Yama
Member
'You didn't think I was just going to roll around on the floor going meow meow meow did you?!'
Posts: 61
Traffic Light: Red
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Post by Yama on Jun 20, 2015 5:09:49 GMT -8
The firing down below had stopped bringing about an eerie silence. The large tail flicked side giving away hid enthusiasm. Slinging the rifle over his shoulder and leaped into the building. The sound of a sickening squish combined with bones breaking brought Yama's eyes down to his feet. An unfortunate nurse had fallen unconcious in the wrong place and now was flattened underneath the large form of Yama. Brain matter and gore coated the area around his feet. The look of disgust was lost behind the helmet. Finding the nearest body he wiped his feet off, a therapist would be thank him for the level of emotional scarring he had just created.
Back to work, his eyes scanned through the remaining gassy mist locating several large forms laying upon the ground unmoving. Huge tubes penetration their hulking masses. Though as big as they were by human standards they still fell short of Tog standards. Still, the tubes and mass of muscle allowed them to be spotted easily.
Yama doubted these were the only ones in the building, you didn't just hire Yama and his associate together for 3 or 4 of these muscle heads. He had to be quick, getting on the comm link built into his helmet, Yama knew he had to keep his partner posted.
I'm inside, all Non targets are down, I have a visual on 3 juicers. Moving to execute, will continue searching for more combatives, over
Yama had already crossed the distance between himself and the first of three meat bags, pistol drawn. A well placed head shot nearly point blank sent blood, bone, and brain matter flying. The silencer kept the are quiet. Making his way to the next one curiosity grew within him, how much could these bodies take? Standing over the second one, Yama lifted a giant foot and slammed his down upon the head crushing it like a grape; very disappointing. Wiping the foot off he made his way to the last one. A clawed paw reached out and grabbed the top of the head of the juicer. Lifting up his other paw grabbed his shoulders. The position was like starting a chainsaw, with a quick firm tug the head with spinal cord were ripped out of the body.
Throwing his head Yama let out a roar, a challenge to any others inside. The walls echoed, and once again silence. Tossing the trophy aside, he would come back for it later. Unslinging the rifle Yama chose one of the hallways and began silently stalking down leaving the room behind him.
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Callidus
Member
Posts: 50
Affiliation: The Dominion
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Post by Callidus on Jun 20, 2015 13:46:29 GMT -8
Trask watched in silence as his 'partner' first killed a civilian, then went about the chore of eliminating three Juicers whose affiliation was still unknown. He also noted several explosions deeper inside the facility, and due to their location at various power junctions, it seemed that someone was intent on taking out the lights.
This is your only warning. Do not harm another civilian, or your contract will be terminated. Proceed.
He didn't really care that the feline would likely take that as a hostile action and terminate the contract of his own volition as a matter of some twisted personal honor, or that it probably meant he would be forced to complete the mission alone. He also didn't see the need to tell his 'partner' about the fourth member of the squad he'd just pissed off. He'd find out soon enough.
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Post by The Shadow King on Jun 20, 2015 13:47:18 GMT -8
Being the only loyal squad still in the facility, Bartol Flyn and his brothers had been tasked by their superiors with the apprehension of a squad of juicers that had taken poorly to their meds and gone rogue. He'd been the first to suit up and was scouting ahead when he came across a large room full of an unknown gas (that clearly wasn't air). The room was littered with bodies, three of which were much to large to be anything but another squad of his former compatriots strewn about in various states of grisly dismemberment. Seeing the gory corpses of his brothers may have broken a mortal man, but Flyn simply regarded the scene in stoic silence. He hadn't become a juicer because he wanted the camaraderie or the friendship, he'd done it because he wanted to kill, and now it seemed he would have this kill all to himself, as long as he earned it before his own squad arrived. The gruesome nature of the scene certified that whatever had killed these men was exceedingly strong, as it was no simple task to tear a juicer limb from limb, and if the gas was capable of rendering them inert that quickly, the humans in the room didn't have much longer to live. Whatever it was, he had no doubt that an effective dose on a juicer would be a lethal dose on a normal human. He could do nothing more here.
Shifting his visor to infrared, he located the freshest set of tracks, hoisted his rifle into a ready position, and headed off after them. It didn't take long to locate the intruder, a hulking togorian with blood and gore decorating his body as he stalked through the hallways. The juicer moved in equal silence, in spite of his heavy armor, and waited until the cat reached a point where no cover would be available before drawing a bead and firing a three round burst at the center of the creature's back.
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Post by Aherk Fyyar on Jun 21, 2015 4:47:12 GMT -8
The loud roar had been a surprise.
Formidonis immediately gave the command to halt, and the four men behind him immediately darted to whatever cover was available in the hallway. The leader himself stood stock still, his piercing blue eyes slowly scanning the room ahead with his repeater; before the team was the main atrium, where the business end of things at the facility were handled, and the most likely place to find his quarry. It was a mess; several bodies were strewn about the open area, and several of them were a good deal more than merely asleep. One had been pulverized by something coming from the skylight above them. But it was the three lying on the far side of the room that caught Aherk Fyyar's attention.
At once, he almost regretted not staying on with the project. Though dead, the "Juicers" were impressive specimens to behold; taller than the average Human by a quickly calculated average of eighteen centimeters (assuming their missing heads matched the overall proportions of their body) and so muscular that their skin threatened to burst, Fyyar could only guess at their capabilities in a normal state, let alone with all of the after-market additions to their skeletal and cardiovascular systems that his former comrades would most certainly have made. And though rough in appearance, Fyyar knew enough about the fusion of biology and technology to know that their visible cybernetics were masterworks. Had he the time and the resources, the former cackling madman would have loved to haul one of the specimens back to Kamino for examination, dissection, and replication. But that had been a different man. And this was a different time. A different time that was ticking out far faster than he would have liked.
With a sniff, Fyyar knew he could go no further; what he smelled was a highly concentrated general anesthetic, and going into the atrium proper would knock an ordinary man out cold, as it had done for the people already lying there. But the gas itself was not a problem. The mist was dense, and a rough estimation told Fyyar that there was at least three times the required dose in the room per square meter. He was taking a big enough chance as it was, standing so close to the threshold of the atrium. But there was a high probability that the next person on his list was in that room, possibly overdosing on whatever chemical was keeping them from standing up and running the hell out of the darkened, half-burning building full of people with guns and roars and vendettas. The solution was simple enough, fortunately. All he had to do was have the soldiers identify the person in charge, cover down on all exits while Fyyar hoisted them up, make their exit, and not take a single breath for the entire duration of the exercise.
Not a problem.
"Hey," Formidonis hissed over his shoulder, keeping one eye squarely on the atrium, "you guys know what the person in charge here looks like, right?"
Their silence was almost as loud as the roar that shook the corridor not long ago.
"Sir," the squad leader said, his voice every bit as quiet as his boss's as he approached the atrium threshold himself, "you told us we were here for the data. Why the hell do we want the boss?"
"I don't. Delasi does."
"And you didn't think to tell us this before?"
"Didn't think it mattered, I thought you boys were professionals."
"Hey," the squad leader started, "you might be on Delasi's payroll, but you do not get to-"
The squad leader got no further when he was suddenly slammed into a duracrete wall. Fyyar's wry smile was gone, replaced by a blank slate of a face that let the squad leader see just how cold the mysterious stranger's deep blue eyes were, and always had been. Even through the thick cloth of his uniform, the black-haired Human's grip was unyielding, and no matter how hard the trained soldier tried to fight him off, the stranger did not so much as budge. In an instant, the other squad members trained their weapons on Fyyar, who merely offered them the same icy glare.
"If you truly believe that," Formidonis said, any hint of humor or humanity gone from his voice, "then have your mean open fire."
No sooner had he finished speaking than Formidonis released the squad leader, who collapsed to the ground gasping for air. Slowly, he stumbled to his feet, almost running into yet-unmoved Formidonis. He gazed at the stranger, his eyes wide and his breath sharp, the question shifting from who the stranger thought he was to who, in fact, the stranger actually was. He took a step back, gently shaking his head in disbelief before waving to his men, silently ordering them to fall back. As he reached his team, the man on his right readied his weapon only to have the barrel slapped away; tempting though it was, Delasi was known for her temper, and killing the man she had sent to deal with their predicament had no promises of ending well. They moved back as they did forward, with slow, measured steps and laser precision, becoming smaller in Formidonis's view until they rounded the corner they had come from and were gone.
Formidonis turned his eyes to the storage device in his left hand, having pulled it off of the squad leader while choking him. Pocketing it, he moved into the atrium with neither sound nor breath. There would be more than enough clues in the room to find out who was in charge.
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Yama
Member
'You didn't think I was just going to roll around on the floor going meow meow meow did you?!'
Posts: 61
Traffic Light: Red
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Post by Yama on Jun 29, 2015 6:10:36 GMT -8
The definition of silence held two different meaning between the ear of a human, and the keen cat ears of a Tog. While to the human ear the juicers moved as silent as shadows, Yama heard differently. Sound aside the juicers put off a particular scent thanks to the chemicals that were pumped into their bodies.
Yama moved down the hallway waiting for the right moment where no cover would be provided; it seemed the stalker had the same thing in mind. As Yama leaped to the left, spinning a 180 and spray firing shots wizzed by in the same area he had been seconds prior. The rifle fire had little chance of hitting anything, and doing little more than granting Yama the breathing room the reach a corner that lead into yet another large open room which branched further into three different halls, and hosted an elevator. The rooms layout was much like a giant lower case t, and was littered with chairs, bodies from the massacre the formerly living juicers had participated in. Over turned tables, desks and broken potted plants told of the fire fight that had already happened here.
Once behind a small amount of cover Yama could calculate his next move
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Post by The Shadow King on Jun 29, 2015 16:39:32 GMT -8
Flyn wasted no time diving for cover or moving to shield his faceplate from the oncoming barrage, instead charging through it in a burst of speed that would make any jedi proud, reaching the door to the room before the Togorian had moved more than four steps inside. He hadn't bothered to watch and see if any of the bolts had struck him, but the lack of alarms going off in his HUD indicated that if any had, the damage was purely superficial. His rifle was still raised from his previous attack, and as soon as he could see the large cat through the door frame he squeezed the trigger and opened fire with another three round burst at the center of his mass, though adjusted slightly for the location of his opponent's heart.
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Post by Aherk Fyyar on Jun 29, 2015 17:04:35 GMT -8
Formidonis ignored the sounds of gunfire echoing down one of the hallways leading from the atrium, scanning the room with a look that would be most akin to disgust; even in the best case scenario, nobody lying on the ground would be in any condition to help him within any meaningful time frame. The most likely outcome was less optimistic. Whatever gas was in the room had felled a Juicer, whose biological modifications and mechanical implants should have given him at least some measure of protection against inhalants and their effects. If the gas had managed to knock him out, then the rest of the people in the room were as good as dead, forced into unconsciousness and unknowingly overdosing if they had not already.
Someone had - perhaps inadvertently - killed his target before any information could be obtained.
This left precious few options to the vengeful scientist. He could not interrogate whoever had been in charge here, even if he would have been able to identify them. He could not stay in the atrium much longer, either; anybody mad enough to stay in the security rooms and watching the chaos unfold would have noticed that Formidonis had been standing in a room full of anesthetic gas far longer than a person should have been able to. And he certainly could not go back to Delasi's office, either. Even if the commando squad he had just relieved of duty had not alerted their fellow soldiers to his sudden turn of character, the people in the office would doubtlessly have found the Devaronian woman's corpse by now. Fortunately, the solution to his problem presented itself almost as soon as the question had been asked.
The echoes of blaster fire still rang in the hallway, not terribly far from Formidonis's own position. Given the nature of the situation at hand, one of the gunmen would have to be one of the Juicers. And even the dumbest of the brutes would know who was at the head of this thing. If they had been fully trained, there would have been some kind of meeting with the head of the operation. And once the commander in chief was located, Formidonis could then work his way down the chain instead of up.
His face betrayed no emotion as he sprinted towards the gunfire, readying his yet-unfired heavy repeater as he turned corner after corner. And as he rounded one, he spotted the combatants. One was a Togorian, which accounted for the monstrous roar Formidonis had heard earlier. And the other was heavily armored, their sheer size and speed in the context of the location pointing to the wearer being a Juicer.
The new mission parameters were set; keep the Juicer alive.
Posting up at the corner of the hallway and covering down behind the wall, Formidonis opened fire.
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Yama
Member
'You didn't think I was just going to roll around on the floor going meow meow meow did you?!'
Posts: 61
Traffic Light: Red
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Post by Yama on Jul 3, 2015 11:37:09 GMT -8
Damn if this guy wasn't ballsy. Not only did he not do as Yama thought he'd do, like any normal creature, but he charged forward like some demon hot after his soul. Yama barely rounded the corner when the familiar burn came from his right arm. Though only a flesh wound it still stung. The smell of burnt hair would quickly follow. He barely had time to register this when the sound of another rifle sounded down the hall which he had just come. Rounds seemed to eat at the smooth corner sending debris flying. Reaching into his pouch Yama loaded the grenade launcher with a flash bang grenade and readied himself. Mustering his voice Yama called out in common.
"Hold your fire, I've been hired to help take out the rogues!!"
If fire didn't cease soon Yama would know this was no friendly but another target to which the flash bang would be used to disoriente his prey before he pounced.
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Post by Aherk Fyyar on Jul 3, 2015 13:06:24 GMT -8
There was no response. Not verbally, anyway; the rounds flying out of the Imperial heavy repeater kept chewing away at the duracrete corners, making Formidonis' intent quite clear, but the man himself did not so much as grunt in response. The Togorian in the room was standing between him and his objective. His objective, fortunately enough, was armored enough to withstand glancing blows from his own weapon. But as it stood, the Juicer himself did not yet know that.
Perhaps a response was warranted after all.
"Soldier!" Formidonis shouted above the din of his blaster fire, "What've you got in there?"
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Post by The Shadow King on Jul 3, 2015 22:03:19 GMT -8
His shots somehow managed to go drastically wide of his target, and for a moment he wondered if there was something wrong with his rifle, or perhaps the dosages of his meds. The moment passed quickly, however, and in the next he was taking another step forward. He had only slowed enough to make the corner as he advanced, and while his rapid motion might have been enough to shake the aim of an ordinary man, he was very far from ordinary and certain that his aim was as deadly as ever. Except, it seemed, when his target was more than a full meter wide and no more than five meters distant. He'd have to worry about that later.
He felt three light impacts on his shoulder and back plates before he was through the door and clear of the new onslaught, and deduced that this new threat was armed with a slugthrower of some kind. An interesting choice, but for the moment a non-threat. The more pressing issue was the hulking Togorian he'd just overtaken, and who was reaching for something in his pouch. Dropping his shoulder and lining himself up to absorb the impact, he propelled himself at the creature's ribs at a speed that would be jarring at best, and outright lethal at worst. Though he'd heard that Tog's had hard bones or something once, so he had reason to hope they weren't as squishy as normal people.
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Yama
Member
'You didn't think I was just going to roll around on the floor going meow meow meow did you?!'
Posts: 61
Traffic Light: Red
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Post by Yama on Jul 6, 2015 9:58:40 GMT -8
Yama heard him before he saw him, forgoing the flashbang he was able to have both hands free just in time for the Juicer to start shooting in. With paws on the soldier's shoulders Yama kicked his lower body out pressing the full weight of his body down upon the neck. The momentum combined with the added weight would direct the juicer down to the ground with Yama right on top, in an almost backwards 'north south position'.
Not wanting to lose the advantage Yama hooks the Juicer's right arm, and pivots on it in order to take the juicers back and further control the fight. With knees on either side of the juicers body at hip level Yama would do one of two things pending how's the juicer reacted. If the juicer tried to buck or roll Yama woukd use the new space under the juicer to sink in a 'rear naked choke' and in turn a full 'anaconda'. If the Juicer tried to reach for a weapon Yama woukd easily be able to control the arms and rain deadly blows to the back of the neck and head. If the juicer ceased his struggle Yama woukd hear him out.
The next few moments and how things would go were in the hands of the juicer.
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Post by The Shadow King on Jul 6, 2015 12:50:29 GMT -8
Flyn was surprised when the Togorian managed to react to the charge, fast as it was, but that surprise did not last long. He watched as his opponents muscles tensed in preparation for the impact, watched as his limbs crawled through molasses in an attempt to reach him. Time slowed as the drugs blazed through his system and suddenly he had all the time in the world. More than enough to counter the sprawl he could see coming in the large cat's movements. He was almost worried that he might get bored waiting for it to happen. If only he had a holo he could watch on fast forward while he waited... When the large paws finally made contact with his shoulders, Flyn slid his left foot forward and straightened his back to push up against the downward pressure, and with his rifle already in hand it was a simple matter to twist his torso and orient it toward the large feline's mostly unprotected chest and abdomen.
With his new posture he would be better able to resist the downward force his opponent would no doubt be looking to apply, and a quick squeeze of the trigger would no doubt wreak untold havoc on the plans the cat was formulating. Except that when he did depress the trigger, it was not a hail of blasterfire that answered his summons, but a shower of sparks. When an armored paw gripped the rifle's barrel, it was a simple decision to release his grip and let the feline have it, knowing what was coming. He followed by pivoting his body as his left foot rose, driving a vicious side kick directly into his opponent's midsection that would send him careening away in the precious few moments before the rifle, somehow damaged in the altercation, detonated its power cell in a fantastic display of light and sound.
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Post by Aherk Fyyar on Jul 6, 2015 12:58:27 GMT -8
Formidonis did not wait when the fight moved out of his sight. Breaking cover and keeping his weapon down the hallway, the man moved with speed and focus uncommon among his species, letting off short bursts of fire to hide his approach. He knew where they were. He figured the fight had gone to close quarters, judging by the sudden lack of blaster fire. And no matter how long the space the duelists had entered was, the pair could not have gotten far.
A blind man probably could have gotten a bead on the Juicer's attacker.
Formidonis swung wide opposite the hallway, taking care to not let the muzzle of his repeater break the threshold of the hall before he could fire. And as soon as the targets were reacquired - and Formidonis instantly identified the Togorian and opened fire once again, using the corner of the hallway as a barricade.
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Yama
Member
'You didn't think I was just going to roll around on the floor going meow meow meow did you?!'
Posts: 61
Traffic Light: Red
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Post by Yama on Jul 12, 2015 7:04:23 GMT -8
The large cat went flying towards the elevator, time seemed to slow as the rifle now seemingly brought to life changed color, expanding and contracted rapidly almost as if it were hyperventilating. Yama's back made contact with the doors by the time the rifle finally exploded. This explosion further slingshoted Yama into the elevator shaft where he vanished from sight. One moment he was there the next he vanished into the pitch black elevator shaft as the boom echoed out into the surrounding area.
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Post by Aherk Fyyar on Jul 12, 2015 11:55:00 GMT -8
That took care of that.
Keeping his weapon pointed at the doors, Formidonis ejected the barely-loaded magazine and went to insert a fresh one, not taking his eyes off of the darkness through which the Togorian had flown into. The objective had been achieved; he had a Juicer - a live one, no less - and he could start to figure out just who the next link on his chain was. It was time to open the dialogue.
"So," Formidonis said, his tone unusually chipper for having been through a gunfight, "you good?"
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Post by The Shadow King on Jul 12, 2015 13:05:01 GMT -8
As soon as the most immediate threat was no longer an issue, Flyn spun to face the next one, drawing his pistol as he turned and centering his aim on the being's head. It was a human, partially concealed behind the cover of the doorway, and lacking the blood and gore that had prompted the immediate aggressive response to the cat-man. Still, he wasn't wearing a security uniform, or armed with a standard issue weapon, so it was obvious he wasn't supposed to be here either.
"Drop the gun, or I'm gonna have to assume you're hostile."
It wasn't so much a request as it was a thinly veiled threat concealed behind an order and backed up by a really big pistol, but something told Flyn that wouldn't be phasing the man he faced. Something was off. He seemed too... still. As he spoke, his left hand reached down to his hip, where a piece of shrapnel from his rifle had embedded itself in the joint between his armor's plating, wrenching it free without so much as a grunt in order to allow the wound to heal.
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Post by Aherk Fyyar on Jul 12, 2015 13:14:56 GMT -8
Formidonis's eyes quickly darted to the Juicer as he spoke. As soon as the command was given, both of his hands sprang up to frame his face, his fingers splayed, the repeater dropping to the floor with a clatter. The Bryar pistol still strapped to his hip was out of view - that part of his leg still covered behind the wall - but it made little difference to the dark-haired man; he would never be able to draw it out before the Juicer could fire, and besides, if the Juicer wanted him to drop it then Formidonis would oblige. There was no need for further violence here. The super soldier probably had information Formidonis needed to continue his mission, and starting or prolonging an engagement would only delay him further.
Delays would not be tolerated.
"You may want to get that looked at, buddy," Formidonis said, his eyes darting to the wound that the Juicer had just opened, "it looks bad. Intestinal bleeding is a mother. Anybody on-site we can wheel you to?"
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Post by The Shadow King on Jul 12, 2015 13:28:51 GMT -8
With the blockage gone, the chemicals and nanites raging through his system went to work on the wound, clotting the blood as soon as it touched air and sealing it off from infection even as the flesh began to knit itself back together. Whatever you might think about the program itself, it couldn't be said that the results weren't effective. Armed with the knowledge that the wound would be little more than a thin scar and a memory within the hour, Flyn ignored the man's apparent concern for his well being.
"Give me a good reason I shouldn't put one through your forehead. You're not staff, and you're not military, so my orders don't include your survival."
He moved as he spoke, closing the distance between himself and his target until they came face to face, then he stepped through the door and back into the hall, removing his advantage of cover. He also knew it wouldn't be much longer before the rest of his team arrived, at which point he could leave this annoyance behind and get on with his mission.
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Post by Aherk Fyyar on Jul 12, 2015 13:57:22 GMT -8
"If I was here to kill people, don't you think I'd have kept the rifle? Can you say the same for the fuzzball we just sent on his way?"
There were too many variables in play for Formidonis to lay out a concrete lie. He had no way of knowing what the Juicer did or did not know, or how the soldier planned on taking him. By keeping things to what they had in common, the dark-haired Human could at least try to establish a rapport and use what information the soldier himself provided as springboards to carry the conversation forward. It did not have to be a terribly long conversation, either. All Formidonis needed was the name of the person in charge of the facility and some method of disengaging the Juicer that would not result in getting shot with a pistol the size of his forearm.
Formidonis remained still as the Juicer approached. If he wanted to get within arm's reach, more power to him.
"Look," Formidonis continued, completely unfazed, "take it like this. I'm carrying an Imperial heavy repeating rifle. Standard magazine carries 100 bolts. Dropped the mag over there, should be about eighteen left, including the one in the chamber. When we're done here, look for the holes. I can promise you they're only going to be in this room."
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Post by Urgayle Pyro on Jul 15, 2015 17:23:05 GMT -8
Pyro moved quickly. He stayed away from the sounds of heavy fire, keeping to the shadows and maintaining a low-pro for as long as he could. ("playing against type" was how Eryn would put it.) That wasn't to say he was lying down on the job. The orders had been vague: assume hostile. S&D. But this was friendly territory, and the first person he had seen had been a human. A doctor of some sort. Hurt, but moving under his own steam. Pyro had levelled the barrel of the fearsome BB-23 at the doctor, a full three seconds before he had seen Pyro, his head cranked back over his shoulder, escaping some as-yet unseen menace. Pyro had time to decide what to do, how to do it, and how silent or messy it should be... but ultimately lowered his weapon, and simply caught the man around the shoulders, clapping a canned-ham-sized mitt over his mouth, stifling the scream before it had a chance. He struggled feebly in the big man's arms for a few seconds before realizing the futility of the gesture. In the background, sporadic gunfire laid down a macabre backing track.
He turned the man to face him, the doctor's feet a full two feet off the floor, and the med-lab tech's face went white, and the smell of urine filled the air. Pyro kept his voice low.
Easy, doc... keep it together. He glanced down at the blood-smeared ident-tag. Fireblast -- the man was a government employee. I'm going to take my hand away. You try to yell for help, I'll swat your head off your neck, understand? A feeble nod. What's going on here?
Y-y-you're gen. 2... I... I installed your bio-comp... the tech's left index finger reached out for Pyro's chest, pointing to one of the implants below the armor. 'nuff o that, doc... I'm gonna ask one more time, what's happening here? The man glanced nervously over his shoulder, nearly bolted, if Pyro hadn't held him clear of the floor. Th-them. The Roughneck squad. They were on last call, every one of 'em. Metabolics, adrenals, everything maxed, everything spent. The Sergeant, he-he lost it. Killed the OR team. Bunch of security personnel. All hell broke loose aft...
The man slumped, limp in Pyro's hands. The big man's brow furrowed. Heart attack? Feint?
Gas.
Pyro didn't take one last breath. He simply held onto what was left in his lungs as he dropped the unconscious med tech and fished his rebreather from a small pouch. Child's play. Once it was in place, he checked the vitals of the med tech. Alive. He pulled the man into the recovery position in the shadows, and moved off, down the hall, keying his comm set to his squad's secure channel.
Ell-tee. Two here. Game has changed. It's Jax. Jax and the Roughnecks are the Big Bad. Engage, over?
There was no reply. No open line, not even the sounds of small-arms fire. No response from Kardel. That was not good. That had never happened before. No matter. He moved further into the complex. The 'live' bodies were becoming rare, replaced by smears of crimson. Jax knew what he knew. Their training was identical. If his squad was even somewhat intact, they'd move to high ground, gather intel, and extract.
Pyro moved deeper into the complex, knowing they'd be face to face very soon. Then the lights went out.
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