Sep — Roleplayer Guild

\\\\\\\\ TWO MONTHS AGO ////////

The intel was solid—a small makeshift camp deep within the Yellowstone National Park. Satellite imagery was good; it showed an exposed centre around their makeshift structures. A large campfire surrounded by a variety of tents, and a couple of small wooden structures on the outskirts, no doubt, acted as rudimentary guard towers. Switching to thermal vision, he could see about half a dozen people in one tent in the middle of the site, and another half a dozen were spread out. With a further three in the guard posts. There was a cold spot, which was likely the refrigeration for the mess. Pulling back on the lens, he could see the SFs holding position on the outskirts of the camp.

Shock and awe tactics. Jim was leading the charge, and hopefully, the sight of the suit would convince them to come quietly. It never went down that way, but one could hope. Leaning forward, he sent himself carreering towards the ground, pulling back at the last second, he fired his boosters, slowing his descent, creating a large 'woomf' in the middle of the camp as air followed him down. The gears and servos whirred as he stood up straight, raising his arms, a small hatch open,d revealing the barrel of a gun. His back-mounted launchers turned to face those behind him. 

"Nobody move."

His voice amplified, everyone was already standing frozen, looking at him. Clad in red, white and blue, the cold, unfeeling face. He wasn't moving at all. The suit kept him deathly still, yet thanks to the variety of sensors, he knew everything that was going on in the area. The guards were slowly walking towards him, weapons raised. His HUD went from calm yellow to an angry orange. The armour systems auto-targetting the 'perceived' threats. 

"What is the meaning of this?" A woman came storming out of the tent he assumed was a mess. She spoke with a soft Scottish accent. A long trailing coat, tactical vest and trousers. Jim's scanner picked up the handgun at her hip, her dossier appeared on the right of his HUD. Moira MacTaggert, former MI6 agent. The moment she saw him, he saw her tense up and reassess the situation. While everyone knew the exploits of the War Machines during the war against the Reach, anyone within government circles would be acutely aware of just how much they achieved and what their capabilities were, and this wasn't a War Machine suit. It was the Iron Patriot, new and improved.

He used his tongue to flick on the microphone ono communicate externally. "You're all going to have to come with me-"

Moira crossed her arms. "And just why is that, Colonel Rhodes?" He could practically hear the venom in her voice.  

"You're all suspected to be in breach of EO-141448. Under Presidential Authority, I'm bringing you in for questioning and testing." He twitched his thumb slightly, a small status light on his HUD flicked green, and the green lights on his tracker started to tighten in on the camp. The soldiers are closing in.

"You can't do that." Jim's suit suppressed his sigh, not in the face of her defiance. In the face of his own.

"I can, and will, fulfil my orders-" Before he could finish his next thought, a large shard of ice came flying out of the tent. Tearing a hole in the fabric, colliding with his suit and sending him tumbling. The status on his HUD turned red, highlighting the impacted area. Using his hand repulsors, he boosted himself back onto his feet, entering a fighting stance. His weapons immediately retracted as he looked into the face of the young man - no. He was more a boy, a boy, and he had just managed to knock the most advanced suit of armour onto the ground. Jim could see the rage on the boy's face as the ice began to crack and spread, covering his whole body. He cursed himself, the cold spot hadn't been refrigeration, it had been a single mutant. Who knew how many more there were in that ten?. 

"Bobby, no!" Moira shouted, but it was too late as the boy charged at him. With a flick of his fingers, his lethal weapons retracted to their holding position., Reaching behind him, he pulled a stun baton out of the suit. Swinging for 'Bobby' as the two neared contact. The boy dodged under it harmlessly, alarms blaring in the helmet as Jim's back was pelted with shards of ice, twisting on one foot, he brought the baton down. Narrowly missing the young mutant. By this point, chaos had erupted. He could hear the ZAT-Rounds popping off. Weapons specially designed by Tony as a non-lethal takedown. A single shot stunned a normal human on the first strike. The bodies were falling as the special forces pushed onwards. 

This 'Bobby' kicked at Jim's knee; he could practically feel the cold through the suit. The temperature in the area was rapidly dropping. People were running, falling, and fleeing. Some had just fallen on the ground, sobbing. Swinging the baton as the boy stood up, he went flying as electricity arced throughout his body. Falling to the ground with a soft 'thump'. Looking up after affixing the cuffs to the boy's wrists, he looked up to see a soldier with his helmet off. Blood spilling from his temple, he raised his gun towards a figure lying on the ground.

Flicking over to the team comms, Jim identified the soldier. "Taggert, what are you doing?" Jack Taggert ignored him, pulling the trigger. The body before him convulsed as it was hit again and again, turning into as best a sprint he could manage in the suit. Jim raised his right arm, a repulsor shot lanced out and knocked the gun out of Jack's hands. Pushing him away, Jim turned to see the convulsing form of a child. Lightning arced and raced over his body, as it slowly turned to ash.

"This isn't going to go down well, Tony." Jim slid the tablet back across the table to arguably one of the most famous tech billionaires on the face of the planet. Certainly one of the most famous and liked. Even though the Stark family for three generations had made its money from the spilling of blood, when that blood was spent at the protection of Truth, Justice and the American way, there could be little argument on whether or not it was worth the cost. Tony had argued publicly that while Superman had been pivotal in changing the tide of the war, he believed that the War Machine project, now known as the Iron Patriot Program, would have had the same results. Each iteration of the armour, he said, improved upon the last. 

"I don't have a choice Rhodey, we can't keep going on like this."

"Just think about what it's going to do to the company Tony-" Tony slammed his fist on the table, causing his drink to jump and fall over. The golden-yellow spread lazily across the table. Tony groaned as he stood up in a quest to find a towel.

"It's not about the company, it's about the world." Jim, who had walked in the opposite direction of the workshop, picked up some paper towels, whistled and then tossed them over to Tony. "You know full well why I even started this project-"

"Yeah, Fury practically begged you too." Tony raised an eyebrow, and let loose a small chuckle.

"True, that was almost better than the paycheque." He continued to mop up the spilt drink, handing some of the paper towels to Jim as he got closer. "I honestly thought it could help make the world a better place." Tony sighed, and Jim took the time to look at him. Even after he had found him falling out of the sky in that first-ever suit, he hadn't seemed as tired as he did now. The bags under his eyes were deep and heavy, the unmistakable stench of guilt in the air. He had seen Tony broken many times before, but never as badly as this. 

"They did-they do." Jim looked over to the Iron Patriot suit stood in the middle of the workshop. Several panels and weapons had been removed, exposing its guts. In a world of aliens and monsters, people who could throw cars like they were pennies. The Patriot program was really their only hope, and trying to maintain some sense of order. 

Tony chuckled as he picked up his glass and walked over to the fridge. The glass clinked slightly as he placed it upon the counter, pouring out of a carton of apple juice before returning it to the fridge and taking a sip. "Not according to the current President. He's pushing for more-" He nodded towards the tablet. "-He's wanting me to consult on Trasks super secret project. I told him where he can shove that. Bad enough they're making his anti-mutant software a requirement in the Patriot armour."

Jim wiped the liquid off the back of the tablet as he picked it up, flicking through the screens to technical specs that he probably shouldn't have been privy to. Granted, it was entirely possible that even Tony wasn't supposed to have them, but that had never stopped him before. "I've got a feeling Trask has been snooping in on the Patriots' systems, but I can't prove anything yet." Tony sighed as he came and sat back down at the table. He sighed. "Rhodey. I'm discontinuing the Patriot."

Having taken his sip of juice in solidarity with his brother, Jim choked slightly when he attempted a gasp. "You realise that the President isn't going to like that very much?"

"What do I care, the Program was founded under Elis. A good man, who was dropped into an impossible situation-" Tonys arms flapped wildly. "-I've known Lord for a long time, and if he's pressuring me for more control over the armour, it's not for anything good."

"You know he's put through my transfer papers to Groom Lake, signed them personally. Next Sunday."

"Well I wouldn't pack my bags just yet if I were you-"

"Tony, if you do this-"

"I know, but it's something I have to do."

Jim just sighed. "I know you do, I know you do."
Sep Member

Definitely Not Sep

Status

Recent Statuses

Bio

Most Recent Posts
