R. A. T. H

Twenty-Three

A silver fighter-jet hovered in place with the hum of mana before slowly descending upon soft sand. Four rods propelled out to catch it and a latch opened on top of the craft as a figure leapt out.

"There we go," The soft voice of a young female rang under the light of a silver moon as she glanced around.

The female had a head of short, brown hair and crimson eyes; wearing a black spandex akin to a one-piece swimsuit that reached her thighs which oddly matched well with her blue jacket. There was a rifle with a scope strapped to that individual's back alongside a Pulse Pistol on her right thigh and, her most prominent feature, was a right arm of metal.

"Whew." She took a deep breath at the desert around her. "Almost home, at least this place has more breathing room than a volcano. Did I actually get lucky this time?"

She had been the closest operative in the area when the order came down to her ears. The mission was supposedly simple too, all she had to do was retrieve a corpse on her way back. It seemed too good to be true but there was little reason to complain. She would get an easy bonus pay for completion.

Ahead of her was a circular domed construct of metal with a hole atop its figure. Even under the night sky, there was an orange hue that bellowed smoke. The female walked leisurely towards the place, dark boots treading sand before ending in front of its doors.

"That'll be 50 lixels."

She raised a brow at the guard.

"I'm here on official business." Her pad blinked open and the image of a black haired girl with emerald eyes projected in front of her. "Have you seen this homunculus?"

The man looked at her, puzzled. "What are you on about? Who are you?"

She sighed.

"God why are you so dumb? Don't you see my jacket?" She asked.

Her hand reached to her thigh and she slipped out the black Pulse Pistol in one smooth motion, pointing it straight at his head as the muzzle touched his skin.

"Wha—what are you doing—?!"

"I don't have time for this," She said, "Just look."

The pad blinked to another screen to show her face alongside a string of information. There were credentials the likes of which the guard had never seen before, from 'Aerial Combatant,' 'Civil Combatant,' to 'Former First Division Captain,' 'Beast Delegate' and, finally, 'Reaper.'

"Agent Shana Striker, Reaper of Alos," She said, taking the image back to the former face, "I won't ask a third time. Did you see a homunculus's corpse, that looks as such, run through here?"

At the very mention of the word 'Reaper', the guard quivered in his boots. Sweat rolled off his head and he could feel his breath struggle. 'Think think,' he thought, eyes jilting around the figure before his mind clicked.

"L-Lux! I saw Lux drag the body out!"

"Description?"

"Dirty blonde hair, blue eyes and huh. . ." He thought harder. "He's about my height and—and had goggles on his face! He's younger than me though? I think."

"You wouldn't have a video feed, would you?"

"It's a dump yard eh, mam? Nobody's placed that much attention on security, save for a guard like me." He intentionally placed respect upon her.

"Of course they wouldn't, and I'm not that old." She rolled her eyes and took back the gun. "Refer to me as miss, at least."

"Alright miss." He quickly nodded. "What—umm, may I ask what huh—what business you have with the corpse?"

"Regulations were broken, I'm to retrieve it."

"What regulations?"

She ignored him and walked as her mind wondered.

'How did an N.Series end up in a cheap dump like this?' The reaper thought, returning to her craft. It made no sense, it should have been repurposed like any other of its kind. Especially so for a body-double type.

There was also the oddity surrounding the so-called 'death' of it, it was hardly broken from what she could infer. As if someone had wanted it in the dumps in perfect condition. As if someone had ployed to bypass the laws surrounding homunculi.

'Someone definitely pulled strings.' Finding that mystery out, however, wasn't within her mission statement.

The jet hovered back into the air. The reaper placed her hand on the controls, tapped the floating panel in front and dragged the yoke. It stood in place momentarily then—broke through the dark sky, shooting straight for the city of Alos.

'I'll have to meet with those slum leaders.' She sighed. 'Bunch of stock-ups for no reason. Oh well, I might as well pick up some Rose Tea along the way~'

She laughed and placed the craft on auto-pilot, already imagining it with a pleasant smile. She clicked a device in her right ear.

"Agent Shana Striker here, reporting in. As predicted, the homunculus was taken by a scrapper—I'll be making a detour to the slums, engaging with the leaders, and picking it up before returning. Requesting two days worth of extra mission time."

"Affirmative, Striker, two days and not a second more. Don't go on a detour again, okay?"

She laughed. "That's a bit harsh, Arthur, I don't do that every time."

"You almost caused my demotion just two missions prior," The male voice from across the communication-link was not amused by her defense, he sighed, "Just pay attention to the time, please."

She pursed her lips. "It's not my fault I ran into a group under attack, what was I supposed to do, let them be devoured by beasts? That's just cruel."

"Honestly, I would."

"You're cold, too cold."

"I don't care, did you catch what I said? Two days and not a second more!"

The girl hovered over the slums, descending as sand danced below her.

"Roger and out."

"You better keep your words you little shi—!"

She clicked the com off.

"Language, Arthur, language."

She laughed, hopping down from her vehicle.

Shana Striker has a short-story up on my profile about her called 'Striker: a R. A. T. H short story' if you wish to glimpse into her past.

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