While Eli riddled the missile chamber with explosives, and Raines bore the brunt of the Vokians' relentless assault, halfway across the cavern, Arthur was in the middle of finishing his own part of the mission.

The room he had entered turned out to be the main Control Station for all activities in the underground cavern. The hall was about a hundred meters by thirty. Large enough to fit several rows of work stations lined up in neat rows. It reminded him of the NASA mission towers in old movies.

Unfortunately, half of those stations had been destroyed in the bloody firefight that occured immediately Arthur entered. The fatigued young man was secretly pleased by the suit's auto-repair function. Though he had suffered intense pain when radiation seeped in through cracks in the armor, a thin membrane had soon covered up those holes. Of course, that membrane could barely block a stone's through, let alone a bullet. But right now, it was all that kept him from death.

Arthur winced as he pushed a vokian's corpse off the major terminal at the front. He wiped dark red blood off the panel which was quite literally a flat, black surface. Arthur placed his palm on the surface, and the surface lit up with holographic lights. He was surprised to find that the vokian was in the middle of manually destroying as many files as possible.

It seemed these guys did not bother with encryption or security on their systems. Arrogance of the strong?

Arthur did not have time to sort what was important and what was not. He immediately used the 'hack' function on his gauntlet to begin sucking in as much information as possible. When he saw how slow the process was, he swore to get it upgraded once they got back to town. For an agent that often deals with information manipulation, this speed was beyond embarrassing. It was like someone still using a USB3.0 flash drive to steal information from a conglomerate.

While Arthur lamented his terrible equipment, Dayle was in a predicament of his own. Namely: Staying Alive.

As a child, Dayle had come across quite a few supernatural characters in comics and movies. He had always admired their impossible strength, while at the same time relishing the fact he would never have to face something like that in his entire lifetime.

Why then, in the name of God was he fighting combinations of Hulk, Hercules and Hellboy all rolled into nice blends of natural disasters! Dayle cursed as he backed away, his revolvers constantly repelling the vokians that dashed at him, as well as preventing them from surrounding him.

Though there were only eleven of them, they felt more like one hundred. Their pain threshold was significantly higher than humans, their temperament more violent than starving beasts. They charged relentlessly, regardless of streams of blood from bullet puncture holes.

Dayle himself was getting frustrated. He had to fight these monsters while keeping aware of his surroundings to prevent himself from getting trapped. And even then, he still had to watch out for falling debris and flames.

Dayle decided to switch tactics. He swapped out the bullets in each revolver as he backed up in between two crates whose surfaces were red from the heat. Two vokians sped into the narrow passageway, while the rest jumped onto the top of the crate as they gave pursuit.

Dayle frowned. Just two? Damn it. His hands were lightning quick as three shots rang out, followed by three explosions. The first bullet exploded upon contact with the ground in front of him. Dust and earth kicked up and blew holes in the sides of the crates. Just as the smoke began to rise, two more bullets tore through them and into the vokians' massive frames.

If there was one good thing about these massive beings, it was that they were walking targets. Their massive frames made targeting too easy, although it was made even easier since they followed Dayle into the narrow passage way.

No sooner had the explosion occurred, did three vokians leap down from the crates, eyes brimming with hate and rage.

Dayle ignored them and stole through the hole in the crate to his right.

A second later, a vokian sped into the hole in pursuit. BAM! With a loud bang, she was expelled through the hole and slammed into a box of explosives in the other crate. Before she could move a bullet grazed her cheek then slammed into the grenade behind her head. The curses in her heart had nowhere to go before the entire crate erupted in a symphony of explosions, completely throwing off the fallen rebar that had held it in place.

The explosion took out three vokians on that crate and two unlucky ones who were just too close.

Dayle tore out of the crate with a staff in his right hand. He had already holstered both pistols. He was unwilling to use anymore of Dee's special ammos. He was quite sure of just how expensive each bullet was. Whether or not she was really capable of making these rounds, he was sure the only reason she gave them so much was to win their trust. As such he would not stupidly waste them with the belief she could easily make more.

That aside though, Dayle was continually impressed by the weaponry employed by these vokians. The Bo-staff in his hand was one such weapon created by them. The staff was made from a black, conductive metal, with a span of about sixty centimeters in between which was layered with an insulating material. This was the 'control panel.' The rod had the ability to collapse into itself, such that at a first glance, it would seem like a baton. Even more peculiar was the ability to only collapse one side at a time. Which quickly turned it from a staff to something resembling a bamboo practice sword. Made entirely of metal of course.

The most intriguing part of this weapon however, was the ability to charge the conductive parts with several volts of electricity. The heavy stun effect was what caused the vokian female earlier to be unable to run from the crate on time. Well, he says stun, but if that thing hit a human without protection, they would be lucky to find charred remains. The weapon's overbearing weight and power further proved the vokians' superior physique.

Dayle dashed out from between the crates, then headed for the control panel. The remaining three vokians chased him, although much more cautiously this time. They could not afford to look down on this human. His reckless decisiveness was probably on par—if not higher—than theirs.

Dayle stifled a cry as something barrelled against his right shoulder. The force blasted him forward and to the floor. But he quickly tucked into a roll to absorb the impact. After tumbling for a few meters, he pushed against the floor. The added momentum propelled him ahead by half a meter as the floor right where he had been erupted, revealing the red earth underneath.

Dayle sprung to his knees, then whirled around. His brows knotted in a tight grimace as he realized the remaining vokians had found themselves some weapons. Having used their weapons himself, Dayle knew for a fact that his current gear stood no chance against those monsters. If it was not for the fact that he won that mini-test, his gear would have been the most basic of the basic and that last shot would have seared through his shoulder.

Dayle knew at this point, running was futile. He could only hope to survive long enough for Arthur to come back him up. Dayle ignored the pain in his right shoulder as he transferred the staff to his left hand. The staff collapsed on the end closer to his body. He held it in front of him, then lined his body parallel to the staff. This was to prevent as much of his body from being a target as possible.

Dayle sighed as he pointed the staff to the ground. As part of his training, he had learned how to use all sorts of weapons to the point of ambidexterity as a child. However, no matter how many weapons he learned, he still preferred the revolvers as his primary weapons. Next to that, he supposed the sword would be the next closest, only because it was the weapon he trained the most with. The staff was good, but Arthur far surpassed his proficiency with staffs.

Dayle's breath slowed as he concentrated on the vokians who had slowed on account of his strange stance. They raised their respective rifles, then squeezed the triggers. Dayle's breath caught as several streams of light tore at him from the weapons. Dayle almost smiled. This was much easier than dodging paintballs. Though the speed of these plasma rounds were incomparably faster, the tell-tale streams of light made tracking almost too easy.

The staff in Dayle's left hand moved like a whip, leaving arcs of electricity in its wake. Within the span of a second, several beams had been cut down. Dayle suppressed a wince as one of the beams grazed his leading left leg. The heat seared through the leather and took a deep bite out of the left side of his thigh. Luckily, the protective membrane sealed off the wound before radiation could seep in. Fuck! That hurt! Gritting his teeth, Dayle cursed, "Son of a bitch!" There went his mobility!

Saddled with a bad leg, Dayle struggled to keep the beams at bay, but when his armor began to crack in several places, the young agent knew he had run out of time. There was no way he could wait for Arthur. Dayle decided to switch tactics. He flung a grenade at the space between him and his pursuers. Without even waiting to see the results, he spun around and pushed off with his right leg.

The vokians would not be fooled however, as they recognized the thrown grenade to be a harmless smoke grenade. They immediately gave chase, even as white smoke exploded for several meters. However, the vokians did not pause. They clearly saw the human run for his life. His injuries were proof enough he would not attempt an ambush. He just did not have the speed anymore.

The three vokians shot out of the smoke, rifles raised, almost at the same time. The vokian on the left felt the hair on his back stand on end. Immediately, he bent his head to the side, guided solely by instinct. To his surprise, a black mass shot by, where his head had been. But before his eyes could expand in shock, his forehead exploded as a bullet flew out.

Dayle emerged from the smoke before the corpse began to drop. He flung the staff at the vokian at the right, then charged the one in the middle.

From the moment the staff emerged to Dayle's charge, not even a second had passed. Thus, even as the other two vokians whirled around in shock, the staff had smashed into the further one. Though the staff bounced off and begun to spin in mid-air, the massive voltage running along the metal served to stun him momentarily. Dayle's left hand held his revolver, which he quickly pointed at the closer. Two quick shots rang out in succession, but the vokian was too nimble and possessed quick reactions.

Before Dayle could squeeze the trigger, she had already predicted his move and swiftly pushed to the right, effectively moving out of range. To her surprise however, only the first shot landed at her original location. The second bullet slammed into the earth just behind her, forcing her to a halt.

That momentary pause cost her her life.

Dayle didn't even look at her as three bullet holes appeared in her chest. He had already caught up to the third, and final vokian who was just recovering from the initial blow. Dayle could not help but smile wryly when he noticed the stun did not even last up to two seconds. These guys really did have one hell of a body.

The staff had dropped to the vokian's chest height by the time Dayle caught up. Dayle had already holstered the empty pistol, and deftly grabbed the staff's handle with his left hand. Before the vokian could regain its faculties, the staff smashed against his face. The vokian reeled back in shocked pain, but Dayle did not give him room to run.

Immediately, the young agent was in close quarters again. He rained down strike after strike on the vokian. The poor man's superior physique meant he could take more pain than the average person, but it also meant he would suffer even longer if someone tried to kill him with brute force. Which was exactly what Dayle did.

The sound of breaking bones compounded each blow, but pain and electricity made sure the vokian could do nothing but remain a punching bag. On the rare occasion when excess adrenaline allowed the vokian to launch a surprise attack, Dayle would deftly amble to another side of the vokian's body and start a new stream of attacks.

Five minutes later, Dayle checked his breath, which had gotten somewhat frantic during the beatdown. On the ground before him lay a bloody mess.. The body had been mangled beyond recognition, with only an occasional patch of red skin denoting what this mess once was. The rest of the corpse was caked in layers of dark red.

Dayle took a deep breath to calm his heart as the staff returned to his inventory. A soft cough drew his attention to the female vokian a few meters behind him. To his surprise, she was still alive. Well, to be more accurate, it was more like she was waiting on death. Her body had formed an island round a thick pool of dark red which leaked out from her chest. Sweat and blood haphazardly matted dark hair to her face, listless eyes struggling to retain consciousness.

Dayle sported a slight limp as he walked over to her. Thankfully, as a Radi, his injuries had already started to self heal, albeit at a slow rate. A revolver materialized in his right hand as he crouched next to the vokian. He tapped her forehead with the barrel. "Oooi, anyone alive in there?"

The vokian stiffened. Her eyes flittered back and forth, but judging from how unfocused they were, she had already lost her sight. Blood caked her gritted teeth as she forced out, "B-bastard!"

"That's me," Dayle replied with a smile. "I have a few questions. Answer them and I'll let you pass quickly." The vokian glared at the rough direction of his voice, but said nothing. "How about we start with your name?"

"..."

"Fine then. Something simpler. What's your race called?"

"We—nngh! We are the Vorg!" Every word was a painful, strained effort, but none of that could hide the fanatic pride she had in that name. It was almost intimidating.

"Is that the V in V.O.K?"

The vorg's lips curled in ridicule and contempt. "V.O.K is the initials of the man who shall punish you." The sheer arrogance and certainty in her tone surprised even Dayle.

"What's his full name."

The vorg violently coughed up a mouthful of blood. Her body shook violently as she fell into shock. Dayle watched helplessly as the body finally went limp. A quick check revealed she no longer had a pulse.

Dayle got to his feet, then made to leave. BAM!

Dayle looked down in shock at the vorg who had grabbed onto his ankles in a vice grip, as if letting go would kill her. Her eyes blazed with righteous fire as she forced out three words, "Viktor Ordinatius Kelvin."

Three simple words. But at that moment, Dayle felt his shoulders nearly bend over from the pressure exerted by the vorg. Dayle did not need instincts to tell him that this Viktor would be a very difficult opponent to deal with in the future.

As for the vorg, it was almost like she had come back from hell just to send that message. As soon as she said those three words, a satisfied smirk appeared on her face as it fell to the floor.

Dayle freed his leg from her weakened grip. He watched the limp arm fall to the ground with a tinge of respect in his eyes. "Viktor Ordinatius Kelvin huh." Now that he was finally alone, Dayle took the time to carefully examine the Vorg's physique.

I sure as hell hope all the women are not this tall. From the enemies he had fought so far, he had come to the conclusion that this was a true warrior race. The ratio of men to women he had fought had been a measly 1:3, and that was even with him being biased towards the men. Also, though the women were on average, a head or two below the men, the shortest he had seen so far was around six feet.

Dayle pressed the female vorg's arms and had to suppress an involuntary scream. Her muscles were far denser than even some of the toughest body builders. It took all he had to push his fingers in. And this was when they were relaxed. It was no exaggeration to state that if it was not for the armor he wore, he would not even be a match for these guys in a straight fight.

Dayle knew it would take a biologist to really get to the bottom of what made these guys tick. A certain doctor flashed in his mind. I wonder if this is enough to get a date. Dayle placed a palm on the corpse, then tried to assimilate it.

ERROR!

Biological Material Too Large

Please Use a Corpse-Retriever for retrieval of large Biological Materials.

Dayle frowned. Well, there went that idea. He considered, chopping off the vorg into smaller pieces, but a) that was too messy, and b) he had a slight respect for the way these guys fought. He decided to leave any corpse desecration to the only people universally allowed to do so. Dayle hoisted the vorg onto his right shoulder, wincing slightly at the strain caused. "Hey Art, still alive?"

"Yeah," came a rather frustrated reply. "I estimate another five minutes before this download's done. Once we get back, I'm upgrading the hack module."

"And I thought I had it tough," Dayle chuckled. He circumvented pockets of flames and debris as he made his way to the control station. A patch of yellow caught his eye and he paused. Oh yeah, they had come here for something in the first place. In all the excitement, he'd almost forgotten. Dayle sped up till he reached the door to the control station. He placed the vorg by the door then ran back in to the chaotic mess.

A grey blade of about 30cm appeared in his right hand as he squatted next to the corpse of a Nadea Wasp. According to the game guide, the core should be located... Dayle expertly stuck the knife into the wasp's head. He cut deep, breaking past its protective skull, then made a laceration large enough for his hand to fit. He shifted the knife to his left, then dug into the brain with his right. For better or worse, the suit did not have the sensitivity function, which let its wearers actually 'feel' how wet or squishy an item was. This helped to reduce the nauseating process of rifling through the head for a core.

Although in Dayle's team, probably only Arthur would have a bit of trouble doing this barehanded. Both Dayle and Raines had engaged in hunting expeditions as children for different reasons, so they were well used to skinning animals and cutting them up for parts.

Eventually, Dayle's hands clasped a round object located near the brain's stem. Dayle kept that knowledge for future references as he pulled out the object. The object tore off the nerves that bound it to the stem, then presented itself to its captor.

Dayle wiped blood off the core, to see a translucent yellow orb with a cloudy interior about the size of a tennis ball. Surprisingly it was not as solid as he had thought it would be. The impression he got from pictures was a solid crystal. But on the contrary, it could be compressed to an extent when enough force was applied. Sort of like a tennis ball.

This time, the gauntlet readily accepted the orb even though it was a biological material.

Satisfied with his find, Dayle went around the hall, searching for and retrieving orbs from any intact corpse he could find. He counted seventeen. Pity, if not for the overly mangled corpses and the others buried under piles of debris he may have had a few more.

Dayle returned from his last find to find Arthur leaning against the wall by the dead vorg. Dayle chuckled when he saw the state of Arthur's armor. "You look like shit."

Too bad about the helmet, as Dayle could not see Arthur's mocking raised brow. Between the two of them, Dayle's armor was far worse. It looked it was hanging on by sheer willpower alone. Arthur just snorted, "I could say the same about you."

Dayle looked at the carnage behind them. "Just once I would like to complete a covert op. As a covert op."

Arthur sported a wry smile as he shook his head in resignation. "As long as you are involved, that will forever be impossible."

Dayle opened his mouth to retort, but then changed his mind. As long as they wore these helmets, he could not fully express himself. Sighing, he said instead, "Wanna make the report, or do I do it?"

Arthur shrugged. "Go ahead. I know you want to gloat."

Dale grinned. "You know me too well." Dayle switched to the party channel. "Hey, we're done on our end. You slowpokes ready yet?" There was a long pause. Just when Dayle was about to repeat himself, a tremendous roar punctuated with a heavy burst of static broke through.

"GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!"

Dayle and Arthur shared a look. They both knew that tone. Their respective H-bikes suddenly materialized in front of them. Dayle draped the vorg in front of him as he took a seat, using his body to support the corpse.

Dayle turned to see Arthur staring at him. "What?"

Arthur looked at the corpse, then back at him. Dayle could feel the smirk that accompanied the snarky tone, "New girlfriend?"

Dayle patted the vorg with a frosty smile. "For you. I know you desperately need one." Without giving Arthur a chance to reply, he pushed down on the lever and sped off into a large tunnel on the left wall.

Arthur chuckled as he kicked into gear and chased after the speeding agent.

****************

A/N: Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter. Will be hosting a bonus chapter sometime this weekend titled 'Multimedia Explosion.' Where we can all try to have a semi-uniform image of what each character looks like... hehe.. take care everyone!