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Location Unknown - November 12, 1999
Nov. 20th, 2012 08:35 pmThe Black Hand are the finest soldiers the Brotherhood has to offer - indeed, the finest the world has to offer. Plucked from the most hellish war zones on the planet, subjected to grueling training with thousands of years of military experience and doctrine behind it, and equipped with the latest in bleeding-edge military technology, they were a match for almost anything, including enemies many times their own number. Yet there is no amount of training or experience which can prepare you for a combat situation quite like walking through a barroom door and finding a sprawling alien metropolis on the other side.
The Black Hands are standing on an a metal platform suspended roughly ten feet above a cracked and barren surface. Looming, hideous techno-organic towers twist and lurch above them at angles obscene to nature, their pinnacles disappearing above a sickly green haze. The canyons between them are abuzz with winged insectoids, which flitter and dart between them, though even they are miles above the surface.
For a moment, the soldiers stand completely still, laser rifles drawn. Brother Harris is the first to break the silence.
"Where the hell are we?"
"I don't know," says Brother-Captain Alvarez. "But wherever it is, Freeman isn't here."
The captain turns to his techical sergeant. "Zweber, give me a readout on these surroundings. See what you can find out."
Zweber flips open a panel on his wrist and examines the readout. Slowly, he shakes his head. "Well, to get the obvious out of the way, the GPS is blank, so we're nowhere near Earth. I'm also picking up very strong tiberium readings in every direction, including straight up and straight down. At these levels, if we don't find a way off planet, we'll be dead in two hours."
He squints again at the readout. "Just a moment, I'm picking up a..."
A thunderous rumbling fills the air. And then another, and another. They are growing louder.
Wordlessly, the captain signals them to activate their stealth fields. The soldiers vanish from sight.
Slowly, the source of the sound moves into view - a three-legged biomechanical monstrosity. It is huge - at least twenty feet tall at what passes for the withers. There is a large, milky blue parody of an eye at the center of its not-head, and above it extend three tentacles, the tips of which glow with electrified purple energy. Whatever it is, it is clearly a beast of war.
The soldiers neither move nor make a sound as it walks across the canyon floor. And then it stops. And turns. And lowers its tentacles.
It can see them.
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Technical Sergeant Zweber peeks around what passes for a corner in this place. The tripod is no more than a dozen feet away, scanning the environment in front of it. Fortunately, he is behind it. But he knows this won't help him for long.
He takes a long look at the tripod's spindly legs and turns his head back toward the only other Black Hand still alive.
"Brother," he whispers. "Do you still have some C4 left?"
"Yes, sir," the younger soldier says.
No further words are necessary. They know what their only option is.
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The tripod falls to the ground with a graceless thud as Zweber dives out of the way of its thrashing energy blasts. The beasts tentacles continue to thrash and fire for a few seconds before falling silent as its glowing tips fade away.
Slowly, Zweber gets up - only to see the younger soldier atop the corpse, hacking at a still-glowing blue globule beneath the creature's torso-head with his cutting laser.
"What the hell are you doing, Marko?"
"Kane wanted us to bring back alien biotech," he says. "And that's exactly what I intend to do."
"We have to survive first in order to get to that point. We don't need to be carrying any more dead weight."
"With all due respect, sir, I'm not coming back to the prophet empty-handed. I'd sooner not come back at all."
Zweber nods. "Very well. Take it and claim it for the Brotherhood."
As Marko finally separates the globe from its body, the sound of hundreds of footfalls rattles the ground around them.
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Marko has done his best. They all have. But now he is the only one left. And even that won't last long.
He knows where they are. They know where he is. And his only escape route is across hundreds of yards of open ground. To attempt it would be suicide even if he weren't cradling an alien spheroid in one arm. But sometimes, suicide is the only option.
He inhales deeply, knowing it will be the last breath he will ever take.
"For Kane!"
When he stumbles around the corner, he finds himself no longer where he was...
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The young soldier awakens in a familiar place. The lighting and the atmosphere of the medical wing of Temple Prime are unmistakable.
He is somewhat more surprised to find the Prophet himself leaning over him.
Kane smiles. "Brother Marko Slavik," he says. "Good to have you back among the living. The doctors tell me you had quite a serious case of tiberium poisoning."
Brother Slavik blinks, still woozy. "But, I...how did we...?"
"No need for words, my son," the Prophet says. "We can debrief you later - I'm sure you have much to tell us. The technology that you have brought back with you will prove more valuable than you can possibly imagine."
Indeed - Kane had been surprised and delighted once he realized where it must have come from.
"I...I'm glad to hear of it, Your Eminence. They slaughtered us for this."
Kane nods solemnly and clasps Brother Slavik's shoulder. "You have done well, my son. Your brothers have not died in vain. And rest assured, your service will be rewarded. But for now, you must rest."
"Th...thank you, Your Eminence."
Kane bows his head slightly lower, still smiling. "No, my son. Thank you."
The Black Hands are standing on an a metal platform suspended roughly ten feet above a cracked and barren surface. Looming, hideous techno-organic towers twist and lurch above them at angles obscene to nature, their pinnacles disappearing above a sickly green haze. The canyons between them are abuzz with winged insectoids, which flitter and dart between them, though even they are miles above the surface.
For a moment, the soldiers stand completely still, laser rifles drawn. Brother Harris is the first to break the silence.
"Where the hell are we?"
"I don't know," says Brother-Captain Alvarez. "But wherever it is, Freeman isn't here."
The captain turns to his techical sergeant. "Zweber, give me a readout on these surroundings. See what you can find out."
Zweber flips open a panel on his wrist and examines the readout. Slowly, he shakes his head. "Well, to get the obvious out of the way, the GPS is blank, so we're nowhere near Earth. I'm also picking up very strong tiberium readings in every direction, including straight up and straight down. At these levels, if we don't find a way off planet, we'll be dead in two hours."
He squints again at the readout. "Just a moment, I'm picking up a..."
A thunderous rumbling fills the air. And then another, and another. They are growing louder.
Wordlessly, the captain signals them to activate their stealth fields. The soldiers vanish from sight.
Slowly, the source of the sound moves into view - a three-legged biomechanical monstrosity. It is huge - at least twenty feet tall at what passes for the withers. There is a large, milky blue parody of an eye at the center of its not-head, and above it extend three tentacles, the tips of which glow with electrified purple energy. Whatever it is, it is clearly a beast of war.
The soldiers neither move nor make a sound as it walks across the canyon floor. And then it stops. And turns. And lowers its tentacles.
It can see them.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Technical Sergeant Zweber peeks around what passes for a corner in this place. The tripod is no more than a dozen feet away, scanning the environment in front of it. Fortunately, he is behind it. But he knows this won't help him for long.
He takes a long look at the tripod's spindly legs and turns his head back toward the only other Black Hand still alive.
"Brother," he whispers. "Do you still have some C4 left?"
"Yes, sir," the younger soldier says.
No further words are necessary. They know what their only option is.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The tripod falls to the ground with a graceless thud as Zweber dives out of the way of its thrashing energy blasts. The beasts tentacles continue to thrash and fire for a few seconds before falling silent as its glowing tips fade away.
Slowly, Zweber gets up - only to see the younger soldier atop the corpse, hacking at a still-glowing blue globule beneath the creature's torso-head with his cutting laser.
"What the hell are you doing, Marko?"
"Kane wanted us to bring back alien biotech," he says. "And that's exactly what I intend to do."
"We have to survive first in order to get to that point. We don't need to be carrying any more dead weight."
"With all due respect, sir, I'm not coming back to the prophet empty-handed. I'd sooner not come back at all."
Zweber nods. "Very well. Take it and claim it for the Brotherhood."
As Marko finally separates the globe from its body, the sound of hundreds of footfalls rattles the ground around them.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marko has done his best. They all have. But now he is the only one left. And even that won't last long.
He knows where they are. They know where he is. And his only escape route is across hundreds of yards of open ground. To attempt it would be suicide even if he weren't cradling an alien spheroid in one arm. But sometimes, suicide is the only option.
He inhales deeply, knowing it will be the last breath he will ever take.
"For Kane!"
When he stumbles around the corner, he finds himself no longer where he was...
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The young soldier awakens in a familiar place. The lighting and the atmosphere of the medical wing of Temple Prime are unmistakable.
He is somewhat more surprised to find the Prophet himself leaning over him.
Kane smiles. "Brother Marko Slavik," he says. "Good to have you back among the living. The doctors tell me you had quite a serious case of tiberium poisoning."
Brother Slavik blinks, still woozy. "But, I...how did we...?"
"No need for words, my son," the Prophet says. "We can debrief you later - I'm sure you have much to tell us. The technology that you have brought back with you will prove more valuable than you can possibly imagine."
Indeed - Kane had been surprised and delighted once he realized where it must have come from.
"I...I'm glad to hear of it, Your Eminence. They slaughtered us for this."
Kane nods solemnly and clasps Brother Slavik's shoulder. "You have done well, my son. Your brothers have not died in vain. And rest assured, your service will be rewarded. But for now, you must rest."
"Th...thank you, Your Eminence."
Kane bows his head slightly lower, still smiling. "No, my son. Thank you."
