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The Project Files
Topic Started: Mar 19 2008, 08:53 PM (1,233 Views)
~Notesurfer~
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Enigma
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Notek eyes gazed, unseeing, into the darkness. Hacking and rebuilding his way through the walls and circuitry into hologram room had taken most of the morning, but if he was correct it would all be worth it soon. Ten years ago he had abandoned the project lab, hoping never to see its antiseptic interior again. With his return came a flood of horrible memories - memories of drowning, of fighting for intellectual independence, of seeing close friends ripped apart by the complex treatments.

The projects now numbered at least 50, each one of them undergoing years of rigorous conditioning to make them slaves to the control module. Notek’s own control module was gone – he had removed it as a man whose shackles have grown too tight to be comfortable any longer. Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about the others. Some were cloned, some were kidnapped, but they were all thrown violently into a system that would spit them out as efficient super-soldiers.

It was a gross violation of free will. The ruling body that governed symbiotes like Notek took a special interest in these sorts of violations, and so he had been instructed to submit himself and discover what he could about the sinister organization behind the experiments. Even with the evidence he had assembled for the council, they had not acted on their inquiry, so he had.

The first order of business was figuring out who needed to be freed first. Because he had no idea who was closest to completion of the program he had chosen to observe the various projects training in the hologram room. This was the third day, and there were only a few projects that he had not yet seen. They were a formidable group, and Notek secretly feared that he would be unable to do anything without the help of the symbiote council.

His vision of a galaxy overrun by project super-soldiers was interrupted by the activation of a holo. A figure in dark green project armor stepped towards the center of the long hallway, which suddenly morphed into a magnificent church cathedral. Notek’s eyes roved over the thousands of intricate panes of glass that had been artificially added to the walls and ceiling, causing the entire room to shimmer like an insect’s eye. He smiled at the simulation’s familiarity – it was one that he had designed by the instruction of his project superiors. It was designed to challenge the project to the fullest of their ability.

A timer began, and Notek watched with reserved interest as the small figure ran down the hallway, carefully attempting to destroy as many of the panes of glass as possible. Notek was caught up in a philosophical reverie as he watched, as in a dream, the many great works of art that he had recreated fall to the floor in shards. One minute later the timer ended, and the green shoulders slumped slightly, presumably at their inability to aim precisely enough to beat the previous high score. It was then that Notek chose to make his entrance.

“This . . . this is the product of war.” Notek stepped forward and gently lifted a long piece of red glass from the stone floor. He turned his head suddenly and his eyes cut like lasers roving over the surface of the figure staring perplexedly from the far corner.

“So are you part of this thing, or...” the figure asked. Notek ignored his question, tossing the shard aside without any more feigned grace.

“Reset it.”

“Erm.... what?”

“Reset the simulation. I’ll show you how to beat it.” If Notek could see the eyes behind the blue visor, he would bet that they were wide with eager anticipation. The poor creature didn’t realize how exceptional he already was, didn’t see that he had already reached the pinnacle of human achievement, didn’t see that he was being pushed past that peak. With a click the church shimmered and reformed, the timer restarting. As the seconds ticked by, Notek spoke.

“You may not realize it, but you and many others are in great danger.”

0:50

“I cannot save them all, not yet. I’ll need help for that.”

0:41

“You may think I am only a figment, or a product of the hologram, but that’s not important now.”

0:35

“I ask only that tomorrow you be ready for anything.”

0:22

Notek smiled a little. “And good job . . . I’ve never seen anyone do so well with this simulation.”

0:10

As the final seconds evaporated, the green armored figure watched one of the most incredible demonstrations he had ever been privileged enough to witness. The tall, pale, man finished his monologue and knelt in the center of the cathedral. His dark jumpsuit seemed to turn into a shimmering liquid, one that consumed him entirely until only an unrecognizable lump remained. Then, the man who had addressed him exploded into a thousand pieces. The cold shards flew like bullets in every direction at once, and the room seemed to explode with glass.

The boy in armor sat speechless for several minutes, still shocked and confused at what had just transpired. Not a single window had remained untouched. Returning to the center of the room, he took a seat on the floor, cross-legged.

“Run a replay of the Simulation from index -0:10 to completion.”

He spent the next twenty minutes replaying and analyzing Notek's actions. In the end he was left only with questions and Notek’s magnificent ode to fragility.

***

Notek slowly melted through the wall of the containment area and quickly rebuilt it. Casually he strolled past the large tubes and stopped in front of the one that he had determined was his target. He read the label on the front.

P1049

With relatively little effort he hefted the lid of the coffin-like device open, and with a gasp and an escape of air the green-suited figure he had encountered before fell into his arms. It was then that an alarm klaxon began to sound.

“Uhh, I hope you can run pretty fast . . .” If the boy was saying anything, it was too faint to be heard over the alarm. His only communication was a limp-limbed attempt to gesture toward another tube opposite his. Querulously Notek read the nameplate.

P1050

“Great . . . I suppose you’ll be unconscious too when I get you out.” He was, and Notek grunted a little with the accumulated weight of two fully-armored projects. Realizing that he didn’t have much time, he took off at the fastest speed as he could muster for the exit.
Edited by Notesurfer, Mar 19 2008, 09:23 PM.
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P1049 pitched forward towards the steel decking, his momentum only being stopped by a single, if not surprisingly resolute arm. The owner of the arm mumbled something unintelligible at him, but as far as he knew, it was nothing more than gibberish.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him.

Part of him was missing.

Trying desperately to locate what he knew he should have had, he looked sluggishly around the room, and spied an eerily familiar blue and yellow armor.

There. She was in there.

Reaching into the armor mentally, he willed the other project to respond. To somehow answer him.

There was a brief moment of clarity as the connection was made. The tension of being incomplete was replaced with an alarmed confusion. One half knew what was happening, and the other struggled to fill in the missing knowledge. Data transfer was patchy and uneven, and frustration grew. Finally, it was decided that the other had to awaken to see for itself what was happening to complete the gaps.

The second stasis canister burst open, dropping P1050 into Notek's unoccupied arm. Now they could go.

The Projects made a feeble attempt at pushing out of Notek's grasp and towards the door, but try as they might, something blocked their way. a will of Iron that would not relent. Every motion the tried to commit to was canceled out by a cold intelligence. Occasionally, it would try and move them, try and make them do what they most definitely did not want, but they both responded in turn with equal force. Neither project moved more than a few lackadaisical twitches as they fought with an intangible enemy trying to force them into submission.

The battle was a stalemate. The two projects fought against their captor, held fast by shackles they could not unlock. The cold intelligence tried to be their puppeteer, but the strings were tangled and twisted. The game of tug of war was even, both sides pulling with equal strength, neither making any progress. Fatigue settled in, but the fight waged on.

Corridor after corridor blurred by, barely registering through the waves of fatigue that buffeted the two projects. Even when the walls and floor changed from metal to stone, the two barely noticed. They could feel themselves slipping, losing hold of consciousness. Ahead of them, the cloaked figure that had rescued them laid his hands on one of the rock walls. The wall dissolved away, and he dragged the two through after him, as they both drifted off into blackness.
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As the alarms activated, they brought a sudden bustle of activity to the labs.
White coats swirled and security personnel moved about radios crackling. The discord was made complete with the monotonous blare of a klaxon.
It droned on like one big insect.
However, none of the personnel seemed to notice the never ending keen.
Two projects were missing from their containment vessels and that alone was shield enough from the alarm.

A flutter and a stream of information and P1343 was active and up to date. Just moments ago he had been a sleepless standby state, completely zoned out and leaning up against the wall.
Now he was completely filled in on the happenings and walking with long strides to the Security Center.
The armored figure stood about six feet tall, his head completely encased in a helmet. The visor gave off a passive purely functional feel. The reflective surface was tinted red, a signature of a Medical project.
Grey armor covered most of his body with black full-body under armor poking out in places where the slate plating did not cover.

He stepped into the Security Center taking in the alacrity of the personnel.
Most were fully equipped and a few others were still strapping their light gear on. He made a mental check on the effectiveness of the security force. It was fare more effective than the last few drills they had conducted.

The Armored figure stood stiffly in the doorway before speaking to the assembled group.
“I want three teams. Two of four and the final team will consist of three and myself. The rest are on standby. Simple recovery, no shooting. We want them alive.”

The three teams quickly assembled and began to sweep the facility.
P1343 and his squad brought up the rear, coordinating the other two squads to hunt down the missing Specimen.
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Allow me to introduce myself, I am Doctor Buzz Killington.

P1049 awoke with a start. He was inside a perfectly spherical space surrounded by nothing but solid stone for as far as his sonar detection system could see. The gap in the rock remained unlit, the air inside stagnant and unmoving.

Directly across from him inside the gap sat P1050, breathing softly, her vitals remaining completely stable. She was asleep.

Dialing up the intensity of his highlights, P1049 glanced around the glassy smooth walls, looking for any sign of weakness or some kind of marking, but they all remained a uniform stony gray.

Finally, sure that the room was secure, P1049 Attempted to connect to the Project Network for instructions. Nothing. Dead Silence.

A wave of panic engulfed him. He was trapped in a completely empty space, with no commands, and no direction. Besides P1050, he was alone.

But at least he had her. Every ping he had sent out had been repeated back by her control module. He had nothing else, but he had her. Just knowing she was there eased his worry a little.

Going through the startup procedures, P1049 began booting the other project, only to find that she was already active. Unsure of what to do next, he leaned down next to her, and rapped a knuckle on the middle of her visor.

"You there?"

P1050 came to abrupt alertness, but the lack of any alarm code failed to activate her automated self-defense procedures. She made the same inquiries to the network and internalized sensors as P1049. She came to the same, albeit delayed, results.

"Yes," she said, swatting his hand away. "What happened and where are we?"

Something itched at the back of her mind. Her heart and breathing rates increased as she too fought down panic. She had to protect P1049, and that gave her purpose in a very unsettling situation. But that didn't ease the growing knot in her core. There were algorithms she had to follow if she and/or P1049 were ever captured by an enemy or unknown. Even now she could feel those circuits closing, prepared to follow through the programmed command. It was only lack of data that prevented her from terminating their young lives.

P1049 stepped away from her, standing to his full, if not incredibly short, 4 feet of height.

"We're pretty well sealed in here. No exits, no seams, no nothing. Not exactly optimal, but where we can't get out, things can't get in. At this point, all we need to do is wait for support, and we're good to go."

P1050 accessed P1049's control module, seeking data from his more sophisticated sonar package. She frowned after analyzing the data for herself. She didn't want to wait for support, but she wasn't quite sure what to do in the absense of any network commands.

"This must be another test. Perhaps they are trying to determine our control module compatibility in the absense of outside stimuli. Why else would they activate us here?"

P1049 gave her a strange look. "You don't remember then?"

P1050 matched his look and shook her head. "Remember what?"

"Waking up..." He looked at the floor, then back at her. "You don't remember the cloaked man?"

"I remember you waking me up 3 minutes 26.4 seconds ago," P1050 replied. P1049's responses confused her. "And no, I don't remember a cloaked man? Were you activated prior to me? That's unusual. According to protocol, I should always be activated first."

P1049 searched for the reference file in his control module, but was unable to find anything. Finally, he gave up. "I know we were awake before now... but I can't find any data..." He started to say something, but stopped.

"That's impossible. Our control modules time stamp every activation. Are you sure you were really awake and not in a simulation?"

"Yeah, I'm sure of it..."

P1050 frowned in worried frustration at her companion. "If we were awake before, then were you given any orders during that time? Is there something you're not telling me?"

P1049 shook his head. "Oh I gave them, but it wasn't normal at all... Honestly, I don't think we were activated by Project Control. I think the cloaked man did it..."

P1050 tensed, knowing that this situation was completely wrong, yet there was no compulsion to act on the information she was gathering. She felt exposed and lost without being told what to do. This wasn't a situation she had been trained for, and strangely her failsafes weren't activating. "But only Project Control has our access codes. No one else could possibly break those encryptions, could they? Not even I can break your encryption. We shouldn't be here, and we shouldn't be awake."

P1049 nodded. "Exactly, but who cares? Can you feel any commands coming in? I can't... There's no pressure! Nothing! And yet we're moving, doing whatever we can because we can! We're not being told to do anything at all right now! Doesn't that feel good to you?"

P1050 went to say something, but stopped. She seriously considered what P1049 said, but honestly didn't know how she felt.
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[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Notek worked his way back through the rock, eventually materializing back in the safe sphere that he had created. Once inside the smooth rock walls he immediately manifested a phosphorescent liquid on his hands. The gooey light source dripped slowly to the floor, revealing the armoured figures of two very awake, very startled projects.

“I see that my theory was correct.” The pair immediately lapsed into a defensive posture, proof their years of conditioning. P1050 stared at the newcomer with a mixed expression of confusion, aggression, defensiveness, and skepticism.

“Who are you? Why did you bring us here? Did you activate us? If so, why?” she rattled off in rapid fire, totally ignorant of the proper social protocols for asking questions. She had questions and she wanted answers. She would've preferred getting them via control module, but with the network down she couldn't make any direct inquiries.

“Well, let me start at the beginning. I am Notek - you might better know me as P0003.” Notek shifted to a cross-legged position on the floor, the rough rock digging into his legs. Anticipating Notek’s leisurely posture, and relatively unconcerned with P1050’s questions, P1049 quickly interjected.

“We can figure that out later. What I wanna’ know is how we're disconnected from the system.” Notek addressed his concerns with a wave of his hand.

“We are safe, at least for now. I cannot answer all of your questions immediately, but a great deal will become apparent to you over the course of the next few days. For now, let me sate your curiosity with this. The two of you are the results of an in-depth project to clone, manipulate, train, condition, and ultimately control an army of super-soldiers.” Notek anticipated their disbelief.

“I know this might be hard to believe right now, but please listen to what I have to say. I was once a project myself. Given that I possess certain . . . advantages that you do not, I was able to free myself from the control module implanted in my body and regain my intellectual independence.

“By rendering you unconscious and then eliminating the control module for a select period of time, I allowed you to regain consciousness without being affected by the module. Eventually this module did reboot, but when it did you were fully in control, both of your actions and the control module’s abilities.” P1049 noted that Notek was finished and continued his line of questioning.

“Right, so we're no longer under network control. Does this mean we're leaving?”

“Yes, eventually. Right now we are effectively isolated from the rest of the facility to ensure that the two of you have no distractions while you’re adjusting to your new mental state.” Notek didn’t add that it also protected him in case they flipped out and attacked him – if necessary he could simply melt into the walls and wait for them to calm down. That is, if they didn’t go crazy, or die, or slip back into unconsciousness. He sighed internally – too much of this whole escapade was being left up to chance, and he didn’t like feeling like his back wasn’t covered. Plus, melting through walls of solid rock was a decidedly disconcerting feeling.

“Is there time to go back for another project? We're going to need him if we plan on rescuing more projects.” Notek stopped and carefully considered P1049’s proposition. An additional project could be either excess work or a great asset.

“How hard would it be to capture this individual?”
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(joint post between Note and I)

Ten hours and thirty-five minutes after P1049 and P1050's disappearance, the three squads had still failed to find anything. P1343 was about to call the search statistically at an end and search another area when suddenly two FOF tags blinked up onto his display, marking P1049 and P1050. Their bio-signs read green. The most illogical and confusing part was the two appeared in a sector already swept.

P1343 activated his onboard mike informing the other two squads of his position and that the targets had been spotted.

He held up his right hand, palm facing forward, signaling the other three security personal to hold position.

P1343 began to speak in a low tone, keying down the volume on his external speakers. “Take supportive positions out of the line of sight.” The project said motioning to a few indentations in the hallway.” I will apprehend the specimen . Nobody moves unless the situation changes. We do not want any runners.”

The project began to approach the two escapees.

“1049, 1050. Report and fall in.”

As he closed the distance to the two he automatically gauged the effective combat distance to the two, halting on the invisible line. Holding for a moment the project noticed no abnormalities about the projects other than their hesitance to respond. He began to move closer to the two rouge projects.
“P1049, P1050. Report and fall in.” He repeated himself yet again, boosting the output of his helmet’s speakers. This time he flashed his FOF tag in efforts to circumvent any damaged hardware and relay the same message.

Notek waited until Seraph’s attention was fully occupied by his project companions before silently and swiftly dropping to the ground behind the first of P1343’s bodyguards. A quick jab to the cortex and he was out like a light – the other two security personnel quickly followed.

Fortunately for him, Notek’s agile feet and silent steps kept him from being detected by P1343 until the moment he made contact. It only took a moment for him to sneak snake-like fingers in and around the helpless project’s helmet, quickly rendering him unconscious.

Notek nervously lowered P1343 to the ground, hoping that he had the time to disable the project’s control module before more guards showed up. Closing his eyes, he focused all his energies into controlling the transient tendrils now exploring the project’s system. His symbiotic appendages reached the place where the control module should have been placed, and he froze. It wasn’t there.

For a moment Notek panicked. Searching for the module could take hours, and if he didn’t get the projects out of the facility soon he could easily lose control. Steadying himself he refocused and searched the other areas of the cortex wherein the module was usually located, exhaling in relief when he felt it within his grasp. The last thing he wanted was the lives of two, even three more projects on his hands.

It took a few more anxious seconds for Notek to disable the control module, all the while harried by self-doubt about the mission. If he failed to rescue these projects or failed to protect them until they regained their strength, he would never forgive himself. Withdrawing his hands from P1343’s head, he looked up at the faceless projects before him.

“He should be awake soon.”
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The offices of Project Control were dank and musty with the smell of sweat and stress. Technicians assigned to monitor project control module feedback leaned forward in their chairs, staring at their monitors with a poorly masked sense of panic. Unmodified, conscripted military personnel streamed through the hallways, providing the essential support needed in this emergency. However, anyone who had ever worked on the projects understood what they were programmed to be, and there was little doubt of the immense catastrophe that was about to befall them.

The projects were made for one thing: killing with utmost efficiency. They were programmed monsters, controlled by a complex network of circuits and jumpers. The module each project was given was designed not to fail, and the biological conditioning within their minds should've rendered them unconscious in the absence of commands. The fact that two projects had escaped was bad enough, but the series that had escaped made it even worse.

P1049 and P1050. The first projects ever linked with a psychological dependence. P1049 was quite possibly the most intelligent of all the projects and fully capable of making independent decisions. He'd been built that way, but he also had an innate curiosity inherited from his template. It was this curiosity that made him extremely dangerous, which was why he'd been given the most extensive and invasive control module of any P-Series project. The control module subdued his natural biological thought processes, incorporating a controllable, logical voice into 1049's mind that was impossible for him to ignore.

P1050 was another failsafe. She was also intelligent, but nowhere near P1049's IQ. She was to be the yolk of P1049 if his psyche ever broke free of the control module's influence. With their psychological dependence, P1049 could not act independently from P1050, and the possibility of P1050 breaking free from her control module was asymptotic to zero.

But somehow, impossibly, P1049 and P1050 had vanished and were not responding to central control. P1343 had discovered them active and alert (another impossibility) within the facility, but then he was disabled according to the controls in front of Dr. Amy Travis, co-inventor of the basic circuitry within the control module itself.

"Please tell me that you at least got an operations log from 1343 on 1049 and 1050 before he went offline?" she said, her voice low with dread.

One of the techs slid to the side, and motioned for her to come over to his console.

"We did, but it won't make you much happier...."

He indicated a section of the Operation logging.

"They're active, but disconnected. The jumper configuration is changed to secondary, and it looks like active processing is occurring in the brain, with the Module as a secondary/overflow unit."

Amy's mind raced. There was no way a project could change those jumpers by itself! They were physical and internal, for God's sake! Besides that, the projects shouldn't be active at all with their brains acting as the primary processor. They were conditioned to sleep if the control module ever shut down, and it had to have been shut down by someone in order to change those jumpers! Hell, the projects needed surgery for a change that drastic to occur!!

P1049 was a genius, but even if he somehow dominated the control module, there was no way he could do this. That only left one grisly explanation to what was going on. Sabotage. She had to play this hand carefully, since she didn't know who was responsible.

"I want a lockdown of all personnel for their safety. Tell them to stay in their quarters. I do not want any more of the P-series released until we know exactly what happened. I want military personnel to block off any potential exit, and I want them all armed with EMP guns. Let's pray that 1049 and 1050 are unarmed, or God have mercy on us all."

The tech nodded, but instead of issuing the commands, he hesitated.

"Maybe there's something else we can do about this..."

"Like what?" she asked in a low voice.

He pulled up the production notes on the PXM Series units.

"The first wave is tested and undergoing final tweaking. They're almost ready, and this'll be a cakewalk mission for them. If we want to see their potential, this is the best time. We won't get a chance to test them like this again."

She started to object, but he interjected.

"I know they're not ready for a full deployment, but how else can we stop them?"

Amy shook her head and rubbed her face with her hands. "No, no, you're right. The PXMs should be able to deal with this, but I want them as a last resort. If we can hit 1049 and 1050 with a big enough EMP, we can shut them down. Even if their brains are being used as the main processor, they can't operate their suits without their control modules functioning. I'd rather do that than open a whole other can of worms. I just hope 1049 didn't figure out how to get his shielding working sans network control."

"That would probably be the first thing 1050 would try and figure out."

The technician swiveled his chair back to the screens in front of him.

"Not only that, but we would have no way of knowing it was effective without throwing troops into harm's way. Without a Project on the field, we don't know which control modules are online or offline, and we can't risk another P-Series."

Amy sighed, going over the alternatives in her head, and finally acquiesced after a long moment of silence. "Fine. Release PXM units 01 through 06. Command them to subdue and apprehend units P1049 and 1050. If 1049 and 1050 are irrecoverable, then destroy them. Also have them search for the missing P1343."

The tech nodded and began issuing the commands necessary. On his secondary screen, a small countdown appeared next to the EMP Status.
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PXM: Project Experimental Machine

The PXM-Series. Bred and built for combat, each unit uniquely designed for mission specific operations. There were thirteen numbered units constructed from the best raw materials, painstaking effort, and savvy research that resources could acquire. Safe and efficient. Reliable and accurate. These machines were born from the cutting edge of tomorrow's technology.

Created in response to the P-Series as an advanced updated version, the mission statement of the PXM-Series was to maintain and coordinate with the P-Series Units. There were even some cases where these experimental units were designed to handle solo missions where a P-Series squad would have been hindering. And, most importantly, they were designed as a failsafe measure in the event of a P-Series unit gone rogue.

According to the facility database research records, a P-Series was designed in such a way that "going rogue" was out of the question. With a Command Module disconnected from the main terminal hub, the human mind acting as secondary processor was conditioned to go unconscious. However, through the initial research phases of the PXM-Series, it was secretly found that the potential of a P-Series going rogue, disconnected from the hub and still able to act and think on its own, was very possible provided that the correct conditions were in place. Such conditions were calculated to be rare in the most extreme sense.

Such conditions were currently eminent.

Code:
 
ComHub> Units 01 through 06. Access XM-CM; online. Report Status.
Rec 01 Mantis:_______ReadyOp, sys acc: 45.6%
Rec 02 Scarab:_______ReadyOp, sys acc: 66.3%
Rec 03 Yellowjacket:_ReadyOp, sys acc: 33.33%
Rec 04 Stick:________ReadyOp, sys acc: 77.4%
Rec 05 Locust:_______ReadyOp, sys acc: 66.66%
Rec 06 Cockroach:____ReadyOp, sys acc: 54.7%

ComHub> command: 05 6F 34 A8 Recover P-Unit 1343, Terminate 1049, 1050
ComHub> Operations 1.1 to 1.3 complete before I=0
ComHub> HUD Disp: I/O=I EMP ctdn


Six women, each wearing a unique face and body clad in merely a hospital gown, rose from their thin mattresses. They were roused by a simple computer command inputed by a single faceless individual with the proper data entry protocols. All of them sat up like zombies rising from the graves; their steady breathing all in unison in the dimly lit hospital room-like facility.

In unison, each pulled their intravenous apparatuses from their arms and inner thighs. All of them swung their legs to the left and stood out of bed. Each then proceeded to fall out and exit the door as it unlatched from the outside.

From the first exiting the room to the last, they were each given a specific number and codename in sequential order. Mantis, Scarab, Yellowjacket, Stick, Locust, and Cockroach. Each had a body and/or mind to match characteristics of such insect families; a fitting trait their core creator had dreamed of.

-------------------------------------------------

Her orders were received. There was no question. There was no answer. There was only the image in her field of view and the command that was issued. There was nothing else. Already, she could feel the strange feeling of fluid encasing the flesh as she followed her "sisters". She may not have been authentically related to the other five, but it was a term she heard used before.

She couldn't remember where she heard the term, but that she just knew it from somewhere.

Her systems check was complete. Quite a few of her primary systems were off line, as well as a few subsystems. Her EM propulsion system was disabled, as well as her optical enhancement systems. Normally, she would've been able to at least hover, and enhance her vision to a complete 360 degree omnidirectional multispectrum extension.

Her quantum particle accelerator was also disabled. It was a secondary, yet potent weapon. Purely for experimental purposes, it was a weapon intended to be used as a last resort when making an escape. With that knowledge, as well as the countdown to an EMP blast in the area, she knew she couldn't let herself fail.

Her creator was counting on her to be successful. So much data could be collected on this initial live fire test run. She simply resolved to perform to the maximum of her capacity, or as much as her systems would allow... whichever came first.

PXM-03 Yellowjacket rounded the corner with the rest of her sisters. Immediately, there was personnel dispatching appropriate weaponry assigned to each PXM-Series. The tall Amazonian woman was handed two heavy semi-automatic pistols, which she holstered on her thighs in already shaped metal holsters. She was also handed a heavy assault rifle which was then mounted upon her back, muzzle downward. Ammunition was also dispensed to her, and those magazines were also placed upon various parts of her body atop the metallic yellow and black colored "skin".

Then, all of the accoutrements slowly became absorbed into her very flesh, as if the metal were mechanical after some fashion, in a way storing the equipment (save for the rifle as that was too large) in storage compartments throughout her body.

The search pattern had already been received, and the sextet was already conversing amongst themselves via their own encoded control module network. Tactical information and operational status displays exchanged between them as they advanced down the hall towards their first sector to search.

----------------------------------------------------------------

The first three sectors were clear as the six women moved like lightning through the complex. None of them were anywhere near each other, yet they were always keeping each other updated on their location. Stick, a petite woman of 5'2", and Cockroach, a heavyset woman of 5'9", remained behind to cover the doors with their own tactics. Stick's main function, and luckily it wasn't deactivated, was her personal cloaking field. It rendered her completely invisible so long as she didn't move very fast. Like the insect order she was lamely named after, the Phasmid to be more clever, she was to remain unseen and become stealthy.

Cockroach, on the other hand, was simply built to be sturdy and resilient. She wasn't entirely strong, but her purpose was to lend support and survive. Her and Stick guarded the exits while the other four spread out, Locust taking point with her amazing flight speed.

Code:
 
PXM-03> All> Auditory breathing of human life form detected in sector 06, hall 42, section 23. Moving to investigate.

PXM-01> All> Moving to support. ETA 3min. PXM-02 & PXM-05 continue pattern.


Footfalls could be heard carefully approaching P-1343's position from down a hallway and around a corner. Between footsteps, the hammer of a projectile weapon could also be heard being pulled back and set.

(ooc: got the set up done for these women. Stage is set. Allowed you guys time to react... hide, ambush, assault?)
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~Notesurfer~
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Enigma
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
As he patiently waited for P1343 to recover Notek’s mind sought to fill the silence. His conversations with the re-activated projects had been a veritable frenzy of volubility and he longed with tired eyes for blissful lone-ness. He wondered how he could have forgotten the draining effect that working with a team had on him. With that tiredness came apathy, and it was that apathy that he hated the most. It was why he was here now, standing over an unconscious body rather than evacuating within the safety of his pre-arranged time limit.

The two projects seemed to be glancing at one another, but who could tell? The opaque visors obscured their faces in the same way that the project’s themselves were obscured – gracelessly and effortlessly. How could the symbiote council sit and twiddle their thumb-analogs while such crimes were committed? Bitterly, he smirked at his own ineptitude, but quickly hid the expression from his companions.

Everything I am I have been forced to become; warrior, liberator, humanitarian, executioner.

We must all learn when and how to fly.

But what of those who never will?

They will find their own path.

If they cannot walk, if they cannot see, they will never travel it.

Their path is a different one.

The internal dialogue between symbiote and host was rudely interrupted by a groan emanating from the man lying on the floor. Propping the prone project up against the wall, Notek’s ears missed the telltale sound footsteps, and Yellowjacket’s approach was masked by the loud clanking of cold armor on stone. Notek stared deep into P1343's impenetrable visor as a father might gaze at a sleeping child. They were running out of time.

(OOC: Just trying to get things moving)
Edited by Notesurfer, Apr 9 2008, 03:54 PM.
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+Aiko+
Roffel House!

P1049's head whipped around to face the direction the sound was coming from.

<P1049> Contact at 43-01-20. Stand by.

Reaching out, he searched for any control module signals on his channel, and found nothing. Switching through several imaging types, he gave the interloper a once-over.

With a his of breath, he curled his hand into a fist. The thermal signature from the incoming contact indicated an energy source easily several times more powerful than his. That alongside the number of weapons giving off similar signatures put him ill at ease. One of which he immediately identified as a powered down QPAC, A weapon that could easily destroy any of them without their shielding online, and that alone made sticking around no longer worth the risk. This was supplimented by an unidentifiable form of Assault Rifle, which also added to his worry.

With a sigh, he pulled back to the other three projects, and signalled for visual confirmation of his message.

<P1049> Fall pack to safe location, Intruder is more heavily armed than we are. Holding this position is no longer worth the risk.

<P1050> ETA confirmed. Uploading potential escape routes now.

P1050 reached out with her suit's sensors but still did not detect any threats. However, she knew P1049's senses were far more acute than her own, and she had no reason, and no current ability, to distrust his judgement.

<P1050> I'm detecting a very large power source within 100 meters and closing. Confirm?

"We need to evacuate," she said plainly and calmly. "1049, do you have a route established?"

"Yes ma-am, right this way."

With a slightly off-kilter gesture, he headed off down a side corridor, his arm cannon held at the ready.

P1050 wondered why 1049 was acting so strangely, but decided that their recent, unauthorized activation had a lot to do with his altered personality. As long as it didn't affect his performance in the field, she had no reason to comment upon his unorthodox behavior. To her surprise, however, his comment awoke a strange feeling. She struggled to put a word to it, but her psychology definitions were noticeably lacking. She could cite the names and nicknames of over 50,000 weapons, but she couldn't pin down an emotion to a single word. If she could, she would've realized that she was annoyed.

"We're equal rank," she finally decided to say. "Don't call me ma'am."

Dahak shrugged, and responded without even looking back at her.

"Fair enough, honey."

Andalore didn't bother responding at first, not quite understanding what an insect secretion had anything to do with rank, but figured that Dahak knew something she didn't and was capitalizing on it.

"Whatever you say, sir."
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