Chapter 16 - A new Era

[Jack]

(Navanod)
Navanod Atokad had been searching the city for his brother all day. Yet he had not found a single clue of his being there. Navanod was losing patients, as he always did in times of stress.

"Where are you Jacob?" He asked himself, kicking at the ground. Nav began walking away when he heard someone behind him, he spun around to see an elderly man approaching him.

"Who are you?" Navanod demanded.

"My name is not important youngster." The old mans voice was harsh and scratchy. "I have information about a young Jacob Atokad."

"Information?" Nav echoed him.

"Yes, yes, information." The old man nodded. "He has left the Black Moon yesterday."

Hearing this, Navanod gritted his teeth and clenched his fist. "Where did he go?" He managed to spit out.

The old man shook his head. "I was told to tell you that he left. I do not no where he left to. But if I were you, I'd keep looking around the Black Moon." The old man turned to walk away.

"Wait!" Navanod cried after him. "Why should I stay if my brother has left?"

"You are a fool." The old man turned around and approached Navanod again. "If you where being hunted would you tell someone to tell someone that you were leaving if you really were leaving?" The old man cocked an eyebrow, and continued, not waiting for an answer. "Of course you wouldn't! You would tell someone to tell someone that you were leaving because you really weren't leaving, so that they would leave and you would stay." The old man shook his head vigorously. "Youth!" He snorted, and walked off.

Navanod stared after the old man, pondering his words. Maybe he is right? Maybe he is wrong?
"Argh!" Nav grunted. Damnit Jacob! Why wont you just let me find you!?

Frustrated, Navanod turned away and head further into the city. Taking the advice of the old man and staying on the Black Moon.

I will find you Jacob...

[Jack]

(Dagan)
There was silence. Soft snowflakes floated from the heavens, all in their glory, to suddenly land on the ground amidst their brethren. Some took hiding places in trees, keeping their sights on those who traversed the planet below them. Although it wasn't like that anymore. The snow just kept coming, and rarely had to worry about being trampled. On the down side, they didn't see much activity anymore either. Just the rest of their allies landing on the planetside.

A short flash illuminated the area, seen only by the ever watching snow. The flash ended, and a man was left sitting in a patch of snow. The man was wearing torn camouflaged clothes, the kind common to the army. He had a surprised expression on his face, and carried a gun in his hands. Dagan stood up, brushing snow off his behind. He looked around. Where was he? Was this hell? Had he died? Well, if this was hell, a lot of people had to dos tuff they had promised, because it had frozen over. Grateful for the gun remaining in his hands, he explored the area around himself. In a matter of minutes he was content, and found nothing but snow and trees. What the hell had happened? Last thing he remembered was he and two others going into the woods to investigate someone. Then they shot at him.
Maybe this was hell, and all the legends about it were fake. Perhaps hell was just a frozen wasteland, not an inferno like everyone always spoke of it as. Dagan decided he could do nothing but wander.

He traveled around the snow covered landscape for about an hour before he encountered anything. It was an army base, planes with snow covering their wings, large supply buildings with snow cascading off the roofs occasionally to make a dull thud as they encountered more snow on the ground. As Kain slowly walked through the military base, he realized it was empty. No man had been here for a long time. Dagan investigated the base for supplies, but what was there was ruined by the snow.

Dagan continued on, wandering. Hunger was beginning to come on. So was thirst. Dagan suddenly realized could die in a few days without water, he began to panic. But then he calmed noticing that water was all around him. He scooped up a handful of untouched snow, and sucked the moisture from it greedily. He continued to do this as he walked. The water slightly dulled the edge of his hunger. Dagan normally wouldn't get hungry so quickly, but he had been fighting for a few days without much food. How long would his search for life continue? His question was answered with a smell. Smelled like something... Burning. And rotting. The area got light and lighter as he approached the source of the smell. And there was a wall, a vortex of flames, suspended in the air. Curious and afraid, Dagan backed away and sat down on the dirt, watching it. It was dirt now. The snow around the burning… thing was all melted. Deciding now was as good a place to stop as ever, he took a break, laying on his back and studying the vortex of flames.

[Jack]

(Teradoc)
"We haven't the resources to blockade the moon, Commander. The Widowmaker and the Eerie Pride are scanning the traffic between the orbital platforms. The Red Hand soldier who spoke was hidden beneath his heavy black armor, his words whispering harshly through the dark cloth obscuring his face. Only his eyes, shadowy and intense, were visible.

Teradoc turned to regard him, framed by a backdrop of stars through the thick panes of glass. The Commander of the Red Hand hadn't deigned to sit once during their flight, and following her example none of the others showed that weakness. Her womanly features were disguised by the bulky breastplate, her slim shoulders hidden beneath wide and imposing shoulder pieces. Teradoc's voice, when she did speak, came out in a deep, throaty rasp that inspired obedience and respect. Her long reddened-gold hair was tucked as always into the cross-helm she wore, and even her soft face was hidden behind a steel mask, a chiseled metal face with a stong jaw and sharp cheekbones, a thick and angular brow throwing an edge of menace to her look. In short, not one of her own men realized she was a woman, and some, having seen her in combat, suspected she was some sort of monster beneath the armor. And their suspicions weren't wholly wrong.

"As General Darksinger told, a ship-to-ship battle against the Cruxis would play to our disadvantage."

The soldier stiffened awkwardly. "We have no evidence that the Cruxis are in possesion of a warship.." His speech trailed off under Teradoc's withering gaze, and he fell silent.

"The Red Hand, brutal and efficient as we may be, is not powerful enough to directly challenge the Cruxis. Battles are not won by striking an opponent where he is strong, but where he is weak. You," Teradoc singled out the Red Hand member acting as copilot, "Where is the Cruxis strong?"

"Mithos," the man hissed, unconciously sliding his hand over his armor to where a wickedly curved dagger was sheathed. "Darksinger's bane."

"Now," She directed her attention back to the soldier she'd spoken with before, "Where is the Cruxis weak?"

The uneasy man hesitated before answering. "The Cruxis' weakness is their pride, Commander."

In a flash Teradoc crossed the distance between them and struck the man across the throat hard enough to send him flailing into the bulkhead. The man struggled to his feet, unwilling to show weakness before his Commander despite his ragged gasps for breath. "Forgive me, Commander." She'd punished him just as much for insulting her race as for his incorrect answer, though that was another subject the Red Hand knew little about.

"The Cruxis' weakness is their sole reliance on their greatest strength, Mithos. You," she pointed to one of the Red Hand standing behind the pilot, "Tell me why."

The man had already come to his conclusion. "Their dependence on Mithos has become their crutch. Seperate the Cruxis from their leader and they're just a band of fools."

"Excellent. A strike at their strength, Mithos, would be foolish. Likewise, to challenge the Cruxis openly would leave us at a disadvantage because of their numbers. What is our course of action, then? You."

She glared into the nervous eyes of the man who'd already answered wrong today. Making a concious effort not to rub his throat, he met her gaze and didn't back down. "We must divide them." For a moment real fear shone in his eyes, and Teradoc tensed as though she would strike him.

"You are correct, soldier. To do so will take planning, and much information that we don't yet have. When the time is right, we will act."

"We're coming in on the Moon Haven now, Commander." As the pilot spoke the oddly shaped object loomed across the windows, filling it as he brought the Dauntless in a slow turn towards it. The Black Moon was not round, but a jagged island that drifted in orbit along a plain of stony debris, all a product of the Seperation. The Moon orbited directly over the Seperation crater, for it was in fact the shard of the planet that had been lost, a fragment of the broken planet below that had become an island in the sky. "We're recieving suggested vectors for landing zones from the Black Moon flight director. Shall I respond?"

"Do not. Ignore the vectors and bring us in low over the city, we'll be dropping directly from the main hold. Then take up a stationary orbit on the Moon's blind side. You two," she waved her hand at the copilot and the man standing behind the pilot, "Will man the gunnery turrets. If any ship approaches, destroy them. Ignore hails from oncoming vessels. You'll meet up with the rest of us at the rendevous point in three days." She motioned for the soldier she'd struck before to follow her down the corridor to the rear of the ship, where the hangar and the Red Hand insertion team waited.

The Dauntless tore through the thin atmosphere of the Black Moon Haven, it's twin hulls ablating heat and friction in their descent. The shear velocity of their entry buffered the ship with the introduction of a cloudy slipstream that rippled outwards in it's wake. As the ship slowed, panels on the outer-facing sides of the cylindrical dual hulls slid back, and double-pronged gunnery stations peeked machine gun barrels out of the opening. Not built for hovering or truly atmospheric flight at all, the Dauntless' pilot slowed the ship to the minimum he could while keeping it aloft, and triggered the hangar door release, a seam splitting the bottom of the rear compartment of the ship as the doors opened outwards. Five black-armored figures fell from the opening and landed in crouches on the rooftop of one of the city's buildings, where they fanned out and ducked into the shadows.

By the time the Black Moon flight director had mustered the defensive forces, an aging pair of poorly maintained Vander Aerotech GDU starfighters, the Dauntless was breaking free of the atmosphere, outbound.

[Jack]

(Navanod)
Navanod walked silently along the road, roaming his thoughts, searching his mind for clues that would tell him his brothers whereabouts. Navanod shook his head and almost slammed his fist into a building wall, but thought better of it and continued walking along the dark road.
Where was Jacob? He wondered. Maybe that old man did lie...or maybe...a noise broke his thoughts; foots steps thumping the ground violently. Navanod looked around but saw no one near him.
"What the hell..." He mumbled to himself. Instinctively, Navanod pulled his pistol from its holster, held it close, and waited. Navanod leaned against a building wall, pressing himself as far into as he possibly could. The footsteps grew louder and faster. A man! A man jumped from a hidden ally way and shot towards Navanod. The man was silent, his breathing heavy, but no words came out when he moved his mouth, nor were he screaming. As the man ran past, Navanod grabbed his shirt and jerked the man downward.

"What are you running from?" He demanded as he pushed his pistol against the mans temple.

The man opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The mans eyes began to water and his lips tremble.

"I said. What are you running from?" Navanod lifted his pistol. Still, the man did not answer.

Frustrated yet again, Navanod released the man and moved toward the alleyway. The speechless man, seeing this his opportunity to escape, ran off further down the road. Navanod heard the man run, but did not take chase. Instead, he peered down the alleyway. He could see nothing but the unnatural blackness of the alleyway. Navanod raised his pistol to his hip and moved in the black shadow.

He could see nothing, not even the tip of his noise. A crunch caused him to spin around, "Who's there?" He demanded. Raising his pistol a little higher, and moved his other arm towards his retractable staff. "Who's there?" He demanded, though this time with more force behind his voice.

[Jack]

(Teradoc)
Scattering after their insertion into the Moon Haven, the Red Hand dispersed in two uneven teams, Teradoc taking only one partner while the group of three others split off to search the other side of the city. The evening light of the setting sun streamed horizontally, casting the building's shadows to their greatest lengths, a prime opportunity to begin their hunt. The Red Hand would scour the city at the onset of nightfall, holing up in abandoned buildings during the day to remain unseen. A prudent plan, Teradoc decided. The Red Hand are patient. The Cruxis will slip their guard and reveal themselves to us, and then our time to act will be at hand. The blackly armored forms of her and her soldier melted into the darkness of the alleyways, working their way into the interior of the city as the last fading rays of sunlight begin to dissappear from the rooftops.

The pair spotted many citizens walking about the city after nightfall, but Teradoc instinctively knew that none of these were Cruxis. The advanced elves, Teradoc knew, would have to take unusual precautions to disguise themselves as humans. They would be forced to wear bulky clothing that obscured their shoulders and backs in order to hide their wings, and such attire would be noticable in the dull summer heat that permeated the city. And so they picked their targets, following first a middle-aged man who wore on his back a wicker pack teeming with dried vegetables. After several minutes of careful observation from the shadows, Teradoc decided him human and moved on to another prospective target, a man wearing a bulky cloak. This as well was a false alarm, as were many of the picks that night. They'd taken an observation point, the rooftop of a low building, to rest, when Teradoc started. The man walking below them, a dusty-haired youth with his hands stuffed into his pockets, had an unmistakable bulge to the back of the coat he oddly wore. A Cruxis.

Without waiting on her partner Teradoc leaped down into the youth's path, barring his passage. The boy stumbled back alarmedly, his eyes growing wide as she drew her jagged sword.

"I haven't gotten any money, you'll find no profit in robbing me," he stammered, pulling his hands out of his pockets and preparing to flee.

The second Red Hand fell into place behind him flawlessly, cutting off his retreat. "We've other things to rob of you, Cruxis," he whispered vehemently, "Beginning with your life and ending with the fall of your entire race."

The Cruxis spun and slammed into the man, bowling them both over into the dusty street as Teradoc advanced. She'd forgotten how fast the advanced elves where, and by the time she reached her fallen comrade the Cruxis had ducked down an alleyway. She helped the other Red Hand to his feet, noting that the cupped hand clutching his side was slowly filling with blood. "Treacherous brat had a stilleto knife hidden in his sleeve," the soldier said apologetically, fearing his commander's retribution. Teradoc merely nodded and motioned for him to follow her down the alleyway.


. . .


A warm gust of air wafted by Navanod, and as his eyes strained into the darkness, the shadows stretched forward, becoming tangible things, at least to what little depth perception he had. He stepped back, holding his pistol at a parrallel to the walls of the alleyway, for lack of a more discernable target. "Who's there?" he asked again, masking the fear he felt with a grim determination.

"He is not the one," a low voice echoed, and Navanod jerked the barrel of his pistol so that it pointed in the direction of the unseen speaker. Confused, the ex-marine had been about to demand clarification when a second voice, authoritative and raspy, answered the first.

"This one has seen him. What other reason has he for charging into a blind alleyway but discovering the source of the Cruxis' fearful withdrawl?" The second speaker's voice was more distinctly heard as he turned and addressed Navanod, "Stand aside, human. This does not concern you."

"Yeah, and I don't like being bossed around by people too cowardly to show their faces in the light," Navanod slowly pivoted on the ball of his foot, bringing the pistol to face the rasp-voiced shadow denizen.

The unseen first speaker, who'd been on the left side of the alleyway, could be heard to unsheathe a dagger, the sound uncomfortably closer then the man's voice had been before. Navanod pulled his thumb back, cocking the high-powered pistol with a well-oiled click. Adrenaline pushed through his veins and he became conciously aware of how little sensory input the pitch-black alleyway gave him.

"Cease this, both of you," the rasping voice commanded, "Our group can no more leave a trail of bodies as evidence to our presence here then this man here can afford to make enemies of us. You'll find soon enough, human, that these Cruxis are no allies of yours. Should you see these false angels lingering about the Black Moon, seeking us out and providing us clues to their whereabouts could find you substantially rewarded. Good day, gentlebeing - and if we meet again and I find a pistol pointed in my direction, one of us will die," the shadowy figure stated factually. Another warm gust of air breezed past Navanod, and he found himself alone in the alleyway.

[Jack]

(Navanod)
Still holding his pistol ready, Navanod slowly edged his way out of the shadows of the alleyway. Taking step by caution step, he found his way back onto the streets of Moon Haven. The young ex-Marine, slowly lowered his pistol, while straining his ears to detect any possible danger. Navanod scanned the black alleyway, searching hopelessly for the strangers that could have taken his life so easily. Who the hell was that? He asked himself.
Navanod put his high-powered pistol back into its holster, not expecting any more danger or threats of any kind. Forgetting all of the intense and vigorous training, he endured while in the Marines, Navanod casually walked away.
As he walked along the deserted street, Navanod replayed what the strangers in the shadows had told him.

“Why do they want ‘false angels.’ And who the hell were they?” He said aloud. Navanod shook his head, trying the shake the thoughts. Forget it. He ordered himself. I need to find Jacob. I need to find where he is. He abruptly stopped walking and his eyes widened.

“That one said I’d be rewarded if I gave them information about those Cruxis…they might be able to help me find my brother…” Navanod’s hope began to rise once again. Perhaps he would be able to find his lost brother after all. With the help of these strangers, whoever they are, he just might see his loved brother once more.

Feeling more hope then ever before along his journey, Navanod strode off into the city in search of these Cruxis, these ‘false angels.’ I’ll see you soon Jacob…soon…


(out of character: You are a really good writer. Have you ever thought of writing books or stories? I'm sure they'd be published)

[Jack]

(Teradoc)
NRP:Thanks for the vote of confidence, I don't think I'm quite good enough to get anything published, though.


"We've captured one," a voice whispered harshly from the shadows to Teradoc's right. The Red Hand's sillohoutte was bleakly visible as a blocky shape in a dark doorway. She ducked into the shadow, followed closely by her injured soldier. Only one of the other team stood before them in the unlit antechamber of the abandoned building.

"Your team?" Teradoc rasped, eyes flitting from the corners of the room to the dark shapes of what may have been furniture.

"One lost," the man reported, a pained edge to his voice. "The other will succumb to his wounds shortly as well. The Cruxis was every bit of foe you'd trained us for, Commander. He is bound in the room beyond, though I've yet to make him speak."

"You're injured," Teradoc stated flatly, sizing up what she could see of the soldier through the curtain of darkness.

"Non-fatally," he replied bluntly, turning and leading them into the room beyond, lit sparsely with candles. Here the was the captured Cruxis, naked and with hands and feet shackled securely, lengths of chain binding him to his seat. The Cruxis' face was battered and swollen, crusted blood sealing one black eye, cuts and abrasions adorning the rest of his face. The false angel had been bound here and there with seeping bits of cloth about his wounds, to keep him from bleeding to death before they could begin his interrogation properly. Despite his beating the advanced elf seemed aware of his captors about him as they entered the dank room, their prisoner tilting up his head defiantly and biting down hard on the cloth they'd gagged him with.

Being naked increased the prisoners' sense of vulnerablility severalfold, though Teradoc could see that the beating administered by the Red Hand soldier had only deepened his resolve to resist them. More subtle techniques will be necessary, she thought grimly. "You've questioned him?" she rasped, turning to face the nearby soldier. She could see in the bleak light afforded that his wounds were in fact serious, blood streaked down his armor from the left side of his neck, where a wet swath of bandages was failing to stem the flow of blood.

"No, Commander. The beating was to put him into submission. He resisted capture," the soldier said, somewhat impressing her with the understatement. Killing one and critically injuring the two others is more then simply resisting capture. Perhaps my Red Hand unit is ill-equipped for dealing with the Cruxis. She left her idle thoughts unspoken and turned back to the matters at hand. Raw defiance permeated from the Cruxis' open eye, and the set of his jaw told her in what manner she was to undertake the interrogation.

"I can see that you're very strong-willed, and that your loyalty to your race will feed me silence, or worse yet, lies, should I question you. Instead I'm going to begin torturing you, and in the end, you will talk. I'm sure the Cruxis, should they learn of what has come to pass here, will be proud of how long you resist me, and none will think less of you for breaking, which I assure you, you will. It is now the late hours of the night, and I intend to move against the Cruxis with the information you give me by daybreak."

Teradoc held out her hand to the subbordinate she'd been travelling with, and he quickly supplied her with his wickedly curved knife from the sheath at his belt. "Hold his left hand," she commanded, "We'll be beginning with his fingers." The soldiers moved into position as the Cruxis began struggling, eyes wide and faint, muffled noises coming through the gag at his mouth. Perhaps he's already willing to talk, she thought offhandedly as she slowly slipped the dagger's edge into the flesh of the man's far finger, eliciting a small squirt of blood. After an hour of this, and perhaps all his fingers, he will betray anyone, anything, if we promise to cease the torture.

"See to your wounds," She ordered her two remaining soldiers. "The Dauntless comes for retrieval in two days, and we're only discovering the location of the Cruxis now." The mission was proceeding along the timetable she'd planned, despite the losses the Red Hand had taken already. The Cruxis was foolish to let down their guard, even in a place as remote as the Moon Haven.

[Jack]

The fatally wounded Red Hand soldier gave another choked gurgle, prompting Teradoc to pause her ministrations and glance up at him. His eyes had rolled back, and another sputtering cough stained his face-cloth with blood. The Commander turned back to her work, her hands buried to the wrists in the gaping wound the man had recieved. Blood bubbled around the crude instruments she'd managed to procure, making it difficult to see what she was doing. This wound was one of the worst she'd seen, and she knew she wasn't qualified as a field surgeon and that in likelyhood the man would die.

The force of the swordstrike the soldier had endured had penetrated the man's chest-plate, but then broken off as the man fell, leaving a four-inch length of sharpened metal embedded between his ribs. The torn muscle about the wound had contracted as he went into shock, firmly holding the piece of blade she was trying to extract. She was fairly sure it had punctured his lung, but keeping the cavity she was working in from flooding with blood was really beyond her means. The tangled strings of flesh and tendon, however, refused to release the shard of metal without causing further damage.

The soldier gasped one last time, and then exahaled, a slow death rattle, which preceded the trickle of blood that ran out from under his face-cloth. His eyes glared vacantly, only the whites showing. Teradoc let out a roaring scream and threw her tools against the wall, splattering it with blood. Another soldier lost while under my command. The Cruxis will pay dearly for each of their deaths. She grimly turned back to the wound, and with a rip she tugged the bit of blade out of the dead man and turned, running her gauntleted fingers over the blood-smeared metal. Without a glance back she thundered into the next room, where the captured Cruxis sat, bruised and beaten. Her two remaining Red Hand soldiers looked up darkly.

"Still he resists, Commander. Perhaps if you-"

"Out of my way," she interrupted coldly, working the bit of broken blade between her fingers. The bound and chained Cruxis, still naked and missing now eight of his fingers, cracked his unswollen eye to gaze across the room wearily. "I've nearly run out of mercy for your kind tonight," Teradoc rasped, ripping the gag free of his mouth. "So this is your last chance to tell me. Where are the Cruxis hiding?" He answered by spitting in her face, red-tinted saliva spraying across her iron mask.

"In truth," she said throatily, "That was the answer I was hoping for." With a sudden lunge, she jabbed the broken blade into his open eye.

The Cruxis recoiled, screaming, as she turned away, but with hands bound and shackled, and the rest of his body firmly tethered to his chair, he could not pull the bit of metal free, or even raise his hands to clutch at his eye. "Gag him again, he won't be able to hear me through his own screaming," she commanded her two soldiers, spurring them into motion. As the cloth again was stuffed into the wailing Cruxis' mouth, she faced him coldly.

"You have resisted the interrogation, and for that you should take pride. In doing so, however, you've doomed one of your fellows to suffer the same torture that you have, as we will simply be capturing another one, and if need be another one after that, until we have the information we require. Your friends the Cruxis will die, and had you given us their location they would have fallen honorably in battle. Now more of them will have to suffer as you have. We'll be leaving you behind, as a message to the Cruxis, should they find you before you bleed to death, of course."

She turned away, brushing past her two soldiers. "Gather our dead, we take them with us."

"Commander, is leaving him alive advisable?"

"Dead, he would spark fury in the Cruxis and send them boiling out from their recluse upon us. Mangled as he is, he will inspire fear and paranoia. If we slew him, another Cruxis soldier would take his place. By forcing them to expend resources bringing him back to health, we can strain the Cruxis as a whole." she turned and placed an armored hand on the soldier nearest her.

"I've been training the Red Hand in small unit tactics, guerilla warfare, for small skirmishes. When fighting against far larger groups, such as the Cruxis, numbers mean nothing. We cannot destroy their forces through killing their soldiers in open combat. They as a group must be broken, where they will then be scattered and can be dealt with. To break them we must exhaust their resources, pit them against each other, seed doubts about their leadership. Doubts about Mithos, and his ability to save the Cruxis."

[Jack]

(Navanod)
Navanod scratched his bearded chin for the umpteenth time. He had been walking the streets of Moon Haven for hours now, searching for the shadowed strangers that had spared his life earlier. Where are they? He asked himself for the thousandth time.
The streets where dark, and the sky was as black as black could be. The stars, barely lit, and the cities lights were dim and fading. It would be morning in an hour or so.
“I need some sleep.” He yawned loudly. Navanod began to turn down a side street to find a hotel or suitable resting place, when he heard screaming. Navanod pulled his high-powered pistol from his belt and ran toward the piercing sound.
He could tell he was getting close to the source of the screaming, for it grew louder and louder. Navanod turned down a side street, but paused his pursuit when the screaming ceased. Navanod dropped to his knees and pushed up against the wall of a building. Perspiration dripped from his forehead, but he ignored the watery substance when he saw a dark figure walk out a building. It’s them! He knew. Then who was screaming? He asked himself. Another figure moved out of the building and approached the first, exchanging words silently. This is my only chance. He convinced himself. Navanod slid his pistol back into its holster and he moved from the shadowed wall.
“You there!” He shouted.

[Jack]

(Teradoc)
Navanod's shout was swallowed quickly by the dead air of the dark night. No echo rebounded across the faces of the shadow-swathed buildings, and the ex-marine suddenly felt very isolated from the rest of the city. The dark figures ahead were fully armored, giving them a more sinister look then he'd imagined from the voices in the darkness.

"Twice our paths have crossed now, creature. Seeking us out can be like stepping into a nest of vipers. Who are you and what do you want?" As her gravelly voice rasped into the night, the third Red Hand member glided out of the building and edged around Navanod, making it impossible to keep them all in his sight at once.

"My name is Navanod Atokad. I'm on the Black moon in search of my brother."

They were silent for a moment, and Navanod was on edge again, expecting an attack. The leader's gravelly voice rasped into the night again as the seconds stretched along. "If you are who you claim, then we must invite you to join us on our ship, the Dauntless. In fact, we insist."

"What?! I'm not going anywhere." Navanod tightened his grip on his pistol, his eyes darting from figure to dark-clad figure.

"In two days our ship will be taking us to the last known position of the Dakota, the ship that was paid to smuggle the Cruxis to the Black Moon. Your Jacob Atokad is none other then that ship's captain."

Navanod withdrew his hand from his gun, looking around dubiously. "Done chasing your 'angels', then? How can I know you're not after my brother, as well?"

"The Red Hand are assassins and spies, not an army. We are paid to find the Cruxis, and we believe your brother can help us do so. He won't be harmed, provided he doesn't attempt to withold any information from us. If you want to see your brother again, you'll be at the outlands to the north of this city in two days."

[Jack]

"Maybe you should loosen up a bit." Navanod tried to sound as confident as he could, but his uneasiness was as visible as day.

"You will be there in two days." Her raspy voice demanding Navanod's obedience.

Navanod, feeling somewhat frightened, took a few steps back to keep some distance between him and the menacing individual in front of him.
Navanod took a big gulp, swallowing his cowardliness. "I will not be pushed around!" He almost shouted. "I am not a puppet! Yes, I do need your help. But I will not be treated like a maggot!"

Feeling more confident in his ability to handle himself, which years of being a Marine had taught him to do, Navanod put on the fiercest face he could. It was a face which a normal man would cower to. But this was no normal man in front of Navanod. In fact, Navanod was doubting this person even to be human.

"Ignorant little boy. You need our assistance. You will obey me. You will be at the north end of this city in two days." She motioned for listening Red Hand to leave.

"Two days Navanod Atokad." She said as she turned around and disappeared into the darkness.