DeviousMe

"Oh great..." Acid stopped dead in his tracks with a twitch as he heard the door careen off its hinges around the corner. If he knew anything about Malta, it was that Special Qualification Marksmen didn't hesitate to fire when something they didn't like the look of got in their way.

Why me?

With the characteristic sound of air collapsing into a suddenly appeared vacuum, he vanished from Henteko's side, jumping in zero time back into the radio room. What expected him there, however, he had definitely not expected. Fortunately, his idea to combat the Gunslingers worked out against this just as well.

The air before Alyssa flared up with the bright, pale blue shimmer of an energy barrier as a certain heavy round crashed into it with thunderous applause, sending ripples across the shield. A clawed hand stretched in her direction, the suddenly appeared reptilian stood quite taken aback, especially because the wavering ripples told the tale that the shell had almost gotten through.

Which meant that Brushstalker's forceful swing would crash through without so much as a second thought.

Acid spoke to himself no super powers, but if he had, it would have been his ability as an immediate adaptor. This meant he could adjust his way of thinking to virtually any situation almost instantaneously - and that's just what he did.

He sent the barrier rushing from its position, right at the Bane Spider with respectable force, bolting him against and into the radio equipment upon the nearest wall. At this close range and in such a short snap of time, he didn't stand a chance to dodge the barrier-become-mobile, especially with his mace to the side, Brushstalker concentrating upon his swing.

Regrettably, chances were the man hadn't even been stunned by the impact, and would be back upon his feet in no time at all.

It was a good thing the Khelari had another arm...

((Not my fault Danny walked right into the obvious trap against the recommendations of not one, but two other people. ))

The duo of reptilian and ninja quickly rounded a corner at the sounds, the former very much hoping he had not been seen walking away. Henteko didn't much have to worry about that, but Acid was decidedly visible...

One Man

"Wakey, wakey."

Oh, how he'd come to hate that voice. That smug, unapproachable tone that yielded to no authority; nay, even went so far as to laugh at it. This was a voice he simply could not stand. This was the voice of Acid Zero.

"C'mon now, I need you conscious for this." he felt the tap of a bony knuckle against his helmet, prying the lids of his eyes open to get a look at the Khelari through his crimson visor, "Oh now, don't look at me like that. I saved your life. Sorry about having to stab you by the way, but I had the feeling you wouldn't be listening to me if I did anything else, and considering your resistance to paralysis...yeeeah, didn't much feel like taking that chance, my dear Commander Cynic."

"Oh yes, I very much know who you are." the reptilian moved out of his narrow field of view, revealing what looked like a row of adaptable seating against a metal wall just a few meters away - the personnel bay of some kind of transport, this Cynic could tell quite easily. Indeed, he didn't much care, much less pay attention as Acid rattled down his personnel file, spending the time doing something that he figured stood a tad more useful: trying to turn his head.

"Oh, I wouldn't bother with that if I were you." the reptilian's demented chuckle reached his ears, "My friend here has a million hands, and he's got a nasty grip. You're not going anywhere. Well, not yet. You can talk to us though, if you like."

"And what would I have to say?" Cynic growled groggily, a sting racing through his chest as he inhaled too quickly. Still, he caught himself in little time, "Ask you what your plan is so you can start a monologue? Yeah, I know who you are too: Acid Zero, Mr. Space Lizard..."

The Khelari did not interrupt as the Commander turned the verbal tables, and about halfway through, the sneaking suspicion that Acid had wanted just this slowly overcame him. So he stopped.

"What, done already?" the reptilian mocked, "Okay. So I see you remember me, huh? No, I don't really want to know how. Actually, it's not impotent - I just wanted to know what we were at, purely out of personal interest. As for monologueing...well, I'd kind of need an overly elaborate evil plan to monologue about first. All I got right now is: blow stuff up. A little too basic for a good monologue, yes?"

"Tell you what I can give you a monologue about, though." the Khelari moved back into Cynic's view, throwing himself upon the seating row opposite the Commander with a truly authentic villainous slouch, "Nemmy's plan. The one that you almost helped complete. Yeees, right now Dr. Brass and the Death Metal Boys are trying to retake Vanguard's base planetside. Had you attacked them on the Jade Moon too, he might've even succeeded. Good thing you didn't get the chance to, huh?"

"Don't roll your eyes at me like that." the reptilian gave a bob of his head, sliding forward into a more traditional seated position, legs apart and hands folded between them as he leaned forward, "Nemmy is not as dumb as everyone thinks. If he really wants something, he's going to make sure no one even has any idea he's after it. Probably the only exception to that is the world...but since that's too big to hide a want for, I'm letting that one slide. Point is: he played you, and you took the bait hook, line, and sinker. Hm, you don't believe me..."

"Well, you are a compulsive liar," a voice came from Cynic's left, sounding a little further away than the Khelari across the narrow bay. However, it did resemble his own quite closely. Was there another Khelari here? Was Kerat not dead? The Commander listened intently, "so you can't really blame him."

"True." Acid answered the unseen person with a shrug, remarking to Cynic, "Fine then, guess I'll have to go a bit further: you are after a World 3 citizen that used to be property of the Overwatch Hallowed branch, and as far as you're concerned still is. Moreover, you know that the Malta Group, whom you refer to as the Twilight Men, had this guy at some point. Sadly, I can't verify this. Big M didn't pay that much attention when he played them for suckers. If he was here though...he ain't anymore."

"And how would you know?" Cynic snarled, scowling deeply, "Just because you managed to get a bunch of intel on us doesn't mean you know everything."

"Actually, it kind of does. Not everything of course, but yeah, a lot. Oh come on, you remember how, don't you? I've got two telepaths - duuuh. One person don't watch what they think," he snapped his clawed fingers, "bam, I know it. Just like that. Yeah, I've been holding back. I've always held back. Always thought that if I did, I might...eh, you don't wanna hear that, do ya? Didn't think so."

"Point is..." Acid's predatory visage curled into a most sinister, tooth-filled smile, the Commander witnessing the faint glimmer of venomous green in the reptilian's slitted pupils, "...that's over. I'm seeing things very clearly now, and I'm done holding back. I'm going to squish Nemmy, the Rikti, and anyone else still on that rock when the time comes. I already offered them the choice of leaving. You, however, haven't had that opportunity, so I'm giving it to you now. You can either go, grab your boys, and leave here...or I can strap you to the front of my bomb so that if they do find a way to destroy it, their heroic nature won't let them because I've duct taped a warm body to it..."

Acid, however, did not get the message. In fact, he didn't even see the arrow. For that matter neither did Henteko, for the two currently had their own problem to deal with. No, said problem was not the gas that rendered Alyssa and Danny unconscious. It was the locked bulkhead door that had slammed shut and sealed again.

For they had never actually entered the radio room...

A few seconds earlier...

"Why don't people ever listen to the paranoid ones?" Henteko sighed woefully as the door swung shut, locking with a loud grind. He didn't even attempt to open it again the usual way, but the Khelari couldn't leave the possibility untried. Sadly, the wheel didn't budge so much as a millimeter, "I could've told you that wouldn't work."

"Shush." Acid replied casually, pressing his skull against the bulkhead door to listen in on what was going on inside, and just in time to hear the voice of 'Mr. Dune'. It sounded a little bit distorted, but he could make out most of it, especially once he'd moved his head down to the hole the ninja had created earlier, the slitted pupil of an eye blinking through the tiny opening just in time to see the Kolokol-1 take effect.

[ QUOTE ]
"I knew this was a bad idea..." [Alyssa] said before dropping to the ground, unconscious.

[/ QUOTE ]
"Then why did you not listen to me and go in anyway?" Acid mumbled in monologue, straightening his back out again with a sigh, "Well, guess we better get through this door. Oh, and stay away from this here hole."

"Gas, I know." the unseen ninja acknowledged, but brought up for consideration, "But should we really?"

"Well...yeah." the reptilian nodded in the fashion of 'duh', clawed fingers of his hands held apart to make visible open palms, "The whole 'deadly neurotoxin' thing might be old, but it's still effective. We really do need to get..."

"...them out of there before it kills them?" Henteko finished, a smirk in his smile, "It will not kill them. Kolokol-1 is an incapacitating agent, not a lethal one. Trust me, I know my gases. If we just leave them in there, the worst that can happen to them is lying around KO for two to six hours...which they would anyway, even if we got them out right now, because the agent takes full effect in one to three seconds, and by now has already done so."

"Oh...I didn't know that." Acid's head bobbed appreciatively, "Learn something new every day. Okay. Got anything to write on?"

"Already ahead of you." the cloaked ninja chuckled as the soft crumple of paper came from the toxin hole in the door, the rolled-up sticky note becoming visible as Henteko withdrew his hand, "That'll let them know what we did and why."

"In two to six hours, of course."

"In two to six hours, of course. " the ninja confirmed with a soft smile in his tone, "Now...I suppose we really should set off that distress beacon, so how about we find Ryuu-sensei and do just that?"

"Works for me." the reptilian smiled toothily, and with that the two headed off, leaving Danny and Alyssa behind without a third thought...

((Bet you weren't expecting that, huh? ))

His thoughts came and went, in a manner most serene. He hadn't expected that. In fact, he hadn't expected much of any of this, subjected to all manner of twists and turns that jumped at him from seemingly nowhere at all, and this had driven his rage right through the roof. Now, however, things felt...different. They felt right. Like they sat the way they were supposed to. Simple. Uncomplicated. Straightforward.

"Yeah." Randall Grey mumbled into his beard as he felt the helmet visor of an Overwatch trooper give way and shatter to pieces around his stone-skinned fist, the crimson shards dancing through the air like rubies, several tapping faintly against the crystals of the large man's own armor, "That's better."

The Aether Pilot at the end of Grey's outstretched arm of course wasn't quite as happy with things, a pained gargle emanating from within his dented helm as the man teetered backward, the momentum of the punch spinning him about as he tumbled to the ground, striking the floor of Rikti architecture, naturally with his face first and foremost.

"Looks like that's all of them." Cory Simmons informed his friend, casting another spell through the gathering hall, just to make sure they really had gotten all the Overwatch here. The operation had already stood as a great risk in all their minds, this new enemy apparently capable of every trick in the book of the classic villain - especially a high quality backstab. Still, virtually all of Delta Team had concluded that their word couldn't be trusted, which meant any sort of negotiation for the lives of the hostages was doomed to failure from the start. Therefore, they'd made the decision: a full-scale attack with all they had there and then, with all the speed they could muster. It had been a gamble, yes, but it had paid dividends. They had won.

"That's what you think." the tied-up Trigen couldn't help but chuckle in near-silent malice. These morons had no idea - by now, even if Captain Salvius had been unable to capture the Vanguard command center at the Forgotten Sanctuary, Commander Cynic had taken their moon base, and from there controlled the way back to their world. If these shortsighted lamebrains ever wanted to see their homes again, they'd bow to the authority of the Overwatch. Bow. Like everyone else.

"What're you snickering about over here, hm, hm?" Solid Shot poked the Aether Pilot's helm with an index finger, repeating the annoying motion several times, until Toy Dispenser walked by mumbling something about a malfunctioning maturity module.

"I am unable to." Toy Bot answered its leader as he gave voice to the thoughts the battle had allowed Grey to let off enough steam to mull over. Apparently, he hadn't been the only one, Toy's most tactically-minded battle drone giving the robotic mastermind what its logic had produced, "If a grand underlying scheme does exist here, I possess insufficient information to execute a proper reconstruction. There exist too many elements retaining unknown connections, as well as an unknown number of variables, conclusion of which is not possible at this time."

"Well, that's just mildly unhelpful." Jake scowled, scratching the white hair beneath his blast goggles, "What exactly did that mean?"

"It's all a Nemesis plot." Solid couldn't help himself, earning dangerous leers from a good few of Delta Team, which in turn caused him to throw up a pair of empty metal palms, "Kidding, kidding...I get it, you're tense..."

"I thought it was funny." Mini Bot said in a cheerfully sadistic tone, but sadly it seemed that most people had already moved on, discussing what they knew in an attempt to piece together just what their opponents were up to, why, and where they'd strike next.

"Well, that's even more than just mildly unhelpful." Jake once more added his own two cents, his mind after several minutes very much occupied with repeatedly tapping his forehead against a nearby wall while the rest of him leaned against it by an elbow held above his head. He looked to the rest of the group, the general lack of progress having spread them in various positions here and there, "Okay, I really should be the very last person to say this here, but c'mon people, we can't give up this easily. There has to be something we missed."

"Like what?" Penny wanted to know, rubbing her own skull with a fist, "We come here, beat up Nemesis, run into Malta, one person gets infected by who-knows-what, so do his pals - I'm still not entirely convinced that giant...machine...dragon...thing was a person, by the way - they take over the Malta operation, one of them gets killed, and when we finally manage to kick them out of there, those losers over there get delusions of grandeur and try to go up against a fully equipped Vanguard expedition with super-powered support. Any way you twist or turn it...by all accounts, it doesn't make sense."

"She's right." Grey agreed with a sigh, his attitude much more calm and collected now, "And we still don't know what the hell the deal is with that rogue automaton...not to mention that I can't shake that nagging feeling in the back of my head that there's something more going on with Sage then we know. Kerat almost beat the guy to death...and then he just left. That doesn't add up either."

Balsk gave a slight twitch at the tanker's words, but he remained silent.

"Right." Toy's fingers tapped against his leg in frustration, the robotic mastermind glancing to Solid Shot a moment, "Okay, just hypothetically, let's say it is all a Nemesis plot. Let's assume for a moment he managed to plan this all out and...Grey, don't look at me like that. Humor me here. Let's say he accounted for everything, or at least the stuff relevant to his 'all your minds are belong to me' plan. Once these Overwatch goons attack, why not strike the moment it looks like one side will beat the other? Nemesis is clever enough to see that time, we all know that, so why not? What advantage could he gain by doing this?"

"Maybe he truly is trying to steal this person from the Malta Group." Archlich brought up for consideration, "It would not be his first time to spark a widespread conflict to achieve some small ends that would be lost in the grand scope of his apparently thwarted scheme."

"I don't believe that." Cory Simmons refuted the argument of his fellow (if rather opposite) arcanist, "There are simpler ways to do that. No, I think he's waiting for something to happen. Some key point in the fight between Vanguard and the Overwatch."

"But it's already over." Penny gave word to what most everyone thought at the mage's last words, waving an arm in Trigen's direction, "These guys are wrapped up, the ones at the Sanctuary are done for...and if there were any back on the moon, they would've attacked while we were busy here."

From one moment to another, all heads turned toward Aether Pilot Trigen, the man having let out a sudden, rather noisy gasp. They didn't even need to ask for him to explain, the man very much smart enough to realize when he'd been used. It didn't take him long to reveal Commander Cynic's plan, as well as his horror that it had not come to pass. At one point, he even inquired if they were absolutely sure the facility on the Jade Moon had not been attacked, and a quick call to Sheldon Wallace duly proved things peaceful.

"Yeah, we're doing just fine up here." the inventor's voice came loud and clear through the team's communicators, "The medics are still chasing Sage around every now and then, but otherwise it's actually getting a little boring. Why, what's going on?"

"We're not sure yet." Grey replied with solemn tone, now respectably concerned as well, telling his comrade after he'd explained the attack that had been scheduled, but never occurred, "Just...stay on your toes for-"

A sudden crackle within the channel removed the need for any further words of warning. The Lady Grey's voice came clear and unmistakably. Nemesis Army forces had begun an attack on the Forgotten Sanctuary.

Nemesis had gotten tired of waiting...

Buahaha, this is just awesome.

"Oh sure, stereotype, why don'tcha." Acid exhaled through closed teeth, "You see any anal probes lying around, you lemme know. I lost mine."

"Touchy, are we?" Henteko chuckled in response, reactivating his optical camouflage, "And it's a big red button that says 'do not push'. No way it says 'emergency', so don't even look for that word..."

Having established the emptiness of the room via his optic cable, Henteko had carried no deterrents to Danny entering. He, however, did not. Neither did Acid.

"Because they're leading us into one huge deathtrap." the two said in nearly perfect unison, then found each other's eyes wide and staring quizzically, still speaking in stereo, "Whoa, I thought only I was that paranoid. Okay, this is getting creepy..."

Their respective next sentences were thankfully no longer the same, but if Alyssa paid attention, she'd no doubt note they had a deftly investigative nature, for the reptilian cited some regulation of hyperspace while the ninja rambled off a postulate of quantum physics.

[ QUOTE ]
"Oi! Y'great lizard git, ge'in here; time's-a-wastin'."

[/ QUOTE ]
"I am not a lizard." the creeps finally broke as Acid stated this deftly, arms crossed before his chest, "Do I look scaly to you? Besides, I don't do the tongue thing..."

The Overwatch

"Our advance had come to stagnate in multiple sectors..." Commander Cynic listened attentively to the chatter of the main channel, the many cracks and garbles of battlefield transmissions giving him a feeling of security. Here he was in his element. Here he knew exactly what to do, "Resistance across the board is heavier than expected. Sector 17 has been forced to fall back to sector 22..."

The Commander passively eyed the liquid rock before his feet though the crimson visor of his helmet, watching the lava gradually flow by. It inspired him, moving so gracefully, and yet concealing such chaos beneath the serenity it held to light. His toes stood only centimeters from the molten stone, supported by the miraculous metal beneath his heels, not a single degree seeping through the ornately woven plating of the large circle that ran around the tower a dozen or so meters to his rear.

"Prepare for third phase." he spoke into his helmet's integrated gear as his gaze rose to the skies, the thick mist of steam above clouding virtually all vision. He smiled. The architects of this place had known their stuff. They'd built the Forgotten Sanctuary not only in the middle of a huge, permanent storm, but also in the caldera of an active supervolcano. The rain from above created a perpetual layer of mists that soaked up a great amount of heat, and from this heat-laden moisture power could be drawn so much more easily than from the liquid rock itself.

Truth be told, however, he didn't care too much about such things. What he held as important were what he stood upon this very moment: the lower layer of ring platforms that ran around each tower structure in this place - or at least the ones that sat directly in the lava and not on the rocky rim of the caldera, connected by bridges much like those above the steamy mists. While he couldn't guess at the purpose of the large number of ring platforms that looked like they should've held towers, but instead stood empty (normally he wouldn't have cared, but the fact that they outnumbered their tower-carrying 'cousins' by a rather respectable factor did at least tickly his curiosity), they gave Cynic a deft advantage in this battle, for with their aid he could move the men and women of the Overwatch unseen. Combined with the intelligence blackout he'd arranged, this allowed him to strike at just about any point of the Forgotten Sanctuary with no warning at all. This was strategy. This was his forte. And he smiled again.

This is my kung-fu. And it is strong.

"Engage." he spoke that word with purpose, his helmet's HUD giving him as much real-time data as the his divisions could gather. By now, the heroes had been lured from the former Malta command center, which gave Captain Salvius the perfect opportunity to take hold of it. Once that had been accomplished, Cynic would state his ultimatum: Vanguard forces would stand down and turn over what they'd taken from the Twilight Men, otherwise the Overwatch would not only destroy the central structure, but also carry out their backup plan. Unbeknownst to anyone else, the Commander had sent most of his Aether Pilots back to the convention hall within the Rikti capital, to capture as many of the representatives as they could. Trigen had already reported in with well over twenty hostages; more than enough for Cynic's purposes.

Of course, the Commander wasn't so naive to believe this plan would survive contact with the enemy. No...he'd carried things a whole lot further, even integrating the very real chance of Salvius' failure. Unlike in the average plot of this nature, however, the Captain stood well aware of this, and had agreed of his own free will. As far as Salvius was concerned, his life belonged to the Overwatch, and he would carry out any order without the slightest question. But whether his part ended in success or failure, one way or another it would create the situation Cynic had drawn up: Vanguard would find out about the Rikti captives and rush to save them in order to prevent re-ignition of their little war. Indeed, the Commander didn't much care what came of it after they'd somehow freed the hostages - only that they'd somehow, in some fashion (maybe even a most annoying deus ex machina) do so (for they always, always did), and that the time it would take them would give the Overwatch the opportunity to 'haggle down' their conditions to no more than a stand-down of vanguard forces here. Once that was done, the Overwatch Commander stood doubtlessly sure that his troops would find some clue, some lead that they'd missed this far, and then he could accomplish his objective.

"Hm?" Cynic's thoughts returned to the here and now as his ears perceived the impact of feet upon the platform to his rear, curious as he began to turn, "You're early. Did some-?"

The caustic, moist retch of metal rending flesh stole the breath from his lungs, the Commander's eyes torn wide as he beheld the pitch-black blade that now jutted from his chest.

"Sorry." he perceived the whisper's source in the corner of his eye: a set of predatory teeth, flanked by reptilian lips that held no scales, "But you're not in the plan. Nighty night."

And Cynic's world went black...

"And let this be my first great work of what I have become. A harbinger of aid, a site of refuge from the blight that in our folly we have sewn. To all in need, let this be your shield, let this be your sword, to serve you as it shall serve me, the cradle of my further toil. Let my Sanctuary stand as guard eternal, and hold life safe within its walls, now and for all time."

"Well sure, that sounds very nice and all..." Solid Shot remarked with a bob of his head as he cleaned his rifle, his back leaned against the chamber wall from which Sah'Teece had read the passage, "...but what's it mean?"

"Still trying to figure that out." Cory Simmons replied absent-mindedly, waving the fingers of a hand over the book he held in the other, magically moving the words he'd just added upon another page. He then looked up again, his eyes closely surveying the large tablet of Rikti glyphs before him, though he of course studied it with many more senses than merely sight, "Hmm...from what I can tell, this one is the oldest, so it was probably written first. So if we place it at the beginning of the ones we found so far..."

"...we still have squat." the humanoid robot completed the sentence with a sigh, "I keep telling you, we're better off looking for as many of these story-wall-things we can find, and then putting them in order."

"You're just tired of standing around while I write them down." the arcanist chuckled as he brought step to this feet again.

"Meh, guilty." Solid shrugged, following him after Sah'Teece had taken on stride again as well, "Besides, the way you quote-unquote write just makes my skin crawl."

"You do not have skin." the former diplomat remarked, somewhat puzzled, and caused the palm of Solid's free hand to make resounding contact with his forehead, followed shortly by a sound very close to that of a Clockwork robot ceasing operation.

Fortunately, with this last chamber, this tower had been catalogued as well, which meant that Vanguard now had a map of the entire Forgotten Sanctuary, save of course for the tower that Malta had blown sky-high in response to its Arachnos occupation. While sturdy, leading to the conclusion that it might not have crumbled completely, whatever did remain of the structure now sat deep in the steamy mists that floated between the many towers, and thus far they'd had no time to explore below the level of the fog as well.

"South airdock tower covered and catalogued." the arcanist reported as the trio once more entered the large chamber of the central tower structure that had been Malta's command center, Vanguard having set up their own equipment in the meantime. As Solid handed a datapad to the Lady Grey, who took it with a word of thanks, he took the time to add that the mentioned structure had also held the largest of the Forgotten Sanctuary's two (formerly three) crescent-shaped landing platforms, suggesting it had been some manner of main entrance. In addition, they'd found the same inscription on the beacon torches, and of course the latest passage Sah'Teece had translated.

"Let's see if we can't make ourselves a picture of this place then." Sheldon Wallace rubbed his hands together, swiveling his chair back to face the laptop now before him, the latest information from the data pad already uploaded into the local network. Penny Arcade sat laxly on the same former terminal, no one having trusted the Malta Group's equipment enough to take the risk of working with likely booby-trapped hardware, her suit forming her very own link with Vanguard's computers.

"There we are." Sheldon smiled with satisfaction as the 3-D map he'd been compiling reached completion, the green wireframe representation of the Forgotten Sanctuary clear as crystal upon its pitch-black background, "Now we won't feel like the poor sap in Doom anymore. Now we've got a map. You never got a map."

The map, however, hadn't been the only priority of the exploration teams, and while their primary mission had been to search for any remaining Malta Operatives, combat mechanoids, and the by-now expected Nemesis Army, the number of inscriptions into tablets of stone and metal here and there had been most intriguing indeed, and prompted the desire for a compilation of any they could find. Fortunately, they'd all survived the centuries in clear, in fact truly impeccable shape, the architect of this place having chosen the alloys and stone of its constituent structures with more than impressive wisdom. Even more monumental, however, was the tale stored in the recovered passages, which soon became apparent as Sah'Teece reconstructed several hundred years' worth of forgotten time, turning the wheels of time back to the days when the Rikti homeworld could've been a twin of the Earth that humans knew and loved, instead of the (for them) downright creepy world that it stood as now.

If the former diplomat was to be believed, and of this there came no doubt, it had all begun hundreds of years ago, long after those who'd seen fit to craft the humans of this world into the Rikti of today had departed, when the new civilization had discovered the ways of science. As had been the case with humanity, the magic granted by their gods had been the most important tool until this time, and while it by no means grew any less significant, the advances of magic could never seem to keep pace with the leaps and bounds by which science grew. The day soon came upon which the Rikti stood capable of sending their first ship to the stars, making contact with several far-flung civilizations, and heralding the rise of the Lineage of Science from the Lineage of Faith. The resulting exchange of knowledge only furthered the rampant growth of this relatively new force, and many more wonders of science came to be born at a truly staggering pace. However, with the creation of the Lineage of Science the Rikti had also sewn the seeds of division, forging a rift between those who honored science, the way of the new, and those who held faith in their gods, the way of the old.

As time ran its course, this rift grew ever wider as those upon the path of science forged ahead their progress, dismissing the concerns of the Lineage of Faith as the unfounded fears of those with no imagination. After all, if one did not progress, one would stagnate, and if one stagnated, one was lost. Even the warnings of those they had contacted between the stars, to seek a balance between the ways of new and old, went utterly unheeded, and this time by both sides. Before an intervention could take place, the spark had already ignited the fuel that was the animosity of the two great followings. The war had begun. Technological horrors and the darkest of ancient magics clashed against another for decade upon decade, wholly ravaging the planet. Those the Rikti knew among the stars tried time and again to end the conflict, but their efforts were in vain. Eventually, one by one, they severed their connections, leaving the unheeding Rikti to their fate.

Inevitably, the ways of science held sway greater, for the Lineage of Science could send their technology to battle in their stead, casualties quickly replaced by ever-greater numbers of murderous machines, while the Lineage of Faith relied upon their gods, who in contrast grew weaker with every worshipper slain by the unrelenting enemy. Science had won the war. In the process, however, the planet had become a wasteland. Stripped of so many resources, its lands soaked with the blood of the fallen as well as the toxins of technology and the very vilest of caustic magics, little more than a fifth of its surface remained habitable, and even these remaining lands wouldn't last for long. In less than a decade, the effects of the weapons that had ravaged the planet would render it utterly incapable of supporting any life, leaving behind nothing but a toxic wasteland cut to pieces by the scars of war. Unbeknownst to the Lineage of Science, however, a scant few of the faithful still existed. Led by the wisest of their number, they had fled to the wastelands to seek refuge there. She, however, had no desire to continue the senseless conflict, seeing that there could be no victory in a war such as this; that no matter who 'won', it would be hollow at best.

She saw their efforts to rebuild, but knew it would all be for naught, the resources they needed consumed and tossed to their machines of murder, turned to death and pestilence by the horrors of technology, good for nothing else. She, however, still held the last drops of power from the gods, and she had learned that which neither side had heeded for so long: she had learned to seek the balance. Now she toiled, worked with all she could, fusing the ways of new and old to create a means by which to restore life to her dying world. Upon completion, she launched her tools toward the heavens and watched them begin their long, great work, absorbing the toxins and pollution, cleansing the scourge of war from her world to the best of their ability, and allowing life to bloom anew...though it would never be the same. Slowly, gradually, as life returned, so did the Lineage of Science, now the dominant force upon this world. They had learned as well, and instead of seeking out the creators of the lights that floated in their skies at night, they too began to rebuild their shattered world. It took them many years, but their efforts brought success. Eventually, for the first time in ages, a Rikti ship rose to the stars once more. This time, however, it did not find friend. Instead, it found enmity; animosity, aggression. It had found foe. It had found the Battalion.

Unprepared for yet another conflict, the Rikti rallied all the same, the Lineage of War brought forth to defend their world in this time of need. Valiantly they fought, and for a time they held the enemy at bay. But in the end, it was simply not enough. The wonders of science had finally failed them, and the Battalion stood before their door. Their doom seemed all but certain.

"I could not stand idly by and watch that day," Sah'Teece gave voice to words written so very long ago, reading the text from the laptop's screen, "for my dreams were naught but nightmare, visions of the great catastrophe that would befall our world from the far reaches of the stars. Once more I set to work, forging my tools of cleansing into means to fight a battle. I watch them work, even now, praying that they shall succeed, that my visions come to pass as I have foreseen. I feel my life depart, the last of my power now with my creations, my energy now theirs to wield. I see them fall, but in my visions they stand strong, and even now I see their foes fall faster. Still, I leave this world with dread, for my visions speak of foe's return. I foresee a calamity still greater tear through our skies, and I can fight no more. To those whom heed my words, I speak to you now from beyond the grave. I plead to you: do not let this come to pass. Make use of my creations. Empower them, and in turn they shall empower you. Let my Sanctuary stand as guard eternal, and hold life safe within its walls, now and..."

"...for all time." Randall Grey finished the incomplete passage with solemn tone, his face a mask devoid of all emotion, "Damn..."

"Great." Toy Dispenser only spat sarcastically, "As if my friends getting all [censored] up wasn't enough. Now we gotta figure out how to deal with a meteor."

"Wait, what?" Solid Shot's cycloptix seemed to almost physically bulge at his mercenary counterpart, "Where the heck was there talk of a meteor?"

"Oh come on." the robotic mastermind merely sighed, arms crossed before his chest as he leaned his back dejectedly against a pillar, curled in a most irritated manner, "I've got a rock to get rolling. Calamity from the skies. That's a meteor, case closed."

"The assertion is quite logical." Toy Bot stated in his usual, emotionless manner, joined in affirmation by the large Combat Toy, "Yeah. Besides, the boss is always right."

"But I don't want a meteor to fall on my head." Block Bot complained passively, "I like my head the way it is."

"Then it's a good thing the Rikti have a space fleet these days." Sheldon remarked happily, surprised that few seemed to be sharing his optimism, "Hey, c'mon guys. Once the War dudes get their act together, there's no way a rock's getting the better of 'em."

"He's probably right." Panny nodded in support, "The Battalion attacked, what...a hundred years ago? Considering the pace at which we developed WMDs, a dumb old space rock shouldn't be a problem here."

"I'm not convinced." Toy Dispenser shook his head despite all this, huffing out his frustrations, "I've known these guys a while now, and when they set their minds to something, it-"

He never got the chance to end that sentence. The sudden blare of a low-key alarm klaxon simply let the argument stick in his figurative throat, the robotic mastermind's eyeless sight quickly taking note that all screens showing security camera footage had filled with naught but static...

((And a 'wandering band of Malta' doesn't seem 'un-Malta-ish'? Methinks your logic is a little flawed there. Anyways, things as they are, I'm going to wait for Soviet's word on this, and not only because I suspect the 'unguarded' room to be nothing but a death trap for people to fall into. ))

((Not in the game, no. Sometimes Zeus Titans do, but that's all I think...and I can't really say I'm comfortable replying to this, seeing how the Malta takeover is under Soviet's control. ))

((I know, but it's still the impression he wants to convey. ))

The Lady Grey

"We knew not whether to appraise this manner of conclusion with the term of victory. Verily, We still do not. Still, the facts remained quite clear: robbed of their robotic support and impeccable coordination, the forces of the Malta Group could not hold against our own for long. In retrospect, this may not be entirely proper, but in credit to the very necessary relief of pent-up pressure from one Randall Grey, the upper echelon of present Malta forces - aforementioned Codenames Dune Fort and Whiskey Tumbleweed - came to be defeated before long, which coupled with the departure of Mnemonyev all but shattered the command of Malta forces within the Forgotten Sanctuary. Their ultimate retreat followed most anon, and though they did succeed in masking their trail by demolition of their arrival gateway subsequent to their departure, the plans of Malta upon the Rikti homeworld had been, at the very least, crushed once and for all."

"Nevertheless..." a heavy sigh passed from her lips, "Victory stood certainly not as a term to appear swiftly in our minds, and if it had...it no doubt stood most bitter. Despite the safety of our own forces, including no losses on the part of Delta Team apart from robotic henchmen - thankfully not including those of Toy Dispenser; though like all examples thereof, some of them had been heavily damaged facing the elite of the encountered Malta Operatives - the death of Kerat at the hands of the SPC Detective had struck many of us with grave severity. Though this applied first and foremost to the secretive Sage, to whose heart the fallen reptilian had been close as a brother, he stood in the by no means alone. The ladies and gentlemen of the Security Council will hereby excuse the omission of such details at the request of the people most affected. Be aware, any appeals to the contrary shall be denied upon reception and without review. This topic is not up for discussion."

Despite these words, however, the keen observer could well discern that she counted herself very much amongst those of whom she spoke. Still, she continued to recount the facts, "Following the expulsion of the Malta Group from the Forgotten Sanctuary, our forces finally received a little over an hour of reprieve in the form of a most necessary cessation of nearly nonstop combat, which not only gave us time to study the mysterious texts discovered during our time in the facility of unknown purpose - found upon both the beacon torches of the airdock first encountered in addition to several more cryptically printed allegories - but also to investigate the crystalline energy within the rogue Delta Five, as well as make our first attempts to discern constructive meaning from the words of Mneomnyev. Unfortunately, the very initial example thereof, the reconstruction of the stick-like robot that we discovered from captured intelligence had posed as the intermediary of the Malta base commander, proved a most dismal failure, even in the capable hands of Sheldon Wallace and Penny Arcade. Despite the grasp Mr. Wallace held upon even the technology of the Rikti, the means employed by the Third Power, the organization led by Mr. Zero, operated in realms beyond even the knowledge of one such as him."

"Indeed, the once-more evident likeness of mentioned means to what we have come to understand as magic spurred the logical conclusion that we employ just such. Cory Simmons proved more than willing, but regrettably lacked the necessary expertise in the field of robotics to discern anything of value...and Archlich remained distantly cooperative at best. Whether this came to be by request of Toy Dispenser or his own free will, however, this we never did ascertain. Still, one thing stood without a doubt: held he any manner of answers, we would not receive them unless freely given. With yet another lead grown cold, we thus turned to the Lineage of War in an effort to remain proactive, several stronger members of the Rikti populace having by now managed to overcome their initial shock, and now stood by our side, willing to aid with all they had in what we soon made our top priority: the search for the Nemesis Army. With his Hro'Dtohz automaton gone rogue, and Malta no longer available to serve as the greater threat to divert focus, all of us stood certain that the brassen madman would push forward his efforts to subdue us before the remainder of the Rikti could actively support our efforts."

"Little did we know that said effort had been underway for such an extensive period of time, as well as in a manner so differing from the norm, that even those who held a great amount of experience in relation to his plots were taken by surprise..."

((Nope, just monomolecular edges. You needs to be stalking Babs moar. ))

"I don't - this does." was Henteko's enigmatic reply, "It's magic. Good question, though. I hadn't thought that far. Oh well. It's a mystery I'll figure out later. By myself. Because you will be dead."

Acid couldn't help but smirk with a shake of his head. Unlike Danny, he'd quickly gotten the gist that Henteko was the real deal; that he wanted people to believe him a would-be not to be taken seriously. He had to admit, it stood generally as a very effective strategy.

He couldn't wait to see what else this guy had up his sleeves...

((Since when do Talsorian weapons melt things? Monomolecular != exothermic. ))

"Oh, I caught some arrows a day last week, so don't worry about that." Henteko snickered with a dismissive wave to the hovering Danny, opting not to mention that he candidly meant an entire day, then turned to consider the door, a finger tapping to his chin, "And what to do indeed? So many options, so little time. Oh, decisions, decisions."

His other hand had already been in the process of tapping against the containers of his sneak suit's harness, finally reaching one that the ninja apparently thought acceptable, producing a narrow ampule from the compartment.

"Ahhh, it is perfect." he smiled broadly beneath his mask, eyeing the sleek, transparent container that held a sickly green fluid with the passion of a true connoisseur, "A true work of art."

Without awaiting anyone's approval or otherwise, Henteko pressed his thumb against the ampule's stopper for a few seconds, then held the thing against the door. A near-silent hiss echoed as the shifter cap ate its way effortlessly through the metal, the fluid within the container vaporizing into invisibility upon contact with air. It was gone in no time at all.

On the other side of the door, the now-airborne neurotoxin would most likely take immediate effect, paralyzing even augmented humans in mere fractions of a second, and with only a tiny amount of its constituent particles. Gas masks provided virtually no protection, and indeed not many countermeasures to chemical warfare did against such a unique brand of toxin. Moreover, once in gaseous form, the toxin grew inert within the next twelve seconds, which meant that once the ninja followed through with his plan of removing the ampule, then sticking an optic cable through the hole, the gas no longer presented any threat...

((Okay, we have a little more than 12 seconds to talk before we see what's on the other side. Take it or leave it. ))

Naught but the shallow luminance of monitor banks greeted the team as they squeezed through the doors. The tall, circular chamber's long shadows seemed to all but reach for them across the alien floor, a radial pattern of stone and metal melded so seamlessly that it bordered on true art. In fact, the entire room carried the arrangement, including the ceiling overhead, which curved efficiently into the darkness of the massive hole that sat at center. At least two dozen meters across, it formed the beginning of a shaft that ran up and into pitch-black darkness, and covered nearly half the chamber. This in turn meant the placement of monitors upon a relatively small section of the far wall nonetheless stood respectably large, their pale-blue luminescence more than enough to give the room a bit of adequate lighting.

Still, shadows and darkness prevailed in many places, especially up against the banks, almost seeming to watch and linger as the intruders came to tread within their realm. To be sure, the titanic statue that sat in part within a niche above said monitors stood as the worst of it, and more than one of them just about physically felt the cold, lifeless eyes of stone cast their piercing stare right through them. It wasn't human, nor was it Rikti. No, the sculpted being had been much, much larger, and more than uncannily resembled one that some members of the group knew quite well indeed.

"Vyachslav?" Toy Dispenser couldn't help but utter in a skeptical undertone, more than confused at the appearance of this here. To him, there wasn't a doubt at what it represented, for the sculptor had captured every last detail of the original in immaculate perfection, giving the stone a striking level of conviction. The original proportions had been kept as well, the statue nearly the size of an F-14, and this created an image that stood most stark indeed. The dragon-like physique appeared in but skeletal divisions, and the true nature of the inspiration came flawlessly to light in its delicate, slim dimensions, the arms and legs decidedly long, even against the lean, compact torso. The long, pointed skull, which somewhat resembled that of a Pterodactyl, spoke truth in its every aspect too, and while the lidless eyes stood doubtlessly as its most foreboding features, the open, lipless jaws that brimmed with rows of long, sharp teeth certainly carried and an air of the ominous as well.

Without a doubt, the statue's entire stance seemed to hold a blatant, tangible threat, perched within its niche, the three frontward claws of its feet curled to grip the edge, the unseen claw that formed the heel stanched as if to spring at any given moment, and the four long, clawed digits of both hands reaching menacingly toward chamber's gate while the lengthy tail sat curled against the wall, as if to facilitate motion even more rapid than the statue's crouching legs. Truly, the only thing that kept Toy form the belief that he now saw its original was the sculpture's lack of wings, a set of long, almost cylindrical pylons laid close against the statue's back instead, connected to the upper shoulders where said wings should have.

Still, why was it here? Sure, judging from its intimidating stance, its placement stood clearly in the purpose of warding off unwelcome guests...but what sort might those have been, all those years ago? Moreover, did this mean Vyachslav's people came from here? Or had been here? Or...stop! Toy's head already spun with too many questions as it was. Even a cybernetic brain could only take so much. As Randall's probing glance caught his attention, the robotic mastermind only shook his head as his reaction, "Nothing. Statue looks like someone I know is all."

"Someone?!" Penny's incredulous tone demanded in a gasp, the young woman having been unable to take her eyes off the stone beast, "You mean that's not a...?"

"Later." Grey raised the palm of a large hand, "We've got a job to do. Keep your eyes out for the Slinger. My guess is he'll throw more 'bots at us any mo..."

"...hear me..." a sudden crackle from the tanker's communicator sounded to interrupt his words, the team quickly listening in as Penny tried to boost the clarity, "...andy, can you hear me? Randy, this is Matt, come back. Do you read? Randy, can you hear me?"

"I read." Grey answered somberly as he spotted the man in the shadows by the monitor banks, his grim gaze locked to the duster-wearing silhouette. Apparently, the figure now realized he'd been seen, stepping forward with a gradual, purposeful gait, "Make it quick. I'm staring down the Slinger right now, and-"

"Randy...Slinger..." the transmission began to crackle again, and Grey could practically see the smile beneath the man's mask now, grumbling into the receiver, "Matt, you're breaking up. Say again."

"...that's not the Slinger!"

"How very, very perceptive." echoed through the chamber in a hollow tone, and the man came into light, tossing his duster aside to reveal the form of but a humble Operations Officer, "I thought I could fool you just a little bit longer. But I suppose all good things must come to an end.. Like your transmission."

"You got it, boss." another voice rang through the chamber, and this one without a doubt did not come from the man, but from the monitor banks behind him. Even as Mad Matt's connection faded into static yet again, Ryat66 ran the spoken words through his memory banks, swiftly identifying the soft, male tone as quite familiar: the creature that was inside the Portal Corporation supercomputer.

"Okay." Randall growled irritably, knowing none of this yet. Still, he kept his calm. The guy hadn't shot yet, and he was all alone. Maybe, just maybe, this meant he could talk him down, "So what now? You. Alone. Against all of us? Not exactly good odds."

"Oh, I very much agree." the Officer merely chuckled in response, "Then again, I could ask the same of you. In fact, I think I will. How do you intend to stop me? I know all the doors, hold all the keys, and there isn't a way in hell you're going to con-"

A sound of thunder cracked through the air as the Ryat Unit's energy beam rammed into its target, flooring the Malta Operative and tearing apart several smaller monitors as it lanced over and beyond.

"It's a double fake-out!" the android exclaimed as Randall's head whipped about, clarifying his reasoning as he charged another shot, "No way that's the base commander."

"What?!" Grey's eyes went wide in response. This was getting way too wild - he already couldn't believe the whole deal with the Hro'Dtohz automaton, and now another twist was being pulled on him?! This was...oh yeah, he wanted to punch something right now. Where was an evil robot when you needed one?

"What're you looking at me for?" Toy Dispenser queried suspiciously at the deadly glimmer in the tanker's eye, but a moment later Randall had already turned back to Sixty-Six, wanting to know that if the Operations Officer wasn't the base commander, then who in blazes was? The console behind him?

"Guahahahaha...!" the disembodied voice laughed madly as it answered in place of the Ryat unit, "Not quite, but you are very close. Not that it's going to matter, you know. As soon as my friend here gets back to his feet, he is going to kill you."

"Oh, so we're a necromancer now, are we?" Commander Cynic spat the remark at the machine with great distaste, the smoldering Operations Officer very visibly down and smoking on the floor there, "Fine, get your pal back...wait a minute, what am I saying?!"

Too late. The Commander had already invoked the law of Murphy. With a mighty spasm, the fallen Officer's rib cage burst apart, and the Vario unit left its cocoon mask behind, sliding its sleek metallic body from the now-useless flesh. The resulting mechanoid stood just a little shorter than its former 'self', but consisted of nothing more than a collection of thin and lanky rods, what passed for its head a short stock with a single, sapphire-blue lens. Despite being covered in blood and gore, the ridiculously lanky robot stepped from the remains of the cocoon mask with barely any effort, its delicate-looking toes setting themselves securely against the bare plates of the floor even as its fingers still rotated to their new configuration. In stark contrast to its decidedly mobile innards, the left-behind body no doubt lay still once more, now resembling a rubbery costume to a frighteningly great extent.

"Hello again." the mechanoid quipped with an underlying chuckle, its now fully active energy shield easily repelling the blasts both Sixty-Six and Cynic sent toward it, "My, how rude. We're going to have to do something about that."

Like a coiled spring, the Vario unit vaulted from floor to ceiling and back down again...and right into Toy's detention field. Judging by the obscenities the mechanoid now spouted, the fight was over before it began.

"Sorry." the robotic mastermind snickered sarcastically, "Reflex."

"Killjoy." Cynic grumbled, placing his blade mace against his shoulder as the team advanced upon the monitor console, "Now what?"

"Leave that to me." Penny huffed with confidence, already manipulating the settings of her suit upon an interface of her left gauntlet. She'd grown a little paler at the whole display, but it only seemed to have made her more determined than before, "They haven't invented the computer I can't crack."

"Oh, I'm shaking in my boots." the monitor banks cackled, "Oh wait...I'm not wearing boots..."

"Then you're going to wish you were." Ryat66 growled as he stepped beside to Penny Arcade, assisting her in prying surface panels loose and jacking into the system while he confirmed that this was indeed not a person using some manner of remote link, but an actual AI program; the very same one that had jammed the portal to the Jade Moon and caused them so much grief throughout the entire expedition.

Penny worked feverishly, knowing well that every second counted, that any moment now Toy might lose his grip on the detention field (the Vario unit had gone downright berserk, blasting energy bolts into the walls of its energetic prison with alarming zeal), or that the Malta right outside might make it past their teammates...maybe even...no, she didn't even want to think about that. She had to focus on this, and nothing else. They were doing their job so she could do hers, and this she kept repeating to herself as she pushed her programming skills to their very limits, fingers flying to strike at the entity within the machinery by means past the understanding of so very many people - but apparently not her opponent.

"Oh, nice try." mocked another giggle, her adversary matching blow for unseen blow, "I do wonder: how long can you keep this up? Me? I can keep going for eternity. Are you prepared for that? I didn't think so. Oh come now, you can do better than that...were you serious just there? Really now, that was just insulting. How do you intend to defeat me if you can't even...?"

Penny only countered with her silence, ignoring the heckling of the entity. Others managed to discount them with the same, stoic detachment. Randall Grey, however, wasn't one of them.

"You." he snarled at the Vario unit in annoyance, large granite slabs once more building over him while fists ground their rocky fingers against one another, "I'm getting really close to just forgetting myself here, so unless you start giving me some nice and simple answers, we're going to see just how resistant you are to being folded into a big pretzel, you got that?!"

The robot, however, showed itself less than impressed, continuing its attempts to escape the detention field - and succeeded. With an elated whoop, the machine threw itself against the tanker, its sharp fingers and toes digging into and through the protective granite shell. Not a moment later, the expected consequences took their toll, Randall's fist ramming the mechanoid off and away like so much filth, beam fire from Cynic, Toy, and even Ryat66 lancing not a second after, striking the still-flying Vario unit and ramming it into the wall. Very much against everyone's expectations, it did not stand again.

"Brilliant." its severed 'head' grumbled with an almost visible roll of its blue lens, "Should've used another type. Oh well. You still can't win. We've taken every precaution. Nothing in the world can stop us, and that includes you."

"Oh yeah?" Penny at last spoke once more, hissing through her teeth, "Then how about something from a thousand?!"

A horrid cry of infinitely many tones roared through the chamber the very next instant, and sparks came flying from the monitor banks with respectable intensity. The Vario unit's vehement objections downright drowned in the cacophony, and even what now came to pass could not pierce the thunderous cascade. The rain of slate, however, certainly caught their attention; the myriad of tiny, rocky slabs raining from above eclipsing so very many sparks that sputtered from the monitors. Penny could scarcely believe her eyes as the statue above her came to unreal life, crashing from its stony skin with a luster of black metal, its lidless eyes ablaze with bright, venomous green while it sent a massive, clawed hands rushing down, in her eyes directly at her.

Frozen in shock, she could only watch as the fingers rammed their way into the very floor she'd stood upon mere moments before, only the speedy reaction of the Ryat unit hurling her to safety in the nick of time. Nevertheless, the collision with a floor that rose up to meet them was by no means pleasant, both Penny as well as Sixty-Six finding themselves off their feet and staring down the ex-statue that loomed so menacingly above them. Indeed, they weren't the only ones, and a long, arduous silence fell like a veil of serenity once the consequences of her actions ebbed away, the monitors now filled with no more than static. For several seconds, the grind of the titanic being pulling its fingers from the gouge it had torn into the floor stood as the chamber's only sound.

"Vyachslav." Toy was the first to speak, pressing his elbows against the ground that had caught his skipping back, his faceless head wearing an almost visible visage of boundless distaste. He'd uttered that word with truly soulless tone.

"No." the reply came from the Vario unit instead of the one he'd addressed, though the being's glowing eyes doubtlessly had focused upon the robotic mastermind, "I am Mnemonyev."

"So I finally get to meet the big brother." Toy Dispenser couldn't help but chuckle as he slowly stood, knowing well that Mnemonyev would regard him as a minimal threat...at best. Nevertheless, his hands stayed copiously distant from his pulse rifle, and a vivid glare to Cynic informed the man to mind his manners just the same, "So then, it's come to this, has it?"

"It has." the downed mechanoid kept on speaking in the stead of whom it represented, "I admit, it is regrettable. You could have left when Acid told you so."

"And leave two billion people to be murdered?" Randall Grey scowled ardently, having been the only one who'd managed to keep his footing, "Over my dead body. Now, I'm tired, so let's just get this over with: say 'that can be arranged' already and bring it on."

The Vario chuckled once more, giving but one word as Mnemonyev's comeback, "No."

"No?" Penny was the first to utter this, the group taken so aback, "You just tried to kill me! That do you mean, no?!"

"No means no." came the cool and calm reply, a smile almost floating in its tone, "You wrecked my network, and with my robots down, Vanguard will very soon take control of this location. But that's alright. I don't need it anymore."

With that, the pylons upon his shoulders burst apart, deploying rapidly into large, skeletal structures of metallic black that greatly resembled the wings of a bat, expanded to the superlative. Not moments later, luminous energy arced between their 'fingers', of the same bright, venomous green, and the wings stood complete, their supporting structures joined by 'skin' of not flesh, but pure energy instead.

"Now please do excuse me." Mnemonyev mocked with the voice of the Vario unit, "I've a rock to get rolling."

Not awaiting a reply, he lurched from the ledge of his niche with impressive speed, spread his wings smoothly in the process, and up the ceiling shaft he went with utmost ease. No one tried to stop him. Not even Cynic. Dogged in his duty as the Commander was, he knew when it was a dumb idea to antagonize an opponent such as this, especially in the middle of leaving you alone. His blade mace only sank slowly to his side.

"I don't get it." Penny muttered in disbelief as she too stood once more, turning toward Toy, who already guided his steps toward the gate, "What...who was that? And why didn't he talk?"

"Another person I...I thought I knew." the robotic mastermind retorted with a miserable glance at the now-offline Vario unit, "As for that...he doesn't talk. Never did. Damn...kind of sad...that's the only thing I'm still sure of..."

"Or..." the voice of Kaze Henteko spoke from apparently nowhere before his form seemed to peel out of thin air not far from Alyssa and Acid, "You could come talk to me."

True, it wasn't immediately obvious just who this man was, now donning a sneak suit consisting of a gray-and-black arrangement of stealth wardrobe, including a full head mask and a pair of what appeared to be tightly fitting night vision goggles - not to mention that he now carried a rather impressively large sword on his back, which almost looked like a composite zanbato, consisting of two fused 'impervium katanas', as people called that blade style these days. The voice, however, more than gave it away, at least for Acid.

"Louie!" he grinned broadly, sending a twitch through the man as he remembered his first encounter with the reptilian, but calmed quickly when Acid didn't start toward him, instead pointing a finger, "Heh, gotcha. Say...how did you manage to sneak up on me?"

"Oh, that was easy." Hateko crossed his arms, his tone taking on a hard, deep, and curt nature, like the one people tended to use when pretending to be ninja masters and such, "I am ninja-man. Ninja ninja. With the power of...ninja."

"Okay, so I have a very good cloaking device." his voice returned to normal in response to the Khelari's 'I know better' smirk, "And I know how to mask my presence using my chi. And how to move silently. And how to not smell like anything..."

"Huh." Acid remarked not long after both he and Hotaka were sure that they were in fact out of earshot from anyone else, "I didn't think that'd work. He should've known that without your PIN, the card's pretty much useless."

"Mm-m." the towering Oriental only shrugged, leaving the matter at that as he chuckled, "Heh, I still can't believe you tried to bribe him over like that. Not many people think of that, you know. It's always fight, fight, fight with these guys."

"Guess you're right." the Khelari smiled maliciously, "But you know me: I'm always for a...waaait a minute. You're saying that if they had tried to...?"

Hotaka only smiled as he gave a curt nod, "Yup."

"...and you would've just given..."

"Yup." came another nod, this time accompanied by a shrug of his palms, "Hey, I want to know what's in that box too, you know. Sadly, I'm not allowed to look inside while I'm supposed to be guarding it."

The reptilian only smiled with closed eyes while shaking his head. Truth be told, it was probably something he would've done too.

They reached the upper decks again not long after...

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

"Finding a crewman with the key?" Acid queried with a shrug of shoulders as Alyssa and he finally caught up with the gone-ahead Danny, "Just a suggestion..."

[ QUOTE ]
To give an update for everyone, I do have a list (excluding a couple recent additions that I need to save on the file) in the order that everyone requested in and was "saved".

[/ QUOTE ]
Whew, okay - for a moment there I thought Shrike and I had gotten here too late.

I for one enjoyed it very much. Bravissimo.

The Lady Grey

"To say that we then faced an arduous journey that held many a perilous battle would be an understatement of monumental proportions. The clandestine combatants of the Malta Group ardently refused to give in, and far from defeated stood resolute time and again, supported in even greater numbers by the robotic henchmen of their base commander. The combat tactics employed against our forces allowed them unprecedented efficiency, and solely because of the sheer determination of Delta Team did we nonetheless prevail. However, take this by no means to signify that victory stood in any way assured, for though we progressively pushed our way through man and machine who sought to trounce the power of Delta Team with strategy - uncannily effective strategy, but only such nonetheless - the elite forces deployed against us once Malta became less confident of our ultimate defeat proved more than an even match."

"The Delta 4 Titan, predecessor unit to the previously encountered Delta 5, emerged to challenge us in due time, barring entry to the tower in which Our forces had triangulated the position of the Malta command and control center. It struck with all the violence we had come to expect, and we without a doubt held fast, but when its successor unit entered the fray for a third time, defeat seemed all but certain. Unfortunately...for Malta, that was...it seemed their Titan had gained a differing opinion of the metahuman in its prior battle against the Delta Team division led by Toy Dispenser. Citing a corruption of its primary control hardware, the human brain within the machine had taken over after the secondary battle computer it had relied upon became critically damaged in said engagement and could no longer function."

"Of most intriguing nature, however, was that this 'corruption' seemed to be the very same crystalline energy that had twisted both Mr. Zero and Kerat, leading several investigative minds among us to create a number of novel theories regarding the inherent character of this substance - in the Delta 5, it had brought out the true personality of the human brain trapped inside the mechanical monstrosity. Did this mean that Mr. Zero had spoken the truth when he had uttered his statements on the Jade Moon? Candidly, it was a truly frightening proposal. Regretfully, it was not one we could consider at this point in time. Leaving 'our' Titan with support from Alpha Team, Delta Team moved on and into the command tower, and made due haste in reaching the control chamber of the Malta Operatives."

"Of course, who should expect us there but further elite forces of the clandestine organization, specifically a Tactical Operatives Commander by the designation Dune Fort 1-1-2 and a Special Qualification Marksman codename: Whiskey Tumbleweed 3-4-9. The deadly duo threw not a moment to the anticipated threats or banter, instead engaging us the very moment Mr. Grey wrenched apart the reinforced gates of the command center with a veritable tidal wave of resistance and denial. We returned their favor in kind, and very soon yet another instance of pitched combat had erupted, and with no end in sight. Fortunately for us, at one point during the battle, an Operations Officer made a critical mistake, loudly giving order to a fire team set up near another of the colossal, ornate gates that led to and from the chamber - that under no circumstances should we be allowed to pass to an individual he referred to as 'the Commander'. Needless to say, the breach of said gate became an immediate priority."

"Though execution thereof entailed a much greater degree of difficulty than its statement, splitting the team once more in due course granted us access to the chamber within which we now suspected the Commander. While several members of Delta Team, as well as Our person, stayed behind to interfere with the attempts of the elite Malta Operatives at stopping a small number of individuals from striking a breach through the aforementioned gate, said heroes did just that. What they found beyond, however, truly exceeded even the wildest expectations of every last one of us..."

"It's a really old way of saying that nothing's absolute." Acid clarified for Alyssa's benefit, "I think you had a guy figure that out a while back: Einstein. And don't worry about it. That'll change...eventually."

"Of course, there will always be those aliens that don't make sense no matter what." he chuckled with a broad grin, looking to the woman with a much saying expression...

I'll throw my hat in with Gata there. One for me please, if you'd still like to go for my piece.

"T..." Rosalind cautiously approached the still-crouched Thermoplast, his large, rain-soaked cape having fallen around him like a mantle of white, "T, please don't..."

"Thysthe." came the feeble response, the tears having finally ebbed. Upon the were-human's inquiry to repeat, he in fact did so, speaking in a more perceivable volume, "Thysthe. That's my name. That's who I am. The monster I am."

His voice carried a great melancholy; eyes locked against the lifeless oculae of the gutted reptilian, the man unable to take his gaze from what his hands had wrought.

"Thysthe then." Rosalind continued her cautious stride, though her claws had once more been brought into their passive stance, eventually reaching her place beside the stricken Detective, squatting beside the man as she kept on their conversation. Some time passed, but finally she managed to talk him away from Kerat and toward the edge of the platform, continuing to appeal to his judiciousness in an attempt to persuade him of his heart's true nature - not exactly her specialty, she had to admit, but there simply wasn't anyone more suited for the job right now.

Balsk for one wanted nothing to do with it, swallowing as he reached to his own throat for a moment, the full extent of the damage to Kerat now completely unobscured. He cast a glance to Archlich, but the undead sorcerer only shook his skinless head. Even the wiles of the dark arts could no longer render aid at such a time time, he explained. The Khelari was dead and gone, no doubt about it.

"Damn..." the bronze-scaled draconian heard the breathless tone of Sage, arriving in the arms of Combat Toy, the large assault bot having carried him this far, now releasing the dragon-like being to the whims of the floor.

His leg almost instantly gave way, and only due to the efforts of Penny Arcade did Sage manage to stay upright. Thick bandages now wrapped about a good part of his head, covering one eye, ran diagonally across his chest, and held tight the hole Kerat had sliced into his abdomen. Still more had been set around his tail, right ankle, and left arm, all of them already stained with the dirty brown of coagulated blood. In short, he presently bore a truly pitiful appearance. Nevertheless, this did not deter him from limping to the eviscerated form of one he'd once called friend, deep sadness plainly palpable within his pupils.

"What the...?" said pupils soon narrowed though, Sage having taken note of the odd curl that graced the very back of Kerat's bloodstained lips. Taken decidedly aback, he couldn't help his suspicions, instinctively bending down beside the fallen reptilian to pull his eyelids shut, questioning in quiet monologue, "You're smiling, aren't you? What are you smiling at?"

By now, however, several members of Delta Team had been forced to admit that time still worked against them, and that the Malta Operatives that occupied the aged Rikti complex still required foiling before they could bring their plans full circle. The Lady Grey's approving sigh stood as the final catalyst. With Kerat gone, they had lost all connection to the elixir she required to survive the day - at least for now. Randall assured her that they would do all in their power to remedy this state of affairs, but for now stayed true to her orders and gathered up his team again.

"I..." Balsk answered hesitantly as it came his turn to report, "I think I'll stay a little while. Make sure T...and Rosie get back to a ship okay."

As the rest departed, however, the draconian instead stepped beside his dark-scaled 'cousin', casting but a fleeting glance at his comrades at platform's edge. He knew he couldn't help there, at least not presently. He'd only be getting in the way of Rosie's already tenuous attempts at salvaging the sanity of Thermoplast, and Balsk definitely didn't want anything to go awry. Like most of the SPC, he'd grown sensibly attached to the former bounty hunter (though he was of course loathe to admit so publicly, which would have brought tarnish to his very independent image), and didn't like the idea of the man's possible futures buzzing about in his head one bit.

"So..." he turned his attention to Sage as an alternative, his eyes once more focusing upon the large pair of scars upon his back, despite Balsk desiring very much to look away. His wings began to itch again, causing him to tense their musculature in instinct, the steady rain now a most welcome diversion, "..find anything?"

Despite one of said large scars now hidden away by the bandages that wrapped all about the black-scaled being, Balsk still vividly remembered the first time he'd laid eyes upon them back in the dome chamber, having grown physically sick in his stomach at the sight, a dreadful cold racing up his spine. Being a draconian individual, it stood obvious to him that those scars lay where Sage's wings should have, and bore a truly barbaric appearance. The conclusion looked more than clear to him: his wings had been surgically removed. No, that was too kind a phrase. They'd been ripped from the guy's body, joints and all, in a procedure Balsk had only shuddered to imagine; which had been his first, automatic response to this observation.

"I didn't talk." Sage only answered calmly, his tone dispassionate as could be while the rain ran down his hide, soaking into the bandages to bring to his wounds a welcome cool, "Yeah, I know what you're looking at there. A lot of people do. They caught me, you know. Wanted Kerat. He'd already left with Acid at the time, and through Kerat they hoped to get to him."

Balsk didn't say a word, garbing himself in silence in the stead of voice. He knew well just whom Sage spoke of.

"But I didn't talk." a tear of his own now mixed with the rain that ran over his face, "He was my friend...no, more...and I wanted to protect him. They went for my claws, my teeth. Yanked 'em out one at a time, slow as possible. But I didn't talk. So they wrenched out my wings. Tore 'em right from my back. I must've screamed to high heaven."

"But you didn't talk." Balsk completed the next sentence, the deep bond that had existed between these two only now dawning on him in its full significance.

"But I didn't talk." Sage repeated with a nod, his claws running across Kerat's flayed jacket, "I would've died for them. They didn't like my views, but that didn't change a thing. I never felt different...about any of them. But now...why did you attack me? Why do you cause me such pain? What kind of force could compel you to do something like this?"

Sage cried as well now, Balsk having swiftly realized that he'd switched from addressing him to speaking to the corpse. As he tried to avert his eyes, knowing to what else to do, however, he noticed something in a pocket of the fallen Khelari: a small transparence foil, sticking out just enough to give it a tiny measure of note.

"It's a log." Sage explained tonelessly as he retrieved the symbol-laden foil that Balsk had pointed it out. Still, it took several seconds for it to dawn on him, the draconian finally gasping in disbelief, "It's a log!"

"Can you read it?" the SPC's dragonman wanted to know, "I mean, maybe translate?"

"I think so." Sage hypothesized, his eyes already wandering through the symbol groups, and soon he began to read what stood there in English. In just a few minutes' time, however, he stopped without warning, his voice seeming to have choked his throat from one moment to another.

Indeed, it took him several seconds to regain his composure, his tone a hollow echo as he turned to Balsk, "This part here's a prophecy..."