[color=00aeef][b]The Institute, Residential Sector 8B Corridor[/b][/color]

Thomas stood transfixed as the Synth stood back up, even after the Director’s Authorization override had been used. That, however, was far from the most terrifying part. The true source of his horror was the fact that, in her hand, she now held the single vital component that was her very being. The equivalent of a living human having just torn out their brain with their own hands: that was what he faced. The utter impossibility of it shook him to his very core. The component clattered to the ground at his feet, but he didn’t even give it a second glance.

"I AM THE HEIRESS OF THE PROPHET!" The Synth shouted, the meaning of the words was lost to him, but he was far from concerned about that right now. 

“Orders Director?” X6 asked expectantly, but he was unable to respond. 

It was then that one of his Coursers simply….snapped. With its neck, mangled and utterly broken, the Courser fell to the ground almost immediately.  Thomas took a step back, had the Synth done that somehow? No...that wasn’t possible. 

Half-hearted attempts at explanations entered his mind, but he hardly even had time to truly contemplate the occurrence before the Synth began rushing forward. 

"YOU ALL SHOULD NOT BE!" She shouted.

Thomas made no move to stop her as she charged the Coursers. Part of him, he was ashamed to admit, wanted to see what would happen next. He was desperate for a logical explanation...something...anything...that might allow this all to make sense that observing her was the only thing he could think to do. 

However, instead of continuing to attack the Coursers, she instead honed in on a new, softer, target. She rushed Cait, and grabbed her, lifting her up with an ease that would have been difficult to achieve even for a Synth. It was then that Thomas came to his senses, he hurled a power armored fist at her torso. It was neither a skillful nor practiced blow, merely a very human reaction to someone he loved threatened. 

A3’s body splintered under the force of it, and she was forced to drop her prey. Whatever this thing was...it was mortal at least. With Cait clear of her grasp, Thomas gave the order,

“Kill it!”

The Coursers opened fire, a dozen laser shots tore into her arms and legs, searing synthetic flesh and ripping what was left of A3-18 to shreds. 


[color=00aeef][b]One Hour Later - Emergency Meeting of The Directorate, Directorate Boardroom
[/b][/color]

The Directorate had been gathered, each member of The Institute's five divisions seated about the white oval table inside the Boardroom on the top level. At the center of the table on a metal surgical tray was the Synth Component, the one that A3-18 had torn from her head and ‘tossed’ to Thomas. Each of the respective Division Heads, shifted uneasily in their seat. Thomas sat with his elbows on the table, his hands folded in front of his face as his bespectacled eyes were fixed on the component. The uneasy silence was palpable. 

Finally someone spoke. It was Dr. Holdren, head of Bioscience,

“Sabotage? Perhaps someone illegally modified the Synth somehow. ” He offered a half-hearted suggestion, it was more to clear the air than anything, “Perhaps Dr. Wagner himself, given that he was a member of Robotics.”

“She tore it from her head, Clayton,” Thomas replied flatly, his eyes didn’t leave the component. There’s no amount of modification that can allow a Synth to do that and still be functional. Initially I had thought we were facing a malfunctioning unit, perhaps even one that had been injected with malicious code to bypass the security safeguards, but this….this is something different.”

“Surely there must be some possible explanation? Can you give an opinion at least, as head of Robotics?”

Thomas was silent for a few moments, before he sighed,

“The only thing I can think of is that someone figured out a way to insert a bootstrap loader into the Synth’s component, an embedded piece of code hidden in memory that we were unable to detect during normal security scans, and which initialized a remote connection to some external process that took over operation of the Synth. When the component was removed, theoretically the Synth may have been functioning off those basic received commands. But that type of technology to allow for direct interface with the Synth’s neuromuscular system without the component is theoretical only. We’re decades away from even prototyping such a thing.”

“That’s a terrifying thought in and of itself...” Clayton replied uneasily. 

“On that note, I’m more concerned about the weapon that she used to destroy one of the Coursers,” Dr. Li interjected, “The footage from the security feed seems to indicate that she used some sort of, well for lack of a better term, telekinesis. There’s a number of ways such a feat could be explained scientifically with the right parameters in place, but all of them would require a level of technology surpassing our own.”

Dr. Secord nodded in agreement, “So if this is sabotage, we’re dealing with a group far more advanced than we assumed the surface dwellers were capable of,” She turned to Thomas, an expectant look in her eyes, “So then what do we do?”

There was a brief pause as the room fell silence, each of them looking to Thomas as The Director to make the decision. He unfolded his hands and looked up,

“We deal with the immediate security issue first. Whatever this is….whoever we are facing...we have to assume they have the ability to compromise our Gen-3 Synth network. Any non-essential Gen-3 units will decommissioned for the time being and placed into secure storage. Essential workers will be strictly monitored at all times and only be allowed in designated areas.  Gen-2 and Gen-1 units will fill any gaps created in the workforce. We’ll also increase security sweeps throughout The Institute.”

“And the Coursers?” Alana asked. 

“If the Gen-3 units can be compromised….we can’t take any chances. I’ll order X6-88 to assume command of the Courser units stationed in The Institute and they’ll be garrisoned temporarily on the surface. A base camp inside the CIT Ruins should do fine.”

“It’s an extreme measure, but I can’t say I disagree,” Dr. Filmore stated, “I’d also recommend we run security scans on the old generation synths, just to be safe. Perhaps install a few more security cameras in the corridors for better monitoring.”

Thomas nodded, “See that it gets done Allie. Next….we need to address what A3-18 said. It’s quite obviously a clue to deciphering the identity of our attackers. Alana, I believe you have something to report in that regard.”

“Indeed,” Alana replied and she pulled out a few manilla folders and laid them on the table in front of her, “A3-18 made mention of an [i]‘Heiress of The Prophet' [/i]when it began to...malfunction. Based on the information our Synth units we able to gather from the Vegas affair, we believe we’ve identified who this is referring to. A one Marie Ashur, currently associated with the group known as ‘The Cult of Ug-Qualtoth.’ We have a number of images captured of her and the other leaders of the Cult that attended the conference including their ‘War-Leader’, a vile looking brute called ‘Dosh-Novan’. We had previously built profiles on all of the attendees to the conference that we could successfully identify, so I can provide her file to you Director if that is acceptable.”

“Please do.”

“So this Cult of Ug-K-ua-ltoth….Ug-Qu-alt…..Uggy…...nevermind. This “Cult”, “A confused look crossed Clayton Holdren’s face, “Your suggestion is that they had something to do with this Alana?”

“Perhaps. Or at the very least, someone wishes us to believe they did. Either way, I suggest we accelerate our plans to investigate them.”

“Agreed,” Thomas said, “To that end. I’ll inform Desmond that he’s to begin his journey to Pittsburgh immediately. Likewise, we’ll begin following up any leads to The Cult that we’ve previously identified. Including those in the Maryland and DC regions.”

“Sir if I may,” Alana shuffled the files in front of her about before pulling out a single sheet, “SRB has discovered a pre-war connection to the cult as well based on the information provided to us by Mr. Lockheart during his stay in Point Lookout. Are you familiar with Dunwich Borers LLC?”

“The mining company?” Thomas asked, a bit surprised, “Vaguely yes. I seem to recall them having a quarry not far from the Salem area. They sold industrial drill bits too I believe. Other than that, I’m confused what connection they could possibly have with this?”

“They’re linked to the cult somehow through the owner, Richard Dunwich. We’re still investigating, but we did a database crawl on some of the pre-war CIT records, and there were a number of references to the company before the war being accused of ‘occultic activities’ in several news outlets. The scandal was not very widespread apparently and was quickly forgotten, but I believe it might be worth further inquiry.”

“The Dunwich Quarry is still there I believe then yes? I’ll task X6 and a few Coursers to comb the quarry and see if there’s any records on the company remaining there. Good work Alana, it's at least something we can follow up on. In the meantime,” Thomas continued, turning to the others, “We’ll consider this an isolated security incident and assure our people that its being dealt with. Let me be clear on something as well, I don’t believe in dark gods or evil powers, magic, or the like. I believe as I’m sure each of your do that there must be rational explanation behind what happened in that corridor. If something can be observed….it can be studied scientifically. Let's find that explanation and learn all we can about it. I’ll ask you all to link your divisions...your resources, work together on this and come to me should you require anything.”

A murmur of agreement came from the Directorate, and after a few thank yous and final words, The Directorate dispersed and left the room, leaving Thomas to his own thoughts. After some time he stepped out of the board room and returned to his own quarters. He had one final matter he wanted to attend to. 

He accessed his private terminal, and the read the message he’d received only hours before the incident had occurred. His old colleague had come calling.

[i]ROUND TWO?_ROBERT HOUSE_LUCKY 38 HOTEL & CASINO RESORT_[/i]

“I could use some of that cold rationality of yours right about now Robert….,” Thomas muttered and he clicked a button on the keyboard. The data transfer began immediately, but would take some time to complete as it had to bounce through a number of different pre-war satellites before it would finally reach House. The schematics he sent he knew House would be able to understand, perhaps not enough to fully comprehend its workings, but then again he wouldn’t need to. All he needed to do...was build it.