The Grand Battle S2G1! [Round Six: Eddelin City]

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

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Xadrez was motionless for some time, his analytical mind churning furiously over those last anarchic minutes in Alpha Complex. Evaluation complete, with what only one as well-acquainted as Kracht could've sensed as a dejected air about him, the spirit adjusted the outer ring of pieces, nudging across the Observer's central chunk of Alpha Complex to account for Kracht's over-handed skullduggery in the last round. Xadrez had never been one to let personal grievance get in the way of his analysis, but in saying that, he had always been one to retain constant distance. The whole situation was truly distasteful, and even Arkal could gauge the tactician's mood as it flicked off two bits of dissected sentry turret, shifting a cleanly cleaved motherboard that was Maxwell over a bit.

When it became apparent the smith wasn't leaving, Xadrez mulled the question over.

Where and when specifically even with my intellect I'll concede it got rather chaotic

It was supremely difficult to tell if the chessmaster was being facetious. Arkal decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. "Weo. In the corridor."

The bishop might've made a noise like a sigh as Xadrez moodily ran the knife over his board again, annotating all the data secured in the last round. The obsidian was getting pockmarked with the spiritual shorthand for "subjective", and it was doing little to improve the tactician's mood. After a pause, and a mantid officer executing a strange shuffle on the other side of the street as he considered approaching the two aliens, Xadrez hissed in a frustrated rush:

There was nothing left to do every junction every minute wasted with that terminal every dead Rillian he knew all of it

I admit the Rillian was my test I needed to know how drastic things had to get to discomfort him and my calculations indicated his death would cause you humans the least grief save the Ovoid and the anomaly whose resistance to laser fire I had little promising data for

Arkal frowned at the humanoid, whose thoughts had descended into a maelstromic stream of vitriol at this whole predicament. If it weren't for the idle nagging in Arkal's head that killing the person least likely to be missed was still technically cold-blooded murder, he would've felt a little sorry for the spirit. Xadrez's thoughts finally quietened into whispery regrets; the smith experienced this with the accompanying mental image of Kracht grabbing the duo's chessboard while Xadrez's back was turned and bludgeoning the tactician over the head with it.

Physical impracticalities of this scenario aside, Arkal finally had an inkling of just what Xadrez's problem was. Unsure how to follow up this revelation, he finally ventured, "So what's your plan for this round, then? Shoot more innocents until you catch Kracht by surprise, hm?"

The tactician seemed to consider it for a worryingly long time. No

Some other plan will be needed

but one less rash

things became too hectic, I did not fancy the shapeshifter's chances when co-operation and keeping together were optimal

but even then

Again, there was something both impossible to ignore and downright sinister about the tactician's gloomy tones as it talked about predicting death, but Arkal had heard what he needed to. He shrugged.

"Right. I'm going to explore this town; see if I can't find anything useful before it becomes an all-out war. As long as your scheming doesn't get us dragged somewhere else, then by all means go proceed."

Arkal stomped off, his considerable build taking up a fair share of the walkway and leaving a trail of shunted, irked Sk'vanians in his wake.

Xadrez fidgeted sulkily with his board for a few moments more, then decided to find a place yielding more information. Curiously, there was no helpful signage indicating the route to the main buildings, or maps. The tactician pondered this for a while, and eventually decided with all the weird looks he was getting that visitors to the island were rare. Still, no hostili-

"What're you?"

The tactician looked down from his meandering study of the city's spires to see a rotund little beetle-boy staring up at him. His custodian, a stately longicorn with some kind of unstrung, crystal-powered composite bow on her back chirruped a gentle rebuke, though she was staring as unabashedly as her son was. Unable to take a hint, he squealed,

"Ooh! You're a despicable Cyk'nl sabotage weapon, aren't you!?"

The way the phrases rolled off the youngster's pincers immediately dredged up recent memories of "filthy mutant scum". Xadrez gave the now-slightly suspicious mother beetle a quizzical look and a shake of the head, though it failed in shaking off the look she was giving. Her jaws flickered, and the tactician felt a tickling sensation which eased as soon as the beetle stopped her low chattering. Still looking at the admittedly strange sight with suspicion, the longicorn tugged on her boy's hand. [background=#FFBFAA:1o1vuysx]"I'm pretty sure it's not, dear. Now come along, or you'll be late for your archemage practice."[/background:1o1vuysx]

The pair circumnavigated the black disc, the boy still staring at the spirit. Xadrez stared right back.