Ex Machina

((Story work and character development for my PPD character, SWAT Sergeant Jen Kerringer. Hope you enjoy it too. Please comment or PM with feedback.))


Fire, burning, the scorching, screaming pain as it tore up her body, the dull thwump as the nearby oil drums caught, the resulting explosion sending bent metal and shrapnel everywhere. She felt searing pain in her right arm, before it suddenly stopped, left with a dull, throbbing and wholly unpleasant sensation in its place. She felt like vomiting, but there was no air left in her lungs, no air, no breath...

The physical pain ceased, replaced by a sucking blackness. And then it returned, only this time it was her brain, a scream without sound that made her flesh crawl and her bones try and escape from her own body...except it wasn’t her body; metal caged her, limbs cold, imprisoned, the blackness-

Jen Kerringer awoke with a yell, pistol in her hand and aimed even before she bolted upright. She stopped dead, listening to the hammering sound which, she realised, was her own heart, pounding fit to burst. Her night-wear clung to her, whole body soaked in cold sweat.
She flopped back with a vicious curse, resting her right arm over her face, pistol still clenched. It had taken all her willpower to not pull the trigger by reflex. Eventually, after her heart had stopped trying to erupt from her ribcage, she put the pistol back in its special gap at the head of the bed, before sitting up and hugging her knees to her.
Usually she would have opened the window and had a cigarette to calm her nerves. The problem was, that was the exact same thing she had done two weeks ago. The only difference was the nightmare had been more powerful this time, more vivid. She had no idea why it had chosen to crop up two weeks ago, but the reoccurrence was disturbing, to say the least. She flexed her arm, trying to shake off the déjà vu, and the unsettling sensation that, while her fingers were moving, they were no longer actually there.

Sergeant Jennifer Kerringer didn’t scare easily. She had fought all the scum of Paragon’s criminal underworld, fought an old friend of hers that had become a Supa Troll, and even gone toe-to-toe with a Rikti Chief Soldier and come out alive.
But now, she was scared. Very scared. She was scared she was going to die. And, given the increased potency of the nightmare, she was scared that it would be soon...

Quote:

Originally Posted by Zwillinger GG, I would tell you that "I am killing you with my mind", but I couldn't find an emoticon to properly express my sentiment.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Captain_Photon NOTE: The Incarnate System is basically farming for IOs on a larger scale, and with more obtrusive lore.

“Ok boys, we hit ‘em fast, hit ‘em hard. Oorah?”
“Oorah!”

The SWAT van was well disguised in the back alley in Skyway. The squad had been waiting all day, preparing for the meeting that information had placed at this site. A group of Hellion gang bosses had recently been upping activity in Skyway, and word was they were trying to push their criminal activities further afield. The PPD, obviously, was having none of it.
“Standard drill. Keep it quiet, only fire if fired upon until my mark, and don’t leave a man behind,” Jen muttered into the radio, as the squad edged up to the door. She nodded to Moore, her second and squad Grenadier, who cut the lock, edging the door open carefully.

The squad stuck to the shadows as best they could, heading down the halls of the abandoned warehouse. The so called ‘Land of the Lost’ was a dangerous place, even for a Hellion. But it did mean they could use buildings like these as safe houses. Usually.
Jen raised a fist, stopping the squad at the corner. Using the small mirror from her tactical kit, she glanced around the corner.
Hellions. A gang of five, one of them wearing the mask of a Fallen. No ways around. Jen turned back, motioning to the other officers. Weapons free; shoot to disarm.

The squad came around the corner perfectly, Moore landing a stun grenade squarely in the middle of the lounging thugs. Only the Fallen and one other, who had had his back turned, didn’t fall, clutching their eyes. The Blood Brother didn’t even bother reaching for his pistol, instead scooping up the fire axe that lay on the crate beside him and charging at the SWAT squad with a frenzied yell. The Fallen hung back, bringing his gun, some mark or another of Uzi, and opened fire. The Squad dropped into cover, Moore side-stepping and clubbing the charging Hellion in the stomach with his bulky grenade launcher, Jen managing to shoot the weapon clean out of the Fallen’s hands, before Ketchard tasered him, bringing him down.
“Move up, keep it tight.” Jen was relieve it had gone well so far. But they weren’t home dry yet, and, given the lucky shot just now, she wasn’t holding out for any more special get-aways.

They ran into another gang further in, this one alerted by the previous gun-shots. Both Ketchard and O’Neil went down, although fortunately not fatally, and they managed to help each other back down the hallway, headed for the exit.
Jen motioned to the eight men left; weapons free; shoot to kill unless vital target.

The way to the main warehouse holding room was blocked by a door, one which yielded to Conley blowing the hinges off with his shotgun. They fanned out, guns sweeping the upper walkways and the piles of crates.
All of a sudden the lights went out, a distant, dying whirr making it clear someone had just blown the generator.
“Shite...Infra-red,” Jen growled, flicking her visor down. “Ops team, be advised, lights are down in the building. Watch for anyone trying to leave via other access points, over.”
“Ah, but Sergeant...where’s the fun in that?”

Jen spun, gun already trained. There was a crackling growl, as fire caught on the upper balcony, spreading all along one side before spilling onto the stairs. A figure strode out from behind the wall, silhouetted by the flames. It was quite clear, from the horned mask and the hellfire in his eyes, that this was one of the Damned they had been after.
“Sergeant Kerringer, PPD SWAT! Drop any weapons you may have, and get down on the ground with your hands in the air!” Jen shouted, sticking to the book, despite an overwhelming urge to nail the demon summoning vermin right between the eyes. The city was better off without him and his kind.
“Oh, we know who you are, sergeant,” a voice, the exact same as that of the first Damned, came from behind her. She spun, Moore covering the first target; a second Damned was sat on a crane arm which, even as they watched, burst into flame, throwing his form into sharp relief.
“Who are you?” Jen snapped, training her M4 on him, the dot-sight centred squarely over his heart. If the thing even had a heart anymore, she added mentally.
“Who, me?”
“Or me?”
“Or maybe...me?” the fifth figure asked, as it stepped into view, on the balcony that overlooked the warehouse floor. Some of the squad jumped as the rest of the area burst into flames, in time with each figure speaking. That wasn’t what had Jen spooked, though; what creeped her out was that all five voices were identical.
“Identify yourself!” she yelled, glaring at the final figure as the squad formed a circle, back to back.
The man...no, Jen realised, the mask itself, grinned back at her.
“Why, my dear...You can call me Le Jean.”

Quote:

Originally Posted by Zwillinger GG, I would tell you that "I am killing you with my mind", but I couldn't find an emoticon to properly express my sentiment.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Captain_Photon NOTE: The Incarnate System is basically farming for IOs on a larger scale, and with more obtrusive lore.

“Le Jean? As in ‘Legion’? Huh, very operatic,” Jen growled, her M4 still steadily aimed at the figure in front of her. As she examined him, she noticed little details, little give aways; the less patchy clothes, the more horned and ornate mask; this one was the leader. “So, what...you give your ‘voice’ to your followers? As freaky as I’d expect from a Hellion.”
“Ah, dear Sergeant, you are mistaken,” Le Jean went on, with a quiet and yet piercing little chuckle. “I am not I; I am we.”
“I am we.”
“As am I.”
“And I.”
“And we,” sniggered the last figure, all in the same voice.
“We are legion; We are one!” they chorused in perfect, unnatural harmony, an undertone of metal and brimstone creeping into the voices, the air itself tasting like copper.
“Sarge? Give the order and we bring ‘em down,” Moore growled quietly, his grenade launcher aimed at the figure in front of them.
“Ah, but Sergeant...it’s far too late for that,” Le Jean, or at least the main speaker of the five chuckled. “The PPD has been trying to keep an eye on us for far too long. Time to send a message...and that message is BURN IN HELL!”

The fireball erupted where Jen had been stood barely a second ago, the rest of the squad diving for cover at her shout.
“Weapons free!” she shouted, flicking the M4 onto burst setting, “Shoot to kill if you have to!”
“Let the killing begin!” Le Jean cackled, ducking into the shadows again. Already the building was filling with smoke, causing the SWAT team to reach for their gas masks. Flares and fireballs hurtled out of the smog with unerring accuracy.
“Gibson!” Jen shouted, as one of the officers was immolated at close range, body charring in an instant as one of the Damned stepped forward and punched an arm clean through his ribcage. She didn’t waste time with shouting and full auto; a single burst, aimed for the head.

The Hellion’s mask shattered, his head snapping back trailing a crescent of blood. Jen wasn’t sure if it was just her, or maybe the lights, but she would have sworn the blood was black.
Le Jean screamed, a high pitched snarling screech that made most of the squad cover their ears. Gritting her teeth, Jen spun to try and locate the source.
Another volley of fireballs, and this time the squad was caught in the middle. Gerard, Richards and White burned, screaming as the unearthly flame took hold. Even Moore in his heavier armour was forced to back off from the extreme heat.
“Not long now, little police girl,” Le Jean crooned, voice coming from four places at once. “We’ll make it quick, we promise. But painful, oh so painful...A bit like this.”
Jen shouted out, but she was too slow. One of the Damned that made up Le Jean stepped up behind Sanchristo, his scream dying his throat as the oxygen around him burned in an instant.
Jen would never shoot a fellow officer, not just to get at a target. But there were other ways.

The two grenades exploded behind Le Jean, Jen and Moore firing at nearly the same instant. The shrapnel hurled the Damned from his feet like a ragdoll with its strings cut, landing him in a twitching pile.
“Aurgh...enough. That’s twice, now,” Le Jean’s voice growled, although this time from just the balcony. Jen spun, in time to see the last three figures emerge and...
Merge. The three Damned stepped into each other with an unpleasant bend in the air, before they became one figure. Reaching up, he threw the mask aside.
Jen’s eyes widened. His face was...well, being honest, quite handsome. Slightly gaunt, but not in an unpleasant way. His eyes burned with hellfire, though, and curled rams horns reared up from his skull.
“Yes, police girl. I am named after Legion. No, I am not him. But I possess enough power to at least be a tribute to him,” he sneered, lips peeling back to reveal razor sharp incisors, like a dogs. Or, Jen thought, like a demon.
“And now, you die. It was fun, but I grow tired of you Police snooping around where you aren’t wanted. I have business to attend to, which will raise me above the petty squabbles over drugs that the rest of my ‘gang’ is involved with. It was interesting, Sergeant. Ta-ra.”

Jen was no idiot, however. It was clear Le Jean underestimated her, something she fully intended to use to her advantage. As he drew back his arm for another fireball, she brought her gun up and fired, the round smacking straight into his shoulder. The man staggered back, fire dropping at his feet and obscuring him from view.
“Moore, De Layne; do NOT let him get away!” Jen yelled, already running for the last set of stairs. The other two followed, guns ready.
They mounted the stairs in time to meet a fiery wave coming the other way. Jen and Moore managed to dive aside, but De Layne wasn’t so lucky; the blast caught him square on, reducing him to ash in a second.
“Now, Police girl, you’ve gone and made me mad!” Le Jean growled, stalking forward, arms wreathed in fire. He seemed oblivious to the wound in his shoulder, which was leaking blood into his t-shirt and waistcoat.
Moore rolled upright, firing a grenade at the Damned’s feet. Le Jean strode through it like it was a breeze, gesturing curtly at the Grenadier. A fireball caught him the chest, throwing him clean off the balcony and sending him hurtling back to the ground.
“Now. Last, but not least-”
Jen smashed him square in the face with her rifle, wielding it like a club. There was an audible crack, and Le Jean staggered back.
“Now, you’re under arrest you little-!”
Le Jean turned, the back of his left hand pressed against the gash on his cheek, his right punching Jen square in the stomach, the sheer force of it smashing her the same way as Moore.

The Sergeant hit the floor hard, but managed to roll upright, gasping for breath. Le Jean looked down at her, even as she brought her gun up and fired. With a flash of smoke and brimstone he was gone, to reappear right in front of her. He grabbed her gun, the barrel cracking and bending as it glowed orange and then white hot, before melting into a molten pool at his feet.
“You don’t dance with demons, Police girl,” Le Jean sneered, back-handing her across the face, sending her sprawling. “I guess I was wrong...you’re going to die slowly. And you’re going to beg for it to be quicker, I tell you now...”
He reached down, pulling off her helmet before taking her by the chin and pulling her face around.
“Such a shame...Your quite a stunner, really.”
He raised an eyebrow as Jen smirked.
“Yeah,” she panted. “Literally.” With that she brought up the taser, smashing it right into Le Jean’s forehead.

The Damned reeled back with a high pitched shriek that caused the remaining windows to implode. But Jen had already phased out, unholstering her pistol and bringing it up to aim in a two handed stance.
The first shot caught Le Jean in the other shoulder, punching him further back. The second smashed through his right knee with a sickening crunch, bringing him down. The third and final shot was clean in the chest, through a non-vital area, pushing him onto his back.
“Le Jean of the Hellions, you are under arrest for murder. Come quietly, or I’ll shoot you again. Your rights are non-existent right now, and I have ways of making sure you say absolutely nothing until safely in a Zigursky cell,” Jen snarled, holstering the pistol and pulling out a pair of handcuffs.
Le Jean jerked upright, still twitching from the electric shock, spitting blood.
“This...isn’t...over, Police girl,” he growled. “Your bosses will regret this...As for you..see you in Hell!”

The room exploded. Everything flammable was set alight in one moment, as Le Jeans eyes blazed like the inferno. Jen spun as the doorway collapsed, the whole building giving a warning creak.
“Give my regards to the pit, Police girl,” Le Jean cackled, an edge of hysteria in his voice as, with a crack, he vanished in a flash of smoke.
Jen turned this way and that, smoke making her eyes sting, already starting to gag from the lack of oxygen.
“Moore...Moore!” she shouted desperately. She heard a grunt, and saw him, curled up in a pile of broken pallets at the bottom of the stairs. Heart lifting for a moment, she ran forward...
Time slowed. The air seemed to clear for a moment, the scene taking on a frightening clarity. Fire. Burning. The smoke and ash. The horrible, searing sensation of the heat on her skin.

Jen nearly screamed. This was it. It was real. The dream, the nightmare. She was here...and it had found her.
There was a dull roar as the fire rose, now consuming every wall. There was a warning crack to her left and she turned, the air feeling like thick glue, binding, choking.
The stack of oil drums, only in one piece due to their thick build, finally gave up. The barrels exploded in a blossoming cloud of flame. Jen felt the searing pain of the flame sear her, the same as in the nightmare. Slowly, ever so slowly, she saw the large chunk of metal scything, end over end, through the air towards her. And she knew now she was going to die.
There was another dull whoomph as a barrel to her right exploded, the shockwave buffeting her through the heavy air. She watched, as time crawled, as the huge chunk of metal carried on its path, the severed razor edge passing clean through her shoulder like it wasn’t there. The pain in her arm ceased, replaced by the blossom of pure agony that arched through her body. As she fell to the floor it, somehow, felt like she could still move her fingers. She felt like vomiting, but there was no air left in her lungs, no air, no breath...Just like the nightmare.
And then the roof gave in. Massive girders and corrugated roof panels fell in a burning cascade, smoke and ash and sparks billowing...
Everything went black.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Zwillinger GG, I would tell you that "I am killing you with my mind", but I couldn't find an emoticon to properly express my sentiment.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Captain_Photon NOTE: The Incarnate System is basically farming for IOs on a larger scale, and with more obtrusive lore.

Blackness. Sucking, endless blackness. Like tar, dragging, choking...
The horrific sensation seemed to end, and it felt like she was falling, slowly, spiralling with no body. It wasn’t sleep, and it wasn’t...well, it didn’t feel like death...

It felt both like an eternity and mere seconds, before reality seemed to come back, grabbing her and hauling her in fiercely. She winced, as consciousness, or at least what she hoped was consciousness, dragged at her.
Metal. Cold metal, straps, cables, wierd sensations all over her body, inside her body-!

Jen attempted to sit up, but found that her arms and legs were restrained. Her eyes went into overdrive, flicking back and forth, scanning her surroundings. It looked like some sort of laboratory, with only a single spotlight left on, focused on her. The benches and mobile trays seemed to all have been pushed back, finished with. She tried peering closer at one...and her gaze zoomed in, numbers and a reticule fading into her vision.
With a yell she jerked back, blinking furiously until her view returned to normal.
“Hey! Hello? Hey!” she shouted, or tried to, but her throat felt like it had been scraped raw on the inside, and all that came out was ‘Heerr-h”, followed by a fit of coughing. Frustrated, she glanced around, trying to see what damage the fire had done...

Metal. Cold metal. Straps. Cables and wires and metal and oh god, OH GOD!
Her legs were gone from the knee down, replaced with cybernetics. Her left forearm was the same from the elbow down, but the entirety of her right arm was gone, her shoulder practically fused to an entirely mechanical arm.
The fire, the barrel, the scything metal, the dream, Le Jean, Moore, death, dying, ohgodohgodOHGOD!

The fear over-ran her. The walls themselves seemed to bend outwards as she screamed, but the lab itself fared worse; trays were hurled end over end, mobile stations were flunk into the walls like they were made of paper. The straps restraining Jen snapped like they were rubber bands, causing her to stumble upright, before collapsing to her knees, the scream fading.
”So...this...this was why I had the nightmares. It was real...I found out now, and...did it get sent back, or...Oh god...”
“Something like that.”

Jen jerked upright, eyes wide. A figure had stepped into the room silently, but it raised both hands openly as she looked set to run.
“It’s ok...it’s alright,” the voice soothed, as the figure stepped forward. It was female, dressed in a doctors coat and clothes, and the face was human, but the ears looked like those of a fox, and the woman was covered with brick red fur, her hair a more crimson shade. “No one’s going to hurt you here...”
Jen nodded, slowly, before her eyes widened even further, realising the figure wasn’t actually speaking.
“No...but I’m speaking in your mind. Telepathy. It’s how I heard you...that and the scream...”
“You’re in my head?!”
“Only to help. There’s a lot to understand...and I thought it might be best to simply show you, rather than try and give you a de-brief...”
“You...can do that?”
“Yes.”
“...Do it.”

The recovery team barrelled through the door, a figure on the stretcher they carried. Jen watched, realising she was looking through the eyes of the doctor.
“Holy hells...what happened to her?” she heard the woman’s voice again, this time obviously spoken.
“Massive fire. PPD Op gone bad. Medics say they can’t save her, but-”
The doctor ran an eye over the body...her body, Jen realised with a jolt. Her face was mostly intact, except for a bloody scar over her right eye, or what was left of it. Her entire right arm was clearly gone, a huge mess of bandages trying to staunch the bleeding. Her left side and legs were charred and scorched, her left forearm a near melted mess. She heard the Doctor swear.
“I don’t think even I can save her...not now.”
“No need, ma’am. One of the PPD brass was there, and the medics made it clear how close she was to fading...they’ve got Rick from City Hall coming over, though.”
“Rick Davies, from DATA?”
“Yeah. Apparently they’ve got one last trick they can try...”

Jen watched the next hour or so fly by, her broken and burned body taken to the room where it was now, Rick Davies and a small but professional group of techies arriving and setting up shop...her body being repaired and upgraded.
“New eyes, given the damage the old ones had taken,” the doctor narrated, as Jen watched. “We were able to save most of your torso, but not your lower legs or left forearm. Your lungs were nearly gone...it was a miracle your were still alive, after all that smoke and ash, and your previous smoking habit. We had to replace them with a special bit of kit that Rick’s been working on for some time now. That’s one of the first models to go live, as it were. It also means you’ll never have to worry about smoking, breathing underwater or choking again...If only tech like that wasn’t so rare...”
“You’re Doctor Vixen, aren’t you?” Jen interrupted mentally. “I saw you in Atlas and at Galaxy Girl statue a few time while on patrol...and in the news.”
“That’s right,” came the reply. “They specifically requested me on station in Skyway for this. Given the amount of tissue damage you had, I could see why.”
“Thank you...for saving my life.”
“Hey, we both do our jobs, right?” Vix said, and this time it was out loud, as the images faded from Jen’s mind. The PPD officer blinked, before lifting a hand and examining the mechanical fingers.
“I can still feel my right hand...and my left...” she murmured.
“Actually, you’ll be able to feel most things as normal,” Vix explained, holding out her own hand, palm first. Curious, Jen placed her own cybernetic hand against it, blinking as she felt the touch. “Those cybernetics are top of the line. Rick was basically given full green-light access by those two Captains of yours...”
“Two Captains?” Jen repeated, raising an eyebrow.
Vix nodded.
“The middle age one with the moustache and worried look, and the one who looked like he was from the Psi division.”

Jen smiled faintly. She knew who the first figure was; Uncle Robert, Captain Fischer to the rest of the PPD. The Psi Division captain, though...
Wait...
“Psi Division? Why do they need to talk to a...non..psy...”
Jen trailed off, the unstoppable charge of realisation finally catching up with her.
“What happened to me?!”

Doc Vixen grabbed her by the shoulders as she tried to rise, locking eyes with her.
“Listen to me, no! Listen!” she snapped, as Jen started to panic. “Look...the tech they put in your head is really advanced. Like, really advanced. So much so that...well, it was meant to just boost your brain power and ability to multi-task, that sorta thing. Instead, it boosted it into psychic levels.”
“So...that was why everything broke, why I had the nightmares...they were flash-forwards, not flashbacks...and could do the telepathy...” Jen whispered, meeting the doctors eyes.
Vix nodded.
“It’s going to be ok. The guys and girls at Psi div know what they are doing. I had a few courses with them myself, back in the day. You’ll be ok. Ok?”
Jen nodded, standing slowly, feeling the cybernetics whir and click into place.
“Now, come on,” Vix urged, taking her arm. “Your Uncle’s probably having a nervous breakdown over you...”
“Nothing new there, then,” Jen murmured, a faint smile creeping onto her lips. She was alive...battered, but alive. And, whatever else, that was something she was thankful for.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Zwillinger GG, I would tell you that "I am killing you with my mind", but I couldn't find an emoticon to properly express my sentiment.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Captain_Photon NOTE: The Incarnate System is basically farming for IOs on a larger scale, and with more obtrusive lore.