DeviousMe

"Um, let's see, Sunday..." Vern mumbled, his eyes darting from one side to the other has he tried to remember what day that designated. Thankfully, he'd spent enough time on Terra for the answer to not stay lost for long, "Yeah, should be fine. But scientific consortium? Ess, your dad does know Dr. Kirov was just a fictitious alias of mine, right? I mean, I guess I know a lot by human standards, but honestly I'm no scientist. I'm just the guy who builds things. Your expression would be 'the grease monkey'."

"I mean, I guess I can always drop Ace a line," the reptilian's shoulders shrugged somewhat, "but generally he's the guy for the crazy ideas...and so's the Doc, but more into biology. Hm...I guess I do turn their insanity into feasible stuff sometimes. In any case, I'll bring any help I can offer..."

T. P. S. GRONDKOPON
Buckshot System - Andromeda Transmitterroad
Status: In Transit

It was night. Not truly, of course, as technically it could be said that day or night were present with permanence on board any starship, depending on one's point of view. However, according to both the vessel's chronometer as well as the oppressive darkness that currently covered the artificial ecosystem's sky on the recreation deck, the ship's time cycle had reached the night period some time ago.

As a direct result, the regular patrons of the recreation deck had long since departed, the soft swaying of the spiral trees in the broken and rocky landscape the only motion about.

However, that didn't mean there wasn't anyone here. On a thick, gnarled branch of a tall spiral tree lay a creature that a human would imagine to be close to a miniature dragon - especially in the murk of night.

Of course, first impressions were often deceiving, as the quadrupedal being had about as much in common with that mythical creature as it did with the animal that humans often associated its size with: a species of dog called a Great Dane. The being was a Krayten, and though following a generally draconic form, the saurian head was free of any manner of horns or scales, a fact that also encompassed the rough, leathery hide that covered the being like an insulating blanket of organic armor.

And with its long tail and one or more tri-clawed feet dangling lazily from the branch, the reason for the Krayten's presence in the spiral tree was rather obvious: to sleep. Like almost all of his species, Vern felt most comfortable and secure in exterior environments (unless they were too cold, of course), but since these were hard to come by on starships, the recreation deck had to make due. It was a dark, quiet, and peaceful place.

Well, until the hovering intercom drone decided to play alarm clock, anyway.

With shrill report, the machine chased Vern from his slumber and back into the waking world, eliciting both an exclamation of surprise as well as a loss of balance. Before he even knew it, the Krayten had hit the ground below with a heavy thud.

"Why now?" Vern groaned in annoyance as the drone descended back into his field of view, the reptilian's slitted eyes twitching at the presence of the machine's bright-white communications screen, on which a crimson call symbol slowly pulsed. Rolling off his back and onto his feet (more or less), Vern tapped a claw to the touchscreen, commanding the machine to spill the beans.

"Incoming transmission." the synthetic voice of the drone came over a series of hidden loudspeakers embedded in the device, "Source confirmed as GLX system unit 1302. Awaiting orders."

Vern performed the equivalent of cocking an eyebrow, the hide that spanned the ridge of bone above his left eye socket displacing slightly. If memory served, that was one of the stations responsible for relaying transmissions from Terra. Furthermore, if it wasn't a priority alert, that meant it could only come form one source: Dr. Daniel West - or his reploids, anyway.

"Commence." the Krayten ordered, the machine obeying dutifully. It didn't take but a few moments for the nearest intercom's touchscreen to become an image that showed the other end of the line.

"Well, hello there." he switched to English as he spoke to the image of Essex, "Been a while. Something going on...?"

((No, you just had Darkvapor go on and blab right in the middle of a group of soldiers. And spell it right already; it's Schwarzherz, not Schwarez.))

((Essex. And maybe Krazy wants to add something as well. My nominal waiting time if posting is low is 16-32 hours, but so long as you keep things in reason, that time is pretty variable from person to person.))

((Um...you never asked - neither IC nor OOC. ))

((Diov, you need to go back and read the last couple of pages again. You've gotten a good deal of stuff wrong.

As for what Energon's pal has to do with the tracker and/or sensing souls, I'm afraid you lost me on that one, TeC. All I know there is that I've already told Diov he shouldn't be so condescending with his characters, but he just doesn't listen to me ))

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

"I'm gonna guess that one's gonna be a negative." Sergeant Buckman answered Darkvapor's question to the others, the bulky Commando fiddling boredly with his rifle. He really shouldn't have been talking out loud. Just because Schwarzherz had rounded the corner didn't mean everyone else in here had suddenly gone deaf, after all.

"Ain't no foul to it." the Sergeant continued, thumbing at the solid wall of concrete that sealed the building. Chances were it'd take a bulldozer on steroids to move, and even that wasn't sure, "Don't mind no company so long as nobody done causes problems. 'S just that there's no way in right now."

The men that formed the hold lines chuckled in an evil and sinister manner...

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

Energon's answer regarding the twins was quickly forthcoming - sadly, it was the same as last time. The evidence stared Vern straight in the face. The Sword duo certainly weren't normal humans. However, the cause - whether they'd been enhanced, mutated, modified, or weren't even human to begin with - would remain elusive unless he could manage to ask just the right questions...

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

"Move!" the Sword Colonel shouted to Dusan instead of giving answer to his questions, the arrival of Salvatore and the Ascendant Archon in the cavern connecting the three passages prompting a hasty retreat.

The tracker already bolted for the tunnel that led to the cells as the Colonel tried to snatch Dusan up with her free arm, then get after it as quickly as possible...

"You mean the two that were with you guys are gone?" Acid questioned curiously at Jake's response of tracking the other three down, "Yeah, probably a good idea then. I'll be back shortly too...and thanks, Toy, but I think things are good on my end. You'll never guess what I just found. Zero out."

With that, he terminated transmission, acknowledging Ineffable's playtime with a curt nod, then vanished into thin air once again. Acid had teleported elsewhere...

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

Radiator's plan didn't get too far. He had assumed too much.

Specifically, he'd assumed that he could simply pull his stunt in the midst of a large chamber filled with roughly two dozen highly trained Vanguard operatives (not counting the HVAS units), the head of the organization, and a trio of Rikti standing not a meter from him.

By the time he'd dropped his disguise, the Psi-Scout's blade already dove toward his sternum, Lk'Onik already knowing his plans and intent to stop them by cleaving the man squarely in half without mercy. At roughly the same time, the Lady Grey heaved her fist onto the alarm switch on the communications console, calling all troops to combat.

Luckily for Radiator, the Psi-Scout had struck out on his own, having forgotten to inform his comrades in the heat of the moment. This caused Sah'Teece to intervene, wedging Lk'Onik aside due to the erroneous through that the Psi-Scout had become over-agitated once again.

By the time Radiator blew his top, it was of course too late to rectify his mistake. The two Rikti bounded across the floor like rag dolls, limbs flailing as they frantically tried to catch themselves and roll to a stop.

Then again, their intervention wasn't what Radiator should have been worrying about. His main concern at present were the roughly two dozen very ticked Vanguard personnel in the chamber, most of whom had already grabbed one type of weapon or another and now zeroed in on the very foolish man.

Worse yet, his blast didn't seem to have been nearly as powerful or large as Radiator had initially thought. Indeed, there hadn't even been any radiation levels above nominal levels. What was going on here?

The explanation was rather simple - Acid's ship. If it could prevent the nuclear charges set about the base from detonating by suspending their reactions, it stood to reason that the nuclear fission processes Radiator used to power his Atomic Blast wouldn't hold up against it either.

Since Ghost had waited a few seconds before shifting back into phase with this plane, this meant the Vanguard operatives had plenty of time to spend with the unguarded Radiator - and they weren't picky about methodology.

Several Vanguard Soldiers led off with rifle bursts, aiming carefully and not employing WP rounds or flashbangs in order to not endanger the charging Warmaster with friendly fire, which everyone knew isn't. Sergeants and Colonels joined into the fray, attempting to turn Radiator into Swiss cheese with their cutting-edge munitions.

Worse yet, Radiator suddenly felt portions of his life force rapidly leave his body, Vanguard's Adepts and Wizards draining it away to harm him and aid themselves and those around them simultaneously before following up their life-draining strikes with bolts of ice conjured from their staves.

By then, the few seconds had passed, and Ghost had re-merged with this plane. One would think he'd help Radiator out against the superior assaults from all around, but instead he seemed to ignore everything but the new arrivals in the portal chamber at the other end of the room.

Be that as it may, he simply presented too good of a target once he'd taken to the air.

"Here!" came the shouted response to his taunt from multiple sources. With no cover or friendlies nearby to impede them, several Vanguard took aim and let loose flashbangs to impede Ghost's optical and audile senses with the intent of severely cutting his accuracy as well as reducing his capability to defend himself.

Part of the arcane aspect of Vanguard's force capitalized on this, a few Adepts and Sorcerers blasting spheres of crackling lightning his way. If Ghost believed the common myth that a ball of high-powered electricity couldn't harm those not in contact with the ground, he'd be in for a very nasty surprise. Indeed, even if he didn't, should these balls of lightning make contact, it wouldn't be fun for him.

Long story short, Radiator and Ghost were definitely in over their heads. Assuming no one else would react to their transgressions had been a costly mistake - and to only make their situation worse, by now the HVAS units in the Mechanical sectors had powered up fully once more and would shortly be joining the engagement, as would, or at least chances were, the Lady Grey...

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

If Toy Dispenser spared a glance to the landing field he'd been flying over until shortly, the mechanoid may have noticed one of the large horizontal gates in the metallic tarmac start its opening sequence.

A narrow, straight slit appeared inside a circular demarcation almost 500 meters in diameter, slowly widening as the multi-meter-thick gate slid open further and further...

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


"What you see is what you get." one of the technicians gathered about the laptop in question answered Matt with a shrug, gesturing at the open audio file. He replayed the recording once more, "Sorry, but that clip's all that's on there."

Unai Kemen appeared to have intent to add something to this, but at that moment the alarms blared once again. They produced a different sequence of times this time, signifying they'd been set off from the other side of the portal. Though nobody presently knew, the cause had been the Lady Grey heaving a fist onto the console at that very moment.

Longbow forces near the portal went into action immediately, taking a knee and aiming true. They expected a threat to come through at a moment's notice, and they'd be damned if it weren’t blasted, burned, and full of bullet holes before it take two steps. A Ballista Soldier already deployed his large force field, expecting the worst.

In summation, the moment HK 48 emerged from the gateway, he found himself staring down some hefty firepower. Longbow may have been the unofficial kicking rock of many villains, but the smart ones knew Ms. Liberty's strong-arm force still wasn't to be trifled with when things came down to the metal.

Thankfully, luck was on the robot's side. The Longbow soldiers still would've shot him on sight, no doubt about it, but while he found himself staring them down, they found themselves looking at but thin air thanks to his powerful cloaking device.

Still, it was never a good idea to rely on luck. While the Longbow may not have been able to detect him, the small band of Vanguard scattered about Portal Court certainly could, and already he could see a few of them come running. From other directions came more Longbow, and these had Police Drones in tow - never a pleasant thing to encounter. HK 48 would have done well to try and get away before anything spotted him...

((Footnote: audio clip on page 27.))

OOC:

Yeah, yeah, I'm going...just trying to make sense of all this over and over again.

1. Okay, so as far as I can tell, Dax and Bladewing are in the teleporter room wrecking stuff - Diov, you really should respond there.

2. Where are Salvatore and the Ascendant? Our characters are spread somewhat thing right now, so they'd better be somewhere no one's at.

3. Klaus did put the Archon on ice.

4. For blazes' sake, yalls stop grabbing control of my stuff already! I something's gotta move somewhere, it's gonna move. Don't push it.

5. Diov, that really was a pretty bad cop-out. You could've at least answered part of the question.

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

BIC:

The Watcher's current state could be described with a single word: speechless. True, he hadn't said anything to begin with, but that hardly excused the sheer nuttiness this whole situation had degraded into.

Even more annoying, Dr. Dark chose this time to dangle down another crystal lotus, and in their presents state, the members of the task force were too 'busy' to even notice. Well, Energon-X or Darkvapor may very well have picked it up, but they were off on their own errands. So much for that idea. Well, actually Dusan may have as well - maybe he could...

No.

For now he still had to play along, following silently and unobserved - at least until he actually managed to get an idea of what to do...

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

More than likely, Vern didn't have a good explanation to give to his friend. The Vanguard Sword duo definitely couldn't be described as 'normal', but neither was there anything glaringly obvious about them.

The two were alive, this was sure. Even through their suits of armor, Energon's sensor suite had managed to pick up heartbeats, body temperatures, metabolic processes, and generally all the things one associated with an average human.

What was suspicious, however, was the almost organized pattern the signals from their central nervous systems formed. Though Energon had jumped to a conclusion upon seeing this, it may not have been as far-fetched as it seemed.

Still, other explanations abound - it could've been a mutation (the Nuclear 90 were living proof that nature had some very wacky ideas sometimes), and though Vanguard wasn't known for 'modifying' its troops aside from their armorsuits, the secrecy the still very clandestine organization actively maintained of course had rumor mills all over Paragon going overtime.

In short, the data was there, but interpreting it without asking just the right questions would be very difficult indeed...

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

Dusan may very well have regretted his action the very next moment, the tracker's wide-open jaws closing in on him like greased lightning.

A moment later, rows of razor-sharp, predatory teeth snapped shut not a few centimeters from his face, the Sword Colonel literally tackling the reptilian quadruped to the ground before it could reach the hero.

Dust and dirt kicked up for a moment, and then all became quiet once more, the Colonel having locked the growling but motionless tracker in a firm choke hold. Had it not been for the severity of the situation, the scene would have almost appeared comical - the reptile standing there with feet apart, its wings somewhere between folded and spread, and the Sword Colonel half-lying on the ground beside it, her arms firmly locked about the tracker's neck.

"I could've sworn I suggested not getting too close to this thing." she huffed as she regained her footing, only releasing the reptilian once she'd steadied herself fully again...

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

The Sword Sorcerer turned his head toward the exit of the cellblock, having apparently heard something coming from the main cavern. Oddly enough, nobody else was likely to have done so - the Archon's tantrum overpowered the slight noise the scuffle had just created.

"While I'm not sure of the significance of all this," the told the others, "I am very much able to translate the pieces not spoken in English. However, I do believe we should either move elsewhere or secure our position first..."

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

With Darkvapor unforthcoming, General Schwarzherz once more turned to his work at hand. After all, he still had a job to do. What did happenings that had nothing to do with it concern him?

"Progress report, U-i mean, Archon Unger." he requested of one of the Council-uniformed men what eaned on the wall overlooking th next corner.

"Slow, but steady." the man replied, having a look down said corridor, "Hard to tell when we'll be through, but it can't be that much longer. Then the real work begins..."

((Eh, don't worry about it. I always say that when someone nabs something I or someone else has/have been doing/done. If you'd like information on Rularuu, just PM me what you want sometime and I'll see if I know enough to answer it.))

((Baeh, copycat. ))

((Your edit time has expired, that's why.))

"Okay." was Acid's only remark to that, the reptilian's long tail swaying about in characteristic motions of deliberation. If his conclusions had been drawn correctly, he now knew where to find a ship.

First, however, he figured the team topside really should know about this, just in case.

"Listen up a moment, everyone." he spoke into the team's communications channel, "Just wanted to let ya know we've got a hostile down here. The dark guy's taking care of him, but I'm pretty sure he's one of the four that barged past us earlier. Might not be, my memory's never been good, but just be careful anyways..."

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

"Ah, We are gratified to see such a quick response." the voice of Lady Grey greeted the new arrivals, the head of Vanguard standing behind Communications' main console. While not directly in front of the portal, the section sat close enough to the small gateway chamber's entryway to allow for a good view and conversation at normal volume.

The HVAS units that flanked the portal site remained motionless, and aside from the Lady Grey's words the only affirmations of acknowledgement were a few respectful nods from nearby Vanguard operatives.

"One moment." she bade of them as Acid's transmission came in, his words heard most clearly from a hidden speaker in the terminal, the Lady Grey answering with an ordinary, "Understood..."

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

"What do you speak of?" Sah'Teece wanted to know from Randall Grey, "I believe you underestimate the complexity of bridging the multiverse. It took both our and your most experienced minds in the field of gateway travel just to arrive here. The barrier established by Omega Team still stands, and it was not easy to circumvent."

"Agreed." Lk'Onik supported the other Rikti's opinion, and though he'd become coherent again, the Psi-Scout still trembled somewhat from what he'd discovered, "Departing...departing now is simply not an option. We must..."

He quieted down for a moment as the Khelari's voice came over his headset, the transmission audible within Sah'Teece's helmet as well. Responding as guardedly as he could, Lk'Onik reacted by attempting to pick up the ambient thoughts of Ghost or Hammerhead.

This didn't go to say he tried to 'read' their minds. Almost all intelligent creatures' (no matter if they were organic, technological, or otherwise in nature) conscious thoughts streamed into the world around them like waterfalls of sensation. Nearly just as many didn't even know this, humanity included. Beings capable of 'listening in' on this mental scatter could quite literally discern the thoughts of those around them without ever even wandering near their minds.

In addition, such a process could be difficult to guard against. In almost all cases, hiding one's thoughts depended solely on mental discipline and experience, and in all cases it had nothing at all to do with power. If the black-clothed sniper and wrapped man didn't possess this discipline, it wouldn't be any trouble at all for a Psi-Scout like Lk'Onik to pick up on their ambient 'thought leaks'.

If this did indeed fail, however, the Rikti would take a more direct approach and directly attempt to enter their minds to get at the information he sought. Since both these processes could proceed at the speed of thought (in this case, of a Rikti), the time taken couldn't even be consciously measured...

I could practically feel my wide-open eyes bulge from my head, the scene before me having somersaulted with such terrible speed that I had trouble assimilating what had actually happened. Kirov lay motionless on the floor, sprawled back in a haphazard fashion, the man’s brains staining the metal plating behind the doctor’s head with a sickening puddle of fluids that slowly spread its crimson tint. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Seconds became minutes, my mind only slowly wrapping itself around the sight of Koschev’s smoking gun deadlocked in its firing position. Had I not been sure the holes sat in Kirov’s forehead, the Russian may as well have had a death grip on the heavy pistol, his fingers cramped about the weapon in a frightening manner.

“I…” he started, his speech coming in an unsteady stutter, the agent looking to Rimsey and me nervously as we lowered our weapons in perception of the new situation, “I…I panicked.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” another voice gave a reply most sudden and unexpected, the three of us having believed ourselves to now be all in the room, “That was pretty unexpected.”

We’d of course already found the source of the voice. But if I had trouble to wrap my mind around the shot dead doctor, then I had some real issues with a talking statue. Make that a talking, breathing, and most certainly moving statue. Our pistols whipped back up almost immediately.

“Something slap the speech out of you?” the dragonesque sculpture that clearly wasn’t one mocked us in a soft, amiable tone as it stepped off its pedestal with motions that reminded me of a tiger circling its prey. If this thing was anamatronic, then the architect had certainly outdone anything I’d seen before, the counterfeit statue sliding past us with downright fluid grace, bones and muscle visibly rippling beneath the stony exterior as clawed feet clacked across the floor, “Yes, you’re quite correct. I am not a statue. And no, I’m not a mind reader either. I just happen to have access to an excessively powerful calculator, which in turn allows me a good guess at predicting your actions.”

“Although,” the phony sculpture sighed with a look at the fallen Kirov, its saurian head turning to the three of us again, “it would seem I’ve still got much too little information about you to predict everything. Now then, I do believe that’s enough of me just blathering on. No doubt you’d like some answers.”

“Yes please.” Rimsey inserted a weak nod into his stare of disbelief, which likely didn’t look all that different from my own at that point. However, I like to think I was the first to catch myself.

“I’d like to start with the dead man on the floor.” I demanded forcefully, shoving my gun ahead a bit further, wanting to indicate that I aimed squarely at the creature’s head, “You were controlling him, weren’t you?”

“Yes and no.” the creature returned with a chuckle and a grin so toothy it sent chills down my spine. Only now did I even realize its maw stood filled to the brim with what I’d imagine the teeth of a shark looked like adapted to a snake, “First, that is not a man. It is the biological cocoon mask of a Vario unit. Yes, it’s a live – well, at least it was until you shot it – but more in the sense of an amoeba than anything else. The mechanical core is quite unharmed. And second, I’m afraid you’ve been chasing a phantom. Dr. Alexei Kirov is my humble person. Of course, that’s just an alias. If you find any comfort in it, please feel free to call me Vern.”

“I am not buying this.” the Russian snorted through his nostrils, drawing the hammer back, “I do not suppose you have any proof?”

“None you’d believe if you’re so thoroughly convinced I’m telling you a fairy tale.” Vern smirked good-naturedly, “But if you’d just like to shoot me, you’re welcome to try. You’re not going to succeed, I can tell you that much. However, if you’d like to keep an open mind, have a look for yourself.”

With the sickening sound of rending flesh, the corpse’s chest cavity ripped open form one moment to the other, shirt, skin, muscle, and bone tearing wide open as a shining silver cylinder roughly half a meter long and not a fifth as wide extracted itself from the body in a gradual hover, held in the air by ghostly hand.

“This is the Vario unit.” Vern explained slowly, clearly taking into account that we needed a little time to absorb the scene as the cylinder extended first its uppermost portion at the end of a long, telescopic neck, and then followed this up by deploying a pair of spindly arms and legs from miniscule openings in its casing, eventually forming a full humanoid – complete with fingers and toes – that greeted us with a friendly wave of the hand form its ‘forehead’. I almost expected it to tell us, “Top of the morning,” but the machine remained silent.

“Glad to see you’re being reasonable.” the creature remarked with a slight shrug of its wings as Koschev lowered his gun, Rimsey and I following the Russian’s example. Even if we hadn’t now been able to see the body sans robotic core sat essentially as nothing but a nearly empty organic shell, the fact that Vern had spoken true about the Vario’s identity probably meant our guns wouldn’t have been of much use either, “I guess I better start off with the general who, where, when, how, why. Acceptable, yes? Good.”

His full name was Sabre Vern, although in his culture the last came first, much like in Japan. He called himself a Krayten, and told us not to worry about where he’d come from. Supposedly, we hadn’t even discovered his home system yet. Surprisingly, him being extraterrestrial in nature didn’t throw me much for a spin at all. From what I could tell, neither did it Rimsey and Koschev. I chalked it up to the general plethora of non-normal things we’d already seen having overwhelmed our respective astonishment meters. I stood willing to be that more than likely, from here on out things would just be taken at face value, no matter how weird they got.

The Labtower certainly qualified there. According to Vern, we were currently just above the Kamchatka peninsula, deep within the mountains of the Koryak Range. Unlike my previous suspicions, the depression the structure sat in wasn’t a crater that had formed from its impact, but rather only an oddly shaped valley. The Labtower had been constructed on Earth, or Terra, as Vern kept referring to the planet as, and although the materials used to assemble it stemmed form other worlds, the structure itself had not made any sort of planetfall. I admit, at this point in time, taking things at face value became harder and harder. Just the terms this being used – parsecs, stellar routes, other civilizations, planetfall, hyperspace and associated paradimensional physics – they were a bit much to take in.

Indeed, that seemed to be the reason Vern had adopted the persona of Alexei Kirov to begin with. With the doctor’s appearance and the company General Cosmic to his name, the alien had been able to move around freely on our world for the past two years now, all the while using his human alias to forge connections with men of science and business alike – and he hadn’t limited himself there. From what I could filter out of the conversation, he’d slipped his claws into just about everything human society ran on, observing and studying us closely, learning from every little bit that we took for granted. In addition, just to be sure he could react to anything unexpected (which according to him had happened rather often; he even called us humans weird in numerous occasions), he’d disguised himself as Dr. Kirov’s good luck charm whenever the situation necessitated his alter ego making a public appearance. I almost couldn’t believe he’d just coated himself with a fine powder, and that had been that. I’d expected a much more complex and otherworldly method of camouflage. However, as grand as the whole scheme already loomed, nothing could have prepared me for the last of the five: why.

End Report Agent Dietrich

The door hissed open like something straight out of Star Trek, with the exception that nobody had bothered to paint the material. Or if someone had, they’d chosen a hue so metallic and silver-gray it created a blur to the very alike surrounding wall. Beyond the door, the scene didn’t differ much. What we’d expected to find as an office seemed to be nothing more than a drab, rectangular chamber that stood longer than wide. A few of the crates we’d seen at the train terminal sat here and there, but only a few had been unpacked.

“Still under construction I’d wager.” Rimsey remarked, passing a palm over the crate closest to him, “Feels like plastic. Probably airtight.”

I made my agreement known with but an agreeing nod. Pistol securely between both of my hands, I treaded cautiously as we made our way to the far wall, my reasoning that there might sit a door in there having taken hold in the Russian and Brit as well. Still, my eyes couldn’t help but wander, stopping time and again at the curious holes in wall and ceiling. Most weren’t very large, though a couple had enough space in them to squeeze an elephant through. Arranged in a seemingly random fashion, utterly no pattern of placement that we could make out, the room’s semblance to a block of Swiss cheese stood out as its second-largest mystery.

The first was the statue.

“Okay, seriously.” Koschev’s brow furrowed as he beheld the carving, “What is it with this thing? Why does he carry it everywhere?”

He’d taken the words right out of my mouth. The statue was the very same one Kirov had taken on board the train. It depicted a dragon, though in my opinion, quite crudely – as a quadruped that stood about the size of a large dog, maybe a Great Dane. The sculptor hadn’t even bothered to give it any horns or ridges down its back, and the curves of the face seemed just unnaturally smooth to me. In addition, the sculpture’s four feet had been given only three clawed toes. I knew Chinese dragons had at least four, and I was fairly sure the ones in European folklore had no less. Maybe that was it? Could a dragon statue missing toes really be a good-luck charm?

“Ah, gentlemen!” a loud, burly voice snapped me from my thoughts, causing me to whirl about in its general direction. I instantly recognized it as Dr. Kirov’s, and was by no means surprised to see him as the source. However, the fact that he spoke from behind the far wall, which had had the gall to become fully transparent while we’d been staring at the sculpture, was indeed unexpected.

“It is so very good to see you.” the bulky man continued, chuckling jovially within his snow-white lab coat as he snapped his fingers, resulting in hidden machinery drawing the newly see-through wall into the ceiling, “I had already feared you might have given in. Glad to see me stand corrected.”

“I’m so very happy for you.” I sneered, not giving him the benefit of a doubt. My pistol’s barrel aligned smoothly with his head, “Now spill it already. What is all this?”

“I call it a Labtower.” Kirov’s smile broadened visibly despite the thickness of his beard, “I know, I know, it’s not much to look at yet. The tree makes all the difference, trust me.”

My answer was but a blank, silent stare. I didn’t even bother to ask what tree. I had a feeling the answer wouldn’t help me much, and I could clearly see Rimsey and Koschev trailed along the same lines of thought.

“Gesundheit.” I muttered as a quick sneeze reached my ears, assuming one of them had been the source. I didn’t even notice neither gave retort in confirmation or denial, focused too intently on finding a question in the form of the function that would make the Slavic oddball standing across from us tell us what we wanted to know.

“Allow me.” he went on before I could complete this task, “My guess is the following: you are wondering where you are, what purpose this structure serves, if those constructs you ran into earlier are truly robots, how falling upward is possible, who I really am, if I work for someone else, and if so whom, and just what ‘the deal’ here is with all of it. Unless I am forgetting something…am I?”

“No, you pretty much summed it up there.” Rimsey’s head bobbed vertically, his weapon’s aim not wavering either, “Are you a mind reader?”

“Do not be silly.” came the answer as the doctor reached toward the inside of his lab coat, “I merely have…”

“Stop!” I warned him with a firm shout, thrusting my pistol ahead a bit further, “C’mon now, don’t do anything stupid!”

“Perish the thought.” Kirov replied, continuing with the motion after he’d frozen for a moment or two, “I merely wish to show you what…”

At that moment, my fears came to life. Without warning, the room exploded with a sound of thunder.

((Maybe...>.&gt)

"Thanks." was Acid's only remark as he thoughtfully scratched his throat, playing the old game of discerning the last place he'd look for something. Inevitably, said location would be where he'd find it.

In this case, the object in question was of course a flyable ship - which despite now having been narrowed down in location could still be in any number of places. Either way, he was fairly sure Ineffable could handle the inept attacker on his own...

...and right into the staff of the Sword Sorcerer, resulting in the Archon clotheslined.

"Before you do anything foolish..." Auswitch heard the armored man say as he bent over the Archon's body just enough to be clearly visible, the staff's hilt coming into contact with the ground a few centimeters from his shoulder, "...well, more foolish, permit me to remind you that some of my associates may very well be qualified as pathological, bloodthirsty, homicidal maniacs. You would do well to not give them reason to incinerate and slash or decapitate you..."

The Security Chief gave a not of approval to Sheldon, but retained a somber glare within his eyes; the sort of undertone that often accompanied a common agreement between two people whose methods differed.

He raised an arm toward the portal, motioning toward it with an outstretched hand. There wasn't any need for words now. The gate stood ready...

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

The heavy step of Acid's work boots echoed eerily through the deserted corridors of the assembly yards. The reptilian knew what he sought, and following the path of logic, exactly where it would be. With an innate, near-perfect sense of direction, he pursued his goal.

"Okay..." his slitted eyes scanned about, "Where am I?"

In other words, he was so lost. It was to be expected, really. The shipyard may not have looked like much on the surface, but its works stretched on for kilometers below the moon's stone, descending into its bowels by the same measure. Simply put, it was a maze down here - like an automobile factory where everything had been scaled up a thousand fold.

Looking out across a half-completed discus ship through a transparent vista, Acid's clawed fingers tapped on the wrist of his other hand behind his back. The super-sized cylinder on the other side of the window gallery held the partially completed Rikti mothership securely in place with invisible hands as robotic fabricators attached piece after piece to the hull. The Khelari estimated its time to completion not long off, but still too long for their tastes.

His gaze drifted about through the amber transparencies, the panes leaning concavely away due to the ceiling's larger dimensions. As far as he could tell, this corridor circled the assembly chamber in its entirety, and like galleries both above and below this level indicated more. But as vast as the cylindrical chamber might be, the floor and ceiling high above and below were what really caught the reptilian's eye - as far as he could tell, the seams zigzagging through them indicated them as horizontal doorways.

Okay, so if this section assembles the outer hull, then there's probably a concurrent auxiliary vessel line around here somewhere, right?

Right. Probably closer to the surface. This line looks vertical.

Quite. And good sense dictates one doesn't perform final outfitting until the core structure's fully assembled.

And flight tested.

Right, right...so chances are not anywhere down here, but closer to the field.

Bingo.

Point taken. Oh...and is it weird that I'm talking to myself here?

Nope. Not at all.

Ah, okay. Just making sure.

Acid's left eye quirked a bit as Toy's transmission came in, the Khelari not hesitating to respond, "Not to throw a wrench in your works there, but I don't think you'll find much beside the landing field on the surface. This me's in an assembly line several clicks down right now, an I'm seeing discus ship hull plating welded on. Logic dictates the smaller ships used as auxiliary vessels should be somewhere in-between myself and the surface, but definitely under it still..."

Schwarzherz regarded Darkvapor with a bored glare.

"It was a figure of speech." the dark General explained, "I meant the 'omnipresent, ultra-powerful, bla bla bla' floating about leading you people on a million false trails for his amusement. Hey, that's just my opinion on the matter. Take it or leave it, as you will. As for me, I have a job to do. And no, I'm afraid you are unable to 'double my payment'. I am not a mercenary, you must know..."

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

The Watcher let out a sigh. Well, it wasn't like he hadn't known that was coming. It was simply a little annoying that this was already the second time. The Watcher slowly began to get a good mind to just ignore fake directions and just take the task force straight to Brighid Moreira...

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

The Sword Sorcerer let out a sigh, then urged Klaus on, "Well, go ahead and read it. I'm fairly sure the Council is regrouping as we speak..."

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

Having been left on her own, the Sword Colonel took a moment to relax, seating herself on a large piece of rubble to check her rifle through. The tracker trotted about her once or twice, then lay down beside said chunk. Hopefully, it wouldn't be long before the task force moved again...

"Right." Acid gave a nod at Cher'tak's mention, "You guys went to portals like the Akho with archway transmitters. There probably isn't even a hangar here."

"Let us not jump to conclusions." Sah'Teece intoned, "The Jade Moon is essentially a giant shipyard. Even if there's none in this section, there has to be something flyable in at least one of the assembly yards."

"We agree." the Lady Grey gave her opinion on the matter, crossing her arms, "Which means you shall need to locate one. We are not willing to compromise the current link back to Earth, and thus far every other portal generator Our forces have come across has been demolished - some beyond repair. We shall summon aid from Portal Corporation, but it may nevertheless take considerable time. A ship is currently the only option that does not entail considerable risk of delivering you into hostile hands."

"Speak of the floater." Acid remarked with an annoyed sigh as Ghost and Hammerhead ran toward them, and had he had money to spare, he would've already taken bets on what would happen next. Regarding the paramilitary man and crimson-eyed wrapped fellow with a disappointed book for a moment, he turned to Jake to give the youth answer, "I'll see what I can do. There's only two of me here though, so please don't expect instantaneous results."

With that, the reptilian vanished in literally no time, and a brief rush of air shot from all directions into the vacuum his teleportation had left behind. The force wasn't enough to cause anyone grief, however, packing barely enough impulse to drag a hypothetical sheet of paper across the floor for less than a second.

"We carry no interest in such an argument." the Lady Grey told the quarreling parties, then began to head back toward the portal chamber, "We suggest you settle this before Our scout returns with a vessel. There will be no tolerance of strife once we are underway once more. If anyone needs Us, We shall be in Communications, phoning home."

If anyone cared to try and discern the mentioned location, they'd find this rather difficult until she'd actually reached it. The ops center filled more than half of the large chamber, consoles and other various equipment huddled mostly along the walls that ran from one blast door to the portal chamber entryway, and then on to the second heavy gate. Vanguard operatives and machinery had clustered in this U-shaped area in a somewhat random, yet still organized pattern, and divided the section into different substrates: Mechanical, Munitions, Medical, Communications, Command, Research, and Mechanical II, spread out from one end of the U to the other in that order.

The individual sections stood modeled after the Vanguard Compound back on Terra, with each Mechanical substrate servicing the HVAS units, Munitions providing what equipment might be needed for combat (or to just enhance general performance), Communications aligned with the portal chamber's entryway, and the other sections serving their more or less self-explanatory purposes just like their counterparts back in the human world.

Vanguard personnel kept every station manned and attended to, even performing the guard and patrol duties the military men usually handled back in their compound under White Plains. In addition, the HVAS units not currently linked into a maintenance hub stood by watchfully at locations precisely chosen to cover as much area as possible in case of an emergency.

And as the Lady Grey began to speak into the microphone of Communications' main console (which faced the portal generators), the duo of HVAS units and assorted guards in the gateway chamber already stepped aside slightly to allow room for the expected Portal Corporation technicians...

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

"I certainly understand, ma'am." Unai Kemen spoke into his side's counterpart to the console Lady Grey currently manned. He'd been called over to the terminal by the Longbow monitoring communications from the Rikti homeworld, "I'll have technical personnel to you ASAP. It might take me a while to...hey, wait a minute. I just remembered something."

Placing the earphones back onto the console, he turned in the general direction of the assemblage of bio- and technoforms, letting out a loud whistle to call for their attention. He followed with a wave to them, "Hey, guys! They got technical problems over there and could use some more brainpower! Medical expertise too, probably - I hear C'Kelkah's still out cold...!"

"Um, ma'am..." a passing Longbow agent turned her attention to Essex, having overheard the conversation, "You are at Portal Corporation. Would you like me to get one of the techs here to have a look at you...?"

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

Acid remained silent at Cher'tak's paraphrase, taking his time to carefully listen to every word. The Lineage of Science still held a major amount of power in this world, even though the Lineage of War had currently assumed true leadership.

Still, without the support of this body, Hro'Dtohz and his forces didn't have much influence here at all. If Nemesis swayed the Rikti populace in favor of his agenda, things could get very bad for humanity indeed. Worse yet, such a distraction would likely allow the Prussian to seriously move up his timetable.

"I seriously doubt you'll need to worry about breathing whatever's floating around in the high atmosphere." the reptilian took a moment to point out, a finger wandering about the planet's faraway image, "Those are high-altitude clouds. The ground's got air just like your planet. Well, maybe a little different."

"He is correct." Sah'Teece confirmed, "Our atmospheres are very alike near the surface. The discoloration of the high atmosphere is merely an after-effect of a recent magnetic field trough. And by 'recent', I mean a few centuries ago. The scars you see, however, are very inhospitable. Your word 'wastelands' describes them very effectively."

"You mean to tell me Nemmy did all that with his automaton attacks?" Acid questioned disbelievingly, seeing devastation on a planetary scale, "I might be naive there, but..."

"No, you misunderstand." the former athlete interrupted, adding hand gestures to explain himself better, "These scars are of war, yes - but their true causes lie far in the past. There existed a few archeological sites before the Human War, but ever since Nemesis' counterfeit heroes attacked, they have sat barren. Thus far, all we know of this ancient war is that it resulted in what you see. Nothing more."

"This is all very fascinating," the Lady Grey remarked, "but We nevertheless recommend we find some way down there. Sir Zero, is your ship capable of ferrying us all?"

"Negative." the Khelari gave answer through closed teeth, his clawed hands performing a helpless shrug, "Even if I could move it right now, it's only a two-seater. We'll need more. There's gotta be some Rikti ships around here somewhere, right? I mean, I didn't scan any, but that probably just means they're powered down."

"Logic would suggest so." the head of Vanguard replied, turning to the Warmaster, "Any ideas on such a location...?"

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

The HVAS units belonging to Gaussian's Sword division remained motionless as the quartet entered through the portal. Standing to either side of the transport terminal, the duo of machines had their orders - as did the ones standing here and there in the main chamber. Assaulting security-cleared individuals was certainly not one of them.

Vanguard's personnel could have cared less about the four cloaked runners. The HVAS units weren't shooting them, so it stood to reason they were just another gaggle of heroes or villains who'd joined the expedition. Now that the portal functioned both ways again, traffic through would increase; this was only natural...

Well, I guess there ya go.

Buckman let out a chortle at Darkvapor's words, commenting with a wry smirk to the General, "Hey, this guy's funny."

"I shall never understand your sense of humor, Sergeant." Schwarzherz retorted, the radiant crimson orbs that served as his eyes becoming semi-horizontal slits. He turned to Darkvapor again, "I'm afraid you're making too many assumptions. I know of this 'task force' and its goals, and if you're with them I can assure you Sir Bruhaha floating about out there and torturing your little band has nothing to do with me or my employer. Thusly, I seriously doubt you can offer anything of interest to us. Furthermore, I'm not exactly a very helpful person. Why would I bother...?"

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

The Sword Colonel stood only slowly from her prone position, not having expected the Council troops to go flat this quickly. Helmet sweeping to and fro, it was obvious she still stood weary, expecting another attack at any moment.

"That was too easy." she finally uttered her thoughts verbally, carefully stalking into the cavern, "Be on the lookout for anything. This whole thing's highly suspect."

Indeed it was, and not only with every pocket of resistance simply collapsing at once - just like the Clockwork all over again - but also with the designation of the chamber's exits. No respectable military organization, especially one such as the Council, would use these as such. This whole thing smelled more and more like another set-up.

"Careful, you two!" she yelled after Dax and Bladewing, "This place is starting to look really fake!"

"And yes, I do think we could use a little more brainpower." the Sword Colonel then turned to Klaus, "As for where we're heading, I'm going to second Dusan's idea and go..."

"Over here!" shouted the Sword Sorcerer as he emerged from the passage that led to the prison, waving to the group as the tracker slipped into the main chamber beside him, "I think you'll find this most interesting..."

"Hm, I see." Hotaka remarked with a nod, considering Block Bot's take, "Then I suppose we'll start with a technicality: dragons aren't shape shifters. That's only a myth we disseminated a long time ago to make people a little more careful. Police as such are still a relatively novel concept, you know. For a good while, humans had only their own morality to do so - and that didn't always work too well."

"Good times." Baalial snickered in commentary, "But yes, that's about the size of it. He just uses a seeming to look human. Nice one, too. But he hasn't..."

"...managed to get the compression spell to make me smaller than three meters." Ryuu huffed with a growl to his demonic compatriot, "I know. And I'm working on it. Shrinking isn't as easy as you'd think..."

Ineffable and anyone else who chose to storm the main chamber found they'd greatly misinterpreted the situation. Vanguard operatives were all about, but certainly not in combat. Except for the few that the Psi-Scout had barreled by and/or through, the personnel busied themselves with finalizing their equipment set-up.

Indeed, it had been somewhat silly to think otherwise. Lk'Onik had last been seen in deep concentration, taking a closer look at the Rikti mental network with methods most covert. It stood to reason that what had upset him so lay upon the mental plane, not the physical.

Of course, in actuality it turned out to be a mixture of both.

The translator may still have been warbling nonsense, but to Cher'yak and Sah'Teece, the reason was quite clear - he simply thought too fast for the machine to keep up. To a Rikti, however, his words rang clear as day in the mind.

It didn't take him but a few moments to convey the news: Nemesis had practically taken the leadership of the Lineage of Science whole, replacing member after member with finely crafted machines of deception - automatons so sinisterly chameleonic in nature even the Rikti couldn't tell them from their own unless they subjected the mechanoids to extreme scrutiny, as Lk'Onik had done.

Nemesis had taken his second step. And as the Jade Moon's orbit gave rise to the Rikti homeworld on the horizon outside the main chamber's window gallery, the planet showed its scars.

The celestial orb was still Terra, no doubt about it - or more precisely, it had once been. War had wracked this world, this was undeniable, the atmosphere carrying a foul taint of venomous greens and yellows as penance for the scourge of war...

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

With the situation defused before it had gotten out of hand, Unai Kemen ordered the alarms liquidated again, Longbow personnel about returning to their former duties.

True, the group gathered here behaved mighty strange, but when one had seen as many things as the Security Chief, one learned not to ask questions. With the portal up and running properly again, they could depart any time they wished. If anyone asked, Kemen would be sure to explain to them the destination and current situation there: the site had been secured, and the Vanguard task force currently looked for a way to the Rikti version of Terra.

Currently, however, he busied himself performing the same task Matt had just set out to accomplish - and the audio clip by no means pleased him. Everything pointed to the conclusion that a Malta Operative had made contact with either his own or another cell, and that yet another such squad had listened in on the conversation.

Most likely, it had been for blackmail purposes. Malta's goons were famous for carrying dirt on even their closest associates, though for just what reason no one quite seemed to know.

"Odd." the Security Chief commented, scratching his head, "Who in the world talks like that...?"