Post to come tonight.
RNG has favored the concealment team and the intrepid security room team.
Loading bay will not have a fun time.
RNG has favored the concealment team and the intrepid security room team.
Loading bay will not have a fun time.
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Most Recent Posts
“Captain” James Castleton
"Because first off, our best chance here is to work together for now. We don't know this place and we don't have money. While one or two of you -" she glanced at Molybdenum and Bandit, "Can hide the fact you just got off a prison ship, the rest of us can't unless we want to run around this desert in our underwear which would be ill advised for a host of other reasons. We look like a bunch of escaped convicts, and I'd rather not end up unexpectedly escaping the labour camps only to end up straight back in whatever this planet's equivalent of a prison is."
“I don’t know.” James pitched in from his position at the front of the impromptu column. “A poor soul in their underwear; tragically robbed and left for dead might be a decent foot into the town.”
A pause as he spit and glared at the steadily rising sun.
“Or at least draw attention away from a band of enterprising scroungers.”
@Flarbinia, the primaries are the VIP's we're looking to extract. Just FYI.
Very well. we shall see where the spinner lies. Your guy is not firing for some reason correct?
I'm a bit a loose ends as to what my character will be doing so feel free to weight my spinner towards the bad side, in the hopes I'll have more for him to deal with.
Very well. we shall see where the spinner lies. Your guy is not firing for some reason correct?
Obsidian Dynamics Research Facility
Utah
En-Route to Security Room
The route to the security room took the trio of Acheron contractors up a set of stairs. The flight of stairs a fire exit that had been in use before something had cut through whoever had tried to sue it. AT least if the vicious sprays of blood on the walls were any indicators.
But like the lobby; the stairs remained empty of any corpses. Just discarded belongings and a blood trail.
Eventually, the three entered a hallway on the second floor. Expensive carpet and faux wood stained permanently. The heavy metal door of what had been the security room having been ripped from its doorframe. Laying sadly in the hall.
And behind the door, in the middle of the hall, stood three figures. Humanoid; their skin pale and marred by fresh scars hastily stapled shut. Dried blood still on their frames. In the light of the hall one could see that the majority of the scars covered their heads and faces. Their features slack which made the piercing blue glow of their eyes even more pronounced.
What probably drew the gaze of the trio however was the figures' limbs. Metal constructions that ended at the pelvis and shoulders for their respective limbs. Crude but functional looking implements that now began to move.
Electric blue eyes intensifying in glare for a split second before the most forward figure of the humanoids spoke. Or more like let its jaw hang open entirely and an electronically warbling squelch emanated from it.
"Stttand bbbyy for proc- proc....essing."
Then they stepped forwrd in shaky unison.
@Dyelli Beybi, @Theyra,@PrinceAlexus
------------
Field Contract Advisor Samantha Norr
Obsidian Dynamics Research Facility
Utah
"So we get their cell phones. What next. Tell them we're mysterious benefactors there to get them out?" Sam hoped she didn't come out as condescending. Truly trying to understand the plan.
They still had to go into the facility to find them didn't they?
"Contact!!! Loading Bay!!!!" The radio Sam had hastily thrown over her shoulder harness screamed at max volume. The woman wincing as she hurriedly scrambled to turn it down. Off in the distance the suppressed and unsuppressed roar of automatic fire rang from the loading bay. Panicked voices and calm voices intermingling as Daniel's voice tried to direct unfolding chaos.
Sam cast a gray eyed gaze at the front door and then back to the good doctor.
"Think the gunfire will help?"
@Tesserach, @PatientBean
------------
Field Commander Daniel Graves
Obsidian Dynamics Research Facility
Utah
Graves was creeping through the halls; somewhere in the middle of Lima team when one of the sniper's came over the radio.
Grave's light played over a formerly glass enclosed office. A sofa having been thrown through the panel and its occupant dragged out over the waist high glass shards. At least if the trail of gore and broken glass was anything to go by.
He toggled the radio for the sniper.
"Does it look like one of the primaries?" His boot crunched on debris as the trail led them to another beaten down set of doors. Heavier then the last ones. A bloody handprint smeared on the side that would have led deeper into the facility.
"Contact!!! Loading Bay!!!!" The radio squelched in his ear. The accompanying gunfire echoing through the halls. Graves swore under his breath, barely audible as he turned.
"Juliet hold here. Lima with me." The commander taking off at a cautious lope in the direction of the loading bay. The purloined team following in trace.
---------
The loading bay was much the same as the lobby. Blood trails and devoid of the corpses that had caused them.
Kilo team and Stokes spreading out to search the far corners before meeting up at the end of the...
"Contact!!! Loading Bay!!!!" The cry came from the right side of the bay. Beside a set of overturned racks. The Acherons shooter's rifle light illuminated a hulking figure. A dull yellow jumpsuit covered a frame that screamed of steroids and endless weight machines. But the face looked blank; a throwback to caveman time. Large forehead, jutting jaw and heavy eyebrows that framed a pair of blazing electric blue eyes.
He hefted a body by its belt. A bearded figure limp, neck at an odd angle. The 'Press' badge dangling from a a shirt that was now dried brown.
Five more figures, like the ones encountered up stairs, waited patiently in the wake of the jumpsuited figure.
Until the rifle light splayed over them too. Then they surged forward.
The gunfire started soon after.
@JFK
Utah
En-Route to Security Room
The route to the security room took the trio of Acheron contractors up a set of stairs. The flight of stairs a fire exit that had been in use before something had cut through whoever had tried to sue it. AT least if the vicious sprays of blood on the walls were any indicators.
But like the lobby; the stairs remained empty of any corpses. Just discarded belongings and a blood trail.
Eventually, the three entered a hallway on the second floor. Expensive carpet and faux wood stained permanently. The heavy metal door of what had been the security room having been ripped from its doorframe. Laying sadly in the hall.
And behind the door, in the middle of the hall, stood three figures. Humanoid; their skin pale and marred by fresh scars hastily stapled shut. Dried blood still on their frames. In the light of the hall one could see that the majority of the scars covered their heads and faces. Their features slack which made the piercing blue glow of their eyes even more pronounced.
What probably drew the gaze of the trio however was the figures' limbs. Metal constructions that ended at the pelvis and shoulders for their respective limbs. Crude but functional looking implements that now began to move.
Electric blue eyes intensifying in glare for a split second before the most forward figure of the humanoids spoke. Or more like let its jaw hang open entirely and an electronically warbling squelch emanated from it.
"Stttand bbbyy for proc- proc....essing."
Then they stepped forwrd in shaky unison.
@Dyelli Beybi, @Theyra,@PrinceAlexus
------------
Field Contract Advisor Samantha Norr
Obsidian Dynamics Research Facility
Utah
"So we get their cell phones. What next. Tell them we're mysterious benefactors there to get them out?" Sam hoped she didn't come out as condescending. Truly trying to understand the plan.
They still had to go into the facility to find them didn't they?
"Contact!!! Loading Bay!!!!" The radio Sam had hastily thrown over her shoulder harness screamed at max volume. The woman wincing as she hurriedly scrambled to turn it down. Off in the distance the suppressed and unsuppressed roar of automatic fire rang from the loading bay. Panicked voices and calm voices intermingling as Daniel's voice tried to direct unfolding chaos.
Sam cast a gray eyed gaze at the front door and then back to the good doctor.
"Think the gunfire will help?"
@Tesserach, @PatientBean
------------
Field Commander Daniel Graves
Obsidian Dynamics Research Facility
Utah
Graves was creeping through the halls; somewhere in the middle of Lima team when one of the sniper's came over the radio.
"Human spotted. I think it's one of the employees." Redeker said over the radio as he watched someone approach the window. The man on the fourth floor was looking outside, trying to get attention from anyone outside. "Dumbass is shoutin' and bangin' on the window. I can't hear him at this distance, but makin' all that noise is ringin' the dinner bell for any monsters that might be on the fourth floor. Don't be surprised if he's dead by the time anyone gets up there." Redecker Krueger said over the radio as he continued watching.
Grave's light played over a formerly glass enclosed office. A sofa having been thrown through the panel and its occupant dragged out over the waist high glass shards. At least if the trail of gore and broken glass was anything to go by.
He toggled the radio for the sniper.
"Does it look like one of the primaries?" His boot crunched on debris as the trail led them to another beaten down set of doors. Heavier then the last ones. A bloody handprint smeared on the side that would have led deeper into the facility.
"Contact!!! Loading Bay!!!!" The radio squelched in his ear. The accompanying gunfire echoing through the halls. Graves swore under his breath, barely audible as he turned.
"Juliet hold here. Lima with me." The commander taking off at a cautious lope in the direction of the loading bay. The purloined team following in trace.
---------
The loading bay was much the same as the lobby. Blood trails and devoid of the corpses that had caused them.
Kilo team and Stokes spreading out to search the far corners before meeting up at the end of the...
"Contact!!! Loading Bay!!!!" The cry came from the right side of the bay. Beside a set of overturned racks. The Acherons shooter's rifle light illuminated a hulking figure. A dull yellow jumpsuit covered a frame that screamed of steroids and endless weight machines. But the face looked blank; a throwback to caveman time. Large forehead, jutting jaw and heavy eyebrows that framed a pair of blazing electric blue eyes.
He hefted a body by its belt. A bearded figure limp, neck at an odd angle. The 'Press' badge dangling from a a shirt that was now dried brown.
Five more figures, like the ones encountered up stairs, waited patiently in the wake of the jumpsuited figure.
Until the rifle light splayed over them too. Then they surged forward.
The gunfire started soon after.
@JFK
[@PatientBean, do you have any post planned?
If not we will move onto the spinner determined events. Praise be RNG.
If not we will move onto the spinner determined events. Praise be RNG.
Commander Stader Volger
Aside with Mika Ganishka
Aside with Mika Ganishka
"...Why don't we make a deal? You wish to conserve your fighting strength to do what you must do should the time come, but considering you did that space walk earlier I'm assuming that also means you can't refuse the prince either when he orders you in the line of fire. Weeeell, I happen to have under my employ a bunch of psychopaths who are happy to do all the dying for us! Like, literally, pay is for the group so they make more the fewer of them survive, they're all high out of their mind, they don't give a shit. So, when a situation looks hot, I let you borrow my guys. Send them in the grinder first, let them draw in fire and trigger the ambushes so you and your guys do your thing. And in exchange, well... I work with you and you work with me."
She offered, a predatory smirk on her face as she extended a hand to shake on this deal.
Volger was stuck between two sayings his father had always said. One was about swimming with sharks. The other was that a thief beside you was better then one behind you.
The captain’s grin reminded Volger of the ice sharks of Europa. Gleaming intelligent eyes above a toothy maw in something approaching amusement. Her hand waiting for his, if he accepted.
Which Volger considered.
She might be an opportunistic, pirate chasing a title and riches. But she was also right; he needed to preserve his troopers. Especially, if this was the prologue to a prolonged campaign.
Besides; better he found ground with the former pirate sooner rather then later.
“Alright…” The commander pulled his right gauntlet off; bare skin exposed as he reciprocated the handshake. Finding what he expected. Strong but calloused grip that accompanied the amused gaze. “… well team up for now. Swing by infantry company tonight so we can iron out the details.”
The soft chirp of his TacPad signaled a message. Volger casting a glance at the device to find it came from Lt. Diaz. His second having been supervising the initial round of interrogations. The information coming from the more ragged pirates that the professionals had abandoned.
Most of it was the usual chaff the intel section would collect and puzzle together. But a few things stood out. Namely…
“Tell me Mika…” Her name slightly enunciated. “Does a group called ‘Medusa’ sound familiar?”
On the TacPad two of the interrogations were still underway. One interrogator obviously a graduate of the Amazon based school of torture; at least judging by the array of syringes they were cycling through.
Posted.
Full disclaimer follow on events will be left to RNG. The almighty spinner will determine future events and I have the job of massaging it into our glorious RP.
Praise be to RNG.
Full disclaimer follow on events will be left to RNG. The almighty spinner will determine future events and I have the job of massaging it into our glorious RP.
Praise be to RNG.
Field Commander Daniel Graves
Obsidian Dynamics Research Facility
Utah
Graves felt the familiar crunch of glass and debris underfoot; boots plodding though the ruined security checkpoint that had once serviced the missing front door.
Turned over chairs, a flipped table, the familiar dull gleam of spent casings amidst the dust.
And blood. Not fresh; but fresh enough to still hold the familiar crimson color on the previous polished floor.
Concerning was the distinct lack of bodies to go with the blood spattering the floor and walls.
And the obvious blood trail that denoted something being dragged.
Grave reset this grip on the MK18; the slight anxious shuffling of his trigger finger while making his way into the lobby.
It was more of the same as the checkpoint. A previously opened area full of plush waiting chairs, a receptionist area, an abandoned in house (off brand) coffee shop and obvious signs of struggle.
Bloody handprints and spatters were visible in surfaces in the still functioning industrial lighting. Personal articles discarded in the chaos but signs of their owners. A few weapons, Sigs-Sauer pistols, lay discarded as well. Slides sacked backed but no signs of their targets.
The only trace of any bodies was the same as the checkpoint.
A massive blood trail that led through a, now beaten open, double door. The trail from the checkpoint haven converged with several from the lobby to form a massive snaking mass of dried gore.
“Oh that’s just perfect.” Graves voice was muffled by the gas mask but the sarcasm was evident.
“Bet you it’s zombies.” That was Greene; one of the guys Graves had picked to help staff up Silent Mountain. Good shooter but always jumpy in the initial stages.
“It’s not zombies.” Graves rebuked. Not out of any sense of certainty but rather stopping them from focusing on a threat that hadn’t even been ID’d yet.
Movement in the corner of his eye had Graves catch sight of the security camera. Old school corner mounted style; oddly its recording light wasn’t red but a deep electric blue. It panned over the lobby taking in the enemy arrived team and seemed to stop on Graves.
The commander stared at it for a second before turning to the two nearest shooters.
Fabio and Kedem.
Fabio wasn’t wearing his gas mask; aviators still affixed to his face. Kedem looked like the typical Direct action type on mission; only distinguishable from the others by the slightest of difference in stance.
“Fabio, Kedem. Go get that tech with the giant shotgun. Find the security room and see if someone is locked inside. Or maybe a recording of what happened.”
Behind him Lima Team cautiously prepared to follow the blood trial through the door. Weapons up as they slowly entered into the hall beyond.
The distant crump and the ensuring shaking beneath his boots signaled Kilo team had breached the loading bay. The lack of gunfire or follow on transmission denoted an equal absence of contact.
Graves just hoped it would stay this way.
But judging by the flood of images every time he glanced at that blood trail. The peace would not last.
@Dyelli Beybi, @Theyra,@PrinceAlexus
—————————-
Field Contract Advisor Samantha Norr
Obsidian Dynamics Research Facility
Utah
Norr had wished she had changed her field attire before leaving the bunker. The gray of the uniform eating the heat of the desert.
She gave a rueful glare at the off didn’t sun before she shifted her hat’s brim down slightly. Coming beside Dr. Mansour as the explosions of the breach faded.
“I know I have little experience in your field.” She stated off adopting the tone the managing handbook described as ‘informative but not patronizing’ “But the reporters’ news van is over there.”
A nod of her head at the van with the shrink wrapped logo of a local news station emblazoned in its side. Untouched except by the dusty wind and now shockwave of the breach. Though except for a subtle rocking it appeared more or less intact.
“Maybe we can look it over while we have the time….before the hooting starts at least.” A look of displeasure on her face that notion.
@Tesserach, @PatientBean
Obsidian Dynamics Research Facility
Utah
Graves felt the familiar crunch of glass and debris underfoot; boots plodding though the ruined security checkpoint that had once serviced the missing front door.
Turned over chairs, a flipped table, the familiar dull gleam of spent casings amidst the dust.
And blood. Not fresh; but fresh enough to still hold the familiar crimson color on the previous polished floor.
Concerning was the distinct lack of bodies to go with the blood spattering the floor and walls.
And the obvious blood trail that denoted something being dragged.
Grave reset this grip on the MK18; the slight anxious shuffling of his trigger finger while making his way into the lobby.
It was more of the same as the checkpoint. A previously opened area full of plush waiting chairs, a receptionist area, an abandoned in house (off brand) coffee shop and obvious signs of struggle.
Bloody handprints and spatters were visible in surfaces in the still functioning industrial lighting. Personal articles discarded in the chaos but signs of their owners. A few weapons, Sigs-Sauer pistols, lay discarded as well. Slides sacked backed but no signs of their targets.
The only trace of any bodies was the same as the checkpoint.
A massive blood trail that led through a, now beaten open, double door. The trail from the checkpoint haven converged with several from the lobby to form a massive snaking mass of dried gore.
“Oh that’s just perfect.” Graves voice was muffled by the gas mask but the sarcasm was evident.
“Bet you it’s zombies.” That was Greene; one of the guys Graves had picked to help staff up Silent Mountain. Good shooter but always jumpy in the initial stages.
“It’s not zombies.” Graves rebuked. Not out of any sense of certainty but rather stopping them from focusing on a threat that hadn’t even been ID’d yet.
Movement in the corner of his eye had Graves catch sight of the security camera. Old school corner mounted style; oddly its recording light wasn’t red but a deep electric blue. It panned over the lobby taking in the enemy arrived team and seemed to stop on Graves.
The commander stared at it for a second before turning to the two nearest shooters.
Fabio and Kedem.
Fabio wasn’t wearing his gas mask; aviators still affixed to his face. Kedem looked like the typical Direct action type on mission; only distinguishable from the others by the slightest of difference in stance.
“Fabio, Kedem. Go get that tech with the giant shotgun. Find the security room and see if someone is locked inside. Or maybe a recording of what happened.”
Behind him Lima Team cautiously prepared to follow the blood trial through the door. Weapons up as they slowly entered into the hall beyond.
The distant crump and the ensuring shaking beneath his boots signaled Kilo team had breached the loading bay. The lack of gunfire or follow on transmission denoted an equal absence of contact.
Graves just hoped it would stay this way.
But judging by the flood of images every time he glanced at that blood trail. The peace would not last.
@Dyelli Beybi, @Theyra,@PrinceAlexus
—————————-
Field Contract Advisor Samantha Norr
Obsidian Dynamics Research Facility
Utah
Norr had wished she had changed her field attire before leaving the bunker. The gray of the uniform eating the heat of the desert.
She gave a rueful glare at the off didn’t sun before she shifted her hat’s brim down slightly. Coming beside Dr. Mansour as the explosions of the breach faded.
“I know I have little experience in your field.” She stated off adopting the tone the managing handbook described as ‘informative but not patronizing’ “But the reporters’ news van is over there.”
A nod of her head at the van with the shrink wrapped logo of a local news station emblazoned in its side. Untouched except by the dusty wind and now shockwave of the breach. Though except for a subtle rocking it appeared more or less intact.
“Maybe we can look it over while we have the time….before the hooting starts at least.” A look of displeasure on her face that notion.
@Tesserach, @PatientBean
@Terrans Do you have names for them or how many?
It was mentioned in the briefing. There’s three them. No names and only general description.
@Terrans I can post tomorrow. Nothing amazing.
I do have a question though: How much freedom do we have when adding stuff to the world? Like am I able to come up with the information found on the journalists? Or do you have something in mind?
Nothing really concrete planned for them. So go ahead if you over step I’ll let you know.
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