DeviousMe

The image wasn't an image - it was quite decidedly a corporeal, physical presence. Disconcertingly enough, that was just about all Force Tech got from the being. It seemed the intruder was rather adept at concealing information.

"Funny." the reptilian chuckled, his saurian lips curling into a wry smile as he spoke to the Avatar, "I was gonna ask you the very same thing. But then, I already know the answer to that. I take it you're the big geyser around here? Yeah, of course you are, why am I bothering to ask? I guess because old habits die hard."

His eyes wandered to Force tech for a moment, then he continued, "As for my appearance, well, there wasn't exactly a front door. But let's get down to business. I'm a practical person, so I'll state things as clearly as I can."

His eyes narrowed at the Avatar, "Leave. Now."

After a moment, he added, "Please..."

The laboratory was nearly silent, only the steady hum of machines and steps of the Lacerta on the floor wafting through the room.

Until another pair of feet joined from seemingly nowhere at all.

"Hi there." said a firm, yet gentle tone behind Force Tech Guardian, "Find out anything more about that robot yet?"

If Force turned, he would see the same figure the cyborg strike team had seen, the slim frame and deep-green, scaleless hide immediately giving the being away as most definitely not Lacerta.

Just how he'd gotten there, no one was quite sure, even people who'd been watching the spot behind Guardian the whole time. He'd just appeared, as if willing himself into existence right then and there.

And the bulging pockets of his modern, decidedly non-mu-vestment attire, not to mention the weapons slung diagonally across his back, didn't quote convey the line of, "I come in peace." even if the reptilian had said so...

*BAFFLINGBEERMAN appears!*

Rather shocked by the sudden disappearance of his would-be assassin, the reptilian propelled himself back to the surface of the magma pool, clawed hands grasping the edge of the ramp already within reach of the assault bot that now came down the metallic bridge.

"Dammit, I already had a bath today! What's the big idea?!" the creature growled, now in fluent English, but found no one around to listen anymore.

"I don't care if it was technically a shower," he continued to grumble to an unseen and unheard conversationalist as he shook quickly hardening rocks as well as small gobs of magma from his clothing, "you get the idea. And now I've got rocks in my boots. I hate rocks in my boots."

As he sat down on the ramp to free the wear of his clawed feet from the hardened magma in the form of igneous pebbles, the reptilian also turned to the assault bot, "Alright boys, looks like they know we're here. So stealth mode, make sure you're not discovered. I'm fairly sure these yahoos won't leave if I ask them to, but on the odd chance that they do, I'd rather not show up with an army right then and there."

"Understood." the mechanoid replied monotonously in its mechanical tone, and not a moment later became completely invisible in the entire electromagnetic spectrum.

Sure, things like sonic means or a measure of the spatial disturbances its mass caused (gravity) could still reveal it even through its cloak of dark matter, along with a few other things, but things that relied upon any sort of EM output (visible light, thermal, gamma, etc...) didn't stand a chance anymore.

The reptilian himself stepped to the edge of the chamber once he'd placed his boots back on, returning his heavy-looking rifle to the holster on his back as well.

"Alright Big M, where do I go?" he dialogued on with the person what wasn't there, even as his outline grew semi-transparent, followed by the creature stepping right into the wall...

My world practically collapsed.

Had I really just played exactly into this thing's...hands?

Had we really just lost? By my own merit?

No, it couldn't be - I'd followed my orders, observed procedures, done exactly what the rules...!

I had! They'd been using me all along, twisting my observance of our strategy to repel them to their own ends!

Now I was mad.

Rage vehemently kicked fear from my mind, yelling raucously never to return, and then took control with a vengeance.

If my observance of rules was so important, let's see what would happen if I didn't play by those rules anymore.

Luckily, my hand was just where it needed to be to pull that off - right at the clip of my belt that held a very special grenade.

In truth, it wasn't a grenade at all, but a strong emitter of hyperwaves, a sort of gravity well but with different frequencies of hyperradiation. It wasn't enough to alter the curvature of space, but damn it all to hell if it wasn't enough to give this freakin' salamander a pounding headache!

A shrill whine erupted for a fraction of a second, filling the room before its echo exceeded my audible range. But from the sudden twist of the Krayten's monstrous visage, he could still hear it - and he didn’t like it one bit.

"I don't think so!" he snarled viciously, and the doors to the chamber suddenly rammed shut with such force they cracked with thunder.

I scrambled away as the floor around me rose with speed, trying to imprison me. It was working - his influence was slowing down. To my great dismay, however, not so instantaneously as I had expected. Apparently, the Krayten could not only punch through a good level of interference, but also sense the hyperradiation and where it was coming from.

I immediately knew he'd try everything in his power to eliminate it, and the easiest way to do that was to eliminate me.

What had rage just gotten me into?

Luckily, the slowing of his influence allowed my escape from the floor, which swallowed nothing but thin air as I lurched away, biting through the burning pain of my insides - I'd pushed my body far already, and if I couldn't somehow end this quickly, I was sure it'd hand me a letter of resignation with no advance notice.

But I also had to reach the intercom at the far end of the chamber in order to inform the others that the first alert had been but a diversion. If they didn't find out soon...

Cold shivers ran down my spine.

No! I couldn't even consider that possibility! I would do this! I had to!

How, however, was another question entirely.

But as a fixture the Krayten had just thrown at me dropped to the floor with loud clatter, I saw my chance, bolting for the intercom. The radiation had finally won, robbing the beast of its horrid influence over space for at least a little while.

Now I had the upper hand.

Sadly, he had the upper jaw.

I didn't even see anything before a thousand needles pierced into my arm, a sudden force gripping me by the appendage and flinging me away like a frisbee, crashing into the wall yet again.

As I came to my senses once more, the pain in my arm thrust my eyes there, a myriad of bloody pinpricks in the material of the suit covering my upper arm.

The action of the Krayten told me all I had to know - pacing about from side to side in the predatory fashion of a large cat, the dagger-shaped tongue licking razor-sharp teeth gave it all away.

The creature had bitten me! And not only that, the teeth had actually penetrated the material of my suit! Not deeply, but enough to cause pain and draw a bi of blood, and that was saying something with powered armor.

I struggled to come to terms with that, but found it somewhat easier to accept than to deny in order to keep fighting. I only prayed he wasn't poisonous as well.

"No way you're getting to that." the Krayten hissed at me, lowering his neck ahead, his legs and wings in a position constantly prepared to lurch at me.

"Don't you realize what's going to happen if I don't?!" I bellowed at him as I stood, trying to stall for time while I salvaged the last pieces of my shredded plan, "Once they get here, you'll have no chance! They'll massacre you!"

"Then that's fine with me." his answer sent a shock down my spine, his demeanor eerily cold and terribly calm, "That's what you do for a f..."

I saw my chance, rolling low and to the side, feigning another go at the intercom as I gathered up a few pieces of sharp rubble, using them as makeshift shuriken as I ran.

But the Krayten was faster once more, closing swiftly, his long tail lashing out like a whip at my arm even as one of his wings enveloped me from the side, batting me back to another corner yet again.

My head rang of bells, my heart throbbed of pain, and I could feel every bone in my body. The Krayten was no pushover, even without his 'hands', and I had the horrid sensation he was just stalling as well, having access to a great many more resources than he was willing to show me.

"But you'll die!" I yelled back, continuing my tactic, but now with another strategy plan. The 'shuriken' had been poorly aimed, and what had hit the Krayten had just bounced off the being's tough hide, not even a scratch on him, "How can you succeed if you die?!"

"Oh, that's an easy one." he chuckled, "I'm just the distraction. Whether I go or not, the main force is well away from me, your precious defenses completely oblivious to their presence."

And suddenly, in that one instant, everything changed.

The exasperated scowl on my bloody lips curled into my very nastiest smile.

The Krayten's smirk grew cold, his eyes narrowing at me for a moment before his head whirled about, his gaze fixating on the intercom.

I'd never aimed the projectiles at him in the first place.

I'd only made him believe so with a wide scatter.

But one had hit its target.

The 'talk' contact on the intercom.

And now it was stuck in the plate, the contact permanently depressed. Everything we'd just said had run through the lines and out of every single intercom in the building.

I lunged forward as the shock occupied my opponent for a moment, forcefully slinging my arms around his neck, trying to grapple him to the ground.

Sadly, my plan was nowhere near as successful as I would've liked. I didn’t even manage to drag the Krayten down anywhere near as much as I'd planned. Apparently, my strength couldn't compare to the hellish gravity of Krayt.

A trio of claws ripped across my face, my right eye practically flayed from its socket as my whole vision went red with blood.

Pain mixed with a sudden sensation of weakness as a tail wrapped about my neck and squeezed like s snake, cutting off my air and leaving me gasping for breath, nearly crushing my windpipe.

As my world sank away into the dark, muddy realm of unconsciousness, I faintly perceived the sound of wrenched metal and sparking lines, the crimson hue over my eyes only allowing me a tiny glimpse of the monstrous Krayten ripping the intercom from the wall with his teeth.

It must have been painful, as I saw his own jaws now bloody, the tissue around his teeth having torn open on the relentless assault.

I couldn't understand his actions, couldn't comprehend his ways.

Perhaps I never would.

"You've all still lost - you just don't know it yet." was the last thing that reached my mind before my world sank away into the serene abyss of silent black...

The procession 'escorting' Hotaka back to his cell was likely one of the strangest. If onlookers didn't know better, it looked quite much like armed guards carrying nothing more than the statue of the man.

They knew trying to break his mediation was useless, and they'd given up a while ago when not even the strike of a Hard Suit's energy-charged fist had succeeded. Hotaka may as well have been a rock right about now.

Actually, they were somewhat glad. This allowed for a transport without fear he'd pull something (though he'd never done so openly before, the fear still persisted), and a very eventless journey.

They sat the tall man upon the floor of his cell and locked the door once more...

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

"Good work." Penny thought she heard the quiet whisper of a deep, almost guttural voice, but there didn't seem to be any source around.

Well, not anymore, that was - a second ago, she could've sworn there was another presence in the cell, aside from the thug she'd just shown respect for women...

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

The presence gliding through the area, however, was not lost upon a certain necromancer named Blind Messenger...

Standing in magma was quite difficult. It was a liquid, after all.

The molten rock gave way easily, sucking Pain Clutch under as he threw himself upon the rifle. He felt the length of the barrel shudder its report against his side, but whatever it had fired had gone wide, his abdomen no longer in front of the mouth.

The molten rock's terrible viscosity slowed his punch to a crawl, the clawed finger of a certain hand easily closing around his fist and tearing him down further into the magma.

Something wrapped about his left leg too with horrid speed, and if he could see at all in the molten rock, Pain Clutch would notice it was the reptilian's tail, assisting the hand in dragging him under, the free hand casually returning the rifle to its holster on the creature's back, as if there was nothing more natural for the being than to be submerged in red-hot magma.

He may also have noticed, however, that the lips of the toothy mouth were sealed tight, as were the nostrils at the front of the reptilian's head. Apparently, the creature still couldn't breathe the liquid rock, but it was most definitely capable of skirting about in the gooey magma as a fish in water.

The barrel of the rifle aimed for him again as he sank deeper and deeper, a click undulating its way through the liquid rock, which he could only guess came from the weapon...

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

((Actually only the assault bot has made a move so far - it's frame and shield are blocking the bots behind it from firing, and it takes up just about the whole corridor. ))

The panel didn't come off easily, but it did finally give. However, there were no wires underneath it. There were no control panels down there either - those were in the cockpit above the nose, and to get there Hurt Machine would have to make it past quite a few angry-looking mechanoids.

As well as the ship itself, apparently.

The moment he'd torn the panel loose, what lay beneath it whirred to life - a dual-barreled turret that somewhat resembled Malta bio-feedback guns, also known as Sapp Sticks.

On the opposite wall from the entrance, another panel slid away to reveal a second such turret, and then they tried to lay into him with great accuracy (they weren't stupid enough to catch anything friendly in their crossfire either), as the hulking assault bot tried to once again smack him right out of the ship with a swipe from its left cannon arm...

A smile crossed my lips. It was always good to have a reputation. At times, it was the only thing that could bail you out if you happened to get in over your wings.

"He made it." I stated, peering down the hole the man had dropped through. I didn't have to, but at times actually seeing something was a comfortable affirmation.

"Perfect." Allen nodded as I turned to look at him, kneeling beside me to get a better look at the abyss as well, "He suspect anything?"

"I don't think so." I answered as he rose, "I had to open a hatch, but there's almost no chance he noticed it was me."

"Alright, so everything's going according to plan." he let out s slight sigh, "So far, so good."

"Let's hope it keeps." I added as his troopers started to gather up the fallen soldiers, "Casualties?"

"Three." Allen broke the news directly. No need to beat around the spire, "Two were too close when the door went, and one of 'em wanted to throw an ion charge when his shield went and a paralyzer got him. There's not much left."

I didn't answer.

"It was to be expected." I felt a hand between my shoulders, "All we can do is minimize, and you know that. There's no way you could've known they'd sniff around the stupid door just before the explosion."

He was right, of course - but that didn't exactly make me feel any better. It wasn't the act of killing, the conscious termination of another life, either. There existed people who I wouldn't hesitate to end at a moment's notice. But...

"Alright, let's get moving." Allen's hand gave me a tap as he stepped towards the door, "He'll be reporting our progress soon. You sure you can handle this?"

"I'll be alright." I retorted with a hint of malice, "Not the first time, remember?"

"We still think you should have an escort, Sir." a trooper took the words right out of Allen's mouth, the general only nodding silently as I looked up at him.

"I get you guys don't like this plan." I chuckled lightly, closing my eyes for a moment, "But the only way we're going to get through this is if they think we're heading in a different direction - and once they figure out it's just me..."

"…which none of us doubt they will," Allen sighed, "they'll let off you and come charging at us. And once they do that, our Glass Dagger takes over. Vern, you don't have to lecture me on my own strategy."

"Just thought you might need a reminder." I smirked, "It's a good plan, and you know it. It's got substance. I wouldn't have jumped in if I didn't think so."

"You still didn't have to pounce on it right away..." Allen grumbled quietly, but finally resigned. As he clamped onto one of the transformers I'd left intact, he turned to me once more, "Just come back in one piece, okay?"

"No promises." I retorted, "But I'll do my best."

"Right." he nodded, and with that he was gone, the full division dropping down along the cylinders to the lower levels to continue the assault where the enemy now least expected.

I stopped in front of the transformer hall's second gate for a moment, looking the blast door up and down. A deep breath to relax, a bit of wing spread to reduce tension.

Showtime.

With a horrid, cacophonous squeal, the alloys of the gate bent to my whim, wrenching apart under the pressure I applied to literally rip the door's innards to shreds.

I didn't have arms, nor did I ever feel the need for any. My mind was the only tool I'd ever needed to see and interact with the world around me. Indeed, I pitied most creatures, which could not understand what I did, not see what I saw.

An object wasn't just an object to me, but so much more. A region of empty space was filled with possibilities, and time itself was just a flow within the massive myriad of the cosmic stream.

Matter, energy, space, time - the four fundamental components of this universe, and so many others. Ever-present, ever-changing, static and dynamic, still and never stopping, an infinity of infinities of conversions and redirections - that was my world.

And I knew how to use it.

It didn't take long before I needed to, either. Upon entering a small junction chamber, the enemy and I mutually stumbled across one another once more. I wasn't sure how or why (I don't believe in fate), but I was certain it was the very same man who'd 'escaped' just a short while ago.

Only now he had another troop with him.

"Surrender!" they commanded forcefully, the glimmering barrels of their thermocannons primed, just waiting for the quick squeeze of a trigger. But their tone had little confidence. There were nine, and all of us knew those odds were very uneven indeed.

Favoring me.

I noticed their eyes twitching, looking for the nearest intercom to call for backup with. Those were hardwired into the building, meaning we couldn't just trip them up with a jamming signal.

"And if I don't?" I chuckled viciously, my claws clacking ominously on the floor as I advanced towards them, doing my best to look intimidating - with a good many flaws, of course. Already berating myself, I could only hope they wouldn't see right through me, "Then what will you do?"

They didn't answer, opening fire instead.

I had no need to fear the sun-hot beams, twisting and turning their energies away as I pleased, the aura of heat washing over me only a comfortable bath of thermal currents.

Then the floor rose up beneath them, plating peeling loose as I imposed my force upon it, the ground wavering and quaking until they lost their footing.

I threw the plates forward like bits of paper in a storm, striking at their personal shielding, the potent contacts arcing pale-blue flares throughout the hallway.

Of course, they could take much more than that, but brining their shields down wasn't my objective right now. That I could casually leave to them.

And it didn't take long.

A misfire soon occurred, a thermocannon striking the shield of another soldier in an incident of friendly fire (which, incidentally, never is), and in that instant the verdict had fallen.

I'd won, they'd lost.

They just didn't know it yet.

I grasped control of the rifle of the unshielded soldier, thrusting it back and into his gut with a vengeance. The man doubled over in pain, gasping for air as his own weapon so brutally assaulted him, and then I crashed it into his head to follow up, robbing him of conscious brain function.

The rifle, however, was mine now, and before they even knew what had transpired, the roar of another bright-orange beam echoed, yet another soldier robbed of his shield.

His fate was the same as the first.

Now I had two rifles, tearing into their formation with what must have seemed like relentless rage - one weapon blasting, the other bashing into whatever body parts it could reach, and a new traitorous rifle joining the turncoat procession as shield after shield went down, faster and faster every consecutive time.

The soldier from before seemed to be the only one in the bunch without vapor for brains, bounding backwards and opening fire on the stolen weapons instead of me. His thermocannon cut through two, vaporizing the core parts and leaving little more of the rifles than a few bits of molten slag.

I had to admit, I was impressed - especially as he managed to get to the intercom before I could have 'my' rifles, get to him, the sun-hot beams blasting him away from the unit with sheer force of impact, ramming him into a wall at the other end of the chamber.

But a small red light on the intercom now blinked rapidly - he'd managed to touch the alert contact.

I watched as he strained to get up off the floor, a small trail of blood crossing his lips, likely from the vehement collision. And as he half-sat, half-lay there, he practically spat at me in defiance, "Now...now the whole base knows you're here."

I grinned my best evil grin as I chuckled maliciously, watching his eyes widen in the terrible realization he'd done just what I wanted.

The intercom exploded in a shower of sparks as I brought my neck forward to lower my head in the manner of the predator sure of its kill.

"Perfect..."

"Uh, dark?" Acid replied hastily and in a denying tone, "No, of course not, whatever would give you that idea? I'm not dark or anything..."

[ QUOTE ]
"I believe part of what you are sensing is coming from me, you have my apologies." Pyre said as he rescinded his shadow from her and her brother.

[/ QUOTE ]
Acid visibly relaxed at this, giving a nod, "There, see? No dark here."

Hotaka only gave an annoyed sigh...

Gentle Fist's plan did not come to fruition. The mechanoids took up pursuit quickly, the barrels of their weapon arms swiveling towards her even as they still advanced.

While solid matter could stop paralyzer fire, there had to be enough of it to dissipate the entire bolt, generally a few meters of solid object.

Most likely, a small statue did not qualify to do this. It might, however, lessen the effects of a potential impact. Of course, it didn't take overly keen powers of observation to see the robots were going to fire despite the statue - so either their programming was lacking severely, or they had good reason to do so anyway...

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

A clawed hand burst from the molten rock without warning, magma sheeting off the deep-green hide like water. An arm covered in the black sleeve of a jacket followed, the clawed fingers clasping onto the edge of the ramp.

Something that could only be described as the barrel of a high-caliber rifle followed, ripples of heat in the air dancing almost poetically about the sci-fi looking weapon. The thing advanced towards Pain's face, the gesture of 'don't move or I shoot' more than blatantly obvious...

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

If the assault bot was at all confused by the cyborg attacking a panel of the hull plating instead of the mechanoid, it certainly didn't show it.

Because it was essentially blocking the forces behind it from disembarking, however, the corridor the wall-stacked mechanoids left only about as wide as said assault bot, it had to move if the others should be able to fire as well.

And the only way to move was forward.

Through Pain Clutch.

The mechanoid advanced swiftly, one of its cannon arms roaring upwards from the floor like a hockey stick, attempting to bash the cyborg back out of the ship in a projectile arc...

Gentle Fist's arm impacted something alright, but it wasn't the mechanoid's head. A solid barrier of energies flare dup in a pale blue as she made contact, dispersing the force of impact effortlessly.

The barrier had been there all along - it just hadn't been visible, the standard wavelengths it operated under not within the visible spectrum, as well as a small band on either side of it. The forceful impact, however, had caused a disturbance in the field that expressed itself in the form of the blue luminescence.

The machine it protected, however, seemed to have taken offense to the strike. Reacting with mechanical speed and precision, both it and its counterpart brandished their weapon arms and opened fire with heavy paralyzers...

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

The reptilian seemed indecisive for a moment, but as Pain Clutch kept coming, his eyes narrowed, and he reacted to what seemed an obvious attack. He stretched a clawed hand toward the armorsuited man, the open palm facing towards him, and Pain's kick went into a barrier just like the one Fist had encountered, the air flaring up in a pale blue as his foot struck the field.

"Who...?" was all he had time to say before the contact, and afterwards things happened too fat to say anything else.

The creature had reacted too late, having neglected to affirm his footing in the moments of hesitation. The heavy armorsuit packed more than enough force behind a horizontal kick to knock the reptilian over and back, sending him right over the edge of the ramp.

With a great splash, the being disappeared into the magma pool...

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

Hurt Machine didn't get far, the space inside the geo ship obscenely cramped with the cargo it had carried up here. the interior resembled a troop transport, and in a sense, the ship was being just that.

Stacked in rows upon the walls, atop and behind one another, the larger assault models standing on the floor, were robots.

Lots.

And lots.

Of robots.

They were active - every last one of them. The crimson glow of their optical sensors made this all too obvious.

And the lead assault bot seemed to have taken note of the cyborg, advancing towards him with deceptively slow, lumbering steps...

((Since you misunderstood me last time, just assume the paralyzers are the regular red laser things the robots fire in-game, with the exception of invisibility - they don't 'stun' people, they'll just KO them.))

As he sped closer, Pain Clutch may have noticed this reptilian didn't exactly have scales, the hide just a deep-green, somewhat fibrous texture. Of course, he may just as well not have noticed this at all.

The creature, however, had undoubtedly noticed him - and by the way its eyes seemed to drill right through with a critically analyzing gaze, it didn't seem the being was surprised at his appearance.

However, it did not react just yet, waiting to see what he was actually up to.

The mechanoid did the same with Gentle Fist, turning its crimson lenses towards her in a mustering fashion, but this seemed to be the limit of its current reaction. The other machine didn't even move, and so it was a fair guess that what one of them saw, the other saw just as well.

Hurt Machine, however, may have been heading straight for disaster. Though there weren't any visible signs (such as a red-hot glow or anything), the outer hull of the geo ship was still nearly as hot as the magma pool its lower half sat in right now.

Landing on the thing would be something close to making contact with the molten rock itself...

A voice now came from inside the ship, a commanding yet requesting tone in a language no one in the room had ever heard of.

Not long after, a duo of what appeared to be protector bot contractions emerged from the craft, mechanically stomping down the ramp and across to the ledge of solid rock it had set its end on.

They took up position on either side of the ramp, then just stood there, apparently doing nothing useful whatsoever.

The source of the voice was quick to reveal itself, coming down the ramp after the mechanoids. The being was clearly a reptilian, but definitely not a Lacerta. Instead of a massive, broad frame the creature's somewhat slim form stood a little more than two meters tall, walking upright in a somewhat humanoid appearance.

However, the non-digitigrade legs and number of fingers seemed to be all it really had in common with a human, aside from the number of arms and legs, that was. The head had the skull of a dinosaur, a carnivore at that, the fine rows of sharp teeth that could be seen when the creature spoke making this all too evident.

A deep-green hide that carried the texture of some manner of leather served as skin, covering the creature from head to the tip of its long, whiplike tail, which swayed to and fro in a frustrated manner. These motions coincided with the tone of its speech - apparently, it was arguing with someone else. Someone who either wasn't responding or simply couldn't be heard for any number of reasons.

Clad in night-black cargo pants, heavy boots of the same shade, and an open jacket with white T-shirt underneath to complete the ensemble, the being drummed the clawed fingers of its right hand upon the body ridges above its eyes, a gesture suggesting it was trying to find some manner of winning whatever argument it had been involved in.

Apparently, it hadn't noticed the trio of techno-mercs, though the trio of weapon holsters on its back, carrying long, rifle-like armaments suggested it hadn't come here for a vacation...

"Well, aren't we the rude one?" the tall robed man retorted, crossing his arms, "I wasn't even addressing you. Why, I'd say..."

"Oh, come off it." sighed the figure in the heavy cloak, "His name's Ryuu Hotaka, and me they call Acid. Don't ask why, long story. But I gotta agree here, why're yalls trying to mangle up the KO'd guy? And why is just about everyone here asleep on the job? I mean, this is supposed to be a dojo, a school, right? If this happened while I'm teaching at the Academy, I know for a fact I'd break all hell loose..."

In one of the lowest points of Oranbega, something began to boil.

The floor.

It didn't take but a few seconds, a thermal spike of great magnitude liquefying dirt and stone, forming a lake of magma where there had once been solid floor.

In an inevitable secondary effect, superheated air rushed away from the chamber, mixing with cooler air and creating very noticeable winds throughout any area near the large chamber.

Then again, this was no covert operation.

A vessel burst from the magma akin to a submarine surfacing, the streamlined hull coated in layers of liquid rock that only slowly followed the pull of gravity back into the magma pool.

In proportion of the average dropship, capable of fielding a tank-sized vehicle or two, there could be no doubt the thing was a type of landing craft, though perhaps a somewhat unconventional one - the 'nose' opened wide, extending a short ramp to the edge of the now quickly-cooling magma pool.

The geo ship scanned about with various means. Was anyone there...?

A low hum sounded as the mechanoid reactivated, the cold crimson glare returning to its lenses.

It was still where it had been. The probability scenario had not completed. They hadn't taken it with them.

Well, that's bothersome. Hm, at least I got a reading off that portal of theirs. Shouldn’t be hard to figure out where...oh, what's this?

A routine diagnostic run had revealed something - a power receiver from the weapon arm was missing.

The loss wasn't overly worrisome. Integrated repair functions were already constructing another while they mended the damage the sword had done to one of the microreactors that served as the main power source of the unit.

The receiver's purpose was just that: to receive energy by wireless transmission, and then conduct it to the weapon assembly. Nothing special about that. The only odd thing that might come up to anyone analyzing it might be the extremely tiny size.

In a way, however, this was good. The part was traceable. Combined with the data from the portal, it wouldn't be hard to find...

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

The missing metal shavings went unnoticed by the diagnostic, the miniscule reduction in mass not enough to set off any maintenance procedures. If analyzed, however, the shavings would present the Lacerta with several findings, depending on their repertoire of knowledge about other civilizations of this galaxy.

Either they wouldn't have a clue what material this was.

Or they'd recognize it as a terconium alloy of exceptionally high quality - just about one of the most coveted material to build starship hulls in the galaxy. It wasn't especially hard to manufacture, and indeed in widespread use, but whoever had forged this particular alloy had gone to great lengths to ensure it was the very best it could be, down to a subatomic scale.

But no matter which observation was reached, both led to only one conclusion.

This robot had not been manufactured by humans...

The 'legendary' Hotaka, of course, was as unnoticed as ever at the top of the stands. Right now, everyone's attention was focused on the arena.

Well, everyone's except the combatants, maybe.

Hotaka smiled once again. Here and now - this was a fork in the path...

The icicle seemed to give Sword just the distraction he needed, his blade cleaving into the compound plating of the mechanoid's back.

Apparently, he'd been successful, as the machine sounded a low-pitched whine, a characteristic alert, followed by crumpling then and there, the crimson glow of the mechanical lenses replaced with only a matte black.

It had completely powered down.

Electric shock or radiation leak, however, there was none. Sword's suspicions had been right on the mark - the robot had been designed in a 'common sense' manner, which also tended to include failsafes that shut down potentially volatile components when damaged, before they could do harm to the rest of the machine...

((From your description, I'm taking Shield as some manner of SS/Inv. If I'm wrong, do please inform me. ))

As the Lacerta came charging again, the mechanoid seemed to be fed up with it. The right hand clicked and clacked with rapid pace, the drone's gun-arm switching to the weapon it had selected from its inventory.

It took aim with uncanny speed...

...and promptly tumbled over backwards as its left foot slipped on a suddenly appeared ice slick.

The weapon sounded viciously, a series of echoes that somewhat resembled a hiss mixed with a crack of thunder blasting through the sewers.

The shots themselves weren't visible to the naked eye, an innate characteristic of the paralyzer bolts the machine had loosed at its opponent.

The bolts went wide, however, strafing along the walls and ceiling as the drone fell backwards. Shield was missed entirely.

The pack of rats scampering away over a pipe, however, was not, the solid metal seeming to be no hindrance to the paralyzer bolts. The rodents tumbled from their place as if they'd been struck by lightning, their bodies frozen in their last moment of motion.

Paralyzers were meant to disable, not kill - and disable they did extremely well. A single bolt could strike down most living creatures into a state of complete motoric paralysis for a period of several hours. Even the massive Shied would have to take care here.

The Lacerta's blows sent the drone skidding back over the ice slick, and there were now very visible dents in the thing's main armor. Still, it seemed quite resilient, twisting back upright in a manner in which only a machine could, and loosed another trio of paralyzer bolts...

((Pretty sure it is. We seem to have subdivisions of the arena floor.))

The arena personnel worked to clear the area quickly, so as not to generate too large a gap in the schedule.

A gaggle of guards with a stretcher was soon upon Hotaka, a few lifting him from the crevice while the others stood to make sure he wasn't playing possum.

The retrieval, however, went without incident, and off to the infirmary adjacent to the arena they were...

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

"We are alone, Sensei."

Hotaka didn't hesitate at those words, rising with a sigh from the hospital bed he'd been placed in. The beds were housed in solitary compartments, just to make sure no prisoner could organize a sudden influx of patients, then attempt and escape by taking the hospital staff hostage.

The doors here were just as thick as the ones in the regular cells, and these solitary units had no windows through which to speak to the other inmates.

"Very good." Ryuu told the source of the voice, a man in the garb of medical personnel, resembling the uniform Crey Biotech issued to its medics to a tee.

Of course, the man was neither a doctor nor a Crey employee. According to the Zig's records, he didn't even exist.

"And what is the path of the Dragon from here on?" the man questioned, dumping a vial of regenerative drugs down the sink's drain, "I see we have a new student, hai?"

"We will see." Hotaka waved a hand uncertainly, hopping off the bed. The wound on his back wasn't there anymore - only the hole in his robes still bore witness there had ever been one in the first place, "As of yet...hehe...I suppose 'the Dragon' isn't quite sure yet..."

((Hmm, I see them over in Whitmoore...do they need to be poked with the attention stick? ))

The Lacerta's sudden lurch fulfilled its purpose well, though it wasn't entirely sure if the machine had truly been caught off-guard or it simply had orders to the contrary.

The right hook threw the mechanoid off-balance, the follow-up strike knocking it back and against the floor. The forceful contact almost immediately dispelled the active camouflage the machine had been using to hide itself, the contours now turning into a very definite form.

It followed the standard design of a battle drone alright, though the material gave off a blue-gray sheen even in the dim light of the sewers. In addition, there didn't seem to be any wires or lines running about in the joints. Either they were sealed tight or the machine didn't have any to begin with.

Even as the machine sprang back up, its red-glowing lenses seemed to focus both on and through Shield, as if it was verifying something. The metallic-looking material of its form didn't seem to have reacted much to the impacts at all, barely a scratch visible...

Hotaka smiled with satisfaction as the animated stone crumbled apart. She'd spotted the weak points, and acted upon her observation.

Good, but not quite enough. It would take time - but that was for another day. For the moment, she'd have what was necessary to survive.

"You've taken the first step." Hotaka nodded to her ominously as the dust cloud from earlier began to settle, the short time it had obscured the view into the crevice having passed, "Soon, you will take the second. Then the third. After that, it will not be long before your path reveals itself. Take my advice: follow it. It will lead you to what you seek."

Suddenly and without any prior warning, Hotaka dropped to his knees, the fell face-first into the dirt, the tall man's collapse almost creating the impression of a tree going over.

Only now could Penny see the large hole in the robes of his back, the fabric bloodstained from the sizeable wound in the man's flesh. Partially charred, there was only one source it could've come from.

The Archon's overcharged blaster fire.

Michael hadn't missed after all.

And as the dust finally cleared, the announcer's voice once more boomed through the arena...

Hotaka's wry smirk grew wider as he noticed what he'd suspected unfold - there was more to Penny than met the eye.

Her motions were characteristic of those anchored deep in the subconscious mind, something one had learned once upon a time and then resigned to the pile of forgotten memories.

But she was also holding back.

"You are holding your own, this is good." Hotaka told her, still being the original to the stone's mirror, though he was obviously not transferring his full skill to it, "But that will not be enough here. We do not have much time left. Destroy the golem, and do it quickly!"

"Remember, you are never unarmed." he repeated, "Your body is a tool, your intellect must guide it."

In addition to this demand, Hotaka stepped up the animated stone's speed. The collection of agglomerated surroundings, however, didn't seem to take this well, though it of course obeyed without question.

Quite a few of the points where the thing's structure had been composed of large collections of rotten roots seemed to strain already...

[ QUOTE ]
There was no fear in her face when she looked at Hatoka, perched so gracefully on his blue droid.

"Well," she smiled, "You're better in the Arena than I am."

It was not a statement meant to be flattering, but rather a simple observation of a fact. Her blaster was pointed in his direction, but more out of a sense of obligation than any real hope of hitting him.

"Personally, I would be just as happy having a civil conversation while these two make a show for the folks upstairs," she nodded at the yellow and blue drones.

"Of course," her face was thoughtful, "that might be a short fight."

With her shoe, she kicked a loose pebble into the new hole her foot had just punched through the ground.

"A real short fight."

It was several seconds before a tiny THUNK was heard, with an audible splash. "

About eighty feet," she mused to herself thoughtfully. "Something wet... don't think it's water though... at least not good water."

She rolled a bit of the old, rotten root in her hand, watching how it crumbled.

"Poor thing," she mused.

[/ QUOTE ]
"Ah, but talk will get you nowhere." Hotaka smiled, sliding off the drone and onto the ground, seeming to find secure footing by mere instinct as he stepped towards her, "And you have somewhere to go, a path to walk."

Without warning, Hotaka rushed forward, and a sudden barrage of blaster fire cratered the ground around their position, tearing at earth and wood indiscriminately. Dust and thunder filled the air as he snatched Penny by the wrist, pulling her along like the lightest leaf into another part of the crevice.

"Your friend is a rather rude little fellow." he chuckled as he stopped again, "But don't be mad at him. He seeks only to protect you."

The drones that had been with both of them had been consumed by the crumbling ground and tumbled into whatever lay below. Whether they'd come back up or not really wasn't an issue at this point, as their present programming would allow them only one action.

To prevent the other from returning to the person they'd been assigned to aid.

"Your path starts here." Hotaka continued as if nothing had happened, snapping a root from the dead plant of the crevice, "But it ends elsewhere. You must be careful, and not let this place corrupt you. Otherwise..."

He crumbled the rotten wood between the fingers of his hand. As the woody dust fell upon the ground, he added, "...this will be your fate."

"I estimate we have roughly six minutes until the dust clears." Hotaka stepped to Penny once more, "Let's make use of the time. To stay true to your path here, you will have to defend yourself."

He snatched the blaster out of her hand with a dismissive gesture, commenting, "Toys. Entertaining, but they cannot help you. Only a weapon can do that. Lesson number one: you are never unarmed."

He took three steps back, then rammed his foot into the ground, almost in the same manner he'd done above, yet different in a few subtle nuances.

Instead of descending into a fissure, the earth rose upward, and a humanoid figure of dirt and rock rose from the ground - an animated stone.

It looked crude, some of the rotten roots having intermixed with the earth, giving it a ragtag appearance, the weak wood only barely holding it together in a good number of places.

"Your mind is the only weapon you will ever need." Hotaka went on, taking a combatant stance. The animated stone did exactly the same, mirroring his movements. It was clearly bound to his will somehow.

Was this all he was using? No magic, no technology, merely his will? Or were there things that the broad spectrum of humanity didn't know about the earth entirely?

"Lesson two: using your weapon requires only concentration." Hotaka hinted ominously, "But concentration requires discipline. The earth is a powerful ally, but no match for a disciplined foe. Be that foe now, and strike down this stone."

The assembly of dirt and rotten roots threw its first punch...

((Pardonne moi, mes amis. ))

The Archon's blast trio didn't seem to deter Hotaka. Two went wide completely (he was moving quite rapidly), but the third struck his side true, leaving a small hole in his robes.

Due to their crimson hue, it was difficult to make out if this had injured him or not, but judging from the conclusion of his leap, it seemed highly unlikely.

Ryuu didn't seem to have a second thought about having his course head right down into the fissure, even choosing one of the wooden spikes as his landing point. The black cloth wrapping his feet allowed him to easily grasp the thing with his soles, making for a very secure position. so long as he kept his balance.

Which he performed for all of half a second.

Hotaka had no known 'powers'. By all records and precedents, he was no metahuman; and this was quite true, though in a much more literal sense than people expected.

He made up for this with skill - skill in the senses, skill in the martial arts. And one of those senses exploded with an impulse that he should leap on. So he did.

Only a moment later, the spike he'd been standing on turned to toothpicks under a burst of three crimson bolts, shattering apart in a cloud of sawdust.

Hotaka's face bore a frown, but not because of the laser fire - the wood had been rotten, and had he stayed on the spike any longer, it would have fallen apart anyway. Being who he was, Hotaka deeply disagreed with letting a plant suffer such, but there didn't seem to be anything he could do about it now.

Or was there?

A smirk crossed his lips as he hopped onto three more spikes in series, making his way over to Penny.

She'd performed some impressive, if very uncoordinated, actions to save herself, and altogether different from what Hotaka had expected. Very curious indeed...

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

Form the burst of pebbles and dust peeled the form of another battle drone, a speck of blue pant on its frame.

A moment later, Hotaka landed on top of it, planting his feet firmly but lightly on the machine's shoulders. If the drone had any sensors that enabled stress and weight calculations, it would now realize that the martial artist weighed a great deal more than his frame let on. Indeed, it was far too much for his suspected body mass.

Lucky for the drone, it had chosen a patch of stable ground to come down on - which, all things considered, was a likely reason Hotaka was now perched on its shoulders.

"How very interesting." he commented to Penny, letting himself slide into a crouch, "I wouldn't have done that..."