Description: Among the carrion fields surrounding the site of Vega's climatic nuclear battle, the Ikari elites Whip and Faolan run across a woman who has lost everything. The Ikari are combing the battlefield for survivors; Hunter is looking for one in particular. After a tense standoff, some agreement is reached, and the group split up to comb the dead in some morbid business. Only time will tell whether it is a worthwhile endeavor, or whether there is nothing to be found on the battlefield but misery and death.
China. Or what remains of the dignity it once had.
A half mile from the impact crater left following Vega's supposed final stand, an unmarked jeep springs from sodden hillocks, veering in, out and even over the strewn collections of the dead. Shadaloo's insane dictator spared nothing and no-one, slaying NATO troops by the thousand as he awaited the true heroes of the hour. It's down to those of glorious nature to reconnoitre the ruined site in search of survivors, and worse; in search of those among the survived who may still pose a threat. To find them and destroy them.
It's filthy, nasty work, the kind of thing that pays well even in the shaken economy.
The Ikari Soldiers may not do everything for money alone, but there's no hiding that they are paid; this is their job. Killing may be their business, yet so is cleaning up after death. It's why they've been sharing jokes on their way here, why even as the environment around has grown ever bleaker, they're forced to find some small modicum of pleasure in the actions they perform. To do otherwise is to go mad.
As the vehicle judders to a halt atop a low rise, the passenger door opens, and out steps Whip; her shoulder bandaged beneath her khakis, shattered during the battle in Iraq, and a lesser but still nagging wound taken to her gut. But she's not focused on herself, or her injuries. A giger counter strapped to her hip is gurgling away, reading low levels at present, enough that she worries not for any particular protection - they're far enough away from the blast, for now. She raises a pair of binoculars to her face to look toward the site of Vega's last stand, expression relaxed until she truly takes in the scene.
The killing fields are slick with rain, downpour after torrential downpour hammering from the heavens in the wake of the disaster that's so recently taken place here. Though it's since lessened to a gentle patter, the ill weather has left in its wake ground slick and muddied, the piles of dissarayed corpses barely recognizable as human now - the combination of rot and storm churning them to an indistinct mulch. It's the scent of the former that's most overpowering, a rich, earthy thing that turns the stomach. At least, the stomach of those not adjusted to it... the stomach of people who haven't smelt it a thousand times...
A lot of terrible things happen in war. Some of them are necessary.
That doesn't make it any less horrible.
"I'm not seeing anybody," Whip calls back to the car, her voice carrying a soft note that speaks of her respectful sadness. Pragmatic she may be, but not without empathy. Not without a heart. "There may not be much we can do here. The wreckage is a mess, and the bodies..." A frown furrows her brow, appearing with too many lines for her youth. Like all of the Ikari, she's seen too much. "There's so many. We weren't given a count. If anyone survived this, they could be buried under--" She breaks off, shaking her head, able only to sigh.
Whip isn't the only one coming along for the ride to help with the cleanup. While Iraq has been taken care of Leona stayed behind with some of the Ikari that Faolan had been traveling with to make sure everything is properly taken care of and any remnants of enemy forces are flushed out. Hopefully China itself doesn't have too many enemies still lurking about through the country or they have the bad luck of running into Vega himself. Even if it was a nuke the Irishman figures there is no way a Big Bad like Vega would be killed by such a thing.
He is pretty heavily bandaged from where many bullets were pulled from him as well as to keep the wounds reopening from where he got ran over by a damn transport vehicle. He sits up a bit more to look off in the distance and doesn't even both reaching for the goggles. "I dunno even what we are supposed to do. I doubt there is much of anything there really for cleanup. We're soldiers. Not some random people that clean up nuclear mishaps." he says with a bit of a grump. He still seems to be in a bit of a bad mood from that last battle.
It is pretty understandable that the soldiers wouldn't see Hunter at first. The young woman has dressed herself to blend in with the terrain; her blonde locks are slicked with mud and rain, her features painted with moss and dirt. Her habitual clothing is swathed underneath a wrap of sturdy cloth, waterproofed on the inside, and the hood pulled up to keep the worst of the weather off her back. She's even secured some 'radiation pills' with which to combat the effects of the deadly terrain. It might not be much, but it might help, who knows?
Hunter has seen a great deal of death, and the young woman making her way across the fields of corpses does so as though it is just another place. It... is unpleasant, yes, but these are soldiers, not civilians. It is hard to feel the same gut-wrenching response amongst these particular bodies as she would amongst a slaughtered village. She does not have time to feel her sorrow. She has come here for a reason; abandoned her post for a reason. She has not done it simply for sightseeing.
Her senses are quite keen, however, and, when she becomes aware of the car, and the people, her reactions are instinctive. Her bow is in her hands, and an arrow drawn back almost instantaneously. Crouching low amongst the corpses, heedless of the smell and the rot, she has to choose... safety, or risk?
In the end, she has to assume these people probably *aren't* Shadaloo. The uniforms are unlike those she's seen, and what would they be doing, snooping around this place if they were?
"FRIEND OR FOE?"
"We do what we're ordered to do..."
Whip's heart isn't really in that statement, words falling distance from the lips that utter them. It's a wonder they don't simply float away on the warm, foul breeze wafting through the abandoned battlefield; but where Faolan is irritable, she's simply lost in contemplation for a few instants, scanning the horizon beyond the impact crater almost idly. A second sweep with the binoculars is slower than the first, echoing her thoughtful mien as she lingers from pile to crater, hill to distant treeline...
The one thing she doesn't see is Hunter, until it's too late to beat her to the draw.
Her lenses are instantly abandoned, simply dropped as she too acts on instinct, hand halfway to the hilt of her polished Desert Eagle before her gaze settles upon the stealthy Thai. Realization sets in that she can't hope to outmatch her speed; nobody would be stupid enough to threaten armed soldiers with a bow unless they were skilled enough to have a hope of using it. If she doesn't, the pair are under no threat anyway. Besides; their mission is to locate survivors and eliminate only that which needs must. Hunter doesn't look like Shadaloo.
And she's not Chinese.
Whip's hand hovers frozen in the air, her gaze meeting the other woman's as she answers.
"That depends on you. We're Ikari. Were you here for this battle?"
There is a light tch in response after the line about doing what they are ordered to do. He knows that is true, but ath the same time it doesn't mean he has to like it. He has seen enough death as of late and while it has never really bothered him, being around corpses day in and day out for a few weeks is kinda wearing thin. On the plus side the smell of decay isn't as stomach churning as of late. His nose is just getting too damned used to it all.
He isn't near as quick as Whip in movements when he hears the shout from Hunter. His hand just tightly clenches his bata as his eyes dart about and he gets ready to kick open the door on the transport to hop out. "Hopefully friend..." he grumbles as a bit of energy crackles along the bata in case things get nasty. The woman behind the shout must not really know who she is dealing with if she is on her own. If there are others they are damn well hidden at that. For now he lets Whip handle the talking and he just remains ready to spring into action if he must.
"No."
Hunter's mind runs as she cycles through options. The name is familiar, though she can't place any faces to it. They *aren't* Shadaloo is the important thing, though. Shadaloo have rapidly run through their friends, and any they have left are likely to be shooting first and asking questions later. Hunter lowers her bow, letting the string relax, though she keeps the arrow strung. Ikari is probably some sort of fighter thing. Tch.
Hunter doesn't move closer, but she doesn't retreat, either. Instead, she just meets Whip's eye. "I came from Thailand." She says, looking up at the sky, and all that rain. Awful, just awful. "You're Ikari, huh? I'm just a hunter. Someone important was here. I need to determine whether he's alive or dead."
Which is true multiple times over, thinking about it. But there's one man in particular she needs to either find alive, or bury somewhere he would never be found. Thailand isn't going to fall down without her there to look after it, but who knows what would happen to the population if it turned out that Sagat was undeniably killed in the battle? After so much death she is not sure their spirits could take it.
When the Thai woman releases the bowstring, so does Whip shift her hand away, though she remains wary enough not to shift stance notably - both arms slipping naturally to her side but some ready tension remaining in her frame. Her boots scuff just lightly through the mud as she loosens one leg, held at an awkward angle following the unexpected interruption; but it's non-threatening. Her gaze stays even, too, almost unblinking.
"Ikari," she confirms with a faintly phrased nod, her rain-damp hair bobbing against her face, "We've been fighting, but not here. The man you're referring to is the one who started all this," her tone is businesslike but not too brisk, keeping her words evenly paced and not totally void of empathy. 'Just a hunter'. That phrase sticks in her mind. Nobody so stealthy, turning up in a place like this, is 'just' anything. That she would say that certainly gives away some clue to her character. "But if you're looking for vengeance..."
The former assassin is no mind-reader, and she guesses wrong.
"I'm afraid we're going to have to stop you. The man who did all this--" She rushes a bit there, trying not to glance away from Hunter as she gestures about the area with one hand, the motion smooth and open, "He's dangerous. Too dangerous for one woman, no matter who she is." Even if this mysterious blonde could take both she and Faolan, Whip knows enough about Vega to know what he's capable of, and she can tell from the undertone of the other woman that they must be talking about someone powerful. Who else could it be? "If we're going to run into him, we do it together or not at all. If you've suffered, I'm sorry, but..."
There's audible steel in her voice now.
"That's not a request."
The bow is lowered and it seems like any sort of combat at least for now is avoided. Faolan keeps his hand gripped on the bata, but the crackling of energy subsides as he reaches with his free hand to open the door to the transport and he hops out to move towards Whip. So the woman is looking for Vega, huh? He has to admit she is pretty stealthy if she even got the drop on someone so well trained like Whip, but he doubts she could really be too much of a challenge for Vega himself.
"He's a nasty one. We are actually told to avoid em at all costs unless we have a large amount of backup." There has already been too many Ikari killed and badly injured just combating his minions. Heidern would prefer not to lose anyone else now that it seems for the most part the last of the Chinese and Shadaloo forces have been for the most part weeded out. Losing two capable fighters like Whip and Faolan would be crippling at a time like this.
"I don't take orders from anyone."
The response is immediate. Hunter's voice is steady and level; it is not an emotional response, it is a statement of fact. She is not a soldier, she is not some game-piece to be manipulated and turned this way and that. The only thing she has any control over any more is herself. Where she goes, what she does, is by her own will; she will not be forced to do anything else, by anyone else.
She finally shifts her eyes from Whip, to Faolan, and gives the slightest nod of her head.
"I'm not looking for Vega, anyway." She says, "Shadaloo killed many people I cared about, and if I find any of them, then they will die. But I am not looking for Vega. He is the devil, and I am in no hurry to go to hell."
Straightening herself up to her full height, she lets the bow drop down to her side completely, now. Despite her rather harsh rebuttal to the notion that she is under their authority, her gut tells her that neither Whip nor Faolan is likely to shoot her for doing so.
"I am looking for Sagat. The Emperor of Muay Thai." Go on, try and tell her it is Adon, go on. "He came to kill Vega. I presume he has failed. If he has fallen, I must... find him."
There's a hesitation in her voice at the end, there. "That." She concludes, looking back to Whip with eyes which... are not hard, but are instead filled with an immense tiredness. Cold, empty eyes. "Is not a request."
More backup than the thousands of men who fought here, than the fighters who may be dead too...
It's quite possible there's insufficient backup in the world to finally deal with Vega.
It's something they seem to concur on, at least. As Hunter is not overtly offended by Whip's command, as she's given to trust, so too is the youngest of the Ikari elite not perturbed by the manner of the Thai. They relax their respective guards almost simultaneously, the former assassin even managing a small smile, though it's tinged with the same melancholy she can feel emanating in waves from the older woman. Even had she not admitted to the deaths of her family, and her friends, it's... not something the eyes can hide so well.
"Hell is no place for any of us," quietly agrees Whip, mentally amending a 'yet' that she wouldn't speak aloud - here, now, or perhaps anywhere outside the company of a chosen few, and they alone. Lingering on the darker depths of her personality, and of her past, is not something she's inclined toward. What she does add, when the name of Sagat is uttered, is a troubled, "Neither for him." That frown wrinkles her brown once more, her gaze gently probing Hunter's for a sign of what Sagat means to her. But she need not search hard.
"He came to kill Vega?" It's dumb to echo, she knows that, but it's uttered in frank astonishment. Sagat's been reported as taking part in the war, he's been a hero in Thailand's past, but there's a difference between the mere fact of heroism and that breed of suicidal bravery. The echo of her own statement is met with the gentlest of laughs, an outbreath coupled with a single shake of the head; she deserved that. "We've not seen him; and there's... nobody else alive out there, unless they're hidden like you were. I'm sorry." Those eyes are haunting, riveting. She's seen them before, but-- it never changes. Rather than horrify the Ikari though, they only make her want to assist, to do what she can to ease that agonizing void. Her lips pursing, she glances toward Faolan, experimentally lifting a brow, "We can help search, if you like?"
She might be the one doing most of the talking, but she's not in charge here.
Faolan is more than fine listening to the two speak. He isn't exactly sure what to say in response to most of this stuff anyways. He just lets it become a chick thing and instead seems more focused on scanning over the landscape. If Sagat was here and was killed a body that large would kinda stick out he would think. The fact at least upon a quick glance he sees nothing like a charred mountain of flesh that must be something he can offer to say to help assure Hunter that Sagat is all right. Thankfully that disaster is avoided because his train of thought is broken by Whip's looking towards him.
"Hnn?" he asks and it takes a moment for him to realize she is actually waiting for him to offer some sort of command. "Well I suppose we can help. We gotta search through the area anyways and it isn't like it would be adding extra work for us." A good thing since they aren't going to get additional pay. Hunter doesn't exactly look like the type that has money to offer them anyways. "So yeah....look for a really big guy and hope he isn't among the corpses."
Hunter hesitates for a moment. It isn't that she doesn't appreciate the offer, but she doesn't know whether she should be honest. In the end, she decides that she doesn't have a plausible reason to deny it, and she has no energy left in her for fights if they decide to take issue with her plans if the worst *has* happened.
"He'll be dead or he won't be." She says, looking out across the body-strewn battlefield. The obscene crater, like a scar in the earth, a monument to Vega's madness that may never heal. "If we find his body, the world must never know." There, she said it. "There must always be the chance that he could return if we need him. If Vega conquers Thailand again. If some other maniac does it. We'll need, hope."
Hope.
Something which, from the emptiness in her eyes to the hollow ring in her voice, and the casual way she assumes the man who took everything from her would simply destroy her if she met him... something which Hunter has completely abandoned.
There are those who would pity Whip, if they knew everything. She doesn't pity herself, because she's seen people like Hunter who've truly lost; though she may have no evidence, she knows also that she has been responsible for such suffering. Hope is a precious commodity, and something she's always had. When she believed in Igniz and his insanity, she looked forward to the future with what amounted to gladness - if only because she knew nothing else - and with the Ikari, she found something better. All this before discovering her memories, knowing she had a brother, and finding him... no, she's got no reason to feel what Hunter feels.
The echo alone tears at her heart. It's one thing to shut out these emotions in the midst of war and killing, and one thing to not linger on the memories of the lost; but moving on requires something to move toward. Without that a person has nothing, is nothing, and what then? Is death preferable? Perhaps it is.
"You deserve hope," Whip decides at last, plucking the words from her heart where her mind fails her. Compassion can be a virtue, and honesty rarely isn't. "And you'll have it. Your people, and you, whether we can locate his body or not. For every war, every conflict, there will be others there; Sagat didn't fight this battle alone, you can see that no matter which way you look. If Thailand needs it, there'll be others."
There could be them. She glances at her fellow, drawing a breath and nodding as she turns back to the Thai.
"But I understand what he means to you. Faolan, radio in, tell command what we're doing."
"...and tell them to put out a search there, too. Find Sagat."
Restore hope. Perhaps it can make up for a few of these pointless lives.
The Irishman grimaces slightly. This is some pretty deep stuff going on here and he feels awkward for not being able to perhaps grasp and understand what Hunter is going through as well as Whip is. This is why he is more than fine with looking for an excuse to get on the radio and remove himself from this rather somber exchange. "I'll just tell Gr...err Leona to keep an eye out for the big guy when she comes northwards to help up here. Will also relay things to base." he says in response and he moves back to the truck while the other Ikari that have been sitting around are finally filtering out and getting ready for a long day of searching.
Faolan for now climbs back in and reaches for the radio, his voice being muted mostly when he shuts the door and begins to contact. Of course if Sagat is alive and doesn't want to be found even an organization like the Ikari aren't going to be able to find him. He managed to fool everyone for months the last time he was thought to be dead. When he wants his presence to be known he will more than likely do it in some dramatic fashion from Faolan's guess.
Hunter nods her head. At last, she seems to trust the pair enough to put away her bow entirely. Arrow slides into quiver, and bow is slung comfortably out of the way. She dislikes feeling indebted to anyone, but... what did she expect? As much as she may despise thinking of herself as such, she is *going* to seem like a victim to these people.
"We're not going to want to linger too long near the bomb site." She says, at last. "Apparently radiation will kill you if you spend too long around it. I figure that Sagat is strong enough to last longer than us mere mortals, but who can say?" She shrugs her shoulders. "I'm not going to die for this."
Which pretty much sums it up. For all she might want to help, she's not going to put her life on the line. Not for this.
"I'll take the left. I'll rendezvous with you when I'm satisfied. Don't worry, I'll be able to find you."
And stepping backwards, she turns, her eyes sweeping over the corpses as she sets to the grisly task ahead of her.
Log created on 12:02:24 03/09/2012 by Hunter, and last modified on 14:00:43 03/09/2012.