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After-Effect; Post-AC RP
Topic Started: Oct 24 2010, 10:41 AM (21,537 Views)
~Deadly Aim~
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Deadeye '17, eager to move on from the slow-motion train wreck that was last year.
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
(Oh crap, Z'gato is right, I didn't think about that...!)

Anybody who knew Travis well knew that he was a man of strong faith and conviction. A Christian; He had faith in Jesus Christ, arguably even now the most influential personage in the history of Earth.

Anyone familiar with Christian principles and articles of faith also knew it was anathema for them to kill the young and unborn. In fact, it was a widely held belief among Christians that life began at conception. And as Christians viewed every life as a sacred gift from God, to break this principle was little different from committing murder in the eyes of God.

Which was why, as Z'gato suggested it, Travis' demeanor became uncharacteristically stiffened. He knew that the experiments that Delacroix and Jenkins were doing here had to be stopped, without question. Phazon alone was simply too dangerous; their "research" was not only illegal and unethical, it was foolish and reckless for them to be playing around with a mutagen known to be radioactive and even semi-sentient.

And that was the least of their concerns; if Jenosa was to be believed, they were attempting to weaponize the Scourge virus; if it was anything like X Parasite, allowing it to be released from this facility could enable a galactic disaster.

But as much as he wanted to stop it... what was the means to do so?

Truthfully, he would probably try to find to find a way to stop the madness without staining his hands in innocent blood, if he could. Or for that matter, having Z'gato get his hands dirty, as well.

"We'll... we'll see how we deal with that bridge if we come to it, Z'gato." He finally managed a reply, finally relaxing as the tram began to pull into the base.

It was still fairly dark; the secondary lighting systems had been turned on across the base, and the mechanoid diversion was in progress if the shaking and familiar screams of blaster fire were any indicator.

And right in position as planned was Alissa, ready to spring to action.

"Damn, you were really born to infiltrate top complexes like this. You really know how to stay hidden till the last moment, I see," Jenosa commented, motioning to the unconscious soldiers.

(She's anxious; then again, I don't blame her. This whole thing has to have been more violating for Jenosa more than anyone else.) Travis thought to himself, noting how the redhead carried herself off the tram and onto the platform.

"Now then," Jenosa's tone became more even, serious as she hoisted her backpack, "I believe this is yours. And sorry we're late, traffic was hell."

As Alissa accepted her armor, Travis nodded. "I won't elaborate, but let's just say we may have been a head short thanks to the 'traffic'. Anyways... we all know the plan, so let's get ready. Once Alissa's suited up, we move for the labs, and for Jenkins and Delacroix. Once we have both under our control, I'll call the fleet on station to take custody of the base and the two of them.

"I don't think I need to say this, but just watch yourselves. These guys are Marines, not your typical Federation soldier. If basic is anything like it was when I went through it, they are more then competent to fight us and give us trouble. Stunners -only- if you have to fight them. Security mechs are fair game if you have to fight them, though.

"Everyone ready?" He nodded, setting his wrist-cannon to stun and reattaching the Fenris to his back after loading it with a fresh clip.
Edited by Deadly Aim, Oct 21 2013, 11:18 AM.
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~Alissa~
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The defenders found their systems were not as they had left them before the power outage had occurred.

“Sir…Information systems is reporting the system never went off line but they are unable to log in, non essential systems appear to have been wiped clean.” Came the first report of just how wrong things were going.
“Sir the Quartermaster is reporting the armory doors are fused shut! He is requesting a cutting torch” which meant the heavy weapons that were not available unless they were out before the lights went off
“Sir Security doors are not responding the valid key cards or security codes”
“Auto torrents surrounding the computer core have activated and fired on techs trying to reach it to affect repairs.”
“sir one of the mechs has started destroying vehicles” Though the AI controlling the machines was working hard to avoid killing the soldiers it had determined the vehicles needed to be destroyed before staff could get into them

And the hits just kept on coming; it was beginning to appear that their saboteur had been both thorough and effective.
-----

Alissa looked over her shoulder as the doors from the Tram slid open turning to face the group as they entered the small entry room. It wasn’t possible to see her face with the mast and goggles in place but her body language did seem to relax the smallest amount. She reached and took the pack from Jenossa which looked as if it were made of a shiny black ceramic or metal before glancing to eight unconscious marines with their hands bound behind them and every weapon Alissa could find on them piled in the far corner.

She looked back to the group “I believe Vega has blown our cover, a squad was sent to collect me” she said starting with the information she felt was important. “So far as I’ve been able to discover they have once complete subject…..fully grown”

She swung the pack on her back which looked to be made of a black ceramic or metal more than fabric, once it was on her back it activated and seemed to shift into a sort of crystalline liquid as the nano-machines that comprised the plating began moving to their place on her body. In less than a minute hard plates had formed over her chest, abdomen, arms, legs, and the rest of her body while still allowing for movement, a helmet and clear faceplate had covered her head. A pair of pistols which had been contained in the pack were now clipped to the small of her back where they could easily be reached.

“Jenkins and Delacroix are likely in the command center with the attack underway but they will be well guarded there”
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~DarkKnightCuron~
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Starfeather
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
When their ride into the facility finally finished, the Chozo was feeling, at least, a little less worse for wear. Albeit, his injuries were still significant, but he was no longer bleeding internally, nor was he having too many problems breathing. The occasional cough here or groan there were the only signs left that he had taken such an impressive blow to his torso—aside from the obvious blast damage to his Phazon Armor plating. It didn’t help that his entire core muscle group felt sore as hell, but at this point, he was just lucky to even be alive. For now, however, they had a job to do—a job that everyone did not seem to be overly fond of.

He merely nodded towards Travis’ reply, admitting that the conversation piece was a grim one. To leave that kind of question for later might have seemed cowardly, but there were more important things to focus the mind on—namely linking up with Alissa and actually getting deeper into the complex. As much as Z’Gato respected Travis, he also felt for him. He did not want to take unnecessary life, no matter the risk, it seemed, a gesture that Z’Gato was growing to appreciate.

I won’t let him stain his hands. Even if I have to go behind his back, his anger is a much better cost than his dignity.

As the trio met up with Alissa at the rendezvous point, the warrior could not help be hear the rumble of combat high above them—though he could have been imagining it—noticing their diversion working out fairly well. By the looks of things, it seemed like it would be somewhat smoother sailing from here on out, if luck decided to stick with them. The Chozo turned towards the group as Jenosa welcome Alissa back into the team, the red-haired woman gesturing towards the unconscious soldiers laying around. At that point, she gave Alissa her armor back, likely a more welcomed gesture than their mere arrival. While the conversation took place, Z’Gato temporarily took point, covering the doors and hallways leading into the facility proper. The last thing he wanted to have happen was to come under fire while Alissa was changing.

Then the rules of the fight were laid out. Their opposition, if any, would likely be incredibly competent, trained to be the best that the Federation had to offer, causing a strange feeling to well up within the Chozo’s stomach. It wasn’t fear, and it wasn’t anxiousness; It was thrill. Perhaps, finally, time to test himself against a true enemy, yet slaying them was out of the question. Once again, the Chozo reminded himself of the fact that he did not have that kind of proper setting in his arm cannon—he had never needed it before a mission like this. That left hand-to-hand combat only for him, except when Security mechs showed up. He racked the slide on his arm cannon, loading in a fresh Super Missile into the chamber as if to accent the silent point he made during Travis’ pep talk. I’ll handle the mechs.

“Vega is here, then, Travis. If he told them our plan—or at least guessed at it—then resistance into the command center may be heavier than expected—“ he started to say, until Alissa started talking about ‘one complete subject.’ Fully grown, eh? The possible scenarios that ran through Z’Gato’s mind were limited, more out of fatigue than anything else, but it was enough to accent his previous point. “The thrill of the hunt just got more interesting,” the Chozo said, leading the way down the hallway, though if any of the others wanted to take point, he wouldn’t object—for now, anyway.
Marching to the Black Gates...
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~The Boss~
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Native Son

Everything was going to hell.

Anything automated was a lost cause. Orders came down to simply destroy all turrets and drones. They'd figure out what they could salvage later, right now the priority was to survive and regain control of their fortress.

At the armory, the cutting torch had arrived and was being put to work, but it would still be at least another two minutes before they were done. To the troopers waiting, it felt like a small miracle that they hadn't been attacked while they were standing there. What were these people waiting for, they wondered

Around the base, casualties were mounting rapidly. Nobody had been killed as of yet, but many of the injuries were serious, and in some cases pretty gruesome. Up in the control room, it was agreed that the heavy hitters needed to come out, and fast.

.......................

They called him the Machine.

The nickname was something of a misnomer, as there was actually nothing cybernetic about him. He was, in fact, one of the earliest alumni of Project Vertigo. The name referred to the cold, efficient way that he went about his business.

That manner was in full effect at the moment, as he wordlessly marched down the corridor at the head of a squadron of Commandos, his determination burning so intensely one could practically smell it. Everything was falling apart all around him, and yet he only had one thing on his mind.

Of course, what the troops might have seen as being cool, calm and collected masked something else entirely. In fact, one of the first things that the Pirates had noticed about phazon was the effect that it had on one's mental state. Humans, on the other hand, had been much slower to grasp this fact. Sure, in principle they knew that it made people crazy. But they didn't fully understand what that meant, because the subjects didn't seem crazy. So far, all of them appeared to be not only sane, but incredibly competent and effective. As a result, most Federation scientists tended to write off what the Pirates had called Phazon Madness as the worst-case scenario; an extreme example of what happens with improper exposure outside of a controlled environment.

Then again, if they could see the world through the Machine's eyes, they might feel differently.

.......................

"Dr. Ouijair?"

A young, very nervous looking corporal whose job it often was to deliver these sorts of messages stuck his head into the lab.

"Colonel Jenkins says that Armoria has her orders," he said. "Stop them. That's it, that's all he said. Literally, that's all he said. Two words. 'Stop them.'

"And..." the young man cleared his throat. "Mr. Delacroix requests that you meet with him in his office once she is deployed."
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Clockwork Master

As soon as she was given the order, Armoria was almost lightning fast to gear up. There was no lengthy ceremonially slipping on the suit either, not certainly by hand; given it's design, putting on the suit was comberson enough, and in times like these where response was everything, the suit was literally zapped onto her via specialized teleportation technology. No fuss or huff, Armoria would simply approach the suit's glass container, punch a few buttons, and the suit would dematerialize, reappearing, via accurate sensor readings, briefly as a bright, white energy surrounding her body.

The effect was sleek. The suit had rematerialized all around her body, not an atom out of place, in a flash, and fit comfortably as though she had actually put it on by hand. All the systems checked, flexing her hands and priming her arm cannon, she felt a rush of eagerness to join the battle.

And oh she would, for she saluted Oujair when he met up with her. With a wicked grin, he said, "By now you're probably aware zat the zee base is under attack. What has also been reported is zat we have enemy forces coming through the back route, which has been uploaded to your HUD's map. You will know they're the enemy when you'll see them, and your orders, by Jenkin's words, are simply this: 'Stop them.'"

Those last two words were all that he need to say to have Armoria acknowledge them with a salute across the chest, and a burning fire in her eyes.

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

Oujair entered Delacroix's office with an almost insidious smile on his face. "So what is it you want, er Delacroix? Subject observation? Clandestine murder? Insurance?"
---------------

"What's this subject...like? Anything about it that we need to worry?" Jenosa asked Alissa darkly, and added in general, "In any case, I'm game for this, as I've always been."

Inwardly, however, Jenosa wasn't sure 'how' game for this she was.
"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~
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Alissa looked toward Jenossa a moment, and found she was thankful for the mask as she found herself reluctant to share the details she had learned about the subject they had created from Jenossa’s blood.

“They have similar abilities to your own” she said quietly “though with a successful Phazon infusion she is impressively strong.”
Alissa paused a moment, she was unsure of how to break the news but knew that the rest of the team needed to know, and more to the point that Jenossa deserved to know. She reached up and released the catch on her helmet so she could remove it and look her friend in the eye.

“They cloned you….” She said at last even as a constructed being Alissa knew she was unique; all of the Achilles subjects were genetically individuals; she could understand the sort of violation being cloned like that might be. “But she isn’t you” Alissa said stressing the point showing more depth of compassion than most thought her capable of.

Alissa moved glancing toward the others for a moment before she moved and pulled her helmet back into place. “We need to get moving….they have issued orders that will neutralize many of my attempts to slow them down.”

---

Back in the control room

“sir, internal doors have locked and are not responding to override commands”

“Sir…communications just reported the transmitter has been running at capacity since just before the blackout. There is an encrypted data stream transmitting to an unknown receiver, they are unable to stop the stream, the encryption does not match known algorithms”

“Sir Information systems is reporting that servers are going offline after wiping themselves….there is a massive upload in process, exabytes have been transmitted already….sir….the vertigo servers are already offline”
---
In geostationary orbit over the facility the blackbird sat cloaked quietly taking up every scrap of information going through the transmitter and pushing it to the storage they had brought on board, all of it was to be evidence later. The side effect of the upload however was that long range transmissions were not able to be sent through the facilities transmitter.
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~The Boss~
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Native Son

Delacroix's office was a small, nondescript room situated amongst a bank of similar rooms with very little to differentiate it from the others. The Colonel had the big office, as he was the head man around here, while Delacroix simply needed some temporary digs for whenever he was here.

As Oujair walked in and greeted Delacroix, he soon discovered that the office was empty, and he had been speaking to no one. He never saw Jimmy hiding behind the door, coming up behind him to club him in the back of the head with his pistol.

.......................

When Oujair came to a few minutes later, he found himself tied to a chair in the middle of the office. On the desk, Delacroix's computer was running some sort of program, in addition to playing some cool, calming jazz music. Leaning up against the wall was a duffel bag, similar to the ones issued to the troops, contents unknown. Standing over him was Jimmy Vega, sleeves rolled up and arms crossed, staring the scientist down.

"Righty or lefty?" he calmly asked.

(Cemp, let me know if this is cool)
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Unlike most common scientists, when Oujair woke and saw Jimmy, he didn't stutter in fear or confusion. In fact, he made a rather creepy smile when Jimmy posed a question. "I'm a righty," he spoke with eery enthusiasm, "Now zis is a twist. Pray tell, you must be zee Vega man zat comes in with ol' Delcroix's 'tech' orders. So what can I do for you?"
"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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~The Boss~
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Native Son

"Righty," Jimmy repeated. Then he calmly drew his pistol from his waistband and shot Oujair in the right hand.

"Alright Doc, I need you to listen to me very carefully now" he said, kneeling down to get to his level. "Hey! Listen to me!" He lightly slapped the doctor on the face. "I know it hurts, Doc. Pain is good for you. Good for the soul."

He stood up and tucked the gun back into his pants. "You a God-fearing man, Doc? Can't imagine that you are, being a man of science and all. Me, I never had much use for religiosity myself. It's kind of an impediment, given my line of work. But there are certain things I still believe in. Like penance. The notion that God will forgive your sins so long as you properly atone.

"Now, some people think you just fall down on your knees and throw your hands in the air like Saul on the road to Damascus and then all is forgiven." He knelt back down and got right up in Oujiar's face, speaking softly but with an ominous edge. "But it don't work like that. We must bleed for our sins, Doc."

One more time, Jimmy stood back up and started pacing around the room like a professor delivering a lecture. "Not only are you creating abominations, you're stealing other peoples' souls to do it, so to speak. Infringing on both God and the Devil's turf... I don't think there's enough blood in your body to atone for that. Which is why you're you're not just gonna suffer, you're gonna fix your mistake, or else the next bullet is gonna splatter your great big fuckin' egghead brain all over the wall.

"Now... how do we stop the girl?"
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~Deadly Aim~
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Deadeye '17, eager to move on from the slow-motion train wreck that was last year.
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Travis seemed iron-focused now that the group was actually on the move. With chaos erupting inside the base, he wanted to end this as quickly as possible, before they faced heavy resistance from the Marines.

If basic was anything like when he went through it, these guys were probably not scared at all by how easily they had infiltrated the complex. In fact, he had a feeling they were tearing at the bit to get their hands on them. He couldn't blame them, he supposed; for all that they knew, the hunters were a bunch of random thugs who had foolishly picked a military base to plunder, and Marines didn't take kindly to home invasion.

And this not accounting for the other startling revelation: Jenosa had been cloned. *Cloned.*

It suddenly made sense... Phazon, a blood sample, secrecy and employment of criminal middlemen like Delacroix. He wasn't fully certain, but Travis had a good idea of what Jenkins was planning.

And it pissed him off. How many more "Corruption" incidents was it going to take for the brass to realize that Phazon was not something that could be controlled...? Much less combined with the.... "Scurge" virus Jenosa had detailed, if that was part of their goals?

"Jenosa... Alissa is right. She may have your face, may possibly even use some of your abilities. But she's not you." Travis nodded, using security key uploaded to his visor to open a door. "This way..."

Still... this raised another question. If Jenkins had done exactly what he thought, then it was possible that the "fruit of his labors" had been released onto the prowl.

Whether it was a woman, or a monster, Travis knew this: Phazon and such was involved. There was going to be trouble.

"Watch your sectors; I suspect we're not going to be alone for much longer... be ready to use your stunners."
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