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Everyday Stresses of Kazuki
X19: Dual Escapades

X19: Dual Escapades

Venturing through the vessel, Archius reached the prison brig. It was even more desolate than the rest of the vessel, with only a few people standing guard, giving nervous glances towards a room attached to the side of it.

That was probably the place. He walked across the hall, glancing looks left and right into empty cells, some with people in it, others with corpses - he couldn't tell the difference most of the time. The far end of the brig had steel-locked doors lining the wall, with small slits.

If he was the gunrunners, he'd place Kazuki in one of them. Each of them had a designation engraved into the wall above the door, worn out by frost and time. Muttering to himself, he approached the side room. Opening it, he entered. There were no windows, so if anything gets messy, it'll be the clean-sort-of-messy.

It was a break room, with a single person sleeping on a chair in the middle of a bunch of control panels. The room was lined with consoles and machines, most were turned off or looked broken. But the walls? They were lined with tools, weapons, though to call them weapons would imply that they were made to kill. He noted all of them, recognising each and every one of them.

"Ugh..." He didnt have the perfect memory of Kazuki, but he could denote the purpose of each torture device present. He raised his face upon seeing a Cantihan Skin Bleacher, quite an exquisite range of tools! How interesting, he thought.

But he should get some information from the sleeping person, a man wearing goggles, with a short blonde beard, it looked rather messy. "Hey," said Archius. The man woke up, abruptly as he shot Archius a glare.

He placed both his hands up, leaning against the side-consoles. "Shouldn't really be sleeping on the job, should you?" asked Archius. He could kill him at any moment, but he should at least harvest enough information to get the ball going.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing here?" asked the man, standing up. They had a great coat and a patched up imperial navy tunic beneath that, thick with the smell of blood. The tunic had the Sigil of one of the lost Imperial fleets destroyed in the Imperial’s rout from Anagora’s orbit, seems like whoever it belonged to was long dead.

This must be one of those interrogators.

"What? Am I not allowed to check up on people?" asked Archius. "Come on, this planet's a frozen-cathing wasteland already, it'd be rude to not be nice to others."

Archius mimicked the accent of someone from Narisa, rough and rugged, but with a sense of youth in it - since all the old fucks had died in the war. He even added in a local swear, should seal the deal that he’s one of them.

The interrogator backed down, slowly. He nodded, calmly. "I see, well, thanks for waking me up. I... uh, I'll need to bet back to work, sooner or later."

Archius nodded. From what he's heard the interrogators aren't exactly liked, and this might be a chance to harvest things from him. "Just telling you, some of the guys in the mess were smack-talking you."

"Oh? You'd expect that with this job," said the interrogator. "We do the hard work where no one else wants to, just the way things are."

"Guess I'm here to appreciate your hard work, then?" Archius mused, shrugging as the man slowly turned away, glancing at his set of tools and devices.

He shook his head. "No need, we do our part, like how you in the distribution net do." Oh? So Leon isn't stupid enough to make this all messy? Perhaps he'll get something even more tasty biting his mind.

"But we in the distribution can only do our jobs because the other people do theirs. No point distributing merchandise if we're under fire from a thousand fucking guns from orbit." said Archius.

The interrogator clicked his fingers a few times, before pointing straight forward, glancing towards Archius. "Fuck, you just reminded me... The next client's the Contract-Breaker..." He shivered at the mention of the name.

Archius faked a shiver, widening his eyes at the name. "Wait... it's true? We got the bastard? That short, stupid, idiotic bastard?"

"Yeah," said the interrogator, nodding with fervour. "I hope that things will be... smooth. We got him locked up in C2, maybe if you're lucky Leon will bring you in."

Archius chuckled before placing his hands out again. "Woah! I'm suicidal, but not that suicidal."

"Pfft, you think we just have him set loose in there? He's binded down, don't worry. We'll have some of those... mercenaries with us as well." The interrogator slowed down his train of thought, at least that's what Archius thinks happened. "Guh... mercs."

"Gotta do what's gotta be done, right?" asked Archius, showing that he's been taking in what the interrogator's said.

He smiled through his blonde beard, nodding as he turned towards the tools, pointing fingers at various ones as he thought. "You got me there!"

He chuckled, as Archius walked behind him. The guy seemed to be in high spirits, but he's served his purpose. Archius dropped the facade, and before the interrogator could choose what to use, Archius slid his hand into his pocket.

Pulling out his revolver, he sighed silently. The interrogator was still thinking about his tools. Archius placed his hand in his other pocket, grabbing a small silencer out, before screwing it onto the muzzle of the revolver.

“Anyways, what’s your name?” asked Archius, slowly loosening his tongue and voice.

“Aethon, yours?” the interrogator answered. What a shame, Archius thought.

He cracked the receiver.

"Huh?" Aethon made a noise, before making a move to turn around. Archius aimed, and fired. A thump noise slipped through the room, into their head and out the other side. And Aethon dropped dead, leaving only Archius.

∗ ∗ ∗

Thoughts ago formed up in readily neat lines, ready for execution.

In less than a second, Kazuki’s mind threw itself into action. ANCHOR. Nothing fired. Out of power?! Fried. Fried?! Shit. His analysis came in quick as he crashed downwards, the shuttle disappearing into the storm.

He felt his exospine burnt out with energy as his fall seemingly slowed, before his corpse collapsed. His brain was filled with an overflow of uplink information, then static shatter. And then nothing.

Red covered his eyes. His exospine screamed out in pain. It felt like a dreadnought just rammed into his back, and his uplink fell silent. He raised one hand, covered with splitting lacerations and cuts through his glove.

He peeled his blood covered helm-mask off. The hydraulics easily shut off. Kazuki pushed himself upwards and placed it against his belt.

His aug-glasses were still cracked, yet showed a dozen lights across the debris field… What does he do now?

Instinctively, he went to touch his uplink, but only sparks flew out from it. Piece of shit Clandestine gear… He slowly pushed himself upwards, against a piece of debris hidden within the blizzard. Silhouettes were visible through the smog.

Inaudible chatter sharpened his senses. He slowly reached for his weapons… His carbine was in pieces. He reached for his backup holster, pulling out a plasma pistol. It’ll have to do for now. He pulled the receiver forward, priming in a new gas-cartridge.

He tugged at his scarf, tightening it around his exospine’s nape area. The place was crawling with mercs. He reclocked his cybernetics, feeling his heart pump fresh blood. Adrenaline bled into him; he’ll have to disappear… but to where?! That’s a problem for ten minutes later Kazuki, not Kazuki in this predicament.

The figures in the smoke were all searching around, patrolling the debris around him. He raised his pistol, waiting for the right moment… As three mercs got together, talking, he pulled the trigger. The other two panicked, but they were spliced open too. And three bodies hit the ground.

“Contract-Breaker! He’s here!” a voice cried out from across the broken shipyard. Kazuki clambered away behind cover, amidst a confused screen of projectiles.

Through the agony in his mind, he was able to dive through a hailstorm of bullets. He continued to move, weaving beneath bullets and bolts. They never learn fast enough, Kazuki thought, watching as they tried to converge on his location.

He’s behind enemy lines, with low munitions to start off with. He checked his pistol, he’s getting low on gas bolts. An explosion rocked the ground beside him. GRENADES. He ignited his shield, thrown back from the explosion. He quickly staggered up, ducking behind a broken hauler. And through the snowstorm, he ignited a smoke bomb, sending the entire field into a shroud of ash.

Clambering onto the shuttle, he pressed himself against the side of the doorway, injecting himself manually with more stims. What the fuck should he do?! But he couldn’t spare a single thought as a flashlight shot past him, a pair of footsteps crunching up the ramp. Kazuki hugged the wall, slowly extending his muzzle out as the merc pierced forward, scanning right, then left.

The moment the merc glanced at Kazuki’s golden eyes, their brains were splattered against the wall. Kazuki rushed forward, grabbing their rifle. More footsteps trudged through the snow covered debris field towards him. Passing the doorway, he fired down into two more mercs, splitting them open as he took cover on the other side. The snowstorm had covered the dead and debris up already, with the smoke dissipating.

Bolts flew by to suppress him as they advanced. He kicked himself out of cover, charging forward.

Bolts met his shield as Kazuki overcharged his pistol. The mercs themselves flicked their shields on. But it was too slow. Plasma bolts splattered their joints and neck before they could hide behind their shields.

A bolt of scorching plasma crashed into Kazuki’s leg, as shuttles started to fly by overhead, shining searchlights down at him.

Half-blinded by them, he fought onwards, ducking and using everything to his advantage as he sent munitions into the heads of everything set before him.

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But they were pushing him back slowly, the sheer volume of bolts forced him to play defensively.

“Fuck,” Kazuki uttered to himself. This is unsustainable, he’ll have to exfiltrate somehow.

Igniting another grenade, a vacuum bomb sent limbs into red mist across the debris field. The mist disappeared into the storm, with Kazuki chucking all he had. He expected them to be on his heels.

But glancing behind him, they weren’t approaching. Instead, they retreated, fleeing backwards against Kazuki’s radiating wrath. And as he looked upwards, he heard the song of the string missiles.

Whistling through the sky, the small skybird strings avoided Kazuki, instead hitting the ground and debris all around him - sending secondary fireballs up into the air.

Kazuki activated his shield, overloading it as he withstood the blast, flung backwards into a protruding pile of rubble. A piece of metal stabbed through his shoulder blade… FUCK, it was painful. He couldn’t give it any other descriptor, as pressing down and inhaling painkillers through an inhaler. It was enough to get high, but he endured. Slowly, he pried the metal blade out.

More blood poured down his face. His aug-glasses had completely broken, no longer giving him any threat detections. Fuck… He has to run. But they were moving in - fast. Flames were around him.

Shuttles closed in, several of them.

A league of mercenaries rushed in through the snow and blizzard, blasting away at Kazuki. With his shield flickering off, Kazuki powered through the plasma and bullets using his armour.

Kazuki threw himself up. He had to keep moving! Move. Move. Move! Igniting his exospine’s gears, an explosion engulfed his nape. Searing pain gave way to a smooth clarity. Cunning. Calculating. Kazuki crushed forward, mere seconds passing in his minds to mere moments for these Contractors.

The Contractors stood no chance, as Kazuki’s body and mind filtered fast around them. The stimulants had sped time up for him.

It bought him time with blood.

With that time, he fired fusillades into the back of each Contractor placed against him. His movements felt swift and sluggish – a sifting mix of searing agony and speed.

Still, he kept up, continuously killing batches of Contractors before they could react, until the stimulants finally wore off. Kazuki fell to one knee, just as all the bodies hit the floor...

The snow and blizzard were painted red for a moment, before the frost took over once more.

“Move it. He’s mine…” said Tifta, approaching through the storm. “It ain’t personal, Kazuki! You know that!” He wore armour similar to Kazuki’s, though it had signs of wear and tear, like the rest of his men.

“Still… I’ll kill you!” Kazuki shouted, staggering upwards as the mercs surrounded him, taking point. He can’t fight Tifta, he can’t. He’s too worn down and injured.

He couldn’t give up now. The gunrunners were still active. They knew something that the loyalists also had known… There was the Mischief Board as well… something is going on. He can’t die, not now. He cannot die. Who else will carry the burden if he did?

He repeated it to himself, staggering up as wounds covered him. Lacerations, cuts, bruises and gun holes. Everything was present.

Tifta looked at him, taking his helmet. He glared at Kazuki, his ginger hair blowing through the blizzard.. “Maybe I'll go for your spot on the seven.”

Fuck… Kazuki grabbed hold of his pistol, spitting out another batch of blood with steam. Shit… where was anyone? Did they… abandon him? Probably… If they stayed, they would have been chewed up.

“Absolutely not… There’s more to the seven than just killing one of us.”

He was far from a combat ready state. The fall had dealt much to his weariness, and he couldn’t hold himself for long. But that didn’t include all the other injuries he’s sustained. His movements were sluggish, fast compared to them - but sluggish to him. The reinforcements to his nape were wearing away. The modified power port bled with steam.

Tifta stood firm, slowly reloading his pistol. And as Tifta aimed, Kazuki activated his own shield, deflecting the bolt as he charged forward, unleashing a storm of plasma from his WRIST-SHOT.

“AGH!”

The scatter of projectiles skimmed Tifta as he shook backwards, firing frantically at Kazuki. But as he neared ever so closer, he drew his Vesarian reinforced half-blade from his leg-sheathe, aiming to plunge it directly into Tifta’s arm. Tifta ruptured forward his own projected shield.

Yet as Kaz pushed the blade forward, steam exploded from his spine and mouth. Shit, he’s out of time! He could Overclock his exospine. He only half-assed it with Svenn, but this time he’ll need to flick it to full power. It’ll kill him, probably, but he’ll win this fight.

Should he? Kazuki debated within himself. No…

And in the split second of his lull, Tifta regained his confidence and footing. Grabbing a lock-nade, he primed it as he pushed himself towards Kazuki. Kazuki bounced the nade off his shield as he embedded the blade into Tifta’s shoulder, aiming to cut him up, a quick death.

But Tifta gritted through the pain. Drawing his hand upwards, he battered a second nade against the shield. Kazuki tried pulling himself away from the counter. His head swayed backwards, and in a moment of weakness: it connected. Frozen in stasis, Kazuki was left motionless - as Tifta socked Kazuki in the head.

“Sorry about this…” Tifta trailed off, “Don’t worry, I ain’t killing you. That’s for Tacisano.”

∗ ∗ ∗

Cold blood dripped down his face, the freezing air stung his flesh as he gasped for air. And as he opened his eyes, he was met with the glares of half a dozen people, blurred. What… happened? He had no idea. He felt a drop of blood rush down his temple, covering his eyes

Head trauma? Kazuki tried to give himself a self diagnosis, but his mind refused, exhausted. He’ll pump it full of drugs later to wake it up. The aug-glasses that gave him combat-readings were broken, their lenses cracked and damaged as information flicked on and off. He was freezing… He let off ragged breaths as he felt his cybernetics splutter with energy. Where was he? He tried moving his hands, nothing. He tugged once again, they were tied. His legs were also tied. His uplinked nerves were dead. No communication possible.

He spat out blood, along with a score of scalding steam. A cold voice echoed through the small chamber. “Did you take his exospine off?”

“No. It’s merged onto him, but his power core’s out. Trust me, he won’t bite like this!” The voice was familiar, Kazuki knew who it was… His mind refused to work, he tried pushing it into overdrive. He tried to move his hands… they were shaking, ever so slightly.

Kazuki’s head swayed down and up, he was delirious, his exospine was out of power, no cartridge charge. He could feel his mechanical organs slowly fail. Then, a hand wiped the blood from his eyes, as he laid eyes on the leaders of the smugglers. Leon Toran-Antigonid; Osmond Kellyr-Unith with a small detail of criminals and mercenaries.

His armour was gone, leaving only his winter clothes. Something stung across his entire torso. What the fuck… happened? What was going on? He could barely think as a figure approached him, kneeling down. They placed a hand on his cheek… Tifta, his ginger hair tied up like always.

“Thank Iris you’re alive…” Tifta muttered to him, patting him on the shoulder. “Welcome to the world of the living, the living aren’t done with you yet, like that political rescue op…”

“Tacisano.” Kazuki bit off one word. His gums were numb, but he continued, “Claire and I dragged you from a crashed shuttle. Thirty seven bolt wounds. Seven slashes.”

“Oh, yeah, so you do remember.” remarked Tifta, his face covered with stitches as he took one glance up at his employers.

“Of course.”

Tifta shook his head. “Money’s money, gotta do what I gotta do, sorry.”

His dead eyes turned into a golden blaze as he glared at all of them. The guards raised their muzzles in response. After everything, this is what he gets? But he didn’t blame Tifta. Work is work; and money is money.

That is a universal constant.

“Contract-Breaker… your freemuzzles are nowhere to be seen…” started Leon, approaching and pushing Tifta aside, “You’re not as scary as the reels said. In fact, you’re shorter than I expected… Are all of the seven mercs like this? All talk, no guns? I expected something akin to the seven criminals… and yet, here you are…”

There were a dozen or so people in the room. The Contractors had lighter armour, but better guns; the gunrunners had thicker armour - but were less skilled. Either way, easy prey. They all die the same. The gunrunners’ thick layered clothes are of no protection to them.

“You’re all small players. Not worth our time,” stated Kazuki. “Spare me the time and kill yourselves. All of you.”

“Hmm?” Leon asked, “Really? Then why come personally? Huh… what is it that I have done! To have made you so predictable.” Leon leant in, punching Kazuki in the liver with his right hand. “And don’t you dare ever lecture me... You high nobles with your high tables and dishes...”

His lungs felt like they had needles prodded into them. Kazuki spat blood onto Leon’s face, hiding the pain. He desperately needed painkillers. It was the biggest act of defiance he could hold right now. Despite being a member of the Seven, he could do nothing.

“I’ll take your arm off for that,” Kazuki promised, glaring at Leon. In return, he started chuckling.

Raising his shot axe, he slammed the blunt side into Kazuki’s face. He felt blood drip as his aug-glasses shattered. Tifta tried to dissuade Leon, but he was put in his place with a simple threat.

“Be thankful…” said Leon, in a cruel voice, slicing his axe down and pumping in a round into its firing chamber. “Now then… let’s talk.”

Kazuki slowly looked up at Leon, his face battered but not broken. Leon’s blood red-hair and black eyes stared directly at Kazuki. He spat blood at Leon’s boots, heaving for air.

“Hmm, loosen his tongue.”

Leon looked at one of the crims in the room. He nodded, approaching Kazuki and walking around the chair, before grabbing a knife. Kazuki knew what would happen. The knife slid into his flesh, but he gave Leon no satisfaction.

Kazuki could tell the knife deliberately missed any arteries, probably wanting to prolong his suffering. He’ll have to hold out… Archius? Sato? Eliza? He can rely on them, Kazuki assured himself. He placed his trust in them, his trust that they’ll be coming… Any time soon.

Kazuki turned to the torturer. Something felt off about them… They looked soulless, almost as much as him. But even so, they had a menacing glare behind their goggles. They had a short, blonde beard. His guts told him they were just a head or so taller, no idea why he knew that, Kaz thought.

“Not very responsive…” Leon sounded disappointed, turning to Osmond, “You have any questions? Osmond?”

Osmond quickly shook his head, as if avoiding the spotlight. Leon simply gave a cold nod to his second in command, turning back to Kazuki. “I see… Well, welcome to the Rock. In fact, I think this vessel used to be one of your father’s! Very fitting for that posh cath’s son to be here.”

Leon laughed coldly. Kicking Kazuki in the shin... Ouch. He would not dignify Leon with a response.

Leon was insane, anyone could see that. The stink of blood radiating off him was only even more damning evidence. Insane people… should be easy to kill, they’re typically not the type to think through all possibilities. If anything, Leon seems impulsive.

“You’re all the same. Power. Money. Family. Doesn’t matter what drives you. You all end up dead,” remarked Kazuki, biting each breath and word off. He glared. “I’ve killed far worse people than you. And far better.”

Leon’s laugh died, slinking down to Kazuki’s level. He placed one finger on Kazuki’s cheek, before punching him in the guts. Kazuki shook slightly from the punch, but felt nothing from it… nevermind… the pain was real. Nonetheless, he endured.

This is basic compared to what his training at Eden was…

“When you look around you… what do you see?” asked Leon. Osmond looked away as Kazuki glared at him. Tifta simply stood to the side, watching. “Come on. Answer it already.”

“A frozen fucking wasteland,” stated Kazuki, assuming the title of the soulless, heartless Contract-Breaker.

Leon shook his head slowly, disappointed and angry at the response. He grabbed Kazuki’s fringe, pulling it up to reveal his golden eyes. “No. It’s home. You rich-asses and your landed gentry have forgotten about us… You all left this planet to freeze over. EVEN THOUGH MY PARENTS AND THEIRS BEFORE THEM HELD BACK THE FUCKING TIDE. WE BOUGHT JUSTICE WITH OUR LIVES!”

Leon’s anger burst through as Osmond pressed himself against the wall. The torturer, however, stayed motionless, giving off an uneasy aura that Kazuki picked up. But it was overpowered by Leon’s rage as everyone in the room took a step back.

Despite wanting to give back a snide comment, Kaz couldn’t. He wouldn’t argue against facts. It was an objective statement: The Republic abandoned these people. They were forced to fend for themselves. Legal ways, yes. Illegal methods: also yes.

“We held back the Imp! Held them till they bombed us into prehistory! You left the fragments of this planet for me—me! To pick up,” ranted Leon, placing a finger against Kazuki’s chest, pointing at him. “I have been the only one using everything I can to fix this damn planet! And you just… walk in here… and BLOW IT ALL UP? NO ONE, no one, but me! Not the government, not the fucking Board - even if we’re their biggest suppliers - NO ONE CARES.”

Kazuki stayed motionless, unphased by his ranting. At least on his face. An injustice has been done, ironic that the ‘Arbiter’ has been sent to kill them all... What a mess and a joke.

“Justice? You bought justice?” Kazuki coughed, mimicking a laugh. “I’ll bring you all justice. I’ll kill you all. That’s enough for me.”

There was nothing to be done with this planet, even Kazuki knew that. Political will for post-war recovery was limited to places that gave valuable exports. Narisa had none.

Nothing he could do can change that... And the gears of death and injustice turn ever more.

Leon wasn’t amused. But in a paranoid rage, he turned towards Tifta. Tifta uncrossed his arms, glancing at Leon.

“What?” asked Tifta.

“And you… you destroyed a part of that hope,” said Leon. His eyes grew ever dimmer.

Tifta chuckled, “What?! I’ve been contracted to take care of the AGENCY, no—”

But as Tifta tried to explain himself, Leon smashed his skull in. The shot-axe activated its function, firing a shell of plasma directly into Tifta as it made contact. The mercenaries in the room all drew as a fight erupted, but were all cut down by the criminals, left for dead. Kazuki hid his surprise, glancing at Tifta. His body fell downwards, left bleeding out…

Leon turned to Osmond. “Kill them all.”

“Sir… I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Osmond objected to the order, scratching his head and worrying. But Leon fell silent, glaring at his second. Kazuki watched as Osmond’s eyes slowly gripped between Leon, and the torturer behind him. And as glares were exchanged, Osmond faltered.

“Nevermind! It will be done.” Osmond nodded, scared. And as Leon turned to Kazuki, Osmond left the cell, accompanied by the criminal guards, leaving only Leon, the corpses, the torturer, a dying Tifta and of course: the Contract-Breaker.

“Your friends are never finding us, Contact-Breaker. This frozen wasteland will be your grave.” Leon turned to the torturer. “Loosen him up for us, will you?” ordered Leon.

The torturer nodded. Satisfied, Leon left the room… Kazuki slowly turned to the torturer, then down at Tifta and his mercs. Tifta was dead, bled out. Half his face was missing. Shots rang out across the cruiser for a hot minute… before falling short. Kazuki wondered what would happen as the torturer retracted the knife out, a spurt of blood ejecting outwards.