Shades of Grey by Pundit | Part Seven : Lull
<clostridia@bigfoot.com>

I acknowledge that there are characters in this story which are the property of either Sega or Archie Comics. The story itself, however, is copyrighted to me, and while it may be distributed in any form, must not be altered under any circumstances. You may not derive any profit from this story. Should you wish to contact me, the above email address will suffice. I accept, and welcome comment, criticism, or flames, should you see the need. Thank you.
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It was quite an unusual, and definitely an unprecedented sight. As softly as a feather, a hovercraft, all gleaming metal, came to a gentle touchdown in the middle of the concrete strip. Shining brilliantly in the sun, it didn't look too different from the futuristic complex sheathed in black glass and silver metal just metres away.

The reception commitee consisted of seven Guardians, clustered rather menacingly in a group. Several frowns, an angry look here and there, and a few uncomfortable statements - fully understandable, since this was absolutely the first time this kind of thing had been done. This was disconcerting, most of all, to those steeped in the old ways, used to the old allegiances.

The three occupants vaulted over the side of the craft with almost insolent grace, landing as a group, with the leader in front, and his two subordinates trailing off to his side and back. They walked slowly, deliberately, statements carefully neutral. In the light breeze, their black robes flapped mildly, in rhythm.

With a final, heavy step, the leader of the group stopped in front of the Guardian cluster, several members of which were now sporting distrusting glowers. He pursed his lips, and took a breath. Subtly, he turned his head and looked at all of them through his cybernetic eye.

'Hello', he said, cracking a tight, wry grin.

***

The barb was picked with care. It stung as it was delivered. Obviously meant to throw him off balance.

He struggled for a moment, forcing himself to remain outwardly calm, as inwardly, he fantasized about passing a massive electrical bolt through that arrogant wretch's body, watching him jerk and writhe in unendurable pain, as the bolt overloaded his organs. Sojourner, he thought. He would remember that name.

Don't get upset. This is to be expected.

With an exasperated sigh, he placed his hand on the back of his head, ruffling the hair. He had to control himself, keep his calm, as he had done through the rather humiliating full body security scan for bugs and concealed weapons.

'It's obvious that you won't just trust me if I suddenly show up and tell you to, and I can't blame you for that.'

He paused, looking around the table, surveying the sour statements.

'But I think we all know too well what Dimitri has planned to happen in less than 36 hours time. And you all know that I can, and will help. So please, just work with me, okay?'

It had taken some effort, he observed, humbling himself before his enemies. Former enemies, he added mentally. But he'd done it. For the sake of his sister, for himself, to right the wrongs in the right way, not with violence.

Doing the right thing.

***

Remington was in a panic. The reason for that had been the rather hurried and flustered communication with Haven regarding the Dark Legion, and the arrival of the Dark Legion's latest plans.

How am I going to prepare the city in less than 36 hours?!

There was a list, he saw, of the primary objectives, the areas the Legion wanted to secure as quickly as possible. Data on their new weapon, the microwave blaster. From what the plans said, he was sure it would make a mess. Then there was that matter of the wild card, Kragok, the one person who was behaving unpredictably, a source of uncertainty.

He hated uncertainty.

Was that the same person whom he jailed just a few days ago? What would trigger such a turnabout?

He shook his head, concentrating on the printout in front of him.

***

'In addition to both Xenin and Rykor here, I have managed to get the support of a few other members of the Dark Legion, who will help us.'

***

'Hurry it up! The next patrol's due in less than four minutes!' The speaker was crouched at the side of a door, blaster at the ready, ready to rain hot laser into any intruders.

'Just a moment...' The other one was standing at a terminal in the corner, a blue glow illuminating her face. She typed frantically, looking for that one elusive variable. Moritori and his obsession with security, she thought, frustrated.

Then she was staring at it, staring at the master design document.

'Got it!' Her voice was joyful.

With a few keystrokes, a tiny value, lost in the sea of numbers, so insignificantly tiny yet possessed of great power, was altered. That should satisfy Kragok.

'Outta here!' At that, she unplugged a little box and padded towards the door, moving quickly and silently, gliding like a wraith, as her counterpart whipped out of the room into the corridor.

One down, two more to go...

***

'They're going to try to corrupt the computer plans for the manufacture of the new blaster addons. In fact, they should have completed that right about... now. Should cause some rather fascinating effects with the addon, which we hopefully won't need to worry about any more.'

He looked rather satisfied.

***

'Oh man! What a rush!'

The two of them were panting and heaving, having bowled into their quarters in a rush. They were almost giddy with excitement, lying flat on the floor.

'Can't believe we just did that!'

They spent a few moments catching their breaths.

'So, what made you decide to follow Kragok?'

***

'Teri, I don't care what their excuses are! Just cancel ALL current leave and tell them to get here NOW! Every single one of them! ASAP!' His voice was uncharacteristically loud and ruffled.

He slammed the communicator back onto his desk, spending a few seconds composing himself. He couldn't let the stress overwhelm him now. He stood, stretching a little, picking up a large rolled up map. Biting his lower lip, he made his way out the door.

Briefing time.

***

Locke nodded thoughtfully.

'Looks like we're going to have to split up to cover as much of the city as we can. What about Spectre and Tobor at the broadcasting station, Thunderhawk, Sojourner and Sabre at the government house, Knuckles and myself here. What do you think?'

There were affirmative shrugs and noises around the table.

'Sounds good,' Kragok said.

***

'Okay, everyone. I've marked on this map the location of every Dark Legion objective, including the two absolutely major ones at the center of the city. We need to establish defences at ALL these locations, which is going to be a nightmare to do. Regardless, do all you can, given the time you have.'

He paused, looking up from the map.

'We can rely on the assistance of both the Brotherhood at Haven, the Chaotix, both of whom I will be communicating with shortly, and...'

With a grimace, he trailed off, uncomfortably pronouncing the next word, even as he remembered that night.

'Kragok.'

The occupants of the room seemed to draw a collective breath.

'What? Did you just say Kragok?' The speaker seemed more stunned than disbelieving. Remington could feel the entire room population hanging on to his next few words.

'Yes, I did say Kragok. I don't know much about what happened, except that he contacted the Brotherhood, and gave them the complete plans of the Dark Legion regarding the attack, which is how we know about it in the first place. He's got the support of a small number of Legionnaires, and will rebel in the middle of it. The Brotherhood trusts him enough to VERY carefully work with him. More than that, I don't know. We'll just have to work around this uncertainty - leave it to the Brotherhood.' He gave a frustrated look.

The entire room erupted in chaos as twenty agitated people began to discuss how to deal with this highly unexpected news, and the various desperate measures they could take to secure all the locations.

'Get to work, people! And keep this quiet - we don't want to alarm the citizens!', he shouted, trying to make his voice heard over the hubbub. Rolling his eyes, he walked out of the room.

***

'Brothers and sisters! We stand on the threshold of a new age! In less than thirty six hours, our assault on the corrupt Brotherhood and their government lackeys will commence. With swiftness, we will swoop on our enemy and kill it before it reacts, casting it aside like the irrelevant force it is. Working together, towards our common goal, we will see this plan come to fruition, toppling those that seek to deny us of our rightful place! And everyone of us, every single one of us has a part to play. We will see this dream come true, you and I, as surely as I stand before you today! I promise you this! In the name of technology!'

The words were selected with care, as were the inflections of each syllable, and the pauses between the words. He was in control of the audience, mastering them and controlling them like so many willing leaves in the wind. Working them up, whipping them into a frenzy, preparing them for the task that lay ahead.

And he would get his revenge over those stiffnecked, parochial cowards who'd rejected all he represented - his one cherished goal which he lived for.

Oh yes...

***

He extracted a metal box from a drawer, holding it in his hands. Regarding it with a philosophical statement, watching the light playing on the surface, observing how the light interacted with the skull and crossbones etched into the cover. He thought he'd never need to use it. Circumstances had proved him wrong.

Just get it ready.

Stop playing with it.

The box was opened, revealing a slender metal tube, and a transparent ampoule of liquid the colour of golden straw, flourescing slightly. The ampoule was lifted carefully, almost reverentially, and placed in the tube. The tube locked with a hiss, and went into a concealed sheath somewhere in his clothes.

A quick and unexpected shot, the instant he could pull off a silent kill. The placement of the shot was irrelevant, as long as it got into the bloodstream. Rapid death. The death of his grandson. Perhaps regretful, but undoubtedly necessary. People who could not remain true to Dimitri's vision were traitors who had to be done away with.

And that was all that mattered.

***

The five of them were standing in the middle of the room. It was similar to the main conference room, just smaller and more private. The tension, he observed, and the heavy air of distrust did not hang in this room as it had when everyone was present. Now, it was just the five of them, Kragok, Xenin, Rykor, his father Locke, and himself. And he sensed that the other three were far more comfortable with the two of them than with the rest of the menagerie inhabiting the main conference room.

Kragok, who still bore the marks of their very recent last encounter in the form of several angry bruises, was strikingly civil and nonaggressive today, even when talking to him - a far cry from their usual status as bitter enemies. Definitely something to get used to.

He's come to terms with himself.

He tried to concentrate on Kragok's monologue regarding Moritori's plans for Haven.

'According to the plan, Moritori's going to bring in seven separate teams of Legionnaires, to try to overwhelm whatever we can set up here. He's banking on speed as a substitute for stealth as far as Haven is concerned. However, since six properly planted devices are required for the plan to succeed, we simply need to stop two to foil the plan. Moritori has placed me in his group, with Xenin and Rykor in another group. So, I suggest the both of you pick one of our groups to ambush each, and together we'll take out two groups. We can mop the rest of the groups up later on.'

The four others nodded slowly. They had nothing to add. After all, Kragok was the one with the planning experience.

'Right.'

'Moritori has decided that his group will go for the main power core of Haven, and Xenin's will go to the computer center. You'll have to lie in wait there, I guess. Moritori's going to stuff about a total of six into each group, so we'll have... umm... 39 Legionnaires including Moritori to deal with.'

***

Hands on his hips, he scanned the surroundings with an expert eye. The place known unofficially as the 'pit', where all the action took place in the halls of power. A massive, cavernous room three stories tall, shaped vaguely like an amphitheatre, with a sunken platform in the middle, where the speaker would hold forth. Above the platform were concentric rows of seats for the various party members. Finally, circling at the roof of the pit, was a glass walled viewing gallery, allowing full view of everything going on down below.

This is the place.

He turned to confer with an aide.

***

Moritori lay back, replacing the file on the table. The final batch of microwave addons had been manufactured and distributed, the attack schedules and routes were finalised, and everything was done. All he had to do was wait.

***

The three left the same way they entered, perhaps on vaguely better terms with the Guardians, who were, regardless, still quite suspicious.

'Think we can trust him?'

He shaded his eyes as the craft lifted up, heading for the horizon.

'We'll see, Knuckles. Very soon. In the meantime, we've got quite a lot of work to do inside. Better contact the Chaotix.'

***

He took a step forward, surveying the array of neatly arranged Legionnaires assembled in front of him. Waiting for his command. Behind him, the trio, Kragok, Rykor and Xenin stood quietly, at the ready. He lightly squeezed the blaster in his hand, feeling the coolness of the metal, running his finger over the trigger guard. In short order, he'd get to use it, of that much he was sure.

Perfect.