halialkers: A serval (Merehaza)
Agent Sigma realized that something was wrong when he was on his back, head pounding, vision blurry after a set of blows had come too fast for anything but the physical sensation to register.cut for gore )
High General Fekanzundu's Headquarters:

The High General was astonished when his guards casually stepped aside to admit a tall Roes'in, overmuscled and garbed all in black. He had a cape with an upturned collar that extended well past his bald head, his head itself massive and suited on an equally massive and bulky body. The face had no kindness in it, the appearance of the beard not helping matters, as it was (as he knew) deliberately styled for spikiness. The limbcrawlerweave garments rippled on his flesh, his military-style boots sounding to his sensitive, elven ears like a deep bass drum. The seemingly sinister face, its beady yellow eyes glaring at him, broke out in a smile that showed impeccably maintained teeth.

A deep voice rumbled: "Hail High General Fekanzundu. I am Yerzhin Hezhatin. You should be aware that I am a grand-scale Psi-Level Metanormal. About a day ago I was struck with a wave of psychic agony that means I have words with you. You see, my hometown of Emelnuvi? All of an entire generation is dead except one private. That private is my cousin......" and with that Hezhatin's eyes blazed with an unnatural light.
halialkers: (Default)
Throneworld Expeditionary Force Army Detachment I Headquarters:

The tall, glowering Cthol who commanded Army Detachment I glowered at her subordinates. Skin flashing a deep purple in rage, the creature communicated with a set of words like bubbling water in a swamp, glowing and color-changing flesh, and the peculiar smells that marked the speech of the Cthol species. Tall, the female had the larger back armor-plating that differentiated females from males, and had its long, pointy fingers clenching each other in rage. Its six eyes, three on either side of its cephalopoidan head turned to its subordinates as it continued to rant:

A victory handed to us on a platter and the soldiers are too cowardly to strike. If there is only one Psy-Class Metanormal left, we have options. We should not have canceled an offensive purely due to facing one metanormal. If my superiors hear about this, we are all going to go before a Tribunal. No. No. No. We will go about this a different fashion.

Her skin became a silverish sheen, the color of thinking, and the chemicals became less those of fear and anger and more the heady combination of arrogance and knowledge:

We have Agent Sigma available to use. I suggest using him to fight fire with fire. Psy-class metanormals are a challenge, true, but this is why people like Agent Sigma are there. Now, when we send the second wave, I also suggest sending the air power first, followed by the mechanized infantry combat detachments. Agent Sigma will be able to call upon a power that like his own works in the air and on land. Go now and see that this is done.


As A'ven Natarzhu looked over his sole surviving soldier, he was again shocked. Looking around the battlefield, her question ringing in his ears, he remained speechless. But Hezhatin then looked up at the sky with a look that he did not recognize at first, but one with which he became all too familiar. As Hezhatin slowly rose from her crouch, her body seemed to literally ripple in an unnatural motion, transforming from frightened girl to......something else. Three minutes before his helmet's communicator warned him that the enemy had planes inbound, Hezhatin then launched herself into the air with a sudden movement that carried with it a sonic boom a few minutes later, blowing the general off his feet. Fortunately his armor protected him from being more than winded and extremely sore as he looked on, awed, at a figure rising into the air at a blinding speed followed by waves of light that began to annihilate what was obviously enemy air power. A few minutes later his communication-link crackled:

"Enemy attack inbound. Get under cover and stay low. That's an order!". He had to bite back a bitter laugh that would have raised more questions than answers.....


The first sign that the second wave had of the Omega's return was the sudden and all-too-complete disappearance of their reconnaissance aerial battlecraft, taken down in a set of initial strikes so fast that they had no confirmation that they were in fact gone until minutes passed without a single update from them. The second was when the fighter pilots and aerial gunship crews reported a blur that moved faster than eyes could see and then their transmissions halted, followed in the case of those few furthest apart from the others with the transmission of a set of explosions. The next sign was when this blur zoomed over the infantry at a hypersonic speed, smashing through several infantry assault vehicles with ease and throwing others into the air, then blasts of power faster than eyes could see disintegrating them. The resulting devastation led to the armor halting, and then to a furious set of futile direct-fire bombardments by armor and indiscriminate shelling, each of which rocked the ground and led to a fusillade of crackling energy that seared the ground, adding to the crackling noise a strong ozone smell, but which were followed in turn by the rapid destruction of the artillery batteries and armor in a set of sudden flashes of energy that reduced the battlefield to a further mixture of ozone, smoke, and the unnatural glow of ExProj energy.

As the Omega sent the regular infantry in Infantry Fighting Vehicles into a retreat, one stood up before it. This was Agent Sigma, a metanormal of great and terrible power. Born with tremendous strength sufficient to crush mountain ranges in exercise, faster than a hypersonic aerial commercial vehicle, able to withstand heavy gravity and and the highest heat of stars, he was a figure who instilled fear in all who saw him. He was stocky, with a double-arched brow ridge, and favored his red hair in a forked beard, his huge but flat nose considered on his own world to have all the loveliness of a cheap dinner plate. When he arrived he immediately began to move on the ground at hypersonic speed, not wanting to risk flight yet. He did see the Omega, but it was as a single blur that left an impression behind it of wind and power.

When it turned to him, however, he leaned backward on a level plane and the Omega's momentum propelled itself over him, and he smiled as the wind of power rushed over him. All brawn and no brain, this one. It should be a matter-then he felt the thunderous impact of an arm slamming into him at a speed he did not detect, and found himself hurled into the air, where he hovered. It had come upon him in a matter of seconds. he had had no resistance to it. After all his life being considered unstoppable, he had just been chumped in the first phase of this fight. Angry, he then realized that for the first time in his life he had felt pain and the kind of fear he instilled in others. Amazed at the novelty, he then sought to swoop down to the Omega and found himself facing a metanormal ready and waiting for him, which stilled him with a wave of thought he had no resistance to.

When he saw the Omega in full, he stared in awe. It was a Xhemkhik, a hybrid of Xeltrigan and Roes'in. He, a son of Tamir III*, of the Gulganir*, had heard of these beings but never had seen them. What's more, it seemed an oddly young one of this kind, seemingly at that adolescent stage of life. Its skin was an unnatural green with black stripes, creating an effect not dissimilar to that of a kind of jungle cat that lived in Mu'arnir* territory on his homeworld. The creature, however, had stilled his reflexes, but it had not managed to altogether halt them. With a supreme effort as through a fog he released his breath to create a howling gale that dislodged the control of his body by degrees enough for him to rocket into the air. As his broad mouth flashed open to reveal yellow teeth, he saw a blur right next to him and turned in shock.

The Omega program, though he did not know it, was now right next to him in a fashion that was all too familiar from the battles of the new Supreme Commander. Its skin-flap extending out from its head due to an unnatural wind, the Omega program had the Xhemkhik's legs together, all six eyes blazing with an unnatural light. Its hands extended from both sides, arm held up, wrists pointing horizontally, its hands glowing with an unnatural and deadly power. Gazing at the being hovering at him, however, Agent Sigma spoke in the tongue of his people of the land of the high mountains*: Come now, alien! Let us have a trial of strength!

The response for the first few minutes was silence, and then the third wave of air power began to become apparent to the Omega, and Agent Sigma smiled again.....


Author's Notes: 

1) Tamir III would be Earth.

2) The Gulganir are the species we call Homo neanderthalensis.

3) Mu'arnir are Homo erectus.

4) Known in our Earth as the Alps.

halialkers: Self-portrait, right side of my face. Best drawing of me yet! (Vishori)

Private Vizornii Hezhatin sat up, ramrod-straight, in the Infantry Transport Vehicle that was bringing her together with her fellow soldiers to the great and wonderful Pass of Gold, where traveled some of the most vital and important trade routes on the Throneworld. As the vehicle rumbled onward in the wee small hours of the morning, Hezhatiin brooded over the nature of the war that had been raging for more than twenty-two years no with no end in sight. Once more the very Throneworld of the vast and ancient Empire was under siege, the Monarchists having finally deciphered how to crack orbital defenses. If the Pass fell, with it would fall much of the Empire's very Capital itself. For the next target, to provide a geographic buffer zone for this Pass would be Hataria, Vizornii's native Kingdom. One of her friends rested his head on her shoulder, which she did not mind. His drooling while asleep, however, she did, and so with a slight push from her will his head tilted over onto another soldier, beginning to drool on him.

Vizornii Hezhatin continued to brood quietly. She knew that she was accursed with a power to wage a vicious and terrible kind of onslaught that might, if all she'd learned from the past was accurate make her more powerful than even the greatest metanormals of the time, like her cousin Yrvin or Colonel-General Xaderavcal. She had asked for exemptions from combat due to this, fearing that her power might make her a menace, but her very fear of demonstrating it meant that this had been denied. She felt the familiar tightness of fear, and smelt it among her fellow soldiers, including the few like her, such as her company commander, who were awake and not slumbering as the transport arrived.

The transport rumbled on as Hezhatiin, after so many years of repressing the power that she knew could speak out from within her with the might that could shatter mountains began to hear the faint rumbling of artillery. As her company commander stood up and began to shout and rouse the other sleeping soldiers, kicking some in the leg and slapping others who were far more tired than she, she began to sense the haunting clarity that arose in such situations. Omega, the ability to see a world only in two dimensions: Friend or Foe. The power to rend mountains, stars, and galaxies. And she who had it committed as a simple private soldier who'd begged not to be so sent.

Well, at the very least she'd be able to save all her friends from a catastrophe. So she told herself as a kind of mantra as the transport finally ground to a halt and the doors began to creak open, letting in the first light of Shuhar......


halialkers: (Default)

September 2017

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