Itd been awhile since she traveled this far into Liberty space. She hadn't been here since they were looking at Corruptor. Sweet memories came flooding in. Always in Liberty space did Onyxs hold become full to the brim with bodies. Like taking candy from a baby, she thought.
Ouray was close, the Phantoms old headquarters before the Revenant was completed. Desecrator, lets turn these birds toward Ouray. Theyll be surprised and maybe not too happy to see us again, Onyx radioed to Des. At least she hadnt shot any bartenders there, she laughed to herself. They still cleared out when she showed up at Arranmore.
---
She always loved the reaction she got when requesting a docking bay;
This is Ouray, hostile on radar. Permission to dock denied, squeaked a crackly voice, tickling her ear.
My dear Xeno, you didnt let me introduce myself. How rude of you to assume. This is Onyx, slayer of the Phantom Empire, aboard Soulwound. Ill ask you nicely, one more time, honey. Requesting permission to dock. She said the lasts words through gritted teeth. The sweetness in her voice dripped with poison.
Silence. The control board changed from red to green and she slipped inside the old, familiar rock. Your memories are too short, my friends. We might have to remedy that.
---
Onyx unhooked her skull-like mask, opened the canopy, and stepped down into Ourays hangar bay. She waited for Des to disembark and they headed to the bar.
Not many had the nerve to address them or meet their eyes. Most hurried past, as far away as possible, heads bent and murmured greetings. It was times like this it took everything in Onyxs power not to make a sudden move and jump at them. Oh, that would be funny but counterproductive. She could almost hear Glock saying that. Im getting too soft if Im starting to listen to an invisible Glock on my shoulder, she mused. Keep it clean, keep it quick is all he ever says. Bah!
The next Xeno to pass had her hand wrapped around his throat and his back against the wall. She towered over him with her heeled boots. She brought her face to his, almost touching his nose with hers. Hey baby, mind clearing us a table in the bar? Get me a drink while youre at it. Run along now, sweetie, she whispered as she slowly tightened her hand around his reddening throat.
She slowly sauntered down the corridor, watching the Xeno half stumble, half run in the direction of the bar. She looked at Desecrator. He just shook his head and smiled. Onyx shrugged, flipped her raven hair over her shoulder and smoothed her deep purple corset over her hips. She stood to her full height and entered the bar.
---
All was hushed. Xenos were sitting, heads and shoulders hunched over their drinks in a protective manner. In the corner was an empty table. Two drinks had been placed there. She turned to Des and said, Good thing Tommy remembered my drink of choice.
She threaded her way through the tables toward her own. A large, burly man huffed as she went past. Des let out a short laugh and clucked his tongue. Onyx stopped, placed her hand on the back of the mans head and slammed it into the table. Excuse me, did you say something? she asked sweetly. The mans face was dripping with blood from his broken nose. He shook his head and she moved on.
She settled in, put her legs up on the table and leaned back, stretching her arms behind her head. Not one, not one, person had the balls to look in her direction. Satisfied, she took a sip of her Flamin Corsair. Her skin pricked as she drank. It wasnt the liquor that was giving her that warm feeling. Onyx looked up, searching the room for the source of the heat.
There. In the opposite corner sat a hooded figure. There was an aura about this one. The depths of the hood let in no light. Onyx was intrigued. She noticed that others were repelled by the hooded figure just as much as they were by her.
My, my, my, what do we have here? Onyx smiled and dipped her head in acknowledgement.
With her interest peaked, Onyx sat back to enjoy her drink. She stared at the figure across the room over the rim of her highball. Not seeing its eyes, she knew it was staring back. She settled in for a little test of wills. Not often did anyone willingly look her in the eye.
Yes. This one is good, she said to no one in particular. Des looked up at her and raised his eyebrows.
The systems of liberty had received a gift a few months back. A gift with no return receipt, or return address. A young Xenos pilot began making her presence known. She set her goals according to her own will and desire, but followed the Xenos cause as a method to execute those personal goals. Her passion for the Xenos way brought others to respect her from day one of her flight. She did not ask for such respect, or attempt to gain it. The thoughts of the Xenos on her meant little, as long as they allowed her docking, refit, and the ability to fly with them to continue her crusade against the people of Sirius.
No manner of human was able to scare her. She did not associate with her fellow Xenos unless aiding in the dispersal of fear. Only one other Xenos had even shown warrant for her to initiate a conversation. Unfortunately, she never did catch the Prospector in order to speak in person. Slaughtering the corruption outside of stations filled up her time, and arranging a proper meeting proved difficult on her end. She did make a habit out of docking at Ouray in hopes to meet the praised Xenos warlord by pure chance.
Someone else decided to stop in for a drink instead it seemed. Someone that she had been hopping to meet, but dared not seek.
The Young Xenos, only known by her ship name The Ravager, was inside the Ouray bar sitting quietly just so as to be seen, and make the others discomfort level rise. She sat in the shadows, peering through darkened slits in her mask at those in the room. Some tried to make eye contact, others glanced then stared at their drinks. Some even scoffed at her, obviously displeased with her existence. No matter to her, for such pilots would never survive to outlive her. She was growing tired of the lot of them, when the red light above the bar began to flash. Someone was here, someone the Xenos did not particularly enjoy. She stood to move towards the door, when the light stopped. Everyone froze and listened, staring at the light. She looked at faces instead, seeing commitment, seeing bravery, and seeing fear.
The light did not come back on, but a pilot stumbled in gasping for air.
"Pha...Pha...Pha..." the pilot coughed, and grasped at a bar stool. He did not need to finish saying it however, people knew what he meant to say. Nothing could cause such fear inside of a Xenos base, other than one particular existence.
The Phantoms had made a stop at The Ravagers temporary home.
She sat back down, no reason now to head for her ship. She knew that whatever they were here for, they would have it. The fact that the station was not imploding on itself by now also was enough for her to know that they were here for reasons other than destroying the station. The tender scrambled to clear a spot, the current holders offered no objections to moving. The anticipation started to build from within The Ravager. Soon, very soon, she would finally get to see the legends for real.
The anticipation proved well founded. When the Two pilots entered The Ravager felt a sensation that she had not felt in a long time. A small slice of fear chilled her spine for a moment, then the elder Xenos's nose cracked, along with a smile on The Ravagers face. She followed the Phantoms movements with her eyes alone. The bar was silent, but still she could not hear. The pounding rush of thoughts in her head shrouded the words the Phantoms spoke to one another.
Then the one turned to look straight into The Ravagers eyes. Even the mask seemed unable to hide the locking stare of the Phantom. The Ravager froze for a moment, pondering what to do. The first thought to come to mind was failure, so she skipped the thinking and stood up, and turned her head slightly so she was directly facing the Phantoms. Before she allowed herself the time to think twice, she began walking slowly over to their table, humming ever so slightly.
Upon reaching the table, she bowed her head gently, then awaited their reaction. She dared not address a phantom verbally, without being addressed first. She had been hoping for this opportunity far to much, to spoil it by failing a proper introduction.
*Wilson shows off his ham sandwich* - Armory.003
*mark placed on Unit-sk855's forehead* - Head hitting the desk as of reading the above
Onyx leaned her chair back against the wall. She looked up into the hooded and masked face of the stranger as it walked the length of the bar room to her and Des. The grace with which the stranger walked toward her was undeniable. This was a woman, no doubt. But Onyx preferred not to jump to any conclusions. The stranger nodded.
Crossing one leg over the other, Onyx let the chair fall back onto all four legs with a loud snap. She leaned on her elbows and propped her chin in the palm of her hand. She looked very much like a curious teenager. She spoke with a vile sweetness, "I admire your audacity. You interrupt my brother and I. I don't take too kindly to interruptions." Onyx jumped to her feet, planted her fists on the table and leaned to look directly into the abyss of the face. Onyx moved as if to attack yet the stranger stood her ground and barely flinched. Oh, admirable! Onyx thought.
The air was thick with tension. Those who occupied the bar seemed to hold their breath as they waited for the hooded figure to fall lifelessly to the ground.
"Tell me your name, darlin'." Onyx's demeanor had changed as did the tone in her voice. The ball was in the others court. It was up to her to decide her fate.
"The Ravager," she hissed.
Onyx turned to Desecrator, "I'm sending a transmission to Darkstar. Keep this one in your sights. If she tries to get away, kill her. Would be such a waste but a fair penalty for her stupidity." She said the last sentence to The Ravager.
"Have a seat, make yourself comfortable. Whatcha want to drink? They'll fix you up right." There was a slight note of sarcasm in her voice.
Onyx pivoted and walked toward the hangar bay.
----
Transmission to: Phantom HQ
Comm ID: Onyx
My Lord Darkstar. I have a surprise for you. One that I think you'll be rather pleased with. I'm at Ouray. ---message terminated----
Transmission to: Onyx
Comm ID: Darkstar
Expect the Oblivion. ETA: 3 hours.
----message terminated----
----
Onyx stepped lightly into the bar again. All eyes looked up and then away again quickly. She spread her arms and did a quasi-curtsy.
"You will soon be in the presence of greatness," Onyx announced.
Audible gasps of fear and surprise rippled through the room.
She slowly walked back to the corner table. The burly man, dried blood pasted across his face, bowed low to her as she passed. Her flechette pistol was already in her hand. She sat down lightly as his heavy, lifeless body hit the floor.
Part of the mythology of the Oblivion was that nobody saw it very often. One, the cloaking technology and ECM systems prevented detection. And two, it wasn't a terribly active ship. So, when the massive re-fitted Outcast Dreadnought slithered into view, the surprise of the xenos was understandable.
The man seated on the bridge, or rather standing on it, gave a snort from behind his mask. "Xenos... Of all the people, why the xenos? I would have much preferred a Rouge or even a Lane Hacker..."
The man shook his head, then turned to the air-lock. "Crystal, you have the bridge. I trust you'll take care of yourself?"
The tinkling computer voice responded, a little sarcastically. "Of cooooouuurse... Why wouldn't I?"
****
It had been about three hours since the message was sent. And, three hours on the dot, Dark Star arrived. The lightly armored figure was flanked by two much bigger soldiers, armed with the Flechette cannons that was their trademark, and the imposing yellow eyes in a soulless metallic face, part of the powered armor the Phantom soldiers wore. He ignored the entire bar, orange glowing eyes locking directly onto the trio at the edge of the bar. Under the mask, he smiled.
Without any hesitation, he strode up to the three, staring with unblinking mechanical eyes at the unknown female with his two Slayers.
"Onyx must think highly of you... Ravager, was it? Yes..." He seemed to scan her, looking over her form, possibly her soul. "Very highly indeed...
"SO!" He said suddenly, hands simply appearing on the table, the man directly in her face, although nobody saw him move. "You know what happens when my Slayers send favorable reports. You know who we are. We know who you are, and we both know the question I'm going to ask. So, really, all I need is one thing...
"Yes... Or no..."
This is the real true story of rock and roll; it was not about anything more then, how to live your life, as a gangster, in sartorial splendor, and turning the world into a place where normality would never return again...- Malcolm McLaren
The three hours of silently staring back and forth at the two Phantoms felt like three weeks. Fear, anticipation, and recurrent thoughts of unforeseen outcomes that could manifest at any moment swarmed her mind. Yet for the three hours, she could not help but continue to grin.
The silence was broken by whispers at first, something about an arrival. It was shortly followed by heavy footfalls of something entering the room. Something big. The Ravager turned to see the glowing eye ports of the phantom powered armor. She took one deep breath, and relaxed her entire body. Whatever happened now, would be glorious no matter the outcome. If he were to pick her up and snap her neck without words, she would still be happy.
"Onyx must think highly of you... Ravager, was it? Yes..." The Phantoms voice thrilled her senses. "Very highly indeed... SO!" The sudden unseen motion caused The Ravager to lean back slightly. "You know what happens when my Slayers send favorable reports. You know who we are. We know who you are, and we both know the question I'm going to ask. So, really, all I need is one thing........Yes... Or no..."
If the mask was not hiding her face, the large grin that formed would have made others think she was crazy. She leaned forward back to how she was sitting, and replied.
"Yes..." She then stood slowly, and looked up at the masked yellow eyes again. She bowed her head for a moment to show her respect. This was certainly a glorious encounter. This was the moment that she had been born to live. She waited patiently to follow her new comrades to wherever they may lead, and thought eagerly about the destruction, and fear, they were going to spread.
*Wilson shows off his ham sandwich* - Armory.003
*mark placed on Unit-sk855's forehead* - Head hitting the desk as of reading the above