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Nikolai Grosha

0 · 1,264 views · located in Terra

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by AzricanRepublic

So begins...

Nikolai Grosha's Story

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Nikolai Grosha , in the flesh and blood. His location unbeknown to all of Wing City; even from the twelve man team of Red Halo mercenaries he had been leading in the fights across the entirety of the city against the most recently arrived Private Contractors whom called themselves "Tech Ron". The Battle Rifle nestled easily into Nikolai's shoulder as he leaned the scope of the rifle from side to side of the alleyway; once again the lone sniper, he would be nearly invisible -- both optically and physically, being only himself. Beside him, how ever, the small computer dish next to him was scrambling many forms of relays and waves as Nikolai began to search for any targets.

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Nikolai Grosha shuddered lightly as he exhaled; the small holographic cross hair slowly drifting away as the contractor, identified as one of the Aschen PMC's recently brought in to 'contain' the Red Halos, trudged down the street alongside a bulldozer as the rumble of explosions from a quarry resounded through the city streets. He could have easily fired and claimed a man's life -- but that would have been counterproductive, to simply squash one cockroach when ten more could easily take its place once Nikolai had revealed himself. No. He would have to wait, to let them present a situation to him.

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Nikolai Grosha shrugged as he once again exhaled; having trained the cross hairs on two contractors conversing outside of the bar nearby a parked car, enjoying a cigarette. The Halo was allowed a soft smile to crease his lips, the fact that they assumed they were remotely safe enough to partake in a smoke break should have been excuse for Nikolai to fire on one of them -- perhaps not to kill, but a simple wounding shot through the arm or abdomen. Nikolai cocked his head to the side as he observed the small wire that lead from a camera built within the scope to the solid-drive connected to the nearby computer. A good marksman can not only kill, but observe as well.

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Nikolai Grosha let his finger slip of the trigger slowly as he sensed movement; his neck pivoted as his shoulders slugged the cumbersome weapon to the side. Following the two contractors slowly his finger slowly began to squeeze the mechanism -- he did not fire, however. Had he chosen to a powerful 10 millimeter projectile would have easily torn through whatever armor the man was wearing and incapacitated his friend in front of him. The large conductive rails of the Scatterran rifle whirred lightly as Nikolai slowly returned to his passive state.

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Nikolai Grosha retained his swiveling location as he monitored the contractors as they escorted the bulldozer; if need be, Nikolai could have easily eliminated two, possibly three, of the men before finally being discovered. The hulking compensator on the front of the barrel hub would have been enough to secure the privacy of his location well after his first shot. That, and provided his distance from the window and his angle would have shrouded what little light would be generated from firing the weapon. Nikolai was slightly offset by the powered armor, however. While the Scatterran rifle could still easily defeat most armor throughout the Multiverse, remaining true to the myth that Scatterran weaponry was far superior to many, it became a point where more than one round would be necessary. Something Nikolai would not be willing to risk.
"Labutchka -- they're walking tin cans." Nikolai muttered to himself.

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Nikolai Grosha smirked brightly, the amplified zoom of the scope giving Nikolai a first hand glance at the obvious rules of international law that the Tech Con contractors were breaking. It was more than obvious from the most recent upheaval that the odds were stacked against the Aschen presence on Terra -- their "Private Contractors" strolling throughout the city with weapons brandished and armor shining only served as more indication that the Aschen had hardly left the planet, which is just what Khariq and those behind Dark Dawn were hoping. With his video time almost up, Nikolai smirked brightly as he cancelled the power to the camera, the device dying with the glimpses of obviously unauthorized Aschen equipment strolling through the streets of Wing City as if they owned the place. With his duty done, Nikolai simply vanished into the citizenry of Wing City hoisting a heavy backpack and a small laptop bag at his side.

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Nikolai Grosha huffed, a soft smirk breaking his face as he leaned himself into the alleyway and brandished the MR-2 as the several Halos beside him entered the alleyway behind him. Most of the Scatteran mercenaries brandished heavier weaponry than Grosha's MR-2; often packing Kalico Arms HL-R rifles and GR-5 Assault Rifle. In the distance the radio chatter was heavy as the some forty Halos maneuvered in the alleyways. Concealed from sight as they approached the bar.

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Nikolai Grosha was at the tip of the spear; the hulking Oriyak crouched and huddled against the wall as his squad straddled the approach to Gambits -- several "listening posts" solidified to radio towers atop buildings provided an all-too present "ear" for the insurrectionists to listen in to key conversations on the street. The most recent exploit being the discussion between ARMAX, an unrecognized ally, and Tech Con contractors. Nikolai remained silent as he eavesdropped onto the discussion -- his weapon locked and readied to deliver a stream of fire if need be.

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Nikolai Grosha huddled his weapon closer to his chest as he listened intently. The Contractors words were full of thought, harboring 'terrorists' could besmirch Terra's claim for autonomy; yet the Halos had little to fear, that was until Tech Con and the Confederation ceased to be the hot topic of debate amongst the galaxy. Being a rag-tag outfit of mercenaries whom belonged to no central 'core' the Halos were unaffected by the red tape that was international policy and discussion. Anyone wishing to fight the Halos would have to bring themselves down to the level deep within the bowels of the city, something Tech Con nor the Confederation could manage.

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Nikolai Grosha cradled the rifle into his shoulder with a wide grin as the ARMAX representative spoke. While ARMAX had never formally recognized the Halos as a formal combatant within Wing City; meaning at a split second the odds could easily turn on the Scatterran squatters on this most tumultuous of planets. The Halos had to tread lightly, this was not some loosely governed Rim World on the border of Coalition space. This was one big pond; a pond that could either excel the Halos to their goal, or damn them to the history books as yet another group of fools.

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Nikolai Grosha was already pulling himself around the corner of the alleyway as the remainder of the ten man squad wormed their way throughout the darkened and damp alleyways of Wing City. The listening posts had recorded the audio conversations and had chronicled them in a series of solid-drives stored them for later observation by men somewhat more specialized than Nikolai himself. The Scatterrans were resourceful, it soon being displayed that they would obviously need to use more of that swift cunning and tact that Nikita Zharkov and Al-Majir Khariq were known for in the Rim Worlds. With that, the insurgents now slowly began to filter into the underworld of Wing City. Determined to dig their roots deeper.

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Nikolai Grosha was, to put it rather bluntly, extremely infuriated as the Oriyak drew the large blade from its sheath lashed around his back. The small circle of mercenaries occupied a small alleyway just two streets down from Gambits, in a large enclave that was secluded from the street and had been home to many of these point-blank executions before. The Aschen man lay on his knees, supported by two mercenaries garbed in their typical combat gear; the Aschens hands were bound behind his back and his face was bloodied from an extensive session with Nikolai personally. Measures had been taken and the Red Halo mercenaries, their prisoner included, were guaranteed a rather silent ceremony tonight.

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Nikolai Grosha brandished the macabre blade in the dim yellow light of the tungsten bulb; the Aschen still retained an air of pride and devotion even as the man stepped froward from the group. Zharkov gave of a sight groan as he observed the Aschen whom had attempted to infiltrate the underworld of Wing City.
"This is the one you found?" Zharkov inquired, looking over to Nikolai; whom still regarded the man with eyes of passionate hatred.
"Affirmative, Zharkov." Nikolai returned. Nikita brought one hand up to his stroke the salt and pepper growth over his chin, revealing the mauled and fractured hand -- which only boasted two fingers.
"It was indeed honorable of you to volunteer for such a plan, that is true devotion to ones race." Nikita bargained slowly, as if he was choosing his words calmly.

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Nikolai Grosha continued to breath slowly, in the hopes of calming himself. The fact that someone beneath him had allowed a man obviously Aschen to infiltrate the lower echelons of the Red Halo insurrection and feed a considerable amount of Red Halo intelligence to their Tech Con and Confederation counterparts had infuriated Grosha to the point of raw hatred. He had tortured the man for his audacity; evidence of such could be observed by the missing fingers on both of the mans hands.
"A soldier such as yourself so ... loyal to his fatherland does garner respect from me." Nikita offered once again, taking one step towards the man as the two mercenaries hauled his torso upward when he began to slouch.

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Nikolai Grosha found himself following Zharkov's words even more as he spoke to the Aschen on his knees.
"Look at where your loyalty has carried you ... witness where you are right now." Zharkov remarked bashfully, before the man finally spoke up.
"So. The worm of the Confederation speaks." Zharkov said callously, looking back toward Nikolai. The Oriyak leaned the blade upwards as Nikita took one terminal step forward as he prepared to swing the blade.
"This is not your planet. And it should not have been your grave." Zharkov muttered as Nikolai swung the blade downward, colliding with the Aschen's throat in a fatal impact and causing a slick of blood to spatter the ground before the mercenaries released the man to the ground, where Nikolai quickly slammed another strike down into the Aschens neck.

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Nikolai Grosha recoiled as the coughed reports of the mercenaries weapons peppered the corpse, or what soon would be. Red Halo had been compromised, dearly. Operation within the city itself would be limited, should the lapdogs of the Confederation dare to use the information that had been fed to them in attempts to weed out the Red Halo roots.
"This changes the dawn, only a fraction, however." Zharkov remarked while he overstepped the Aschens corpse.
"Grosha -- you are to step up attacks on any Aschens -- any -- within the city. Everytime you fire a shot, be sure it kills one of them." Zharkov ordered harshly, to which Nikolai responded with an affirmative grunt before he sheathed the blood smeared blade.

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Nikolai Grosha was in the process of vacating the alleyway before he was stopped by Ludask, the man whom had most recently been appointed to command of Red Halo forces in this sector of Wing City -- a job that had most recently been Nikolai's if it weren't for the Aschen infiltration.
"Grosha -- Khariq is weary of you, Oriyak." Ludask said warily, his Hykan features gleaming to Nikolai.
"Zharkov is not far behind. Khariq is not your commander anymore, you follow Zharkov." He threatened -- Nikolai felt rage building within him, here was this Hykan slob threatening him.
"You command a platoon now -- and I command you."

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Nikolai Grosha regarded the Hykan with passive distaste as he continued to speak.
"Don't think I want you alive any more than Khariq or Zharkov does -- you compromised everything by letting an Aschen worm into our circle." Nikolai continued to glower at the man, the Aschen had only infiltrated the section due to the incapability of an Azrican -- whom was long dead now due to a stray round in a firefight off nearby a warehouse.
"You'd best hope those Aschen kill you -- because if you're alive when this is over, I will." Ludask commented, the Hykan quickly turned on his heel and followed Zharkov into a small basement.

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Nikolai Grosha took a long drag from the rather plump cigarillo that was clasped between two coarse fingers. The smoke escaped the Oriyak in a deep flowing swirl of haze before it disappeared into the night sky and the blotching light of the small bulb hanging from the rear of the bar. Khariq stood beside the Oriyak, the Zhakistow wearing his trademark darkened aviators and shemagh slung around his neck.
"Zharkov speaks of you and your ... group like they're nothing but rats in the woodwork." The thick accent was nearly enough to confuse him, yet he had spoken with Khariq before. In the recent weeks he had been attached to the group of Halos, an elite outfit, that was under the command of Majir Al-Khariq himself.
"It was the rats in the woodwork that granted us victory on New Regali, you remember."

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Nikolai Grosha nodded to the Zhakistow formally, his bulky shoulders shrugging calmly as he regarded the insurgents words.
"It appears the rats in the woodwork squabble among themselves, though." Nikolai remarked; the statement carrying a far too true hit. However effective Red Halo remained, there was no dodging the in-fighting amongst Zharkov and several other subordinates planet-side. It had always been agreed that Zharkov was never to find himself on the front lines.
"Perhaps Zharkov knows how to move the pieces properly." Khariq said as he folded an arm across the open pit of his elbow.
"Perhaps too properly." Nikolai started coarsely before he tossed the ruined butt to the ground and stamped on it.