Kitsune Akechi's Mercenary Work

--Prologue--

Kitsune Akechi, clad in red armor, dashed forward, leaving a stream of dust in his wake. A long mane of hair whipped behind him, frayed from battle but easily intact. He leapt high into the air, a silhouette against the harsh sun, then struck down with twin weapons. His swords were thin, turquoise and translucent, and impervious to weathering. Both struck the core of a metallic orb, humming with vibration, and sent the machine spiraling to the ground with trails of wires twisting behind. Kitsune landed with force at its side, and with a grim expression etched on his face, tore the paneling from his adversary. Ripping wires and chips from the center, he exposed the lacerated core and energy cells. Four of five cells were unharmed, and he pocketed these; from his arsenal he selected his blaster to obliterate the remaining core. Kitsune eased himself standing, and wearily, continued his pace. Desert wind circled him, then departed, leaving the sweltering heat unobstructed.

--Mission 1, part 1--

Three days later, Kitsune arrived at the Resistance Headquarters, where he was greeted with anticipation for news of the enemy's progress. He replied wearily, "They have advanced. In the past week in the desert, I have encountered nineteen Metal orbs, seven Dead Hands, and near a thousand Bomb Orbs. I still haven't found the source..."

"Kitsune, I don't think you need to." Tamara called from over his shoulder; she had power cells strapped on her belt like ammunition. Her blond hair bobbed as she shut the storm gate behind her. "Phoenix Maris has a power plant about a hundred miles or so west. It's your next mission, according to Izumi... Do you accept?" She questioned, and Kitsune sighed.

"Yes, I guess I have to if she chose me. When she's in charge, I wind up with the hardest missions, ones that I don't know -anyone- can do alone. Yes, I'll go... but I think I'll need at least a day to recover. I've been in close combat for a quarter of a season..." Like all the soldiers, Tamara included, their armor reflected their personalities. Kitsune's was a dark crimson, an echo of thick, boiling magma, and Tamara's a light pink. Most commonly she worked in the labs, though she was easily equipped for battle.

Kitsune showered (the armor was rust-proof) and drank his meal (a biscuit was the only solid portion; the rest was nutrition drink.) Fortunately, the Resistance provided -each- reploid with their own quarters, and no matter how cramped they were, he was grateful. Kitsune's room differed from the others in the stacks of energy cells running from one wall to the last, on shelves, beneath his bed, and stacks in the corners. The cells ran everything: lights, weapons, communication... even the transporter ran by way of the metal-rimmed batteries. The sides were glass, to reveal the remaining acid. Kitsune upended his knapsack into the far corner, straightening each cell with care. The last cell he slipped into a pocket in the wall, which powered the fluorescant lights in the ceiling.