All Who Wander...

[Julius Sedaire]

The hospital was beyond full as Quintus stumbled out, leaning against it. Sounds blared in his head, and though he had scrubbed out from surgery, he could still feel the blood and gore on them, no matter that he had been wearing gloves. In his mind, he still saw red covering his hands, viscera and gore dripped across them. He craned his head back, exhaling into the night air with a ragged shuddering breath heavy with pain and carrying the edge-bite of regret. Sometimes there were good days, and other times the days were less. Today he had lost more than he had saved. The weight bore down on him heavily.

Fumbling a bit in his pocket, he drew out a death-stick and lit the stick with shuddering hands, the flame wavering in an unsteady grasp. As the harsh smoke drew down into his lungs, he exhaled through his nose, twin jets of caustic chemicals that numbed his mind and the damnable feelings that crawled across with the memories. Faces became less distinct and the pain drained as he closed his eyes to the velvet of the night.

For weeks, maybe months, he had been having unavoidable nightmares that brought him out of sleep screaming, drenched in sweat. Paranoia had sparked and flamed like wild as well. In his youth, the red-head had often had such episodes, but he couldn't recall where or how they had started. They just had always been, since he could remember. His adoptive parents had told him that his doctors had said they were fragmented memories of the time before whatever had taken his childhood and wiped it blank.

A prickling ran up the back of his neck, and his head snapped forward, eyes piercing and seeking through the darkness, sure someone was there.

[member="Ardgal Raxis"]

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

"He's not moving, he hasn't moved in hours," Virgil's voice came through Ardgal's helmet like a disembodied ghost. She was on the opposite ridge, Ardgal could see her transponder on the minimap if he looked, but he didn't need to. They were like two peas in a pod, two parts of the same machine. She was the second half to his operation, she had seen him in his good days, and his days of insanity and still never left. "He's running behind schedule."

Ardgal could hear her shift as he lay waiting, watching the life forms in the hospital bellow move like white glowing lights. His Havoc carbine lay by his side set to stun. He wasn't expecting any trouble, but it never hurt to be prepared for the worst that could happen. Besides, this was an operation, even if it didn't pay and it was a capture only. "We will get him, don't worry. We need to just make sure that the rest of this goes on schedule too."

"He needs to hurry up, I have to piss and we don't have all night," she muttered. "This kid better be worth his salt. Or I say we slot him."

Ardgal shook his head. Her fire was sometimes too much. "He will be."

"He's on the move," She said suddenly. "Towards your position. Now's the time."

Ardgal gripped his rifle, pulling himself off the ground. The covering of dirt and grass that he had formed to cover his tale-tell armor slid off in clumps as the warrior stalked closer and closer. It wasn't that he was necessarily worried about what this target, Quintus would do, he was more worried about what any one else who wanted him would do. The cyborg was a high dollar mercenary, usually one sent when the only real option was destroy everything in the path, and an army was required. He could only imagine what other entities could possibly be involved.

Slowly his black and red armor would come into view, the man's white helmet covered his face in a calculating, emotionless expression. His force dead signature would give off no real key to his identity or possible emotion. Not that Ardgal felt any to speak of.

"Eyes on you both, you're clear."

"Been a hard night," Ardgal said, giving a nod. The warrior had been excellent at social pleasantries one time, but having your soul stolen from you and your mind meddled with by cyborg bits tended to mess with those kinds of things. "Ardgal, Ardgal Raxis," He didn't really see a reason to cut around the pleasantries or really much of anything, "I was sent by clan Mereel to bring you back home."

[member="Pashki Tsering"]