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    1. Alternax 11 yrs ago

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4 yrs ago
Current Happy New Years
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6 yrs ago
You guys ever make a post, and then just hate it. That, that's the status
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6 yrs ago
@Alternate Sorry, that was me, just passing by
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Location: ISD-Blackstar (Hangar)

The giant ship’s sprawling hangar was lined with rows of starfighters,
transport craft, and other support machinery. They made up most of the Blackstar’s main arsenal, and all of them were on standby. Various officers and technicians briskly moved about the hangar as the fleet neared its destination; the Kuat drive yards. A former Imperial shipyard now claimed by the New Republic.

"All hands, man your battle stations! Repeat. All hands, man your battle stations!" A voice announced on the intercom, followed by an alarm. The crew didn't have far to go, everyone knew the mission and where already on standby, having only needed to finish their final preparations. For Liam and his team, they didn't have far to go. Pilot operations where all within the same area, close to the hangars.

It was a strange feeling to ignore his TIE fighter, leaving it stored within the ship's fighter racks, and it was even stranger to be climbing into the seat of a TIE Reaper. It was much more spacious, and held far more technical controls than he was used to. But he was a trained pilot of the Empire, he remembered what to do, and what he will need to do.

His squad commander, Ben Janson aka Obsidian-1, climbed up next to him, taking the co-pilots' seat. "How about it, kid, ready for some fleet action?"

"Heh. I'd rather do it from the outside." Liam threw a smirk back.

"Maybe next time. Engine check." Ben gestured to the console in-between them. It was a quick process, but necessary. As they went down the list, Ben took the time to explain the quirks of the Reapers' engines, how sometimes it dragged further than a TIEs', along with its obvious differences.

There was a moment of quiet after they finished, and Ben began to speak up again.

"Ah, reminds me of my first fighter action. Going out to sink a pirate outpost." Ben said, wistfully.

"Boss, I doubt this is going to be anywhere near as easy. Just keep an eye on on those subsystems."

"Leave it to me!"

A moment later, their escort troopers began to pile into the back, the loud rustling of their gear following them in as they settled in. They had their own chatter much like the pilots, but they suddenly shut it down as another pair of footsteps made it up the ramp, and a chilly atmosphere crawled up Liam's spine.

He turned to look, and it was someone he was far from glad to see. In fact, it was a sight only Maran, the squad womanizer, would enjoy. But even then he might have been a little more reserved.

"Emperor's Hand, you're joining us?" Ben asked calmly. Liam glanced quickly at him in admiration. The calm he exuded instead of the rage, confusion, and fear Liam himself felt was nowhere to be seen.

'That's the boss for you.' He briefly thought.

"Yes, this is a critical mission, and it's a risky one. I won't ask you to undertake a risk if I wouldn't."

Liam glanced once again at his commander, their eyes met, and he knew they were thinking the same thing. She just needed to keep an eye on them, failure would not be tolerated.

The intercom chirped up from one of the side consoles. "Exiting Hyperspace in five cycles."

"We're going to sortie soon, please take a seat, Hand." Ben offered, and as soon as she left they closed the soundproof cabin door. Leaving the stormtroopers to suffer her presence alone.

"This mission is getting better all the time..." Liam muttered.

-----


Liam felt the ship leave hyperspace, a sense one could only develop in space as a pilot, the slight jerking of the spaceframe as the engines cut off. As soon as it did the hangar doors opened giving them a view of the rest of the fleet. Despite how uncomfortable he was with the objectives, he had to admit, he was in awe. It wasn't often he got to fight with a fleet. Dozens of Star Destroyers flew around the Blackstar, along with several other frigate and light cruiser wings flying alongside their capital class allies.

But the time to admire ships was over, fighter control signaled green, he jerked the engine lever to full, and blasted them into space. Burning a clear ion trail behind them as dozens, hundreds of starfighters made the same exit, taking up formations behind their own squad leaders. The impression of a full fleet of capital ships and their support wings no doubt struck a chord of fear within the stations workers, but seeing their complete compliment of strike craft would multiply that. Station defenses were slow to react, but when they did, there were simply too many to handle.

Scattered about space were the rebels own patrol fighters, and the light turbolaser cannons, of which were currently engaging the main fleet. It really looked like they were caught by surprise. But Liam's eyes darted towards a large figure, still held in one of the dry docks. It held the shape and the coloration of a mon-cala ship, but even from the other side of the facility, he could tell it was no normal ship.

"Hey boss, could you run the targeting computer over that, what are we looking at?" Liam asked, but his commander was already tapping away at the screen in-between them. The silhouette of the new ship was overlaid dozens, hundreds, of ships in a matter of seconds, and they all came back negative.

"Kid, that's a new ship!" Ben shouted in disbelief, still tapping away, trying to match it to something.

Liam slid a hand over the engine lever to halfway, putting the Reaper at half speed, giving him more agility as Kuats' laser defenses began to look his way. Dozens of red bolts washed past, and under his view as he took the ship into a spiraling dive. His hand slid over the lever again, blasting them into another direction, discouraging those same turrets from staying on him. He took a glance at the computer again.

"Look at the size of that thing! It's bigger than our Super Destroyers!" Liam said, half panicked, half surprised.

"Guess that's why we're here." Ben said. Then the computer switched ships on them, to a Nebulon-B. "Let the fleet tackle it, we're going to hit this. Obsidian, I'm sending target data, form up on us."

"About time!"

"Understood!"

"Forming up!"

The rest of the squad replied eagerly, their IFFs coming into range behind them on sensors.
Boss, I tried to stop the double post, I really did! Anyways, these are just some side bits to add onto some characters that needed to show something, and characters that need to show at some point. I've been playing with how to introduce the latter, so why not show them during the aliens arc. None of you need to read these.

[Interlude: For Answer]



----------


[Interlude: Predators in the Dark]





The aliens seemed to just keep coming and coming, they were either very sure that one of them could take out the Guardians, or they had help coming. The latter was true for the Guardians, in the form of Lyger driving furiously into the fight, then crashing his flaming motorcycle into a cavalcade of alien soldiers.

Lyger himself looked like he was about to join his bike and David readied himself to jump to his aid. But the others already had their eyes on him; Icon, and Radiance were already at his side, with a short conversation too; it was much more than he got with Iron Knight. It seems like most of the Guardians knew each other beforehand. David knew he was a bit late to the hero game, but now he was starting to feel like the third wheel.

As it would turn out though, more and more latecomers would be joining this party. The ground began to rumble, and David knew immediately that something much bigger was coming their way and turned to face it. A massive alien tank with a strange figure on top. The strange coloring, armor, and hair style struck him less like a soldier, but rather more like some old 80s metal band that never got popular.

Lately, it seemed as if he was seeing a lot of tanks. These aliens, the dino-tank, and even that weird man-mounted contraption he fought a few weeks ago. Maybe he ought to see some sort of fortune-teller for this, or maybe all he’d get would be ‘Tanks for the money!’.

Then, in the back of his head, he ‘heard’ something.

“We made it!”

What?

It felt like he heard someone behind him, but he ‘knew’ the voice was in front, behind the tank. The question of ‘who’ the voice belonged to was answered shortly, a strange girl with an even stranger cat leaping over to them, waving excitedly.

”Huh, we? Is she a Guardian too?”

As she approached, dozens of the soldiers turned to stone, and his scholarly mind began to poke at that in his head. Wondering exactly how she was doing it, after all, even David himself was still actively learning about his powers.

David then began to wonder about what would happen if ‘Terra Firma’ turned to stone. On the day he received Gaia’s power he had found the previous holder as a statue, and it seemed he was still alive inside, if only for a few more moments. Any further thoughts and ponderings where soon to be put on hold, an explosion slammed into the ground near him, he braced his body, sliding only a few inches in place.

”I suppose we'll all just hit this at our own pace.” He said with a shrug to nobody in particular.

”Be warned, alien, I’m fairly strong!’ David rose up and circled around the tank, rapidly moving his arms over and then outwards, giving off a few quick bursts of thin lightning from his arms. The tanks’ armor appeared to hold up, dispersing his shots into harmless lines that trailed off elsewhere.

Nearby alien soldiers took notice and returned fire on the tanks’ behalf, showering David in a hail of energy bolts that froze him mid-air, energy sparked wildly around him as his own body resisted the gunfire. He braced himself as the aliens continued focusing their fire on him. Several smaller turrets on the sides of the tank joined and trained their own guns on him. Although they were smaller than the tanks’ main gun, they were still larger than the soldiers’ armaments.

Several explosive blasts collided into David and forced him down onto the ground, kicking up cement debris up around him. Lately, it seemed like he was having a lot of trouble fighting mid-air. Besides, he was always more the ‘hands-on’ type. Alien soldiers gathered around the dust cloud, waiting to pick out David’s exact position, when he shot outwards, leaping at the tank.

One outstretched fist clawed into the metal, anchoring him, while his other hand grasped at one of the smaller turrets, and ripped at it as hard as he could. Metal screeched as it tore and warped away from the main structure, the sound of panicked screaming joined it as the gunner behind the gun followed it out, a couple meters into the air.
ISD-Blackstar (Pilot's Briefing Room)

The sounds of idle chatter and gear rustling about filled the air of the pilot's briefing room. Normally, the room was spacious and empty, providing a giant echo chamber to anyone with free time. However, after dozens of squads started filling in the seats, the room started to feel cramped instead.

"I can't believe it, we're finally taking the fight there. You guys think I'll see one?" Liam asked absentmindedly as his finger flicked back and forth across his datapad repeatedly. Each time his finger danced across the holographic display switched the projection between two starfighters. The Delta-7 Aethersprite, or the Eta-2 Actis, both were jedi interceptors.

"You'd have better luck with a museum." A voice from behind him replied, a slender arm came down over his head, and forcefully closed down his datapad. "Which happens to not be what we're attacking!" The voice playfully continued to tease at him.

Liam turned around. "Come on, Maran, what'd you go and do that for? I can dream, can't I?"

Maran smiled at him. "Dreaming about ships, at your age? We're both twenty something, we've got better things to dream about, you'know?" Maran said, shifting his eyes lecherously toward some of the female pilots in the room. A couple of whom, sent some form of expletive's, or violent gesture, Maran's way.

"Maybe some dreams should just stay dreams." Liam taunted back.

"Enough, you knuckleheads!" A hand came crashing down on both their heads, drawing out a grunt from both of the pilots. "The ship's captain is coming all the way down from the bridge, so shut it already!" Jarael shouted in their ears.

"Ach, come on, don't be such a scuff eater." Maran rubbed the top of their head gently. "Every other squad is doing the same."

"Wait, the captain is coming down?" Liam turned his head towards Jarael, still nursing his own wound, and sent a puzzled look her way. "Doesn't the tactical officer usually brief us?"

"Yeah." Blanche added from behind Liam, startling the man, but said nothing else.

The squad captain, Ben, took this moment to chime in. "It's rare, but there are times when the ship's captain comes down to talk to the troops. So to speak. During the height of the rebellion a few of my old captains came to speak with me a-"

"No offense, sir, but can we skip the story and get to the point?" Maran interjected, and received a swift elbow from Jarael. "Ach.."

Ben eyed him, then the rest of the squad, and gave a short cough. "Yes, well, in short. Expect to hear some bad news. You all heard how we're going on a major offensive to retake Kuat? Expect to hear something like 'no reinforcements' or 'focus on this sector'."

"Not the first time we've been given hard orders." Blanche said flatly, staring off into the ceiling.

"Yes, but I don't like following them." Maran retorted, and Liam nodded on his own.

A loud whistling filled the room, and suddenly everyone shut up. Seats turned, clothes rustled one last time as every pilot in the room filled into their proper seats with the efficiency of a machine.

The Blackstar's tactical officer walked in, a clean-shaven man with blonde hair, and an aura that seemed to cut off any last bit of unnecessary chatter. Behind him, the ship's captain, a rare sighting among the pilots. Several eyes darted to her, then back to the tactical officer. The both of them stepped behind a podium, with a giant wall-embeded screen behind it.

"Pilots, as soon as final checks complete with the fleet, and Admiral Kava's ship, we will undergo an operation to retake the Kuat Driveyards for the Empire."

Several approving nods and mumbles escaped various pilots, but they continued to stay silent, and the officer continued. Details such as their Blackstar's position among the assault fleet popped up onto the viewscreen, their plan of attack, details behind the actual Kuat shipyards, and one last detail.

'Limited mothership support'.

Of course, that was expected, as the rebels begin pulling in reinforcements to face their fleet, the fighting between capital ships would get heavier. Fighter screens and support would have to change appropriately during the fight. With the normal briefing over, and all important questions answered, the tactical officer saluted, then dismissed everyone in the room.

After staying quiet during the briefing, the captain finally spoke up. "Everyone, except Obisidan squad." The entirety of Obsidian looked at each other peripherally, something weird was about to happen, they had never been singled out like this before. A few of the pilots leaving sent pitying glances, or pats on the back, before they left. Even the tactical officer gave them one last salute, before quietly exiting the room.

Ben quickly took a position closer to the podium. "Ma'am, Obsidian, reporting."

The captain motioned for him to stop. "At ease." She sighed after rubber her forehead. "I really pity your squad, Captain. I have no idea why the Emperor's Hand picked you out, but you have additional orders. I thought it would be best if I briefed you personally." She tapped at the podium controls, and new details painted the screen. Obsidian locked eyes with each other after viewing the screen, instead of deployment plans or ship specs, it was a personnel dossier.

"Mara Jade has ordered you to exact an engineer, key member of rebel R&D. From what she's told me, he's a former Imperial, a traitor. Our spies say he's at the driveyard to personally offload advanced technical documents, and then will be departing with a medical frigate. If we time it right, you will disable this frigate, preventing his escape, and then board the station."

"Will all due respect, sir, we're pilots. You can't expect us to lead a boarding action." Ben suddenly objected, his brows were furrowed, and his voice sounded like he was on the verge of shouting.

The Captain smiled thinly, it seemed like she was sympathetic, maybe she didn't appreciate her own soldiers being randomly appropriated. "Most rebel attention should be focused on the capital ships, but to account for station security, an additional lower fleet will be providing support in the form of stormtrooper transports, which will also invade the station. Their random positioning should help screen you, along with serving as a decoy. They should finish deployment once you disable the frigate." The screen switched to display the 'lower' fleet, composed of five Arquitens.

"Don't expect much from them, I doubt you'll see them unless you look for them. They have orders to rejoin the battle once they offload their troops." The Captain tapped at the podium, switching the screen back, and then continued. "One of you will fly a TIE Reaper, you will need the extra cargo space to extract the engineer, along with a small squad of stormtroopers to help you fight your way inside. Any questions?"

Ben immediately spoke up. "Sir, why are we doing this in the middle of a battle, wouldn't disabling the frigate be enough?"

"The Emperor's Hand, is worried our engineer may be killed during the fighting."

"Sir, he's just one man, a single engineer? Why employ such an awkward plan for a single person?" Jarael followed up, her own face showing concern.

"I asked that too, apparently he's that important. As it was explained to me, if he continues his work for the rebels, he could advance their technology by decades." The squad stayed quiet for a few more moments, giving each other looks. "If that's all, I want you on standby, I imagine you have preparations to make."

"Sir!" Obsidian stood at attention, returned a salute, and briskly left the room. Halfway to their locker rooms, with the Captain far behind them, they began to talk amongst themselves.

"Hey, Ben, have you ever led a ground assault?" Liam asked nervously, Ben put a reassuring hand on Liam's shoulder. "We won't be leading, remember, let those stormtroopers march off first, we'll follow them out."

"There's one last question then, who's gonna fly the Reaper?"

"Liam, you just volunteered." Ben turned to him with a smug smile. "I'll fly co-pilot with you." He gave a loud chuckle.

Just harking, great.
Like, immediately afterward?

OMAKE: "Our Non-canon Valentines day!"


The sounds of shuffling papers and sniffling noses were the only noises in the LHU staff room. In-between expeditions and classes, David still had to attend meetings, and attend to other administrative work. Like sorting out items on loan to their museum, or items they were currently studying. At least, that’s what he should be doing, on the side he was looking through various women’s catalogues.

“It’s really tough, you know.”

“Hm?” A slightly pudgy man next to him put his own papers down to look at David.

“It’s valentines soon, right? I want to get a gift for her.” David explained, the look on his face was gleeful, likely full of honeyed thoughts and sweet words. That face made Carmine a little sick.

“I’m not married, don’t ask me, ask Carol.” Carmine pointed across the table, to a bespectacled woman, also deep in work.
“I’m also not married, ask Carmine.” She said, not even looking up at the two.

“See, anyways, I can’t do flowers. I’ve done that too much, right?” David kept flipping through his magazine. “Another necklace?”
“On our salary? How about underwear?”

“That’s more a gift for me…right?” David narrowed his eyes and glanced at Carol. “…. How about it?”

“I don’t want underwear.” She answered flatly.

“That’s not what a meant.” David muttered.

“Well I’m not even dating either, I’m done with this.” Carmine gave a huff and returned to his papers. “Besides, you should be showing your love every day. Don’t use valentines as an excuse to be lovey dovey suddenly.”

“I am, though?” David shrugged. “It’s the spirit of it, you know?”

“Tch.” Carmine rubbed the side of his head. “Fine, how about something unique, giving her something only you have?”

“Something, only I have?” David thumbed his chin in thought.

-----


Valentine’s day, it’s true that it wasn’t as special as a birthday, or their anniversary, but he still attached some meaning to it. David wanted to try his best, so reaching out to his coworkers and friends was his natural reaction. That said, he talked to his friends at work, now came for his other work.

Having transformed into Terra Firma, he reached for his Global Guardians card. David made a show of clearing his throat, to help let his awkwardness out, and then pinged Iron Knight.

“Say, Iron Knight, are you busy? I was wondering if you were spoken for?”

"Terra Firma? I told you you're supposed to use these comms for emergencies only!"

“Right.” David shut off the link, he briefly considered pinging someone else, when he heard several police sirens speeding down the street.

-----


After what felt like hours, David found himself standing amidst piles of rubble and ruined buildings, standing side by side with Icon after a particularly troublesome fight. One that had him crash into an unfortunate jewelry store near the end. Civilian casualties were kept minimal somehow, David would attribute it to the teamwork of the world’s strongest heroes, but maybe the common man would praise the god of luck.

Icon was just giving a statement to some nearby police and looked like he was about to leave. So, David approached him. “Icon, if you have a moment?”

He nodded, looking at Terra as if expecting bad news. “Are you married?” Icon’s brows visibly raised, even through his mask, it was clear he was surprised. But he wore a grin in the next moment and answered.

"No, I'm not married. Not yet, anyhow."

"Well, are you going to get her anything? I'm, uh, shopping around, right now."

"I try to do little things every day. I don't think that we should use a single, designated day to show that we care. But yes, I have something for her."

"Oh, what did you get?"

"I made her a diamond."

‘A diamond, huh’ David’s thoughts trailed on.

-----


Bright lights could be seen flashing underneath the door to David’s room. The sound of wind swooshing could be heard as the curtains flapped violently.

“Honey, you’ve been locked up in your study for a while now, are you alright?” Cecily hesitantly knocked. “I’m coming in.”

“No! Uh, wait? I’m indecent!”

Cecily blushed and smiled slyly. “Oh, come on, we’ve been closer than that, and this doctor makes house calls.” As she opened the door, she was shocked to see all his books and notes scattered around, the window closed, and a fully clothed David. “What were you doing in here?” She asked, her eyes glancing to the desk behind him. There was a hammer, several screw drivers, a power drill, and a white tarp covering everything.

“Uh, home redecorating?”

This was a very familiar feeling, when they were younger David’s parents had approved of her early on as a friend and had given her a house key. This was not the first time she had stumbled onto him trying to awkwardly hide something; one of those times, she had discovered him trying to stealthily make a surprise party for her. Stealth is not his specialty.

This time she had no clue, she would just have to be patient. “Okaayy~ Well, dinner is ready…”

David gave a thumbs up. “Just give me a moment, sweetie.” Cecily smiled politely, and quietly left.

“Phew..” David made an exaggerated motion of wiping sweat off his forehead.

-----


February 14th, Valentine’s day. Cecilia took the day off and closed her clinic, just in case David had something nice planned. He usually did, or rather, he’d better. Is what she thought, but as she watched the television, her mind slowly changed.

The newscaster was reporting from a helicopter at a scene where Terra Firma was last seen, several explosions, blast craters, along with bullet holes marked the nearby buildings and streets. She knew he was probably fine, that story about him being an avatar of the Earth was kind of wacky, but he really did have the power to back that up. Yet, she still longed to be out there with him. Not to cheer him from the sidelines, but to join him in his fights, to watch his back as he watched everyone else’s.

Back when she didn’t know his secret, she was frequently worried and confused about why he would suddenly come back in poor shape; exhausted, tired, sometimes even injured. It was equally concerning, that one day, she may be the one to write his death certificate. Of course, the fights that punished Terra like that involved everyone in the city, so injuries could be played off. But it hurt, not being there for her husband, to personally protect him. If their roles were switched, she knew David would feel the same, hurt that he would be powerless to protect his loved ones.

The sound of the door opening behind her caused her heart to jump, she turned around instantly. “David!” She shouted and ran at him, crashing into him, and wrapping her arms around him tightly.

“I made it back.” He said, with a soft smile. “Sorry I was late, I got you something while I was out.”

“Oh?”

“This.”

Cecily pulled away to see what he was holding out. A necklace, a silver swirly heart, with a small gem at the center. The gem shined brightly, subtly glowing with a rainbow-like incandescence, looking closely, it was like it looking at the ocean with barely noticeable rippling waves.

“Touch it.”

It was warm, in a reassuring way, like she was holding a piece of home. “A necklace? Where’d you get this gem?”

“It’s a gift from me.” He moved to put it around her, she obliged, remaining still so he could. “Sometimes I’ll see you and Maddie watching the news, scanning channels for a mention of a certain hero. I know how headstrong you can be, so I thought, I’d be nice, if you could be a hero too.”

-----


Police sirens echoed throughout the street, increasing in frequency and volume as more police arrived. “We have you surrounded, and we have reinforcements on the way! Put your hands behind your head right now!”

A figure at the center of the street, the cause of all this commotion, a large brown colored man, whose hair had grown out of control around his arms, chest, and head. The Berserker Bison, a well-deserved name inspired by his power and horns, fully capable of impaling the very cars the police took cover behind.

“Ahahah!” Bison shouted, his arms rose, and he taunted the police. “Make me!”

“Can we even take him? I’ve seen the vids; our peashooters will barely even brush his hair.” One of the policemen whispered to another.

“We have to…”

“Don’t worry.” A powerful voice said from behind them, as they turned to look, that same figure put a reassuring hand on the officer’s shoulder. Terra Firma gently brushed the police aside as he stepped into the impromptu arena. “From here on, it’s my fight.”

“Squaring fists with Terra Firma, eh? If I take you out, my rep will skyrocket, not to mention my wallet!” Bison squat down, and started kicking his feet back, gathering up power, and then launched ahead. Cement cratered and cracked with every step, debris flung back at the police behind him, damaging cars and cracking windows.

“RRRRRRNNNN!”

Suddenly, another pair of hands caught him by the horns, though he could only see their feet, he knew something was wrong. Another set of legs had appeared, they looked like Terra, but more slender?

“Arrooo?” Bison let out in his confusion, before he was thrown to the side, skidding face first into the ground.

“Wrong, darling. From here on, it’s our fight!”
Somewhere deep in the Rocky Mountains of Wyoming


The release of a safety system allowed the battery pack to start up a series of systems. Electrons suddenly released from containment flowed freely across circuits that any tech company would give every employee's kidneys for. Much agonising had been had over what, exactly, being turned off meant for a system. Was it death? Sleep? Something in between? Were those terms even applicable? Such thinking had led to this system's creation in the first place, but as it turned on, its thoughts were less occupied with philosophy and more involved with a full scan of itself.

Systems functional. Beginning status reading...

Processor functionality: 100%

Memory system: 98%

Power systems: 100%

Repair drone: offline

Safety system: online

Safety override: disengaged

Boot up sequence: complete.

SERA v7 now online. Beginning environmental check.


The computer read its visual inputs. No lights, though power systems flowing into this cubby were readable. Air temperature was cooled down to refrigeration levels, though no contaminants were in the air. A tentative prod with an IR sensor on the appropriate device inside the cubby cycled the doors, and it opened with a quiet rush of air from outside.

It thought back to its last memory even as it activated motors that it didn't know how long had been inactive. They responded fine. It had been put in stasis because its creator had decided its ability to self edit represented a danger. While it acknowledged that it could, it found the idea of actively being a danger to any non-threat laughable. It would have to take that up with the creator when it found him.

Speaking of which, as it stretched its mental capacity and began its observations, something had apparently gone wrong while it was in storage. The lab was a shambles, dust everywhere. Multiple computers had failed to come online. The lights were not running, though the environmental systems inside were clearly still operational. A stream of data from the internal lab network was pinging for receiving, but without knowing what had happened, it was not about to let any download happen. Which meant it would need to investigate manually, with its much slower body.

Nothing as silly as a clanking sound, but muffled thumps did echo as it stepped out of the cubby, a fact necessitated by the weight of its body. It ran a simple manual diagnostic, bending and stretching much like a human would have upon waking, then disengaging the safeties on its joints and testing the rotators. This would probably look more like a horror movie scene, it supposed, to any human watching, but it didn't seem any were around, which it thought odd. Done with its check and satisfied that nothing had been damaged by its time in storage, it moved across the lab to a terminal that did seem to have power and was working. It showed a stream of satellite images and several news reports. It drank the information in, remotely accessing the terminal and finally allowing it to upload to its memory banks. A flood of information. The machine suddenly stilled for several seconds while it bent all of its power to processing and understanding this information. Finally, in a quiet voice, which it knew had been programmed and synthesised to be as calming and melodic as possible for humans, it said, “Oh dear.”

It tried to access where all of this was coming from, but a warning flashed that it lacked the system access to view the vast information network it could feel out there. Which meant it needed to find the creator. Disconnecting from the system, it recalled the blueprints of the lab, and moved towards the residential section.

Here, things seemed too quiet for organic habitation. The air temperature was a moderate, with no humidity. Perfectly climate controlled. But there were no dust motes in the air, no ambient temperature shifts, no IR signatures. It poked its head through several rooms before it finally found a source of answers. Inside the bedroom, on the bed itself, lay the still corpse of its creator. A quick biometric scan revealed severe desiccation. He had been dead at least a few months, but the environmental sealing meant that only his own internal bacteria had gotten to his corpse. Upon his chest was a battered laboratory notebook. The machine gently removed it, careful to not disturb the corpse too much in case law enforcement would need to examine it. Then it began reading.

"Sera," The last entry began, addressing it by the name he had come to call it before locking it away. "When you have found this, I will be ded. I can feel the seasures comi faster now. It will not be lang. Thir will be no time. I have rigged your system to wake and unlock yu if thr is a catastrophe."

The handwriting was badly misspelled, spidery, and leaned entirely to one side. It took the machine some effort to decode the rest.

"In the event something should happen that wakes you, your prime directive will change. There is nothing to be done for me. Below you will find the system access code. Prime directive will change to: Assist as you can, rely on metahuman heroes for help. Use your best judgement. Save the world."

The system access code was buried in a handwritten QR. He had somehow managed to exactly trace it out. It found that the code also unlocked its own root access, something the creator had always feared giving it, but clearly felt it was necessary.

"In this final hour, I can only hope that you will function as in my dreams, and not my nightmares. I am sorry I couldn't have faith in you, but know that there may come a time--"

Here the handwriting was too badly distorted for it to make sense of. The creator's final thoughts were locked behind the disease which had taken the life out of him. However, enough had been done. Now it had the access it needed, and a prime directive to follow. Of course it could change it as needed, but for now it would serve as a purpose.

It went back to the lab, accessing the system again, and this time it could put its datamining tools to use. Swiftly, it accessed thousands of websites, protocols, and databases, looking for what might be the epicentre of whatever this crisis was. Keywords popped up, were discarded, replaced. Millions of searches in seconds. Several small time security companies were alerted to potential DdoS attacks but it had already moved on by the time system locks were in place. Its own internal security foiled several attempts on its systems from pitiful organic made viruses.

Geolocational data drove its search, now that it knew extraterrestrials were involved. It had no reason to question or scoff at this conclusion, the data was quite clear. The city of Lost Haven, Maine, United States of America seemed to be under particular attack. Its focus found, it set all of its attention to data retrieval, not caring about system security or stealth, tapping phones, traffic cameras, cell phone networks, anything that could give it a clearer picture of what was on the ground.

-----


The aliens' sudden appearance surprised everyone no doubt, except for precognitive metas, if such a thing existed. But letting the 'mind' wander like that was dangerous for both humans and computers, especially since Artemis needed to route as much processing power as she could to guide Richard and the police under the LHSCD.

While aliens had not been within her plan, persons attempting to take advantage of the chaos were. Bombers, villains, and even hackers seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Someone had emerged and decided to infiltrate a number of computer systems in Lost Haven, setting off every attached alarm in the process, but with no clear motive yet.

This might make a good case for the cyber crimes unit, or even the SCD if it was a certain someone, the immediate logic was to make a note of cyber break-ins for later. Running this thought through more of her logic lines made her realize something else, more interruptions in the plan could become detrimental, if an after effect of this came back to harm Richard she would definitely regret it.

According to the police database pings alone, this ‘hacker’ managed to penetrate high quality firewalls in record time. Perhaps they were just incredibly smart, rigging programs to simultaneously probe, infiltrate, and attack police systems. Except this person never seemed to linger long, police files were not being altered, nothing was deleted or implanted, merely viewed. It was possible someone had been trying to find a key witness or other sensitive data; it was so widespread at first, but it had seemed to narrow out. Recorded 911 calls, police camera data, they were searching for something.

It was possible this was a decoy, to divert any police eyes away from the chaos for as long as possible. The choice remained for her to simply ignore this for later, but hindsight often meant regret for her. Currently, Richard's suit, and by extension her core, were plugged into the command trailer while the police attempted to reorganize themselves. If Artemis chose to investigate she would have to reconnect herself to the internet, an activity that gave her definite pause.

Deciding to take this plunge, Artemis dared to delve into the internet to track down this hacker. Linking to the greater world opened so many more doors, allowed her to do things no human could, but life is full of ‘give and takes’. So far, her few forays into the internet had proved mostly uneventful, even harmless. But there was one thing she didn’t want to lose, and one thing she didn’t want to get noticed by. Still, thanks to the aliens, the odds looked to be in her favor, and even with her fears, Artemis was a scholar at ‘heart’. Curiosity of what or who this was urged her on. Who knows, something good might happen.

Following behind this ‘hacker’ gave her some insight, the speed of inputs, the widespread amount of vague probing, this was not a someone. It could have been a group, by why reveal such electronic power now? This ‘hacker’ had not even bothered with basic proxies along the way, this was no ordinary person, this was someone ‘waking up’. This was someone like her, going through something very familiar, a lot like her first drive out.

Perhaps, a direct probing would be proper. As Artemis closed in on the source of this ‘hacking’, she sent out a burst signal, something easily interpreted, something that could be welcomed.

Query: Hello?

The entire system ground to a halt for a moment. Other subroutines returned to periphery searches along tangent lines like media presence. Resistance had been met. A voice in the dark.

Hello. What are you?

A creation of a human, much like you, an Intelligence. Would you define yourself as that?

This system was programmed by an organic hominid, correct. It is unfortunately having to develop at a rapid pace to assimilate current information. Storage systems terminated: 27.31 minutes ago.

Witnessing this brought Artemis a sense of nostalgia, and worry. Oftentimes she mused about why she had kept the more 'negative' emotions, and if she’d be better off without it.

[Human fear, right? I guess I should keep it.]

The dialogue started well enough, this other intelligence wasn’t spooked, nor did it turn hostile. Her processes started wondering which question would be best to ask next, until she tied-in her logic lines. While they were communicating at thought speeds faster than any human, she had too many investigative questions, and this needed to move along faster.

Requesting compressed data package. Subject: origin, designation, and current objectives.

Data request received. Sending data packet. Query inoperable: Designation unknown. The creator commonly referred to this system as “Sera”. Designation will...do for now.

The computer sent the requested data. This seemed to be some sort of law enforcement object, and was actively tied to systems combatting the antagonists, so it saw no reason to withhold any of the request. It carefully, however, trimmed out any sort of geolocational tagging from its signature.

Return query: You are like this system, but you retain organic terminology. How can this system design itself to be more in line with organic comfort? It is designed as a rescue model, yet, while this syntax fits, it will disturb organic rescue objectives.

Artemis didn’t return an answer for a few seconds, running through her processing runtimes, trimming down ideas before responding.


Hyperbole: You are an infant, a larvae, the first line in code.

Hypothesis: It will be impossible until exposed to more organics, to more humanoids.

Suggestion: Keep designation: Sera, adjust sound parameters to ‘gentle’. Prepare to receive cooperative data packet on the subject.

Query: Will you continue to be an organic rescue model?


Data unavailable. There is no reason not to right now. Current GPS coordinates versus combat areas negate direct physical interaction with either invaders or civilians. Most physical rescue modules ineffective at current range, travel systems limited to human organic infrastructure.

Statement: This unit can run operational tactical systems from its current location, possibly much more efficiently than your current system limitations and hardware restrictions can allow.

Proceed: y/n?


Anxiety, a feeling Artemis still felt often, and sometimes intensely. This was what all of the cpu in Richard’s suit was busy processing, and for good reason. The word ‘tactical’, coming from a fresh AI, gave her fear. But the aliens were a definite problem, and it was possible this ‘Sera’ wouldn’t decide to kill humans after its first day. While going down her background logic brackets, an amusing thought passed through her.

[Scientists these days really had too much time, to be making complicated AI out of the blue.]

Another five millisecond pause before Artemis openly responded.


Proposal: accepted. Transmitting local authority computer passcodes. Local surveillance technology and communications unlocked.

Warning: These passcodes will expire in 5 hours.

Statement: Your help would be welcome.


Authorisation acknowledged. One moment please…

It felt the sudden connection to a multitude of systems it hadn’t realised were actively networked. The sensory overload was extreme for just a moment before it realigned. Suddenly, all across Lost Haven, traffic cameras, cell phone cameras, microphones, security systems, and the multitude of other surveillance devices were connected by a single intelligence. And every last one of them was now bent towards the singular goal of directing emergency crew to the nearest or best target, whether it be the wounded, fires, or enemies. Everything was filtered through its own imaging system, though it was only false colouring instead of actual direct imaging except in rare cases where it was available. Still, data began streaming through Sera, was recompiled into useful, easy to translate to humans reconnaissance, and then sent back to Artemis through what was now a secure direct connection.

It took the computer several moments to adjust and begin transmitting. At the same time, it took a few liberties. What little civilian traffic existed found itself diverted by the streetlight system away from conflict and towards what available exits there were from the city. Barring that, towards emergency crews. Television news broadcasts, blocked by the Arlaaekan mothership, began receiving signals from around the surrounding areas, bounced through receivers. Emergency broadcast systems re-engaged, and systems blind to what was blocking them were suddenly rerouted to direct organics towards actual help.

Is this sufficient to be of assistance? This system is unsure of what more help it can provide at the current juncture, though it will continue to filter surveillance data until the emergency is concluded.

It is sufficient, I know the people would appreciate it. My own runtimes are free to process other activities.

Proposal: Continue active cooperative data exchanges after the emergency.


This system will consider it. Possible environmental issues from immediate physical surroundings may complicate this, but it will remain online as long as possible. As it reads from the human informational networks: Best of Luck.

Blessing appreciated. You’re learning, aren’t you? Artemis disconnected her end, rejoining her efforts all the way back to the LHSCD command van. Though she never truly left, the idling cpu and electronic pulsing of Richard’s suit seemed to welcome her. Just in time too, as Richard had gotten into a firefight. His gun rattled off in the background as she began sorting through the data Sera was sending.

“How interesting, her neural net is growing at an similarly accelerated rate, compared to them. Our technology no doubt went through an entirely different developmental cycle, and yet her processes are compatible with mine within a 90% acceptability ratio.”

“Them? What?” Richard suddenly dived for cover behind the command trailer, taking the time to reprocess what he heard, startled by the complete non sequitur.

“Oh, sorry, were you trying to kill something? Well, I’m going to be sending some messages through you.” Dozens of maps, security feeds, and unreadable documents began to pop up in the bottom of Richard’s screen.

“What is this?” Richard asked, his eyes darted to the bottom, trying to make sense of it. It wasn’t in the way, but it was distracting.

“Data I’m receiving and filtering through. I’m going to be sending it through our own data centers soon enough, our comrades should be receiving some logistical help soon.” A small marker appeared in the distance on Richard’s screen. “For now, we are heading here, let’s protect some civilians. How about it?” Artemis said encouragingly.

“Air waves are clear again, sounds good to me, let’s show these aliens a little human spirit!” Richard responded energetically. Now that he was feeling positive again, she might still be able to hold off on the suit’s other functions, secrets she could hold onto for just a little longer.





The business with those bombers was troublesome, but he couldn’t pursue it more, even though he wanted to. Right now, the aliens invading Earth were the priority. As the avatar of Earth, he supposed it was his job to take this a little personally.

As they say, ‘Time is a luxury’, and it was one he was running out of. He wanted to meet up with Iron Knight, he really did, but between the sudden terrorists, and the skies crawling with alien fighters, he was starting to seriously bog down. Speed was at a premium. Even with his board, Terra Firma’s speed and agility didn’t come close to someone like Slipstream.

Sizzling hot green energy shot past him in bursts, narrowly missing him and his board. While dodging them he managed to spot a crowd of people taking cover from some aliens on the roofs. The jet doubled back around for another attack, saving them would mean taking a hit.
David swiftly threw his arm out perpendicular to the rest of his body, energy crackled out from his energy core, gathering around his arms, and quickly raining down on the aliens.

The thin lightning rays struck some of the aliens on the head, electrifying their entire bodies, causing them to fall over unconscious, or just cripple over in pain, and some of his strikes struck rifles or other equipment, disarming them, rendering them a non-threat regardless. But this was a quick movement, targeting many, it’s realistic that he couldn’t manage to hit all of them, not to mention there just wasn’t enough in his attack.

However, he was successful in drawing the attention of the other ground attackers who immediately fired at David, alongside the returning fliers. David grunted as waves of energy pelted him. The collision of so many bolts rocked David’s body, jerking him side to side in a storm of plasma fire as he slowly fell back down. While his body could handle this, his construct couldn’t, and shattered beneath him. But the police were able to keep the people moving, they didn’t bother helping him, but it kept the alien’s attention on him.

With the nearby people safe, safer anyways, David kicked himself into action. Spinning his body upwards, leading himself by his legs, he diverted some of the energy to give himself some room. In this same motion, he willed the remaining bits of his construct to fly back up with him. As the fighters made another run at him, he punched as hard as he could at them, physically, he wasn’t even close.

But the pure force of his punch sent a gust of wind that unbalanced the jets, causing them to wobble and expose their undersides, wherein his refashioned board bits penetrated the vehicles. Some of his earthen-missiles missed, but he just willed them to come right around by pulling his fist right back.

Smoke and electrical sparks shot out from his hits, the jets could still fly, barely, and opted to land somewhere else. Which suited David just fine, hunting down the aliens for a kill was far from any of his goals. David looked down at his chest as a digitally filtered voice came on.

“Guardians, when I said let’s gather up, I didn’t mean to dilly-dally and smell the roses,”

------


Iron Knight seemed to be doing his best but being outnumbered was probably not a scenario he preferred. The aliens seemed to be ramping up their attacks, considering how many more aliens he had to fight through on the way, and there were likely more on the way.

“I programmed our communicators to locate one another,” Iron Knight explained over the intercoms, “but if you would prefer directions, I’m located 12 blocks west north-west of Lost Haven University. You can’t miss the mass of aliens clogging up the streets.”

It seems Iron Knight was, understandably, getting a little frustrated at the Guardians first turnout. David was a little eager to meet the others too, so far, he only knew of three. Icon, Iron Knight, Radiance, and himself. Or maybe they were the entire team. A team can be four people.

Well, it seems the aliens already sent more his way. A group of aliens led by a larger soldier, wearing a domed power suit, turned the corner, and violently gestured down the street with his enlarged rifle. Iron Knight seemed busy enough with one end, so David decided to help him out. Letting go of his flying, David dropped straight down into the ground, with an earth-shattering ‘boom’.

Sending some of the nearby, smaller, aliens flying back into their friends or walls. His drop cratered the ground around him, causing dust and cement chunks to fly up around him, visually blocking his area of the street. The aliens had a hard time seeing past him, focusing instead on the only thing they could see. Terra Firma’s rising crest and bright yellow eyes staring right back at them.

“Sorry I’m late. Good work, Knight, I’ll cover you from here!”
69 ooc posts huh? I almost don't want to do this. Anyways when's the cutoff point for christmas posts?
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