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Full Version: The Price of Loyalty
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A sudden rush, a crashing sound, and then a billowing jet of air. It was always the same sensation. Always the same. For all the things he had forgotten, this was an experience that couldn't be wiped away. It went beyond memory and bled into instinct.

"Name."

"Kazuko."

"Directive."

"The destruction of Kusari's enemies."

"Mission."

There was a brief lapse in time before images and schematics flushed out before his mind. Names and designations, combat techniques and applicable skills were injected right into his head and set into their perfect resting places. "The discovery and assassination of Jien Kogan, renegade Emperor and traitor to Kusari." The words carried from his lips with great weight, knowing that this man was a grand target worthy of a great hunt.

The significance of this man, though, was skewed. For he knew not of his accomplishments. Or even of his rule when he was emperor. The only word synonymous with the man was enemy. After all, why would having sympathy for your targets be of importance?

There was a beep and the images became mere thoughts, eyes opening to a blinding white light that was quickly falling dim. Without hesitating he rose from his seat; a cage of straps and injectors dangling from numerous arms that sprouted from the base. The features of the room were nonexistent: A simple concrete box with the intricate machine sitting in the middle.

"Documents and equipment have been provided for your transit to Bretonia." The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. The sound simply filled each room he passed through upon his exit from the chamber and the source was impossible to pinpoint.

First he collected his gear, stripping down from the medical gown and donning the bodyglove. It was another thing he was able to remember. The suit itself was sleek and advanced: Numerous systems protected it from heat and cold, and allowed for brief EVA with its storage systems. The matching mask and helmet was tucked into a sportsbag, packed already with various tools, weapons, and survival gear. Each he was familiar with, knowing full well the names and purposes of each thing. The last to slip on his form was a pair of civilian pants, boots, a Kishiro product t-shirt, and a riding jacket. Simple yet effective.

"Do not fail us," The everywhere-voice commanded, failing to echo after him once he left the equipment room and stepped into the small portal beyond.
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The transit was uneventful for the most part. Gallia's amicable nature towards Kusari and its trade was a blessing when it came to getting towards Bretonia. Although the scans and frequent checks of passengers and cargo became more worrying the longer he was subjected to them. One of the Navy officials had run the entire trade vessel's ID's at least three times. And more than once he had to prepare a diversion to keep his bag from prying eyes.

But this being a Kishiro ship and all paperwork in order, he went unmolested in his travels. Gallia was the only loose end, the fascist Kingdom unpredictable as it was tenacious. But they were not the targets. He had a mission to focus on and deviating his thoughts would cloud his judgement and performance.

He stood on the observation deck, watching the stellar bodies as they slowly crawled past the large window that dominated the wall. It was calming to stare into infinity, to ponder and plan his mission without the interruption of the crew or passengers.

The task at hand was simple: Make his way to Newcastle once the vessel had docked using the next charter. A smuggler, another loose end, hired to get the assassin into the system and activate a high powered scanning buoy that he had been gifted with. The discharge of the device would destroy the vessel attached to it and provide near-limitless data on ship movement within the system. It was temporary, providing a feed for mere moments, but the oddities would be deemed to be Ronin ships: Vessels further away from the trade lanes and not within known pirate colonies.

It was the next few parts he had to devise. Getting aboard these vessels was the trick and he couldn't decide on playing dead for the part or a lost pilot cluelessly blundering into a rebel fleet.

"Excuse me?" His thoughts were pushed immediately to the rear, his current ruse pushed to the front of his conscious. When he located the source, he found a child, no older than eight, blinking up at him with wide eyes. She was Kusaran, but something in her angular features showed she had some strain of either Libertonian or Rheinlander in her.

"Yes?" He replied quickly, turning to face the girl.

"You come up here a lot. And..." She began fidgeting with the edge of her jumpsuit, "My daddy says the stars are pretty...but looking at them for too long can make you a little...funny..."

This made his brow arch, "You are concerned for my health?" The innocence of children in the face of tasks that couldn't be comprehended by their tiny minds was simply baffling.

"Well, you are up here every day. And you just stare." She was looking nervous, eyes going back to the door. probably to keep her own escape routes in mind. Clever girl.

"Yes, I know you've been watching me. You need to wear quieter shoes," He turned back to the window, leaving the girl to peer down at her rather scuffed and simple boots.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"You didn't bother me," He answered quickly, "And I find the black and white spots to be calming. Besides, I'm already pretty funny." When he looked back at her, he faked a smile yet made it look so genuine.

"Okay!" She seemed to buy it, going so far as to giggle and beam at him with a near-flawless smile.

"Now run along. I bet your father might be worried with you sneaking off." The girl nodded and ran off, giving a quick goodbye as she disappeared. It was when he turned around and stared back into the abyss that he felt something slam into his lower back, sending a spray of red onto the window. How could he have been so stupid?

"Your wicked ways are known, Mister Song. If that's your name," A very proper toned voice came from the shadows. Kazuko spun and immediately rolled towards a set of furniture nearby. If the bullet had punched through his armor so easily, these chairs may not be the best, but it gave him time to draw his own concealed weapon.

"Only a serpent would strike from behind," He bit back, peering over the edge of the chair to see his assailant. The lights were dim, and the shadows cast from the lights beyond the window onto the objects in the room weren't the best for vision.

"Only the dogs of the usurpers would send a man like you to deal with us." A soft pop and a zing made him duck, the bullet impacting into the wall behind him. Still no muzzle blast, but he had a better idea of direction. Executing a quick roll, he fired four tachyon blasts into the area he had calculated they came from. Something shifted in the dark, shimmering and flickering as it moved into cover of its own. A stealth suit? How could that be?

He fired after it regardless, and just as he lined the shimmers up in his sights, the whole world heaved, throwing him to the ground and bathing the room red in emergency lighting.