DeviousMe

Johnny fell flat on his rear when Eileen veritably bounded from her seat like that, his startled stare following her while he remained there in surprise, sitting with hands behind and to the side of him.

Kia and Sarah had jumped up as well, though more in reaction to the first than anything else, no less taken aback than the little thief. They quickly made their way around the sofa, looking on curiously as things transpired, then gave one another a glance and stormed forward again.

"Wait!" the Tornado exclaimed with hasty tone and an outstretched palm, the notion of just dismantling the automaton (which she interpreted simply as a robot) not sitting right with either of them - somewhat illogical here, but fairly understandable from their point of view, "What's going on? Why do you want to take him apart...?"

((I don't really have anything to add until Grey posts for the heroes and the villains get to the place, respectively, so I'd be fine with just moving this along to there. Anyone else have something that needs covering on the way to the chopper/Paragon City?))

((Don't ask me, I only got around 100 sorcs and ~200 ghosts on my cheat sheet here. Apparently, things changed while I wasn't looking. Oh well. ))

Teivos had just jumped off the front of the hovertank when the messages came in. Unbeknownst wasn't quite so.

PVB7019: TPI generator down!
PVB517: Something got ours too!
PVB1182: Ghosts! They're coming right out of the ground!

The VB perimeter was under attack. And by ghosts, huh? Yeah, three guesses as to whose those were. Vlasta huffed out a grunt. It seemed today would be one of those days.

He threw up a hand and whipped a finger about once, the M7A7's pilot backing the tank up the alley and toward the road, just as Zeo came speeding back into the rough center of the 3-way intersection. The Sovereign's eyes narrowed as the towering hulk roared bestially, flinching back with a hand before his face in the wake of the heat. The other, however, stayed his guardsmen, some of which had already taken a knee at his side.

He didn't have time for this.

A pair of black-gloved fingers were thrust in Zeo's direction not two instants later. Teivos' inhuman lips coldly spoke but one word, Slavic accent only chilling further.

"Fire."

With a crack of static thunder, twin snakes of lucent blue-white spiraled down the barrel of the hovertank's main cannon at frightening speed, the piece of heavy artillery discharging not half a second later, raucously roaring a pale-blue wedge of truly titanic force at the man.

And striking nothing but ice.

"What?!" Teivos exclaimed in shocked exasperation as glittering crystal shards sailed through the air amidst a million flakes of snow. Regrettably, he didn't get the chance to investigate what had just happened, his attention drawn by the sound of an explosion from above, where a humongous serpentine dragon had just made scrap metal of the Comanche covering Burning Brawler. Almost simultaneously, the sky went black, and a terrible darkness came crashing down to blind everyone on the battlefield save those with the correct mystic signal.

Right.

PROGRAM 02 OPERATION_

The new software took effect automatically, modified code enabling the Odcarovats about to dispel most of the ill effects of the mystic night and what followed. Still, this applied only to those that had them - and since the cause hadn't gone anywhere (except the weather; this the local meteorological service weakened considerably already), just about anyone not in a ZUB Kazbek or near a tank got the brunt of it. The Gerlach-armored VB officers, for instance, didn't have a chance.

Well, relatively speaking. ZUB Gerlach still had a decent number of MPDAS armor pads, so it wasn't like they dropped like flies, but truly effective fighters they were by no means. The only reason their gunfire even went in the generally right direction was due to them knowing where not to shoot from the IFF subsection on their HUDs. Still, if nothing happened to change their present situation, they'd most likely be overrun in short order.

The tanks, however, retaliated viciously, especially the APTH-1, its crew majorly perturbed at getting a helicopter mashed on them, and while its .50-cal spoke volumes at anything generally hostile on the ground, its main gun gave a thunderous cannon crack, ramming another luminous, pure-white energy artillery shell into the dragon, and this time at point-blank range. Maybe this time, it would have more effect than just being summarily ignored, like the first two had been. For the men not inside, however, any help very likely came too late.

The M7A7s, on the other hand, employed their multiple EMG turrets to great effect, making quick headway toward the main road. In fact, the hovertank Teivos and the infantry with him had sought refuge under was almost at the sidewalk when Sun Tzu appeared, Vlasta accelerating his step to the head of the pack when he heard the man's announcement, a hand protectively over his eyes in effort to find the source of this blather, the swirling dust clouds created by the unorthodox assault by now making it difficult for both sides to see, even with all their various means.

And he did - right as said source threw a crackling cascade of electricity in the general direction of his position, striking the 'parked' car he stood not too far from and turning said vehicle into a streak of flame and smoky embers.

If Vlasta cared for this, however, he certainly didn't show it, stepping from the smoke of the low petrol fire line with a deplorable scowl. However, chances were that Sun Tzu paid a good deal more attention to the large-bore cannon barrel that came with the man instead of the Sovereign himself, the turning M7A7 hovering past the smoky wall with turret already aligned to target.

Sun Tzu.

A. Teivos: Fire.

And as infantry reengaged, the tank did just that...

--------------------

Vlastislav Teivos had excellent oversight. It was one of the qualities that made him a brilliant leader. Wolfgang Wolf, on the other hand, didn't have a clue as to what in the name of all that was right and holy was going down here.

All he knew was that he'd been chasing the guy who'd just bolted past him, then suddenly got turned into a popsicle, and a second later finding himself stuck with his back in a brick wall, upside-down to boot. Even without an organic expression, the truly titanic notion of 'WTF?!' could be seen more than clearly on the cyborg's metal face.

With a curse, he peeled himself from the building and picked his gun back up, seeking out Zeo while he started to rant, "Now look at what you've done. See? Now do you see what your rebels do? I swear, all this backstabbing really gets on my nerves..."

--------------------

Ryuu Hotaka stood calmly atop a lantern pole across and down the street, watching the battle unfold with emotionless visage. His eyes may have been hidden by the bamboo coolie, but he didn't need them to know what was happening.

Rash, Sun Tzu. Very rash.

He couldn't say he approved, but then that was just his opinion. Perhaps the human knew something he still didn't. Regardless, he didn't like the looks of this. The Sovereign's forces, though clearly outnumbered and outgunned, didn't retreat as Hotaka would've predicted. Instead, they fought, even counterattacked.

To the towering 'old man', it was clear this could only mean one thing.

Not good.

He watched as the Dark Sovereign stepped over the flames, watched as the tank's gaping cannon barrel emerged from the smoke like some plumbing pipe from the Pit itself, and couldn't help but marvel at the simplicity of the idea: have gun - will shoot. Most evil overlords he'd met didn't actually do that.

Regardless, Sun Tzu getting vaporized wasn't exactly part of the plan, and though Hotaka knew the man had brought something to protect himself, judging by what he felt from that tank, it was still going to cause some serious harm - and that meant he needed to throw something in its way.

So why not literally?

One of the VB's SWAT-like armored trucks suddenly flew out of nowhere and right into the line of fire. Of course, the tank's cannon blast had more than enough juice to blast said vehicle to smethereens, but it was at the very least weakened, much of its energy having gone into said spontaneous disassembly...

---------------------

If the sudden arrival of the sniper had given Griffin a startle, the sudden change in condition not very far past the corner of the road near the clothing store only served to make his eyes even wider.

"What in the world is going on here?!" he exclaimed in shock, the mentioned area turning into a warzone decently visible through the store's front windows, even from his vantage point of cowering behind a counter, "Has this place just gone completely nuts...?!"

((Okay, I think that's enough of my blather for now. Gonna give other people a chance to move again. Also from now on I'll be mainly focusing on characters, leaving the NPCs in this particular battle in a general 'they are fighting' state until things demand otherwise. ))

((Slick. ))

The Comanche did indeed stop firing, though the two others and it did take up positions around the rooftop to cover both the VB officers and one another, not entirely trusting the peace. From their links, the crews 'knew' that the rebels below had feigned one surrender already, only to let loose the flame-covered hulk at one of the Sovereign's assault teams. Fortunately, their despicable lie hadn't done them any good after that.

On the aground, the two unengaged hovertanks gradually moved in, Teivos already surveying the area for any rebel corpses whose heads might still be mostly intact. With any luck, even if they didn't manage to take anyone alive, he could perhaps still garner some useful information.

Egregore's teleport, on the other hand, had gone all but unnoticed, the PA's sensors not sensitive enough to detect a jump of such a short range as just below ground. There simply wasn't enough energy thrown around in such a case. Legion, however, would probably be picked up by one thing or another - such as the Comanches or the APTH-1 still in the street where the parade had been - if it got too far from a nearby surface. In other words, it was unlikely, but possible...

--------------------

Griffin's eyes went wide as a sniper suddenly burst into the clothing store...

"Alright." Drago conveyed his agreement with another nod, "What're we waiting for, then? Move out."

The decision made, though still feeling somewhat uneasy about it, hoping it wouldn't lose too much valuable time, he awaited the mentioned transportation, and would follow without hesiation to the pickup spot...

--------------------

"Logical." Arek remarked neutrally, detaching one of the compartments of this 'stealth' harness from the support strap. A click sounded as the thing unfolded into a pair of rather flat binoculars.

Spreading his wings a bit, the denim-hued draconian surveyed the site, switching through vision modes in the process, including thermal, low-powered X-ray, and several other means to 'see' not only around, but inside the building.

In short, was there anything of note to be found from their current vantage point...?

Fat chance.

The PA forces had been prepared to fire if the order to give up was not heeded, and since the heroes didn't, they had no reason whatsoever to hold.

A plasma beam incinerated Egregore's psi-bomb in midair, merely the first of many to tear thunder through the air, the soldiers' LEFPR's speaking loudly and often as Isabel and Zeo darted away, the latter with of course much greater speed than the former.

The tanks' multiple smaller turrets naturally didn't remain idle either, laying into the area with heavy energy machine guns. Isabel's shield thankfully held, and the tanker's combination of heat-based shielding and speedy zigzag kept him going.

The rebels, however, weren't so lucky.

Plasma beams and EMG fire alike ripped through their light armor and into their bodies, tearing, shredding, incinerating, vaporizing, split-second screams of agony filling the alleyway intersection as Kruger and his people paid the price of the heroes' choice, dropping like flies in the savage, mercilessly accurate crossfire. The Kommandant's own blood-soaked hand hit the pavement nearly half a second before the rest of his corpse, severed from the body of which little was left, the wide-open cranial cavity of his half-vaporized skull spilling sizzling gray matter upon the concrete.

Atop the lead tank, Wolfgang still crouched next to the Sovereign with rifle in hand, still aimed in roughly the same position in which he'd taken out the psi bomb a second before.

Wolf3r: I don't know /why/ he thought that would work.
A. Teivos: Because they never believe you'll shoot until you really do. Now stop the speed guy.
Wolf3r: Wilco.

The cyborg leaped off the tank and dashed to round corner about which Zeo had disappeared, regretting that the intersection of the three alleyways gave him no clear line of sight to the other tanks, positioned in the passage between buildings and war wall, while the one he'd come on occupied the alley that led to the street.

He regretted it even more when he found the tanker wreaking havoc with the soldiers around this particular tank, their attempts to counterattack apparently good for jack squat, just as the vehicle's EMG fire seemed to be. Following common sense, they naturally worked to shoot where he was going to be, not where he was, but still the large man was merrily making a mess sans any observable adverse consequence. Thankfully, the M7A7's heavy armor at least managed to keep the tank safe against his burning strikes, as well as the constructed sword. Still, if he built up the power of the latter or employed some other means to give it more oomph (a fiery embrace, if one will), there wasn't much of a chance he wouldn't just cleave right through.

However, that wasn't what ticked the cyborg off so much. No, it was that this schmuck had even found the chance to huck a fireball at the tank hovering across the intersection while speeding about, attacking the tank, and fighting its infantry escort, the second vehicle and its infantry detachment unable to counter due to significant possibility of return fire hitting their own comrades. Thankfully, they could at the very least cover Wolfgang's back, just like the ones still with Teivos.

Looks like it's time to try our new weapon.

The cyborg switched the firing mode of his rifle and took aim, calculating carefully in the span of mere microseconds, then squeezed the trigger. A blue-white orb burst from the canister-like barrel with report akin to a cryo cannon, and in fact that came very close to what this was. However, it wasn't meant to freeze people - this thing froze shields.

Wolfgang had wanted to try it out on the woman with the energy bubble, but the grenade had taken priority, so the guy employing fire and plasma shielding would just have to do. The final effect would still be the same: if this struck Zeo, his protective fields would solidify and shatter due to his momentum. In addition, he'd likely hit a wall from the sheer shock of the moment.

And Wolfgang was a very good shot.

In the sky Isabel quickly found that just because she'd gotten herself out of the warzone on the ground didn't mean she was out of trouble. The trio of Comanches in their air hadn't gone anywhere, and with her currently being the only hostile entity in their territory, it didn't take a lot of figuring to puzzle out just what they'd do.

One got on her almost the moment she made it to the rooftop of the building she'd aimed for, 20 mm shells from its XM301 turret pounding away at her shield, the helo's weapons operator just waiting for her to get clear of the structure to deploy the aircraft's missile payload.

As for the Egregore Device, just where his jump had taken him was a good question. If he'd hit the interdiction field with his 'port, however, the consequences were already quite clear indeed. That field didn't mess around.

And if he hadn't, chances were it would be only a matter of time before he was found. A ZUB's sensor systems were extremely difficult to get around...

((Idea. ))

When the man still didn't speak, the islanders grew a bit uneasy as well, looking to the door with increasing concern. What was going on here? Was this man some kind of authority figure, wanting something from Mr. Winston?

No, apparently not - for outside, a very grumpy-looking police officer had made his way to beside the hood of the man's car, and was in the process of scribbling something down on a pad of yellow paper.

"I don't know what this guy's deal is," Johnny remarked from his vantage point on the coffee table, out of view directly from the door, "but if he doesn't get back over there, he's gonna have the fuzz on his tail."

This of course drew Paxtera's attention as well, the peacebringer turning the man's focus to just that, to which the newcomer of course responded stante pede by dashing back to his car to ward off the policeman whom Pax had just informed him was infamous for just this sort of thing.

Luckily, he was also fairly easy to deal with, so it probably wouldn't take long before the man came back.

"What an odd fellow." Kia couldn't help but comment as the Kheldian closed the door again and returned to the living room. She looked to Sam, the man with the bat, wanting to know, "Does he come around here often?"

"Definetely." Sarah agreed neutrally, not really sure what all that had been about. Seeing as her friend already had that covered though, the Tornado resumed the conversation she'd been having with Pax, a sly smirk on her face, "So, you're one of those 'seeing is believing' types, huh?"

"Or just a little conceited." Johnny added with a frown, though a glare from the larger dragons caused a twitch and a gesture toward the peacebringer, "Whaaat? You gotta admit, what she said was really high-and-mighty-like."

"Johnny." the mountain dragon kept the insistent look, "behave. We're guests here."

"Right." Sarah agreed with a nod to the little man, then looked to Pax again, though she remained polite, "I can't say he doesn't have a point, though. I feel just a little offended. Was that really necessary...?"

((I really don't have any ideas. Khell's guy basically started a 'main plot' with his arrival, so short of getting him to go away - which I really don't want to do - I can't think of any way to get this unstuck without having Khell post.))

((M'kay, been a week, I think that's reasonable. ))

500 meters in the air, a trio of Molvias suddenly cast dominion to the skies. They'd simply appeared, no flash, no sound aside from that of momentarily displaced air - and from half a kilometer away, there wasn't much chance of hearing such.

One second later, the M7A7s already dropped form their carry bays, the large hovertanks going into immediate freefall, slowing their descent with only about a hundred meters left, going into a swift-to-gentle glide as the distance to ground became less and less.

During their descent, they'd assumed triangular formation, the equilateral sort, intending to surround those whom Burning Brawler's team currently fought against by blocking off the alley that led to the street as well as the two running along the war wall. Naturally, this was more to create the appearance of cut-off escape routes than anything else. Teivos' plan utilizing teleport interdiction was dependant on a rapid desire to escape, after all.

Of course, that didn't mean he'd played everything with that one hand. He had a good bit more, not the last of which being the soldiers in ZUB Kazbek leaping off their tanks once they'd reached a dozen or so meters off the ground, covering the vehicles' descent to the final three while the hovercrafts' own multiple turrets locked onto potential targets, ready to fire if the order to surrender remained unheeded.

The soldiers would of course do the same, rifles aimed and at the ready - logical, considering they were the ones shouting the command.

Kruger and his troops certainly obeyed, dropping his weapon and raising hands, with a quiet growl into his headset (which chances were the others could hear as well) telling Toy, "I think it's about time for that teleport of yours..."

--------------------

Griffin just looked about unsurely, not really having anything to add. He didn't know any ways of making the man's suggestion of a fake-out possible, and though he carried mixed feelings in respect to it, he didn't say anything just yet...

"It's certainly a safer approach than simply jumping right there." Drago gave a thoughtful nod, "However, my employer insists that time is of the essence here."

He looked to Millions, wanting to know, "How quickly would your idea get us there? Do you have any kind of estimate...?"

--------------------

"Paxtera?" Arek performed the equivalent of raising an eyebrow when the Kheldian seemed to space out. Then again, maybe she was just getting her bearings in order to take the draconian up on his suggestion...

With any luck, Mission Architect will be able to have us making our own trials. I know, chances are slim, but here's hoping.

((Sorry Rebel, I can't move people unless Khell posts a response or someone slams the door. ))

Oh, I have plans for quite a few of the groups mentioned in the backstory. I just hope we'll get the capability.

((Affirmative. Khell conveyed to me something that would happen once the lead chopper jumped, but since Teivos picked up more stuff between then and now, I have to give him the chance to decide how to proceed with it. ))

Snaps and dang, can't believe I missed this. Damn aero projects. Ah well. Looking forward to the results, heh.

"Not bullets." Drago corrected Rose with a neutral headshake, "Those just carry the killing agent. Like...no, not like. It is an adaptive poison. No, if I understood things right, those flashbang-like charges are what disables supers...likely by disrupting something in the brain by overloading the senses so it can't send the proper signals for a short while. Think of it as a meta-specific stun grenade. The kind that works on stone tanks."

"I disagree on the lead, however." he added to that, "Like I said, there are many people who could make these around here, and I doubt any of them would keep records we can access over the internet. Sure, we could find each of them, get into their stuff on site, and try there, but I suspect that'd take an unreasonably long time."

"Don't take that to mean 'don't do it', though." he wanted to make sure he wasn't misunderstood, "If any of you know anyone or has any database that could be compared here, go right ahead. But for now, our mean lead is still Sedadyne..."

He stood up from the couch again, "...which means that's where I'm headed. Anyone not coming along...?"

--------------------

"I did." Arek confirmed, his tone for the first time showing a twinge of emotion; and not a very positive one, "And I hope so. To the extent of my knowledge, he was taken in no less than three pieces."

A pained twinge crossed the draconian's visage, remembering the scene he'd cased in the Brickstown bank after 'Drago' had called him - and with it the three distinct, smeary trails of blood that had been there, all of his brother.

"We should proceed to the warehouse then." he nevertheless refocused quickly, inquiring of Paxtera, "Since you have seen it, you should be able to get us closest, correct...?"

I usually get inspired by people I meet, their personalities, or general concepts, not so much specific characters. Sometimes though I'll run into something where I just go 'I want one too', for instance with my character Gunslinger Pete, inspired by a Malta Gunslinger.

"I have." Drago confirmed objectively, conveying his findings from earlier as Dr. Lore performed her own analysis, likely finding the same things he had, "Problem is, there's a good number of groups around capable of making such things. Individuals as well. Even some 'heroes'. This stuff's as common as it is vicious, at least in basic principle."

"As for the how," he tapped the smoothly curved plate of his armored shoulder, "I got that from the one that went in here. I was part of the Arachnos team on the submersible that picked up Mr. Daemon. I didn't feel the need to scrap a perfectly good robbery simply because someone was shot."

"No offense." he told Harbinger with a brief glance, figuring the man would understand. After all, it happened all the time. Drago turned back to the round, not seeing the merit in waiting until they asked for it, instead simply telling them a story, "In retrospect, it may have been a mistake. But then and there, it didn't look much different from the usual: cops everywhere, streets blocked off, Crey, Nemesis, Council here and there, nothing really unusual - until I got to the bank."

He took a seat on the sofa, stretching his arms out to the sides, one leg over another.

"Place was a mess. But you know, I didn't think much of it. Thought the guys before us just had a falling out, turned on one another. Again no offense. It happens - usually when someone spooks a bunch of Eagles - so I walked right on in, not a care in the world."

Broken glass crinkled beneath the soles of his feet, just a fraction of the debris strewn all about on the carpet. He couldn't believe the devastation, a chill running down his spine. What in the world had happened here?

"I got to the vault, which to my disappointment sadly wasn't open, but with the guards gone and my lookouts keeping the cops busy, I thought oh well, still welcome enough."

He got to the vault, looking in disbelief at the myriad of bloodstains upon the heavy door. He approached. Yes, that blood was real alright. Someone had tried to get into this thing by pounding on it with their bare hands! True, there were villains from whom that worked just fine...but that seemed to very much not have been the case here. Whoever had left these smears behind hadn't done this with any semblance of sensor or purpose. Only frightful madness.

"I take the door, make my way inside. Sure enough, by then another 'hero' shows. You know how it works: tears through the lookouts, comes in like he owns the place. That much I expected. What I didn't expect was just how far Paragon's standards have shifted from capes and spandex."

He motioned to Harbinger, "You think he looks kinda scary? No? Well I do. Now imagine me standing there with a bag full of cash over my shoulder, and this huge dragon guy busts in on me. And I do mean huge. This guy had muscles on his muscles! On top of that, he's blood-red, absolutely covered in spikes, and he's holding a sword that's big enough to make me think he could just bean me with the flat and I'd be out. Oh, and did mention it was on fire? Yeah, needless to say I wasn't feeling so good about this anymore. Of course, as these things tend to go, we immediately hit it off..."

He took the door, just as planned. The grenades made short work of it, corrosive agents followed by a high-explosive charge finding only moderate resistance. Then he waited. It wouldn't be long.

Not a minute passed either, and into the vault chamber came Field Commander Groul, known generally as callsign: Spearhead Lambda. He walked with an unhurried gait, the large claws of his digitigrade feet dragging a few specks of broken glass in from the lobby as the alizarin-scaled draconian surveyed the scene here with a patient expression, the senior Arachnos operative of course taking note of his presence right away, as could be expected.

His words, however, were decidedly not.

"...um..." he remarked with a moment of hesitation, "Groul...what's with the loincloth?"

"I told you I was going to be in Cimerora before our meeting." the towering draconian smirked, "Apparently, it makes the humans there feel more at ease if they can imagine that there's nothing to see instead of just seeing there's nothing to see. No, I don't understand it. Hence I don't give it much thought. What happened here? Not you, I hope?"

"No." Drago shook his head, "Unscheduled robbery before this one by the looks of it, and apparently one that went horribly awry. My sub took aboard some pretty mangled people I'll have a talk with later. They're in no condition now. How about you? See anything unusual on your way in?

"...but the fight had barely gotten started when another crew busts in and tosses this contraption at both of us. Everything goes white, then black, and by the time my helmet's cameras restart, there's three random people on the dragon guy and one of them's waving this big gun around trying to target me. Needless to say, I didn't exactly agree with that, so I just let loose on them all."

The two almost didn't notice the small black sphere tossed into their midst, but they sure as hell took note of the thing's bright flash. Then the place went black, the lights' power cut, and before Drago knew it there was a trio of villains on the Field Commander.

"Oh, you're kidding me!" one of them bellowed, the towering draconian not taking kindly at all to the man trying to wrestle him to the ground, "I thought that was supposed to take away his powers! Why didn't it work?!

"Just take hi-oof!" another started, but found himself in the wall a second later, Groul even with eyes closed a more than capable fighter, ridding himself of the attackers in duly forceful manner.

Of course, even rising to the challenge like this likely wouldn't have been enough if the supposed Arachnos man hadn't interfered, the arms of his backpack speaking in tandem with his shotgun, covering the attackers (now clear of the Field Commander) with a spray of specialized munitions. Groul's burning sword did the rest, and though at fight's end spatters of his blood stained the ground, the would-be assailants had managed little more than flesh wounds.

"Lucky for me, he seemed to just about ignore that. I say lucky for me because he played grilling time with the other guys. So they're down, I'm alone again, he's bleeding and looking at me like it's my fault. Well...okay, so maybe it partially was, but still. In any case, turns out it wasn't over. Bunch of guys in black suits show up MIB style, don't say a word, and just start shooting."

"Started with what I'm guessing were plasma pistols, which seemed to work okay on the big guy, but not really me. I can dodge stuff pretty decently, and what did hit my armor managed. Naturally, that ticks them off at me, so one of 'em pulls out another big gun and starts blasting. Three guesses as to what that thing was loaded with. Yes. Thankfully, I've got a nice counter-agent, so when I passed out, they didn't think it wasn't going to kill me. My best guess: they grabbed the dragon guy."

However, they didn't get any time to celebrate. Not seconds later, several nondescript figures in dark business suits entered with machine-like steps, their faces unusually pale around dark sunglasses, taking aim with high-tech pistols that sent raucous energy blasts toward their intended targets.

More of Groul's blood made contact with the floor, the presently melee-oriented draconian unable to get close without getting caught in the crossfire, leaving Drago to reply to their energy blasts with his own. Unfortunately, they didn't seem to be too effective, but nevertheless got enough attention to warrant return fire by a certain weapon, a trio of venom-carrying rounds tearing through the spider-themed armor and into Drago's chest and abdomen, the third lodging in he armor of the shoulder.

He hit the ground hard, searing pain raking his body, a characteristic indicator of having been poisoned; a feeling he knew rather well. He also knew this wasn't any ordinary poison, and thus jammed an injector into his bloodstream as quickly as he could - though apparently not quick enough. Groul taking on the unfamiliar men in a bout of vengeance was the last thing Drago saw before things went black.

"And thus we find ourselves here." he concluded with a clam of his hands, "Hired to find these regenerators and the people responsible. Funny how the world works sometimes, hm...?"

[ QUOTE ]
"How did you know my last name, if you don't mind me asking, sir?"

[/ QUOTE ]
Drago almost froze. Almost. Not quite. Still, he couldn't believe he'd tripped up like that. What an amateurish mistake to make!

But you know, that old Grinch was so smart and so slick, that he thought up a lie and he thought it up quick.

Well okay, so it wasn't really a lie per se. Drago just answered with a different version of the truth.

"My employer's run across you before." he said, not losing a second or giving any indication that it was anything but a casual, candid response.
[ QUOTE ]
"Perhaps if we looked at the anti-meta venom in the bullets Harbinger was shot with we could find another clue."

[/ QUOTE ]

"Actually," Drago pulled a small black cylinder from his belt, the thing resembling half a test tube crafted of carbon, "of that I have a sample. Well, not the exact thing, but something close at least."

He presented the container to Dr. Lore, which to just about everyone here may well have raised the question of where he'd gotten it from. On the other hand, perhaps the issue of whether Drago had already preformed an analysis would be more prominent in their minds. Perhaps they would ask both.

In any case, he had indeed performed an analysis of this venom already. What had he found...?

--------------------

[ QUOTE ]
"You think you understand what I'm going through!? You've lost someone you were in love with!? That you don't know what to do without!? Who the Hell do you think you are!? You brought a Rikti to my house, you're wringing me for information I've already given Longbow..."

[/ QUOTE ]
"Yes I am," Arek's eyes narrowed at the forceful response, the draconian having expected something like this, stopping the woman by stepping closer yet again, "yes I do, and I think I am the one doing something about it. Why? Because the same people who abducted your fiancée also took my brother."

[ QUOTE ]
She sat back down and the group waited a few seconds. Finally, Pax asked for the specific date and the tanker responded quietly.

"Well... It was Thursday..."

[/ QUOTE ]
Now Arek sat down as well, listening intently...

"I'm counting on it." Vlasta replied with a steadfast chill in his tone, and there wasn't a chance Archlich wouldn't take that resolve to mean exactly what it did: that Teivos had a plan.

"From what I've seen, these guys are very fond of teleportation as well." the Sovereign explained, handing one of the rifles to Wolfgang, whose metal jaws seemed to actually smile excitedly, the cyborg shaking off the feeling of being covered in jell-o that Archlich had given him, "So we're going to use that against them. Three tanks dropping out of the sky is a scary thing. I'm betting they'll jump away. And when they do..."

Teivos closed a fist with force, "Checkmate."

He didn't tell the skeleton what he meant by this, assuming Archlich already knew: since a certain high-ranking VB officer and his personal unit kept the rebels busy, the officers that had established a perimeter about the site had been completely free to set up a sort of security force field. Unlike the ones on Primal Earth, however, this kind had neither a blue shimmer nor did it exist entirely in this continuum. In short: it wasn't solid, nor entirely there (which in turn rendered it nigh-impossible to detect from this world), and couldn't even prevent people from walking through it; but it could snag teleporters.

And not just snag them. Hammer them. Even a matter transmission through overordered space slamming against that shield received such a shock that the subject rematerialized unconscious over 90% of the time. Those that didn't were nearly always heavily stunned, and received a murderous migraine and respectable loss of motor control on top of that - a rather logical consequence of near-total nervous system overload.

"Synch timers to the automatics." Teivos commanded as he followed Wolfgang and his personal guard onto the hovertank, "I want deployment the second we arrive."

"Understood, Sir." came the characteristic radio-electronic response from the cockpit, the pilots setting to work on the, "Knights Two, Three, heading one one niner, deploy at mark plus one, synch to automatic control. Jump in five."

"Knight Two, one one niner, synched and locked." came the reply from the second Molvia almost instantly, the first following a snap after that, all three choppers matching their jump and deployment times via their computers.

Teivos knew well that just about any teleportation tended to be disorienting for an organic being's senses, even if it was but a tad, and he didn't want to leave anything to chance. Machines didn't obey those rules, and this Vlasta used to his advantage: exactly one second after the Molvias had teleported into the skies above the battle in Perez Park, the M7A7s they carried would automatically be released.

"Jump in two...one...now..."

"Hmh." Drago gave an appreciative nod, both that Rose had been so forthcoming, as well as avoiding the flying brick that was a Nemesis plot. As she answered her communicator, he in turn addressed the others.

"My turn then." he motioned with a hand at the two behind him, "I'd like you to meet Harbinger Daemon and Millions Green. We've pieced a few things together."

Not seeing any reason to linger upon this, he proceeded to inform Rose's team of what they'd discovered so far...

--------------------

"Are you certain?" Arek stepped closer to the woman, leaning down somewhat, "There is nothing else? I do not doubt your honesty, but I understand what you are going through. The heart can have strong influence on the mind, emotions overshadow small details that do not seem important..."

((What the-? Dude, I told you I was waiting for Khell to respond before having Arek do more. What, now I'm not allowed to go party on a Friday night, otherwise I get run over? That ain't cool, man. If somethin's under time pressure, I'd appreciate if ya told me so I know to place a higher priority on a specific thread. So in the future, please do that instead. Seriously man, not cool.))

--------------------

Arek didn't say anything at first, choosing to stand as well, mustering the woman and her house as she retrieved the coffee.

[ QUOTE ]
"Anything you could tell us would be helpful, Ma'am. What he was doing and where he was when he disappeared, any strange happenings in the days before he disappeared, if anyone tried to rescue him. Anything that might give us a clue as to how to find him, anything at all no matter how minor it might seem to you."

[/ QUOTE ]
"Correct." the draconian added, having all but known the source of the chaos here was but the grief-stricken hero, "Please do not leave anything out, even if it is something you would consider irrelevant or of a personal nature. We really do need to know everything..."

--------------------

"Oh, my sincerest apologies." Drago retorted to Cassie in sardonic tone, crossing his arms, "I'm so sorry you're annoyed by my employer wishing to keep Arachnos off your tails here so you are free to conduct investigations without fear of Recluse suddenly going..."

"We are not amused," he performed a quick impression of Queen Victoria's voice (though it wasn't very accurate), then continued in his normal tone, "and decapitating someone because something you did got his back hair in a bunch. I'll make sure to do something actually helpful from now on."

"Or maybe you're just irritated by my lack of concern about your little toys there." he flicked the fingers of his right hand toward the assault bot twice in a dismissive gesture, "News flash: I'm wearing armor. And no - but I can read people."

With that, he considered the matter past, attention shifting to the gun in Jack's hands, directing at no one in particular, "Hmf...I really hope that's not a Nemesis weapon. Or if it is, that it has no connection to the abductions. Have you analyzed it...?"

Eileen received a collective look in the manner of 'huh?' from the three, none knowing what to say to that, least of all the tiny thief. When she brushed it off however, so did they, returning to the conversation at hand.

"If." Sarah emphasized the word in Akemi's remark with a rather sly smile, taking up Paxtera's question as well with a glance to her, "What if I said we were? What if I said that far out in the ocean, a long way away from any other land mass, there's an island that's been hidden for a thousand years..."

A sudden knock at the door interrupted the Tornado, as well as Kia quietly whispering to a devilishly smirking Johnny, standing to the much larger mountain dragon with his back turned and arms crossed, just smiling up at her over his shoulder like that, teasing her by refusing to let her get out of him just what he'd allegedly stolen.

Now all three of them looked to the door, and of course out the window at the car that looked just a bit odder than they'd already seen.

"Are you expecting someone?" Kia wanted to know, none of them having any idea that a car's tires being flat wasn't the way they were supposed to be...

"In a moment." Vlasta returned with a grateful nod, "Much as I appreciate this, we still have a few things to pick up at Štátna Zbrojovka. I'm not about to take on who-knows-how-many of the Reichsmann's supers without some serious firepower."

His tone more than indicated what he meant with that. He hadn't been very happy with Toy's failure the night before, but at least the story his entourage and Teivos' own guard had brought back, the Tsaigon had been able to make himself a good picture of who the rebels had been working with. That they were in turn from Primal Earth, under command of the wayward Reichsman had been agreed upon beyond a doubt.

Moreover, Zeo's blur on the news had matched the description of the earlier encounter perfectly. In short, the Sovereign felt he knew exactly whom he was dealing with here - and just what he'd need to take care of them...

--------------------

Štátna Zbrojovka
Main Elevator

Regions of orange light passed slowly by as the massive circular platform ascended, bathing its cargo in an eerie staccato of dark and light. Shadows slid over long cannon barrels time and again, slinking across the chasses below and onto the floor, never making contact with anything between. Between and beneath the gray-beige plates of armor glowed the pale blue of force, small rings casting their own luminance on the platform in stark contrast to the alternating orange and black, their soft glow constant and unchanging. There were three of them, floating in the air with no apparent effort, suspended by forces beyond this realm and held steady by the very same.

M7A7s.

With a ratch and a clack, the platform ground to rest, and the Caldok officers standing atop the lead vehicle in light uniform swept his arm forward. The three set into motion for the open main runway gates, two Molvias ready and waiting on the retractable main air launch platform of the State Weapons Factory, the third approaching just as they silently hovered over the thick yellow line of demarcation that signified the location of the nearly three-meter-thick blast gate when closed.

Touching down in reverse, the third helicopter opened its large rear ramp in tandem with the others, the tank trio splitting to take one each, even the bulky choppers capable of fitting but a single one. But from this aircraft came with the ramp Vlasta Teivos, his step in direct course with the lead tank and the officer upon it, the Caldok picking up the travel bag beside him and jumping off his vehicle upon the encounter.

"Ready to go, Sir." he gave the Sovereign a firm salute, which Tevios reciprocated, then presented him the olive-drab bag, "They are ready. All requested modifications have been completed."

Vlasta gave a satisfied nod, taking the bag over his shoulder and reaching into it to produce what looked like a rather ordinary plasma rifle, though the barrel had a slightly wider bore, a more canister-like look to it, "Performance?"

"One hundred over one hundred." the officer reported, then added before Teivos got a chance to ask, "The programs have already been uploaded. We are still adapting the reworked code to standard issue systems, but the Kazbeks should have no trouble handling it."

"Excellent work." Vlasta put the rifle back, and gave another nod to the officer, "Get in. We're leaving."

The man quickly did as told, boarding the Molvia Teivos had come from with him and climbing into his tank, the chopper's ramp closing after everyone had been taken aboard and secured. Within seconds, they were in the air again, flanked by the other two transports.

"So," Vlasta smiled to Archlich, wanting to know, "ever done an airdrop from five hundred meters...?"

--------------------

Griffin had sat down before a rack filled with pants in the meantime, figuring it might placate the mercenaries enough to stop pointing the guns at him. To his relief, it seemed to work, though now that they came toward him like that, he wasn't so sure that had been a good idea anymore, a wide-eyed twitch to move back only letting him know there was something blocking his way now.

Thankfully, they seemed to calm down again almost right away (wow, these guys sure went from extreme to extreme with speed), War questioning him in a surprisingly calm manner - though the suddenly added harshness of the last sentence did elicit another twitch.

"Okay, okay..." he held up a hand, a gesture requesting a moment while he looked at the floor, trying to focus his still fairly scrambled thoughts better, "Let me think...I remember we were in the lab. No, we were leaving the lab..."

"Whose lab?" interjected at this, earning a direct look from the griffin, who then glanced down again with a glum sigh.

"...the lab of a madman...who I used to think was the coolest guy in the world. I was such a fool..."

At the request that he continue, he looked up again, "...we were leaving the lab, and I thought everything was over, but I guess there was something in my head I didn't know about because right then I felt like my brain was going to explode. No, make that exploding. I...I can't even really describe it. I guess...the madman did it so he could get one back on us. I don't really know. All I know was it hurt more than anything I'd ever felt before, and it was killing me - but so slowly and..."

He actually shuddered, thinking back at this, "Somehow, I remembered Babe had a gun, and I latched onto that thought. It was all I could think about anymore. I screamed at him that he should shoot me...or at least I think I did. I know I wanted to, that if I was going to die, I didn't want it to be with that much pain."

"Next thing I know, I wake up in the hospital with all these strange..." he tried to make some kind of indicating motion with his hands, but couldn't quite get anything across, "...people around, and they're talking all slurry and weird and I can't understand a word. So then I notice I'm not dead...and remember that the last thing I felt was a huge fire in my head. I...well, frankly I panicked, and I think they put me out again after that."

"There's some stuff after that, but it's too fuzzy to make out any details." he shook his head, then looked to War again, "I think my body was trying to shake off the sedative, but didn't get it all the way, so everything just went blurry and heavy, and I couldn't make heads or tails of anything they said. And when I finally was able to again...well, there was a needle sticking out of my head and people telling me to calm down. Seriously, calm down? There's a needle. In my brain. That freaks me out just a little bit."

"I think they were trying to do something with my chips." he added, rather uncertain, "Or...put another one in, I don't know. Either way, I didn't like it, so thanks for grabbing me. I'm...really sorry it got you into trouble. Please don't take me back to try and smooth things over...I kind of like having my head to myself."

"Oh, and I'm not half-griffin." he added, seeming a good deal more comfortable with that subject, "I'm...well, just a griffin. I can even change forms now. Well...kind of. I've only done it...once..."

A self-conscious grin crossed his face as he said this, "...so I'm not very good at it yet. Um, let's see...I'm from Britain, near London...I work for...I work for..."

No dice. He couldn't remember his boss' name, nor the place of his employment, his searching eyes clear evidence of that, "...I can't remember his name. I know I work as a bodyguard, though...if they haven't fired me for not showing up to work. My sense of time's all messed up right now..."

((Well, if that's what you feel there Chao, I guess take care. You will be missed. ))

Drago had been about to say something, but when the man warped away, he opted to let things be. Instead, he now replied to Rose, a wry smirk floating in his voice, "Oh, my apologies then, I must've run into the wrong batch of freelancers then. Too bad actually, considering I have things to tell Manning's crew that they'd probably like to know."

"As for in Arachnos' best interest - it's most decidedly not." he then told Dr. Lore coldly, "Which is why I'm here. Or rather, why I was assigned to this: to keep Recluse out. He probably thinks it's not important enough to get Arachnos involved either way, but my employers have a better safe than sorry policy."

He blatantly ignored Cassie's threat, as well as what consequences his admission might draw from the large red demon behind him, but it was a safe bet that this ignorance was counterfeit in its entirety. When people in the Rogue Isles said things like that, they almost always had at least one ace up their figurative sleeves.

"So," he continued casually, a motion of a hand turning up the palm in Jack's direction indicating reference to his question if there was anything they needed, "what've you found here...?"