CptCommie

((We got mother****ing razor snakes in a mother****ing base!...You'll understand soon enough.))

Reloading and recouping from the encounter, the Nemesis continued through the warehouse, now far more vigilant then before. Still farther down the corridors was a guard check point. A few cameras watched over, but Aaron predicted no one would be watching. No one that was in any position of doing something about their intrusion, anyways. Approaching the guardhouse, Aaron saw the Red and White colors of longbow. Not taking any more chances, he ordered his men to fire into the house. Wood splintered and the dull thuds of bursting Storm Rifle rounds sounded off. Confident in his kill, Aaron continued forward. Freis coughed.
"Damn, smells horrible. Like burnt steak."
Aaron agreed and looked into the checkpoint. The two Red and White figured were indeed very dead, though not from the gunshot wounds. Both men’s faced were horribly contorted, the skin tight around their skulls. The eyes had burst and oozed down their faces. Mouths agape in expressions of their last moments being incredibly hellish. Aaron vomited on the spot. The two corpses still sizzled quietly, whatever acidic agent working deeper into the bone marrow of the dead men. Backing out, he closed the door. Freis just stared at him. He could tell something was very wrong.
"What the hell was that about Aaron?"
Aaron wiped some bile off his face.
"Don’t...Don’t go in there. Lets go. NOW. Fusiliers! Consider any and all movement to be hostile. Do not hesitate to fire unless otherwise told not to! Weapons armed and at the ready."
Freis somewhat concerned, looked no further into the matter. He had no interest in what horrifying scene lay inside. Aaron, moving at a stiff clip came across an airlock. He looked about and recognized a standard issue fingerprint reader.
"[censored]!"
He pounded his fist into his palm, then against the wall. He was tense and rushed, and the security systems in place weren’t making it any easier. Grabbing the bayonet off his belt he pointed to Freis.
"You stay here. If you hear anything, leave this base. Fast. Something has gone very, very wrong here."
Moving back to the guardhouse he opened the door. The exact same two dead bodies met him, though the sizzling had stopped. Grabbing one of the hands, he sliced off a finger. He dropped the now mangled limb back into place. Pocketing the Pilfered digit he ran back. The scanner whirred and opened. They moved through quickly and it closed. Aaron placed a barrel in between the door however, incase they had to retreat quickly. Freis pointed to the walls.
"Look. The air vents are ripped open. Would this have anything to do with your anxiety attack back there?"
"God...I hope not."
For the rest of the short corridor they walked in silence. A small glass elevator was at the end. They group walked in, though it was crowded. Going down, Freis looked as the floors passed the glass doors with increasing speed. He could've sworn he saw something else though, something that he knew couldn’t be. He shook his head, and checked his medical kit. Inside was a concealed Spaz-12 Automatic shotgun, a very big no-no for any medic.
Hey Aaron, would it be fair to say that with recent events all standard procedure is out the window?"
"...Yeah I suppose. Why?"
"No reason."
He checked the shotgun again and smiled. Aaron just eyed him suspiciously and turned back to the door. The elevator was slowing. The second to last floor whizzed by the door, and the final level was in sight. Aaron's first observation was the floor seemed to be moving, almost like waves were traveling across it. Then he noticed that the waves weren’t single organisms, but rather dozens of tiny snake like animals.
"Christ! Freis! Look at this!"
Aaron's words fell on deaf ears as Freis had already seen it. He reached into his sack and removed the Spaz-12.
"Hold the doors closed. Stop the elevator. We'll fight from here."
Aaron now noticed how Freis eyes had seemed to almost glaze over as he clutched the shotgun. His jaw was shut like a vice and his knuckles bone white. He was terrified. When Aaron paused in stopping the elevator Freis snapped.
"What are you waiting for? Stop the [censored] elevator! Stop it now!"
Aaron jumped and slammed the emergency stop button. The elevator screeched to a halt. A claxon emergency bell went off, though it was impossible to tell how far it went for. The snakes paused in the motions and looked up. One by one they recognized the moving shapes inside. They stood silent. Watching the glass chamber with empty black eyes the animalistic instinct kicked in. Foooooooood... Charging the base of the elevator, they threw themselves into the glass like hail. The occupants noticed something bizarre however. When they hit the glass, they made long gashes.
"Fire! Fire through the glass!"
Freis shot onto the pack of snakes gore flying back into the room. The Automatons fired blindly into the room, snakes being torn apart by the caliber rounds. The Jaegers just fired in great sweeps, the shell casings piling up and falling out of the shattered glass. One snake flew through and Aaron tried to smash it, but when he reached down it flailed about, slicing his ankles and the back of his hand. He screams in pain and shot it at point blank, a stupid thing to do. The Storm Rifle shell burst, tearing a whole in the bottom of the bottom of the elevator.
"Plug the whole!"
One of the fusiliers simply put is foot over the hole, the snakes bouncing harmlessly off. Another snake flew in and bit Freis foot. Inside the mouth a sharpened tongue injecting a weak sleep agent into the Surgeons blood stream. He stumbled; emptying the rest of the shotgun, then fell onto his face. Aaron panicked and stomped on the snake, the bottom of his foot being horribly cut. Freis' vision went black...
When he awoke they were on the ground. In the back round some of the robots were stomping about, crushing any surviving snakes.
"Glad to see you're up. Weren’t out long. Maybe 5 minutes."
He rubbed his eyes, realizing how badly they were cut.
"What happened to the snakes?"
"We killed then...well...most of them."
In the back a Fusilier shot something out of sight.
"What is going on here Aaron?"
"For the moment...I don’t think anyone knows."
The two sat in silence on the floor, while the Fusiliers went about their grim business.

Aaron heard the scrapping and stuttering of damaged robotics. He wasted no time in preparing for the worst.
"Fusiliers! Line formation! Weapons Ready!"
The automatons fell into line, similar in formation to what they had done when first opening the door. The two Jaegers opened up and put out their guns, the two turreted chain guns swirling about searching for targets. When the damaged Guardian emerged from it’s hiding, Aaron sighed in almost relief. While a Guardian was nothing to be trifled with, it was probably better then what ever caused the carnage spread across the room.
"FIRE!"
The four Storm Rifles cracked to life, the shells screaming downrange and bursting on the front armor. The smoke cleared and showed the initial barrage has near zero affect. The Jaegers threw copious amounts of firepower at the Longbow robot, which simply pinged off its frontal armor. However, some hit home into the long gashes in the chest, ripping various important cords. One of which was the damaged hydraulic cable for the injured leg. Normally the cord would have been able to take the strike, but the pressure inside was so great as the leg had been collapsed. The piece of broken lead was the final straw and it burst. However, not before it had fired its Photon Cannon. The searing hot lasers stuck into the floor and the walls, making dark scorch marks.
Despite its mortal wound the Guardian still pushed forward, practically tumbling over its own momentum. It showed no signs of stopping as it careened at Aaron and his Fusiliers.
"Scatter! Get the hell out of the way!"
Beside himself he pushed one of the Automatons out of his way in his search for a safe spot from the deranged robots berserker charge. The Jaegers still continued to fire, adding insult to injury. Only the previously damaged automaton still was in the way. The huge multi-ton beast slammed into the weaker robot, collapsing it under the weight. Falling onto its chest, the Guardian slid over the floor, emitting a horrible wailing screech as it went. Finally coming to a stop against the same door Aaron and his followers had entered. The Guardian still attempted to fight with the zeal of a cage lion. It fired its Proton Cannon in all directions, singing the uniforms of the Automatons. The Nemesis pumped round after round into it, finally the combined damage silencing its struggle.
The largest remaining part of the crushed automaton was its rifle, which was tossed away by the impact of the Guardian. Sighing in relief, Aaron emerged from his cover and the other robots, along with Freis gathered around him.
"Lets get the hell out of this room before it decides to surprise us again with something like that."

Aaron proceeded deeper into the base. Passing through offices, he noticed that the occupants had left in a real hurry. Papers were strewn across the floor. Out of sight, a copier was still attempting to print off copies of a research paper, though now it just went through its motions with no paper. Computer screens showed unfinished games of mine sweeper, and a few still had somewhat sensitive information displayed. The whole scene creeped the hell out of Aaron. Freis, lost in his thoughts again, knocked over a mug of coffee, which shattered on the tile floors. Aaron jumped, his rifle at the ready. Freis just stood still, looking down the barrel of the rifle.
"You need to chill out Aaron. Your starting to scare me even."
Aaron took of his uniform hat and wiped his head, swiping sweat out of his hair.
"Yeah...you're right. Just this place makes me wonder what made people leave in such a rush."
"Don’t worry about it. It's probably nothing."
Even as Freis spoke, he also realized the whole place was making his skin crawl.
"Now lets get this over with," Freis said, "the sooner. The better."
Aaron agreed and they went deeper into the halls. Going through a few I.D doors, the entered a small room. Inside were barrels and crates. Nothing spectacular. Freis noted that the smells had changed though. No longer the stink of bleach assaulted his nostrils, but now something different. Thicker then before. He couldn’t remember what it was, but he recognized it from a previous experience. On the other side of the room was a large steel door. Aaron took note that their were dents in the door, coming into the room.
"Alright. Fusiliers, line formation on the door, Weapons at ready."
The four robots responded and hustled into place, weapons at bear. The two Jaegers stood at the tips on the line. Freis walked to the door and opened it. It buzzed, and with a chirp that reminded Aaron of a Elevator it slid up and open.
The repugnant smell hit stronger then before. Now Freis recognized it. It was the smell of death. From in medical school, where he could work on the dead with no distraction he made careful notes of all the workings. The smell always accompanied. He was at a loss for words, but Aaron spoke for him.
"Jesus Christ..."
The words trailed off his tongue and echoed in the gore filled room. Huge puddles of crimson gathered in low lying areas on the floor. On the walls thick, long lines of blood laid in Zig Zag patterns. Also noted were pistols, which had fallen in proximity to the blood. Rifles, some smashed, were tossed about as well. A pair of glasses fell under foot of the robots as the team moved in. A few shreds of clothing were scattered around the glasses. The largest chunk only had a portion of a badge signifying the wearer was a high level scientist.
"Freis...what do you make of all this? Have you ever seen things like this before?"
Freis still ventured into the warehouse. A few crates had been busted up, and shell casings rattled about his feet.
"No. Never in my life."
"Alright, well keep alert. Don’t get surprised. It looks like whatever did this can make short work of just about anything."

Aaron quickly issued an order to the Fusiliers and the Jeagers. He was unaware of what the turret was doing, but was not about to find out the hard way.
"Target the Turret! Fire!"
The Automatons did not hesitate, they loaded the storm rifles and fired directly into the turrets front. The Jeagars, popped upon, two Chain guns a piece whirred about and fired onto the turret as well. The Lance Sergeant, having a Storm Rifle as well, assisted in the attack. After each robot had fired, he issued an order to find cover. The two groups split up. The Jeagers and three Fusiliers ran to cover provided by a portion of the door that still remained exposed. Aaron, the Surgeon, and another robot ran to the other side.
The firepower ripped into the turret, which spasmed to return fire. The mini gun which it protected came out of its sheath, and warmed fired in response. One of the Fusiliers, who had not realized his foot was still out of cover, was brutally alerted to this fact when the appendage was nearly severed. It stumbled and fell into the other Automatons, who were knocked over in a fashion that resembled dominoes.
Aaron and the other Fusilier, who had taken advantage of the weapons distraction, fired twice more. The shells hit the turret and detonated. The gun caught fire, and burning chunks fell onto the floor. It was out of commission. The surgeon sprinted to the robot, who had not managed to right itself yet. Assessing the damage, he took some pliers, a small welder, and some cord out of his bag. He repaired a severed hydraulics line, and correcting some damage cords that acted as tendons.
The robot righted itself and walked, though it now had a limp. It left behind a puddle of fluids that almost resembled blood. Aaron looked to Freis.
"Will it make it?"
Freis nodded silently, and packed up his bag. With the drama over, it continued to walk down the corridor. Though now everyone kept their weapons at ready.

The silence of Perez Park was shattered by the clomping of heavy feet. Underneath the thick, ancient canopy of trees, a odd sight was occurring. A group of what seemed 1800's style infantry, accompanied by two Brass walkers, was makings it way through the mud and swamps. The crimson and bronze uniforms popped garishly out of the otherwise thick dark foliage. Silently they worked their way forward until one of the trailing infantry got one of his feet stuck in the mud. Quitting after a single try, it went limp and in a totally empty voice it spoke.
"Assistance required!"
The actions gave the soldier away as a Nemesis automaton, a complex robot designed to serve in the place of a human. Looking over his shoulder at the distressed machine, Lance Sergeant Aaron Ericcson sighed. The only other human there was Lancer Surgeon Freis, who was so involved in his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice. Freis was an amazing doctor and engineer, but had gained himself a reputation of being somewhat spacey.
"Freis, would you mind giving me a hand here? One of our fusiliers got stuck in the mud...again."
The surgeon snapped to attention and ran to the automaton. The two managed to pull the leg out of the mud, and soon the whole group was again moving.
They arrived with no further incident at one of the doors Base Alpha 13. The door was not very large, but the stairs beyond it were more then wide enough to accommodate the two Gewher Jaeger’s that Aaron has taken with him. Strapping the door to the ends of the Jaegers, the moving platforms pulled. The gears strained as the four legs clawed at the earth for support, but in the end the door couldn’t take it and came flying of its hinges. The two Jaegers, with nothing holding them back, went dangerously careening into the trees, only to return later with a new coating of leaves and dirt.
Walking down the stairs, the machines in tow made more then enough noise to alert anyone. Four mechanical Fusiliers, and the two Jaegers could've woken the dead with the racket they made.
The stairs opened into a large room filled with janitorial supplies. Freis scrunched his nose in distaste.
"Ugh. This whole place smells like bleach."
Aaron frowned, though not over the bleach. Impeding their path was a even larger steal blast door, made just for an occasion like this. The Sergeant dug into his pockets and removed a door cracker. Even this highly advanced bit of technology had the typical Nemesis bronze finish. He placed it on the door, and it began to whir away through the various combinations.

(OOC: Hey, next hit I'm just gonna play as the security for the target. Just so you know. It should be more interesting)

(OOC: First of all, its not a tank. Its an armored car, APC, whatever you want to call it. I know this becuase I helped Khell choose it. Its primary function was to act as a command vehicle and as a sensor array, acting as eyes for the teams on the ground. The thing on its own, is not big or very threatening, the most dangerous thing on it is 40mm Grenade launcher. The APC was out of the way of everyone else. It was there probably becuase a exchange of nuclear codes is not something to take lightly. Lets say a APC had not been there, you guys made enough noise to signal any fast reaction group nearby. They would have been packing far more heat then any APC with a 40mm.

Feliks was about to burst out of the door with his weapon in hand to take on the two Soldiers outside, when one shouted. He had been listening to his radio before.
"[censored]! They got the commander! Everyone’s getting the hell out of here, lets go!"
The two ran, outside Feliks heard the shouts of soldiers issuing commands, then another voice immediately canceling those and issuing another. Revving trucks drowned out voices whenever another one was filled.
Opening the door, he casually walked out and through the full route that was going on. He made for the tree line when he heard the tell-tale Whump of a heavy weapon firing. He turned to look as he saw the Cobra lurch back in recoil as the rocket sped forward.

(OOC: Sorry, I was going to post a lot more but suddenly real life was like "Lol, no.")

Feliks was making his way to the elevator when he heard the panicked shouting of the guests above him. He wasn’t able to make out the exact words spoken, but it was very obvious that someone had just been very violently introduced to his or her god.
While his own curiosity was pushing his to stay and listen, every other part of his body was pushing back out from where he came. Finally realizing the longer he stayed there, the more likely he would be to caught, he started to run towards the basement door from where he came in. He still clutched his Tranq gun in one hand, keeping it more or less focused in the hatch.

While the guard did his business against the bush, Feliks slipped quietly into the basement door. Inside, it was almost totally dark. Pots, cans, and shelves of old crap littered the area. He made his way across the minefield of noisy trash until he reached the far end, where another door has a tiny sliver of light leaking through. From his memory, that door would lead to a service elevator. The elevator would most likely not be used by the chefs in the kitchen as the food would already have been set out. Feliks pushed open to door with his pistol out first, searching for any threats.

Feliks let the three pass. He had no intention of going out of his way to kill anybody. When they were out of earshot, he reached into his bag and removed a MK22 tranq gun. He fastened a silencer to the end of the already quiet gun. Searching around, he spotted a lower basement door into the service area. He was almost there when he heard voices. One U.N. guard was searching for a discrete place to relieve himself. As he approached he yawned loudly as well, his redundant duty getting to him. Feliks eyed the man carefully, seeing what his next course of action would be.

Watching through a pair of binoculars, Feliks watched the building and guards with scrutinizing eyes. The Cobra armored car would provide the biggest challenge. Other then being a armored vehicle, which on its own is a huge threat, it had been outfitted with an array of sensors appropriate to the occasion. Feliks didn’t know the exact details, but he didn’t want to find out the hard way. He also noted that it had an automatic 40mm grenade launcher in the turret, as well as a 50. cal up top.
The patrolling guards wouldn’t make it any easier, he counted at least a platoon on the grounds surrounding the target, with god knows how many plain clothes inside.
He sighed at the odds, but decided that if things went well, it would pay off so much more then any danger could outweigh. With that in mind, he grabbed his rifle, satchel bags, and started to skirt about the building looking for an opening.
He darted in the surrounding trees, keeping a good distance between him and anyone that may dislike his presence.

Feliks (Who is CptCommie, has said in another post.) Threw his hand up, as did Iosif and Semenov.
"FRIEND! FRIEND!"
At the point the spiders gushed down the chute. The wriggling mass made a bee line for the men, who ran behind Carlos and his men. They were unable to get thier weapons off the floor, or even defend themselves. Feliks drew his side arm however, and fired at the spiders.

Falling out the chute infront of Carlos, Feliks frantically gestured behind him before rolling out of the way. Still sitting on the ground he removed his gun and waiting for the torrent of angry tiny metal spiders.

As Feliks walked down the corridor, the clicking was getting progressively more obnoxious. Spinning about he saw a few shadowy legs dart into darkness. On impulse he fired, his round piffing into the dirt. Soon all three were seeing small metallic legs from all angles, the group resorting to untrained spray and pray in panic. Then the clicking, and the legs vanished. Suspecting a mental attack, the three were about to move again when a wave of tiny torsos trampled from all directions.
Firing into the mass, the three each emptied clips into the advancing menace, the weak drones falling with the firepower. However the numbers were great, and the trio soon were back-to-back emptying full auto magazines at the front spiders. Feliks shouted to be heard over the roar of gunfire and tiny legs.
"IOSIF! GRENADES!"
The frightened private removed two White phosphorous grenades, slinging them into the pack before resuming his fire.

After a couple of moments walking through the maze, a few drones came around the corner. The tiny drones puased then made a statement.
"Target Aquired. Destroy!"
Two tiny guns came out the side and opened fire. They only chattered away for nearly a second until they were torn apart by gun fire. Legs were clipped off, the guns ripped, and bodies punctured. Leaking hydraulic fuel and spastically limping, they continued on saying.
"Des-Des-Destoying!"
Feliks just walked by the tiny robots and continued down the maze.

CptCommie walked over and grabbed the number nine of a lift. Stepping on with his two followers, he slided close the gate in front.

"Well Carlos, hopefully your God will protect you during the next couple of hours. The last fight was tough, this one should be even worse."
Feliks made the assumption that this man was strong and determined on his own, but had fostered a belief in God his whole life. Feliks dropped the topic, not needing to pursue if further.
"So what brings you to the Coliseum?"

Arriving in time to see Carlos and his men in prayer, Feliks scoffed quietly and leaned against the wall across from them. He watched them intently. When he finished and looked up, CptCommie spoke.
"So Carlos, we have four minutes to spare. What makes you think your God will protect you? Hold you in higher esteem then everyone else? And more so, allow you to kill those who fight you?"

(OOC: I myself am religious. CptCommie however, is not. While not overtly aggressive about faith, he does find it fascinating people would put so much...well...faith into something that cannot be proven exists.)

"Ehh, you had a good run. Enjoy the relaxation. And the drink."
Shaking hands again, the three left and headed to the door for the next match.

Feliks waved his hand over his face in dismissal.
"Its a non issue, no apologies necessary. No one was hurt, no harm no foul. Say, next match why don’t we stick together. We could use a melee man, and I’m sure you wouldn’t mind some ranged firepower. My men are well trained, and should be able to fire into a fight at the right times as to not decorate the floor with your organs."
Feliks slapped his head in realization.
"Unless that foots still messed up. The offer of that pain killer still stands, by the way."

"Please, Feliks is fine. Thank you very much, you where very good yourself, despite the fact you threw a rock at me. I excuse that though. Maybe next time, shout or something."
Iosif and Semenov had become embroiled in a conflict about who would kick who’s [censored] in a fight between superman and batman. Semenov was using the argument that superman would win because he could simply crash the moon into the earth, then the earth into the sun. Iosif was using the amazing tactic of shouting louder the Semenov, making himself the victor.

Taking his seat among the bar stools, next to Podo, CptCommie simply ordered a glass of water. He intended to have his wits about him for the next fight, as it would be foolish to get smashed then go out with big guns. He looked to Podo and pulled down his face mask. He extended his hand to offer a hand shake.
"That was some self control you showed there with the Rikti. You were fighting him one second, then the next you were almost all buddy-buddy. We haven’t been properly introduced, my apologies. Feliks Danya, street name CptCommie."
He tapped the brim of his officers cap and pointed to the sickle and hammer crimson insignia, surrounded by gold leaves on a white back round.
Behind him Iosif was amusing himself arranging tooth picks like bad words, with Semenov holding his head in his hands in regret for being teamed with him.

Snatching up the unused medical stuffs and removing the bits of Adam that now adorned his chest like medals, CptCommie whistled for his men to follow him.
"Alright guys, stay close and watch your fire. See the Rikti, if any of you hit him, I will personally see to it you never leave here alive."
Though just moments before the two had been enemies, CptCommie had a great respect for anyone that kept their word, and honor.
Moving about for a good angle on Eve during the momentary lull, he found with great dismay that the only line of fire he could get was from the middle of the street. Crouching over the expanse, the trio loaded their weapons. CptCommie loaded in his second, and last clip of mercury ammunition for this match. Taking careful aim and waiting, Iosif and Semenov listened for a command. When it came, they happily obliged.
"FIRE"
The street roared to life as the three rifles came to life.

Being thrown aside by Podo, CptCommie rolled to a halt. He turned and saw Adam with his hands on Podos head. Taking this chance, he ran up and stabbed the end of his rifles bayonet into Adams disfigured face, then proceeded to empty the entire clip into his head, holding the bayonet in place. Iosif and Semenov had seen this, and began to fire into the back and side of Adam as the manuevered to help their leader.