Remember Clarksville!

After our last mission turned out successfully, Perry gave us some time to rest, relax, and hide. I enjoyed going clubbing with Siren and even Scarlet Sprite at Club Nightstar. It was in the darkened part of New York City, giving me flashbacks to the parts of South Africa where I used to roam. They play some befok music that you can headbang, jam, or dance- sometimes in the same night. Plus they have boerwors and curry fries, which aren't easy to find- and a wonderful mix of whatever dishes they can scrounge up from this diverse place or the rest of the world. They got cheap drinks too, stuff that'll get you buzzed or high fast without breaking the bank. Still, the food and drink wasn't as good as the stuff back in South Africa - the place has a kind of magic when it comes to that, even if it attracts the worst kind of people to any position of power. When we exhausted our fun there, I took my teammates to the club across the street- the music there was a mix of latin dance and hip hop and the patrons saw us as outsiders. Naturally, there were some domkops and dronkies that wanted to start a fight, which we ended as quickly as it started. Questionite claws are quite handy for that. When that was over, I kept going but Siren was flou and passed out. Scarlet Sprite and I parted ways, but I promised to take the kid home. I wasn't going to be a loslappie, so I didn't go to anyone's place or invite them to mine. I dropped the kid off at a nearby safehouse, changed back into Klara Engelbrecht, yoga and fitness instructor.
 
It was boring to return to my shorter, less superhuman self but it meant I could hide from my enemies with a lot more ease. It was also nice to earn money and enjoy the perks of being just another a choty goty . The clients tipped well, while the studios and gyms made good on their incentives. I got a few offers from blessers, but like I said- I'm not a loslappie or blessee and I turned them down. Things were quiet for a bit, but I heard the word on the grapevine that a city in the American heartland had not only resisted the IERA and their regulations, but had actually thrown back an invasion force of IERA agents. I celebrated in private with some dagga, but my euphoria was cooled by the knowledge that those bliksems wouldn't let the poor gomgats get away with it.
 
I wasn't surprised when Perry reached out and re-activated the cell for a new mission. This time it was just me and the lighty. I use that term with affection as Siren saved my boude back in the sewers. He told us that the IERA had hit that place with a "hemoglobin" bomb, a really nasty weapon that destroys electronics and the living while leaving buildings intact. Our mission was to go to Clarksville, search the place, and return with any surviving people or technology. I knew the IERA used it in Africa, and I saw what it did to a township that harbored me after I killed that corrupt judge and his friends. Those maaifoedies are capable of real evil- it's a shame that they control the media so the normies think they're angels. Perry got us transportation over there- and after a tour through the heartland we arrived in Clarksville.
 
The place was just as devastated as the township was. The place was not only dark but strewn with dead bodies- not just the resistance fighters but civilians, innocent people who just wanted to enjoy freedom. The place not only reeked of the stench of the dead, but also of the weapon. Gaseous clouds covered the place, concealing anything beyond reaching distance. My nightvision goggles were of little use- I'll have to see if Dr. Moses can give me an upgrade- but I kept them on to protect my eyes just in case. They came in handy, but I'll get to that later. The kid noticed a survivor- a langeraad hybrid of bear and human clad in some kind of martial arts outfit. He tried some kind of paramedics, but told me that the beast was stuck in coma. He had only survived due to his regeneration. The funny thing is that he reminded me a little bit like me in some ways- strength, beastial claws, martial arts, and tall but I'm a lot less hairy. I picked up the gelukkige beer, thankfully my strength was enough to do so without slowing me down.
 
We headed into the mist, combing the town for any surviving tech or people. That's when one of the IERA agents attacked me with some kind of blinding spray. He was clad in the usual body armor and helmet that I'm familiar with- but he was better trained than the usual grunts but with the same judgement. I guess he didn't notice my protective mask, because he was horrified when he realized I resisted his attack. We got ordered to surrender by another agent, this one a pretty little bokkie flying above us. Then a burst of electricity coursed through me and Siren, but it was weaker than the projector expected. I charged forward, attacking the growing shape where it had come from. The domkop had tossed aside his armored jacket to show off his muscles as he turned into a giant crocodile, but he didn't expect me to get there so fast and shred him with my claws. I slashed him to pieces with my questionite claws, but this langeraad just barely survived but was knocked unconscious by the pain.
 
I continued fighting witht the agent who had attacked me, but he realized the errors his partner had made and kept dodging and blocking. The best hit I could get on him was only a glancing blow that left a cut in his armor. Siren disoriented the remaining agents, but I think my devastating assault on the crocodile-man demoralized them. The flying bokkie evacuated her unconscious teammate while the other one fled. Siren urged me to let them go, and with some reluctance I did. I was tempted to make sure that they suffered the fate their masters had imposed upon Clarksville, but the bokkie semed as traumatized as much as Siren at what the bomb had done. Their retreat gave us time to clear out the rest of the city, but all we could find was another superhuman- a woman with cybernetic implants. She's likely dead, but I took her with us along with her ursine comrade. We radioed to Perry for evac as it was likely that the IERA would retaliate.
 
As we headed back to NYC, a battle cry kept flashing into my mind. I'll have to tell the others to spread the word. We will make the IERA ashamed of their atrocity, and their actions will unleash an unstoppable call to vengence among the masses: "REMEMBER CLARKSVILLE!"