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| Vergo Flux (SC RP); It's a working title | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 1 2011, 02:28 PM (8,270 Views) | |
| ~Alissa~ | Nov 7 2016, 08:34 PM Post #201 |
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Thea transferred herself to the holo-grid appearing at her full height though off to the side looking over the platform with mild interest, her eyes scanning what was laid out before her, however, her own sensors along with the information she got from her "borrowed" sensor access from the Hyperion itself was what she was processing. Thea then turned her attention toward the captain at his query "Based on behavioral models this ship is not the target, a single passenger is." Thea turned and brought up a few holographic displays showing several groups of marines making their way through the ship's hallways. "these teams are moving in a search pattern, they are not, however, persuing easy means of extermination, nor are they detaining personal that are not directly hindering their efforts." Thea paused a moment, on one of the displays the hanger that the blackbird was stuck inside could be seen, a team of marines entered and started toward the ship, she fired her ion cannons once, and weapons meant to punch holes in ships vaporized the foot soldiers. "Operative Achilles is in route to the hanger to equip..." _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- Alissa led Lenna and presumably her strange companion through the corridors of the ship, guided by her HUD and a map from Thea, she was carefully avoiding marines at this point. twice she had pushed the pair into hiding, though she found the soldiers slow and loud she was in no hurry to engage without most of her gear, and neither of her companions was armed and armored. "Do either of you know dominion protocol in a situation like this, what is the next step?" |
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| ~The Boss~ | Nov 30 2016, 09:17 PM Post #202 |
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Native Son
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"...my armor and my strength are formidable among men, and I may make plans, but God guides my steps." There was that grin again. Grace just had a way of smiling that seemed to encompass so many different, even contradictory meanings simultaneously. To call it inscrutable was not unlike calling the ocean wet. "Be that as it may," she said, "that don't mean the Devil ain't comin' for ya." She felt something. A presence in the corridor with them. She wouldn't have been able to see it, not without the proper equipment, but whether it was through training, experience, or just plain instinct, she knew it was there. Someone was behind her. "I do believe that's him now." She stood there silently, nonchalantly, as Travis sprung into action, barely moving a muscle. And while her grin faded into a blank expression, that look was no less indecipherable. When he was done with the saboteur, she gave him a little shrug, as if to say I could've taken him but chose not to. She picked up her assailant's knife, which was far more interesting to her than the high-powered rifle that Travis took off of him. She ran her thumb down the blade. Nice and sharp... sharp enough to shave with. Knives were definitely better than guns, in her opinion. Silent, sneakier, more her style. Let Jimmy have all the guns in the universe, and let him name them after every woman he'd ever slept with, or wanted to sleep with. A fine blade such as this made her every bit as happy as guns made him. Well, maybe not quite that happy. For that, she'd need something than ran on batteries. Travis was shouting something, but she was barely listening, instead just standing there unflinching as chaos reigned all around them, like the eye of a storm, as the bullets flew past her. The way she was reacting to this whole situation was completely wrong... or it would have been if it wasn't entirely consistent with everything he knew about her. She'd always seemed just a bit off somehow. Maybe she really was the Devil. He continued to chat with his AI as she pilfered what she could from the bodies, including another pistol and a few frag grenades. She left the rifle on the ground - after all, she already had her Grinch, and if it came down to it, if she really needed one, she was sure there be another one. Meanwhile, Travis was clearly growing increasingly frustrated with Constantine's inability to aid them at the moment. "Screw the old man," Grace said, dashing over to the blast doors and opening up a panel. It only took her about thirty seconds to hotwire it and shut the barricades, an eternity for an AI, but just enough time for two humans. "This way!" she shouted, grabbing him by the shoulder. ................... Grace didn't move like a soldier, purposefully with her weapon at the ready. Rather, she practically glided across the floor, weapon still on her back, the mindset of someone looking to get out as fast as they could rather than seek out and kill the enemy. A thief, a spy, not a warrior. She barely made a sound, even running. The fact that her feet even touched the ground at all was kind of amazing in and of itself. She came to a corner a stopped, pressing up against the wall and taking a second to peek around the corner before quickly pulling back. She glanced over at Travis and held up three fingers, then unsling the Grinch and grabbed a flashbang. She smiled and winked at him, then tossed it around the corner. |
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| ~Deadly Aim~ | Dec 7 2016, 03:49 PM Post #203 |
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Deadeye '17, eager to move on from the slow-motion train wreck that was last year.
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That... there is something just plain "not right" in that woman's head. Travis was in utter disbelief as Grace casually walked - literally strolled in some cases - through fallen bodies of three of the Dominion's power-armored soldiers, pilfering their belongings. How she had not yet been hit by enemy rounds or a ricochet was beyond him, but he recognized the look in her eyes to some degree; the unnatural cool and calm of somebody who was a veteran of many battlefields. Of course, as she did that, Travis had begun using the barricades to advance over into her direction, acting as a convenient distraction for the marines to keep Grace from being turned to bloody ribbons and mulch. In the heat of the fighting, Travis had scanned the armaments of their enemy, and found that the backbone of this invasion force were known as the "Dominion Terran Marine Corps". These armors were in many ways similar to his own on a mechanic principle level (though the actual mechanics differed), but lacked the superior sophistication on protection, considerably lighter weight, much smaller body profile, mobility, energy shielding and power that his armor provided; though these guys may have the potential to be an issue in physical combat, but the superior construction Travis' own armor and weapons would likely prove more than enough to power him on through. Still, the best strategy was arguably "keep one's distance". Still, as time passed, Constantine was taking far too long to undo the lock to the next corridor. They had to get out there, and quickly. That was when Grace's shout caught his attention as he ducked to avoid an incoming salvo of metal spikes from the marines' C-14 "Impaler" gauss rifles. "Screw the old man," She had shouted as she wormed her way through cover and gunfire. It seems she realized what I was waiting on. Travis realized as watched Grace begin to fidget with a panel interface. Can't say that I blame her...! Travis continued to draw enemy fire and distract for the much more vulnerable Grace, until he felt a hand be placed onto his shoulder. Instinctively, Travis whirled around to address what he could only presume to be another threat, until he realized Grace had wormed her way back over to him. Though he couldn't fully hear her over the din of the C-14s firing off, Travis was able to easily read what she was saying: "This way!" Nodding, Travis began to sprint, acting as moving cover for Grace as she slipped behind him and through the bulkhead she had hotwired open, then slipping through himself, but not before tossing something from his belt that Grace would at least immediately recognize as a flashbang grenade. Somebody cried out in alarm as they saw the charge begin to hum to life in Travis' hand, who then tossed it, shuttered the bulkhead to protect the two of them from the debilitating effects its detonation. A few moment's later, Travis could be seen using a specialty welding setting on his suit's wrist-cannon to partially seal the bulkhead shut before he hacked into the control panel and disabled the functionality on the other side. If at all possible, he didn't want to mess with the Hyperion anymore than that; Swann would likely read the both of them the riot act if he did any major "renovations". "That'll at least stall them if they try to use this door to come after us," Travis grunted as he surveyed his work. Not a full seal, but it would be more than adequate to throw a monkey wrench into the marines' intent to pursue them. As the two of them continued to move through the corridors, they could hear the rigors of combat erupting all around them in nearby halls; Travis cringed as he heard one or two people screaming in horror, having only an inkling of their fate. There was nothing they could do but to keep moving, keep trying to find a route to the main halls and then to the safety of being near the bridge. He also had a chance to, perhaps, peer into the state of mind that Grace was feeling. And for him, that was perhaps the somewhat confusing piece of the entire puzzle; though she was moving with a sense of purpose, it wasn't the steadfastness of a soldier. Rather, Travis could see the subtle but sure signs of one thing: fear. Indeed, Grace moved about more like a burglar than any field operative. She didn't want to fight, she wanted to flee. And yet... and yet, her surety of demeanor seemed to render that whole idea into question. One thing was certain: Grace was quite the enigma, the chaos to Travis' order. The fact that the two were fighting alongside one another was weird enough. And then, when they came to a corner, Grace stopped, pressing up against the wall and taking a second to peek around the corner before quickly pulling back. She glanced over at Travis and held up three fingers, then unsling the Grinch and grabbed a flashbang. To verify, Travis fished around with the visor settings before confirming with surety that there were three Dominion marines, standing around and talking. About what was of little to no consequence; while Travis would have liked an opportunity to gather intel on the situation, these marines wouldn't allow them the chance. And then grace just... smiled, winked at him, then tossed her flashbang around the corner. Yep. Something is just... different about her. Travis reasoned to himself. However, just as they were to spin the corner to subdue the marines, the bulkhead door nearby exploded next to them. Travis flung himself in front of Grace to protect her from the shower of jagged debris, the metal bouncing off the shielding of his suit before taking up a fire position as a curtain of smog drifted through the room. And then, through the gloom, Travis saw what seemed to be the barrels of a vulcan cannon roar to life, the running lights of a CMC-300 armor suit cutting through the cloud. Travis could hear the dying screams of the three marines before the mysterious armored combatant stepped out of the smoke and into the light, nearby sprinklers and fans activating to clear the hall of the gas. And then, Travis immediately recognized the new combatant and immediately groaned on the inside. "Well, if it ain't the beautiful lil' convict mouse from earlier and the comic convention boy," Tychus' visor rose up into the helmet frame, revealing that he was puffing away at a positively huge cigar. "Good thing I found you when I did. Sorry for the, uh... 'dynamic' entrance." "Tychus." Travis responded curtly, nodding his head; he wasn't sure whether he should just be grateful that the Lord has used this man to bail them out or if he should complain. "What are you doing down here?" "Could ask you the same thing, kid." Tychus grunted back as he casually set the safety on his positively massive vulcan gun and shouldered it. "The old wizard AI mentioned to Captain Horner that you two were trying to get out of here, so he sent ol' Tychus to bail you out. Good thing for it, too; this whole section of the ship's lousy with enemy boarders." "Alright, that makes sense," Travis replied, forgetting that nothing from the past 72 hours was really 'making sense' anymore. "Where's Commander Raynor? How about Miss Arma and Miss Achilles? All of my companions?" "Don't worry; all your friends are fine, latest I've heard. Jimmy boy is coordinatin' our defense and is tryin' to get our boys off of the rock we're orbitin' around so we can get the hell outta dodge." Tychus took another puff from his cigar. "Your wizard AI is pilotin' that little frigate of yours around; the Dominion is just givin' that thing a wide berth, they don't know what to do with it. Gotta say, wizard-man is an impressive AI; he's freein' up the adjutants to micromanage other parts of the ship, and that lil' girl AI is helping too." "Not surprised." Travis replied. "So now that you've found us, what's the plan, Tychus?" "Now?" Tychus' visor closed back up. "Now we're gonna get our asses to Jimmy an' help with the defense. Jus' follow old Tychus an' everything'll go nice and smooth. I know a way around these boarders, so hopefully we aren't gonna have to fight our way to the bridge. You kids ready to move...?" Tychus unshouldered his vulcan cannon and began to lead the way, stepping over the shredded metal husks of the three dead Dominion marines. Taking a moment to shut their eyes with his hand, Travis waved for Grace to follow with them. Edited by Deadly Aim, Dec 7 2016, 03:52 PM.
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| +CEMP+ | Jan 2 2017, 08:20 PM Post #204 |
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Clockwork Master
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Horner's brow furrowed when the AI gave him the description. He personally had no way of know confirming this beyond Thea's own words - true, so far Dominion marines hadn't needlessly shot any civilians, which was usual in itself. Even when Dominion marines were were twitchy. If Thea's words were correct, then who was the target, and how did they find them here on the Hyperion of all places. It wasn't like they advertised their current location, unless - "Thea," he requested, "would it be possible for you to sweep the Hyperion for signals broadcasting our location? Or at the very least determine who it is they're after?" ================== Y'know, Ghelm reflected as he followed two feme fatals, I really shouldn't be feeling a lot less candid about being in this situation. I mean, really... He was, after all, just one of your typical, low wage, grunge working Terran civilians who, up to this point, had been living a normal life. A safe, orderly, albeit uneventful life as cargo transport technician – which had suddenly been thrown into the play of an overwhelming science fiction holo-vid. By all rights, he should be going stir crazy from everything that's happened; and was currently happening. Instead, without complaint, he found himself just as excited as he was terrified to be along for the ride. Yeah, his heart was pounding, his breathing shaky, and not just because he wanted nothing to do with Terran-to-Terran violence. He could sense that Lenna's loyalties were still torn, and he got the distinction - he just did - that they were here for her. Which, if confronted, could place her in a bind. At the same time, he found himself equipped with a mental clarity he had never experienced before. Ever. It had been as if he had gone throughout most of his life with his brain scrambled, not even realizing it until it had been unscrambled. Now, even the familiar was processed anew, painting a paradigm he had never witnessed before. One which gave him an invigorating sense of purpose to help Lenna through her existential crisis. Even if that included just sharply nudging to snap her out of a trance, like now, when Alissa asked about Dominion protocol. "Oh, yes, I would," Lenna respond rapdily, giving Ghelm a brief glare before turning back to Alissa. "Tell me what you need to know?" In the din of battle, while Lenna explained protocol, Ghelm thought he heard a tiny, almost inaudible voice in the back of his head: "Agent Lenna, where are you?" |
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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~ | Jan 7 2017, 05:39 PM Post #205 |
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Thea seemed to grow thoughtful a moment “I am still parsing out the different carriers used by the represented groups, additionally I’ve never encountered any of these specific encryption procedures” she looked to Horner with flat blue eyes “It is taking me longer than normal to develop cyphers, these ships are full of unknown signals at this moment however I have begun to identify dominion signals, beginning analysis.” Thea was built for espionage, after all, this was not outside of her skill set. However, her loyalty was to Alissa first. ***operative, I have identified two signals on board that are not associated with the rest of the dominion forces. One seems to be moving in a search pattern, the other is moving with you. I have not shared this information with the command of this vessel*** Alyssa was making good time with her charges, avoiding patrols, they were getting close to the hangar now. ***If you can get them into the blackbird I can block any outgoing signal and attempt to neutralize its source. The signal is similar in some ways to the coalition tracking signal, unidirectional, low powered but intended to carry over distance, it is subtle*** “Understood, ” Alissa replied over her communicator to Thea, without relaying any of the additional information to the pair that was following her. In truth, there wasn’t an outward sign in the former coalition operative’s demeanor that suggested she had been delivered any interesting news beyond a tactical update. “We are close to the hangar where my ship is, I need my equipment before I proceed and it will be a safe place to shelter while this incursion is addressed,” she said as they turned the corner toward the hangar and began making their way, the sleek form of the blackbird coming into view. |
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| +CEMP+ | Jan 27 2017, 12:32 PM Post #206 |
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Clockwork Master
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"I hope so," Lenna replied to Alissa. Despite having barely exerted themselves, Ghelm could see that Lenna was breathing heavily. He had a good suspicion why, and, well, he really felt sorry for her. He really did. She had just been someone doing her job, even if that job involved blindly following orders and murdering people in the process. And that was just it. She had been blindly following orders, right up until now, at which point it was like she had become partially aware of the chains that bound her. Morales conflicted with that of loyalty and patriotism, and she was caught in some kind of existential crisis that even he wasn't sure how it was happening. Only that he felt absolutely aware of those chains since they met. Not necessarily about her exact condition and neural implant, but rather, a phantom sensation that he got while around her; and, in particular, when he looked at her. It wasn't a something he questioned at all, really. Why, he wasn't entirely sure, but he got the distinction that this, specifically, was not new to him; how, though, he wasn't sure. All that he knew was that this had been occuring in his life for quite some time, way before he met Lenna. A life that, in fairness, largely felt like a big, fat blur until now. Not that it bothered him so much as Lenna's current situation, which looked like it was about to get worse when a cold voice echoed through his head. A voice that clearly wasn't meant for him Agent P45293Q, report. Why have you deviated from your original assignment? He froze, and, in the corner of his eye, so did Lenna – which was safe timing given they were waiting for more Dominion marines to pass. Even so, he doubted that anything was safe as going to come from this...'conversation.' One where he felt cogs spinning in the back of his mind that, in sudden realization, were not really his own. It was...a strange sensation that was difficult for him to describe, and when the buzzing of cogs stopped, it was quickly followed by another mental response. Very well. As per our given protocol, we will eliminate your associates so we bring you in for debriefing. Alarms klaxons rang inside Ghelm's mind, and once again, he could feel a flurry of panicked mental working going on inside the back of his head. The whole thing was beginning to feel surreal. Sure, the situations he had gone through had been strange in their own way, but those he found, well, exciting. This, well, was a little unsettling, because it was almost like he could hear another individual's thought process churning in the back of his mind. And that individual was Lenna, because once again, out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a flash of panic cross her eyes. All before her brow frowned in grim, desperate thought. Ghelm felt a click in the back of his mind the equivalent of a snap decision that he actually had no idea was. Thoughts that seemed like his own, but were neither distinguishable or really his own. He felt a few more familiar clicks, which was followed by one last response. Really? Then, for the Dominion, we expect you to help us capture them. We have preppared an ambush in their hanger. Another flicker of thoughts. We have a plan for that too. Now prepare yourself. We see you're almost there. Ghelm found himself gulping. Maybe Lenna had done the same, because just as they entered the hanger, he got the distinction they were not alone at all. He barely managed to get his surroundings when, out of nowhere, something the equivalent of a small RPG flew strait at the Black Bird. Whether there had been shields or not didn't seem to matter, because upon impact, an electrical explosion erupted and enaced all of the black in some kind of electric bubble. A bubble that seemed to completely many of the ship's mechanism's, including it's engines, close bay door, and weaponry. What else it might affect was unknown, but for what had affecting the ship, almost everything she had access to – almost everything she used to interact with the real world – had been disabled. Not that this was in Ghelm's mind, only that upon reflex, Ghelm found his hand latching onto Lenna's before it barely got moving. Only for the air to shimmer behind him with invisible blow striking him in the head. And there was more than one shimmer in the hanger. |
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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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| ~The Boss~ | Feb 14 2017, 07:43 PM Post #207 |
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Native Son
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In response to his bellowing, Tychus got a ringing in his ears, as Grace banged hard on the side of his helmet with her pistol. "What in the name of six pound eight ounce baby Jesus is wrong with you?" she exclaimed, getting right up in his face. "Rollin' up in here like a goddamn elephant on roller skates, making me waste a perfectly good flashbang... you think those things grow on trees? You think I can just put in the cheat code and get an infinite supply?" All five feet, seven inches of her was staring down this armored mountain of a man and showing no signs of backing down one bit. The way she carried herself, one would have thought that she could take on both he and Travis without breaking a sweat. The scary part was that maybe she could. "You," she said, turning to Travis. "Stop protecting me. I'm not some delicate little flower. You should know that by now." As if to emphasize her point, she pointed her pistol to her right and let off a double tap, dropping a hostile who was coming down the corridor trying to creep up on them, never breaking eye contact with Travis for a second. She raised an eyebrow at him, cocky as could be. "Let's go," she said. "Maybe try a little subtlety this time." |
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| ~Alissa~ | Feb 28 2017, 02:43 PM Post #208 |
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Thea was fine….she was safe, her core was shielded and even the most basic interstellar ship had to be protected against sudden waves of radiation like that. But she was cut off, even temporarily. Blind as she was for the moment she could not see what was going on outside her own hull and right now she was certain that her operative needed her assistance more than ever. She silenced the alarms and started a systems restart, externally almost immediately this could be seen by a sudden snapping of shields into place as she took hold of what was going on. Still Thea was in a panic, Alissa was almost there before whatever that attack had been, her tools were on the ship, her armor was in its locker. Alissa for her part dove for cover the moment she perceived the attack. The glasses she wore which normally relayed data from her ships main computer and Thea went into a secondary mode only able to really provide data relayed from the weapons Alissa carried, which were in her hands as she came out of a roll. Sensing the spike in adrenaline, her internal systems shifted her into her enhanced state, the world around her seemed to slow down and the shimmers of adaptive cloaks became faint outlines instead. These were not enemies on which Alissa would need to hold back, she lifted the pistol in her left hand and fired three rapid shots, the pulse pistol released three spheres of blue white charged particles. She didn’t expect them all to hit but the purpose was to get this as yet unknown enemy to react, and the ion pulse pistol was useful for its tendency to disrupt shields and cloaks. She didn’t wait for the reaction though, instead charging where she saw the outline before launching into a graceful leap that would devour the distance, even without her armor Alissa was difficult to follow, speed built into her from the genetic level and augmented by artificial systems she always carried with her. She raised the tech blade she carried with her and brought it down in an arc meant to bisect the blur she had determined to be an enemy, three feet of nanites emitting an energy field made up the sword Alissa favored for up close encounters. And she would not allow this enemy to fight on their terms if she could help it. The white haired operative did not yell, or scream, or make any sign of passion as she rapidly closed the distance between herself and the first enemy, she knew there was another in the room, her speed she knew was her biggest asset. Her radio clicked on “I have been engaged by at least two enemies in the hangar using adaptive cloaking, be advised” |
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| ~Deadly Aim~ | May 9 2017, 10:21 PM Post #209 |
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Deadeye '17, eager to move on from the slow-motion train wreck that was last year.
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I forget that Grace isn't an ordinary woman... she's a dangerous one. Travis watched as the Dominion marine who had tried creeping up on them fell to the ground with a guffaw and a sharp hiss as Grace's pistol caught him in the face. The three were about to turn, however, when Travis noticed that the man was still moving. "He's still alive." Evidently, the visor of the marine's CMC-300 suit had compensated enough for the force of round that it had altered the projectile's course; grazing the man's face instead of outright hitting him. When the man tried to reach for his gauss rifle, Travis was upon him within moments, flipping the man over and pinning his armored body to the ground like a turtle under the boot of a bird half its size. Somehow, despite the considerable differences in mass between their two armors, Tychus noted that Travis was having no problems keeping the Dominion marine pinned to the grated floor of the ship. Travis worked quickly to undo the hydraulic lashes around the marine's helmet plating, though the other man was attempting to break the forceful foothold Travis had over him. "Stop struggling with me unless you want to see what color your brains are." Travis warned, forcefully shoving the man to the ground as he removed the helmet, ignoring the trickle of blood coming from the marine's lip. "You aren't like the criminals I usually hunt; you're an enemy combatant... and I'll treat you like one, if that's what you want. Grace, Tychus... go ahead of me;. I'll catch up. See the rank indication on his helmet...? This one's an officer. I'll have a chat with him, you two go on ahead for the Commander." "You sure about that, kid...?" Tychus rumbled, completely ignoring the fact that Grace had earlier lashed out at him; much like the feisty female beside him, not much seemed to phase Tychus Findlay. "You're gonna be all alone down here." "I'm sure," Travis replied. "Constantine can triangulate your shipboard position to me through your transponder, so I'll be able to find you two. Go ahead... I have questions for our friend here." ========== As Travis was left alone in the corridor with this captive, Tychus took a moment to reach around his waist... and handed Grace a flashbang grenade. "Figured I owed you one," Tychus explained. For the most part, as Tychus led the way as quietly as they could through the corridors, the two didn't exchange words. Tychus figured it best not to test Grace's temper, and he wasn't truly sure how much the two of them had in common. Tychus himself wasn't too sure why he was here. But here he was... and he knew, in his heart, why that was. And that was a reason Tychus was intent to keep to himself. "So... you and the comic boy know each other pretty well?" It was a slow and awkward attempt by Tychus to start a conversation. Hopefully Grace reciprocated. ========== Travis waited for both Grace and Tychus to walk away before rolling the marine over onto his back, keeping the barrel of his Fenris pointed right at the man's face. Travis could hear the marine's breathing increase as the man's eyes widened in fear. "You're a commissioned officer, so I would be surprised if you didn't have a basic knowledge of your mission focus." Travis began. "Why are you boarding us...? Talk." "Are you dense...?" The Marine replied, spitting a chunk of blood. "You're with Raynor's men. You're pirates. Rebels. Terrorists. Thieves. Scoundrels. You are the enemy of the glorious Terran Dominion." "Funny, from what I know of the Dominion, I'd say that's projection." Travis reached down, putting a grip around the man's throat. "Now tell me again: why are you boarding our vessel and attacking us, aside from the obvious...?" "Because... you... you have... something... his excellency... wants." The man was squinting, as though struggling with a great weight; although Travis had him physically restrained, he wasn't pressing down hard on the man. "Something... something that makes you nothing more than Raider scum! Die! Die...!" What is with this fruitcake...? Travis was utterly confused by the man's conduct; his vitals seemed fine, but his state of mind seemed... off. As though his words were not his own. As though he were reading from a script; but, for now, he played along. "Something he wants... what would that be...? Talk." "He... he... agent... Agent P4529-" POW! Travis hissed the urge to let out a profanity as he saw the man's head explode before him like a bloody grapefruit before he felt the impact of another round nearly send him stumbling forward, the shields being depleted by a heavy round discharge before he heard a set of sprinting footfalls approaching him from behind. That was when he felt something attempt to puncture the area on his armor around his neck, but it was stopped by the shielding and the material itself. "That's impossible," He heard a woman's voice gasp out of nothing. Cloaking devices...? More of those spooks like the guy I subued earlier! Travis turned around to grab the slender arm of the blade's owner, and slamming it with the full force of the Gabrielite Suit's output, ignoring the woman's scream as he sent her flying full-force into a steel bulkhead. The impact killed her instantly, Travis hearing her neck snap. Sighing heavily, Travis proceeded to follow the direction of Grace and Tychus as quick as his feet could carry him as heard three other sets of footfalls approaching, taking the time to hack the door shut behind him. He suspected it would only buy time against these special operatives, not stall them. He had to hurry and warn Grace and Tychus of the danger now loose within the corridors; armored marines weren't the only boarders the Dominion had brought to bare. ======= When Travis finally caught up to the two of them (Tychus was deceptively swift in that armor), Travis took a moment to catch his breath before moving to speak to them. "We need... we need to pick up the pace, get to Commander Raynor ASAP." Travis explained, catching his breath. "We're being followed. Grace, remember the sniper guy from earlier...? Just had a run-in with another special operations member decked out just like him." "Woah woah woah, slow down, kid," Tychus replied, his visor propping up to allow some cigar smoke to escape; evidently he had been smoking the entire time. "What's goin' on...?" "Some kind of woman decked out in a body-fitting armorsuit with goggles attacked me, tried to stab me in the neck," Travis explained. "Had a cloaking device on her. Looked like she was part of some kind of black operations unit." "Sweet mother of mercy... Ghosts." Tychus clenched his jaw, spitting out the last nub of his cigar and quenching it with an armored boot as his visor closed back up and he reloaded his vulcan cannon. "Comic b- I mean, Travis is right; we need to get to Jimmy-boy and warn him." "Hold on... what are ghosts?" Travis asked. "Like dead spirits, demons, specters that hide under your bed... except these are real. Cloaked, deadly special operative assassins that walk around with knives and high-powered rifles. Some of them even have the power to go pokin' inside your brain. ESP and all that, like those Protoss." "Wait... are you telling me these are humans with psychic powers...?" Travis asked; he remembered that encounter earlier with the man in the cantina with the dreadlocks staring at him, how Travis had felt like a worm was writhing inside his head, almost like he was being... inspected, searched. "That's exactly what I'm tellin' you, kid, and that's exactly why the three of us really need to get a move on. Now come on, we need to get Jimmy and link up with him. Anything you learned back there can wait." Travis stifled the old, trained reflex to say "yes, sir" from the force of Tychus' voice; it wouldn't have shocked him if at one point Tychus had also served in a commanding capacity. For now, they had to hurry; there was a team (or possibly even teams) of psychic ninjas with guns sweeping boarded sections of the Hyperion. They had to hurry to relative safely, and quickly. Edited by Deadly Aim, May 10 2017, 12:20 AM.
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| ~The Boss~ | May 11 2017, 09:01 PM Post #210 |
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Native Son
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"Travis despises me," Grace replied flatly, clearly still less than enamored with Tychus despite his efforts to make amends. Part of it wasn't even his fault. Perhaps her least favorite cliche was the big, sweaty, cigar-chomping ultra macho man. She'd gotten more than enough of that over the years from Nick Scanlan anyway. Of course, she was fully aware that she was something of a cliche herself; the dark-haired, husky-voiced, chaimsmoking femme fatale. She told herself that she made up for that by being a complete and utter dork underneath it all. "You know why?" she said. "Cause he's jealous. He's jealous cause I'm free. Free in a way he can never be, cause he doesn't want to be. Cause he's afraid." As she spoke, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye, behind Tychus and to his left. Nonchalantly as could be, she shot the approaching enemy right in the neck, once again maintaining eye contact with Tychus the whole time. "He fears the path I walk," she said without missing a beat. "Not that he thinks it's too dangerous, don't get me wrong. Travis Clark fears no man, no machine, no creature. No... what Travis fears is himself. He fears being as free as I am." It was a cryptic statement, to be sure, but Grace was often known to speak almost entirely on cryptic statements and non-sequiturs. Not to mention the irony of her speaking of freedom while still dressed in prison clothes. It wasn't likely that she saw any sort of contradiction there. So it went with this woman. "By the way," she said as she started down the corridor. "Pretty girls go to conventions too, you know. I for one never miss New York Con. I mean, I did this past year, but I was kinda indisposed. But other than that, I go every year. You should see my costume, too. super hot." She said it like a taunt, as if to tell Tychus that he would never, ever see her dressed in that costume. .............. So that's how it was gonna be. Black Ops types with psionic abilities. Living weapons unlike anything they'd ever seen. Bring it, bitches. "C'mon, Travis, we got this. We so got this." |
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2:55 PM Jul 11