Little Celah, Tseludia Station, Pantheonic Territory, Sixthmonth, 1634 PTS

Fortunately for Juen, his words did not fall on deaf ears. While the Supreme Elder was disappointed in the outcome of his attack on the Redwater Sect, he still saw value in Juen, it seemed. Against his will, Keitel had been ordered to assist Juen in his task, and help to preserve his life if the situation became poor.

Juen had also wished to receive the assistance of First Commander Pakas, but unfortunately his assignment to the ongoing border conflict was extremely firm. He would have to make do with his own talents, as well as those he could actually lay his hands on. After all, he was going with a sizable force. Aside from Juen and Keitel, roughly ten martial artists from the clan had also been sent. In addition, Juen had hired twenty mercenaries from a reputable group to bolster their numbers. This was a dangerous task, and he was not foolish enough to disregard the utility of ranged weapons as some did.

Every detail, every plan, every person he could send along that he felt would bolster his chances of both success and survival were thought out at length and chosen carefully. Though Pakas would not be able to come, he had spoken with the man, and the two had worked together to hash out a strategy that Juen felt was optimal, or at least close to it.

There were three core components to the plan.

The first was the entry. The factories were deep inside of Celan territory, and the presence of martial artists would be all too obvious to the residents. For this reason, all they could do was arrive as near as possible to the first target using an aero.

The problem was that they knew the Celans would be watching the skydocks for just this reason, wary after what had happened just a week prior. The aliens were not fools, and Juen knew that their leaders were the type to prepare tricks and countermeasures to use against their opponent at any and every opportunity.

The first target that they had was the Akher plant, because they believed it to be the most likely of the targets to actually have Celan connections. It was roughly at the middle of the stack, and not actually conveniently located for charging down the flights of stairs from the aero before the Celans were alarmed and reinforcements sent.

While he was confident that they would be able to destroy the facility regardless of this issue, Juen knew that there was a serious risk of the other facilities on the list receiving more guards as a result, and rendering those parts of the mission a failure. If possible, he wished to succeed at handling all three.

Fortunately, he and Pakas had developed a bold solution that they believed might be effective. They would simply leap off of the aero from midair, and land on one of the bridges near to the factory. In theory, Juen and Keitel’s momentum devouring mists should be enough to arrest the downward momentum of all the martial artists they were bringing, though the mercenaries would need to find their own method.

Once the plan was finalized, and the troops ready, Juen decided that there was no time better than the present. He doubted he would suddenly find more troops, nor would his physical condition be getting any better. If he was being forced to go on this glorified suicide mission, it was best to do so as swiftly as possible, and minimize the risk of unforeseen developments.

Before heading out, Juen had taken a strong dose of painkillers, powerful enough to affect even a body as powerful as his for hours. He would still need to closely manage his energies so as not to let it run rampant, but the lack of pain certainly helped with Juen’s ability to maintain his focus.

He would need that focus for what came next.

As Juen slid the aero’s door open, he felt a rush of apprehension fill him, well aware of the sheer risk and stupidity that this act represented. If he did not wholly believe that this was the method with the highest odds of success, Juen would have never chosen to do it.

He took a deep breath, glancing down at the alien borough beneath him, and released the aero’s sliding door to fall from it.

Juen toppled through the air, before righting himself, his balance perfect, as one would expect of anyone at his realm. The weaker martial artists were not so lucky, but Juen was confident in his abilities.

Miasma roiled within him, but Juen kept a firm grip on his cycling despite his tenseness, and for the time being, the sanguine miasma remained relegated to his cerebral region. As the momentum devouring mist was a lower core technique, the meridians its use focused on were sufficiently far enough away to not cause any problem, and the vibrant green mist which spun out and around him emerged wholly untainted by any evidence of his unorthodox situation.

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For now, he thought, nobody would know the truth.

Moments later, Juen slammed into the bridge, rolling and rising to his feet as if he had fallen a mere ten feet down, but secretly winced. For a moment, he nearly lost control of his internal battle before managing to recover, his technique still active. Moments later, the martial artists assigned to follow him tumbled behind, crashing down to receive minor scrapes and bruises as they haphazardly made impact with the bridge. The mist had slowed them, but it had its limits, and many lacked the balance and core strengths required to minimize the damage fully as he had.

With a glance to the side, Juen realized that few of the group following Keitel had managed perfect landings as well, including, to no surprise from him, Keitel himself, who had landed roughly five meters away on the other end of the bridge. Despite all odds, Juen thought, they had succeeded with the first step of the plan. Now all he needed to do was to find the first of the factories, which should be extremely nearby.

At first glance, the factory was unobtrusive, its facade undecorated and unmarked except for a small sign above the entry hatch which proclaimed its ownership. Juen almost passed it after his arrival, and had to double check the map on his terminal to make sure that he was in the right place. Inside, he could sense the souls of a small number of workers, numbering roughly twenty in total.

Doubting that the building’s inhabitants would willingly open the door for them, Juen glanced over to Keitel, and motioned to the door. Keitel gave him a blank look, before realizing what he was being asked to do.

Raising his fists aloft, Keitel quickly slammed them down on the hatch with all the force his genesis-enhanced physique could muster, tearing a huge rent into the metal frame. With a second, the hole expanded, and with a third blow the hatch fell from its frame, toppling inside with a loud clunk and the screams of the building’s inhabitants.

Juen frowned, feeling somewhat like a hoodlum as he stepped through the aperture and into the factory, flanked by his subordinates. He glanced around, spotting terrified workers, as well as large industrial equipment which spat out gouts of orange smoke. It was chaos incarnate, a flickering tangerine force which ran counter to Juen’s aesthetic tastes. He glanced back to his force.

“We don’t have much time. Kill them all and plant the explosives, and then let’s move on to the next one,” he said.

The others nodded, while Keitel had already charged in, a wide smile on his face as he cut down a screaming Korlove. Juen watched him with disdain. It was understandable to derive enjoyment from the slaying of enemies, but Keitel was being overzealous in a way that only a coward could be when facing someone with no ability to fight back. In his mind, this was not like what had happened at the sect. This battle was not one ordained by the divine, merely a conflict between mortal forces over asinine justifications.

Juen had few qualms about slaying aliens, but he could not bring himself to truly relish it, not when it was the slaughter of civilians. They were not even certain that this factory worked for the Celans. It was likely, but the certainty was lacking. It was simply a matter of the clan being in a poor position, and grasping at straws for ways to inhibit their opponent’s assembly line.

As he walked around the rooms, Juen carefully inspected the work of his subordinates, who seemed far too excited about the matter. Like lesser versions of Keitel, they were merciless and efficient, and the work progressed rapidly. Inside his body, Juen’s meridians remained a mire of chaos, and part of his attention was constantly split as he kept track of them. It was tiring, a waste of his mental energy, but Juen was no stranger to weariness. Still, he knew how to be prudent, when necessary, at least better than some clan members did, he thought.

This was why he had yet to take action himself. Juen would not use any of his techniques unless it was strictly necessary, preferring to rely on his subordinates to handle the dirty work this time. The defenses here were paltry, he thought. It only held a small number of Celan soldiers, with no enforcers defending. Even if it were only Juen and Keitel, this mission would have been trivial.

Either this factory was unimportant, or they had felt the need to position their forces elsewhere. Juen hoped that ‘somewhere else’ did not mean the other two factories. The odds were low, but worthy of consideration, not that he would be able to do anything about them.

That part of the mission finished quickly. The few employees and soldiers were slain without Juen himself needing to take action, to his pleasant surprise, and the bombs were promptly planted by the demolition experts.

Next, he thought, glancing at the screen of his terminal, was Sedot, a privately owned factory that produced mechanical parts for other Celan companies. With their new goal in mind, the force quickly made their way over, sprinting towards the other location to avoid reinforcements. Just like he had at the previous factory, Keitel slammed his way through the hatch with a thunderous blow, clearing the way for himself and the troops to enter and plant the explosives.

That was when everything went to shit.

The Hadal Clan and the Underworld: [Unlike most underworld organizations, not much that the clan itself does is actually illegal, aside from some of the corruption and bribery, as well as conflict with other organizations. In fact, what to most other underworld hegemons of Tseludia is the legal front organization, for the clan is their true self. By accepting ‘donations’ from gangs operating within their territory, funds from technology smuggling, racketeering, life form trading, and other illegal industries are still able to fund the clan, without forcing its members to get their hands dirty. This is doubly so for the main branch of the family, many of whose members have broken even fewer laws in their lifetime than the average Tseludian resident. Of course, this current state of events was not true in the past, when ‘Jade Empress of Pain’ Sirena Hadal carved out the clan’s place in the station by force.]