Tribes and Tribulations

Delithita

Sitting down on the hill hugging her knees Delithita gazed across the rolling hills of what the Blood Eagle called Delta Osirius she inhaled deeply. The air was fresh, untainted by tribal population. Having been recently discovered the Imperial tribe (as Del thought of them) had only a planetary occupation force. They were here only in enough number to keep the planet theirs, and to keep other tribal scouting parties from claiming it for themselves. Del's Peltast armor creaked a bit as she breathed slowly, allowing her senses to spread out across the planet she felt a familiar presence. Touching it she smiled as it returned her touch.

Time to go good sir. We are to meet Razor and Xena on Dralnori Prime.

Aye, be with you in a moment dear-heart.

Standing she stretched out her body protesting it's sudden departure from comfort by popping audibly in many places. Wincing in a pleasurable pain she checked to make sure her Stormhammer was in good order and started walking down the hill towards where her and her companion's fighter sat in a cave nearby.

A hundred yards down the road and voices were heard. Using the harsh language of the Blood Eagle. Moaning as she continued down the path she shook her head. She hated male Blood Eagles. They were all for banging their chests, but often times they were all talk when it came to her.

They rounded the corner and spied her. Drawing weapons instantly they opened fire. Seconds later, there was an abundance of dust and smoke where Del had once stood.

As the smoke cleared Del stood with an annoyed look on her face, in the middle of a crater. Walking out of the crater she approached the slack-jawed Blood Eagle squad. Four in total. Two wore Myrmidon armor, one wore Hoplite, the other a Peltast. Shaking dust off of her unmarked Peltast armor she drew back her right fist. Her metaplas glove came into view. A quick strike and one of the Myrmidons flew through the air. Her fist striking him in the square in the gut. An uppercut strike bending low with a fluid movement. The armor plating on the breastplate/stomach piece shattered with the sheer ferocity of the strike. The crunch of bone and the splattering of blood hitting the ground were the most audible sounds of her movement. The man hit the ground in a heap. Not moving an inch. Blood poured freely from his mouth, and his eyes were wide in surprise. It seems he had not seen the strike coming until his life force was forced from his body.

Standing slowly from her kneeled position Delithita turned to the other three. The remaining Myrm was the first to react. Jeraould Saranchez, according to the label on his breast. a trio of claw like marks just before that must have been his rank designation. (Del never bothered to learn tribal rank structure.) He drew a white weapon with a revolving four-barreled chamber. Mini-gun was Del's thought as her hand punched a hole where the claw like marks used to be. Splinters spread like ripples on a pond across his breastplate. Ripping her hand back she pulled his breastplate clean off and it shattered. A gaping hole where his heart used to be. He clutched at the space, and fell over silently. His gun never having spat its fire.

Drawing back her hand she threw the Myrm's heart at the Peltast who was in motion, reaching behind his back for a blade. The instant the lump of flesh hit him in the face, he detonated. Hot pieces of melted armor and charred gore were flung at high velocity from the point of the explosion. The Hoplite was running for his life. A mere tribal-less female having eliminated his patrol.

Shrugging at the fleeing Hoplite she laughed as an explosion behind him flung him cartwheeling through the air. Arms pirouetting in an attempt to land on his feet. At the same time he ran into a nearby tree, the sound of feet struck the ground softly behind her, causing her to smile. A second later a pair of strong arms encircled her trim waist. Closing her eyes she leaned her head back and enjoyed the proximity of her companion.

"Your timing is of course perfect, if not dramatic."

"Yeah, sorry, I couldn't resist."

"Do not be sorry. Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Gods no. Must be something else to the water here, I didn't find a single frozen over lake. Even in the supposed arctic zones. Just a cold wasteland up there. Not even a good patch of snow for Hunter's sake."

"Yes dear. Now shall we be off now that the medium is efficiently treed?"

"Aye, let us be so."

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