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86 | Call of War

He turned and raised his sword slightly, “The time is nigh,” Jack needed to have every single one of these rats die so he’d never have to talk like this again. At least Jonah had left already.

“The time is now, the time of Death. Fulfill the glorious death-purpose of Rat-Kind and bring the true end to the vile crab. We sweep through and drive up, when we break the abominations upon our weapons we will drive the crab swarm up!”

He swept his blade through the map starting from their circled position as he carved a route through the map, “We will purge them like the wheel of time purges all life and break them against oblivion.” He stabbed his sword into the black zone to the north.

He’d bring every rat and ManRat with him in a death-march south into the Engine Department sewers where two large crab positions were located. He’d see how those attacks worked before sweeping clockwise through and then driving north into the Cryo sewers and continue even further north into Arkhology.

He’d have to bring the Rat horde through to the end but he was still avoiding going through the Cargo-Bay ‘dark one’ nonsense. Leanne wasn’t likely to be there if she had been tracking Tule.

Hopefully, Jonah would be able to pick up Leanne’s signal along the way. If they did, great, if not then he couldn’t afford to stay down here. He suspected that the Rats would not be open to negotiating the death of their messiah.

They’d drive through and push the crabs between a rat-hammer and oblivion-anvil of whatever was in the far North of the ship. He wasn’t going to waste time managing a drawn-out Rat-Crab war, ship-that, he didn’t know how to run a war at all.

He did know how to make a Run though, and this would be like that but one that covered more than half of the ship and at the head of a gruesome horde consisting of every Rat down here.

“Death Champion, prepare the worthy!”

“So speaks the BlackJack!” The Skull Seer actually managed to burst his eardrum this time as its eyes spiraled with barely contained zeal.

‘Death. Death. Death. Death.’ The chat filled the room as the ManRats and fat rats drove themselves into frothing ecstasy at the thought.

“END APOCALYPSE HERE! PREPARE ManRat-kind!” Rattigan’s voice was deeper now. Had the already large, muscular Rat… grown? Jack was almost sure that the Rat was taller than Jonah now and looked to be approaching Jack in width.

He sent a silent prayer in hope that he hadn’t created some kind of SuperDeath-RatMan. He felt his prayer almost immediately get lost on its way through the complicated twists and turns of the sewers.

The door was flung open and every rat except Rattigan rushed out.

This was going to be a mess. He thought back to the giant battles pictured in the murals. That was seeming more like a best case scenario.

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The Waste Disposal SI had gotten lucky and he knew it. He had nurtured this rat death cult over countless years, slowly and deliberately. It had happened easier than he thought though, the rats had such a reduced sense of self preservation really it would have become a death cult with his interference or not. Probably. Either way, he only cared for purifying trash and preserving Human-life. Once you were no longer Human… then you were trash in need of Purification.

Disgusting filthy creatures! All of them. He’d ride this mostly Human’s back until… wait. Was that a crab? No, no it wasn’t, it was just a shadow that looked like a crab. What was he thinking about again?

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There was a massive hall with black lines of RatMen pouring in from numerous doorways. They filed into the space in silence, their paw padded feet and their armored robes didn’t make so much as a rustle as the room continued to fill. Perches carved in bands that circled the room were filled with rats of all shapes, colors, and sizes, as always, black was predominant.

Ship. I’m going to have to make a speech.

Jack groaned quietly as he followed Rattigan to the raised section in the center of the room.

He spun slowly around, taking in the sight. There were a lot of Rats.

“This is all?”

Rattigan gently shook his head, “No BlackJack, perhaps less than half, many engaged with crabs throughout Wastes.”

Great.

“You know the plan, which way do we head first and how far is it?”

Rattigan pointed in a direction, “That way and not far.”

“Specific, how far.”

“Two hours by paw. To gather Great Host on the way, slower.”

Jack thought about that, two hours, and that was just the distance to the first spot. He took in his surroundings again and noticed the entire Host was staring at him, Rattigan included. Damn.

The ‘Skull Seer’ on his shoulder ripped out a spiral matrix of laser fire carving ritualistic looking marks into a few of the ManRats as Jack turned to look through the crowd. It boomed out next to him, “RatKind! I, your Skull-Seer, visionary of the Apocalypse bring you! I bring you! The BlackJack.” It hissed Jack’s title and it carried through the crowd.”

Jack promised himself righteous murder for whoever called him that once he was out of here. He looked through the great host and caught a small silver-gold furred rat. Jack pointed with his gauntlet hand and giant middle finger at it, then flipped his hand upside down. The rat squeaked in surprise then hopped from ManRat to ManRat onto the stage. Jack briefly dropped to a squat and the small rat climbed onto his shoulder.

He concealed a deep breath as he stood up and raised his voice as loud as he could, it boomed especially loud in the silence.

“Ratkin! I am a ManHuman. I come to bring The End. The End of the vile crab. The End of All.”

‘Black’ ‘Jack’ and ‘Death’ swept and hissed through the crowd.

“Today! We sweep through in a Tide of Blessed Death. I can not die-” Jack had been unbuckling the complicated chest armor and dropped it as he stabbed his sword through his heart and felt it punch out his back, “until we have given death. Who gives shall receive! Give death to Bless your own! All will die! None will survive! Death!”

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‘Death. Death. Death’ echoed through the room, echoing and overlapping as Jack felt his lungs start to vibrate with the sound. This better have been the last speech.

Jack held up a hand and, in the next heartbeat, the room returned to silence.

“We will sweep through every space the crab defies death with its life. Your Commanders have given you orders. Do not stop for anything, I will not be. If you do not fight with me your death will not be Blessed. Do not stop to fight, push and kill and die.”

Jack met every ManRat and rat eye he could. He grinned, it was kind of a shame that he was a doomed messiah and because of that they’d all have to die. Having a ManRat Death-Squad that hated crabs as much as he did sounded like something out of the sweetest dream.

“Death Champion.”

Rattigan turned his full attention to Jack upon hearing his full title. Jack pulled his sword out of his chest and started rebuckling his chest piece back on.

“We will roll over the crabs in a tide. This is the only plan that will work because it is the only plan that is blessed by me. Do you understand?”

Jack stared at the ManRat hard. Rattigan nodded.

“I don’t want the crabs knowing we are there until we are down their throats, I want to kill as many as possible before they figure out what’s going on.”

Rattigan paused a beat then nodded, “Yes BlackJack, this one will have runners deal death to their scouts.”

“No scouts, no warnings, no survivors.”

Rattigan nodded again.

“How have you been dealing with my Blessings?”

“Excellent my BlackJack. This one’s body feels strong. Stronger.” Rattigan gripped its paws into fists and Jack saw the bugling muscles ripple through the ManRat's black cloak. Why hadn’t that happened to him? His new Constitution was nice and his body had definitely filled out more but not like Rattigan. The ManRat was absolutely shredded. It's loose clothing was now tight and at the edge of ripping apart.

Jack spied Jonah entering the room behind his ManRat escort. He was fiddling with a new portable. Of course, like everything else down here, it came in black.

“Good. Find me electricity. We leave now.”

Rattigan grabbed a wire with a stripped section at the end and proffered it with outstretched hand. Jack grabbed it and gorged. Forward, just keep moving Forward.

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The crabs were unsettled, it had been too quiet. The Rats were always quiet but this was different, the silence had been deafening. There were no reports of Rat sightings along its entire front.

Outposts were controlled by Tacticians, the squarish, boxy crabs, roughly 8-9 feet tall with two oversized pincers. None of the roaming patrols had returned. Messenger crabs sent to find and report their findings had not returned. It was too quiet. It had called back all crabs within its sector and sent out several patrols to send a warning to the next nearest outpost. The Master had sent several hybrids to reinforce its position. They were stationed in the makeshift fortress and by each of the entryways, all constructed and reinforced with scrapped steel. In truth, it wasn’t much, but this outpost had been made solely to open another front against the rats.

It should have felt calm, but the unsettling feeling didn’t leave, it grew stronger.

A lone crab, leaking ichor, used its blade pincer to drag itself forward, its missing and broken limbs behind it, entered the outpost command hall through one of its cardinal entrances, up to the set of ManCrabs and swarm of crabs guarding the entrance. It stopped and the ManCrabs warily approached it, chittering out a question.

A sharp bang rang out as ManCrabs and the surrounding swarm was ripped apart in a blast of shell and metal shrapnel.

An attack!

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Jack was first through, he had already been moving when the booby-trapped crab had exploded. A bit too quickly, he felt hot shards of chitin and metal balls drill shallowly into his flesh. He nearly stopped to cut through the surrounding crabs but he had been repeating forward in his mind the entire time and the reminder kept his feet moving.

He kept his pace toward the center where there was some sort of mass of scrap. It was clearly arranged but, he hesitated to call it a fort, or even a structure really. A large gate, if you could call it that, opened from the ‘fort’ and spilled a wave of crabs directly into his path. He deployed his GreatShield and picked up his pace into a sprint and parted the wave of crabs to either side of his shield. He heard RatMen and Rat in his wake, splitting the wave even further apart.

Two mancrabs looked to start closing the gate and spiral shots ripped from angles far above and tore them apart. Jack had no idea what the ManRats were shooting, but to be honest he couldn’t care less, he didn’t use firearms. More mancrabs tried to move toward the door now aware and blocking fire with their pincers. That wasn't easy with the projectile's exotic angles and the force behind them carved deep furrows into the defending claws. Another mancrab dropped from the volley of fire and Jack finally reached the gate.

He blew through it and leapt onto a mancrab, shield first. He pressed down as he landed and kept moving, he hardly noticed the fleshy paste that squeezed out from its orifices.

Jack pounced on another mancrab then swung his sword at another, it clanged off of its pincer. Jack stomped on the mancrab he had just tackled and took a clawblade slice to the outside of his leg. He brought up his shield to parry the slicing claw before slamming his shield into it again. Damn, he missed his Bash Mod. It wasn’t all bad though, he was definitely stronger than these things.

He smiled, time to bully the crap out of it. He rammed his shield into it and pushed it back, it was barely able to keep its feet before a ManRat held a pike against the ground and Jack drove the crab onto it. He grinned at the mad-eyed RatMan and looked around. It was going… well.

He kept scanning, not sure what he was looking for. The fight was almost ov- there.

A giant boxy crab was surrounded by a veritable wall of chitin. ManRat blood was spilled in wide arcs over the ground.

Jack took a few steps before bursting into a sprint and repeating his charge like before, small crabs either burst apart from the shield’s impact or were tossed at the Tactician. He drove electricity into his sword arm as he cleared the wall and jumped up toward the crab, he managed to bash aside the first pincer attack with his shield and sliced down on the other claw’s attack from his other side.

It sliced through the top of its pincer before the crab slammed its deflected pincer back into Jack’s shield and drove him into a painful slide across the metal ground. Jack opened his mouth as a gush of blood poured out, internal bleeding?

No, he just bit his tongue as he rolled to avoid a swarm of crabs that diverted from the swiftly collapsing wall of chitin. Jack had an idea. He reversed his grip on his sword and charged back in. He caught the attacking pincer with his shield and wrestled it into a stalemate as it tried to crush the shield, and failing that, pull him aside and toss him. He felt his feet slowly sliding; it was just edging him out slightly in mass and strength.

Jack finished charging his sword arm drove his blade into the crab’s claw. It flinched back and pulled him out of the way of the half severed pincer aimed at his back. His grip on the sword was clean, he released his shield and used the bonding effect of electricity to keep his fingers on his sword as the crab's flinch swung him around and he and he found himself swordless but on top of the Tactician crab’s square shell.

On either side were two forests of eye-stalks as he scooped a large handful of the stalks and took a few glancing strikes as the crab tried to dislodge him.

Punchblade punchblade punchblade. He shouted it in his mind and he drove his spiked, gauntleted fist into the base of the other set of eye-stalks.

Then, he stood as it flailed, using the eyes as a riding handle as pincer attacks came in hot, wild, and fast.

There was no more advantage here as he tried to snatch his blade, still lodged in the pincer. It took a few attempts but he managed to grab onto the blade and the crab jerked back and pulled on its own eye-stalks. Jack forced the pincer closer through the threat of eye-ripping pain and he finally managed to rip his sword free. It was awkward holding the sword in his right hand with a foreign gauntlet formed thumb and a single oversized finger but he managed to harvest swathes of eyes before slicing into the ones he was holding and being thrown off the top of the crab.

It's attacks were followed with panicked chitters as it attempted to skitter away. Jack ran forward and crippled one of its legs, then another, until it eventually lay twitching atop shattered limbs. Jack approached from the other side of its still viable pincers and carved out a well sized handhold.

He dropped his blade to the ground then reached a hand in the gap and started to pull the two shells apart. It bucked and chitter-screamed but all Jack could hear was his heartbeat in his ears. Thump thump thump. He felt a sucking force try to keep the top and bottom shells together but he ignored it as his back rippled and tightened and tensed as he pulled with greater and greater force. The crab bucked and twitched but his body felt good and his scream mixed with the Tactician’s as a squirch and pop released the two halves of the shell and the release of pressure knocked Jack back a step.