Blood On The Ice

Northern Canada. A part of the country that was normally cold and frigid all year around. From a distance, one could possibly think they had just wandered into Greenland and they would not be entirely wrong in doing so. The land was not exactly one suited to sustaining life but there were those whom had managed to carve out a living for themselves, once more highlighting the indomitable nature of the human nature.

Tonight, this part of Canada would be receiving some new visitors, only these visitors did not come in peace. They were here on a mission, and were poised to kill any and all who got in their way. A large circular space craft with multiple blinking lights on its rim hovered across the sky, its lights seemingly scanning the surface below them. The craft came to a stop over an empty spot amongst the trees and descended to the ground.

As it landed, the ship's side opened and a metal bridge unfolded, allowing what looked to be humanoid figures donned from head to toe in some type of body armor to walk out. The armor seemed set up to highlight their alien features such as curved heads with fins on the sides and what looked to be some sort of breathing system attached to the mask part. Their bodies were taller than a human by a good foot or so and yet they appeared slightly hunched over.

Other creatures had more obvious alien features such as spikes protruding from parts of their bodies or tails. A couple of them were holding chains which attached to the collars of large beasts that appeared similar to bull dogs only MUCH bigger and more teeth along with an extra eye in their foreheads.

One of the aliens stepped forward and touched some sort of wrist-mounted device. After a few clicks, it nodded, "This is the place, men. Half of you fan out while the rest of you stay and defend the ship. We'll draw out that blasted Siren and make her regret the day she and her friend dared to defy us..." With a salute, the men went to their assigned roles.

A mile and a half away, a girl wrapped head to toe in furs limped from the freshly-smoking ruins of what once was a cabin. She was limping because she screwed up; it happens, she knew, but it left with it a bitter taste in her mouth.She was lucky; so many of her kith died from missions turning sour. She managed to make it work for her, but still … She spat blood. That bastard had a hell of a right hook. She stopped and looked back at the ruins; the normal thrill of death didn’t fill her as it normally did. Only a gnawing pit of anxiety clawed at her insides, none of the fire of success she had grown accustomed to over the last several months. This did not bode well for the young assassin; while it was not quite a failure, it could be a herald for missions to come. After all, this was, in a way, ,a test.

His name was Volcanis, a retired superhero with the ability to control fire. Pretty standard power set. Apparently, he’s spent his retirement fighting oil companies for rights to mine the great North. These companies, in a rare spirit of cooperation, banded together and hired the Silver Hand. It was almost enough to bring a tear to the eye, if Katrina wasn’t so thoroughly disgusted. She had objected to the hit; Volcanis, she knew, was well loved by the people, and his death would always be treated with suspicion. But they insisted, and even went the step further to send Katrina herself. This shocked the young girl; she had never went after a meta-human target. She understood the implication.

She had stalked her target for a month, learning his habits, his powers, his personality. She got to know him so well she could mimic his every move. That afternoon, she made her move; snuck through his window, Gold Rings active. There was no way he could have been alerted to her presence … but something did. The fight was terrific, fire blasting this way and that, knives flashing through the air and drawing blood. It wasn’t until he slipped on a pool of his own blood did Katrina get the upper hand and slit his throat. She was thoroughly burned down her left side, of course, and he managed to get a flame-enhanced punch across her lower face, leaving a busted lip and rather nasty burn mark, but overall, she did well. She left the house to burn.

At first, she saw the lights and assumed they were from the activity of a metahuman; her cold eyes flashed again, Red Rings settling into place underneath her furs. She was wary of any activity in this area; for all she knew, it was those blasted oil companies sending someone to assassinate her. They wouldn’t want anyone to know they hired someone to take out a beloved superhero icon, after all. And besides, she wouldn’t put it past those monsters. She hated oil companies; not only were they destroying the world, but the pollution and corruption rife in these companies single-handedly destroyed millions of ecosystems. It’s only her self-control and decorum that prevented a very public slaying of every member of these organizations.

A closer look put paid to this idea; it was a ship unlike any sort she’s seen in any human air force, though she thought it could perhaps have been plucked directly from science fiction, all sleek lines and metallic chrome. It flew, soundlessly, through the air, no propulsion system visible on it, yet it was powerful; this was obvious from the way it flattened the trees. Her eyes narrowed; it was impossibly light, as well. The snow around it barely moved as it landed. A human ship that size would crack the ground and the hollow ice underneath it, plunging it into the depths.

But Katrina’s gaze wasn’t focused on the ship; no, she was focused on the creatures that came pouring out like ants. Some were humanoid, others not so much, and several were carrying dog like creatures. But dog-like was definitely the key word, as they were of a breed Katrina had never seen before. They were hunched as they walked, remaining tall despite this, and Katrina was instantly reminded of a beetle. There was only word to describe them.

”Aliens …”

The word was breathed, no louder than a whisper, the sound and smog instantly whipped away by the wind. They were searching for something, and for a second, Katrina was fearful that they were looking for her. But this was impossible; the Silver Hand had no dealings with extraterrestrial life, so unless Vulcanis dealt with these invaders, they were searching for another poor soul. A wicked smile crossed the face of the assassin, turning her pretty features absolutely malicious. This was just what she needed; a true challenge to test her abilities, no fire-blasting perverts or speedsters. Just her, forty aliens, and her weapons.

She stood then, her small height barely cresting the nearest snow shelf. Instinctually, she activated her Red Rings. A bow suddenly appeared in her hand, deadly looking with a graceful curve. Ambush in hand, she flicked her wrist; from three tubes, arrows blossomed. One of these she nocked, aiming down the site. The instant her hand touched the arrow, a Red Ring bloomed on it; and with a wicked smile, she released. The arrow whistled through the air; with a combined draw weight of 1,500 pounds, it was deadlier than a missile; a hundred pound draw weight bow can pierce an elephant skull at ten yards. A 220-pound bow can do the same from 100. This was ten times more powerful than that.

It started as a low humming; they wouldn’t have much time to worry about that, however, as three identical missiles rained down on them. Three were aimed; one to the far right, one to the far left, and one in the middle, each aimed for a hound and it’s handler. And boy, did it hit home. The sheer power of the projectiles, if nothing went amiss, would cleave straight through the body of hounds and into the lower body of their handlers, piercing through to the ground and leaving sizable holes in both. But Katrina wasn’t there; her Red rings turning Gold, she leapt off; harsh experience has taught her it’s easy to locate the locations of an archer. She had to keep moving.

Her heart was beating in her chest, sending it’s payloads of exhilaration up her skin. She felt alive, in this element, and despite the cold she was warm. Slowly she shed her clothing, leaving a trail of clothes (another trap for the enemy; if they take it, they’ll meet a rather explosive surprise) until she was just in her normal armor, the niqab covering her face and utility belt secured around her waist. The chill bit into her, threatening to make her shiver, but she refused; she was intent on her quarry. She was over them, like a spider, clinging to the top of their ship, gold rings under her hands to anchor her grip. She needed to watch them; that first move would put them on their guard. Now it was time to destroy their morale.

The space pirates, despite their impressive manpower, were like many of their kind. Arrogant, and full of themselves, thinking that superior numbers automatically ensured victory. This would prove to be a mistake as the first sign something was going wrong happened when their "hounds" suddenly stopped and perked up their ears. However, before they even had time to react, the assassin's arrows pierced their bodies like a hot knife through butter.

The arrows exploded violently, incinerating two of the handlers and those surrounding them. The third managed to let go of his dog's collar in time to avoid being completely incinerated though was still sent flying by the blast. Needless to say, panic ensued almost immediately as the pirates started to scream and panic, looking about every which way for whom dared assault them. Their arrival was suppose to go unnoticed, yet somehow they had been found out!

"Men, cease and desist immediately!" The commander roared, trying to maintain order as he kept looking around, "Where is that blasted scouting team?!" Suddenly, out of the darkness came one of their own, looking ragged and out of breath, "Where have you been?! Nevermind, get on board and activate the flare launchers! We'll set this whole forest on fire if that's what it takes to flush them out!"

The solider saluted him before going aboard the ship. A few seconds later, several ports opened up as turrets rose out of them. The turrets took aim at the forest around them...only for a few seconds later to turn and start firing on the other pirates! Screams of panic and confusion filled the air as the commander looked around for the source. Suddenly, he heard a whistle and looked up to the ship's roof, and what he saw made his blood run cold, "....You?!"

"Yoo-hoo!!!" Aurora sat on the ship's roof alongside Alan and was waving cheerfully at the pirate leader, "You didn't really think we were just gonna sit around waiting for you to come to us, did you?" As if to prove a point, she chucked an empty soldier uniform down at the commander's feet.

"By the way..." Alan used telekinesis to lift up a rather large computer console, "I think this here looked pretty important..." He dropped it and it smashed on the ground, "Whoops. Ah well..." He held out his hand, "Shall we, dear Aurora?"

"I thought you'd never ask, partner." With a wink, Aurora took the offered hand and the two fused in a flash of light back into Siren whom then leaped down and used a pirate's face as a landing pad before causing her arm to morph into a whip and started lashing out at those around her.

Chaos. Utter chaos. She had a plan; a surgical strike in these conditions could prove devastating; kill the underlings, capture the superior, torture him for information, then dispose of the corpses. Simple, clean, and she came out of it significantly richer than before. But just as she was about to make her move, the world exploded. The sound was nearly deafening as the flares exploded, nearly taking her clean off; it was all could manage to do to roll off the side of the ship before it caught her hair on fire. She’d have a bruise on her shoulder tomorrow, for sure, but hey, at least she still had an arm. IT didn’t take her long to locate the monkey wrench in her plan; two individuals, or maybe one if she was reading this right. Katrina blinked. That certainly wasn’t something you saw everyday.

But still, this could work to her advantage. The pirates were distracted avoiding the whip-arm flung out at them, the forest was slowly burning from the flares, and she herself has successfully managed to kill or incapacitate all the hunting dogs they had. This was perfect. A razor of a smile replaced the thoughtfulness. It was not a friendly look. IN fact, if you saw it, you’d probably pray to your god that it wasn’t aimed at her. Because matched with this smile came the dull red glow of her magic and two swords, one longer and curved, the other similar to a gleaming dagger. They were matched, wrought with impeccable metalwork and a silver handle. She held them as if they were an extension of her arms. With a small breath of preparation, she suddenly leaped, snow and dust exploding outwards from the force of the jump.

She was a blur of silver and steel. The second her feet touched the ground, her blade sliced through the gut of a soldier, spilling his blood on the ground. Without pausing a beat, she brought Dignity, the smaller of the two blades, through what she assumed was the spinal cord. If his anatomy was anything like a humans, he’d be paralyzed for however short his life was be. She cut through the soldiers like a dance; they were mere cannon fodder for the highly-trained assassin. She spend a decade honing her skills, and with her magic to back her up, they stood no chance. When her blade got stuck in the skull of one of the invaders, she dropped it, instead substituting it with a bo staff of considerable length. Segmented and made of metal, she wielded as easily as she did her swords. It was nothing if not effective, the power of her rings practically exploding aliens left and right.

And during this all, she was focused; her face tight, muscles loose and controlled. The only out of control portion of her was her ponytail, swinging left and right. Her breath came in even gasps, hanging as clouds in the cold air before being whipped away by the force of her deadly dance. Even her clothes bespoke control; tight leather with chain, not a single length of cloth was out of place or loose. Every movement and step was restrained and calculated for absolute perfection. She was, in short, the perfect killer. SHe didn’t pause to think of the lives she was taking, nor of the blood staining her pale skin and seeping into her clothes. It was kill or be killed, and she intended to live. She was not going to die in this frozen hell of a country.

The ground lay soaked in blood, the broken or dead bodies of the invaders scattered like the snowflakes that fall upon them. Any other day, Katrina would find it beautiful. But now she paid it no mind, her red-ringed tip of the staff pointed menacingly at the Captain. She had cornered him, destroying with almost contemptuous ease the guard he called to protect him. It had been child’s play to incapacitate him. He was bipedal, which means his knees were a severe weak spot. And now he lay in a slowly growing pile of his blood, fear tainting his face. ”Don’t kill him.” Whether or not the floating … thing was next to her wouldn’t matter; her voice cut through the sound of the fires and the wind as efficiently as a whip. It was the first words she had spoken, and her voice was surprisingly delicate, though as sharp and deadly as glass. Letting her words ring around the clearing, she slowly collapsed the staff into it’s inert form before sliding it back into her pouch. The look she gave the alien was enough to make even a hardened soldier wet his pants, but Katrina had a feeling he was made of harder stuff. So she smiled, a razor of her smile that conveyed no hope for his continued survival. And her hands curled, razor sharp claws sliding from the tips of the gloves with an audible shink.

”You …” She pointed at the alien with all the intensity of death itself. ”... are going to tell me everything I know.”

Alan had been in the middle of finishing off the last of the crew members, the remainders having fled into the trees where the cold weather was already snuffing out the flames. She turned in time to see the captain held at the woman's mercy and felt she should step in before things went too far, "Whoa, easy there. We both need him alive, remember?" Siren was all for breaking a few bones and all, but she made sure to take as little enjoyment as possible.

The captain looked between the two entities, obviously scared out of his mind as this was NOT how tonight was suppose to unfold. Yet somehow, the realization only seemed to make him crack up laughing, "So...this is how it ends, huh? Never even got the chance to avenge my fellow space pirates...ah well..." He reached over and started pushing buttons on his wrist-mounted device, causing a loud siren to go off from the ship, "I'm dead meat anyways..."

Siren's eyes widened before glaring back at the captain, "What did you do?!!"

"Nothing much, just one last chance for me to spit in your face...you better enjoy that "gift" of yours while you got it, demon...cause one of these days you are gonna live up to that name and be the kind of terror all the miserable humans of this world will fear and hate!!!" He laughed like a lunatic as a female voice could be heard from the ship.

"Self-Destruct in 10...9..."

Siren rushed over to Katrina, "Sorry about this!" She then picked her up and jetted into the sky as fast as she could.

"3...2...1...."

With that, the ship detonated in a huge explosion that lit up the night sky and incinerated the surrounding area. It was clear anyone caught in the blast radius would be charred black in seconds.

"Phew...that was way too close..." Siren floated to the ground again to set his cargo down, "You ok?"

Her night quickly went to hell. The thrill of battle left her as quickly as her feet left the ground and, for the second time that night, she gave a yelp of fear, clinging tightly to the creature that held her. She couldn’t put her down if she wanted; with her gold rings activated, nothing on this earth could dislodge her. Of course Katrina jumped off as soon as she could with an embarrassed flush to her face; she hid it well, though, her back turning to Siren to survey the carnage. A wild wind sprung up, flinging her hair behind her. During the fight it had gotten loose from it’s tight braid and now spun loose behind her. If laying straight, it would reach her ankles. Even with the wind blowing it and it having been kept in a bun all day, it flew straight like a curtain of ink.

”... well this was a waste.”

There was nothing left here. Soon, the cold and the snow would put these fires out, but the ship was a goner. Any possible artifacts that could be salvaged would be damaged beyond repair or the temper ruined or so filled with radiation as to be unusable. It was so frustrating! She took her anger out on a nearby stump, slamming her foot down on it. Splinters went flying as the stump exploding, the roots ripping clean from the ground and a nice sized hole where there was once wood. She stalked angrily back to Siren. With her hair loose, intense blue eyes, and long sword held in her hand, she looked like some deity of war, albeit a miniature one.

”... you. They were after you.” She was not asking a question as the blade leveled at her heart. Judging from the look on her face, she was more than capable of running her through. ”Tell me everything you know, or Ala’khir help me, I will end you.”