Rain ain’t gonna stop falling…

"Geeze, it’s pouring helluva lot out there! I swear, if I have to see anymore of this Rain-O-Vision, I’m gonna have to shoot someone!" growled Gunther, as he paced behind the counter, a broken fan spinning crazily above. Gunther really regretted his decision to move to New London. It had always been his dream, to own a bar. The problem was, that dream had turned into a nightmare. A drunken patron could be heard hurling what was left of yesterday’s lunch from his stomach. Things wouldn’t have been so bad if the Crimson Sisters hadn’t started the damned war. Now he was stuck in Sister territory, with no way out, just barely surviving on what the barflies could afford to pay for.

The door blew open, with a ceremonious crash of thunder. Must be a Sister patrol, thought Gunther, always barging into places, and demanding to be treated like queens. When the barking order to clean the table never came, Gunther looked up. A man clad in battered Zephyr armor staggered into the bar. Rain dripped from the metal sheathed figure’s helm and chest piece, as the dark visor turned to look at Gunther. The only sound which could be heard was the clicking and whirring of servos. "Y-ees—ss? What do you want? A d-d-rink?", stammered Gunther. The man simply clomped over to the nearest stool. Who the hell is this guy? Thought Gunther, as the figure ordered two shots of whiskey. The man silently raised a glass to his yet unopened visor. A click. A sliding sound could be heard, as the dark tinted visor slid away to reveal a drawn face, aged beyond it’s years. The eyes which stared out from that face seemed to seethe with fury. A tired fury. One which sank into the recesses of your mind, and laid in wait for the opportune moment….With a quick turn, Gunther tore his eyes away from the endless abyss of the stranger’s eyes. Slowly swallowing the last gulp of the yellow liquid in the glass, the metal figure set down two crumpled notes on the bar counter. The visor slid back into place, veiling the visage within. As Gunther watched the figure leave, he examined the notes left on the counter. They were standard Union credits. 200 standard Union credits. Gunther’s jaw dropped as he continued to stare at the notes in his hand. Outside, the rain continued to fall.

…The pattering rain on his armour created a constant drone within the suit, which he couldn’t block out. It had been days since he had seen a human face. All the faces he had seen since then were either Crimson Sister visors, or those of the dead Union soldiers, which littered the ground at periodic intervals, some of them he ever knew. Many had said that the Union was no more. He was living proof that it was not. Not only that, he carried with him the only hope of ever wresting the Crimson Sisters grip on the world. He palmed the sphere in his waist pouch, feeling security whenever he held it. The smooth surface was as cold as ice. The small notch on the side of the sphere beckoned him. No, he told himself. Not yet. It was not time yet. Soon, though. Very soon…

The whizzing of a Sister patrol could be heard over head, as he trudged across the mud towards the shimmering dome, which housed the throne of the Mother Superior of the Crimson Sisters. He stopped a few paces short of the dome. From the storage slot of his suit, he drew a heavy rifle. He once again continued his heavy pace, servos whirring, as he stepped through the shimmering light, and into the dome…

Jaeree was not feeling ver up this morning. She had been stuck with the role of watching the lower levels of the dome. As her boots clanked along the steel lined corridors, she silently cursed the armour she was wearing. It made her hot and uncomfortable. It didn’t fit either. Damn the quartermistress. Another sound of clanking joined hers, as turned a corner. Jaeree’s head snapped up in alert. Clutching her rifle to her breast, she followed the clanking sound, silently stalking. The whirring of servos could be heard now. A suit of Union armour in Sister territory?, she thought. She leapt from her hiding place behind a pillar, and pointed her rifle at the intruder. "Halt in the name of the Crimson Sisters!" The intruder was wearing an old suit of Union armour. His head was down, and Jaeree could not see his face. All she saw was his mouth. ‘Bitch’ was the last word she heard. Four rounds hit her in the chest, punching through the crimson armour, and throwing Jaeree back several feet. As she lay on the ground, a red haze foamed over her eyes. Through the haze, she could see the intruder stand over her. She could see the fury in those eyes. With the last of her strength, she diverted her gaze, feeling a warm wetness spread out from her chest to her neck….

Bitch. She deserved it. He stared at the body of the Sister lying in the pool of ever spreading blood. There was no time to waste, no matter how much he wanted to watch her die. The sphere found itself in his hands again. Soon, very soon.

"We have a breach in the west lower quadrant of the dome. All units mobilized to contain threat." Kayleen stomped her foot in frustration. The sound of metal on metal echoed down the corridors leading from the room. How could this have happened? There was only one person loose in the dome, and her subordinates had failed to stop him! "Bring me my weapons! If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself!" Kayleen removed a slender pulse launcher from the mahogany case laid before her. Locking the launcher onto her arm, Crimson Sister Scribe Kayleen marched down the corridors complete a task her orderlies failed to complete.

…Before him stood the object of his long journey. The glowing reactor core of the Crimson Sister dome rose like out of the floor in front of him. The dull throb out the reactor matched the beat of his heart, as he drew the sphere from his pouch. Servos whirred as he stretched his hands out towards the glowing behemoth, and pressed a finger into the notch. The sphere’s cold surface began to swirl with colours. Red, orange, yellow, then red again. The sphere began to glow, and a soft warmth began to flow out of the sphere. He stared at the glowing reactor before him, daring it to stop him. He was so close now. There was no conceivable way he could fail now. The heat from the sphere was now more intense, and he could feel it even through the thick gauntlets covering his hands. Suddenly the sphere let out a burst of white light, blinding him. He could feel his body being burnt away through his armour. He smiled, the fury at last gone from his eyes. He could join the rest of them now. The Union was no more. The sphere shattered, releasing the energy contained within at mind shattering speed. A wave of whit light spilled from the reactor chamber, as the reactor walls disintegrated under the intense light. The deadly wave spilled into the dome.

Kayleen paused in mid stride. There was a loud rumbling to her left. She turned her head, and was engulfed in a purifying white light…