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| After-Effect; Post-AC RP | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Oct 24 2010, 10:41 AM (21,543 Views) | |
| ~The Boss~ | Feb 3 2013, 04:45 AM Post #371 |
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Native Son
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"Y'know, considering what had went down, I'm surprised Delacroix didn't try to eliminate you before we got you?" "Oh, it's coming," Jimmy replied. "I'm sure it is. Why else would he bother with Rex, other than to get to me?" He had to smile at the way Jenosa had immediately taken to the pistols. Once again, his instincts were right on the money. He was never sure whether Grace had simply forgotten about the guns or if she left them in the case just to spite him. Both were equally possible, he believed. But it was nice to know that at least someone appreciated them. “What do you have in the way of combat stimulants?” Big Z asked him. "Stimulants?" Jimmy smirked at the Chozo's question. "Yeah, right this way." He went straight into the bathroom and flung open the medicine cabinet, revealing an entire pharmacy behind that mirror. Again, probably what one would expect in the home of a musician, but not so much someone once considered one of the deadliest humans in the galaxy. "We got stimulants, we got depressants, anti-depressants, painkillers... whatever you want. And I guarantee it's powerful enough even for a Chozo." Unlike the weapons, Jimmy took no pleasure in offering up this particular supply. But that was the dirty little secret. Grace had lost a step over the years, and this was a big reason why. It wasn't just blowing out her knee on Sanctuary, although that was where it started with the painkillers. In Jimmy's opinion, the injury was an excuse more than anything. But with so much time on crutches with nothing to do, Grace decided to spend most of that time whacked out on her medication, usually washing it down with whatever bottle was handy. It had ebbed and flowed ever since, and while she always managed to bounce back no matter how bad it got, it had definitely taken its toll. Not that she wasn't still very good at her job. But five years ago she never would've gotten caught. As they finished gathering up the gear, Jimmy got out the rough galaxy map he'd drawn for them earlier and wrote the coordinates next to the big dot he'd drawn for Alpha Leonis. He handed the map to Travis, and was about to say something about not wanting Delacroix incarcerated, but rather use-your-imagination, but then he noticed the bottle that Z'Gato had taken. "That one's for menstrual cramps." ..................... “But I suppose my opinion hardly matters. What do you think, Colonel?” Colonel Jenkins folded his hands and leaned over the table, eyeballing the men seated across from him at the table. Confederation scientists that the Fat Man had brought with him. They were, to a man, highly enthusiastic about Armoria's progress. Perhaps too enthusiastic. "Well gentlemen," began Jenkins, his voice low and somber, "as many of you know, I am of the opinion that by undertaking this project we all may very well have signed out own death warrants. Now, with each quantum leap forward this young lady takes, all of you grow more and more excited. And understandably so, and I might also say deservedly so. We've all worked very hard on this, and it's very satisfying to see it all pay off in such magnificent fashion. "However, I have seen what can happen in super soldier projects when things start to go south. Many good men and women have died at the hands of the very living weapons they created. You see, people are funny like that. It doesn't matter their personality type, their age, or whether they were born the old fashioned way or grown in a lab. When you get right down to it, nobody likes being told what to do. Least of all those in a position to do something about it. "Now if this project is a success, and I for one believe it will be, then we shall unleash hell upon the enemies of civilization the likes of which they've never dreamed of. It will be a true reckoning of biblical proportions against the Zebesians and against the Scurge. The sky is the limit. "But, need I remind you all of what happened to Icarus when he flew too high." Jenkins leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a second and allowing all those words to sink in. "Thank you, gentlemen, that will be all." |
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| ~Deadly Aim~ | Feb 3 2013, 01:46 PM Post #372 |
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Deadeye '17, eager to move on from the slow-motion train wreck that was last year.
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This rundown house had suddenly proven a bit of salvation for Travis and his unit. After having walked through the jungle they came across a nearly-deserted village; likely the remains of Nuyaii Prime's colonization days. It was a shame that the village never became a thriving town due to Federation hypocrisy courtesy of it's politicians (although, Chairman Keeton had done his best to help). Right now though, it was the best thing that could have happened to his unit, because they weren't alone. "RSSSSHEEE R'GAW! FEDRA KURA!" A harsh, guttural voice echoed through the building from the street as Travis heard the distinct sound of a plasma blade powering up. Not only had the Zebesians ambushed them in town, they had followed them here. Slowly, he listened for the creaking of the wooden floors which groaned under their alien frames. He listened and watched, slowly... slowly.... "RU'SHAAAAAA!!!" He rolled out of the way seconds before a plasma scythe would have decapitated him! Travis turned, cocking his magnum into an aim, and fired. The zebesian's cloaking device soon faded and the massive alien fell dead as Travis holstered his sidearm and picked up his rifle; The magnum's round had easily penetrated the carapace and wedged itself into the brain. The rest would be looking for their scout, however. "Get ready, folks...." ------ Looking now to the pistol which once again found itself in his hand, Travis had absolutely taken notice to the fact that the weapon had been pain-stakingly cleaned and maintained since he had last in his possession. The small, minute smudges that he had been meaning to eventually get to had all been removed, and the shine was not dissimilar from a newly-forged blade. He could see the tell-tale signs that Jenosa had indeed been true to her word, though; the current clip was half-loaded and the safety was still on; and not to mention the chambered round was a different make of what he uses. Still, it was nice to see that Jenosa could clearly see the care and trust put into this weapon over the years; if the tell-tale scars across the grip and the barrel were not signs of this, then perhaps the fact that it was in working condition to begin with after numerous years of service told the story. As he accepted the gun, Travis smirked back. "Thank you." He couldn't help but note that Jenosa's gaze lingered a little longer upon him, though. Almost as if... (Was she just checking me out??) Travis' smirk cracked just a slight degree higher, barely even noticeable as the realization dawned on him. So it seemed Jenosa fancied him as a little more than a friend... "Hey, look... as much as I enjoyed eye-balling this arsenal," Jenosa's words interrupting Travis' thoughts, the hunter chuckling inwardly. Eyeballing, indeed. "There's something I've been needing to get off my chest. Something I bet you, and everyone else, has been wondering about, and I'm only going to tell once we're back on your ship." So she was going to finally explain everything, including the nature of her still-inexplicable glowing eyes. It wasn't phazon radiation, Travis had made sure of that; but it was still something he had thought about when pondering alone. "I understand. Speaking of heading back..." He rapped his chin with a finger. Travis almost seem to take a much heavier breath into his chest as he prepared to speak; apparently whatever was on his mind was heavy upon him as Jimmy looked up from his conversation with Z'gato to hand him the coordinates. "Before we leave Earth, I just, uh... have to stop somewhere. Somewhere important." An image of his mother flashed through his head; it hadn't been too long ago, but she was now gone; she had finally broken free of her alcoholism all too briefly before reconciling with him and passing from the world a few months later. Visiting your mother's grave was never an easy prospect, after all. However, Travis quickly allowed himself to be distracted by Z'gato's apparent gaffe. (Oh man, well, I'm glad I'm not in his shoes at the moment...) He thought to himself, supressing the urge not to laugh at Z'gato's misfortune. He couldn't help but wonder, what on Earth did Jimmy Vega not hang on to? |
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| ~Deadly Aim~ | Feb 17 2013, 01:35 PM Post #373 |
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Deadeye '17, eager to move on from the slow-motion train wreck that was last year.
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(MASSIVE JP Between CEMP and I to get things moving again. Also: was given permission to double post.) Travis let out a massive sigh of relief as the group trudged their way out of the Soho apartments and waded their way through the storm to the nearest transit terminal. The meeting with Vega had been jarring enough for all parties involved, although they -did- get some nice weaponry out of it. To the public eye, however, they were simply travelers with suitcases. After about twenty minutes of riding the bus, the hunters disembarked back into Manhattan and Travis sought out Athena from wherever in the district she had happened to occupy herself. The Metroid queen returned with four bags of books, Travis courteously carrying them. Among other subjects, a couple of texts at the top included "History of the first and second millennium of Earth" "Empires of the Old World", "Rome: from rise to fall", "McVeigh, Bundy, and Manson: Studies of Human Psychotics" and "Human Biology 101". Oh, and a copy of JRR Tolkien's Lord of the Rings trilogy, apparently, complete with The Hobbit. Finally making their way back through Queens twenty minutes later, the hunters saddled back onto their respective vessels, securing their weapons and stowing their purchases. "I'll meet you back at the Thunderwolf if you two are heading there", Travis began over the comms to the Black Bird. "I uh... have something to do, in Atlantic City. You're welcome to join me if you want, of course; up to you." Jenosa’s face was heavy with thought all the way through on the way back. Part of her was feeling anxious about what exactly she was going to say, and how. Nonetheless, they needed to know. So focused on her thought she barely acknowledge Travis was deep in his own thoughts. At first she going to decline, so as to think more in silence on what she was going to say, but hesitated; because she didn't need to think on what she needed to say. She was just going to say it; and while she personally didn't know where Travis was going, she guessed it was something personal. And emotional. She decided to do the polite thing. "Sure, I'll tag along...wherever you need to go." He nodded. "Alright." ================= The flight through the swirling storm clouds was substantially slower than the initial flight to New York; Travis was forced to drop his speed and monitor the polarity of the ship's energy fields as he flew ever southward, to the sprawling entertainment and gambling metropolis of Atlantic City; home for him. The stop at the Atlantic City Intergalactic Spaceport went smoothly. In fact, a couple of the security personnel nudged each other as Travis passed through the checkpoints, a certain heft to his stride. Jenosa and the others could hear the whispers, some people grinning; one guy was could even be heard commenting "Well there is Atlantic City's finest son in the flesh." Anybody who looked carefully enough knew that he wasn't exactly taking the footsteps of a man decidedly happy to be home, however. Travis had suddenly clammed up after landing in the city, even with Jenosa and Athena. The look in his eyes suggested a mix of reminiscence, and pain, and sadness. There were only three stops that he made on his round gambit; one at a nearby florist shop, where he purchased a bundle of flowers. The second was at a terminal, where Travis flagged down a taxi and directed him to some obscure address that nobody else present would have ever known about. And the third was the destination that the cab pulled up to; after about thirty minutes of driving further inland, the gaggle of unlikely allies found themselves before a vast cemetery divided by woodland; its graves were marked with hand-chiseled stone and iron gates. For only a moment, Travis seemed to hesitate, his chest rising to give an uneasy exhale before he strode forward through the open gates. (I never like coming here... with all three of them gone, even more so.) He paced his way up the path, a man with a solemn purpose; the winds and rained railed against him, but Travis paid them no mind. The grime and the dirt slid off of his boots with every step. And once again, he paused, coming to a halt before a cross-shaped grave. As if on cue, a bolt of lightning flashed through the sky, illuminating engraving: "Here lies Anastasia Elizabeth Clark. Beloved mother and wife. 'May you at last be free from the torment of your burdens, mother, for long has been the mile beneath your feet.' -Travis Warren Clark, beloved son” (I feel like I've watched this scene in a movie before...) He thought to himself, kneeling before the grave and placing the flowers there. "Hi mom..." Travis softly whispered, barely loud enough to be heard over the rain. "It's been a little while. I'm sorry that I haven't been around to bring some flowers to your grave." Travis drew a sharp breath. "I've met quite a few people of late, two of particular interest... but that's not all I wanted to mention. I... I may have to do something extremely dangerous soon, mom. I know, I know, you never wanted me to follow in dad's footsteps at first, but here I am; in more ways than one, I am my father's son. I just want you to know... I may not be so lonely anymore. I.... I-" Travis seemed to pause, as if flinching before the grave. "I miss you. I'm sorry that I didn't get to spend much time with you in your final days on earth, but I look forward to seeing you again. I'm... I'm just glad we finally learned to love each other again." Travis bowed his head, muttering in prayer. "Lord... I know you can hear me. Please, God, guide my mind and my hand through that which lies before me... I want to make the right decisions for You, Lord. I want to please You, and be able to walk among you as an equal when my days are long done and finished. Please, watch over us... Amen." With a slow, almost unbearably quiet silence, Travis stood back to his feet, and walked over to another nearby cross. This time, he didn't break down into a series of contemplations. Instead, he simply stared at the symbol of the Galactic Medal of Honor embossed on the stone, and in a style harkened to his days as a soldier, snapped a sharp solute before looking out toward the distance. Travis lifted his right hand and seemed to pinch the bridge of his nose for an excessively long time before sighing deeply. Was he... crying??? Whether he was or not was difficult to comprehend through the rain, as Travis stood and made his way back to his companions. "Sorry for the wait... let's head back and board the Thunderwolf; we have a moron of a fugitive to catch, and a very real likelihood that somebody in the military is protecting him." The fire suddenly seemed to return to Travis' eyes, as did the steely tone indicative of when he truly meant business. He was ready to put Delacroix away, one way or another. Jenosa became less and less distracted by her own personal fears and anxiety as she travelled with Travis, noticing the deep somber look in his face grow; it had been a side that had no doubt had hidden itself with only a faint trace in face previously. Now she could see the full weight of what this man had gone through. She could only guess what had happened to Travis's mother, but she could tell it hadn't been a quiet, aging one. The effect left her somber herself, recalling vividly her own parents; two people whom she had no idea if they were either alive or dead. In some ways, the uncertainty felt worse than knowing either fate. She let Travis say his piece in somber silence, not even bothering to cover her hair as the rain began to pore. She was a not a religious person; to her, she didn't need, or want, God, or any deity guiding her. She guided herself and prided herself for her independence of thought. Even so, she respected the spirit of the prayer. As Travis finished his speech, Jenosa, out of involuntary impulse, undid her pony tail. Although soaking wet, it fell with heavy grace against her shoulders, somehow not only enhancing her looks - she wasn't exactly a sexually appealing woman but still pretty - but both her deep respect for Travis's sorrow and her own emotional sympathy. As they moved out, she walked with heavy footsteps, feeling a sudden burden come over her for where they were about to embark. ============== The trip back into the city and onto the Arctic Storm had been as somber as the journey to Atlantic City to begin with. Through the cascading rain, the oppressive weight of his past was no doubt made clear. His mother, who drowned herself in a rain of depression, anger and alcohol after his father passed, only to finally mend fences with him in the end of her days. His sister, Trishadarian Winters; while technically only half-siblings, the bond of blood went far further between the two. When Travis received word that she had died, it cut him more deeply than any blade or bullet ever had. He was a wreck for two months, secluding himself to all but a few other people and Constantine. And then, of course, the death that had set him on his path in life: his father. The war hero who left him and mom behind and never came home because of a pirate commander’s insatiable bloodlust. Oh, and how that had changed him; at the tender age of ten, he had even learned of the identity of his father's killer; Lo'rok, the infamous zebesian warlord and ship commander. From such an early age, he knew who had ended his father's life, and he wrestled with that fact... with sadness, with anger, and perhaps the most dangerous feeling of all that threatened to consume him: a desire for revenge. Eventually, with time, he learned to quell it unless he became that which he sought to defeat, but the fire lit within still drove him on. And then, here he was now. Indeed, before meeting either Jenosa Arma or Athena... he felt very much alone in the world. As the Arctic Storm began to exit the atmosphere, however, the atmosphere inside the gunship became less painful and oppressive; the look in Travis' eyes began to soften as they left the atmosphere, the hunter finally allowing himself a smile. "Ahh, it was nice to at least see this world. I don't get to do that often enough..." The Arctic Storm began to dock with the Thunderwolf. ["Well, welcome back, all of you; I trust that your little... chat with Jimmy Vega went well, if the various new pieces of cargo aboard the 'Storm are any indicator?"] "It... it certainly yielded results, Constantine." Travis admonished the GI as he made his way down the ramp, carrying Athena's book purchases over his shoulder to her quarters. With a nod, he turned to Jenosa; he couldn't help but note how beautiful she was with her hair down; this was a side he had never seen of her before, something gentler and more sincere from the wisecracking and occasionally playful redhead. "If you want, Jenosa, feel free to unwind before you get whatever you need to get off of your chest; you're welcome to use the shower if you want or anything to that effect, my ship's water supply is pretty good." He admonished her, acknowledging that she wasn't exactly thrilled to reveal what she was going to be revealing. "Yeah, I think I could use an actual shower," she spoke somberly, nodding in thanks. Her hair still dripped, matted against her face and soaked clothes, having been too emotional inside to really care back then. She found the warm water of the shower a welcome sensation after being chilled by the rain, and was equally glad to get the chance to wash up. So close to finding Vega's whereabouts that she hadn't bothered to properly bathe in several days, and it was only then she felt rather dirty. That and it both helped to cleanse her mind and relax her tense muscles. As she dried up and put on fresh set of clothes, she contemplated about herself. It was strange, but now that she was going to mention what lay under her skin, she didn't feel all that afraid now; possibly unnerved that they would, but she trusted that they wouldn't treat any different when she explained the strange, alien virus. =============== The real trick was conveying the weight of how ugly this stuff was. Thankfully, a surprise encounter in the hallways with Alana had that all fixed. It was only about half an hour before she, along with Alana, met with Travis. Wearing a deep blue T-shirt and matching pants, her hair was back as a pony tail and she seemed to have mostly returned to her old self. Still, there was no denying the hint of deep seriousness in her cheerful voice. "So, tell, what do you know of the Scurge?" "As far as I'm aware, this was a virus that the Confederation government said was contained, nothing more than a boogeyman story about a virus that supposedly gives the symptoms of the common cold. But, if that's anything like the Galactic Federation's track record with Metroids, such as their little... endeavors on the BSL station incident that Samus responded to, then there's more to the story." Travis nodded, still having not removed his partially soaked coat. "Particularly, the reason why Delacroix wanted your blood so badly and went so far as to kidnap you to get it- Well, it has me... guessing. But I'll withhold my speculations. So before we get into that... what would you know of them?" He didn't really seem to mind that he was dripping wet. Then again, he was wearing a tactical bodysuit underneath the coat; the elements probably didn't bother him much at all at the moment. Jenosa had no idea what the BSL incident was a bout, only that she guesses it was another government cover up fiasco; something she was starting to get sick of. Still, that wasn't relevant. What was, was this: Scoffing at Travis's description of them, she replied, “What I know...is enough to say that the Scurge would make the common cold look like a godsend." "So, let's go meet everyone else so I can share a nice story and a biology lesson in one." "On that, I completely agree." Travis nodded, walking over to a nearby console. From the message displayed, he had activated the intercom from his system. "Attention all hands, please meet in the cockpit. We've an important matter to discuss." As the ship's occupants slowly filed in, Travis noted that some of them looked notably confused at the sudden call to meet. That wasn't entirely relevant at the moment, however. "Go ahead, Jenosa." He nodded, gesturing with his hand as if to say "you have the floor". Jenosa wasn't exactly the person who worked with an audience; she social, yes, but not exactly a spokesperson. So there was obviously some delay on her part, but she could also tell that, despite the initial confusion, everyone was expecting the truth about. Sighing deeply, she spoke with a friendly but weighed seriousness. "I'm certain by now that many of you are wondering what's been special about my blood that Delacroix would go to the efforts to obtain. And let me say...the truth isn't exactly something I tell lightly, but given the scope of just how big this conspiracy, I believe you all need to know. So listen up, I got a story to share." Her green eyes grew heavy with the past she recalled. "The Galaxy date was 20X4. Confederation military receives a distress call from a very important, remote research facility; the commanders’ action: A salvage operation. Yes, data salvage, not a rescue mission. They send in a professional bounty who's had a confidentiality contract with for a good while; they give her prototype bio-suit, telling her that she needs it to enter the lab, and nothing else. Only that it's a contract that she couldn’t pass up." She leaned across the pilot seat with her elbows on it. Her expression darkens, "She should have never taken that job." "As soon as she reaches that planet," she continued, "she's given a rude awakening, and soon finds herself stranded. And everything on that planet was out to get her, and I mean everything. Not just the local life form, which were stranger still, everything from the small energy-based pyrnaughts to the security drones themselves. And everywhere she went, there patches of this glowing, alien, blood red bio matter, like...coagulate blood left to ferment." "But hey, she pushes on, even when her usual sidearms stopped working, the cracks seeping with the same ooze that's all over the place. She finds herself resorting to the suit's armaments, which work and keep working, and soon she reaches the research facilities. There, she finds out what happened: that, amongst other things, the facility was built to research a newly discovered alien organism aptly called the Scurge." "And this Scurge, and I mean this, is visible to the naked eye, but is the source of a deadly pathogen. Makes most standard quarantine protocols look like a joke, and it was quickly surmised that the science team had failed to contain it. Because this virus...got into everything - not sure what it can't get into - and that was everything that was out to get her. And not only did it change them, somehow it came under the Scurge's influence. Almost like telepathy." "And what's worse, the virus was in her too. Suit she had gave her some resistance, but it didn't stop it, and she needed to use whatever was in the facility to keep it - and everything else - at bay." "Along the way she grabs enough tech to make the commander happy, all the while take down some big nasties; including the Source - that being the Scurge organism itself. She makes it bag, and told that she clean." She looked down for a moment, and then said, "She wasn't. Somehow...the bug mutated, but didn't do what it's supposed to do. It fused with her human physiology, changing her, but still retaining her humanity. And in fear, she fled across the stars and into the Galactic Federation." "Guess what. That bounty hunter's me." (She was used... much like how my fire team was used on that fateful operation on Nuyaii Prime. Ironic that was my last major assignment before being honorably discharged.) Travis had closed his eyes, as if in seeming sympathy toward Jenosa. He knew all too well what it felt like to be a pawn in somebody else's game, especially a pawn to a king with wicked intentions. It was why he became a bounty hunter instead of a law enforcement officer; too much authority involved over police if those in power had wicked aims. Still, it finally made sense; this whole fiasco... in a way, it had the danger to become the second "BSL Incident". "It finally makes sense," He began. "Not just your miraculous resurrection, but your faster than normal reflexes, your enhanced senses; you're not an ordinary human at all. But... you are still very much a human being and a woman who I call friend." He finished his words somewhat softly, as if every word would send him reeling over a ledge. "Still... I'm pretty sure you've been thinking it, Jenosa, and even if you aren't, I don't mean to scare you by saying this, but since we're friends I'll be very direct: "I think it's pretty obvious why Delacroix went through the trouble of getting your blood; the Galactic Federation wants to use your hybridized cell cultures to either extract the genes for the Scurge itself from the blood... or they intend to weaponize it in some other way. Either way... it's very obvious that they want to use your cells as a basis for some type of bio weaponry program; and I have a sneaking hunch that they never would have known about it on their own. Either way, we can now assume that not only did somebody in the Federation hire Delacroix, but he likely sold it to them for a very hefty price. After all, he's a middleman; he deals in just about anything that will make him money by shuffling around everyone else’s' goods." He paused, scratching his chin at the implications of this. "Still... I'm glad you finally got that off your chest; it must have been difficult for you to hide from everyone." He offered Jenosa a brief smile. "Ok, first off," Jenosa stuttered for a moment, "I don't actually have faster than normal reflexes, or enhanced sense...well, not quite. That's the suit I wear, but...it did give me this weird six sense. Like, I sense certain forms of energy around me." "And it also gave you an aspect similar to the original Scurge, but more benign: transfection," Alana chided in. Jenosa blinked, eyeing Alana. "Eh?" Alana clarified, "You can pick up certain objects, those with some of energy in them I assume, and manipulate them, like this Scurge did; take your gun or suit for example. Somehow you can make the sidearms’ shots more potent than usual. Not only that, but your body seems to be unusually adaptable. I assume the Scurge were the same with whatever attacked you." "Yeah," Jenosa agreed, "As I went along, not only did they become more organized, the same variants changed over time, becoming tougher and coming up with other tricks." "That seems to its defining characteristic," Alana hypothesized, "highly infectious and adaptable. Along with how reactive it is to certain energies...it's almost like - an excellent counter balance for phazon. Think of it this way; phazon is super potent in energy, but it's chaotic, unstable, but from what I've seen on the Macro level, the Scurge energies are almost the opposite. If you did it, the two would complement with one another. Something powerful, now being given a very fine guiding force." "Well, actually... Phazon is more dangerous than you think; ever hear of the Corruption incidents?" Travis chimed in. "But... you're right. In its more crude states, Phazon is unpredictable and volatile, yet extremely powerful; the zebesians have used it to create some scary monstrosities, I'll tell you what. And it would make sense that somebody in the Federation would try to in some way combine Scurge DNA to Phazon mutagenic properties." Travis' eyes darkened. "They actually tried this before with bioweapons. You see... thanks to a good friend I know what actually happened on BSL. "Before Samus Aran went missing, she was assigned to the BSL lab team on a routine science team escort mission on SR388. Now, Omega and Athena here already know these details, but what was never revealed to the general public was that during her time there, she contracted an infection from a parasitic organism with properties alarmingly similar to the Scurge, but very much its' own organism." Travis tapped to a slide on the nearby holoconsole, Constantine evidently having listened in to the whole conversation and bringing up all the relevant records. "While I was away for those three months, I found out about these." The image Travis had bought up was of a gelatinous, levitating hologram of an organism, a shapeless blob with pulsating bioluminescent lights. "This is what Samus Aran was infected by; an X parasite; an organism that has properties similar to the Scurge, and probably even more dangerous. After having parts of her power armor surgically removed from her, they were shipped to the BSL station. "These things... they literally created copies of both Samus Aran and her Power Suit; they are the real reason Samus blew up the BSL station, and why she hasn't shown herself much since then. I speculate that the reason the Galactic Federation became involved with obtaining your blood is because they see similar properties in the Scurge virus. And if the Confederation has had it under wraps, I bet you somebody who used to work for them is now helping the Federation. "The fact is, it's very clear that are looking to make a bioweapon; and I think we can all agree here that they don't know what they're toying with; that's the trouble with trying to make a sentient living weapon after all; they assume it will behave like a tool when it isn't one. I don’t know about you all, but the next chance I get, I'm destroying any Phazon and Scurge specimens we find at the target facility. The last thing we need is a virus super-mutated by Phazon wreaking havoc around the galaxy." Jenosa hummed partially in agreement. She didn't like the idea of something monstrous running around, threatening innocent people; it had been the reason why she had stopped the Source in the first place. But this was more about finding answers, and getting to the truth about the both space governments. "With that said, there is a very important reason I'm telling you all this: in case there's an outbreak. It might seem silly since we all have suits, but that's the problem. All considering the military didn't include head protection, I have to presume that air tight suits won't work. And I have a deep suspicion that almost everyone here, suits included, is vulnerable to infection." "So let me be very clear about this: if any of you, at all, see any signs of red, or purple, alien goop, lying around you bail. No question, no other thoughts; you radio everyone else and you get the hell out of dodge. Even standing in the vicinity of that stuff could get you contaminated; I am not risking anyone's life to this virus. You all got that?" "Completely acceptable." Travis nodded. "I also want to make this clear; in the event that I were to personally become contaminated beyond hope, or turned by the virus... Jenosa, I hate force this task on you, but you would be the only one who could do it with exception to Omega and Athena; I doubt the Federation would be so stupid, but should it come to that... I want you to shoot me, and if my armor becomes contaminated beyond hope, destroy it. You're the only one who could safely deal with the virus by your own admission; if your genes are bonded to it, it wouldn't attempt to infect you." Jenosa gave Travis a dark look, "I seriously hope it doesn't come to that." Then she turned to everyone else, "I hate to sound like a commander, but: Any questions?" |
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| ~Alissa~ | Feb 18 2013, 02:18 AM Post #374 |
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Alissa hadn’t taken anything from the apartment, she had what she needed already back on her ship, the more she learned about what they were facing the more a plan of action was forming in her mind. She had made peace a long time ago with the fact that the part of her that was an operative would never go away, and could never be switched off. She would always look for the exits, threats, and angles in a situation. And when faced with a challenge she would break it into objectives, and terms for success. That is what she had done when the scope of what they had gotten themselves into became clear. In her mind she saw the objectives as followed, Take Delacroix into custody, determine how much they learned from Jenosa’s blood, destroy any research and saved data. Ideally in a way that would make these forces reluctant to attempt the work again. Talk of any plan would have to wait however. ======== The whole experience at the cemetery was foreign to Alissa, as such she kept well back and watched. A long coat with hood pulled up over her head warding off the rain. Spirituality was something Alissa had only explored on a very basic level. She knew of most of the beliefs of humanity, though the NGC was mostly silent on the subject and the scientists discussed it not at all, likely because they didn’t want her or any of the other subjects thinking about what happened after they died. What intrigued her more though was the concept of loss, she knew on the edge of thought that the people visited were family to Clark, Parents by the look of things. From reading and observations she knew most human children had an attachment to parents. But she couldn’t form the notion in her mind, maybe it was because she didn’t have parents. Maybe it was because for most of her life those who controlled her spent every moment they could trying to stamp out any sort of emotion. But there was something profound about Travis standing there above his mother’s grave, something that struck a chord within the former operative. Before they finished she turned moving to wait near their ride reaching to wipe at her cheek her brow knitting in confusion as she considered what she was experiencing. ======== Alissa was not concerned about the scourge, or any other infection in truth. She knew enough about the machines that swam through her body to know that they would wage instant and brutal war against any infection. The benefits of an active immune system, but she had to admit there was a question as to whether the science of her creators was up to the task of dealing with the scourge. Alisaa looked between the group quietly a moment, she moved over leaning over to speak quietly to Travis “When this meeting is finished, I would speak with you and Miss Arma privately, I will be on my ship” That done she turned and quietly left the room, the meeting was for the most part finished, certainly she had nothing to add to it. ======== *are you certain it is wise to share this information operative* “I have the skills needed to gain access to the facility, and a plan” *Sharing this information could put your continued freedom at risk. If the information you share reaches…* “I am aware of the risk, however the skills…and training I am going to use could make them suspicious of me and I need their trust……trust requires truth” *understood…..Operative?* “Yes?” *do you trust me?* |
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| ~DarkKnightCuron~ | Feb 18 2013, 12:23 PM Post #375 |
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Starfeather
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Z'Gato looked over the medicine cabinet, his eyes scrolling over walls of text and various labels, looking for several specific drugs. For the most part, he needed components that could either be used for adrenaline boosters, painkillers, or muscle-enhancers...the kind that acted quickly and noticeably. Very certain chemicals and drugs were actually useful in a combat scenario, and as one might guess, highly toxic or addicting or both for the user. Even Z'Gato had not fully broken his addiction to a few of them yet, another reason why he had not left his armor back at the ship...just in case he needed a hit of something. Still, looking over many of the drugs, he dismissed the depressants and anti-depressants, not looking for such things. They did not have the chemicals needed for what the Chozo had in mind, save for one particular bottle of medication. Good, this one had a chemical known for enhancing eyesight, so it was useful. Z'Gato had taken three or four pill boxes or bottles by this point, and as he was looking over a fifth, noting the contents thereof, he heard Jimmy Vega's voice once again. “That one's for menstrual cramps...” The tall bird-man recoiled a little bit, his eyesight looking over at Travis as he heard something emanate from his friend's mouth. Irritation and embarrassment flashed across Z'Gato's face, but he took the bottle anyway. “Makes for excellent painkiller in battle,” The Chozo said rather defensively. If a bird could blush, Z'Gato was certainly doing so. The rest of the encounter in the apartment was, all in all, fairly uneventful. Even then, Z'Gato made it a point to trade contact information with Jimmy Vega...after all, if the man dealt with Chozo weaponry and artifacts, it was highly likely Z'Gato would need Vega's expertise in the future. There was only so much Z'Gato could learn or do on his own...and if the human had such a vested interest in such things, he might as well take advantage of it. At least in the future, Z'Gato could promise payment. At any rate, once the group left the apartment, Z'Gato was rather disconnected from most of the conversations. He seemed deep in thought, even as he stowed away his newly acquired gear. The mission ahead was, certainly, quite dangerous and required everyone to be at their best—if not more. Of course, Z'Gato was initially inclined to go with Travis to wherever he was going as well. There were strength in numbers, and at any point, Delcroix and his men would likely be waiting for an opportune time to strike. Still...nothing had really prepared the Chozo for what he saw, a lone warrior mourning the loss of his loved ones. Even at the distance Z'Gato kept, knowing how private of a moment this probably was for Travis, the needles of the past dug deep into the Chozo's heart. There was no grave site for his parents and kin...and even if there was, the shame of the past still clung to Z'Gato more than he let on. Even so, Z'Gato let Travis visit the resting place of his loved ones in peace—if that was what they were. Z'Gato merely assumed that was what the gravestones marked, since he was too far away to really read them. With a deep breath, Z'Gato turned the other way, his presence more than enough to try and comfort his fellow battle brother. Z'Gato could not trust his own tongue in such an occasion...he wouldn't know what to say. Regardless, when the time came, they returned to Travis' rather impressive ship, leaving Z'Gato a bit of time to synthesize more combat drugs that he would need for the coming conflict. That's when the call came to gather at the helm, and the story began. Even at the end of the strange story, Z'Gato was silent, at least knowing why Jenosa had been resurrected and sustained despite all that had happened. Even now, flashes of memory went back to that moment where she had died with all involved watching. He was no medic, so he was not sure why he had even attempted to save her life...Perhaps there was something more there. The way she and Travis looked upon one another, though, was enough for Z'Gato to decline any further pursuit in that department...it probably would not have worked out that well anyway. Solitude seemed to fit the Chozo warrior just fine, most of the time. He was the outsider here, even if he was counted as a comrade. Even today, he still could not fathom a lot of human eccentricities, worlds apart between humanity and Chozo. One was rising in dominance over the galaxy...the other was from a lost age. Such was the way of the galaxy. When the request for questions arose, Z'Gato merely shrugged, his power armor now back to full capability after they had boarded Travis' ship. “I will keep an eye out for any such substances...but I will likely refuse to leave once we have begun our assault, at least until we have captured or killed Delacroix. Honor demands that much, regardless of the circumstances for me,” He said, shaking his head. As dark as a conversation as this was, Z'Gato found that the communal support between Jenosa and Travis was at least a little encouraging. “If a creature or soldier is infected with Phazon, however...I would suggest letting me handle it,” Z'Gato said, obviously aware of the capabilities of his suit. He was not sure if it would fight off any Scurge infestation, but at least his suit made him mostly immune to the effects of Phazon. Even a partial solution was still a solution. He pulled away from the wall he had been leaning on just after Alissa left the room. She was the only unknown within the group, though Jenosa seemed to trust her, but Z'Gato still had one or two reservations about the strange operative. If nothing else, he would at least keep an eye on her. Once Alissa was gone, Z'Gato figured it was his time to go back to his own ship as well, which was still docked with Travis'. At the very least, he could get some of the synthesization done with those combat drugs and rearm his suit with those power bombs, missiles, and super missiles. He would need every advantage possible in their coming attack. “I will be in my ship preparing for the coming storm,” He said before leaving the room, his eyes dwelling on Jenosa and Travis for a moment before leaving. Hopefully, Athena would not get jealous. He had seen what a Metroid Queen was like when she was under such a mental state. |
Marching to the Black Gates...
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| ~The Boss~ | Feb 21 2013, 03:05 PM Post #376 |
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Native Son
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When Jenosa arrived back on her ship, there was a package waiting for her. It was a small, nondescript white box, the type one might get at a department store. And while the fact that there had been such a serious security breach was no doubt unsettling, there was nothing threatening about the package itself. Even a scan indicated nothing dangerous or toxic inside. Taped to the box was a card with Jenosa's name on it. Opening it up and there was a short handwritten message inside. Another little something that Grace never took out of the box. Hope it fits. Use it wisely... I hear Travis is a sucker for blue - Jimmy Inside the box, wrapped up in tissue paper, was a long, slinky electric blue dress. Low cut, but not so much that it might become an issue, backless with spaghetti straps crisscrossing, and a slit that went nearly all the way up the thigh. Daring, but certainly not immodest. With minimal effort, she'd look positively stunning. So it was dangerous after all. |
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| ~DarkKnightCuron~ | Mar 1 2013, 10:06 AM Post #377 |
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Starfeather
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((JP between Alissa and Myself)) As Z'Gato left the room, leaving Travis and Jenosa to speak in private, the Chozo warrior spotted Alissa taking a turn at one of the many corridor intersections on the ship. She seemed to move with a kind of purpose, at least from where Z'Gato had been and made a thoughtful sound, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Of course, they had come this far together, but he still knew next to nothing about her. He knew of her ability with stealth and a sniper rifle, but those were just skills, not her as a person. It was not beyond the realm of possibility that she was some kind of spy...but for whom was the biggest question of all. Convinced that he should keep an eye on her, the Chozo proceeded to follow the woman, hoping to perhaps eavesdrop on whatever she might be doing. Of course, she was taking the direct route towards the ship bay, likely to where her own ship was waiting...an ideal location for privacy, Z'Gato had to admit, but nonetheless, he followed her at a distance. He was headed towards his own ship anyway, so he might as well keep tabs on Alissa. She walked through the corridors of the ship to the hanger where her own ship sat quietly idle. She was aware the Z’Gato was walking not too far behind her. The weight of his suit and the way he moved made him sounds rather distinct to her. The ramp leading to the small hold on her ship opened as she approached the ship, a short time later she emerged with a tool case as well as what appeared to be a gun bag there was a work bench in the hanger she had spotted, and was choosing to do her work there rather than in her ship, she sat down and began to break down a weapon for cleaning. She glanced over her shoulder when the sounds of Z’Gato’s movement stopped “covert observation is not among your strengths” Z'Gato let out a grunt of surprise, one of his eyes twitching in annoyance. It was true, really, as he was never one for stealth and surprise. He was the product of many years of training in the ways of armored assaults and direct conflict, not to mention his armor was bulky and loud at times. He should have figured she would have noticed him almost immediately. He looked from her spot at the workshop desk to his ship then back to her form. He normally would have a rather hostile retort towards her about such things, but in all honesty, she was the one that had caught him by surprise, really, so he was a bit speechless for a moment before he walked over to the workbench. "I suppose you would know all about that," He said when he reached the desk, more or less curious as to what she was working on. The bag she had carried was large enough to make the Chozo wonder just what kind of weapon she was working on. "You are really the only person on this team I know nothing about," He said honestly, crossing his arms over his armored chest as he looked down at her. He had no idea what to expect, and he sure did not think she would spill her life story while working on a weapon in Travis' hangar bay. Still, he figured his relative lack of trust of her would be relayed through that sentence alone. The weapon in question was a riffle though practiced hands had already reduced it to a collection of nearly unrecognizable parts. Alissa held what appeared to be an energy emitter of some kind and was quietly scrubbing at carbon deposits. Alissa nodded in response to the statement about her expertise, it was the primary goal of her training, though not the only goal, and continued her work quietly for a moment when he made his comment about not knowing anything about her, she picked up a small bottle and sprayed the emitter before continuing to scrub. “To me you seem to be the sort that values action over conversation, as we’ve worked together you have seen the results of my actions not my actions themselves, I imagine it would be difficult for you to learn anything about me that way” She held up the emitter quietly studying it for a moment before continuing her work “I know equally little about you I imagine” Z’Gato had trouble trying to identify just what kind of rifle she was working on, mostly due to the fact that it was in pieces, but for the most part, he was not entirely versed in human weaponry anyway. Sure, there were a few iconic weapons that humans were known to produce, but all in all, the Chozo was largely ignorant of most of the different kinds of pistols, rifles, and other small arms. He looked back over at Alissa, his eyes trying to look at her as if they might pierce into that brain of hers. “That is because it is often…difficult…for members of your race to understand me. Travis does, but that is a product of what he and I have been through,” He said, shaking his head a little. “I do prefer action over conversation…but the mission ahead will prove to be quite challenging,” He said, his momentary pause practically screaming ‘and I need to know if I can trust you.’ Still, he admired the kind of thoroughness she was giving to her weapon, a sign of a professional…or at least a clean freak. Making sure tools, weapons, and armor were clean and prepared for battle could mean many things however, either the sign of a meticulous eye or someone trained to look for such things. Either way, it was not enough to know that she was, perhaps, a professional. Sure, he knew of her skill and prowess in stealth, but he had never seen it first hand. Maybe that was the point. “Where did you receive your training?” He hazarded a guess. The question was more two-fold in the idea that he wanted to know IF she had been trained or not, as well as where she had received it. That did cause Alissa to stop as she looked up to Z'Gato a moment her eyes narrowing a moment as if to determine his intentions in asking the questions. Her body language changed, more guarded, almost tense, Alissa did not like thinking about her training. “you've likely never heard of it and certainly never been there” she returned to her work, her attention to detail was in part because she knew she could not replace any of the weapons or equipment she had brought with her. And in spite of or perhaps because of the evils of the coalition and Olympus technologies, they were some of the best weapons she had run across in the galaxy. “do you know much about the New Galactic Coalition?” She began reassembling the weapon quietly, it looked light weight, built for combat in tight spaces like city streets and buildings, like everything else she carried it had no markings, and was constructed from a sleek black material. She flipped a switch and the weapon folded in on its self, the barrel tucked in and most of the grip slipped away leaving a roughly rectangular object on the table. The reaction from Alissa was, probably, what Z’Gato should have expected, her body language changing a bit. Z’Gato did not know much about humans, really, as he used to see them as more vermin than anything else. He was not sure when that opinion changed, really…probably from his dealings with Travis, but at the same time, he could not help but look down upon humanity from time to time. Hence his relative ignorance of the species. One thing was for certain however: he must have hit a nerve. Z’Gato shook his head. “There are many organizations within the galaxy, and I hardly have time to memorize even half of them,” Z’Gato said a bit gruffly, though it was obvious he was curious. “Perhaps you could tell me,” He said, already thinking he was making some progress in figuring out just who this woman was and where she had come from. The weapon itself, however, was markedly impressive, collapsing upon itself in order to make it smaller for transport and ease of use, apparently. Very high quality, though Z’Gato had never seen a weapon quite like it before. The lack of markings was distinctly unsettling to the Chozo, considering the immense amount of laws humans seemed to have on virtually everything. Alissa looked toward Z’Gato a moment honestly mildly surprised he hadn’t heard that there were places he should not go at least. “Paranoid, militant, xenophobic, and belligerent” she said quietly “are the most common terms used by the other major galactic governments. They are a technically advanced police state, which places humanity above all others, even those with mutations or augmentation are pushed to the fringes. That is who trained me, I left for my own reasons, I did not leave on good terms. She produced a pistol clearly of the same make and began repeating the process from the first, breaking it down and starting to clean it quietly again. Z’Gato narrowed his eyes down at the pistol, noticing its similar make to the rifle, but once again, he was not familiar with the pistol nor its capabilities. If it was like most human small arms, however, it would be useless against his armor. At least, on first glance. “Trained by Xenophobes. And what, pray tell, does your training say about me?” He said, perhaps a bit more gruff than he might have meant, but at the same time, he did not really like the idea of traveling with someone that was trained to guarantee human supremacy. Not like it really mattered at this point with the Chozo. “And why leave them?” Alissa did not respond right away, truth was that she was making up her mind as to what to say. "About you specifically nothing at all, your armor though a good deal" She sighed quietly looking up at Z'Gato as it occurred to her that she is antagonizing him? It wasn't intentional she simply was answering his question about what her trainers said because it easier than the question of why she left. "I left because I am not a weapon" Z'Gato tilted his head as he looked at Alissa, confused and curious. "If you aren't a weapon...then why fight?" He asked. Alissa continued working on cleaning the pistol quietly for a long while before returning the question "why do you?" Z'Gato contemplated the question for a moment before answering truthfully. "It was what I always wanted as a child. To be a warrior of tale and renown. I dedicated my life to becoming a warrior, a weapon. Now, I find, it is the only thing I am good at...so I exercise my abilities as best as I can, because it is the only thing I know," The Chozo stated, perhaps not as proudly as he might have. Alissa continued her work quietly for a moment "Then I suspect you understand why I fight" she began to reassemble the pistol slowly "I have no talent for any other vocation, and I must survive with the skills I have" she held up the pistol a moment pulling an energy clip slamming it into handle before placing the the weapon down it collapsed as the other one had. "however I chose how my skills are used, the difference between a weapon and person I suppose" she began packing up her tool kit "satisfied?" Z'Gato nodded as he watched Alissa work. It seemed their stories were not too terribly different, really, but at the same time, there was always room for deception. Z'Gato was never one to really be good at deciphering lies from truth, so he always had to be on guard against those that would mislead him. Still...the air seemed a little clearer between them, at least for the moment. "For now," Z'Gato said, stepping away from the workbench towards his ship. |
Marching to the Black Gates...
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| +CEMP+ | Mar 9 2013, 10:09 PM Post #378 |
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Clockwork Master
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Jenosa held a bemused expression the entire time she opened both the mystery letter, and even more so when she began opening the box. As she unrolled the wrapping paper and held the dress unfurled before her, she had to openly admit, for a weapons smuggler, Jimmy sure knew what to send to a woman. Observant, with the move being a little...audacious to be sure, but all in good taste. The dress was her favorite color, and while she wasn't a complete fan of the spaghetti straps, she...rather liked the overall style. It brought back memory's of her high school prom; ho boy had there been some crazy good times. She remembered how she had the dance floor at one point and had a good crowd; and that was all after getting a little tipsy. Crazy good times indeed. Except now... "I have no idea when I'm going to use this," she mused, shaking her head lightly. ----------------- After remiscing and putting the dress somewhere she wouldn't forgot, she made her way through Alissa's ship. She blinked as she saw Z'Gato leave it, wondering why of all places he had been there. Internally, she shrugged, thinking it was Z'Gato being Z'Gato. She approached her friend, who seemed to have a 'hobby' of cleaning her equipment more meticulously than any other hunter she knew. She asked, curiously, "So, what did you want to speak to just me and Travis about? And why not everyone else?" Edited by CEMP, Mar 10 2013, 12:11 PM.
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"I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams is something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death." — Monty Oum | |
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| +CEMP+ | Mar 30 2013, 10:54 PM Post #379 |
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Clockwork Master
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(OOC: A little something to chew on while we wait for alissa ;)) It had been around 5 hours since Armoria had undergone the successful transfusion. 5 hours since she had amazed every scientist with her transformation. And 5 hours of since she began physchologically coping with the mutagen flowing within her system. Tamaki was impressed, and to a degree relieved, with how well Armoria was keeping herself together; true, there was her conditioning and her unique physiology, which had a partially stabilizing effect on the more...chaotic aspects of phazon; but still, her mind was so...young. Up until now, all the other past subjects had been normal volonteers who, aside from being aware of the consequences, had a solid identity. The after-effects of the procedure had been her biggest concern, more so than the chances of it succeeding. And for the most part, that was beginning to abate. The tension that had been so palpable throughout the facility now only lingered, albiet when Armoria wasn't around; wherever she went, wether its too or fro from her new room, she generated anxiousness around her. Still, having talked to their 'super soldier' a few more times, Armoria not only looked mentally stable, but ready to prove it too everyone in the facility. She liked that attitude, and told the woman if she ever did get resltess, she could go to the trainng section at any time. Now, as she made her way to the cafeteria for dinner, she mulled over the details of the post tranfusion analysis. To say it was fascinating might of sounded reduntant, but many insights had brought about; the most prominant in her being what their non-creepy Scurge expert had mentioned. That, unlike any of the other successes they had, Armoria held the potential to consistantly change over time; they could be slow and subtle, or sudden and drastic. The latter affect being the bigger concern; she could become someone, or something, else entirely, for good or ilk. But that was to be expected with the adaptive qualities of Scurge physiology in play. They would simply have to take it as it comes. She made an exasperated sigh as she moved with her beef and barely soup, and chicken, in hand. For all the money that had been poored into this facility, there wasn't a very diverse menu. The food itself wasn't bad, just that she yearned for something a bit more exotic, like sushi or a plate of phad tai. Something to celebrate their success; after all, here here had been stuck in this facility for almost a good solid 2 years, some away from their families for quite some time. Something refreshing would help freshen the mood. Speaking of moods...Tamaki raised her ear to the din of the cafeteria conversion, and got a good feeling of debate and questioning going about. Amongst it all, the name Jenkins came up a fair bit, and so she dubiously asked one of the good Confederation scientists sitting across from her about him. Having been there himself, the man explained with good precision the event. And Tamaki frowned. To be sure, Jenkins had made a good point on one part; they had to be careful not to get ahead of themselves. And there wasn't anything unreasonable in occaisonally cautious about Armoria's personality; and yet that was just it. Something about seeing this...girl grow up in such fashion had struck a cord with a portion of the scientists. And it wasn't the connection or emotions - not that alone at least - but rather...a niggling truth that none of them, including her, could quite yet grasp. As if they were on a verge of a revelation. What were those words the Fat man had spoke...Oujair, the words that seemed so proposterous, yet still made you think, she recalled. "How do we really know...if we're not conditioning ourselves, hmmm?" |
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"I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams is something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death." — Monty Oum | |
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| ~Alissa~ | Mar 31 2013, 04:05 PM Post #380 |
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Alissa looked up from her work as Jenossa came into the small space on her ship that served as an armory and workshop. She was cleaning another weapon, she found herself with a sort of energy that was unusual to her. Though the fact it came hand in hand with an anxiety over what she was going to share with Jenossa and Travis, though in truth she found she was more concerned about Travis, who she did not know as well. “I would prefer to wait for Mr. Clark before I start” she said placing the current item down quietly and standing moving to put things away quietly. She paused looking at her reflection in the case that housed one of her suits of armor. It wasn't long before Travis joined them and Alissa found herself faced with having to proceed in sharing a secret she had kept in all the years since making her escape. “I have a plan, that should secure our success. My plan will require I use skills that would either strain belief, or make you suspicious of me, for my plan to work I need trust” She paused a moment ordering her thoughts quietly taking a quiet breath before looking toward the two of them “I am telling the two of you rather than the whole group for my own reasons, chiefly because I trust both of you not to share what I am going to reveal of myself with the rest of the crew.” She looked toward Jenossa a moment “You are my friend, I trust you....but the others do not completely, as such the others will not trust me on your word...thats already been demonstrated.” she looked to Travis “I don't know you well, but from what I've seen you are...” she paused as if unsure the word that was coming to mind seemed correct “honorable...and worthy of trust, Jenossa trusts you and I respect her judgment, the others also trust you, and look to you for leadership.” She paused a moment as if to order her thoughts before she proceeded “Before I share my plan I am going to explain both why I have the skills I do, as well as how I can understand what project vertigo is without intelligence from the inside.” She looked towards Jenossa a moment “When we first met you asked me about my last name, and I avoided the question with half of the truth” she paused a moment, finding it more difficult than normal to order her thoughts, she wondered quietly how much of that was conditioning, and how much was nerves. “Achillies is the designation given to the subjects of the Achillies project. I was created to be a new type of soldier for the New Galactic Coalition by Olympus Technologies....I am an engineered organism created by a project with goals quite similar to what w have uncovered.” she paused a moment letting that sink in quietly “Every trait I have; reflexes, speed, strength, mental acuity, and so on was selected for and built into me before I even existed further built on with conditioning, and training in stealth, sabotage, infiltration, and....other skills” “To the Coalition, and Olympus, I was a weapon, a tool, not human. For a long time I was unaware that I....and all the others, are so much more than our controllers see us as. And so I stole my ship and left.” She was quiet for a while, watching the pair of them, waiting for questions....or rejection. She gave them a while before she proceeded. “As far as the base is concerned I see we have a few objectives, Capture Delacroix, discover what the project has been doing and damage their ability to proceed, recover what was taken from Jenossa” she paused quietly “I have a plan that should get us into that base, and get control of the back door. I can infiltrate as a technician, while inside I can gather intelligence, and do some groundwork” she moved over to a display beginning to key in a few commands quietly “I can get into the facility, get copies of their data, as well as ensure the data and any backups will not survive our endgame. I can also change the access code for the tram out the back to allow us to use it, but should Delacroix or any one else attempt to use it, I was considering having it stop half way till we can retrieve them.” “lastly I think we can flush Delacroix out the back, if we simulate an attack by the NGC we should be able to cause sufficient panic in the base. I have enough coalition technology on board my ship to make a convincing show of a cleaning operation. If the military presence at the base is strong enough they will assume a much larger attack is underway, they will be focused on the front, giving us ample opportunity to complete our objectives” she stopped and looked between the two of them, waiting, she would not go into details unless they asked her. |
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2:55 PM Jul 11