Jehovah Jireh

[Ardgal Raxis]

Jehovah Jireh--God will Provide​

The general felt his breastplate launch into place with a soft hiss. The power armor hummed to life through the servos within it. The two soldiers move behind Ardgal, each gripping a side of his back plate and carefully easing it into position. The pronged needles jutted out into his spinal implant. A surge of pain tore through his body but just for a moment. In its wake he could feel the armor on him like a second layer of skin and muscle. The power of the God of War flowed through him once more. The two soldiers bolted his jump pack on his back, with its built in missile launcher. Over each foot they clamped his magno-grip boots and on each thigh the strapped his armor plates. Ardgal extend his arms regally and over each hand they strapped his gauntlets, crushgaunts. On the left was a built in grapple hook. On the right was a flame thrower.

Their work completed the two soldiers took steps back in reference, kneeling before their lord. "Have we pleased you, oh God and King?"

Ardgal motioned to them to rise, he was fully armored save his helmet in his Ardgal'gam. It was a terrifying if not fully bone-shaking sight to behold. "You have done well, my followers. Go and join the others, blessed with my honor."

"Thank you, oh king," the two intoned before rising and leaving their deity in the flesh.

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

Ardgal holstered his twin blaster pistols to his belt, adding in a string of grenades and explosives and his Ardgal'kal. In his arms he gripped his disruptor rifle and gave a quick pre-battle check.

He made his way out of his private quarters into the officer's debriefing room. When he entered the twelve officers rose in respect, Ardgal waved for them to be seated, "Peace be with you."

"And with you, Our Lord," they replied as they sat.

"Our battle plan is simple, I trust you all looked over your debriefing before the meeting." he tapped a button on the conference room table. A hologram of a space station appeared. "A job has presented itself to acquire goods and in return we will be paid in tech, plunder and the bounty itself. I've found a suitable target in the outer rim along Tatoowine's orbit. This is a black-on-black tech station that develops and sells arms to the highest bidders."

"Sir, this sounds like someone we would be aligning with and hiring rather than the hostile take over prescribed."

"Ordinarily, yes," Ardgal admitted, "But they crossed a line when they began abducting locals and experimenting their goods on them. For this we will bring them to justice. The local government isn't strong enough-or uncorrupt enough--to do anything about it. We will end this. Tonight."

"Of course, sir."

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

A light flashed on the console, indicating they were coming out of hyperdrive, on their destination. The general inclined his head at his officers, "You gentlemen know what to do from here. I trust you will make your god proud."

"Of course sir, We will fight for the glory of your name, and to create another great moument to your holy and justified name," the ranking officer promised with a zeal.

"Go with honor to act in my name," he dismissed them.

A few moments later, Ardgal stood on the board of one of the cloaking boarding shuttles. To all accounts, scanners, and transponders the ship these drop shuttles were riding on was just another heavy transport, moving goods to Tatoowine. Except--for the troops they were ferrying. And the stealth drop ships that were waiting. The Annihilators cut though the icy depths of space, undetected. Ardgal watched as his men around him made their last minute weapons checks and said their hushed prayers--to him. But all of that stopped when the boarding shuttles locked onto the hull of the massive space station with a clunk. The plasma cutter began to carve through the durasteel hull with a gorgeous purple glow, carving their pathway.

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

At last the cutter finished its round. Ardgal stormed forward with the grandiosity of a god ascending his throne. Making an entrance was all about presence, and the entrance made was half the battle. With a heavy slam from his foot, Ardgal kicked the hull in. It went caving back, clattering across the bulkhead of the space station with a resounding, ear-shattering announcement; the god of war had arrived. The general stepped down with regalia into the station. Several of the dumbfouded guards watched before he began firing, sending two of them out of this world. As the rest of the Alpha Company within the boarding shuttle began to pour out into the passage, the guards remembered they had rifles, but by then it was too late--their lives were forfeit.

The other seven annihilators arrived, spilling their contents into the station. A full fledged fire fight began, as the guards sought to repell their invaders and the Alpha company proved they would not leave. They were fighting from both ends of the hall, this was not a good position, Ardgal knew, and if they didn't move fast, they would be stuck here.

"Come on," he ordered, taking command of the situation, "On me, soldiers, cutting though the north passage, press into the tech bay after me."

His troops began to form up after Ardgal as he stormed through the halls. Yes, the firefight continued, but he was pressing into it, and as he did, the enemy began to pull back under the weight of the 400 members of Alpha Company. Those behind found themselves rushing head first--into blaster and gun fire.

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

"Close the blast doors, close the--" one of the soldiers shouted in a typical, last ditch effort before Ardgal snuffed his life out.

The general loved war. He loved to met out justice and bring peace to the galaxy. He took a step forward to round the corner when--yep, the guard's last request was fulfilled. A heavy pair of durasteel doors slammed shut on his face. From behind the enemy pulled back and another set of doors sealed them off from the fight. Ardgal didn't have time to feel suspicious before the sound of ventilation and air being sucked from the area filled his ears.

"Well played," he muttered to himself, tapping his rifle grip. In a few minutes without some quick thinking, this battle would be over.

"Demolitionists, I need this door down," Ardgal announced over their comm.

Two armor clad explosive junkies stepped forward, "We are here, sir. We will make you proud, our lord. Nothing shall stand in the way of God's army."

The general stepped out of their way and let them get to work doing the two things they loved best; playing with explosives and working for him. After a minute, the two P-6 charges were set.

"Clear the zone," one of them shouted.

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

The door went up with a tremendous explosion as the durasteel was evaporated into atomized liquid. Yep, that was how you do it alright. Ardgal raised his rifle over his head with a cry of victory and charged ahead through the smoldering blast zone. Beyond it was a hallway juncture. The mass of gathering guards there looked with abject shock as the general who should have been dying amid gags and pleas for life was storming them with his host of heaven hot on his heels. Yeah, that was a lot of h's alright.

Blaster shots grazed his armor as the terrified guards put up a vailent defense. The general whipped his left arm wide, his Ardgal'Kal sprang to life in his hands, the blade extending into one of the nearby one's chest. He whipped it out with a flick of his wrist, ending the man's life. Turning, he sliced through another's throat, sending the man to his knees, life draining out of him. A turn and a diagonal cross-cut send another clattering to his knees as the body fell in two halves. All around Ardgal the battle had descended into a melee frenzy of wild proportions. It was chaotic and adrenaline fueled.

"Run, run for your--" screamed a man before Ardga's blade ran him through.

With his other hand the general brought the butt of his rifle into his comrade's head, sending the body reeling away. Charging forward, he shoulder-slammed a third back. The power armor amplified the attack, crushing bones. With a scream of fear and bravery, a fourth emptied his rifle into Ardgal's body too fast for him to dodge. The general was sent stumbling back with the force of the attacks. He stopped slamming against he wall and out of breath. The young man gave a look of surprise and pride; had he just slain the beast? The monster? Ardgal shook it off, his helmet locking on the youth. Terror seized the young man as he realized what was coming. Ardgal took his rifle in both hands and dispatched him with a single shot to the head.

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

"Are you alright, sir?" One of the nearby soldiers asked, placing a hand on Ardgal's shoulder.

The general bobbed his head, he could already feel the bruises on his Fierrerro body. Yes, even with vong-shaped supernatural healing, he was going to be feeling that for a while, "Your god marches on. Ever on."

"Honor to your name, oh lord, may we all ascend to your level of toughness," the soldier said with genuine awe.

"Forward, unto victory!" Ardgal declared, retrieving his sword.

A cry of delight rose from his men and he once more lead them down the hall like a wave of victory. Out of the doors on either side beings jumped out, trying to, well, Ardgal wasn't sure if it was bravery or foolishness that motivated their doomed attacks. In the end each brief milisecond encounter went about the same--a being would jump out without armor, an Alpha Company member would shoot them dead, and they would clatter to the ground amid blood and gore. Armor versus no armor won every time. Rifle versus improvised weapon won every time. Organized army versus sporadic... ok, you get the idea.

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

The general came to a vault like door, sealed with apparently several locks of intense design. He let his scanners do a once over of this thing--it was going to take a lot more explosives than was safe to attack this thing in a space station. If they used the six P-6s that were required they would probably punch a hole through into space and lose what they came here for. This thing was clearly not going down to small arms. The closest thing he could come to find for what this was could be a re-enforced blast door with triple redundancy locks.

"We need someone," Ardgal announced, "A prisoner. I need one for this door."

A squad known as the Hellsprites took a step forward and bowed eagerly, "We accept your order, our lord, and will bring you a prisoner."

The four men sprinted away. A few minutes later they returned with a cowering middle-aged doctor. Ardgal's facial recognition identified him as a "Doctor Blood", a man who was known for his brutality in designing biological weapons that were only slightly more unethical than they were deadly. But here, now, all the power had been taken from him and the pudgy man was all but in tears for his life.

"You have committed multiple atrocities across several worlds," the general said gravely, "Anyone who has any ethics, morals, or code would be glad to see you go. So I will offer you a deal; open the door and I will not turn you into the local authorities."

"Y-y-you will let me go?" Doctor Blood asked hopefully.

"I will not turn you in," Ardgal repeated, "do we have a deal?"

The man's mostly bald head nodded in delight before he scurried to the door and punched the code in.

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

The door's locks unlocked with several loud clunks as the metal bars that had barred the way slid open. The door hissed as equilibrium between what lay beyond and this passage was reached. Doctor Blood looked back at Ardgal with a delighted face, "I did as you promised, now keep up your side of the deal."

"You are right," Ardgal nodded his head, "I am not going to turn you into the authorities." He paused, "I have weighed your heart, Doctor, and found you lacking. You have committed murder, patricide, matricide, genocide, and fatricide. You have committed illegal testing of miltiary weapons on civilians along with multiple accounts of domestic assault," His blade flashed, stabbing the doctor through the chest, the man's eyes filled with horror as his life drained away, "A quick death is a luxury that you do not deserve. But to you, I do give for I am merciful."

The body clattered to the ground and Ardgal stepped over it into the vault. Here was what they came for. Tech supplies, weapons in development, advanced studies, blueprints, and all sorts of other funky gizmos were here. And Ardgal was here to make good on it.

"Take it, all of it," what their client didn't need, he would sell, use, or destroy as appropriate. It would help to cover the remaining costs of this expedition. And, per the laws of war, was legitimate.

A thorough cautious, and meticulous looting occured, by the time the Alpha Company was done, it was impossible to find that this empty room had been a weapon development center.

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

Ardgal strode through the battle grounds as the conqueror he was. Lights flickered, fires burned here and there. Bodies lay scattered throughout in twisted poses of death where the god and his men had lay them to rest. A few who had managed to survive were retreating. According to the rules of engagement--that they were retreating, unarmed, and they were not on his authorized list of beings to kill--Ardgal and his men refrained from taking them out. He was a man of order, not chaos.

The testaments of the justice he had served lay scattered around them. He didn't feel pride, but something close to it. Self-respect.

His men loaded their gathered supplies on the boarding shuttles before clamboring on board as well. The general was the last to get on, each soldier he gave a complement or a good word. It was a time consuming process, but they were family and it was good for moral. That was worth more than all the gold in the world. And besides, there was no enemy left to harm them.

When all was ready, the boarding shuttles landed on Tatoowine and were stored once more back on the heavy transport. After three days on world of mingling, blending in, acting natural, and being a part of the populace, he and his men left. Stories would tell of a god of war who had stormed the station. A being fIece, strong, and invincible but noble, good and honorable. So the rumors of the god of war started, and his cult had their ground begun.