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Post by Emargine "Azure" Cerola on Jul 11, 2021 0:59:56 GMT -8
Mount Symbar, Elev: 32,000m Azure's Dragoons Alpha Company, First Platoon, Callsign "Fenrir" Operation: Snipe HuntGeneral Cerola sat quietly in her seat as the dropships cut through the blizzard. As with most of their equipment, these too were procured from the Golden Gate Army, albeit upgraded with ISLET's technology. Various certain bits of new hardware and software greatly improved the avionics, so that navigation even with zero visibility was unthinkably reliable compared to what even the best earth aircraft were capable of. And some tweaks to the engine and power source ensured that no matter how bad the weather, these craft were capable of cutting through the sky smoothly. A few hours ago, recon drones had scouted of the area to enlarge their scope of Demon Clan air patrol routes and patterns. This was essential to charting a proper flight path for the Caeruleus once it was completely liberated from the glacier and restored to full functionality. Work on the ancient airship was proceeding at a reasonable pace, and if they did their jobs, they would soon have another great asset for themselves. But this would turn out to be more than a standard drone recon mission, as over the course of several runs above this area, the machines picked up a faint but alarming signal. At first, it was but a blip. A second flyby uncovered more. By then, things had gotten the general's interest, and she had them focus on the signal itself, rather than merely charting Demon Clan air patrols. Several repetitions later, and it turned out to unmistakably be a non-terminating sequence of error reports. Reports encrypted in an ancient TSE cipher. An emergency link was established to Command Centre ISLET. Normally, a mission like this was reserved for the 291st Reacquisition Wing. Unfortunately, the nearest operatives were busy handling delicate matters in North City and could not easily be pulled out. After some further deliberation, Cerola was given authorisation to move in. She tapped into the hidden ISLET frequency that only those Dragoons in the know were privy to. The dropships closed in on the target. <<SIGINT tells us the signal is error messages bound for the nearest Master Index core.>> A number of Dragoons looked at each other on her announcement. <<They're still trying to piece together the rest of the garbled up message, but suspect it may either be a clone farm or light factory.>>This operation was restricted to the closest of the circle. The fraction of the Brigade that knew of their true mission. Most were Tuffles. Some were indigenous beings who grew to support the ISLET platform. After all, if they could accomplish their mission, the Tuffles would finally be able to leave and pursue a destiny out in the stars. Classic inspirational story, just like that one movie - E.D. the Extra-Dimensional - a visitor from a parallel universe who was trapped on earth and helped by a puppyboy to find his way home. It wasn't as sappy as that. But the general idea was the same. It helped that those who joined in didn't like Saiyans in general, so... <<We've been authorised to use war-era armaments. Whatever we might run into inside, if it's gone rogue, might not be as outdated as that GANDR mech. Arm up now. Magnetic assault rifles, plasma miniguns, whatever you've been issued. Be ready for anything.>><<Got a visual on the origin, Boss,>> the pilot announced, transmitting his camera feed into the network. A large shell of metal sticking out of the side of the mountain, surrounded by a snowed-in crater. <<No clear landing spots nearby. We'll have to drop you down into the crater. ETA: two minutes.>><<Cable up! We're roping down!>> As the side doors opened, the Dragoons hooked themselves up, waiting for the final approach. Cerola took this time to say something she hadn't said in a long time... <<Storm clouds of fire and steel!>><<Say again, Boss?>> Fenrir 2-2 asked from the other transport. The general shook her head. Ah, of course. These were not her Iron Dragoons, born and raised on Planet Plant, trained, fed, and equipped by the TAS. They were all Earthborn, or even indigenous Foederati. Even her command staff was the same. Of course. Those days were long gone. These men and women were a new breed. Azure's Dragoons. But they served faithfully nonetheless. <<Wrong.>> Which was to say, the last transmission was wrong. <<Prepare for drop! Let's stay frosty, Dragoons!>>Her frequency filled with acknowledgements as the dropships hovered over the almost vertical crater. Reinforced cables dropped down into the snow, and on her signal, they began to make their descent. [783/783] Valentus The Charentis Project
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Post by Valentus on Jul 11, 2021 8:55:03 GMT -8
One ship flew over, then another, piercing through the blizzard surrounding Mount Symbar and rapidly approaching the peak. So far from any form of civilization, above one of the most desolate mountain ranges on the surface of Earth, one could hide an entire battle fleet and pretty much nobody would ever come to know of its existence. This time, however, a small duet followed them with their eyes, watching from below. Once the fleet grew more distant, Valentus Nectarine and Paizu of the Forest of Terror arose from thorny bushes scattered along a small plateau. Of course, the fairy immediately began complaining: " Why the thorny ones?! There's leaves, there's trees all around, and yet that's your first instinct to hide at?" Valentus ignored her partner's complaints - though he did feel a slight tinge of regret of having forced his fairy friend there. He isn't really affected by the thorns when wearing his suit of armor, but that doesn't mean that everyone else feels the same... Regardless, while covering himself up with his cloak, the Tuffle dropped that thought and instead focused on the dropships, flying towards the peak of Mount Symbar in the distance. There, surrounded by a man-made crater, protruding from the side of the mountain, the entrance to an abandoned Tuffle bunker could be seen. It was not the Tuffle hero's first intention to head there and investigate. He did hear a very brief mention by an elder in a village almost twenty miles away that he heard a man once tell a story of a mysterious metal structure located deep in the Heights, and apparently something about Valentus' Tuffle aura made the elder believe that he may have something to do with it. However, it was only arriving here, witnessing the transformation of nature which signed to something operating here in the past, seeing the dropships fly over a few minutes ago, and rushing to find cover while suppressing himself in order to avoid being noticed, that he finally realized that something really big was hidden underneath the montain. Something, which involved his fellow species. " So... do you know who these people are?" Paizu continued, her hands wrapped around her eyes as if they were binoculars, trying to look at the distant dropships through the snowstorm. " Huh, they stopped. I don't think that's the Demon Clan... Maybe the World Government, trying to maneuver around them or somethin'?" Valentus remained silent for a few seconds. It was hard to discern any significant features from such a distance, and in the midst of a blizzard - but he was pretty sure he saw one of those ships before, and from much, much closer than this. " No, it's neither. It is worse, and it means we have to move quick." " ...It's your people, isn't it?" Valentus's blue cloak flapped in the freezing wind, even if he held onto it with his hands to try to cover himself up, and the Tuffle began walking forward. " Possibly, yes." " So if we have to move quick, that means we have to move away quick, right?" As they travelled across the plateau, approaching the peak of Mount Symbar, Valentus remembered seeing a glimpse of something... metallic, hiding between a series of pine trees. The dropships floating above the crater in the distance meant that even trying to approach the bunker from the front would be effectively suicide. It was best to capitulate it, and find an alternate entrance. Paizu repeated her question, with more concern. " So if we have to move quick, that means we have to move away quick, right?" Pushing past several more thorny bushes, Valentus found exactly what he was looking for - a metallic installation which looked somewhat like a massive rusty bottle cap with several holes punctured through, which were letting out puffs of slightly warmer air. A large underground complex needs more than just an entrance - it needs a way to filter in new air from the surface so its inhabitants do not choke to death, and so, vents like these were scattered here and there across the surrounding kilometer-wide area. Understandably, they were hidden from view as well as possible, so they were impossible to see not just from a kilometer above, but by people passing by as well. " ...Of course." the fairy mumbled under her breath, sighing - Valentus, meanwhile, ripped the cover of the vent open, revealing a long and deep metallic shaft which led to the underground bunker, then turned to his peer and finally spoke again: " Whatever ISLET is gunning after in this facility, whether it's a superweapon or a lost test subject, I'd rather not let them have it." (774 words, total 774) The Charentis Project Emargine "Azure" Cerola
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Post by The Charentis Project on Jul 11, 2021 10:25:15 GMT -8
A sprawling laboratory, once the edge of Tuffle technology reduced to a pile of metal and struggling automated systems and generators barely holding together. Lodged into the mountain at a diagonal, the only real clear viewpoint of the structure was from below where the landslide occurred looking up from below. The effects of time had caused the weight of the land on top of the facility to bend the entire secure metal structure to a noticeable albeit minor degree. Thankfully, the walking surface of the laboratory was only at a slightly awkward ten degree rotation from being completely flat, making movement a little trickier but manageable by all means. The facility itself was pitch black, power diverted long ago by autonomous systems in order to prioritize only the most fundamental functions. Those functions included security, and cloning procedures- anything else was optional, even the power that would otherwise allow the automated doors to slide open and shut. There would be a lot of cutting to reach the depths of the facility- or brute force if either party had the means. What the facility might hold was data helpful for recovering lost knowledge, but what certainly would be posing a threat was a multitude of different forces. The most obvious of which were the automated turrets, which if studied long enough were completely without power- however the much less energy intensive direct motion sensors were constantly on with their lasers, ready to divert power to activate firepower if tripped. Furthermore, emergency protocols had put into motion the deployment of a pre-authorized facility trap schematic, something would ISLET potentially had access to... Or not. Just about every room in the facility had something, and given the foreseen circumstance of power issues in a crisis situation they were mostly kinetic in nature. False floors, doors that blended with the walls around them, and an acidic kind of trap that'd been sitting for so long they were rendered mute as the ground around them was the only proof they ever existed- a rough and eroded mess of metal that'd been eaten away by the acid. What might surpass expectations however, were the threats produced by negligence towards The Charentis Project for a few hundred years. The generations that'd gone unaccounted for by data-logging neither lived nor died for the most part, their torment and extended exposure to bio-stimulant fluids within vats created monsters and abominations. The most intact of them vaguely resembled Charentis, but the majority of them were amalgam's that had more in common with oozes than any humanoid creature. Their sentient consciousness already transferred to the newest clone, all that was left was the primordial chaos of savage nothingness. They were hostile, but only for the purpose of sustaining themselves, ravenous given their appetites. And the nuances didn't really make it much brighter of a situation. After all, the biological material in the facility was low, all that these rampant mutants had were each other up until now. Their genes completely thrown into primordial chaos after having developed long passed their expiry dates, the facility was an absolute mess of the unsightly kind. Only the most recent of the 'creatures' that'd burst out of it's vat from overgrowth and had its consciousness rerouted almost entirely resembled Charentis- perhaps not the first impression the real one would be hoping for. The beast was nearing fifteen feet tall, and was unable to walk. The horrors of all kinds awaited, but there was a purpose. That ever so faint signal deep in the facility was no longer quite as faint. The pings were incredibly clear and frequent at such a proximity- if of course, the General or Val had a means to receive those signals. Error. No signal detected. Error. No signal detected. Pinging... Pinging... Attempting to connect... (5,137,331) Error. No signal detected.
Error. No signal detected.
644 / 644
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Post by Emargine "Azure" Cerola on Jul 13, 2021 7:52:42 GMT -8
Mount Symbar, Elev: 32,000m Azure's Dragoons Alpha Company, First Platoon, Callsign "Fenrir" Operation: Snipe HuntTwo squads, eighteen Dragoons, in their enhanced power armour, slid down the set of cables, down onto top of the laboratory's shell. A ten degree angle made it somewhat awkward to move, but this was not the worst this veteran fighting force had dealt with before. Be it uphill battles up steep slopes against demons and monsters, or climbing a mountain in the middle of a blizzard - just like right now - they've seen their share of this sort of problem. Their cargo unloaded, the dropships would begin a patrol of the local airspace. One would orbit the facility to provide signal fidelity to the ground force. The other would establish a larger patrol perimeter, in case something else got through this blizzard. This procedure was nothing new, although the circumstances, namely the exploration of a lost TSE facility, certainly were. A second wave carrying the second half of Alpha First was to arrive in a few minutes to form a perimeter on the ground. Based on the timing, they should arrive just before the first half would be ready to perform a full breach, if that were necessary. Hopefully, with the equipment they had on hand, a warhead wouldn't be necessary. Fenrir 1-4 pulled a capsule from its safe storage and released a large machine, which quickly sprung to life, erecting a wall of energy that stretched the entire width of the visible shell, and a dozen metres high. The problem of avalanches was very real, especially if they attempted to use high powered explosives to crack the shell. Or, you know, in case the snow the blizzard was bringing in got heavy enough to slide off by itself. But this took care of that problem. "E-Blanket is functional, Boss," he reported. "We can start the sweep."<<2-1, Fenrir Actual. Begin signal sweep.>>Fenrir 2, confident with the knowledge that the snow wasn't going to bury them any time soon, begun to trace the signal. The squad scouring the surface for any spots where an increase in signal strength might indicate less plating than the walls, and thus a potential entrance. 2-5 stopped in front of a particularly intrusive mound of ice, where the signal abruptly spiked. Ice wasn't exactly super solid, being what it was. But with enough of it, like that glacier that buried the airship, signals would be problematic. This much? Not too bad at all. <<Fenrir Actual, 2-5. Boss, I think I found something!>>Cerola called the rest of the troops over, passing her scouter over the ice mound. "Well, what have we got here..." She closed her eyes and focused. Pictured the image of the ice mound in her mind. She'd had many years to practise. This was nothing. She opened her eyes again, glaring at the offending object. The snow blasted away as if an invisible hand had shoveled it all off at once, revealing a frozen vent shaft protruding from the shell. Torn open from the impact, and rendered brittle by the unforgiving weather. The general smirked. <<2-1. Make us an opening.>>Fenrir 2 collectively made their intentions known, cracking their knuckles or bumping their fists together like boxing gloves. Two volunteers approached the vent and grabbed the rusted, broken metal. Powered gauntlets dug into the old metal with ease, securing their grips. They tore the shaft open and pulled it apart in either direction. The resulting hole was large, wide enough even for their powered frames could comfortably fit through. Cerola stared down into the darkness before cracking a glowstick and tossing it in. This would help tell how far down it went. A new voice called out to her frequency. <<Fenrir Actual, Fenrir 3-1. How copy?>><<3-1, Fenrir Actual. Solid copy. What's your status?>><<We've just landed at the foot of the mountain and are establishing a perimeter.>> A third dropship roared overhead, and another group began to rope down. <<Fenrir 4 should be on top of you by now.>><<That's affirmative, 3-1. Fenrir 4 is right here. Carry on. We're making entry.>><<Copy that, Fenrir Actual. 3-1 out.>>"Alright, let's move it, people! Scouters up! Whatever that signal is, we can't let anyone else find it!" In short order, Fenrir 1 secured cables to the shell, and with Cerola at the lead, made their way down into the darkness of the facility... [722/1505] Valentus The Charentis Project
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Post by Valentus on Jul 14, 2021 1:03:51 GMT -8
" Hey, Paizu?" Valentus called out to his peer, his voice hushed somewhat, as he fell down the vent shaft with the fairly flying down by her side. To make sure he doesn't splatter onto the floor on the other side - which probably wouldn't be lethal for him at this point, but it would cause a lot of unwanted noise at a time when he needed to be as silent as possible - the Tuffle used his feet to slide onto one of the walls of the shaft and use the drag to slow himself down somewhat. " Yeah?" " I'm going to want you to stay silent for this entire mission. Whispering at most." The vent shaft eventually reached its conclusion, a ventilation grill filtering just a little bit of vision of the room below through its tiny, narrow gaps, and allowing the Tuffle to stand. Or, rather, kneel, and inspect what was going on below before he pulled the piece of metal apart and jumped in. The room below was, understandably, pitch dark - if this fortress is as old as Valentus assumed it is, then there was no chance that it had enough power remaining to keep the lights up. Still, enough light filtered from above to tell the Tuffle swordsman that there was a floor he could stand on. Paizu grunted a little bit and got her wings to glow in a very faint blue, enough to serve as a flashlight without immediately alerting everyone. The facility below was silent, as well - but not completely. Every once in a while, a drop of water from a leak somewhere below would fall, helping create the eerie atmosphere. Rarely, very rarely, a very, very faint thud, or maybe a rumble, would reach his ears from far deeper below. Whether it was just one of the machines still operating in the bunker, or something more... living, he hopefully would not have to find out. Satisfied with the initial observation, Valentus drew his sword and stuck it into the microscopic gap between the vent shaft and the grill, pushing forward with superhuman force, deepening the gap and twisting, until the decrepit metal construction finally snapped and let the Tuffle fall to the floor - there, he immediately ducked and went behind the nearest cover he could perceive. It turned out to be a table bolted to the floor, and the room he ended up in a cafeteria. Or rather, what used to be one. Perhaps, a long time ago, the staff of the bunker and their clones would use this as a place to receive their daily meal - but now, it was degraded, the tables and chairs were scattered across the room and decrepit, and there was an unbelievably powerful stench across the wide room - food reserves there were left behind for many, many years. Paizu could not even enter the room without covering her mouth and gasping from the nausea, but her Tuffle peer held on, though equally disgusted. So then. Now that it became clear that he was not in immediate danger, what was the situation? He was down here to go after... whatever the Azure's Dragoons were after, either some lost Tuffle technology or a clone which needed to be secured before it decays inside its abandoned pod. This isn't a mission you can just blindly rush in and wave your sword at until you achieve victory. Tuffle bunkers and laboratories were sprawling with traps and defense systems, all of which had an operating life much, much longer than a mere few hundred years. Chances are it may not be completely uninhabited, either, he could not possibly dismiss this possibility. Before he can plan for this quest... what can he do to stack up against the military arm of the TSE? Well, for one, he was (mostly) alone. A disadvantage at first, he may have figured, but not as overwhelming of one as he may have initially assumed. Valentus assumed that the dropships will send several armored goons, perhaps also their commander, to investigate - and if anyone still lived inside this bunker, whether alive or... not so alive, then they would see a much greater threat in such a party, armed to their teeth, than a single young man armed with nothing but a sword. Traps are also much easier to bypass for one person than a squad, since the failure of one means the failure of every member at once. Sure, he cannot throw nearly as much firepower at the problem, but Valentus figured that ideally he would not need to fight, anyway. Ideally, he will find whatever is hidden inside of the laboratory, take it, and leave before anyone realizes it. Second of all... he had Paizu. A tiny fairy was a boon in an investigative mission such as this one, in spite of her fragility. Traps were rarely designed to keep such a tiny person in mind, and if she stays aware at all times, she will be able to scout ahead, avoid traps and report them back to him. Tiny nooks and crannies will be no problem for her, too. If he plays smart... and doesn't get ridiculously unlucky, he could run circles around ISLET itself today and leave them for fools. " Alright, let's go." (879 words, total 1653) Emargine "Azure" Cerola The Charentis Project
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Post by Emargine "Azure" Cerola on Jul 14, 2021 4:17:34 GMT -8
"So if it's a clone farm, then two zeni says we'll run into rabid clones." Fenrir 1-4 pointed out as he slid down the cable in the dark if oddly spacious shaft. Three others were already below him. "And if it's a light factory, it could be anything from a walker to an IFV." 1-7 considered the possibilities as she looked up past 1-8 and 1-9. Fenrir 2 would soon announce that they were coming down as well. Fenrir 3 and 4 were already setting up perimeters above and below the mountain, while Fenrir 5 was setting up a simple Combat Outpost around the vent. Basic fortifications good enough to house a small infirmary, mess area, landing pad, and comm station to keep in touch with Caeruleus. Given their supplies, they could easily wait a week out here without a logistical chain. But if the retrieval went well, they'd hopefully be done by the time the blizzard ended. With the blizzard still going strong, even the battle-hardened veterans of Alpha First needed a break every now and then. "We'll scout the immediate area and see if 5-A can use it to establish a fallback point," Cerola noted as she kept her eyes on the approaching green light of the fallen glowstick. The shaft was deep, and it had fallen onto a corner, rather than a grill. Well, that was a good sign. At least they weren't going have to deal with climbing up the ceiling. "Keep an eye out. We don't want to just run blindly into the defences."Because if there was anything the TSE was good at, it was making their facilities hell to break into. The general slowed down her descent until she hit the floor with a dull, suppressed thud. Her scouter beeped louder as the signal's strength grew. At the flip of a tiny switch on the side of her helmet, pitch blackness turned into a gradient of dark blues. Total darkness demanded a switch to thermal vision. And with a maximum thermal sensitivity of 1 milliKelvins, it could easily tell things apart even in weather as cold as this. Since this was a cold mountain in the middle of the northern lands, there was a high chance that the power had long been diverted to the security system. Even with the thick insulation of the walls, entropy reigned supreme. This same law that governed the rate at which a cup of coffee cooled down, also meant that given enough time, even a large facility with proper room temperature would eventually cool down. Thermal vision relied on detecting heat radiation, and believe it or not, even when things were literally freezing, that radiation still existed. One just needed a sensitive enough camera to tell these objects apart. Cerola turned a knob near that switch, adjusting the sensitivity of her camera. By default, it was set to something more lenient, like 300 milliKelvins. But places this cold demanded more. With each stroke passed, the murky dark blue gradient changed, with whites first emerging to denote the highest temperatures, then yellows, then reds... The image of the grill in front of her and the room outside came into focus. She moved forward just as 1-2 arrived, and grabbed the industrial-scale vent grill and carefully ripped it open. She stepped into the room. It was the infirmary, and a rather sizeable one. At this scale and with her estimates of the facility's size, there was now a higher chance that it was a clone farm. Although with all the gurneys, cabinets, autodocs, and medical tools scattered across the room, in pieces for perhaps nearly 800 years, all it served as now was extra space. Carefully, she scanned the room for any potential threats. If this was a clone farm, then there should have been security systems in place to ensure that any clones that went rabid were quickly taken down. There. A few feet before the door. Half a dozen infrared beams crossed the space before door in a grill pattern. The floor tile and ceiling panel just in front of the door would be the ideal place to put a collapsible barricade and turret, respectively. Fenrir-1 made its way into the room after its commander. <<Fenrir 2. Entry point is the infirmary. Clone Farm-scale from the look of it. Set up a fallback point and see if any of the medication can be salvaged. Mind the door, we have live beams. 1-4. See if you can find an access port. I want this tripwire shut down and copies of the facility floorplans and trap schematics downloaded. The last thing we need is to get caught in our own security measures while fighting rabid clones and mutants. The rest of you secure the room and prepare to cut into the hall once the beams are disarmed.>>Acknowledgements reported across the frequency as Cerola keyed a command into her scouter to transmit some freshly generated security credentials over to 1-4. Maybe if they reached the security room, they could plug in a mini-generator to power up the overrides and regain control of the defences. At least then, they would be able to slaughter any rabid clones or mutants with a bit less risk. But that was optional. Her primary concern was to get her hands on the source of that signal. And the sooner they got there the better... Her scouter picked up a cluster of power levels approaching at a perpendicular angle to the door. At least the hallway seemed intact then. There were five, moving at a mixture of speeds. Those that got close to each other fluctuated in power. The rabids probably fighting each other. They'd better move fast, then... [954/2458] Valentus The Charentis Project
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Post by Valentus on Jul 15, 2021 12:35:08 GMT -8
A quick observation of the cafeteria revealed that the room was more or less secure. Thankfully, the Tuffles who had once run the bunker did not get the idea of setting traps in the place where they are supposed to eat. It was just... completely saturated with an ungodly stench, and if he didn't leave quick, then he might forever stink with rotten meat and apples. There were three exits out of the cafeteria, and all of them were tightly closed, dual steel doors closed shut in each one. As expected, the critical energy supply of the facilities meant that all available power was diverted solely to critical functions. Presumably, this includes security systems, and whatever is being held at the deepest depths of the bunker. Doors, lights, refrigerators, were all out. Valentus chose the exit which led out of the wider side of the cafeteria, expecting it to have been the main entrance when originally designed hundreds of years ago. Though the door was closed shut, a long, long time of trickling water, and sometimes just a little bit of acid, eroded parts of the wall right to the left of it, giving just enough of a gap for Paizu to crawl through and peek out the other side. After confirming that there was no immediate threat to face, the fairy crawled back out - though clearly disgusted by the metallic mush and rush she had to force her way through, which, coupled with the pervasive stench, left her on the verge of vomiting. After seeing a tiny thumbs-up, Valentus nodded and stopped in front of the door. First, he pulled out his sword, forcing it into the contact area. Push to the one side, push to the other - not so strong that the blade would bend or snap, but just enough to give a little bit of room where he could push his fingers into. There, with superhuman force, he began pulling them apart, until the doors finally gave in and slid open. A wide corridor followed. It was fairly plain in comparison to the comparatively messy cafeteria, which gave Valentus the impression that it was intended as the main hallway leading to the dining area, expected to let a lot of people pass through. Perfect for him, though taking such a straightforward path meant that- " Psst!" A few careless steps and Paizu already had to stop him. There were laser beams scattered everywhere across the corridor. Of course. A main path also meant that the Tuffles fortified it to all hell in case a large enemy force tried to storm through. Having ceased his movement and begun looking around, Valentus could immediately register protruding turret barrels, stationary and immobile, yet ready to activate at a moment's notice. The lasers themselves were harmless, but their intent was being direct motion sensors - passing through them would block the bounce of light from one sensor to another and alarm both that something was passing by. And if something was passing by, that means it must be fried. Most of the lasers were just high enough that they would not pick up harmless targets such as rats or dust, and were at about a knee's height. Unlike the lasers before doorways, these did not form a grid pattern and generally only had one sensor per turret. These were intended to face not secretive infiltrators, after all, but rather an open assault, which would trip over even this basic pattern. For Paizu, it was a piece of cake to fly through, whereas Valentus needed to resort to his reflexes and some complex gymnastics to steer clear of every sensor. The corridor soon began descending downwards, taking a set of stairs towards a lower level, where they were once again blocked by a closed steel door. Valentus already began getting ready to split it open, just like the door prior, only, as he started pushing his fingers into the contact point, to stop and listen. Thud. Thud. Thud. He glanced to Paizu. Paizu was grimacing, and pointed behind them, offering to back away. Something indeed was coming, and coming their way. Thud. Thud. Thud. A drop of sweat formed on Valentus' forehead as he waited. The steps reached the door on the other side. Then stopped. Crack. Crash. It flew open with one powerful swing. Wh-what is that thing?!(725 words, total 2378)
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Post by Emargine "Azure" Cerola on Jul 16, 2021 7:09:47 GMT -8
Fenrir 1-4 immediately got to work and started to examine the security checkpoint's keypad for an insertion port. This was made centuries ago, but given the catastrophe that stranded his ancestors on this planet, it was no surprise that the newly built infrastructure held extensive backward compatibility toward hardware dating as far back as the war-era colonies. This room looked eerily familiar, only a few aesthetic differences and the ravages of age to separate it from the infirmary of the bunker he grew up in. The only major difference was this security checkpoint here with its sensor beam emitters. Presumably, if he'd ever gotten the chance to visit a clone farm, its infirmary would look the same. Likely to prevent the escape of any clones that suddenly became rabid. He still found it rather hard to wrap his head around. To have fought, and in many cases even died, during the War for Planet Plant, with your only assurance being that you would awaken in a new body and new home sometime in the future. They explained the Master Index as making the use of machines called NeuroJumpers, which would instantly transmit your consciousness to the nearest copy of the Index upon your death. How did you know that it really was you though, rather than a copy of your consciousness being made and then transmitted? Was there any guarantee that it was a cut-paste rather than a copy-paste? These were questions he didn't really enjoy thinking about. But they always bothered him since his time in basic education. And it didn't help that he currently worked directly for one such person. Perhaps the General would have some deeper insight about this, if ever they got the time to speak about it. Finding a thin sliver of a card slot, 1-4 took out a blank access card from the veritable deck he carried around, and imprinted the General's transmitted security credentials onto it. With this, disarming the beams was all he could do for now. He would have to open up the keypad and manually connect a more specialised port to download the floorplans and trap schematics. But at least, they wouldn't have to worry about tripping the alarms. The Dragoon technician whipped out an electronics dust blower next, clearing out the card slot. A small cloud of dust, accumulated over the centuries, blasted out of the narrow space, which he cleared out with another burst from the blower. He swiped the card through, and the red light on the keypad switched to green. At the same time, the half dozen IR beams blocking the door disappeared. This wasn't surprising, but welcome nonetheless. The General was one of the thousand chosen to survive physically through the CONTINENT project. Clearly, she had access to some high-security things, even though her specialty was not in the field of science. Boy... clearing out that airship would've been a lot easier if they didn't have to pretend it was an alien ship. But, such was life. And now, the hard work had to continue, even if all they really had to do was stick this same card into a few security slots and make their way to the bridge. But nope... All that said, the door remained unresponsive. Understandable. "Beams are down, Boss. I'll get to work on downloading the tactical data next." 1-4 opened his toolkit and procured some items that would open up the keypad without damaging it, and then allow him to tap into the network. Noises shuffled outside, as the squad's scouters continued to pick up the rabid clones or mutants or whatever they were outside. The power levels were worryingly high, far above the average 5 of an unaugmented Tuffle. More likely than not, then, these were mutants of some kind. Maybe augmented clones gone horribly wrong... It would've been simple to just blast the doors open and gun them down. They had that kind of firepower. But they wanted to use this room as a fallback point. It had to be fortified. Which was why Fenrir 2 was now busy cleaning up the trash and converting the furniture into makeshift fortifications. For example stacking empty steel medical cabinets facedown on top of each other just past the checkpoint. That would be the first line. Fenrir 5-A, the first Fireteam of that particular squad, had already slid down and brought a number of portable fortifications with them to further strengthen the position within the room, focusing on protecting the vent they used as an entry point. Titanium barricades, mainly, and some self-powered rotary plasma turrets. This was the second line. The rest of Fenrir 5 was already replacing the cable with a cable ladder, connected to their dropship's winch in case things went really bad. 1-4 plugged a microtablet into the makeshift port he'd clipped to the now-bare fiberoptic wiring, navigating the mostly-offline network to get to the security room. In a couple of minutes, he got what he came for, and transmitted the floorplans and trap schematics. <<Transmitting the plans through to the scouternet, Boss.>><<Good work, 1-4.>> Every Dragoon present wearing a scouter heard a notification ping. Sure enough, there they were, the floor and trap plans. Now they had to make sense of this... The infirmary was inside the secure containment sector of the bunker, just past the primary security checkpoint, separating it from the general sector, which included, among other things, the cafeteria and lounge. Their primary goal was... wherever this signal was coming from. If they could just trace it to its source, this would be a lot easier. Tentatively, then, the current objective was the security room, where a mini-reactor plugged into the grid should be enough to give them control over security itself. Fenrir 2 would handle that, while Fenrir 1 would prioritise trying to find the signal source. General Cerola surveyed the room again. It was secure, and fortified, and the mutants were starting to move further down the hall, done with their little scuffle. It was time. <<Fenrir 1, on me. We're going to find the source of this signal, and obliterate any abomination that gets in our way. Fenrir 2, make your way to the security room and fortify it. We'll want to have the security systems under our control. Fenrir 5-A, keep this room locked down. Nothing gets in or out unless I say so. 1-4, 1-5. Get the torches ready. We're making a hole.>>A series of ayes resounded throughout the frequency as the Dragoons prepared to work. 1-4 and 1-5 retrieved their plasma torches and began to cut through the door starting at the top. The sound, of course, was bound to attract those mutants, and it didn't take long before the scouters picked up that same group again, this time headed back. <<Eyes open, everyone. Here they come.>>Attracted to the sound and light, the mutants slammed into the door, denting it from above. It didn't look so bad at first. Then the next one hit. Again. Again. Each one a loud thud that sounded like a mixture of wet flesh, bone, and even metal. What was this...? <<Pull back you two! Everyone assume defensive positions! Prepare for the breach!>>Setting the cutters aside, 1-4 and 1-5 made their way behind the makeshift cabinet barricade and, along with the rest of the Dragoons, drew their weapons. Rotary plasma cannons, magnetic assault rifles, plasma flamers, various other War-era armaments that were issued for such things as raiding bunkers if such an opportunity arose. This wasn't quite the latest gear you would find in ISLET's arsenal, but it was still above the standards of the top Earth militaries despite their age. Which was why they also came with self-destruct mechanisms linked to deadman switches triggered by the vital signs of their owner. If they died, the weapon would destroy itself in a super-heated flash to prevent capture. All anyone would find was ash. One last crash, and the door fell inward, slamming into the floor with a metallic clang. <<Fire at will!>>The Dragoons didn't even wait for the dust to settle. Bright green shards of plasma rained upon the black space on the other side of the doorframe. Three-point bursts of magnetic spikes too fast for the normal human eye to see pierced the darkness. Bright red laser beams seared the shadows on the other side. Whatever these mutants looked like, nobody cared. What was important was that they should stop moving before anyone would dare to take a look at them. Their thermal visors did the smart work of recognising their own weapons, and so filtering the heat energy to not show so blindingly to their eyes. Through it all, they kept an eye on their scouter readings, as the power levels slowly but consistently dropped. They couldn't see them, but they were hurting them. And when the last reading hit zero, the General held up her hand. <<Cease fire!>>The Dragoons immediately stopped. <<1-6, inspection!>>1-6 stepped out from behind his barricade and investigated the corpses. Though mostly shredded, burnt, and melted in various places, they still held up their shapes rather well... He did have this to say though. <<Definitely mutants, Boss. Crawling masses of guts and bones, or overgrown stacks of muscle. I don't think I've seen anything this bad before...>><<Then we've got an idea of what we're up against. Arms at the ready, keep an eye out for traps on the floorplans. Dragoons, you have your orders! Let's move out!>>Acknowledgements again went over the frequency, as two squads marched out of the infirmary, crushing the corpses beneath their titanium boots. They turned left and carefully proceeded down the hall, making sure to swipe the General's credentials through any security keypad they could find. And for those they couldn't find anything for? Well... they'd have to figure out a way to not trip them. [1654/4112] Valentus The Charentis Project
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Post by Valentus on Jul 17, 2021 8:36:56 GMT -8
The creature which burst through the door and stormed straight at Valentus was nothing like the monsters he could find walking the surface of Earth. A ten foot tall contraption of an ooze of biological matter barely holding itself in the shape of a person, it clearly had no sentience left, roaring and moving with pure instinct and hunger. As soon as it saw the red haired Tuffle standing in front of it, it lashed out, swinging its massive arm forward. Valentus reacted with full professional discipline - he pulled up the sword attached to his belt, with scabbard and all, and pulled it. One hand held onto the grip, the other onto the scabbard, while the half-drawn blade took the punch head on, enduring it and pushing the creature back. It retreated one step, then another, recollecting itself and getting ready to strike again. Valentus, meanwhile, fully pulled out his sword and started slowly pacing around the creature, watching its movements, while Paizu hid in the corner, keeping up her natural light and crossing her fingers as hard as she could. While waiting for the clash to start anew, Valentus rapidly went through the thoughts in her mind, looking through any options on what this creature might be. If it was an Earthling monster, then it's certainly nothing he has ever seen before, though he certainly could not discount Earth from having created something this repulsive. Even in such a short time living on its surface, he has experienced an enormous variety of both sapient and non-sapient beings who call it home. If this creature is really so mindless, however... then how could it possibly have infiltrated the compound? Its defenses were not down, he had to find a way to cross them. If it came from the outside, then it would have been pulverized by, say, the defense systems he has sneaked past moments ago. The creature lunged again, its sludge-like arms facing off against the blades of Valentus' sword, before the Tuffle dodge-rolled past it. With such a slimy texture, a sword was fairly ineffective against it, especially with a risk of it getting stuck somewhere in the creature's biomass. A good look into its visage laid a hint to its true nature. The ooze contraption was not just ooze - it showed signs of being degenerated flesh, with bits and pieces here and there which survived better than others. While one eye had decayed over the years, an another one was still mostly intact, and stared at Valentus with a human-like blue pupil. There were strands of golden hair running down its head, too, even though the top of the head has gone bald by now. This was familiar. Valentus has actually seen something similar before. When his cloned self grew enough to fully rejoin secretive Tuffle society, he was briefly shown that this was the third, but the first successful attempt to clone him. Previous attempts... did not go as well. Is this... a cloning facility, then?Abandoned for generations, yet still operating thanks to successful automation and feeding off a small stream of resources its machinery gathers. Continuing to clone the genetic code given to it, even though the clones never release and thus mutate into monsters... It would also explain why Azure's Dragoons were here as well. Presumably, the TSE needs the genetic code stored in this facility to bring it back to its aegis. Perhaps even surviving intact clones, too... The mutant attacked again - and this time, having gone fully around the mutant, Valentus crafted a very quick response plan. The Tuffle ducked under one of the mutant's fists and pierced his sword straight into its abdomen - there, underneath the creature's nose, he suddenly pushed, back towards the laser based motion sensors which he just sneaked past. On the edge of the metaphorical minefield, the Tuffle suddenly placed his foot on the contact point and kicked it forward while pulling out his sword. The mutant did, in fact, trigger the sensors, and they immediately went into action. Valentus ran, turning away from the rather gruesome sight where an array of activated laser cannons and miniguns pulverized the creature into a pool of flesh and bones. Thankfully, the Tuffle, running as fast as he could and ducking through the door which the mutant opened with a slam a few minutes ago, was not registered as a secondary target - though it was close, to a point where one of the laser cannons even turned to his direction. There, joined by Paizu, Valentus took very brief respite. The door led to a fairly spacious waiting room, with a few tossed chairs, decrepit couches and long dead potted plants, leading to corridors in all four directions - a crossroad of sorts, connecting most of the floor into one central hub. Aside for the entrance he came from, one more entrance was open, right in front of him - it was recently broken, which led the Tuffle to assume that the same mutant which attacked him was the one who stormed through that door. The other two doors were locked, although the one to the left was partially corroded, presumably due to unwanted exposure to chemicals sometime during its lifespan. The duo scattered to their tasks, without the need of spoken orders. Paizu floated up to the corroded door and used the eroded gaps in between to scout ahead in that direction, while Valentus continued investigating the room for anything else of use. Some leftover ooze which trickled down from the mutant, a rug which has long since been eaten away by bugs, something which may have once been a sandwich, lying on the floor, but eaten away and spoiled so thoroughly that it was merely a piece of darkened ooze by now... A-ha!One of the floor tiles behind a couch was actually a trapdoor - with rusted, unstable stairs leading down below. Presumably, when designed by the original architects, this was an emergency exit to get from one floor to the next, if the stairs and corridors were blocked somehow - it will serve them adequately. " Psst!" Paizu's whisper reached him once again - the pixie was pointing through the corroded gaps in the door she was investigating. There was an entire mob of mutants similar to the one he had dispatched of before, roaming in the corridor behind the door - they appeared passive, unable to find a route to anything they can feed on, besides each other. However, they were starting to get agitated, growling and starting to move - which both Valentus and Paizu soon learned the reason for. Gunshots. Plasma cannons. Explosions, even. All of them rather dull, in the far off distance... to the direction of the door which the mutant had stormed through to enter the waiting room. Valentus had considered going that way... but now, he decided against it. That path led straight to Azure's Dragoons - and they did not hesitate to throw all the firepower they had to the problem, it seems. However, Valentus got an idea. He placed his finger on his lips to motion to Paizu to stay completely silent, then moved a few of the couches to block the path which he came from. Then... This part was going to need very quick reflexes. The Tuffle pointed to the trapdoor to get Paizu to fly down there in advance, then, with his blade and hands, suddenly snapped open the door leading to the mutant horde. One after another, the failed cloning experiments turned in Valentus' direction - there were laser sensors in front of them, ready to fire at them, but none of them cared and the miniguns stationed in the corridor was not going to stop them. The Tuffle briefly smiled, then leapt back, diving down the rusty ladder in the trapdoor as fast as he could. The mutants, several of them in total, could not even look down to the exit in the corner with their body structure so broken, and were thus diverted towards the only direction they could find - the corridor which would led them directly towards the Dragoons, several corridors away. (1352 words, total 3730)
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Post by Emargine "Azure" Cerola on Jul 18, 2021 9:30:22 GMT -8
Fenrir 2-1 led his squad in the opposite direction as the Boss. Fenrir 1's goal was to follow the signal through their scouters. Fenrir 2's was to secure the security room and restore power to the command systems so they could take control of the security system. With all these mutants running around, there was no question that they needed all these guns and traps aiming at the enemy. Not them. The floor plans were a truly wonderful discovery. Combined with the Boss' credentials as a CONTINENT general - a full general! - the traps were as easy to disarm as swiping a card through a security console's reader. Though they weren't the easiest to find, the ones that could be found were easily disarmed, preserved until they sent the command from the safety of the security room. As they made their way down the halls, they occasionally encountered absolutely rotten mutant remains, barely recognisable. Since these remains usually accompanied running laser tripwires, it stood to reason that they were unfortunate enough to trip the nearby security systems. An appropriate warning for anyone lurking these halls. For such things, they were careful not to disturb the lasers as they searched for a security console to swipe the Boss' card. If they found it, then the trap was as good as theirs. If there was none, however, they would have to take a detour. As it turned out, reaching the security room was going to be a challenge even with these guides. The roaming mutants certainly didn’t help. While most of them were relatively easy pickings, they had to choose their battles carefully. Even their advanced arsenal had limited ammunition, after all. What really slowed them down, however, was how they had to use plasma torches to cut through every single door. And there were a lot of doors. The procedures were dangerous. The sound and light was greatly attractive to these mutants, far more than a bunch of titanium boots running around. So two troopers would be cutting, while the rest stood guard. Whenever they could, they would make use of the various bits of garbage strewn about the hallways as auditory bait. Throw a fractured concrete block in the direction of a tripwired corridor, watch and laugh with each other when a pack of mutants got shredded by security. Probably the best part about these creatures was how dumb they were. There seemed to be nothing left but hunger… Although that was no excuse to slack off. There might have been smarter ones roaming about… You could never tell with clone farms. And with every step they took, the scouter networked map generated using the floorplans would update in real time. It was slower going than hoped, but at least the security room was only a matter of time… General Cerola, meanwhile, helmed Fenrir 1 in the search for the source of the signal. Not hard with their scouters. It was merely a matter of finding out where the signal was strongest. And based on the directions on the floor plan, it might very well be leading to the most secure part of the facility. The cloning chamber itself. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on. After the incident that destroyed Planet Aspic, this facility was sent through the fold and crashed into this mountain. Throughout these centuries, it continued to function, cloning and cloning… All these clones continuously experienced genetic meltdowns and other forms of degradation resulting from negligence. Not that anyone could be blamed for that negligence. Everyone was dead. Well… oddly enough, the only corpses they found were of mutants. Perhaps the scientist corpses were already eaten long ago and were repeatedly recycled since. Fenrir 1 had turned left, headed deeper into the heart of the clone farm. Understandably, things would be more difficult here. More mutants to fight, more traps to disarm… and their ultimate safety from the traps lay in the hands of Fenrir 2, who had to get to the security room. But that was fine. Fenrir 1 was the bluest of the blue. The most elite of Cerola’s forces here on Earth. She had hand picked them herself from various bunker communities in the Southern Islands, personally testing their mettle before setting off for the mission to infiltrate the Golden Gate Army. They had been through thick and thin together, survived the harsh wastes of the demon-infested Southern Lands. And now, here they were again, fighting some more up North. <<Fenrir Actual, Fenir 2. We’ve just passed Corridor C3. New ETA to the security room: 15 minutes. These detours have been delaying us pretty bad, and the doors are everywhere.. Whoever designed this facility really didn’t want any mutants to get out, huh?>><<Update acknowledged, Fenrir 2. Carry on.We’re still making our way to the signal source. Looks like it’s the main cloning chamber a few stories down from the entry point. Stairs are buried in rubble, so we might just have to make our own way down. Just be sure that by the time we get there, you have security under control.>><<Copy that, Boss. We’ll have security up soon.>>Cerola had just made another turn down another corridor, when her scouter pinged. Multiple signatures headed this way. Talk about timing... <<Muties incoming! I count seven!>>She hefted her magnetic assault rifle and aimed down into the darkness, and the approaching fleshforms. Once the first pseudopod became visible on her thermal visor, she gave the order. <<Open fire! Light these muties up!>>A veritable kaleidoscope of firepower rained downrange along the hall. There were seven, sure. But at this distance, it didn’t matter. The beasts closed in. Some slow, others fast. A particularly animalistic form half scuttled half slithered along the floor in a zigzag pattern, avoiding most of the fire. But Fenrir 1-3 had the solution in his Plasma Flamer, which stopped the beast dead in its tracks. Well… more like caused it to catch fire, sending it into a spinning panic as it ran in circles rather than in a zigzag. One had to note its incredible grasping ability as it ran up the wall and ceiling, back down the floor, and up the walls again… continuing this pattern until it just fell from the ceilingas a burned husk. A mutant with an abnormally large arm used it as a form of locomotion, dragging its mostly limbless body along the floor. The General took careful aim with her magnetic assault rifle and sent a 3-point burst of flechettes into its face. It dropped dead. It took less than 30 seconds to dispatch these creatures… But it certainly felt like quite a while! Cerola led her squad further down the hall, disabling any traps they could reach with the security credential card. Eventually,they happened upon a hall that ended in an intersection. The door leading there had recently been broken down, perhaps explaining where the mutants came from? With four ways to choose from, it wasn’t that easy. One door on the right appeared thoroughly corroded. More importantly, however, it looked like it was recently opened… not by the force of something mindless as a mutant. No, it was too clean… The general examined the open door, and it didn’t take long for her to find that a portion of the rust had been scraped in a rapid action. Like someone had thrust a blade into this side to pry the door open. Either there was a smart clone running around here, or… <<Fenrir 2 I want you at the security room ASAP. Take control of the cameras if you can. I don’t think we’re alone in here.>>Fenrir 2 responded in the affirmative. Now the question was if this one was organic, or mechanical… Cerola checked the map. The elevator hall was just at the end of this corridor with the corroded door. From there, they could cut a hole and remove the elevator, allowing them to use cables to navigate the facility through the elevator shaft… The general motioned for her troops to follow. As they made their way to the elevator, however, she decided to see how her abilities could further help. Fenrir 1 secured the elevator hall, while Cerola closed her eyes and focused, reaching out with her mind to see if she could touch those of others. With years of practise, it wasn’t all too hard. But with all these wild muties acting as background noise, this instance was rather annoying. There were three unidentified minds that she could pick up in the facility. Two conscious, and one in the realm of the dreams… the latter probably the clone. Her tank likely the source of the signal… It couldn’t hurt to see how her telepathy was doing. It had been a while since she last tried it, but she had a lot of practise, especially for contacting those well outside radio range. First, she reached out to one of those two conscious ones… the one with a stronger ki signature… Telepathy was fun. You could make it sound however you wanted. In this case, that of a little girl. <<You’re here? Bad idea… this place is cursed...>>She wasn’t the kind to troll, exactly, but there was no harm in having a bit of fun once in a while. And to the clone, deep in the depths where the signal originated from, she pretty much stuck to her own voice. Maybe she’d just try to see what kind of clone this was. But if the amount of security in this farm was any indication, she could make an educated guess. Cerola reached out to this sleeping mind. <<Wake up, Soldier! It’s time to evacuate!>>[1646/5758] Valentus The Charentis Project
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Post by The Charentis Project on Jul 18, 2021 12:43:47 GMT -8
Thoughts, memories, dreams.
It'd been a long time, lingering in the subconscious labyrinths of her mind. Generations had gone by, as a place she once thought fondly of was tarnished and worn down by years and years of neglect. Over the years she's dreamed of many things. She's also had nightmares, of many more. Acutely aware of the fact she was not in a good position, her mind lingered in a sense of muted panic. She wondered when the lights would go out, and when her thoughts would go dark.
That was until a light shined down. As the saying goes, it may not have been the Hero she wanted, but it was the Hero she needed. The listlessness, the ruminating over uncertainty and panicking, the... The fear, all subsided when she had something to focus her mind on. At first, she thought it was a voice- she thought it was her own, but then her dreams became more vivid and tangible. The words became clearer, and everything came into focus. Unbeknownst to the Tuffle Supersoldier, a party for whatever reason had with remote access of the highest order, chosen to provide her with a stream of information.
On the surface it was hell. Days, weeks, months of cartoons and nonsense. There were times it fell back into silence, times when her consciousness was being transferred from one now defunct Corpse into the next, but they were brief blackouts. In the grander scheme of things, she may have been a lot more unhinged if she didn't have something to hold onto.
But some of the things she saw, well... They were ominous to say the least. Most people she'd witnessed were complete strangers or animated characters, but there was one person that looked familiar. It'd been... Centuries since she'd seen that face, but she knew it well. After all, for all of her lives she was only raised once like that, going to the academy and having classmates.
Fond memories.
But what she saw was anything but. She... Saw her classmate, her colleague, her comrade... love a Saiyan. No doubt a descendant of them, in a cruel twist of fate most of the monkeys from that war had already expired, but... Still. They carried the same sins as their forefathers, they carried the same defects, the same flaws, and the same risk to the civilized and modern universe.
At first she was confused, but she had far too long to only be such. She didn't just see the moment once either, no, she saw it dozens of times since it had started broadcasting. Each time she tried to pick out a subtle detail. Was this really all her imagination? Why would she imagine something like that? She never imagined romance, let alone romance with one of them.
They were a cursed people, and as much as she pitied them due to their indecision with regards to being primitive, but the fact still remained that they needed to be eradicated for the greater good of the Universe.
It looked like her classmate might've grown to think otherwise... Did she defect? The war was painful, it was probably much easier not to think that hard and live in the moment like the apes did. But... Then her mind crossed the idea that she was being fed a feed. Television wasn't news to her, and the main identifiers were the consistency of outright animated cartoons. That moment- that entire movie as corny as it was, was presented as just that; a movie. The buildup, false climax, true climax and epilogue.
Why would she agree to play the part of a Saiyan's lover? She lived during Cerola's time, her classmate turned out to be a prodigal leader. All of those years can certainly change a person, but... Well, she'd never get much of an explanation. She was convinced that this laboratory was going to be her end. She just had decades to reflect on her memories.
She wanted to be able to make more memories.
But those moments, thoughts and ideas transpired weeks, months and years before the present. The present where a voice vividly entered the realm of her mind, drifting aimlessly through dreams.
As a stimulus arrived, the dreams went dark and she only heard the voice. <<Wake up, Soldier! It’s time to evacuate!>>On the surface, her form mashed against the surface of all sides of the vat seemed relatively motionless. With a tube providing her nutrients and oxygen, a wave of bubbles shot out as the slightest twinge of consciousness caused a heavier than normal exhale.
In her mind, she was simply standing in darkness. Around her on all sides was the void.
Was she... Supposed to speak? Charentis hesitated, the moment felt so surreal. The voice even felt familiar, but she didn't add more hesitation to think about it anymore than that. They sounded like a Commanding Officer.<<"Yes ma'am!">> She shouted into the void, not sure if it reached whoever was out there- if it was even something greater than her own imagination.
All of this time she'd waited. All of this time, she'd wanted nothing more than to serve her people, to pull their legacy forward no matter the personal cost.
But... It didn't change reality. She remained in her vat, even if deep down she was trying to get out. It made no difference, machines were machines, and she was part of a program greater than herself. She was only getting out with external authorization at the location of the vat, manually. Hidden away near the end of the cloning chamber itself, the lower half of her vat had been coated in a thick layer of mold after mutants had rotted away at its' base.959 | 1603 Emargine "Azure" Cerola Valentus
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Post by Valentus on Jul 19, 2021 10:44:54 GMT -8
The rusty ladder, thankfully, was not a trap - it in fact led the Tuffle and his fairy downwards, to the floor below. Instead of an intersection, Valentus dropped down into a yet another corridor, murky and smelling of rotten flesh just like the rest of the entire compound. It wasn't long before he could tell that he was starting to get closer to his goal, however. The walls were less heavily armored, and the layout of the rooms lined alongside said corridors were different - the rooms were larger halls thick with machinery, electronics and ancient, rusted equipment needed to keep the clone farm going. Thick wires were scattered across the ground, needing Valentus to watch his step without tripping over them. This did not mean that the security was going to get more light. Traps were still everywhere, requiring the swordsman and the fairy to constantly look around for any signs of them and take a much longer route. Chances are, they were going to meet even more mutants from here on out, as well. It only makes sense for their numbers to be greater when closer to the source. Valentus took the direction to the left, making his way through a fairly inconspicuous corridor, but he and Paizu had to take several sharp turns and change direction from there on out. Several of the doors were simply impossible to bypass - a grid-like pattern of laser sensors covered them from either side, and while the fairy was able to slip through them, she was not going to get very far without her Tuffle partner force-opening the door itself. At best, Paizu slithered through nooks and crannies to check if there was anything important on the other side, returned back, and reported with a few hand signatures. There was a card slot next to each of these laser grids, and Valentus assumed that the apparatus was still working well enough to register the clearance of someone from the TSE. Unfortunately, even if he did have his identification with him - which the Tuffle did not, it was either still lying on what once was his bunk bed in a Tuffle bunker, or perhaps incinerated - he doubted it would have been enough to let him pass. Chances are, the base uses a some sort of database of accepted ID numbers, which almost certainly hasn't been updated for a long, long time, and does not include him. However, having turned to the left from one of these impassable doors, Valentus, after passing through several more less impenetrable layers of sensor, made his way to a more accessible door - with a sword squeeze into the gap and then a rip with superhuman force, the Tuffle opened it, revealing one of the facility's several cloning vat holding rooms. The light of Paizu's wings shined over an array of light green pods lined along one of the walls of the room. No, this was not the one they were searching for. All of these pods were shut down, several of them had their glass panel broken and internal bio stimulant fluid spilled to the floor, where, after years of degradation and feeding by local micro-organisms, took a disagreeable, metallic smell. If there was still a working pod in the facility, presumably with a still unmutated clone inside, then it must be lower in the bunker complex. Perhaps the "main" cloning chamber, or whatever you want to call it. A bit... disappointing. But they still have time to delve deeper. It doesn't seem like the Azure Dragoons know of his presence yet, either. Every once in a while, he would hear a very faint shot or a burst in the distance, coming from two different directions - thankfully, in either case, they were nowhere near just yet. " V-Val...?" Paizu spoke up, clearing the Tuffle out of his internal thoughts - with worry in her face, the fairy girl was pointing to one of the broken cloning vats. While the rest were empty and barren, this... still had a clone inside. One just as mutated as the rest, yet laying inside of the vat. Perhaps, having not found anything it could consume in its section of the bunker, it was hibernating, or merely waiting for anything to pass by - and as suddenly a hand with several oozy fingers clenched onto the edge of the machine to start pulling itself out, that guess was as good as any. Valentus immediately rushed with his hand to get Paizu to fly out of the room and then stepped back. There was only so far he could run from this mutant - so instead, the Tuffle drew his sword and waited, watching the fifteen feet tall mutant slump across the room and approach him. Intimidating... but he's already beaten one before, he should be able to find a way to take down a second one. The mutant swung its slithery arm, aiming to crush Valentus into paste. Powerful, yet slow, and it should not be anything difficult to- You’re here? Bad idea... this place is cursed..." AGH!" The mutant's fist struck Valentus directly, slamming straight into the Tuffle's face and propelling him across the room. With a pained yelp and several grunts, he bounced across the tiled floor several times before finally stopping with a slide on his bottom. First of all... that one punch was enough to almost knock the wind out of him. It forced his sword out of his hand, leaving it sliding across the floor and ending up half a dozen meters away from him. What should have been a fairly simple fight against a tough, yet brute and unintelligent monster could now become a fight for his life. Second of all... what was that? It was a girl's voice, yet definitely not Paizu. Since the fairy watched the event with a mix of confusion and terror, it was not hard to guess that she did not hear it, and thus it was confined solely to the Tuffle's mind. Was this one more of the bunker's traps to kill any infiltrators? Perhaps... but it's rather too childish and non-lethal for the Tuffles to employ. Telepathy...? Certainly felt like it, and yet where could it have possibly come from? -Get out of my head! Valentus yelled inside of his mind, and began to pull himself back up to his feet. Unfortunately for the young hero... he soon learned that his misfortune was not yet over. The mutant smacked him straight into a trap. The metal panel under his body suddenly activated its hidden mechanism - cuffs grew out of the panel and wrapped around his wrists, heels and neck, chaining him to the tile, all while the tile itself immediately fell, descending downwards at breakneck speed. To Paizu, her partner got suddenly chained and then vanished into a square-shaped hole in a mere second. " Val!" (1142 words, total 4872)
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Post by Emargine "Azure" Cerola on Jul 21, 2021 9:24:06 GMT -8
Fenrir 1-2 didn't need a signal. He knew the policy whenever the Boss stopped to get telepathic. It wasn't often she did this, but whenever it happened, he was ready to step up. The standing orders were simple, really. Take control of the elevator hall and then rig the elevator shafts for dynamic entry - and exfil if necessary. No, they wouldn't be powering the lifts today. Just pry open the doors and set up a winch system similar to what Fenrir 5 had set up at the fallback point. Speaking of which, it was about time for a check-in. He motioned to Fenrir 1-4, who got the message and relayed it. <<Fenrir, Fenrir 1. Report in.>>The sounds of gunfire echoed through the halls and transmission. Although Fenrir 2 sounded as cool as a cucumber. <<Fenrir 1, Fenrir 2. Still making our way to the security room. This way's pretty rough with a few mutants, but looks pretty good. Might not have to detour this time. ETA 7 minutes.>>The rest of the reports weren't anywhere as eventful, though. <<Fenrir 1, Fenrir 3. Ground side perimeter remains clear. Nothing but snow and trees.>>
<<Fenrir 1, Fenrir 4. Top side perimeter remains clear. Avalanche shield is holding, though there ain't no avalanche yes.>>
<<Fenrir 1, Fenrir 5. COP is secure. We're keeping the soup hot up here while decrypting these Index error reports you've been forwarding us.>>
<<Fenrir 1, Fenrir 5-A. We just torched a couple muties a couple minutes back. But the fallback point remains clear.>>
<<Roger that, Fenrir. We've just secured the elevators and are rigging them for a deeper dive. We'll keep you updated. Stay frosty. Fenrir 1 Out.>>It didn't take much time, but it was a good idea to check in nonetheless. See how they were doing at this point. In any case, the cables were secure, and the winched ladder in place. He looked over at the Boss, who was still very much silent in meditation. A wildly beating heart. Adrenaline. Confusion. Frustration. Yes, this other intruder wasn't doing so well. And judging from how he yelled back, was not in the mood to play around. It is likely he was fighting against a mutant. Maybe one more than he could easily deal with? His position had moved erratically in this short time. Yes, definitely a fight. Perhaps a close combat one, given how much movement he was making. Maybe if she reached out some more, she could make more sense of what was going on. Because he was still clearly conscious, but struggling in place. Subconsciously, she drew up the floor plans, tried to match it with the general area of this person. A fuzzy picture. Perhaps another cloning room. She brought up the map of the trap plans. Yes... yes, there was one in that area. It was another gamble, of course, but worth it. If she could get this intruder away from the target area, then maybe it would help to gain his trust. The little girl went off again... <<I told you. It's cursed. That's why I'm trapped here.>>A simple ruse. And a risky one at that. Was he even aware of the clone at the bottom of the complex? Still... a trapped conscious psychic clone would mention that part sooner than later. He could have just stumbled here while looking for loot. Or maybe he also picked up on the signal somehow. In that case, that was bad. Who else could possibly get their hands on the signal? It was transmitted specifically to the nearest possible copy of the Master Index, using TSE frequencies, encrypted in ancient TSE ciphers, which Fenrir 5 was working on. She'd have to get them to send what they had done with so far. The only possible way was through the use of a TSE device. And HQ said nothing about another salvage team being sent this way. Either this other intruder was a deserter, or someone who had gotten his hands on a deserter's tech. Whichever way that turned out, he was simply bad news. So this was the best she could do. Cerola turned her attention to the actual clone. And... that particular gamble had paid off. Almost reflexively, she responded like a good soldier would. Although she could tell... this soldier wasn't moving. But of course. She was kept in place by the failsafes in her vat, no doubt. But it was good that she was reachable. At the very least, the general could prepare her for the extraction. Though vat sickness was a thing, you never knew if a full-sized clone, in their confusion, might end up suddenly hurting someone trying to get them out of the vat. She'd seen it happen a number of times while the Index NeuroJumper technology was being tested. Most weren't something that a trip to the infirmary couldn't handle. But that really depended on what kind of clone you were dealing with. For all she knew, this one might have been a highly-trained assassin of some sort, or more. In which case, it was best to minimise the chance that she might lash out against her liberators. The general took point and slid down the cable ladder into the shaft. Two stories down. It might have been easier to just go straight down to Sublevel 5, but there was the very real possibility of mutants showing up to snap the cable at an inopportune time. She pulled the door open and scanned the hall. More traps, retracted. A quick swipe of her card took care of it. Many doors. These were the labs. Not necessarily vats, but this was where routine tests were doing to ensure cloning quality. Some test vats were located back there too, so one should expect more mutants. With a quick order to secure the hall, Cerola found a dead end corner from which she could converse a bit more with this trapped soldier... one who had a rather familiar voice, actually. Really, though, the simplest way to build rapport was for them to identify themselves. Standard procedure, right? <<Good. You can hear me. This is General Emargine Cerola, of the 17th Mobile Warfare Division. Who am I speaking with?>> Sure, that was her old unit. But this facility was not populated, and likely ended up here with the destruction of Planet Aspic. That was long before Cerola was cloned on this world. So the most reasonable approach, was to use the older designations. Something this soldier might recognise, instead of modern ISLET conventions. [1095/6853] Valentus The Charentis Project
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Post by The Charentis Project on Jul 21, 2021 10:12:55 GMT -8
The darkness remained around the Tuffle Supersoldier. She was standing, ready to go in her mind, but... The reality that pushed against that determination served as a hamster wheel. She was running, but she had no traction. She wanted to help, wanted to put forward the initiative, but she... She couldn't. In truth, she was waiting for the black void to return to some sort of vivid dream- in truth, she thought the black void was just an extension of her dream. Yet she always needed to be alert, always needed to be ready, maybe... Maybe there would be a day she could live again. The determination in her voice was true, but she also felt dread. Fear that it wasn't real, worry that it was just another letdown. It wasn't as if she hadn't dreamed of rescue in the past. Was this just another one? She couldn't even consciously wish for the voice to say something else, to confirm that it really existed. Dreams are influenced by feelings and emotions, and if she got a response after desiring for one, it was just a self-feeding cycle. Even if it was real, in the world of her mind everything was just interpretation and psychological fortitude. Then the voice arrived once more. It was all around her, but the words spoken niche to the circumstances undermined the grandeur of their delivery in Charentis's mind. <<Good. You can hear me. This is General Emargine Cerola, of the 17th Mobile Warfare Division. Who am I speaking with?>> She heard, more than once in fact- the dreamspace had a reverberating effect as psychic communication was paired with a dream state. Yet she struggled to imagine the incalculable odds about her dreaming her ancient classmate coming to the rescue. Though it lined up more than she wanted to imagine. Cerola's achievements during the Tuffle-Saiyan Wars were significant enough to make her an prime cloning candidate. Charentis expected the General to outlive a biological lifespan for a long time... But... Well, any wholesome feeling was washed away. Pft. Seriously? That blue haired brainiac twerp actually thought herself so massively brained that she could harness the audacity to set foot in her designated cloning facility? She thought seven hundred plus years were enough to grow out of being a galactic NEEERD, but only the greatest nerd of them all would still be a nerd. Who else was such a MASSIVE nerd that they could think so hard their very thoughts could communicate with others? What the Hell? Seriously? Oh gods no- an unfathomable jolt of tension from Charentis would cause her body to wiggle ever so slightly. The movie. That movie.Not only was she a nerd, she was a military nerd that moonlighted as a monkey loving actress. HOW!? It didn't take a nerd's brain to figure out that the infinitesimally minuscule percentage the single most notorious nerd breaking her out was a huge slap in the face to athletics across the entire universe. Where was- right, he died ten seconds into his first battlefield deployment. But what about- ah... Yeah, deployed into a battlefield against a planet-beached space monster with his ocular enhancers set to 'night vision' in the middle of the day, dying as he was blind. Surely even-... Awkward, Charentis was down 3 for 3 on thinking of 'athletic' types who valued strength over all else making it in a war against the Gorilla people. The only warning General Emargine Cerola would receive before the onslaught of berating was a flustered. <<" S#@t.">> Flustered beyond all belief, psyching herself up, she had convinced herself that General Cerola was (correctly) very real and very aware of her feelings. She was in her head? <<" You've got to be kidding me, come on! Why!? Y-you know, if they were going to send you, the biggest nerd of all time they should've done it generations ago! Do you know what it's like to be in suspended animation pseudo-conscious for more years than craps you've taken in your entire combined lifespan?!">> Her little analogy there didn't quite check out in her favor. <<" Aaaaaah! Cerola how could you?!">> The supersoldier's mind shifted, moving towards the Brussel's the Muscles 'Jack Raker' movie. <<" You. Kissed. An. Ape! Do you know that means you're disea- Wait, right, I figured this one out. In the dozens of times I was fed that movie on the PCN broadcast, I figured it out. It's a movie, duh, so the person you kissed was just acting like a Saiyan and dressed like a Saiyan. Right... Right?>> Did she see reason? Was she calming down? Anything but, <<" But even then, you still kissed the resemblance of a Saiyan! What's next, raising sea monkeys?! We're supposed to be exterminating them to save the galaxy, not-">> The simplest way to describe what came next was 'brain vomit'. She was so flustered her thoughts were practically white noise. When they cleared out she pushed more thoughts into the nullspace that her consciousness resided in. << "B-but you have to have a good reason right, you're a nerd. A, huge, gargantuan, enormous, incalculably immense NERD! Was it for Public Relations? Are we trying to advertise ourselves as 'all accepting' or something? That's counter productive, that's rolling back the war we need to win! You're supposed to have the gargantuan brain so wh-">> Brain vomit. Contrary to her formal introduction, having been in the same class and known Cerola personally, she felt like she was above formalities. << "Oh right, remember me? You might recall from my absolutely exemplary performance in the academy that I'm Charentis, the one and only. Never kissed the likeness of a Saiyan, that's for sure.
Only a nerd would do that.">> She said. Made no sense, at any rate. She was...
She was happy.961 | 2564 Emargine "Azure" Cerola Valentus
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Post by Valentus on Jul 22, 2021 2:25:06 GMT -8
Even though Paizu broke her promise of complete silence by yelling out her partner's name, the mutant which had been gunning after him did not turn its attention towards her. Just in case, the fairy dimmed her lights, leaving the corridor in complete darkness, but the mutant merely slumped to the trapdoor which sent the Tuffle downwards, and after seeing that it was not going to fit through the panel, it turned around and began sauntering back to its place of hibernation. These mutants were operating on pure instinct, but even pure instinct could tell that it was not going to gain much nourishment from a fairy which was so tiny that it was barely larger than a tip of its finger. Or, at least, it would expend far more energy trying to catch the little thing than it gains from eating her. Still, Paizu cowered in the corner, fearful for her life, her mind growing increasingly angry. Why did it have to be this jackass who managed to guess her name in the Forest of Terror? Now she has no option but to follow him and listen to him, and what does that idiot do? Go and fight monsters, travel without abate, and now infiltrate what was quite literally a setting for a science fiction horror movie! Now that kid is gone, and she is going to die here, either crushed by some monster or shot by one of those evil Tuffles which Valentus was talking about... Okay, okay. Calm down. Now is not the time to panic if you want to survive.The mutant sauntered away and the trapdoor which had sent Valentus downwards closed shut. Paizu was now completely alone in a pitch dark corridor, and so she slowly flew up from the corner she was hiding at, considering her options. The Tuffle was now gone, but the fairy had a feeling that he was not dead just yet. The kid was dumb, extremely dumb, extremely naive, extremely... lots of extremes, to be honest, but he was too stubborn to die from something as simple as a deadly trap. Without him, she was not going to escape this facility... so she had to bet on Valentus surviving, for her own sake. With her small size and the ability to fly, she has enough mobility to navigate the facility, avoid almost any trap, and scout ahead - which, if she wants to meet up with her partner again, will be crucial. A sound coming from the distance suddenly reached Paizu and the fairy immediately dove down. Searching for a place to hide, she squeezed herself into a small hole underneath a wall once dug by a really, really determined rat, forcing herself completely out of view. The sounds was of boots thumping and marching - not the sauntering or flail-like running of the mutants, while at the same time more than a single person, so it could not be Valentus. It was one of the two squads of the Azure Dragoons - not the one who dove down the elevator shaft and was entering the cloning chambers, not that Paizu was aware of that. Their allies, making their way towards the security room. Here, Paizu got a bright idea. While she was not aware of what scanning and sensing abilities the Dragoons might have, she figured that she could slip under the radar owing to her small size. Once the Dragoons move past, she plotted to follow after them. Perhaps they will lead her somewhere important. Hopefully, Valentus' sword now lying on the ground, having been dropped by the hero in his last moments, does not distract them too much. The trap fell for one floor after another, before finally coming down with a loud thud in a small chamber - the knockback of the screeching halt hit the back of Valentus's head and immediately left him dizzy. Once the Tuffle opened his eyes, his blurry vision slowly began to recover, and the first thing he could see was the opening of the large shaft he fell through, a small bit of light filtering through it, closing shut. Thankfully... he was not dead yet. And as he gained more and more of a glimpse of his surroundings, and witnessed a turned off sawblade suspended next to his face, he learned that he was quite lucky to be so. While most of the other traps across the facility simply aimed to kill whoever was unfortunate enough to trigger them, this trapdoor, perhaps designed by a rather... mad member of the TSE, kidnapped its victims to an ominous looking chamber. Various tools for working with flesh and internal organs were scattered across tables to the left, while a turned off computer with numerous screens, pannels, and keyboards took up most of the space on the right. If you need to dispatch of intruders trying to infiltrate your facility, you might as well make sure that some of them do not go to waste for your experiments. But now, whoever was working in this chamber was long gone and the systems of the bunker deemed the machinery here not valuable enough to divert power to. So, all the blades, the computer, and anything else which may have once operated in this room were completely lifeless. And instead of torture, Valentus was merely suspended in place, all of his limbs and neck locked to the table. He tensed his muscles, but the restraints proved to be too tough to break, no matter how much he pulled. What... what now? Then, the voice in his head spoke again. I told you. It's cursed. That's why I'm trapped here.-H-huh?!So she... was not malicious? Instead of a method with which the bunker toys with unwanted visitors, she described herself as a victim of the complex just like him. Was she trapped here as well? Or was this one of the younger, not yet mutated clones, trapped in one of the cloning pods and communicating with the outside world through her thoughts? Whatever the case was, this put the entire quest in an entirely new perspective. Now he was no longer just trying to one-up the TSE. Now, he was here to save someone. Against a sudden burst of strength, the restraint on Valentus' right arm suddenly snapped, and having freed it, the Tuffle immediately began pulling off the rest as well. First, the left arm, then the neck, and finally the legs, allowing him to hop off the experiment table and step on the floor. Don't worry... you won't be trapped here for long.His weapon was gone, abandoned in the upper floors - but no matter. Valentus quickly scoured the table on the left for anything he could use, then ducked and pulled out an old crowbar from underneath. Even the highly technologically advanced complexes of the Tuffles found a use for simple metallic leverage - and in the absence of his primary weapon, this was going to be a fine alternative. The exit out of the chamber led to a series of narrow corridors, moving past perfectly lined, heavily armored doors, each one guarded by a thick layer of laser sensors. Since he was now in the lowest levels of the bunker, Valentus figured that these were a makeshift prison, crossed with a containment area - be it for traitors, defectors, infiltrators, or mutants they accidentally unleashed before the base was abandoned. After a sharp turn on the left, the Tuffle stopped. An another reinforced door was standing in between him and whatever was on the other side - but a rip by his crowbar and a push was enough to split it open. And, on the other side... Vats. A lot of cloning vats. Some long turned off, some... still working. (1293 words, total 6165)
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