Sweet Venom Arc 03 Ch. 13

Tungsten breakshots - check. Meta-steel slugs - check. Explosive rounds - check. Low penetration buckshots - check.

A gentle sigh escaped through Seeth's lips as she ran her hands over the cold metal body of the SAFU cannon. She was staring, determinedly out of the cockpit window, her eyes fixed on the small vessel she'd been locked on and observing, for the last twenty-four hours.

Not that she'd been able to observe much; the vessel had no windows, not even privacy ones. She'd spent the last day tracking a metal box as it drifted lazily about through space, without a worry or care in the world. From the outside it looked like any other small cargo vessel, unassuming and quiet.But the inside...

But the inside was anything but.

Seeth's leg bounced in anticipation, the weight of the SAFU shifting onto her other thigh. Her gaze remained firmly locked on the Vora Baron meat barge. She'd be going into this one cautiously, and slowly if she could. When she'd been a part of the Draconic Alliance (which felt like a lifetime ago now,) the DA military had been outright dismissive of the Barons; low threat, low priority, little more than vermin. Even after she'd joined the military, she never once had a run-in with them, nor did the attitude towards them change.

But Garnet had told her a very different story.

To the nomads, the Barons were an unstoppable force of guns, blubber and teeth. They devoured everything and everyone in their path, stripping down system after system to the bone, and picking at the carcass with their yellow-stained teeth.

Thinking about it now, as Seeth watched that small, dull cube float around through space, undisturbed and unchallenged, it suddenly hit her; the Vora Barons were bullies. To the might of an empire like the DA, of course they were no threat; bullies punch down, not up. Sitting on their vulcan throne, protected by the millionth fleet and shrouded in starfire plasma, the DA were untouchable, undesirable by the Baron's standards. The nomad's scraped-together fleets, in comparison, cobbled together by those who needed to fight, were low hanging fruit. As Garnet put it, the barons don't want to fight...

They want to feed.

Seeth had intended to observe the barge for longer, but had learnt nothing of any real value. A few days ago this barge had been a part of a much larger Baron fleet, according to Garnet's intel, but after their raid, the barge had moved away from the other ships, and didn't show any signs of joining back up. Seeth felt pressed now to act, sooner rather than later. The spoils from their last attack were fresh, and every moment mattered.

Seeth glanced quickly around the rest of her ship, and for a moment, in that little pocket of space which held just her, and the Barons, she felt a pang of loneliness ripple through her chest. Although disappointed, Seeth couldn't say that she was surprised that no-one else had come to help her on this one. The other mercs just weren't willing to put their necks on the chopping block (or chopping board, as one had joked) and go up against the Barons. Hope was gone, the Barons were an uncontested force, and they knew it; there were only so many excruciating losses the average nomad could take before just abandoning their post. The risk was high, but someone needed to take a stand.

Seemed fitting it would be her.

She sighed quietly again, nodded to herself and stood from the cockpit chair.

Her body gear was slim in its appearance, and not particularly striking. Just a sealed mask and black, tactical body armour tightly fitted to her body (as most outfits were,) with patches of exposed skin around her arms and calves. She also wore a pair of black fingerless gloves, for extra grip. Strapped to various locations on her body were bandoliers and pouches filled with SAFU shells, which would have been completely unmanageable, unmoveable to most. They contained hundreds of kilograms of tungsten and meta-steel, ready to punch oversized holes in anything the wielder desired. But Seeth moved as if they weighed nothing at all. Her new axe and SAFU cannon were holstered on her back, along with a tactical enviro-shield and omni-directional mobility module, perfect for slow, precise navigations through space. As she tweaked her armour however, she couldn't help but run her fingers along it, as she stared out at the space between her and the barge.

I could always try teleporti-

She shuddered, and furiously shook the thought out of her head.

No.

A fierce, self-loathing scowl spread across her face.

Time's ticking. Let's do this.

Before she had the chance to second guess herself again, she pulled open the first airlock door. She pulled her mask over her face as the hiss of air escaping filled the ship, and solidified her decision. She was doing this, and doing it now. There was a hatch on the bottom of the barge that looked like it could be pried open from the outside. Failing that, she would go loud and use a breaching shell from the SAFU to punch a hole through. This was the back-up plan though; a quiet entry would allow her far more tactical flexibility.

The second airlock door hissed open. and the silence of space enveloped her. Gently, she stepped out into the void, and the lock closed behind her.

Seeth had paid a small fortune to have Venner's ship fitted with a decent-grade cloaking module, allowing her to stay perilously close to the ship without being spotted. It hurt to take that amount of money from their 'Find Diego' savings fund, but an investment like this would only result in more money later down the line, or so she hoped anyway.

A pulse of cobalt-blue fire erupted from her mobility module and a brief flicker of blue flame from her back pushed her through the cold vacuum of space towards the barge. Only minutes later her hands were brushing up against the dull, metal exterior. She found the handle of the hatch and she pulled herself up to it. Wrapping both her hands around the handle, she pushed with her feet against the hull until she felt a sharp clunk from the panel, as it came loose.

The barge's internal shielding cast a visible blue haze over the hole which prevented the air from being sucked out, but posed no threat in stopping Seeth from boarding. Her observations had been correct too, it was large enough for her to squeeze into. The pull of the ship's artificial gravity hit her suddenly as she wiggled through the hatch, carefully ensuring that her weapons did not catch on the metal. As she climbed slowly to feet, she looked around the room she'd found herself in with keen and determined eyes, taking in everything. It looked like she was at the end of a dark maintenance tunnel, with a single junction exit straight ahead. The walls and floor had an unnatural brassy colour to it, as though it had once been a silver that had become dulled with oil and grease over many years.

Listening closely, Seeth unclipped her mask and her tongue flickered out from between her lips like a snake, tasting the air. She flinched as she tasted blood, staunch iron on every flick of her tongue.

With her current surroundings seemingly empty - the only thing she could hear was a repeating, distant drip - she slowly padded down the grated tunnel. Before long, she'd reached the junction. Pressing her back against the cool metal tiles, she cautiously peered around the corner.

Directly in front of her was more corridor, dark and bloomy. It seemed to lead further up into the ship, perhaps towards the sleeping quarters.

Behind her was a door, partially open, with a bright white LED light shining through the gap. After a moment's deciding, she turned and made towards it. Her breathing was calm and composed. She unholstered the SAFU and held it out infront of her, ready to fire. Slowly, with the gun's nose, she pushed the door open.

Her eyes watered and she fought, hard, to stifle a cough, as the smell inside the room hit her.

She seemed to have entered a butcher's kitchen. The room's surfaces were stained, and littered with bloodied cutting tools. In the centre of the room was a steel trough, full to the brim with blood. The trough had a draining tap at the bottom, with several glass jars, pre-filled, stashed around its base.

Several nomads were dangling from chains, upside-down, their heads hanging over the trough and their necks slashed.

Drip... drip... drip...

Seeth swallowed. The nomads were long gone, the life having left their bodies likely several hours ago.

I waited too long...

The room presented her with two new doors, one on her right and one directly ahead.

These people might still be alive...

She could hear a faint bubbling through the door on her right as she softly padded over, SAFU first.

No. Forward. Always move forward.

She pushed the door open, heavy on its hinges and was hit immediately with a wave of uncomfortable warmth, accompanied by a slightly sweet taste on the tip of her tongue.

It was another small room, with nowhere else to go but back the way she'd came. The room was far from empty though. Her gaze moved over the large, sealed tanks lining all four walls of the room. Each one was filled to the brim with thick brown or orange fluid, and was covered in a misty layer of condensation. Cautiously, Seeth moved towards one, leaning over to peer into the tank, but it was impossible to see through the murk and condensation.

She released her ever-tightening grip of the pump of the SAFU, and gently wiped the tank with the palm of her hand with a soft little squeak.

There was someone inside.

A young, adult human floated helplessly, suspended in the thick fluid. There was a mask clamped around his unmoving face, Seeth could just about make out the silhouette of pipes, running from the mask upwards, to the seal of the tank.

Slowly, Seeth tapped her finger against the glass. The man's eyes immediately opened wide, and stared at Seeth in fear and trepidation. Seeth's head lurched back, but her hand stayed pressed up against the glass. She had no idea how this man was still alive. His sickly, brown-stained hand reached out towards hers. As his fingertips pressed against the tank, a chunk of flesh fell away from his palm, and drifted aimlessly about in the murk.

The Controller retreated away from the tank, focusing hard on keeping her breathing calm, and her breakfast down. She looked around the rest of the room, at the numerous other tanks, trying hard not to picture what would be inside... who knows, maybe they were empty? Her heart sank though as she noticed that each tank had a red numerical counter by its side, including the one in front of her. The timers were all counting down. The timer was accompanied by a set of hand-scribbled notes hanging from a small hook. By the looks of it, every tank contained a person, and each was alive. It had been calculated so. The notes all said the same thing, with only some minor variation between them:

89KG - MARINATE FOR 336 HOURS - 40 DEGREES - CHEFS SAUCE - SERVE ON RELEASE, SHOULD FALL RIGHT OFF THE BONE.

This is where the warmth was coming from. Seeth stumbled back from the tanks, her eyes darting between the notes, the timer and the silhouettes of the people within.

They were being slow cooked... alive.

Her hands squeezed around the handle and foregrip of the SAFU.

If there was anyone who deserved to feel her wrath, it was the Barons.

There didn't seem to be an easy way of releasing the captives from their slow cookers without making a lot of noise. The young man's eyes had remained locked on her, and she had to pull herself away from his desperate expression. She turned and left without a second look, marching back to the other door within the butcher's room, and gently pulling it open.

The door opened into a wide, metal corridor, with a large barred jail cell directly on one side. Immediately she was hit with the loud scraping and clanking of metal chains, along with the muffled sounds of crying, sobbing and screaming.

The small cell opposite her held a group of around thirty nomads, chained to the floor and walls, and all in various states of despair and loss. There was no political agenda or racial preferences amongst the Vora Barons; food was food, and every single prisoner, no matter their size or species, was suffering the same.

In the distance, she could hear the clatter of cutlery, hearty chuckles followed by the deliberate crunch of feasting mouths, all concealed by the doorways further down the corridor. The monstrous comradery could almost be enticing if divorced from the reality of the meat barge. Of all the things the Barons could be accused of, not knowing how to enjoy themselves wasn't one of them.

An oddly positive feeling rippled through her despite the suffering in the air. Slowly, she realised that her corruptive urges were at the lowest they'd been in what felt like an eternity. And despite what she was walking into, she couldn't help but embrace that feeling. The thought dawned on her that maybe, maybe the corruptive beast lurking within her was tamable.

If only it hadn't taken a cannibal's floating chop shop for her to realise it.

Next door to the cell was an armoured door with several thick electrical cables pressed into its outer walls, which connected to a series of cameras throughout the cell and the corridor. A security office. A good target to neutralise, she thought.

She felt the eyes of the captives land on her, slowly at first, but then a disinterested hush fell over the crowd. She stared back. She could feel the wide variety of emotions of the prisoners as their eyes rested on her person; fear, at first - of course, these people would have been expecting a Vora Baron, and in the gloom, she could imagine that her formidable size and strength gave her the same, rough appearance. Their brows lightened though as Seeth didn't move, didn't react, and they came to see her more clearly. She did not match their understanding of a Baron. As their curiosity bubbled, Seeth raised a finger to her lips, and then pointed at one of the cameras. They followed her movement closely, and stared at the camera for a second before realising what she meant. They fidgeted about, and made their gaze more subtle.

"She'll probably die, like the others..." One of them whispered.

"I think she's alone too. She'll end up on a skewer, with the rest of us." One answered, a cackle escaping through his dried lips.

There were a handful of prisoners, she noted, that hadn't even looked up at her. Their eyes were inhumanly wide and bloodshot, staring straight down at the floor. Their breaths came heavily from their chests. Their faces were gaunt and grey, their limbs skinny and skeletal, malnourished and starved. Their stomachs, however, told a different story. Each prisoner was carrying a heavy-looking and bloated pot-belly. As she examined their condition, a memory suddenly popped into Seeth's head, of when she'd been a child and first learnt what fois gras was.

She shuddered.

Seeth walked slowly over to the security door and tugged on its thick metal handle. She was surprised to feel it move on its hinges. She pushed the door open slightly and, peering inside, confirmed her suspicion. It was just a small security office, filled with monitors and staffed by a single guard, who was leaning back heavily in an undersized chair.

Her first Vora Baron.

A wolf - he was a portly creature, somewhat short but heavy with fat and dressed in cured leathers - was staring at the screens with a bored, vacant expression, A single line of dribble oozed from his mouth. On his control panel rested a metal cleaver and a severed leg, half eaten at the calf.

Seeth slowly inched the door open, keen to keep her advantage... when the door creaked. The wolf casted a confused glance behind him as a blur of purple blur flew into the room. He bolted to attention and went for his cleaver but Seeth had already wrapped her arm firmly around his neck, pulling him away from the controls and ensuring his voice was muffled. Her arms were like steel around his throat as she lifted him cleanly off the floor by his neck. He scrabbled at her arms desperately, his cheeks bulging as the pressure around his head increased...

His struggle ended as abruptly as it had started, punctuated by a sharp snap.

She lowered his limp body to the floor and dumped his corpse in the corner of the room, shutting the door behind her and looking over the monitors closely. Something caught her attention immediately. One of the cameras showed a much larger, open butcher's room than the one she'd previously been in, filled with several tables that had been modified with restraining equipment. The room looked like it had been a small hangar before the Barons had gotten hold of it, likely for launching shuttles or fighters, but now it hosted row after row of restrained nomads, strapped down to the tables with a... significant amount of room between each one. The far wall looked to be a giant, retractable security door, with a ruby red alarm above it and several bright yellow warning signs welded to its metallic exterior. Spray painted in blood red writing, the words 'STARVING DOGS' had been crudely spelled out just under the warning signs.

Two huge Vora Barons were wandering around the room, looking over their captives with a mouth-watering glee.

Both of these men were giants, around Seeth's height, round and thick. Their stomachs jiggled with every heavy step they took. Their barbarian attire allowed their ample bellies plenty of room to swell and grow with each feast. One was a half-breed of serpentine origin, with a smooth, reptilian head but walking heavily on poorly-grooved hooves. The other looked to be a boar, with thick tusks protruding from his jawline.

Their hands teased at the knives and axes that hung from their belts, occasionally bending over to taunt and prod at the terrified nomads, cackling madly.

Seeth turned her attention away from the monitors for a moment. A brief glance at the map layout conveniently pinned to the wall revealed that the hangar was just beyond the cellblock, protected by another thick, metal door.

She felt a surge of adrenaline at each of the Baron's unwieldy movements, flaunting their power as they threatened to butcher another nomad, with a twiddle of their chunky fingers. She needed to act now, or she'd be watching the slaughter happen, live.

The corridor was still empty and she rushed over towards the hangar. The door had a glass panel which she could bend down and peek through. The snake, who was closest, currently had his back to her. The boar, however, was facing towards her door, on the other side of the room.

There was a fire extinguisher unit installed in the wall beside the door, solid, heavy and thick with dust. Quickly she grabbed it in one hand, then unsheathed her axe and held it in the other, close to the blade.

The snake suddenly seemed to spot something. He lunged towards a restrained young girl, who began kicking and screaming in her bonds as the Baron pulled what looked like a large blob of orange gel off of her. He teased the nomad with it, shaking the blob over her face before raising it high into the air, opening his jaw wide and threatening to drop it into his mouth.

That's enough. Time this lot took on someone their own size. Axe gripped in one hand, fire extinguisher in the other, she pushed open the door and surged across the room.

"Pupa!!! Leave her alone! She never hurt anyone!" The nomad was screaming, tears streaming down her face as the Baron let his tongue flop loose off his maw, dangling the orange slime over his vacuous mouth.

In the blink of an eye, Seeth had driven the blade of her axe straight into the skull of the snake in a single, vicious slam, splitting his skull with ease. In a smooth, follow-up motion, she swung the extinguisher and flung it across the room, in a perfect straight line at the boar.