• Nobles of Null is a forum based roleplay site where sci-fi and magic collide. Here, Earth remains fractured and divided despite humanity reaching out to the stars. Worse still, the trans-human slaves of one major power have escaped, only to establish their own Empire, seething with resentment at abuses of the past. Even the discovery of aliens, though medieval in development, has failed to rally these squabbling children of Earth together with its far darker implications. Worse still, is the discovery of the impossible - magic. Practiced by the alien locals, nearly depleted and therefore rare, its reality warping abilities remains abstract and distant to the general populace. All the while, unseen in the darkness of space, forces from without threaten to press in. For those with eyes opened by insight, it is clear that an era is about to end, and that a new age will dawn.

Chapter 4: Stalin Rain

"Yes, because you're doing a good job defending it," Renee snapped back , before noticing the concern in Toybob's expression as he talked about Froststorm. She frowned slightly, more internally, but the apprehension was apparent on her face nonetheless. "He needs self control. We've all lost people," Renee said, in a strange attempt to empathise with Toybob's frustration at his soldier.

As Toybob's cold demeanour returned, so did Renee's. It dissipated somewhat when she spotted Caleb, and she shifted her position as if to greet him. "They are fine," she said curtly, eyes flicking towards Toybob as if to indicate to Caleb that she was having some degree of difficulty in dealing with the Soyuz soldier.
 
Caleb noticed the look that renee gave him, and quickly read the situation. Toybob was likely set as a shadow for Renee, Shephard was his, but he had managed to shake the tail abut an hour before. He was likely at a security terminal staring at camera feeds looking for him.

"You know, following around injured soldiers seems like wasted time and effort. Time that would be better spent interrogating prisoners, rather than laying about doing nothing. Could be following one of the soldiers that would be more likely to cause trouble. Lost my tail a while ago. Personally." Caleb shrugged adn smiled at Renee.
 
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"By your own commander's orders, we won't begin interrogation until..." Toybob looked at his watch, ignoring Renee's jab, her implication of their incompetence. "... 22 hours, after you've received sufficient rest. Our own interrogation of the prisoners until occur after your turn. We will be resting in the meantime." He flatly explained.

"In the meantime, I have no one else to follow other than Copperhead, and now you, Sidewinder, since you are the only two who refuse to stay in one place." Toybob commented with some annoyance.

"Ye---, ---- fine, ---------- sights ------." He distanced his mouth away from the translator, replying into his earpiece, presumably Shephard. Turning back to them, he offered with a sigh. "Look, how about we just go into the kitchen. Your commander's there, and we can just talk."
 
A few hours later, the rest of Task Force 52 would've returned: Billhook, Froststorm, and Groundhog, their winter suits covered in ash and dust. Following behind them was a small, feminine, hooded figure, under a cloak that was difficult to look at, as "she" continued to project images behind her. Whether it was the real Mari or not, it was difficult to tell, as "she" quickly and robotically drifted into an empty room, server stacks, processors, and monitors quickly thrown down and powered up by a small army of droids that accompanied "her". Of course, a liquid mattress and a healthy stash of soft drinks and bagged snacks quickly followed, and the door slammed shut.

All of the Task Force, all but Froststorm, hit the showers. He stayed leery, watching the Lancers under his mask and goggles with both caution and disdain. It wasn't until his teammates popped out fully clothed did he go clean himself up.

---24 hours after Omnigrow Raid---

232 civilians dead, 431 injured, 56 missing were the new tallies of the damages caused by the new terrorist act. There were worse news yet. The communication delays have made it difficult to confirm, but the Commonwealth Space Command (CSC) looked to be mobilizing. Reports of engine plumes spotted, flotillas burning towards Soyuz assets were thus far the most solid, but there were even reports that the European and Middle Eastern regions on Earth were now hot with live fire.

Eberhard tried to maintain calm as he watched the interrogation room from the HQ's central command room. The Lancers were in potentially enemy territory now, still using their assets. It was unclear how the GDW flotilla here was going to respond. According to Ulrike, the admiral was talking to local command, so at least cooler heads were prevailing here, for the moment. Still, the Task Force was even more on edge now. Behind him stood Billhook, crossing his arms, calm and resolute as usual, but a holstered pistol strapped to his belt. Eberhard himself had iron within reach as well, just in case shit hit the fan.

Thanks to Mari's hard work, some key information was obtained from the Omnigrow servers. Before the exodus, the three GDW corporations in Chekhovsk: Omnigrow, Stellar Winds, and Jovian Sciences, were regularly shipping in narcotics under the guise of research and business transactions. There also was a frequent communication with something in deep space, although they were doing most of the receiving and only rarely sent any messages out. The contents of these messages, and where they went to, were unfortunately scrubbed clean.

However, the personal ID's of the Lancer's three prisoners were easy enough to obtain, full psychological assessments, their hobbies, family history, everything. One especially seemed susceptible to interrogation: Julius Aubert, French and Arabic descent, hailing from one of the hundreds of colonies in the Jovian system, now sitting in the interrogation room alone.

"Bee, Jamison, you're up." Eberhard announced through the comms. The Lancers were standing outside, looking at the man through a one-way glass window. He looked to be a man in his forties or fifties, still healthy, pale and tall, typical for space-born. His eyes stared into the distance, blood shot, his mouth somewhat open. Next to the Lancers stood Shephard and Toybob in simple attire, each with a cup of coffee in one hand... and pistols holstered on their belts.
 
Jamison looked at the door and sighed internaly. He knew he was a big intimidating person and it's not like this was the first time he had roughed something out of someone. At least this time he was doing it in an actual room instead of a back alley with a tire iron and glass shards. Taking the lead Jamison fit himself through the door, his armor fitting through the door without touching the frame. Taking his first look at the person he was ordered to interogate he thought that this would either be mind breakingly difficult or very simple. Moving his opaqued helmet pointedly to look around the room he took note of the three metal chairs and metal table, not much to work with but he had dealt with less before. On the other hand, being intimidating takes a lot of effort if you want it to be effective while his size did help he had a few other things set up to assist with the effect of scary person who will break you in half. He had borrowed an oversized combat blade which sat very obviously at his hip, his pistol sat on the opposite side of his belt where it would be easy to spot next to the partial exosuit arm that looked espcialy shiny (Minus the fake blood that covered the fist and splatered a bit on the armor plating, then there was the less noticable parts. His breathing was amplified by his helmet and speakers, he had lossened his exosuits leg plating so they clinked with each step and had added some fake markings to his armor like bullet craters, knife cuts and other battle damage that would never actualy happen.

He took one of the chairs and decided to make a small modification before taking a seat. The aluminum arm rests didn't have much of a chance against the exosuits electronic strength and once the two protrusions were out of his way he took a seat at the table and looked down at his task. Starting off with a tone of bored repition he spoke, "Greetings Julius Aubert, You will answer my associates questions truthfully and completely so I won't have to spend the next two hours breaking every individual bone in your body." The faceless mask turned to said associate and waited for the questions to start, his bloody hand placed on the table in clear view.
 
We must make a comical sight, Beatrix thought as she took her seat. I look like a dwarf next to Jami in his power armor. Oh well, turn on the charm, let him know where he stands, well, sits, and see what we can get out of him.

"Hello Mr. Aubert," she said, smiling as she sat her datapad on the table. "Like my larger associate, I would advise answering the questions. And if you're not worried about your bones, just imagine what the Russians will do to you when you're being obstinate. Now," she continued, tapping her datapad to pull up a notes app, "Let's start with your company's lockdown. What was the reasoning behind that?"
 
Mr. Aubert's eyes widened at the threat of grave harm upon him. For a moment, his empty, staring eyes showed light again, shifting their focus at first to Jamison, then to Beatrix. They were bloodshot, tired.

He stammered, one finger nervously tapping the table as the man came alive again, an old computer whirling to life after percussive maintenance. Finally, the thin man spoke up. "We were ordered to refuse all contact in preparation for the bombing of all possible diplomatic sites in Chekhovsk." He replied robotically, then continued with a request. "Water, please."
 
Hmm, don't see why not, since he's being so straight forward, Bee thought with a shrug, before getting up to get a cup from the water cooler in the corner. "Alright, so let's pull that thread. What was the point? Was the plan to get out before the bombs went off and something went wrong or what?"
 
Jamison continued to sit there, like some imposing murder machine. On the inside however he was really starting to regret the stunt with the chair as his arm started flaring up and the jagged edges were definetly not fun to sit on. But like with most situations he grit his teeth and was thankful for the puncture resistance of his suit as well as the exosuit arm that made sure his didn't fall limp at an angle reserved for squares or triangles.
 
Mr. Aubert shook his head, taking a drink from the flimsy paper cup, biodegradable, hardly any structural strength to it. The cooler was kept behind a wall as well, unaccessible, unexploitable. He eyed Beatrix and Jamison tiredly, but there was also thought. After a few seconds of pause, a conclusion came to his eyes, and he looked down. The large guy would probably beat him into a bloody pulp before he could even touch the smaller interrogater here.

"No, escape would've been ideal, but not a primary objective after the explosions occured. Omnigrow personnel who were willing to stay behind to see the mission through knew they would eventually be arrested or killed. Any unwilling Omnigrow personnel were... mercifully removed from their misery." The scientist explained coldly. "In retrospect, knowing that you would've used non-lethal tactics, we should've just shot ourselves. That was a grave error on our end."
 
Guess we'll keep adding to the death count, Bee thought with a mental sigh. "We like having as much information available," she said. "What was the goal behind the bombing anyway? Were you trying to start a war or something?"
 
"... Yes." Mr. Aubert replied bluntly after some thought. "For two centuries, the Commonwealth has grown complacent, allowing evil to spread across the stars." He explained with a calm, but more defiant tone. "The Soyuz, then the PRC, before they were replaced by an even greater evil that the Commonwealth, for all its technological might and industrial power, failed to address. It would've only been a matter of time before they forced the Commonwealth's hand." He then turned around and asked Beatrix and Jamison a question. "How is the war going, by the way? If there any good left in the Commonwealth it would've mobilized against the Soyuz by now."
 
žana was now still in bed just resting and listening for occasional chit chats and all but not paying much attention anyways. at least the bed fit her body so it was ok. hope they know how to operate a snake.
 
Guess the question is whether to just let him know where things stand or keep him in the dark, Bee thought. Ehh, more options for later if we leave him in the dark. "Never mind about the war," she said, waving away his question. "What we want to know is who was ultimately behind the decision of the bombing and where did the other two companies go?"
 
Mr. Aubert shrugged at the first question, eyeing Beatrix, but mostly Jamison, cautiously. He was hesitant to answer, a face of dismay with his own question unattended to. Finally, after a nervous sip of his drink, he spoke up. "The bombings were our own decisions. Diplomacy has failed. The cries of the people gone unanswered as evil continues to flourish amongst the stars. This world needed martyrs to create change. Our lives will be a small price to pay, in exchange for the greater good. I only hope that the Commonwealth sees the light now, willingly or not." He paused again, then continued with a more defiant tone.

"I knew what I signed up for." He became more restless, picking up his drink, taking a heavy gulp, looking at Beatrix straight in the eyes. "I've admitted to what we've done and why." Mr. Aubert's eyes then darted back to Jamison. He was shivering visibly now, his voice breaking up, fighting to remain resolute. "Y-you can break my body, but I won't betray my comrades."
 
Jamison took one look at the man and sighed loudly. "There goes my afternoon." Since the table was between him and his current task the hulk of a man flipped it to the side letting it slam into the wall as he advanced on his target. "You know I was kinda hoping you'd resist." He said this as he grabbed the man by his collar and continued moving forward. Lifting the man was like lifting a half full bag of flour for his unassisted hand but as the brute slammed the man into the wall Jamison found he could manage the weight. The first bone he broke was the right femur a simple punch with the limb pressed against the concrete wound be enough even without the exosuits assitance. Behind the mask Jamison was following his age old mantra, 'If you make a threat you have to follow through.' he took no pleasure from the act itself though the man definetly deserved it. "One down. two hundred and five to go." He cocked back his fist and his speakers played the sound of knuckles cracking as his tighted his fist.
 
"GAAAHH! SON OF A!" Mr. Aubert cried out in agony, cursing in every language he knew, from Commonwealth Common to French to Arabic. His hands trembled as they gripped onto Jamison's forearm, the rest of his body hanging limp, held up by the brute. The man was tearing up and sobbing, ignoring Jamison's demand.
 
Bee sighed, having barely saved her datapad from the table flip. "Mr. Aubert, now that you know we're not kidding around," she said, standing up and walking over to the struggling captive, "Please, answer the question. Where are the other two companies?"
 
The man was sniffling, nearly irreconcilable. His prisoner jumpsuit hid the internal bleeding that was now underway where his bone was broken. "S-Soroka," His lips quivered, sputtering out the barren planet's name. "Stellar Winds went to somewhere on Soroka."

Eberhard took a breath as he watched the live feed from the command room. Billhook's expression was stoney in comparison. The German was no stranger to violence, but seeing an unarmed man brutalized was still hard to watch, even now. Perhaps it was the lack of adrenaline that gave him more sympathy right now, as he tapped his comms. "Bee, Castle, good work. Get him into the infirmary and give him two hours. Sidewinder, Copperhead, get ready to swap in for further interrogation. We still need to know how they bypassed Soyuz defenses."

He then stood up to Billhook, switching comms to Mari. "We'll need all comms that came from Soroka, see if we can trace the remnant signal we got back to it, narrow down a location."

Billhook replied simply, his arms crossed as the two men stared each other down. "Of course."
 
"I'll get to it when I get to it," Mari responded, her tone shorter than normal as she busied herself with connecting things to other things in important ways so she could do the things she was sent there to do. "Once my setup here is complete, I can start pulling results from our forensics system. I expect to have a location then."
 
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