Hey all, I meant to get this out before I moved across the country, but real life got in the way. Anyway, here's the next part in Delidona's story. Enjoy, comments welcome. -Ski

Delidona's Reprieve

Two months of waking dreams and sleeping nightmares were taking their toll on Delidona. Makeup would not cover the bags under her eyes now. Pug, the 'Waster in her squad, had made the offhanded comment that she was trying more and more to look like him. He had run faster then ever to escape the ebon woman's fury, cackling maniacally all the while.

She sat across from Pug now, outside a small deli that catered to Ops only in Central. She was beginning to understand what the 'waster must feel like all the time; exhausted, grouchy and just down right feeling mean.

Around her sat most of her squad as well. Jonas McGiver, the psychotic frother warrior following in the footsteps of his father. Roth, a 313 Stormer, who seemed to enjoy getting up close and personal with the opposition almost as much as Jonas did. Next was Pareva, the squad's token wraith and scout, who shredded napkins out of sheer boredom. Finally, the charismatic and ever photogenic Devon Lowrey, on semi-permanent loan from Third Eye. The only one missing was Blue, the squads APC driver. He had called the meeting, requiring everyone to show up dressed to kill.

She glanced up from her UltraCaf, and looked around. Jonas sat with his eyes closed, head slumped forward, chin resting on the light traditional armor of his clan. Across his kilted knees rested his claymore, a bit too awkward to sit down with it on his back. Roth, dressed in his "light" Stormer Exo, sat mimicking his idol. Every now and then, the Stormer would crack an eye open to make sure Jonas hadn't moved. Roth balanced his custom VibroAxe upon his knees as well. Pareva and Devon both wore Heavy Exo. The wraith always went for high ground in a fight. On the ground by her feet was a case that held both her FEN rifles, AR and 30-30. The camera boy never got his hands bloody, despite his claims of being a Combat Reporter. Pug, dressed similar to her self; Deathsuit covered by a long coat. What sort of nasty surprises the coat hid was anybody's guess.

Devon had been droning on about this and that. Presently he said, "Man, it' s got to be a red, I tell you. Only reason we're here all dressed up. Remember guys, I need some real action. Forget the guns and." Del tuned him out.

She picked up the caf, taking another gulp. It was her fourth since arriving. She needed something to wake her up. As she lowered the cup, she saw him again. Over Pug's shoulder, across the street, he stood. Hands in the pockets of his duster that shrouded his entire body in blackness. He just stood there and stared into her soul.

She was about to kick Pug in the foot and point him out when her view was blocked as a blue and black surplus Battle Taxi rolled up and stopped at the curb. A hatch opened and Blue poked his head up. "Come on, load up. We dust in five!" he screamed above the roar of the engine.

Pareva, happy to be doing something else, was up and moving in an instant. As Pug stood he shouted back, "What the fuck are we doing?" Del fell into step with Jonas as he made his way to the rear of the APC.

"We gotta RED," yelled Blue. "Some jerk-off's tearing through a Shiver station downtown."

Devon, hearing this and thinking of the publicity, scrambled for the Taxi. As Pug entered he flipped on the intercom and asked, "We're driving all the way there? We'll never make it."

"Naw," came Blue's voice. "We's flyin', man. I got us hooked up with a helo that'll take us there. C'mander Cradle wants it taken care of now. I' ll talk as we go. Someone close up that hole!"

Roth reached back and grabbed the handle. He pulled the door shut and thought he heard a yelp as it clanged to. He threw the locking brace and sat down.


The APC rumbled down the street. It left what appeared to be a rather large, bat-headed spider monkey, jumping up and down howling in pain. Skreej quickly stuck his mangled finger into his mouth. He noticed Tes lowering and shaking his head, and felt the disappointment emanate from his brother.

Teserak's head snapped up, a snarl appearing on his face. He got the little one's attention and pointed at the APC as it rounded a corner one block up. Skreej took the hint, pulled his sore finger from his mouth and sped off. If he hurried he could still catch it. Running on all fours could be such a problem when you had a mashed finger.


Within a minute and a half of arriving on site, they had located their target and gotten their asses kicked. They fell back to the APC, a block and a half away, like kicked dogs with their tails between their legs. The clarity in which Delidona could think at the moment was amazing. She had not been this clear-headed in months. All of her senses were tuned to the here and now of the operation.

Blue refused to come out of the 'Taxi. He knew Pug would rip him apart if he did. As it was, Pug was ripping into him over the comm. ".a 'crim with a freaking 'monger and you thought it wasn't important!?! You're an idiot! You should be put to sleep!"

"I got no details, man" Blue yelled back. "Just where it was. I didn't know any of this shit." The sound of the Warmonger drowned out the rest of his defense. The War Criminal was getting closer.

Pareva's voice came to them during a pause in the gunfire. "Move! Now! He 's reloading and about to step around that corner at the end of the block." The squad scattered in every direction. Devon yell into his mic, "Blue, keep him busy till everyone can get to cover!"

"Are you nuts," came the retort. "The only way I can keep 'im busy is t' let 'im shoot holes in me!" Nevertheless, Blue gunned the engine and the 'Taxi sped off toward the very same corner that the 'crim was about to step around.

Jonas and Roth ducked into the tenant building on the corner of the block. They picked their way through the "ground" floor maze of hallways, trying to find an exit that would put them behind the gunman. Devon took shelter behind an extremely large waste dumpster. Pug ran into an alley on the south side of the street with Del right on his heels.

Inside the apartment building, Jonas and Roth found the exit they were looking for. Jonas paused in the hallway, producing a vial of UV and an old fashion syringe. He quickly measured the correct dose and injected it into his arm. He closed his eyes awaiting the rush that was sure to come. Roth keyed his auto-injector, launching a Stormer-sized dose of Blaze UV directly into his carotid artery.

Back in the street, the 'Taxi's engine whined under the exertion that Blue put it under. He chanted his mantra as he sped down the road, "I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna fuckin' DIE!" His target stepped out from around the corner just before he hit the intersection. Blue swerved hard to the left to intercept the 'crim.

"Targets out," came the scouts voice again. Devon rolled around the corner of the dumpster and got his camera up just in time to catch the Battle Taxi smash into the ancient power armor that the War Criminal was wearing.

Blue screamed over the mic as he drove the 'Taxi into the 'crim. The Warmonger was swinging into position as the gunman, assisted by the 'Taxi's momentum, slammed into the duracrete wall of the tenant building.

Two others echoed Blue's scream, as Jonas and Roth tore the door open and rushed to the wrecked Battle Taxi. The frother was screaming as he came around the corner. The white-hot power claymore arched in and slammed into the armor of the pinned gunman. It took all of his strength to keep a hold of the sword as it bounced off the armor, leaving a slight scratch. Through his drug-induced haze, Jonas saw his life pass before his eyes as the Warmonger was leveled at his chest. He brought his claymore about, swinging for the tip of the cannon, screaming his defiance at the war world vet. A power axe appeared out of nowhere, cleanly severing the power cables that attached the Warmonger to the suit and buried itself into the wall, but it was half a heartbeat to slow. The claymore slipped from Jonas's grasp as 14 rounds of alternating HEAP/HESH perforated his chest. What was left of Jonas was spread a good 10 meters behind where he had stood.

A flying claymore caught Roth through a chink on the left side of his armor. The blade hadn't stopped vibrating when it impacted, so it drove itself into the intestines of the big Stormer. Pug appeared atop the 'Taxi in time to see the Warmonger and Roth hit the ground at the same time. His mind worked the complicated equations needed for his next move.

Del stepped out of the alley that she had been hiding in and lifted her hands toward the front of the wrecked 'Taxi. She too started her calculations needed to freeze the 'crim where he stood. Devon, seeing the two ebb hurlers prepare for their coup de grace, screamed over the mic at Blue. "Move the 'pc! They're gonna fry him!"

The 'Taxi lurched backwards as best as its three remaining wheels could manage. The 'crim started to slump forward when a freezing blast hit him in the right side of the helmet. The helmet turned to the right, seeking out the ebon woman, and froze in place just as the War Crim's target was sighted.

The crack of a FEN 30-30 was a welcome sound as Del closed her hands, cutting off the flux from the glacial ebb. Perva jacked the bolt of the 30-30 back ejecting the spend shell. The modifications that she had had done to her rifle paid off and as she slammed the bolt forward and down, another round was chambered from the five shot, detachable magazine. She sighted in on the dent her first shot had made in iced over helmet of the vet's armor. Kissing the round on its way, she jacked in her third round, a HEAP and held her breath as she squeezed the set trigger. Click. Exhaling slowly, Perva squeezed the remaining trigger.

The 8mm HEAP round impacted in the same place the first two did and ripped a small hole in the super cooled helmet. Hearing the third shot, Pug took two steps forward on the APC and raised his hands. Long gouts of flame leapt from his fingertips and engulfed the armor's upper torso and helmet. He let his rage flow freely through him and the flames responded, becoming so intense he had to close his eyes or risk going blind.

Delidona had never seen something so beautiful come from someone so twisted. She had known that Pug was an extremely powerful 'Waster, but had never seen how much so. She watched the flames, licking at the War Crim, seeking out a way inside, change from orange to blue, and then to white as the 'Waster pushed himself. She gasped at the brilliance of the flame and averted her eyes.

When she looked back, the gout of flame had become an enormous white wall. Her surroundings had all faded to blackness. A figure stepped out of the flames and locked gazes with her. It was the same Brain Waster from her nightmares and daydreams. A half-cocked grin caressed his face as raised a hand and beckoned to her. He faded back into the white light, and Delidona hesitated, torn between following him and tending her squad.

Her vision blurred then, and she found herself on hands and knees, with her head resting against the sidewalk. The dizziness passed and her breathing returned to normal. She looked up in time to see the 'Taxi slam the charred armor back into the wall. It stopped moving after the third slam.

"You all right?" whispered Devon from behind her. "Fine," was her terse reply. Devon switched off the camera as she started to sob.


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