TheSoviet

Death paused for a moment, taken aback. Could the reptile possibly have enough to pay him and his men off?

"...I can't disclose that until my job is finished." He slowly responded. "I do not lead an elite mercenary team of Backstabbers, Acid Zero."

Apparently the Assassin had at least been briefed on the reptile, the mere human having no recollection of his past employment with him.

"Surrender the card to me. This doesn't have to come down to killing."

"I know fully well where the crate is." Death responded calmly and without insult. "I also know that you've left an Arachnos Operative in there. I also know one thing that he doesn't - You can get in to the crate. Surrender your access card or wait out the time lock and open it for us..."

"...Or I will bring about your Death."

((fzt.))

"Sniping's a good job mate." Famine rattled off in a lame accent, imitating something he'd seen on the internet once. "But like I said, that's Death's thing. Death as in my buddy. Four Horsemen and all. Not the scythe guy. Although I wouldn't put it past him, really..."

---

Death didn't respond to Acid's calling. The man moved back behind a corner before speaking again, to make sure their eyes weren't somehow adjusting to his outline.

"I say again. I am not here for you. You know what I want. Relinquish it or I will slaughter you as lambs."

---

The Malta operatives, having decimated Valeria's Drone, quickly stepped over it, removing any memory devices and disconnecting what was left of its weapon's feed. After doing this, the two minions swept to the end of the hall while the Operations Officer stood by the access hatch. There was a flash of a teleport and a Gunslinger joined him, bringing the number of Operatives outside the hatch to four.

((Whoops, the last Ops guy was meant to be an officer.))

"Oh damnit." 7-2-2 grimaced.

Nothing could help him now.

Nothing but the Agent 15 filtering into the Spa.

"Wait, what?" He asked himself, befuddled. As the attendees of the Spa began to scream, black out, and hallucinate wildly, 7-2-2 made his way out of the chaos as quickly as he could.

---

7-2-2 wrapped around corners and bends, ducking into one of the maintenance tunnels and quickly making his way back to his post.

It was in these tunnels that he ran into his savior.

Before him was a man in a dark, poisonous green Exoskeleton armor, a suit so bulky it took up most of the access tunnel. Heavily tinted and reinforced goggles stared him down, and he had the uncanny sense that many more eyes watched him. This was Pestilence, the second Horseman of the Apocalypse who had made his presence known on the ship.

"Do not compromise your cover again." Came a voice from just over the operative's shoulder.

"We are not paid to protect your worthless hide."

And just like that, Pestilence vanished from before him, a teleport carrying him somewhere else on the ship.

7-2-2 continued back to the Resonator.

---

"File out. Present minimal profile. In three. Two. One." The Operations Officer whispered to the team near the resonator.

"Go."

The Engineer wheeled around the corner, taking the full force of the poisonous trap. Fortunately for him, it looked like this was a sleep variant of the trap ((/poison's trap is bad that way)) and that he'd be up as soon as something could shake him awake.

Something like the Stun Grenade that came around the corner next, exploding with a concussive blast that reverberated off of the ship's walls, sending metal bits and debris from the resonator's sealing in skittering along the floor. Without missing a beat, the Sapper rounded the corner with the Operations Officer and the rapidly recovering engineer, all three firing their primary weapons in concert at both the robot and Valeria.

"Don't destroy the card! Go for head shots!"

---

"Sniping's Death's bag. I don't have the muscle discipline." Famine shrugged. "One too many jittery booms in my time, I guess."

"Oh. I don't guess I've introduced myself."

"I'm Famine, second in command of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse mercenary...organization, I guess you could call us. We will fight anywhere and do anything, if your money is green enough."

Famine took the time to hand out a business card to each person present, a horse's head etched into the back of each one.

"Of course, right now I'm just chillin' here without the rest." Famine smoothly lied. "But as soon as we're off this tub we're up as free agents again, if you have any problems what needin' takin' care of."

"Yeah, well, you know." Famine grinned one of those insane grins. "I prefer what works for me."

---

"Someone get in there with access so that Spider doesn't set us up for another wait..."

---

7-2-2 looked to the woman, raising an eyebrow. "Uhh, I'm her replacement. But that's not who I was sent here for. You might have to check with Ms. Valeria..."

---

In the hallway where Valeria was preparing her drone to disassemble the resonator, three men waited in the access area in ambush.

One was the Operations Engineer who had installed the resonator.

Another was a Sapper, his bio-feedback rifle ready to go.

The last was an Operations Officer, stun grenade in hand. They'd just received notification that they needed alternative access into the cargo container - and chances were good that Valeria had one.

And so as soon as she was distracted by the spa worker's inquiry, they would strike. Hard.

---

The Malta outside of Masquerade's door may have been nervous, but that didn't make them idiots. As an Operations Engineer cut a small hole into the door with a blowtorch, one of the Sappers readied his bio-feedback device for a hosing of the room.

---

"You have something we want." Came a voice from directly in front of Acid and Hotaka.

"And unlike the Arachnos fool, we will be taking it from you. Now."

---

Noiseless. Odorless. Colorless. Irritation free. So it went with Agent 15. An Iraqi take on the American agent BZ, the Schedule 2 chemical is an effective and easily synthesized incapacitating agent that causes disorientation, powerful and very real hallucinations, loss of consciousness, and a significant slurring of speech. Despite Acid's alien biology, it was entirely possible that since the chemical agent could affect everything from synaptic receptors to the central nervous system, he would be affected. Thanks the lack of obvious delivery, it was also likely that Hotaka and Acid wouldn't notice the airborne agent until they had already recieved heavy dosage, although it may not have been past their reason to assume that something would be happening after their vague threat.

---

If nothing was done to prevent exposure, Acid and Hotaka would suddenly behold people and places that they instantly recognized. The hallucinations were in no way vague; for all they knew, their friends and enemies were right there in front of them.

The slight blur of slowly-moving Active Camouflage would blend right in with their trip...

The 'crewmen' looked at each other.

"We're on it, Ma'm."

The two men she had assigned to their tasks disappeared around their respective corners. Of course, they were supposed to wheel right back around as soon as she left.

#A000042325, however, was on his way for something more important. As he walked, he talked into his collar.

"This is Nevada Hellsing 7-2-2. I'm maintaining my cover identity and...uh..."

"And moving to intercept a possible informer. Send 7-2-5 to replace my position; I'll be back...Uh...ETR is one hour, clocking from now."

"Uh...We copy, 7-2-2."

The other men disappeared around their corners and immediately entered various access hatches, moving to the internal part of the maintenance area and guarding from there, where there'd be no more interruptions.

---

7-2-2 walked into the Spa and cracked his knuckles. "I uh, heard they needed me down here."

((Do I still have the go ahead for the crewmen to respond?))

"We're with systems maintenance, there's been a power flux that we're fixing. Off grid, independent system." The 'crewman' reported to Valeria without so much as missing a beat. "Here you are."

He then produced a perfectly forged ID, his assumed name stolen from another employee working at the opposite end of the ship.

---

Famine nodded at Shioh before turning to Harry. "Lucky [censored]." The mercenary grinned to him, nodding in a congratulatory sort of way. Famine calmly sat down, pulling his orange hoodie back over his ballistics armor and unplugging his Cryo pistol from its belt-fed source. That alone increased the temperature in the bar a few degrees.

"So the bow thing; is this some kind of ancient family secret, etcetera, or do you just like the pew pew more than the boom boom?" He asked, turning back to Silk and raising an eyebrow in earnest.

---

Brushstalker fired off a few ill-aimed mace blasts after them before collapsing to his knees in front of the monolithic container.

"I am the greatest warrior that EVER LIVED! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

The Khelari and the Oriental would certainly hear the laughter as they left, but thankfully it was static.

He was done with them.

---

"Spider's in the cargo bay. He's secured the package; we're waiting for a timed lock."

"Proceed as planned."

((Almost forgot.))

"Agh wha-" Curtis reeled as the slice lashed into his armor plating, cutting a rather sizeable gash into his chest. Fighting through the pain, Curtis administered a regenerative shot - a quickfix at best.

"We got a wild one, Gobi! Get t'the security systems!"

And Curtis and Gobi Lead were gone in the flash of a teleport.

Gobi Two was not so lucky. "Command, I've got a teleporter malf-" He never managed to finish, dying instantly as Masquerade broke his neck. Unfortunately for Masquerade, the Malta now knew where he was.

Outside of the room he heard boots, and the door being literally battered down.

A soft blue glow eminated from outside...

"HAH!" Brushstalker yelled suddenly, firing a Mace Beam into the Jounin-shadow. Backflipping off the cargo container, he landed a few steps away from Acid. "AAGH!" He continued, "THIS PACKAGE IS MINE!"

Charging towards the reptilian, he brought the mace above his head for a crushing-almost shattering-blow. But this time, just before impact, he fired a localized, wide-spread burst of energy from the Mace's focus lens, and for a split second, every shadow in the room was illuminated with a burning red glow.

Brushstalker whipped around to face the martial artist again.

"ARACHNOBOTS! ENGAGE EMERGENCY RECALLS!"

Both of the Disruptors were gone in an Arachnos teleport. Brushstalker grinned widely. "Now I see yer game. 'Ere I was, tryin' t' even th' whole thing out, thinkin' ye were some kinda assassin-cult leader. But yer jus' a crazy old man wot tryin' t' scare me wid shadows. An' now yer a dead one! THE PACKAGE IS MINE!"

His monologue over, Brushstalker slowly faded from view right there in the middle of the crates.

There was the sound of approaching footsteps and then one heavy push-off, as though the Bane had jumped.

And just like that, Brushstalker was in front of him and swinging with another Stealth Strike, his power mace tearing through the air so fast that its red focusing gem was a veritable lightningbolt to the casual observer.

"Time t' cut off the head of the beast!"

"Oh, sorry sir. We've been given the wrong room. . ."

Curtis pressed against the wall outside, slowly loading another tranq round. Gobi Two slowly crept to the wall as well, two expended tranq darts in his hand, recovered from the now peacefully sleeping couple.

"Back to sleep, sir." Gobi Lead smiled, and suddenly he stepped back as Curtis wheeled around and fired the narcotic at point-blank range into the man.

---

Famine walked casually up to Silk and Harry, having brushed off the ashes from his burning experience. "Yeah well that was cool I guess. Except for the part where I got lit on fire. By the way, is there any trick to getting these out?"

He pointed behind him. One of Silk's arrows was firmly planted between two armor plates below his right shoulder. "I'm starting to lose feeling in this arm."

"Damnit!" Dune hissed, continuing on and ignoring the couple.

"You six, find him and kill him. He's already seen to much! Whiskey Tumbleweed is inbound." He muttered into a collar mic.

---

At the other end of the wire, the boss of the Gunslinger team nodded. "This is Gobi team, we gotcha boss."

There was a final teleport, and a seventh gunslinger stepped out of the light.

"Alrigh' lads," Whiskey Tumbleweed grinned. "Reckon it's time ter take this'un down a peg. You four, g'off 'n look fer the others that what was in 'ere, they may know sum'n. Rest of you, wid me."

The four Gunslinger Lieutenants nodded and teleported off. Tumbleweed, Gobi Team Leader, and one of his Gunslingers stepped into the hallway, alert and ready.

"E's close. E's real-"

"Hey! What the-" The man of the couple who had seen Dune get attacked. "Y-You've got guns! I've seen y-you on the news before!"

"Don' go bein' no hero, slick." Tumbleweed turned to face him.

"N-no, you're Curtis! You're Gunslinger Curtis! You're a madman!"

"Aw, frag. I really do need t'tone it down." He sighed, rolling his eyes.

He then whipped out his Colt Pythons, slipping in Tranq Rounds in one smooth motion.

"Hey, I'll take y-"

Phpht!

The man and his girl slumped to the ground.

"You take these two t' their room." Curtis told the Lieutenant. "Gobi, start checkin' rooms."

Fate would have it that Erik's room, being the one right next to the one they'd just come from, would be the first one to be intruded upon.

Gobi Lead knocked on the door.

"Room service!" He intoned gently, his ear pressed against the door.

---

One of the ship's security cameras seemed to turn and focus intently on Odette and David.

"Fine." 'Dune' growled at Masquerade. "This was your mistake to make."

Snapping backwards in an almost impossible display of matrix-like skill, the spectral swipe carved harmlessly through the air above him. Not stopping for a second, he brought himself back up and shoved his arms forward, a bolt of pure force erupting from micro-generators in his sleeve. Not even stopping to see what had happened, Dune snapped his fingers and instantly developed an impervious Personal Force Field, taking off down the hallway.

"Intercept and engage! Make it painful!" He yelled over his shoulder, and suddenly six separate teleports crescendoed into a cacophony of energy as the six respective gunslingers each brought along stepped into existence in a semicircle around masque, trapping him in the room. All six whipped out their pistols and began blasting at him with reckless abandon, their teleports ensuring that if ship security showed themselves all they would find is a room full of bullet holes...

---

Brushstalker snarled as the acid caught him square in the chest, slowing everything around him dramatically as his reflexes turned to stone.

This wouldn't stop him, however.

"Agh!" He hissed as his automated injector system filled him full of purple, and then orange liquid.

"Hahahaha! Y'worthless [censored]! I'm not out, I'm NEVER out! I'm the best damn hunter alive, and yer the cornered meat!" The Operative grinned, bringing his Mace once again to bear.

"NOW SUCK ON THIS ONE!" He screamed suddenly, a huge Mace Beam erupting from the weapon with that familiar Arachnos-death-buzz, zipping towards Hotaka's amulet.

The Arachnobots would have none of the Jounin's attempts, first firing wide-area web grenades at point blank range at the ninjas, careful not to entangle themselves. Practically as the grenades were leaving their tubes the Disruptors engaged in brutal melee with the still-attacking Jounin, matching their sword swipes with Impervium reinforced claws. Of course, since each of the disruptors could fight with four claws at once, this left the Jounin two blades down...

"Right y'smarmy [censored]. I can take you an' all your little friends 'ere too...But maybe not alone, yea?"

"Activate and engage!" The Spider suddenly yelled, and two of the crates in the room exploded outward, revealing Boss-spec Arachnobot Disruptors inside. Both machines immediately volleyed their draining Disruptor Blasts at the collection of ninja, attempting to occupy them all while Brushstalker took on Hotaka himself. Swinging his mace around in a flasy display, the Bane quickly zeroed in on the martial artist, his mace running rapid, real-time battlefield calculations, specifying weak points and marking his signature as the Power Mace's locked target. Having done so, Brushstalker fired a twisting Poisonous Ray that seemed to home straight in on the oriental.

The second guard fell with a slump, and dune reeled back in shock.

"Now look, we can be reasonable about this." He said, placatingly lowering his stunstick. Of course, that isn't to say he turned it off or anything...

---

Brushstalker grinned, his stubbled chin the only thing visible under an Arachnos-standard power helmet.

"You swordy type lot just never learn. I fought Gurkhas wid kukris in me day, an' I can fight a sissified, shuriken-tossin,' k'tana wieldin' version, too."

The end of the power mace suddenly glowed vibrantly before blasting force in all directions, Brushstalker firing a Power Mace Blast at point-blank range. If this had even the slightest effect, the Bane would try a bit of crowd control, swinging his mace around viciously in front of him. Not even a second passed between the end of Brushstalker's mace assault and the opening of a twin-shot mace blast, the split projectiles aimed squarely at the two jounin holding his allies captive.

"Little [censored]." Famine grunted as the boy left.

---

"Damn." Brushstalker thought to himself, staring down the LED. "Should have seen this coming." Of course a security container would have such a lock on it - it's not like there were going to be a lot of different users.

It was at this point that a Malta Operative made himself apparent to him, signaling from a hidden spot across the room with a two fingers, showing that there was another operative in hiding as well. Brushstalker pumped his fist and held up three fingers.

Then two.

Then one.

The Bane Spider lightly stepped forward, controlling his breathing. His active camouflage turned him into a phantom, stepping behind Hotaka in almost a graceful stalk.

If there's one thing that this job shared with his last one, it was that when things got messy, that's when the thrill of the hunt came through.

Brushstalker swung his mace in a crushing left-to-right swing, aiming to knock Hotaka out. At the same time, both Malta Operatives threw Stun Grenades directly in front of Acid on a contact fuse.

---

As the woman hurried off, as she rounded a couple of corners she would almost (or perhaps would) run into ANOTHER Tactical Operative. Apparently there were quite a few down here.

"What th- Lady, you can't be running around down here! Who're you working for?"

Another voice came from the darkness. "No, wait, she's the one Three Nine Five was talking about. Lady, just lay back down and get to sleep. No need for you to be moving at this time."

---

Masquerade would rapidly find himself meeting taser as he charged the man, the suited guard yelling to the other two, who immediately produced melee weapons of their own - The other guard produced an identical taser and 'Dune' whipped out a collapsing stun baton, bringing it active with a flick and a buzz. The men immediately set after him, trying to subdue the crazed man before he caused any damage...to them, at least.

"Look you little [censored]." Famine snarled, lazily turning his pale eyes on the boy. "You don't have anything to worry about by me being here, and neither does your precious little family, unless you keep bugging me."

"And uh, by the way, hotshot?"

"If my [censored] goes live, I have an emergency recall to literally teleport me and my underarmor right on out of wherever the hell I am. I don't care if you decide to activate every explosive from here to the West Bank, you won't be doing yourself a bit of good. I was just trying to keep everything under control back there, and if you're wise, you'll make that easier for me by [censored] off...

...Now."

---

The operatives dressed in ship employee's clothing looked nervously from one to another.

One of them spoke up.

"Excuse me sir, we're going to have to ask you to clear out of here, this is delicate work."

---

Brushstalker facepalmed, his glove hitting his Arachnos helmet with a light clank. "D'oh."

The operative made his way up to the huge container.

Brushstalker produced what looked like a small USB jumpdrive with a Horse's head etched into it. Removing the faceplate of the keypad, he connected it directly to a diagnostic plugin slot underneath them and activated it. It began entering random digit codes at a rapid pace, running through hundreds of combinations a second.

Brushstalker then pulled what could only be described as an ATM card with a gigantic metal box covering everything but the magnetic strip. Inserting this into the slider, the 'card' immediately began trying different magnetic codes. Unfortunately, even if both stopped once they'd gotten a green, it could take upwards of ten minutes for them to do so, and by then the men might be back.

Brushstalker reactivated his active camouflage and stepped behind one of the other crates, mace ready.

"I'm crackin' it, lads. Send a coupla spooks down 'ere will yas? They may be comin' back..."

---

The Tactical Operative talking to the woman frowned. "Go back to sleep, lady."

He stepped away from her and she could make out the sound of him talking into a radio headset, but what he was saying was unintelligible.

A few seconds after Acid had teleported him and his rapidly liquefying friend out of the stairwell, there was a shimmer and a slow droning noise as Operative Brushstalker's cloaking field dropped.

"Well bust up me power mace 'n call me a candy cane." The ex-poacher drawled in a central-western Australian accent. "This is way too easy."

The Bane Spider picked up a strangely non-arachnos radio and spoke. "Oy, Spooks. I'm near th' boxy, what's it look like?"

"You'll have to find it yourself, Brushstalker." Came the garbled reply. "Intel was sketchy at best, it was expected we'd learn more on-site."

"Well tha's not a very good plan at all, now is it?"

"We don't tell you how to do your job."

"Wha'ev, I'm movin t' intercept th' package, Brushstalker out."

The Arachnos operative made his way through the door grinning. "If th' whole spider thing don' work out I may consider gracin' those gents wi' my presence."

As he entered the cargo room, he sighed. "Guess this is it." He groaned to himself, prying open the first of many crates.

---

Famine grinned, suddenly forgetting his bloodrage. "Ahaha oh wow." He pocketed the note, most likely to show to his fellows at some point in the future.

---

"Wha?" 'Dune' asked of Acid as he quickly made his way out of the room, alongside a blue blur.

"You, look inside."

One of the suited guards slowly leaned into the opening in the door, an eyebrow raised.

"Hello?"

---

The dirty woman suddenly heard a gasp from nearby.

Turning to the source of the sound would reveal a Malta Group Tactical Operative, weapon drawn, in full Field gear, his midnight blue getup hard to distinguish from its surroundings.

"You're not supposed to be down here! Who are you?"

Acid and Hotaka heard nothing. If someone had been following them down the stairs, they had stopped the very second the reptile and the martial artist had.

---

The microsub pulled up alongside the ship at the far aft, near the very rearmost passenger compartments. The hatch opened at the exact same time a nearby porthole did. Two men peeked their heads out of their respective hatches:

One was Sand Castle Zero Zero One, Reikoff's immediate superior and leader of the Wasteland Collective, the cell that employed both men. His thick black balaclava rustled as he spoke to the other man in a learner's Arabic.

The other man responded in a fluent tongue, his eyes shifting nervously across the massive ship in front of him as he spoke.

As the man climbed out, another set of arms reached up with a large circular device, covered in controls and wiring. The man from the minisub nervously handed it off to Zero Zero One, speaking rapidly as he did so.

Sand Castle nodded his thanks and ducked back in with his prize in hand, and the man jumped back into his sub.

And just like that they were gone, never even registering on the ship's sonar...

---

Sierra Wolverine Four Two Zero nervously shifted his weight, trying carefully to avoid the exposed wiring he had pulled clear of their tube. The maintenance area he was carefully situated in seemed all the smaller now that he was dealing with high voltage. Delicately, almost religiously, the Tactical Engineer pulled the Resoance Device from below him, placing it rather securely in a dock he had fashioned for it in the wall. Gingerly he rerouted power feeds and wiring into the device, until it resembled a rather ill-kept computer tower.

Albeit one that was circular, and rather dangerous.

"This is Four Two Zero." He barely whispered into his headset microphone. "I've planted the Resonance device. You fools ready?"

"We're good out here."

"Alright, I'm activating it and clearing out. It's your problem now."

Sierra Wolverine flipped the switch before carefully making his way back to the access shaft, slipping out like a shadow.

But not before welding the entrance shut.

---

Several men dressed as ship employees casually approach the access hatch, opening a nearby panel and pretending to perform routine maintenance.

Of course, they were really there to make sure no-one had any ideas for their device...

---

EVERYONE on the ship who wasn't a God among mere Mortals would feel a strange feeling.

One of those deep feelings, that left you with a bit of a headache. The feeling was slight enough that most people didn't even mention it.

Except for the psychically inclined.

---

One of the suited men casually looked over the dining hall. "Is it up?" He asked his collar mic nonchalantly.

"Just brought it online."

One of the women in the hall suddenly began screaming in panic and pain, veins bulging from her head. Wailing, she grabbed her temples and began spasming violently before suddenly and unceremoniously fainting on the floor. As various patrons went over to check on her, the suited man spoke into his mic again.

"Working as intended. Give the green light."

"Brushstalker's already on it."

'Dune' and his guards stayed in the elevator, all frowning severely.

One of the suited men reached up and yanked the cord on the elevator's security camera.

'Mister Dune' picked up a radio from his chest pocket as the elevator doors closed.

"This is Dune Fortress One One Two to Sand Castle Zero Zero One. We've been found out."

"One One Two, you are to continue acting as a businessman. I'm sending a Tactical team after the crate; it's importance hasn't been lost on you, has it?"

"Negative, Zero Zero One. I've received a report of activity in one of the rooms near here, what are my orders?"

"Take care of it. The less psychic potential there is on board the less likely we are to be had. Soviet Storm Five Nine Three-"

"Ramier, Sierra Team's resident mad scientist?"

"The same. I've made contact with him and he's sending some men on a microsub to our previously discussed docking point. They will have the Resonance Generator. Has your mercenary started his work yet? I'm not sure I trust that one."

"He will soon. And you don't have anything to worry about; The Horsemen are among the best in the world. And of course, his friend is on board, in case things get out of hand."

"And The Spider is still on-board with the op? Where's his man?"

"Brushstalker? He's on-board and ready for activation."

"So other than our unexpected friend being here, we're still on schedule?"

"Perfectly so."

"Alright. Don't [censored] this up, One One Two. This is important."

"I won't fail."

----

A suited guard steps into the bar outside of the arena, walking deliberately to Famine. The Mercenary makes a quick break in his anger to accept Prodigy's note.

---

'Dune' and his two guards slowly approached the entrance to the room where Masquerade was trying to kill everyone. They didn't peek into the entrance, merely waiting outside and listening carefully.

---

As Hotaka and Acid made their way down the stairs, Acid would notice that their footsteps vibrated ever so slightly louder than normal...

Mister Dune and one of the Goons he had with him looked at each other quickly, frowns on their faces.

"What we have to do here is of no concern to you. Let's leave it at the fact that you'll be in no danger, as long as you don't talk about our presence..."

"Who's this one?" One of the suited guards said, pointing at Hotaka and snarling. "He's a liability. We should have killed them both already!"

"That's not your decision to make." Dune calmly retorted. "And as a bodyguard, you're in no position to speak."

The 'bodyguard' stepped back dejectedly.

"However, his words hold true, Mister Zero. Who is our friend here...and is he going to be a problem? Not really sure how I feel about you dropping names around him, either..."

---

"What the [censored] is this [censored]?" Famine groaned even as his suit burst into flames.

"I GOT WAY TOO MUCH HEAT TO BE ON FIRE, DAMMIT!" He yelled at Gunner, genuine panic in his voice. "STOP THE FIGHT!! STOP THE FIGHT!!" He yelled as he quickly made for the exit.

Having escaped, Famine bolted towards a small fire-dousing station nearby, yanking the release chain and thankfully extinguishing himself before he exploded.

"What the [censored] WERE YOU THINKING?!" He yelled back into the arena furiously. "NOT EVERYONE HAS [censored] GOD-MODE INFINITE AMMO CODES RUNNING, JACKASS!"

Famine hadn't even noticed the arrows stuck in him courtesy of Lotus. It looked like his armor plates had stopped most of them, anyway.

((Paging krazy to line one, you have a cryo beam waiting for you sir...))

'Mister Dune' held up his hands, in a placatory attempt. "Look, you have your job here, and I have mine. We don't have to kill each other this time."

He leaned forward out of the elevator at the sound.

"So what do you say, temporary ceasefire? Or do I have my boys here reintroduce you to the concept of 'continually stunned...'

As Acid and Hotaka entered the elevator, they found three men already inside.

Two were two of the suited goons that had been in the Casino. They had produced the boxlike objects from their back pockets and at this point it was clear that they were highly advanced flip-open submachine guns, built fully synthetic. They were loading up fresh magazines when the elevator had stopped unexpectedly and opened quickly, the ship's designers making sure to keep their machinery working fast enough for the more impatient super-types.

The last man was the center of the hub, a man that Acid Zero would recognize instantly through years of shaky alliances and bitter warfare.

"Oh, what the hell. You just can't go anywhere without you showing up, can you?" 'Mister Dune' asked, a tired tone in his voice.

Famine grinned a bit as the 9mm rounds impacted his ballistics armor with all the familiarity in the world. If anything, this was better than usual. Famine went on to fire the LAW...fruitlessly. His grin quickly faded.

"Oh come on!" He groaned, throwing the one-shot tube aside and whipping out a Crey corporation standard issue Cryo-pistol, his backup-weapon of choice.

"Suck winter, baby!" He yelled to gunner, the blue glow of the pistol oddly vibrant and pulsing. Famine had clearly wired this model with the power source of a Heavy Cryo Rifle, boosting its power exponentially. Just how he'd done so was immediately obvious - a large coupling system hooked it into a belt-held generator. Famine fired the coursing beam with gusto, a blue lance that lit up the entire room.