DeviousMe

Issue: settled. Cease: usurpation: discussion topic. Negative: RiktiThought.

Early posting is early. >_> But yes, I am quite young, heh. Only turned 21 a while back.

And that's such a lie! *hides gregarious amount of nukes, Shivans, and HVAS units* I demand you rescind your accusations of falsity!

But back on track - personally, I've never looked at my characters as all that tough. In my opinion, only Mnemonyev and Vyachslav qualify there, but like Blood's giant monster class character, they're not really comparable with the average PC.

I can't even say the ones that are brutes and tankers in the game are as such in threads. While diverse, the AT system is still quite limiting, so I'll usually just write said character as the person they are based on is - with as many or as little capability as the 'real' counterpart possesses. Whether blaster or brute, if they've got armor, they've got armor, if they've got shields, they've got shields - and if they don't pay attention and get whacked over the brain case, chances are they're gonna suffer from it no matter what anti-stun power the in-game AT has.

Some people may chide me on this view, but I find it much more fun than wedging myself into the little niches the ATs provide. But as always, YMMV.

Hm, I feel I should add the distinction between tough characters and actual godmoding here. Like Blood_Wolffe said, tough characters are fine, just be nice and take like one out of 3 hits or so.

The actual term 'godmoding' I find to be generally more defined as 'taking control' - usually of something one shouldn't have control over, such as (as HaloInc already stated) the reaction of an opponent to a strike of your character. I think this is really the big one: having other people's characters do something the person behind them has not given consent to. Even if it's just sitting around and doing nothing as someone else monologues; and especially if it doesn't make sense. Time does pass in RP threads. That's why I try to generally (not always, of course) keep my characters' actions to a timeframe of one to five seconds. It seems like a reasonable time span until the other person's reaction.

Okay, that may have gotten overly complicated for basic courtesy. Ah well, Halo already covered the basics of that, so I won't restate them.

As for a critique...boh, to be honest, it's been so long since I've been in a thread with you that I barely even recall your writing style. However...

O hay, lookit what I found!

That should probably serve you better than this thread.

And as for Experiment, my bad. I thought DA represented his battle armor. Oopsie.

"Actually, Osh'kan don't utilize robotics." Vern informed the Ryat unit has he returned, the car's connector door closing just as seamlessly by unseen had as it had before.

The Krayten, however, stood in crass difference to earlier. His hide no longer bore any semblance to its deep-green former state, a hue of snowy white that held the texture of finely ground stone having taken its place. Every bit of the quadruped's hide had been layered over, even the claws of his feet and the lids of his eyes, the coating staying in perfect synchronization with every move of a muscle, every ripple of his skin.

The collar about his neck formed no exception, blending seamlessly with the rest of his new coat, even the jewel of former azure in its brooch now looking more akin to blank white stone than anything else...

RARR, you people and making posts in this thread! Every time I see it move, I get all excited because I think Acendant wrote another section, and then it's just this. Curse you allllll!

I believe I might have a solution there: PDA. As far as I've gotten, PDA is basically sentient and very well capable of independent action, not to mention having a great deal more common sense than its creator.

Due to PDA being a machine, I'd imagine it can react to things at the speed of electricity (or whatever powers it), so if PDA had partial or (temporarily) full control over the functions of Experiment's battle armor, it could probably bail him out in such situations.

I mean, in game he's Dark Armor, right? That's got some decent resistances in it as well as a little defense, so I don't think it's a long stretch at all for having, say, Murky Cloud absorb enough of that laser for Experiment to live - he'd probably still get hurt, but not enough to outright kill the guy.

Ah, good. Then you'll have no trouble seeing this when I ask you to have the courtesy not to hijack other people's threads for your own purposes. If you'd like to argue with me, please do so in PMs, as I already pointed out earlier.

Well, if you haven't told anyone, how should they know? For all it's worth, they probably thought that was your concept for that character and never even got the idea you'd like to change that as time went on. Most people's characters are very static and don't really change or grow from their experiences - by extension, this leads to people not usually wanting to 'mess' with someone else's concept, thereby bringing about feelings of ire and intrusion.

My suggestion is that you find one or more people to actively get involved in this, and that you inform them OOC that you really do wish your character to change. Otherwise, they'll likely just go, "Neat concept." and move on with their own business.

Yeah, I know he can't read it. I just felt like making people aware that they should talk things out so these kinds of things don't happen.

And what do you mean, impossible to hold. I remember...no, wait, that was a sleep...there was the time when...no...when the thing with the person...wait, no that was a stun...but but but...

FINE! *shakes fist* You win this round, Diov. But I shall return, count on it! *trips over cape* Ow...not my grandest exit.

As for the situation, it's buried somewhere or another a long while back. Averick deleted his posts, but if you rifle through mine, you can probably find it. It boiled down to: dude attacks me with poison hold, second dude attacks with taunt, I resist hold, don't bother with taunt because my next move was pbaoe, and use Force Bubble. Disappointing, I know - you were probably expecting a nuclear warhead that runs on pencil shavings and aluminum foil - but that's about the size of it.

Oh please, you want to bring that one up again? Well fine, if you're so inclined.

1) Holds are resistable, even in-game.

2) Taunts are resistable as well.

3) Both need to hit to affect.

Of course, if we're Averick, we don't need to bother taking that into consideration. We just scream 'godmode', get mad, and start deleting posts without bothering to have an actual discussion. Yeah, now that's real courteous, isn't it?

Had you bothered to discuss things with me instead of going, 'do what I say or else', then put me on ignore I might even have considered editing my post. But since you obviously had no interest in actually showing this courtesy, (and it would seem that you still do not), I decided it wasn't worth my time.

Oh yeah, that's something you really shouldn't do: put people on ingore when they would like to have a chat with you about things. Excellent courtesy guideline to remember.

So tanks are tauntbots, defenders are healers, scrappers are yum, blasters snipe and KABOOM, and controllers can do anything they want.

Misty, no offense, but I find myself shaking my head at this. This is like something people in WoW do...not in CoH. Our ATs are so much more, especially on teams. I do hope you come to appreciate that someday.

Or such was the plan.

While Ineffable had indeed completed his attempt of recalling the enemy mechanoid to his position before it took to the air, there had been no guarantee of success. In addition, he may have noticed the machine carried a rather non-standard internal structure. It would seem that even though the robot looked like any average Assault Bot type out there, the Slinger had performed extensive modifications. Of course, this only applied if Ineffable could even differentiate the properties of objects he attempted to teleport in the first place.

Still, luck had been in his favor; as well as Solid Shot's. Ineffable emerged victorious, and the mechanoid quickly found itself on the bridge and stuck to the ground by a polarized electric field.

Combat Toy, however, did not share this luck. While the targeted part sliced easily enough under his wrist blade, the enemy mechanoid's frame turned out to be tougher than it looked. The plasma blasts weren't hot enough to liquefy its head, although a large torrent of exterior facial coating flaked away in the wake of the split stream, the material underneath aglow in radiant crimson.

In addition, the missile launchers upon its shoulders could still very much fire, although they had to wait to do so until after Combat Toy had concluded its plasma assault. A pack of swarm missiles roared at the offending machine from point-blank range, seeking to blast it off and clear of the Malta mechanoid.

Acid, however, still fired (likely much to the confusion of those about him), but it now became quite clear the assault bot hadn't been his target. Instead, the energy round blew apart a plate in the stone-metal hybrid of corridor floor, the blast of shrapnel delaying the duo of 'Battle Drone' type machines that had been standing behind a duo of thick pillars a few meters into the passage.

The robotic sentries had been positioned to face the other way, probably to guard their larger comrade from rear strikes, but now they bolted for it as well, having attempted to kick on their own thrusters only moments before the blast's pressure wave had rammed them into the walls. The momentary loss of positioning data forced them to recalculate, postponing their takeoff by a few seconds.

"Check your fire!" the Khelari roared at the approaching Jake, both to overtone the ambient dissonance as well as reprimand the youth for having his henchmen open fully fire on a hostile grappling with an ally in melee without full exactness – in other words, playing sniper with a field barrage.

Unfortunately, his next round would have to wait. Up until now, the enemy had behaved as he'd expected, and the reptilian had no doubt this would continue. After the added duo of robots had been threatened, there were only a few logical choices available to the assault bot for its next action. Acid knew it would pick the most unexpected one - insane as it may have been - taking directly after the lunacy of its creator.

Still, pre-emptive measures came too late, even as Acid dropped his weapon and thrust the palms of his clawed hands ahead. As the assault bot's glowing head began to lose its iridescence, the machine already made its move. Without warning, it engaged a detonator, exploding with enough thunderous violence to tear a hole right through the bridge deck. Thankfully, the support structure held firm, but the configuration still groaned with horrid echo, vibrations shaking the entirety of the crossway.

The bulk of the blast had bashed against an unseen barrier, causing the air in its area to flare up pale-blue, but the sheer impact had been too much for the reptilian's transitioning stance from crouch to stand. The force had bowled him over and back, shield collapsing as he lost concentration upon hitting the bridge deck and skidding aft a few meters. With a vicious snarl, cursing his inattention as much as the painful abrasion, the reptilian rolled back up, using his momentum to his advantage in order to stand more quickly.

"Ess, make sure everyone's okay!" he shouted to the reploid while making a dive for the dropped combi-rifle, snatching the weapon from the ground and promptly teleporting across the hole to give chase after the battle drones; which had of course taken off by now.

Seeing this, the reptilian performed another short-range 'jump' to get back at their heels, despite the fact that it seemed unlikely he'd be fast enough to stop them alone - and he wasn't one conceited enough to believe that he indubitably could. By now, they rounded a corner to the right.

"Warmaster, get the ship ahead of them!" Acid's voice came across the team channel in short order, interspaced with quick breaths that stemmed from a hastened sprint, "I'm transmitting an intercept course!"

The trajectory arrived moments later. It would take the Drop Ship past the tower the assault bot had been positioned in, as well as above the large structure anchored to this tower and two others not far from it, connecting the three like some manner of toroidal plate. Located just behind and to the right of the original tower, Acid apparently suspected the open-roofed structure to be the destination of the battle drones, and hence had concluded for it to present the best opportunity to cut them off...

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

"Direct." Thermoplast remarked emotionlessly at the transit, casting a glance about at the remnants of the former Rikti pantheon's spiritual realm.

He said not a word as his gaze fell upon Archlich, deferring to Rosalind’s judgment when it came to these matters. That did not go to say he wasn't prepared for a sudden and violent change of situation, however, a gloved hand reaching beneath the side of his white cloak in precaution...

"Hmm, I should probably put something on as well." the Krayten mused with thoughtful expression for a moment, then proceeded towards the car ahead of their current one, the door opening by unseen hand, "Do excuse me for a minute..."

((By the way Ess, it's up to you when they arrive. ))

Hehe, nice. Good to see you're still at it.

On a side note, I noticed your large minus-sign separation there. I generally find that copying and pasting the automatic --- boundary between the post and signature will give you a very effective divider that stays nice and uniform no matter how many times you need it.

The Malta Operatives didn't even get a chance to bark their characteristic, "MHI!" before the hulk of stone Randall Grey had become roared from rain's haze and right into their midst, his impact bowling them over like reeds in a hurricane.

Indeed, the bridge itself groaned under the collision, dust flaking off the overpass at several points, the structure showing its age. It held firm even so, and Solid's missile didn't change that, finding its mark not a second after the tanker's impact. A terrifying sound of thunder echoed in tandem with the explosion's fireball, hurling the Operation Engineers over the edge and into the abyssal realm of mists below.

The TacOps Commander, however, had managed to react quickly enough to roll out of the explosion's radius, spitting a colorful string of curses as his radio gave up its ghost in the interference. Using his momentum, the man rammed the flat of his palms against the ground, bounding back up in a heartbeat and almost simultaneously loosing a frag grenade at Randall.

He didn't have time to take any other action, a Rikti portal already flaring into existence directly behind him, ready to let loose those that the approaching Drop Ship had taken aboard with the first gateway not a few seconds ago. Sadly, technical limitations of Rikti teleportation workings didn't permit a straight transit from one point to the other.

Not that this had bothered Sah'Teece. The Rikti diplomat stepped from the second portal with deft speed nonetheless, striking at the Maltan Commander with his bladerifle, the edge's iridescent energies singing by at hair's breath from the man's neck due to the highly trained operative having thrown his body low and forward, his mind frantically trying to make sense of the situation.

Acid had taken much the same approach; only he'd chosen to transport himself by means of his own mind's capacity to teleport, displacing his body just at the rear and to the side of Sah'Teece. Analyzing the situation in a heartbeat, the reptilian took a knee and lined up the barrel of his rifle at what (at least to him) seemed the greatest threat at this point, taking steady aim into the entryway that held the inactive screen.

The robot at crossway's end, however, seemed to possess neither need nor capability for confusion, allowing it to act much more quickly than its beleaguered human comrade. IFF mechanisms assessed the granite-armored tanker as its primary target, prompting the launch of an incendiary missile barrage, the machine's calculations suggesting that the rooted Grey would be at a disadvantage to the resulting patches of blazing flames due to his presently greatly slow running speed.

Then the mechanoid followed up with a very unexpected move.

It fled.

Integrated thrusters ignited within the soles of the assault bot's feet, snapping the machine's frame up and back, the robot obviously intent on getting out of the interference it had detected in order to alert the base...

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

The effect didn't let wait on itself long. The sensor launched its signal almost immediately, a minuscule current shooting down well-concealed wires along the underside of the bridge, the electric impulse racing to both ends and takin less than a millisecond to tap its receivers.

C4 plastique.

The pair of charges placed at the terminators detonated nearly in the same instant, viciously tearing apart the entryways of each tower that the bridge connected, sending flame, debris, and maybe even ragged pieces of the Arachnos mediporter station rocketing every which way.

Worse yet, these had only been the initial igniters. Half a second later, another pair blew, even as the bridge already fell away into the abyss, explosion after explosion propagating from endpoints toward mean at half-second intervals, the C4 packs having been placed with no purpose other than to completely annihilate the overpass and any who dared cross it.

Coincidentally, this took place at virtually the same time as the ambush of Delta team upon the quite surprised Malta, meaning that the sounds of thunder from each event overpowered the noise of the other, leaving Arachnos and the Vanguard detachment completely unaware of one another by means of sound...

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

"Seems we have our answer." Thermoplast told Balsk with lax tone, his arms giving a bit of a shrug as he turned to follow the border collie.

He knew nothing of a designated room or such, but this wasn't unusual. Generally, only the uppermost echelons of the SPC knew what precisely an assignment entailed before it had begun. Still, the bits and pieces of conversation he'd caught led him to believe this 'Archlich' might have had something to do with it.

In any case, his mind stood focused on this, and thus he didn't even notice yet another new arrival making his way past the gate as the three walked off.

The figure may have looked unusual to the average human, but in Paragon City, atypical had long since become the norm. None of the security personnel even bothered with the new arrival for longer than a few moments after he'd provided identification to the gate guard and thereby gained admittance.

The figure stood at a height of a little more than two meters, perhaps two point two, clad entirely in an assembly of dull gray robes that left no clue to his actual features. A thick cloth in the style of a 'reaper' covered the lower half of his face, bulging outward like some manner of maniacal dentist had just stopped working on the jaw beneath. The same brown cloth extended onto the head over the neck, coming down onto the stranger's forehead like a hijab.

The only visible clue to the intruder's nature sat in the cloth's opening for the eyes, a pair of large, set-apart oculae that contained slitted pupils with irises of almost blood-toned crimson. They surveyed the scene about closely, as if scrutinizing every detail of every molecule of campus within their grasp. A few strands of long hair in the same crimson hue hung at the edges of the gap, and the man's skin seemed to possess an orange or persimmon tint, as well as an odd-looking texture. Details were hard to make out in the shadow cast by the thick bulges of head-covering wardrobe, but said skin surely wasn’t smooth. The figure was without doubt not human...

"That's the idea." Vern smiled toothily to Vanessa with his answer, "First rule of covert operations: hide in plain sight. After all, if we were really a hostile force, why would we be so stupid as to park where everyone can see us, right?"

Indeed, this was an age-old strategy, and not just one employed by humans. Common sense suggested that any covert force should remain just that, and this strategy completely counteracted this, making it a still very unusual aspect of clandestine operations.

Vern did not underestimate the enemy, however; he fully expected their leaders to turn attention their way if they truly went through with the plan, so he'd modified it just a little, and would choose a final destination in such a manner that nobody could derive any suspicion from it - neither hidden nor plainly observable.

Since the paper trail was there (even publicly accessible) in the Kremlin, and the mask of a geological expedition extended beyond just the train itself, these guys would have to have been several orders of magnitude more paranoid than the Malta Group to even dream that there was anything amiss here.

After all, Siberia was a land undergoing intense scientific study. If the enemy made it a point to keep tabs on every such expedition, they would've soon descended into an information chaos the likes of which no human had ever seen...

Vern said nothing, opting to be diplomatic instead of voicing his thoughts about Build's metamorphosis. As far as the Krayten was concerned, the guy had quite stupidly treaded into territory his human mind wasn't used to or ready for. He was just lucky they didn't have any time to waste - and that humans tasted lousy, of course.

"While I'm not exactly sure what you mean by materials," he answered Igor, "we are carrying everything with us that a true geologic expedition would need. You're free to look about the equipment car."

As soon as everyone had climbed aboard, the train received the green light. The fake diesel engine revved its motors audibly, and in short order the cars followed their locomotive out into the cold, Siberian tundra.

Well, not exactly.

First, the landscape that rushed past the windows was that of a lush, green forest, the railroad tracks suspended more than a dozen meters above ground, and with no visible supports. Myriads of plants could be seen every which way, the hangar they'd just departed already having vanished in the thick crowns of green.

"Great, now I'm hungry again." Vern sighed with a smirk as the landscape passed, then without warning gave way to the true surroundings of the Labtower: a vast expanse of permafrost plain.

The construct that had obviously been some sort of greenhouse encircling the Labtower soon fell behind in the distance, and now the tracks hovered over a desolate region that resembled a gigantic meteor crater. The clouds above were black as night, resembling supercells to a tee, and encircled the formation's far perimeter in a thick blizzard the likes of which struck just about anyone that turning back was a good idea.

Of course, the train didn't have to worry about that. It would never even enter the storm wall. A few hundred meters beforehand, the tracks merged with the ground once more, smoothly transitioning at the rocky caldera wall, and then trailed in a curve toward a destroyed wooden bridge.

Vern's unperturbed demeanor, however, already suggested the out-of-order crossway wasn't what it appeared; and indeed this was so. As the locomotive came upon it, the world outside changed without warning, doing so in a nearly immeasurable amount of time. The caldera had vanished, the bridge now sat behind them, and the skies had become normal once more - well, at least as normal as they got in Siberia. Thick clouds of white blotted out the sky, and falling snow drifted wildly by the speeding train.

"We'll be joining the main rail in Berkakit in about two minutes." Vern explained, feeling that was all there was to it, "from there, it's about thirty kilometers to Zolotinka, so that's our OA for now. We'll have to look carefully to find a good observation post..."

“Oh, that’s really very simple.” the quadruped told the gathered trio with a light smirk, somewhat amused at the question, “With all this detective work you’ve been doing, frankly I’m surprised none of you figured it out.”

“I am sure that from your point of view, the situation is a great deal more transparent,” Rimsey replied as he crossed his arms, sweeping his right hand about in a way that conveyed a request for elaboration, “but I’m afraid we lack the general oversight of this whole scheme. So I think we’ll change gears to something more specific: Why us? Not humanity, just the three of us. Why this elaborate riddle, the hidden clues? I mean, you’d have to have been rather knowledgeable of us to conduct the arrangement of a railroad yard in Morse code. You knew it would lead us here. Why?”

“Because I needed you.” Vern answered cryptically, hopping onto a crate to more closely approach the eye level of the humans. The reptilian’s wings seemed superfluous at this point, prescribing only a twitch of motion while the rest of the Krayten moved akin to a tiger, “You people have a saying: good help is hard to find. I agree. So does the rest of my organization. I hope I’ve just found some. You’re certainly qualified.”

“I’m not following.” Dietrich scratched his head in thought, looking somewhat confusedly at his fellow agents, “What exactly is it you needed us to…”

“I am offering you a job.” the quadruped pre-empted the man from the NSA, “Look, it’s fairly simple. You guys are agents of your respective governments. Spies, for short. You’d lay down your lives for your lands, your people – so doesn’t it seem kind of silly to you to be doing so to one another? This whole Cold War business is just stupid, wouldn’t you agree? Mutually Assured Destruction, hm? Well the ‘mad’ acronym certainly fits there because that’s what it is. It’s just plain crazy.”

“This is true.” Koschev admitted with a depressed sigh, and the other two couldn’t help but snatch up some of the Russian’s glumness, “Neither side wishes it, but both prepare. However, that is why people such as us stand by our lands. That is what we work to prevent by gathering information to maintain the status quo until a solution is found.”

“I think I picked right.” Vern smiled broadly in response, and this time his mouthful of predatory teeth didn’t even cause a reaction anymore. The agents had become acquainted with his appearance very quickly indeed; another good mark for them, “You like your jobs. You do them because you feel it is necessary. But you also know the status quo cannot be maintained forever. Sooner or later, something will set it all off. I won’t lie to you: my appearance could be one.”

The operatives only nodded silently. They were certainly intelligent enough to imagine a table of consequences that could come from public contact at this time. The Krayten even elaborated further, “Where I come from, we have a rule: don’t make contact with less advanced civilizations. No offense guys, but it’s the truth. There are three categories: technology, social evolution, and breadth of thought. Meet one, and technically I’d be allowed to make this official. Now, you’re really, really close to the first one. Another fifty years maybe, and you could be a full-fledged interstellar people. But it’s not going to happen if you blow yourselves up – and you will unless you manage to catch your level of social evolution here up with that of your technology. Thinking on a cosmic scale would of course be best, and that’s the ultimate idea here. A friend of mine thinks it’s likely, but I’ll be satisfied with anything I can get right now. Be that as it may, not only does said little rule prevent me from just going ahead with things, but I also lack the insight necessary to do so; and I don’t have the time to acquire it. There’s a war going on. A big one.”

“Cosmic scale?” Rimsey asked somewhat timidly, the idea of that that actually meant sinking in, not to mention putting two and two together as things came down to what the reptilian’s proposal entailed.

“Cosmic scale.” Vern confirmed with his version of a nod, a slight downward bob of his head, “Whole solar systems are among the casualties. But that’s for later, if we succeed here. Guys, I need your help. You believe your work is helping, right? Of course you do, otherwise you wouldn’t be doing them. That’s just the sort you three are. And that’s what I need. That’s what your people need. I want you to work for me from now on. All the Labtower’s means will be at your disposal. Teach your people. Stop this insanity. And see if you can get them thinking about things a little larger than their own greed sometime.”

The three stood silent for some time. Like the Brit, the others had puzzled together where this was going, but not quite managed to process it by the time the quadruped got there. Dietrich was the first to respond, inquiring with a somewhat disbelieving, “You’re serious? You’re actually serious about this?”

“I am.” Vern answered, the reptilian’s tone leaving no question he wasn’t kidding around, “I think you’re the kind of people I can trust with such a task. You know what needs to be done, and at what pace. You know your world needs changing, but that this change can’t happen overnight. You’re smart, loyal to your people, and you’ve got good intentions. Why do you think only you three made it here? The clues I left just about pre-qualified you. So, what do you say?”

“Well, what exactly is it you want us to do?” Rimsey wanted to know.

“Anything.” came the answer, “Everything. As I said, the Labtower is at your disposal. Use its means how you see fit. If you want to make good on Reagan’s, ‘Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!’ then do it. You will have the capability. You’ll have to be smart about it, but I think that shouldn’t be a problem. So, gentlemen: in our out?”

“In.” the three said almost in unison, stepping forward with outstretched hands. Needless to say, this turned into a very awkward situation the next second, the arms of three humans reaching forward to shake the hand of a being that didn’t have any hands.

“General Cosmic Incorporated welcomes you aboard.” Vern nodded with a smile, balancing on his left foreleg to extend his right one, and so the oddest handshake in the history of mankind came to be.

“Feels weird.” Rimsey remarked as he inspected the loose powder on his hand, a little of the stuff having rubbed off the reptilian’s claws in the gesture. However, all stood clear on the fact that he hadn’t meant the residue.

“Every time.” the Krayten chuckled good-naturedly as he stepped off his crate again and began heading toward the door, “You’d be surprised how odd you feel to me, all squishy and such. Don’t worry about it. Now, shall we get to work? I’m going to take you to the mainframe so you can familiarize yourselves with the Labtower, which I suggest you don’t do all at once, and then…”

“One more thing.” Dietrich stopped the reptilian with his interjection, Vern curiously turning his head back to find out what the American wanted, “Evan Collins. Pleasure to make everyone’s acquaintance.”

Vern’s eyes widened slightly as the Brit and Russian joined in with their partner-in-crime, introducing themselves as Warren Gedrave and Pavel Sergeievich Fedoseev, allowing himself a remark on the subject, “Hm…didn’t expect that. Thanks, guys. That means a lot to me, actually…”

"Ready whenever." Acid gave a nod, clawed fingers tightening about the barrel of his rifle as he brought it into a transitional position. The reptilian may have been a sniper at heart, but he could plainly see they had enough of those already; he'd be better off saving his attention for the expected unknown.

Sah'Teece in the meantime ran his fingers across the ship interactions module he'd grafted to his armorsuit's left arm, transmitting instructions back to the Drop Ship's autopilot. Over the small mental network he then requested of the Warmaster to take control if he could. Tactical decisions might have to be made in fractions of a second once this began, and the former diplomat felt Char'tak's experience would serve them better than his own...

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Thermoplast nodded silently to the canine, as if he'd just acknowledged an order. He stopped for a moment, waiting for any more of their number to make way through the gate.

Still, he couldn't help but feel a strange sensation of direction - as if he'd been meant to be here. This was odd, to say the least, as he generally kept a cool head and distanced, calm attitude toward just about anything...

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((Contact as in physical, not communications.))

The Arachnos troop had come to a wise verdict. Malta wasn't to be trifled with, and more likely than not, they'd soon be reminded just why Lord Recluse hadn't made an all-out move against them in the past, even though on the surface his organization looked more than capable of taking on the rogue clandestine operatives.

The bridge stretched a fair distance to the next tower, easily more than two hundred meters, but sat at an angle that did not allow a direct view to the destroyed crossing where the Vanguard team contemplated their course of action. In addition, the structure on which the Malta currently walked sat too far in the haze of steam and rain to offer any clear picture.

Indeed, the goal tower sat at the outer rim of the Forgotten Sanctuary, base clinging to a steep grade of mountainside at what looked to be a ridiculously dangerous angle. Still, the thing had stood for hundreds of years, and therefore logic suggested its foundations were sound.

Nonetheless, the appearance could have stirred fear in some. Not due to the tower itself; the cause rested in the steep side of rock it sat connected to. The small range of mountains stood with a radius curvature with vertex somewhere in the distance to the right. This was an easily observable fact.

But if this was so, what did it mean? Did the facility sit in some sort of meteor crater? Or was the cause something else entirely?

Be what may, Malta hadn't posted any guard on this particular overpass, whether organic or mechanical. The journey looked to be uneventful.

But appearances could be deceiving.

At the bridge's midpoint, a weight sensor had been rigged to the construct's masonry of stone and metal. The tiny device sat coupled to the walkway underneath, allowing no visible trace to anyone who stood upon the bridge. In addition, its workings required such a low voltage that the thing was practically undetectable - a nearly perfect trap.

The moment someone set foot on a section surrounding the mean, a somewhat circular area roughly ten meters in diameter (which also corresponded to the deck's width) the sensor would be set off...

"Dig I can do." Vern remarked to Vanessa's concerns, "The ground's quite easy to get aside. You just have to know how to talk to it. Now then, shall we get going...?"

Indeed. And if you'd like more info on 'using your character', I recommend asking either Burning Brawler or Khellendrosiic. The former has taken on the job of roleplaying contact with the City Scoop, so he's always a good source of advice when it comes to this, while the latter has created a few very excellently developed robot characters.

"Frankly, I'd prefer not to kill them." Acid remarked coldly, turning back to the walking trio with a sigh, "But I understand that you don't think the way I do. And this isn't my lead. I'll defer to your command, Mr. Grey."

Strictly from a logical point of view, Toy's plan was good. Nearly perfect, in fact. The only thing it couldn't account for was the presence of any other personnel in either tower that might see them and give alarm, but this was a risk that had to be taken one way or another.

Solid Shot, however, may have forgotten that his 'silent' missile would make quite a bit of noise from just being fired. The sound would arrive before the munition had. Of course, if the LRM had a true acoustic damper (like the 'silencer' on a handgun) or traveled at supersonic velocities, he of course held right.

Cher'tak's idea came with a hole as well, but only if Toy couldn't jam the Malta sensors somehow. If he could mask the characteristic signatures of the Rikti ship's teleporter and keep the mechanisms looking for such things from going off, the Warmaster's suggestion entailed no more risk than any other way across. Indeed, it may have carried less. If something did go awry, they'd at least have the Drop Ship right there to back them up.

"Your call." the reptilian told Randall with a toothy smirk, readying his combi-rifle as he crouched slightly, "I'm ready whenever..."

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

The connectors locked in with a satisfying click in the nearly pitch-black darkness. Another down, so many to go. Adapting a linear converter to drag its ship into another universe instead of the libration zone wasn't exactly easy. Neither was understanding all this gibberish he'd gotten a hold of. 'Portal Theories' these people called it - there were unnecessary elements everywhere, in all forms of redundants, from n-dimensional equations of energy to simple impulse calculations!

Luckily, he at least had time to spare. In addition to the black of night, which proved less problematic than he'd initially expected thanks to his low-light sensitivity, the deflector field held his ship and a small area around it undetectable in the small portion of the EM spectrum that included and bordered on visible light - and he didn't consider it likely that someone would come looking with X-rays. The facility he'd gleamed his intelligence from (passively, of course) may have been right over that ridge of rocks, but the coast out here was still rough, rugged, and devoid of habitation.

Well, excluding the walking plants and random gunk, that was. Someone had played geneticist one too many times. Thankfully, they'd just ignored him after he'd taken care of the first few upon blatant displays of hostilities. From then on, he'd at least known why no one lived here.

However, this was also a strike of luck. After all, with these things around, the likelihood that anyone would come wandering about back here was slim to none. The dominant species of this world seemed quite fragile to him, and it stood to reason they wouldn't engage these strange mutations without a pressing need to do so.

Good. The Concile may have spat on the old ways, but he still respected that one shouldn't go about interfering with other species before making sure they were ready. Considering he was only here for one thing (well, technically two, but the process would be the same), and thus wasn't planning to be around long enough to obtain such information, the best option resulted in just avoiding contact altogether.

Another click sounded as another connection rested in. One more down, one less to go. He had to work faster.

Indeed, he now focused so on his work that he wouldn't even have noticed anyone passing through the deflector field, let alone walking about it unless they made a good bit of noise. He'd gotten used to the odd creatures mulling about this coast, and felt confident the deflector field would ward off anyone else...

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

Thermoplast gave a twitch of his shoulders as the four ran off toward the portal. Humans and their creations. Always so impetuous. Good thing he tended to fly solo or with the SPC. Time was always taken to analyze the crime scene very carefully, and he'd picked up the habit to be applied just about everywhere else.

Or had that been a remnant of...before? He truly wished he knew...

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

Having proceeded into the branch at brisk speed, several members of the Arachnos troop quickly moaned at the sight of the ramp, of course averse to the idea of having to lug the already heavy equipment they carried up there. But orders were orders, so lug they did.

The ramp wasn't long, but it certainly was steep, having been designed for Rikti, not humans. It performed a trio of right-hand bends as the floor ascended, until the Arachnos expedition had been fully turned around and to the right once more as they reached the ramp's end. Before them now lay some manner of ring corridor, which curved along the periphery of the tower, and seemed rather tall indeed, the ceiling at least twenty meters above them.

If they chose to follow this passage, they would soon reach the hallway's end, roughly a third of the way around the tower. In the wall to the left stood an opening much like the entryway they'd come in through, the corridor becoming a bridge to another tower in the hazy distance, the rain’s soft pitter sounding through the doorless gateway.

But even though the corridor terminated in a wall ahead, there were a few more meters of it, ending in some sort metallic panel upon the wall. Large and rectangular, an array of luminescent circuits crisscrossed the background plate in a very artistic fashion, nodes and relays laid out like a flowing river instead of the usual right angles and dense clustering.

In addition, there seemed to be a contact plate in the middle of the panel, and the floor that led from the doorway to the panel's wall carried the texture of metal, not stone...

Acid's answer was but a silent twitch of the shoulders. He just used those chasses in order to not stick out any more than necessary when he operated on Terra. They weren't that bad of a design either, but for the really tough stuff he still preferred the TARA-III-U.

"I'm not comfortable with that." the reptilian voiced his concern, referring somewhat directly to Solid's idea of the LRM. In truth, he felt perturbed about two items, but the issue of whether Solid Shot could lock on his missile took a back seat to the first, "That robot there would see, bark an alert through the whole base, and we'd be up to our necks in Malta...that is...

He turned to the robotic members of the team with the gleam of an idea in his eye, "...unless we can jam their communications?"

Indeed, a localized cutting of radio channels would disable the robot's ability to sound alarm if the three Malta Operatives on the bridge were attacked and vice versa. However, chances were high it would have to be a rather small area.

The reptilian suspected the presence of various sensors over Malta's core stronghold. From the fact that their landing had gone unnoticed by Malta - as they were known to strike at the opportune moment, which would have been a while ago, when they'd still had the element of surprise - in conjunction with the mechanoid's presence and the overlooked bloodstain, Acid had deduced the operatives here were likely low on true manpower, and therefore unable to cover the Forgotten Sanctuary in its entirety.

Of course, this was but an educated guess. He could've always been wrong. But if he was right, this changed very much indeed.

Logically, a meager human presence could lead nowhere but heightened security in the sections they did hold. The Malta Operatives may have been paranoid, but they had managed to turn this into a decided advantage. Their means of detecting extranormal activity were cutting-edge, and there was little dispute that they'd immediately pick up on anything unusual in their territory unless it barely registered on the 'power meter'.

He also suspected this included standard teleportation, especially those forms akin to Rikti means, and made sure to let the others know of his concerns.

"Also, I really don't think there's anyone captured over there." the Khelari added as a closing thought. The final decision on how to proceed of course rested with Randall Grey - or just the first one to get impatient and make a move; that tended to happen on large teams where not everyone knew the others - but he still felt it wise, "With that kind of robot and Malta, I think we're dealing with..."

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

Crimson's answer didn't have to be waited on long. The agent knew the ins and outs of the Malta Group in as much as anyone not a part of their upper echelons could.

"Watchdogs, varmints...this is serious." he told Matt with a grave tone, "I think you're dealing with..."

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

"...the Slinger."

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

"I've dealt with the guy before." the reptilian elaborated, "One of Malta's own mad scientists. Mad in the sense that he's a cyborg Gunslinger with a near-suicidal attitude. Lost both arms somehow, but he just grafted on robotics and back to work he went..."

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

"In short, the guy's a maniac." Crimson summed up, "A smart maniac. Dangerous as can be. And yes, I am trying to frighten you. Don't take this guy on alone - no matter what. He will kill you...or worse..."

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

Indeed, if the process was thus, there wasn't any way for the mystic barrier to block Jake's transports. The Vanguard portal on the Portal Corporation campus had already been punched through, and therefore attained stability. Arachnos' process of dematerializing something, then sending the energy stream on a direct course through that gate, followed by ducting it to the location of Jake's device, which in turn also rematerialized the 'cargo' was practically foolproof.

Thankfully, the Malta Operatives hadn't stationed any sensors around the landing platform or the first tower, or the whole place would've been up in arms already. Instead, at least for now, things went just as the young man had intended.

Space, however, would soon become a concern. The first tower wasn't that large, and if the Arachnos forces wanted to remain undiscovered, they'd have to find somewhere else to hole up before Vanguard's Delta team wished to return to the Drop Ship...

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

It may have taken Radiator and Ghost Killer some time to determine this, but eventually they'd discover the vastness of the facility dropped their chances of finding a vessel of their own to practically zero. The Rikti had veritably hollowed out this moon, building gigantic complexes beneath the surface that filled volumes that often measured tens of cubic kilometers. It was simply too big for two people just randomly poking about.

Vanguard had realized this early, having taken steps to secure the surface level of the facility they'd arrived in and nothing more. The Lady Grey wasn't willing to stretch her manpower that thin. With Lk'Onik's aid, they sealed off pairs of blast doors that connected their chosen sector with others, then depressurized the paths between them. Patrols of at least four secured the outer perimeter and unused chambers, consisting of mixed units that ranged from normal operatives to ranking officers.

Of course, even said 'secured' sector was rather large. Vanguard certainly couldn't cover the whole place at all times. Partols and checkpoints had to cycle, and though it would've been though for a novice to stealth to slip in undetected, chances were someone skilled in covert operations stood a good chance.

Of course, that was if this someone wanted to just waste time.

If instead said someone had in mind to get to get to the planet, there still hovered a certain Rikti warship over the base, unmoving and with its shields down, ergo free to boarding via extraspatial displacement. That didn't go to say there weren't other ways of getting aboard, but a process like teleportation was likely the simplest and quickest.

Stemming from the fact that Vanguard's Delta team had taken an auxiliary vessel of said warship, and generally large starships carried multiple auxiliary craft for extension purposes, it stood to reason there were still some aboard that weren't doing anything useful right now. It would've been a downright shame to just let them sit idle...

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

Thermoplast gave a polite nod in response to this, then coolly stepped past Jack 7 and his squad to present his identification to the gate guard, who instantly granted him passage.

The reason stood clear for all to see. If Jack 7 and his compatriots had taken a moment to look at said ID while it had been in the lit window, they'd plainly seen the unique marks upon it: he telltale logo of Paragon City's very own Soul Police Chapter...

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

And they hadn't been the only ones.

In the shadows of a rocky vista to the north-northwest of the Portal Court gate, by a deciduous tree just beyond the electrical tower that supplied the campus with its everyday power, hovered a tiny machine no larger or even looking any different than the generic seeker drones deployed by heroes and villains alike. It aroused no suspicion at all, a passing spandex-clad metahuman ignoring the thing completely as he flew by. After all, the things were known to be somewhat dumb, sometimes lagging great distances behind their owners, even going so far as to stop in a dead, completely unresponsive hover on occasion.

But this was no seeker drone.

Indeed, its job was nowhere near that complex. All it had to do was watch, to be the eyes of the cloaked heavy fighter that had landed just beyond the rocky hills that surrounded Portal Court. Invisible and nigh undetectable in its current state, the ship sat there as powered down as possible without dropping the deflector field and assorted other detection countermeasures in place.

The cockpit sat in near-total darkness now as a side effect of this low-power state, the vessel only drawing energy from the emergency dynamo. The HUD stood as the only active instrument, displaying the feed from the camera drone as the ship's occupant worked.

He'd managed to track the source of the transmissions that mentioned Zero's name here. Approaching without being detected had been difficult, but thanks to the surrounding water he'd managed. Now he'd been passively listening in, gathering information on the whereabouts of the Khelari.

Results were quick and promising. He knew where to go and how to get there. Now he just needed a way. Simply asking was out of the question, for various reasons - not the least of which being the guy who they'd just granted passage to. The man may have worn a radically different outfit, but if that wasn't Thysthe, he swore he'd eat his wig.

A working knowledge of the English language had sped things up significantly. Hopefully, it had also put him ahead of his competitor. He knew the guy had a better ship, and was more than smart enough to find a way to the Rikti world without aid, given enough time. He, on the other hand, would need to make use of these Vanguard people. Thankfully, he at least had a conditioned mind to counter telepaths. He wasn't sure if they had any, but better safe than sorry - he made sure to keep his thoughts so elusive a telepath couldn't even sense his presence.

Alright, one more time...clothes, check. Wig, check. Paint, check. Gun, check. Sword, check. Identification, check. Okay, here we go...

Well, if you'd like a critique...

I've no idea what anything looks like, except for the chair - or at least I wouldn't if I didn't already know. Is the sky orange? Is there even a sky? Is the General a midgit? Does have have a moustache?

I don't have any idea what anyone sounds like. Does John Ballard speak calm, relaxed, and perfectly chipper, or does his voice carry more of a sad undertone at times? Is the General excited, impressed, or just downright stoic like a rock?

I see the dialogue. I don't see the setting or the people. Otherwise, good start.

"No, you definitely need the latter as well." Vern added to the discussion, referring to Solid Shot's remark with a wry smirk, "At least from some people's point of view. Personally, I don't consider asking the tree to grow a certain way to be amoral, but there's a good few who equate that to messing with nature and perverting it and corrupting it, bla bla bla. It pays off though, so we don't much care, right Drechi?"

Indeed, the plant that had spread itself through the Labtower formed the veritable heart of the facility, metabolizing, translating, and passing on the various hyperenergies linked to it. Build would quickly find himself incapable of recreating just about anything here - the bulk of the place operated on a parabasis, which quite simply exceeded his capabilities of detection. Though he may well have known of different means to achieve a like effect of what he'd intended to copy, the means in use here remained a book with seven seals.

"We'll be able to get within about ten clicks of the position Madam Eirene gave us." the Krayten further elaborated, "From there, no tracks lead any closer. Logic suggests our friends are operating out of Neryungri, flying in their supplies and taking them into the mountains to the south - the river coming out of Gorbylyakh, to be precise. They're probably using it for power. That means we'll be heading somewhere between Zolotinka and Berkakit. Exactly where is still up in the air - we'll just stop at a few vantage points and then pick the best one..."