Archangel Protocols: Revival IC

<Back to the thrall as soon as possible!> Thundering back through the alley way he had fallen into, Mas caught a glimpse of the green one run by. Mas let out a deep growl as he was quickly bypassed and watched as the green one took a tumble. He watched as he was piled upon, and watched as he sliced up more of his targets.

It wasn't a long run, but Mas was already severely injured and was moving slower, and Azrael was much much quicker than he could ever hope to be.

Mas finally caught up to where the green one was being piled upon by dozens of meat shields and fired his blaster at the pile.

Once, twice, three times, four times... Most of the blasts were required to blow away the corpses that had piled up around the Azrael. The final blasts blew away the living targets.

Mas reached down and grabbed hold of the pathetic weak green one from the body armor on his back. Did Mas care that the soldiers continued to pile up around them? Did their mass even matter to him? No, they didn't matter at all. He pulled Azrael in close in front of him, and gave him the same glare he had before, a quick "MY KILLS!" look straight into the eyes, before the throw.

Masraik's arm ripped through the air, breaking ribs and necks of those soldiers in line of sight of his cannon of an arm. Right before max extension, Masraik released the green one, flinging him through the air some 200ft away into a 3rd floor window, one building away from the one he stood at now.

Masraik watched as Azrael flew through the air. He was appalled and amazed that he could be so easily removed from combat.

Sudden pain racked his entire body. Masraik collapsed in place and watched as his left arm shrank inside the armor. His rib cage crushed his heart and lungs, jabbing into his many vital organs that weren't able to function with the shrinking of his body. Slowly, his organs shrank with his bone structure, but not before the crippling pain had done its damage.

Red sprang up all around Masraik. The computer system had recognized the pain he had experienced as combat damage and not as part of his natural physiology. Mas pulled himself into a sitting position, looking at the false damage he had taken. He reached up and touched the plate around his head. <What the hell was I doing that there is metal wrapped around me...?> He picked at his thoughts, trying to find any memory of the events, but nothing. All he remembered was the immeasurable pain of the transformation out, and of Azrael flying through the air. <Wait, I remember... three small patches...> Masraik yelled at the top of his lungs, "You bloody failures of new scientists! Instead of doing something RIGHT with the formula, you only made it WEAK!" He glanced at the clock in the part of his mask that was intact. "AND IT DIDN'T EVEN LAST THE FULL 30 MINUTES! Just wait til I get my hands on your necks! And when did you switch my damn formula! I specifically said NO SCIENTISTS IN MY QUARTERS!"

Realizing that the sim was still going on around him, and that his team mates were probably listening to his rantings, he quickly shut his trap before saying anything else embarrassing. He looked up at the window where he had "flung" his team mate. <Oh ****... I'm never going to hear the end of this one...> Mas reached up to attempt to ply the metal plate from around his head with a deep grunt. <No dice... guess I'll have to wait for the sim to make it disappear.>

Azreal took an inhuman run into the clear but was blown far outside of his intended bounds. He couldn't deal with that right now though, and Abbaddon undoubtedly would attempt a rescue. He had to cover their rear before he could get them out of another situation. The Metal-head was on his way up when Longview dashed the next few steps over, crouching and zig-zagging through bulletfire. Being attentive of those aiming helps. The Metal-head went for a shoving kick; as clumsy as Metalheads tended to be, they were powerful as far as humans went. The extra weight made it a little more painful than otherwise, and Longview certainly didn't want to be on the end of it.

Quantas deftly moved to the side, avoiding the kick, and slapped away the raising .50 cal gun. He shoved upwards against the Metalhead, and knocked him stumbling away. Raising his own weapon, Longview popped a few rounds into the head of the thing. Still not a killshot, but it destroyed the optics on the left eye. A couple rounds more and the armor shattered in a bloody spray. That was easy enough. Especially when his comrades didn't want to shoot friendlies. The hail of bullets continued the moment someone got a clear shot. A few pelted the gel-like armor, but for the most part, he was unscathed.

He was just in time to see the hulking Masraik toss Azreal away like a ragdoll. In horrific detest Quantas screamed in frustration. Someone fired a good shot just then, taking advantage of the situation. The bullet caught him in the shoulder, making him audibly gasp in pain. A tear welled up on his right eye, the imaginary bullet lodging in his right shoulder joint, between bones and grinding with the slightest movement. Lucky shot, he thought. Azreal was no doubt destroyed by the throw. Something wasn't right with him at the moment. No doubt Abbaddon will follow him or attack the already red-out Masraik, he thought.ignoring his shoulder to focus on the real problem at hand.

Longview grabbed the assault rifle from his right hand on the move and ran, firing all around him as he sprinted. He could feel bullets pelting his back, tearing apart the light armor piece by piece. Just before he met the cover of Casper's building, he could feel it, a bullet got him in the back of the left leg just below the buttocks. Longview collapsed with a sliding thud on the asphault. He gritted his teeth a moment before his left side impacted. He didn't stay down long, but it was still a battle. "Either fight or kill-switch! It's over. We failed miserably as a team! All rescue attempts failed!" he yelled, upset and frustrated over the pitiful attempt at cover and assault. Azreal and Abbaddon should have let Masraik die on his own and just gotten the hell out of there. We weren't even ten minutes into the Sim... he begrudgingly looked back. Pulling his goggles up he was breathing hard. He'd taken some damage. Nothing incredible. But he would be assaulted any moment now by a dozen troopers.

Walking out from his cover he held his assault rifle up and fired, even through the ripping bullets his invaders, he massacred them with every precision shot. Even as he fired, bullets flew through his body. It was only a matter of a half-dozen seconds before he was encased in a red force shield himself, cursing at his bad luck of ending up in a group with "Masraik the Angel Killer."

"Matt, did you see how many of them there were?"

Matthias shook his head, leaning out to fire a couple more shots. "If you listen you don't hear an end to them. They're flooding in from the rooftops and I have no idea how to stop them."

"Live or androids?"

Nodding mainly to himself he spoke in between covering fire to keep the enemy mostly pinned. "There were a few androids before, if you noticed the holes in the floors, it's from them. I took the 3 out I saw but I don't know if there's more." Click...that clip's empty. Slapping another clip into his MP5, he poked his head out, firing more shots up and taking out about 5 more before getting forced to duck from fire. '2 of us, even with us being genetically superior their numbers are helping them alot...plus she took a shot and is one arm down. I'm ok for the most part, save for little things here and there.' He thought, doing some synopsis and thinking of what to do.

Almost on cue with his thoughts, another group of 3 androids popped themselves out onto the top of the staircase. The soldiers made a path and started to slow their firing down to make way for their 'powerhouse' group. Some of the soliders obviously had seen Matthias work against the other 3 as they shouted some profanities in his direction, telling basically everyone to focus on him while the soliders took care of Kindle. 'Great...this is just great.' He thought...but once more he was surprised at what they pulled out of their ass. A second group of 3 androids appeared at the top of the stairs when the first group was halfway down. 'Oh damn.' Ran through Matthias's head.

"KINDLE!" He yelled as he stood up firing at the troops around the androids, knowing the android's wouldn't be stopped or slowed as easily and it would be a waste of ammo at this point. "TIME TO GO BACK DOWN!" Another clip spent as he reloaded the quickest he ever did before, only allowing enough down time for 2 shots to hit him in the right side. Reaching over and grabbing Kindle's left shoulder, he pulled her with him as he started to backpeddle, continuing to fire.

ooc: My next post'll be the end one for me, allowing Kindle an interaction one first

OOC: Sorry for my lack of posting. This one should be pretty long, eh? ;P

IC:
Casper stopped target painting at Longview's request, though he doubted the enemy could see the ultraviolet laser he used. It was farily new technology and the corponations still mainly used infrared. Still, he no longer needed to mark targets, as the battle took a turn for the less organized. Casper began to focus his efforts on removing command units. He set his plasma rifle to anti -personnel rounds and began clipping the baret's off the heads of men waving thier arms and shouting into radios. The rounds from plamsa weapons had a tell-tale glow and left a rather easily trackable trace. As such, Casper couldn't stay still for long.

His tac-helm gave readings on the locations of the others. He could see Azreal and the others beginning thier retreat into the building Kindle and Matt were supposed to have cleared. Being on the roof of an adjacent structure, Casper had a pretty good route to the rally point. Finally beginning to take gain the attention of ground units, Casper dashed across the roof as a tank shell exploded against the concrete below where he was shooting. He made for the roof of the other building just as Matt pushed open the door. Covering his blind side, Casper approached the door from Matt's right. The sniper shot came as a suprise, and Casper ducked behind an AC unit. Following the shot back to its source, Casper sighted the sniper and placed a round in his temple.

He remained hidden as units begn pouring over the edges of the structure, firing blindly at Matt. There were a couple dozen, but all soft targets. Switching to explosive rounds, Casper pivoted from behind the AC unit and fired into the thick of them. The explosions, designed to weaken or destroy light armor, tore through thier ranks, giving Matt time to fall back. Unfortunately, the explosive plasme used much of the energy in the cell, and would not stay charged for long. Casper began to back up to the edge of the roof. Causing sufficient mayhem, he voluntarily stepped off the edge as unfriendly fire finally started coming his way.

Casper grabbed the sill of a third story window, and lifted himself inside. This floor was quiet, and Casper's programming told him it was time to blend and retreat. The sheer number of the enemy force made that difficult, but direct conflict was no longer an option. Casper started movign forward, beign as quiet as he could, which is to say, completely silent. He took about five steps before something came smashing through a window and slamming into the wall in front of him. Gazing out the window, he saw Masraik on an even bigger rampage, if that were possible. It was clear he had thrown Azreal who lay encased in a red "death" field a few feet from Casper. He leveled his plasme rifle at Masraik, still with the explosive rounds loaded and opened fire into the neck area of the giant liability. Red fields activated around Masraik as his shots violently exploded.

Grabbing Azreal, Casper dragged him to a small nearby room. As mission commander, he was valuable to the enemy, and had to be either extricated or eliminated. Explosions down the hall drew Casper's attention, and he loaded his incendiary rounds into his rifle, discarding the empty HE cell. Inspecting Azreal, he could see he was still concious, the force field having removed all the punishment and injury parameters it had been applying. Still, he had to be considered incapacitated. Casper was relatively sure the throw could not have killed a Pure One. Under that logic, he assumed Azreal was rendered unconcious.

Down the hall, the gunfire from Kindle and Matt was closer than before. Casper pushed the door closed, and quickly moved to Azreal's side, taking an andrenaline hypospray from a pouch on his belt. Jabbing the needle end into Azreal's leg, he pressed the release, and the liqid entered his bloodstream with a hiss. The force field shimmered and faded, the sim ignoring pain punishment for the duration of the adrenaline rush.

"You're not going out that easy, commander," Casper declared, setting his laser pistols in the Pure One's lap, "Get ready to make your final stand."

Turning to the door, the shots from Kindle and Matt had ended, and the horde of enemies was bearing down the hall, searching for them. "Cover left," Casper said as he knelt behing an overturned piece of furniture. The disyncronous footsepts slowed behind the closed door to the room. The knob clicked and began to turn. Just as it parted a couple inches, Casper opened fire, releasing a stream of bright red plasma bolts into the narrow doorway. The small, superheated beads of liqid energy burst into a firey maelstrom as the first units through the door - a couple primitive andriods - took the full force of the incendiary rounds. It wasn't long before a chaotic blaze was tearing down the hall; the narrow corridor preventing escape or return fire from rear troops. The sustained fire from Casper drained the Incen cell rapidly, and it was dry in only a few seconds. Ducking behind his cover, Casper loaded his half empty AP cell and raised back up.

Just as he lowered his rifle to begin firing, a metalhead at the far end of the hall let out a concussive blast. Casper's targeting systems tracked the grenade as it sailed lazily over the flames and through the threshold of the door. For a machine, realizing the inevitability of your demise did not take long. As a supercomputer, Casper processed this fact, and analyzed it before the grenade was even halfway down the hall. The results: Casper was not fast enough to avoid the blast. Another millisecond later, his programming activated his memory failsafes. His core and central data storage went into lockdown; accessible only by trained Archangles. Three feet from oblivion, Casper's HUD and central processor ceased, his systems shutting down completely.

The grenade exploded against the force field, sending the deactivated andriod slamming against the wall behind it. When the dust settled, the blank-faced C.A.S.P. lay staring at the ceiling, awaiting recovery or destruction.

Azrael was hacking still at corpses around him, barely able to move, barely able to breath under the press of bodies. His vision began to dim at the edge, he was blacking out, and as soon as he did that, it would be over.He felt more than heard the first concussive blast through the pile of bodies. Then another, and another. Then a giant hand came down and grasped Azrael, still on the verge of blacking out he couldn't resist much as he was lifted into the air and yelled at. The shock of the fling was enough to revive him momentarily. <THAT SON OF A BIT...> was the only thought that passed through his mind before it was wiped clean again, by the impact between it and a fairly solid wall.

Next thing he came too to the feel of a needle being withdrawn. He gasped at the sudden clarity. "Ahhh... the pain had receded some, his thoughts were clearer, but his right leg was broken, and it felt like several of his ribs were grinding in very inapropriate ways. His sword had been lost and his rifle's barrell was bent. He took the weapon offered to him by Casper, and drug himself painfully to the best cover available. It was still over fairly quickly. Lack of mobility verses overwhelming numbers did not turn out well. In short order he was incapacitated, and by the sounds of the battle outside, so were most if not all of his teamates.

"Computer, How many sentients are left alive?"

"Zero"

"Computer: Cease Simulation, reset all parameters, remove all wound punishments."

"Simulation ceased, all paramters reset, wound punishment set to zero for all particpants."

The sim room blanked out, turning once again into the plain, gray room that it was when not running sims.

"Computer: Survival time?"

"25minutes and 26 seconds."

"Computer: Best previous time?"

"15 minutes 45 seconds."

With a satisfied nod he stood. His sword lay not too far away, he picked it up. He walked to the middle of the now blank room, and called to his teamates. "Congratulations everyone. WE managed to break the record for survival on that run. That's the hardest sim ever programmed. I made it myself, and no one has ever survived as long as we have. "Computer how many repititions have been run of this sim."

"2459."

"We did very well. We could have done much better. We started out strong, but as the battle heated up our group dynamic fell apart. This was due to a number of factors. Most of us a re used to working alone. We are all used to taking initiative, which is fine, but can be a little overdone. I think we all saw problems in our styles of working together. I want all of you to go back to your quarters, or other rest areas as you see fit, and review the replay of the things that happened in here today, its saved under the sim logfile. You are all dismissed."

He turned to face Masraik, "Except you Mas. I think we need to have a little chat." His voice was ice itself. Calm and cold, but serious as the steel point on his sword.

ooc: more in a bit, and Shari, you should consider yourself reactivated by the computer when the sim resets.

<Oh here it comes.> Mas thought with a huff. <Team work, team work, team work... Its hard to do when everyone runs away from you in completely opposite directions from the start, and with much more speed and stealth than myself! They were like spokes on a tire, moving outward from the axle; the further they got, the faster they moved.>

Masraik knew it was coming before Azrael even looked at him. "Except you Mas. I think we need to have a little chat." Masraik patiently waited to see who would leave the room before he would confront Azrael.

He almost yelled. "Look, I know what you're thinking, and what you're going to say before you even say it. 'You endangered your team mates by your thoughtless charging directly into the enemy! And you even attacked us, twice! Berserking in such close quarters with allies is uncalled for, and you were an uncontrollable mad man out there!' Or something along those lines eh? I hear it every mission, about how I'm a bigger danger to our own soldiers than the enemy is."

Mas had a quick idea pop into his head. "But you know what, that's what you all get for doubting the new generation. And it was an excellent example of what you'll have to put up with in a real battle situation, so prepare yourself, because if this bunker we're going into is anything like it looks like it will be, then you'll see me large and in charge more than once."

He had gotten right into Azrael's face, but a memory shot across his thoughts. Azrael's twisted form flying through the air from his own personnel launch maneuver. He backed up a bit, sighed, and resigned himself for the brunt of the preaching he was about to receive. "Oh yea, and sorry about tossing you... like I said... total uncontrollable mad man."

OOC: Sorry Mas, but I'm pulling a GM here and using some of my powers for the sake of scene smoothness.

IC:
He would have waited till everyone was absent, and then he would have calmly explained the conclusion he had reached. It wouldn't have been a friendly discussion, but it wouldn't have been one containing animosity either. But apparently Masraik had other ideas on his mind. The memory of flying through the air flashed through his mind... well maybe not completely without animosity. Then Masraik began yelling at him. Azrael turned to ice. Not the ice of fear, but of the cold, hard rage that often roiled beneath the facade he put up. He always tried to act gentlemanly, to be cultured and knowledgeable, and gentle when he could. He found that when the majority of ones time is spent as a weapon, it becomes necessary to try and distance oneself from it when one can. His nature though, was not truly so convivial. So it was that he didn't know or care who was in the room when he finally acted.

His inner nature was closer to beast than man, when he let it be. When he released the restraints on it, as in battle, or when he was pushed to far. The now normal sized, if particularly wide man was leaning into Azrael's face. Azrael almost growled at him, feeling his instincts react naturally to the direct challenge to his supremacy. When Masraik finished his tirade, he backed up a little and, sounding somewhat abashed (ooc: guessing by the way it was written) he apologized for flinging Azrael through a building. That might have saved him from Azrael's wrath, had he not ruined it by excusing himself.

The icy cold but controlled rage burst forth in Azrael. In a flash, literally quicker than any man could have moved or reacted, Azrael had his sword out, and had shoved two of his fingers into Masraik's nose, pushing upwards, forcing his chin up and his neck taught. He pressed the blade firmly against Masraik's neck. He pushed hard on the nostrils and flared his fingers slightly stretching the relatively thin skin painfully, and forcing the head further back. In a cold hard near whisper Azrael spoke. "I am going to talk to you now, and you are going to listen to me. You are going to hear me with ears cleared by the edge of my sword, or you are going to wake up in a few weeks in a regen tank. Do we have an understanding?"

Without waiting for a reply he continued. "What you did today was foolish in the extreme but not because of why you think. You did exactly what you are best at, by charging into the enemy. In fact, except for that unlucky break with the tank, you could have been a great asset on the field today. The thing you did wrong, the thing that was stupid? You went berserk, in a thrice damned simulation. IT. WAS. A. SIM. You were not in real danger, nothing that happens in here to you when done by the computer is real. The things you did to yourself, and to us, were. Luckily the buffers held. If they hadn't you could have scrubbed this entire mission. Risking that for a sim? That was stupid."

"The thing is I know you knew that. I know that you had to have trained in other sims, had to know the dangers and limits of this machine, and of yourself. So here's what I think. I think that no matter how much you claim you hate it, I think you are addicted to your little transformation. I think deep down, the power, the thrill of it, get you. You want it. You may hate the tests, but do you really hate the experience? You think you are the only Angel to ever go Berserk? It may not be as dramatic, but I know what it's like, I go... feral. I killed an entire platoon the first time, as well as my whole team. Didn't remember a damn thing about it for nearly 2 centuries. Then it all came back to me when I finally realized WHY I couldn't remember. I didn't want to. I knew the things I did was wrong, my mind simply decided to protect me from the guilt by hiding them. At first I was scared by it, then I realized I had started putting myself into situations where I HAD to go feral. Something in me, whether I knew it or not, liked what I became, liked what I did. I didn't."

"You are a weapon, just like me, just like everyone else. The difference between you and me though? I know where to cut, and when. You just bash your way through, and think it proves how strong you are. I had to learn to control myself when I went feral, I had to learn when to use it, and how. It should be a last resort and nothing else. Until you can control when and how you use it, it will always control you, just like any other drug. You think I disrespect the new Generation. That I doubt them? I helped CREATE the new generation, I designed them. Your template must have been an idiot..."

Template... but he was a Pure one, he hadn't had a template... where... what....? Pain, and the thought fled, the inability to access his own train of thought only irritated Azrael more. Digging the blade slightly into Masraiks neck he said, "Now, this is what's going to happen, I think we'll need you, and I think you're going to be a very useful weapon once you grow up child angel, but just now I think you're a liability. I just think you might wind up being more useful than you are a liability. So here's how its going to work, I'm going to release you, you are going to calmly, acknowledge what I've told you, and then you are going to give me any and all of the berserker serum you have before we depart on this mission. You can't be trusted to not use the serum at the wrong time, so I'm going to hold onto it for you. When and IF I decide it is appropriate I will then give you the vial. If we get separated, I will make sure that whoever you are going with has one of the vials."

His eyes hard, he stared into Masraik's eyes with the power of over 2000 years of battle behind them, "Do you understand me?"

ooc: Mas, if you simply say yes and fail do not struggle, you can post that Azrael releases you, then you can go from there, if you struggle, or object, Azrael will hurt you in some way, mostly by causing pain, not by actually damaging you. Until you say yes and do not struggle at which point he releases you and you can go from there.

ooc: still busy =/ this is my short appearance, for appearances sake

ic:
Kindle regarded the ending sim as time to get the weapons she noticed would be useful. Survival time in the sim meant nothing to her, {Angels exist because there shouldn't be "hopeless" battles, I am a living embodiment of our retaliation against the 'hopeless' corps}, this sim was a failure, short and simple. Kindle needed a modification to her equipment spread, and body armor for her right arm {i will not have half my firepower removed by a fluke shot}.

Azrael's speech with Mas left her stunned, but she figured now was not the time to speak with the Commander, {...weapons, heh...}. While Az waited on a response from Masraik, she stated with a wink and smile to the assembled party members "I'm gonna go request some different equipment, anything in particular ya'll noticed we could've used?" She waited to hear any responses, nodded and stepped outside the door.

She hovered for a moment before walking off, hoping Mas would answer Az and walk with her.

Quantas' bubble opened and the sim ended. It was unnecessarily complicated a mission. They were screwed as soon as Mas threw himself too far into the mess. He would have been an excellent asset had he provided a primary cover and target. Quantas wasn't surprised that Azreal wished to keep him for a few words after. Though he wasn't a sniper, Azreal certainly had some knowledge about secrecy and stealth through his two millenia on the battlefield. He was not at all shy about giving out advice when it was due; it saved Quantas' ass on more than one occassion.

He could feel the anger between the two building up as Masraik spoke. It was a seething searing anger by the time Azreal was on him. Quantas knew that he was no man to intentionally cross, and even less wise to openly challenge his authority with stupid comments like staying "large and in charge". Even though he could feel it impressing itself on his own mood, Quantas could only help but grin in entertainment. It wasn't surprising; Azreal's response. If anything it was warranted. As GC he was king, emperor, and God, second only to superiors like Train.

Suddenly, the little firecracker, Kindle, tried to lighten the mood by asking about armaments. Perhaps the mood had been a little more impressed than he had thought. "I know of one thing we could have done without," he snarled. "Coulda used an anti-armor rifle. I expected something along the lines of individual fighting, but not a sim like that. Expected something a little more like the mission. Arm up based on what you expect, not for every situation you can think of; you'll be too heavy." He was noticeably irritated. Quantas wasn't sure, though, if she would be able to tell the difference, as young as she was.

"Freakin' child," he grumbled and briskly walked out of the sim past Masraik. "too bad they can't find a cure for the common ego," he said out loud but to himself as he passed through the doorway. He tossed his armaments into a bin for some Sim attendant to sift through and restock, and stripped off as much of the armor and additional apparel as he added and walked back to his quarters. Quantas showered and lounged nude on his bed while he went through the sim. It was a simple matter of highlights that told him the strengths and weaknesses of his allies. He could tell both Azreal and Abbaddon were a little older this time around. They weren't done and buried. Far from it. The candle, though, was dimming.

Kindle could hold her own rather well, but up close and personal she left much to be desired. Let alone not adding additional armor. He would recommend that. It doesn't need to be nano-enhanced to be useful. Watching himself he was appalled. He wasn't a good sniper in this mission, and he wasn't an assault or recovery GELF. He was hardly given the chance with the downward turn this sim went. He had to admit the power of Masraik, but power without responsibility is just wild, blind, and useless. Casper was a very versatile teammate. Probably the best performing in the sim. He was limited in damage capacity, but very quick and nimble. Far more useful in a shoot and run situation than spotting. Longview had his own spotting utilities. If he was to work with anyone there again, it would be Casper. His emotional emulations weren't bothersome and he was smart for an AI.

Abbaddon and Matt. What a pair. It was obvious, for both their love of edged weapons, that they would default to that even when a ranged weapon was more useful. No one in that sim is playing the role they were supposed to. Perhaps, though, that was the purpose. The sim they were just in was designed to totally dislocated the participant from what they were used to that they had to adapt.

Indeed, Casper was the only one who found a way to stay in their role. The cold calculations of a machine. Sure, it scored excellent in the SIM. I would love to see him help someone in distress rather than just the commanding officer, Quantas thought. Overall, though, they did do extremely well. The body count for all involved was rather large. Accuracy was not what he would have liked, but it wasn't bad, considering the weapon he had chosen. Masraik had the highest kill score, but also had destroyed the mission.

Had they had more time as a team, they might have the benefit of being the most well-rounded and useful team in the existence of the Protocols. Not only that, but they might actually make it through the unbeatable 'Kobiashimaru' sim that Azreal had designed so many years ago. Longview rubbed his chin and closed the sim. He was in a snack mood, and wanted to see if they still had any of those portable rail rifles left in stock. There was still some time left.

He clothed himself in a tactical skin-suit and opened up the remote console again. Taking another look at the mission terrain he picked out a few nests he would love to get, but probably already were taken. That being said, he would make sure they still had his favorite long range weapon on hand, but take a little less expensive high-speed semi-auto precision rifle. Already planning it out, he estimated only one cartridge. In addition he would take a couple of satchel charges for secured doors needing to be 'unlocked'.

Quantas already decided he'd take a more armored approach with the rigid-body low-powerarmor with gel impact-activated joints that made up his armor in the sim. That should still give him the flexibility to get places that the others might not be able to acrobatically pull off. Additional armaments were the assault rifle from the sim, this time with an HE grenade attachment and HPAP round carrying pistols as sidearms. Better to be overkill than not. If he could fit it, he would also add on an automatic high-capacity pistol. Typical two combat-knife configuration. His goggles he would keep for IR and UV capabilities.

Nodding as he went through a checklist, he felt sure and ready about the mission. Though it was important, it was just another mission. Checking armory levels remotely, he was assured that they indeed had a couple of those portable railguns on hand. Calculating the weight of everything, it turned out to be a good seventy-plus pounds, including ammo and armaments. Grabbing a pair of black cargos an empty bandoleer and an empty utility belt, knowing he'd probably grab a couple other goodies on the way, he slung them over his shoulder and made his way to the cafeteria.

Quickly downing a few high-calorie snacks and grabbing a couple powerbars for later, Quantas walked calmly toward the armory. Loading the queued armory requisition, he went through and picked everything from the walls and laid it all out. Going over it one more time, he was satisfied and methodically started loading it onto himself. Closing his eyes in the armory, he sat fully armed and armored. Per his abilities, he relaxed his muscles and let the armor alone keep him erect. Calming his body and mind, he prepared himself for another battle. Another 99% unknown. He knew he wouldn't have much time to spend alone, the rest would come soon.

ooc: sorry its not long, just something to help ya'll get going. I may have time to add onto it tonight.

IC: He was neither really surprised at Azrael's reaction, nor impressed. It was not the actions of a leader. Masraik reached up, and grabbed hold of the blade with his bare hand. He didn't care how much it cut him. Mas waited for Azrael to remove the blade from his throat, and fingers from his nose, so that he could speak.

"Good luck finding it all. The protocols tend to hide the **** around too..." Masraik said in regards to the formula. He reached within his armor, popped out the vial from his rib gills, and produced it in front of Azrael's face. He crushed it and dropped the glass on the floor." There, there's one. I'm sure the computer can produce the rest for you.

ooc: That's cool, I want you to know ahead of time, I'm not actually putting you off the mission, but this is how my char would play it out, if you decide you just don't have time to play for a bit though, you may just want to take a small break, if you get time time before we are done with the mission, we may be able to work something out to have you join up with us... We'll figure it out.

IC:
Azrael felt his rage flare, he knew he was on the verge of going feral. He growled, low and menacing in his throat, he heard the bestial whispers in his mind, the ones that were not human words, but yet he understood. <Kill him. Dangerous. Challenges you. Thinks he's better than you. Beat him. Kill him. Eat his flesh.> He muted the voices. Ignoring them, knowing them for what they were now. Instincts mixed in with his bestial attributes. His blade had not moved, however from Masraik's throat. The keen edge would cut off his fingers long before he could apply enough pressure to move the blade, braced as it was by Azrael's strength.

His words and actions proved one thing to Azrael. He would have to deal with this one eventually. He was like a child, striving to prove himself and unwilling to accept that others may know of what they speak. In the age terms of angels he was a child. Perhaps a teenager. Azrael knew he may have acted in the heat of the moment, but what he had done was hardly unheard of amongst the angels. They were beings bred for combat, so oftentimes arguments were settled with physical confrontations, though they rarely ended with serious injury or death.

However he couldn't risk taking a child on this mission, especially not one as powerful as this one was. Leaving the blade against his throat for a moment longer, staring with the full weight of his countless years into the eyes of his momentary opponent. He pulled the blade back at last and shook his head, eyes still cold. Calmly he said "As of this moment you are scrubbed from the mission Masraik. I can't afford to risk someone who can't even follow orders at the point of a sword, especially not someone with your tendencies. Your addiction." He checked the time on a terminal across the room, his acute vision picking out the tiny numbers that would have been impossible for a normal human to discern ath this distance. "Computer acknowledge order: Team member Masraik is relegated to mission status standby."

"Order Acknowledged. Masraik has been moved to the backup duty Roster." He looked one last time at Masraik and turned to leave. "You have 4 hours. If you want I'll see you in my quaters in 3 and a half. You know what I want, and you know what you need to do to get back on the mission." And he left. Standby meant that he was not allowed to go on the mission, but that, should an emergency arise, or the commanding officer change his status, he would be shipped out with the others. Had Azrael put him to any other status besides Active, or standby he would have been barred from this mission no matter what. He had another chance. Time to see if he would take it or not. Azrael went off, he reviewed the holo tapes... despite what the others might have thought they had done fairly well overall. The computer had been forced to kick the difficulty up several notches right from the getgo to deal with them. The lucky shot that had nabbed Azrael, slowing him down Azrael initially had come from a high level sniper unit. It had been bad luck that it hit where it had, but more missions had been scrubbed by bad luck than by anything else.

He spent some time in the shower, letting hot water remove the sweat he had produced in the sim, and allowing his full skin to catch sunlight, producing energy he'd need later. Finally he went to the cafeteria and ate another gigantic meal. He then returned to his quaters in order to meditate for several moments, and wait for Masraik, if Masraik would come. He folded his legs into lotus position and closed his eyes. Clearing his mind and focusing, letting the meditation take him where it would, waiting, for Masraik.

ooc: Reservin this slot for a post in a little bit, I'll edit and put it up in a few hours at most, got some things to take care of first

As of this moment, you are scrubbed from the mission Masraik.

It was one thing to not lead the platoon into battle, but be taken off a mission by the standing officer was unheard of. Masraik didn't hear anything else after that sentence; he was stunned. First it was stunned, then it was angered. He smashed the panel in the wall that opened his personal armory.

Leaving his things exposed and his shield on the ground Masraik stormed off, still fully armored, to his quarters. <If he wants the damn formula, he can have it. But I will not keep myself from my protocol given rights!> When Mas got to his quarters, he went into his shower, the only place he was allowed no camera. He smashed his combination into the tiles along the back wall and a compartment opened up from the drain. Masraik pulled out all of his serum and threw it into a pillow case. Except one.

<He can't keep me from anything!> Furiously trying to calm himself down, Mas inserted the new vial back where he had removed his old one under his armor, where it wouldn't be seen without an x-ray of some sort.

Heated, and beyond angry, Masraik remembered that Kindle had wanted him to follow her. Hadn't she? She looked back a couple times after leaving the Sim. He couldn't think straight... where was he going? His head was pounding!

Masraik found himself riding lifts and walking down hallways, entering labs and exiting again. Pain started trickling throughout his body, or was it memory of the Sim he had just encountered? His mind was clouding in and out, and he couldn't determine why. This had never happened from a Sim before!

Azrael. He had found Azrael's quarters and opened the door unannounced. There sat the beast that had lit his anger so easily. Upon realizing who he was looking at, sitting 'peacefully' on the floor in front of him, the pain within him erupted! Masraik fell to his knees, dropping the pillow case of serum vials, and watched as his hands grew too large in front of his eyes. <This isn't right! I didn't take a serum again!?>

All he could do was hold back the change long enough to give a warning. "AZRAEL... SERUM... NOT... WEAK... NEW SERUM... TIME EXTENDED... MUST ONLY ACTIVATE WHEN... THREATENED..." Pain ripped through his body, and he blacked out.

ooc: Feel free to power play me a bit here, I have time to play along though, just once a day instead of 3-4 posts a day like I was doing.

ooc: Ah hell, you are really gonna be one of THOSE players aren't you Mas? Oh well... no one to blame but myself. Now I have to deal with you AND Ren. *martyrd expression Why me?

To be fair while I will try and avoid it, if you keep backing me into corners, I will have to godmode it and take you down hard... Some of us can't regen broken ribs in moments.

IC:
Azrael had been meditating, letting his mind wander through the broken corridors of his mind. His shattered memories were like flashes of a reality he knew, but was not a part of. Things that made no sense, were they delusions or were they real? Snatches of conversations, smells, visions, memories of himself, only his skin was white, and his senses dull. Fragments of battle, rage, and violence, intermingled with gentle summer nights with her and poetry.

He heard Masraik coming, the stomping was unmistakeable. Inwardly he sighed, approaching in that manner likely meant that Masraik had failed to calm down and realize the truth of the things Azrael had said. He would have to remain on base. Retaining the inner peace and balance he had found as long as he could, he waited until Masraik entered, giving him every chance to show that he was not a sulking, angry child. His eyes opened calmly when the bag of serum hit in front of him.

He saw the rippling flesh. In an instant he was on his feet. This was bad, He was unarmed and unarmored. All he had was his sword, and that not one him. Without warnign a memory surged to the surface, he called out to the pervasive security system wired through the base "Computer, Renegade Code 666 full force Authorized."

The acknowledging beep was little comfort as the still armored brute swelled and screamed.Even as he spoke he had moved for his sword on his bunk. It would be of little use unless he could get to Masraik before he came into himself. He charged, vaulting off of his bed, sword before him, aiming for the unprotected throat. An armored fist hit him like a bolt of lightning. He flew of course, slamming into the far wall. His head rang but his thoughts remained clear "Masraik, you have to fight this. Control yourslef. you don't remember because you don't want to but you're in there. This is your body, command it! Don't you hide behind you shield of cowardice any longer. You are still repsonsible for your actions, berserker or no!"

He hoped he was right, hoped it wasn't some neurochemical deffect caused by the serum. He faced off with Masraik, hopeing against hope that the security detail would arrive before he was damaged beyond usefullness, or before he was forced to kill Masraik. At least if he could figure out how.

The mostly peaceful session of mind clearing was distracted by the lighting switching immediately to a flashing red, followed by a non-deafening alarm. "Code Renegade 666 activated. Full Force authorization. Sector APO-2. Initiated - Pure One, Azreal." the voice related. They switched the automated voice to a live person, Quantas thought. His eyes darted open and he dropped the automatic weapons where he sat. Calmly walking to the sniper rack, he grabbed the portable railgun, and a charge pack. Looking at the rounds available, he smiled and grabbed two compound rounds and a cartridge of AP rounds. Popping two AP rounds from the cartridge while he walked through the armory, Quantas replaced them with the two Compound rounds and slapped the cartridge into the railgun. Walking past a rack with the ridgid armor, he grabbed the helmet for it and slid it on. The next rack composed of grenade and mine dispensers, Quantas grabbed a flashbang from the end of the row as he walked by. A few more paces and he had left the armory. A chime allowed the exit from the armory, admitting use of the weapons in the rest of the base in lieu of the alarm.

It was an all-call boadcast to anyone in a position to take down the target. In this case, he had a feeling it was their unstable ally. The last time I had these rounds, Deus was loose, he reminisced, "How ironic. I knew I didn't like him."

OOC: Do as you want with it. If it ends in the next post, I'll have him arrive fashionably late to watch it stop. :)

The compound rounds are AP rounds with an explosive core akin to epoxy. It's a two-part liquid. When the round pierces the target at high-velocity, it 'crunches' for lack of a better word, and blows up. The time it takes for it to mix and blow up is minute, but at velocity, it generally has entered the target by that time.

Kindle watch Mas walk by. ~sigh~ She frowned at the floor, then took the time to type in her requisition order for body armor and the different weapons. It would about a half hour or more for them to fit the armor to her body, as they normally wouldn't have "midget" in stock.

[I]{He probably just feels ****ty, hmm, probably the whole team isn't at their best}[i]

Then, she smiled, her eyes lit up, she felt so stupid for not thinking of this earlier, and she ran...at nearly full speed. Kindle knew her energy would be replenished in time for the mission, and she only had a limited amount of time before Az would probably ask everyone to get back together. {I know he's gotta be out there}

Touching a fixture behind her hear, she connected herself wirelessly to the computer. "Kindle C-Y-2-7-2, Requesting clearance to Section J, Outer wall, 15 minutes. Requesting guest admittance Alexander Thomas McComilley" It took about 5 seconds till she head "Access Granted. Pass Granted, full restrictions".

Kindle was happy. The scientists the angels knew weren't the only scientists around. This would cost her a lot, but anything was worth a shot. Dr. M. was a sensory specialist. AND, he was the best "soul food" chef in the district. Dr. M. cooked food that satisfied all 6 of a beings senses. He had even worked in partnership to make a special meal for androids that were being integrated via emotion chips.

The run was not long for someone with her speed. When she arrived, Dr. M's assistant met her at the gate, startled and speechless. Kindle smiled "I need to see Dr. M, please" she held out an identification badge, to let the woman see her ID and rank. Then she said "He knows me, I'm a regular, if you will".

The entire way in, the assistant kept giving her weird looks, but Kindle was used to that. Cyborgs aren't normal anymore. Her train of thought was cut off right there when the familiar face showed up on a balcony above "Kindle, my girl! I figured that was you who requested a pass for me on base, only you would pre-presume I would accept!"

"Dr. M. I've got a large order today, add it to my tab or come up with some work for me to do when I get back. No details. Though I'd you to go to base and get clearance for a 'Preference File' for my team members, and set it up before we leave. I'm thinking small and light, no one will be into heavy eating at that point, atleast I don't think"

Dr. M looked right at Kindle {!! He thinks I'm crazy !!} "Please, I've never been with a better group than this one, but I've also never been with a group that was so scattered, if we can't appreciate the best food in the world together, are we really gonna be able to accomplish anything? really?" {Kindle thought back to when the SIM was over, no discussion, no suggestions, just everyone sent off to review except one. She thought to the duels, the lack of communication on may peoples thoughts...its a freaking group of loners and a pair of loner lovers} "Make it individualized, and have it say 'Ashes to Ashes'". {Maybe it will remind them that we are together through this entire ARC ordeal}

Dr. M knew Kindle didn't take 'no' or even 'maybe' for an answer. He nodded, "let me get my things"...

They arrived back at the base almost exactly at the 15 minute mark. Kindle gave Dr. M. a hug, and went to check on her weapons and teammates, trying to decide if she'd be able to feign surprise when she sees the food in a couple-ish hours.

Alarms sounded all around Masraik. It was hard for him to understand what the threat was. Azrael had jumped at him ready to take off his head, but that didn't matter. He had swatted the annoyance away. <I know his strength. He's not my threat. There is nothing here? Where is the ...>

Masraik stopped as another ripple of pain shot through him. The serum never hurt when he was berserked. One thought passed through Mas's mind when the fiery pain ended. <Protocol.>

Leaving the rigid Azrael where he sat, Mas turned his back and went for the door. Except, the door wasn't large enough for him anymore was it? Masraik charged the door, full shoulder slam into the frame and the concrete around it. He hadn't held back on his momentum, and slammed into the wall on the other side of the hallway. He slumped down and regathered his bearings. "KEEEEP ERRRR" he growled from deep in his chest.

Dragging concrete and steel behind him, he clawed his way to the nearest lift. The pain hit again and again in spurts at random locations all over his body. Leaving dents and scrapes along the wall as he pulled himself along in torment, Mas fluctuated between stable and unstable, his body inconsistently deciding if he was truly threatened or not.

He was heading to the research facility, the keeper should be there. <Keeper torments. Keeper tortures. Keeper threatens stability. Threatening stability threatens missions.> Mas reached the lift and couldn't perform a voice command to get the lift to move, and smashing the console did nothing but hinder his progression towards removing his sole threat. He jumped off the side.

OOC: This will be mostly catch-up, and kinda vague at that...sorry for the crappy post in advance.

IC: Apollyon was cursing Abaddon the entire time that it took for them to reach their living quarters, the ones used when Abaddon was awake for longer than a day. Abaddon was pretty much ignoring her, though, thinking about the battle.

She had seen the moment that Azra had been hit, and the panic well inside her. Apollyon had tried to take control, but Abaddon wouldn't let her, not once Azra was in trouble. In a moment of inattention, she suddenly felt the sim go dead around her. And that was when Apollyon started cursing. <You ****fool!! How could you miss that Droid behind you!! He **** cut off your **** brainless head!! Why the **** didn't you just **** let me take control, Huh? It's because you don't trust me to take care of the **** missions...> and it went on from there until Azra killed the sim. Abaddon just started to ignore her after the entire thing had repeated itself over 3 times, and she knew that nothing new was going to come out of Apollyon's mental mouth.

She collapsed on the cot, arms under her head. It was then that she realized that she was still in the sim's equipment, which she promptly shed. Abaddon hadn't even broken a sweat during either battle...

She slammed her hand against the nearby wall, leaving an impression. She should have been paying closer attention. She shouldn't let her feelings for another interfere with her work. It was what had cost her the last time that she had been with him on a mission.

She looked against the wall where her real Asterael was propped, not the one that she had used in the Sim. This one was scratched and marred, and the leather strips that covered the grip was worn with age and use. It was sitting the same place where she had put it for her last mission, though it was obvious that it had been cleaned and taken care of. Someone didn't want her to feel that her space had been invaded, which she was thankful for.

She then turned her face up to the ceiling, glaring at its plain whiteness. She wasn't any good for distance fighting, she knew that, but she could be a good defender for the snipers. Her hand-to-hand and reflex time was superhuman, as it ought to be, and she could easily take care of her own. But then her mind would definitely be on Az then, and she wouldn't be focusing on the mission and protecting her quarry.

It took her a moment for her to realize that Apollyon had shut up. She sighed in relief, then said, "I think that I will need more to eat...even though it was just a sim, that battle took a lot out of us, didn't it?"

There was no answer.

"Fine, be pissed off with me. I'm going to eat, then shower and dress in my comfy combat clothing, then be ready to regroup again, just as Azra said. So you had better get over yourself."

And she left to eat a hurried meal, larger than the one that she had before the sim becasue of how much energy she had used, and showered, thinking about how she could fit into the team.

Azrael shook his head, clearing it, nothing felt broken, just a little sore. His body knew what to do when it was knocked around so he had hit as best as possible. He expected blinding pain in any second. Instead he heard the growled "Keeper" from Masraik, and watched as he tore his way from the room. The falling rubble kept him trapped for another moment, and when it was clear he burst from the room, only to see Masraik, jumping down a lift shaft. Lockdown was already in progress, he was about to follow, when a security team rushed out of the hallway carrying what looked like tranq guns, and strange contraptions similar to flamethrowers in appearance.. "SIR, Are you alright?" The lead soldier said, a GELF from Azrael's own pool.

"Masraik went berserk, think he's after one of his techs or somehting. I don't think anything you are carrying is gonna put much of a dent in him." He finished, eyeing the rather light armaments.

The leader, whose name escaped Azrael at the moment nodded but said "Telemetry picked up Masraik in your vicinity, we were equipped with these specifically, the protocols started working on this shortly after Masraik's particular... quirk was discovered. It's a very strong tranquilizer with a nutrient destroying enzyme. They aren't sure if it will stop him, but it should at least slow him down, maybe give him his faculties back." Azrael wondered why it hadn't been introduced yet, but decided that time was more important than answers at least right now.

"Load me up, I'll aid you in take down." With the characteristic deference, almost reverence that usually came from one of his derivatives, the GELF motioned to one of the soldiers who immediately tossed Azrael his tranq gun, and sprayer. The sprayer went on his back, a shoulder strap holding the nozzel in place as he held onto the tranq gun. "Alright let's go."

Rushing to the lift he looked down it, he saw the shaft of light where Masraik had exited some few floors below. The lifts didn't use the archaic mechanical systems involving wires, weights, and motors, but instead relied on electromagnetic propulsion, so there were no easy hand holds, and lockdown had stopped the lifts in place. Prepareing himself Azrael leapt, managing to hit one of the magnetic ridges that renewed the propulsive force in the lift tunnel. bouncing from ridge to ridge he made it down and out of the tunnel in time to see Masraik's retreating back going around a corner. Sprinting as he heard the sound of feet landing behind him, looking back it was his derivative hot on his heels. Turning his attention forward he rounded the corner, skidding slightly in the light slippers he had been relaxing in.

Spotting Masraik he took a shot with the tranq gun, the needle sailing through the air, and pluncking solidly into the neck of the moving mountain. He fired two more needles and saw two other needles bloom besides his three. "How many should it take?" He asked.

"I can't honestly say sir. They never tested for fear of producing an immunity response to future treatments." Azrael nodded <of course.> "What about this?" Azrael asked hefting the nozzell attached to his backpack. "Secondary delivery method, lyophilized and concentrated, should work even quicker... but it has a very limited range."

Azrael considered and then started forward. <This had Deus damned well better work.>
Calling out to Masraik, who surely had processed them by now, Azrael hoped to help the process by reminding Masraik who he was. "Mas. Calm down now, we need you. But you have to be able to control this, remember who you are. Come on, show me I can trust you." He kept approaching slowly, ready to spray the concentrated tranquilizer and Enzyme mix, but not actually brandishing either weapon. His derivative was waiting behind him, tranq gun at the ready, but not immediately threatening.

Quantas jogged through the halls with a weapon that was almost as long as he was tall at a pace that was faster than most noms couldn't keep up with even in their dreams. Not that he was running, but the thing wasn't exactly a paperweight either. The railgun weighed at least a good fifty kilos. Even with his enhancements it started to get heavy. No human, though, would have been able to use it in the field with it's weight and blow back, let alone trying to consistently aim it. People think of a sniper and they think of a fragile little thing. Not me. Let's see them lug this thing around. Shoot an enemy from over 5 km? Sure, give me a gun big enough. This was it.

He got to Azreal's quarters to see a group standing around. Apparently, that was as far as they were able to go. Masraik had blown through an armored wall and then through a lift. There weren't any blood streaks on anything, but there was plenty of damage. Apparently Azreal was following him. "Report," he said to the group.

"Masraik went down the lift. Azreal and our superior went down the shaft to stop him in his tracks," they said. Quantas started to enter the shaft and one of them called out. "Don't you want one of our tranqs? They're made to stop him," he said.

Quantas chuckled and shook the railgun a little. "This was made to stop anything. Though, it probably wouldn't live afterward." At that, Quantas leaped down the shaft and used what the protocols gave him; the ability to tackle nearly any terrain in any shape or form. Landing at a crouch through the open doorway, he could hear and feel them not too far beyond. Walking around a corner, there was Masraik and two GELF. One at the battle-ready and one he knew was fast enough not to worry about stance very much.

"Mas. Calm down now, we need you. But you have to be able to control this! Remember who you are. Come on! Show me I can trust you," Azreal said. The fully armored and armed Longview walked up behind them with weapon ready but unaimed. Resting it against his hip, the gun only had a few millimeters of clearance to the ceiling. Quantas was fast too. If Azreal could talk him out of whatever was going on, he would let him. On the other hand, the fully armored Masraik was known to be a little wacko and Azreal wasn't exactly dressed to impress at the moment. Neither was the other GELF Really, considering the beast they were to face. Tranquilizers... Even if they're designed by the protocols, look what else was designed and screwed up.

"I'd listen to him Mas... Ol' buddy ol' pal," he said calmly. Gimme a reason to make your head a crater. Please.

It didn't take long for Masraik to realize something was wrong. Or, actually something was incredibly right for the first time in a long time. He stood straight and tall, no longer dragging along his maddened body. Turning, he saw Azrael and Quantas and grinned. His mind was clear, he felt relaxed, and no longer the tensed stress his body normally felt was easing quickly.

He looked down at himself. He had already reached his normal size without even realizing it. But, something nagged at his mind. <Gain nutrients, eat! Dig through this concrete to soft soil. Get into that biological waste unit! Get to the cafeteria, doesn't it smell great?!>

He tried to take a step forward, but his legs wouldn't cooperate. Mas remembered the prick of the needles in his neck, and reached up experimentally. He found the needles still sticking out from between the scales and plucked them out one by one. <Was it harder to reach his neck than normal?> Mas tried stepping forward again, and fell to one knee. Now something was wrong.

Looking up at Azrael quizzically, Mas realized that he was still shrinking. Was he the size of a normal man now? Maybe a little shorter than a normal man? His mind began screaming for nutrients to sustain itself. Mas didn't know where he was currently, but that those in front of him had done something to him drastic. It wasn't painful, it was blissful. His mind had never been so clear before. He could remember things he had never known before. He saw glimpses of past berserking. He even thought that his intelligence wasn't muddled with anger or desire for dominance for a change!

He stopped shrinking, although his armor didn't really fit properly and sagged off of his right shoulder as he stood. He felt like a child in pajamas much too large for himself. The armor wasn't necessarily heavy, but it was definitely not as light as he'd remembered it being.

Masraik looked Azrael in the eye and dropped to one knee in front of him. "I apologize for whatever trouble I have been lately. I understand that I was rash in my decision during the sim, it was just a sim. Also, I should be researching with my team to control myself and not creating better, stronger formulas. I'm not sure what happened after the sim... if you could enlighten me, I'd appreciate it. The last thing I remember, although very angry, I was going to get the serums that you asked for. As I said, they are everywhere and I don't know where half of them even are. I do not wish to be excluded because I am a liability to the mission, but if you feel there are other reasons I should be, please feel free to make that decision with my blessings."

Masraik stood up and looked at the rubble around himself and at the lift. "And umm... for whatever I just did..." He looked over at Quantas and at his readied rail gun. He also realized for the first time that the alarm was sounding, and that there was an Azrael GELF standing nearby. Suddenly worried, "I didn't hurt anyone did I?"

His stomach growled. "Oh, and can I go eat? Whatever you hit me with is doing a number on my stomach. I feel like a shriveled old man!"

Ahhh bullocks... Quantas thought while Masraik shrank, but probably for the best. Next, Masraik went into an apologetic fluster on the level of only one person in Quantas' long history, his first lover. Also the reason for his first icey sleep. You're never really sorry unless you regret the things you do. Action matters more than words, he thought. Quantas wasn't foolish enough yet that he would let Azreal know his misgivings about it all, but at least he was at a size that just about any GELF could deal with now.

"The only one you had a chance to hurt was Azreal, but I don't think you were after him. He was apparently after you," Quantas replied, "Lucky that stuff works. I have explosive rounds in this thing that would eat you for lunch." The faceplate on the armor opened and he patted Azreal on the back. "Nice job, Az. Always the hunter. We really should do our old mock-up sims sometimes. Those were the days... Heh... See you in the armory."

With that, Longview turned his back and started his walk back to the armory with a short pleasurable climb up a couple levels of a turbolift shaft. Children... At least he's at a level he can be spanked now. Leave it to Azreal...

Azrael watched stunned as the mountainous form before him shrank to normal size, and then continued on down to a size small for a normal man, let alone a Pure One. He took in the apolgy with quiet dignity, more to cover his shock than anything else. His mind racing. Finally he nodded and said "Of course Masraik... of course. And You are back on the mission, Launch is in a half an hour. Don't be late." If he could control the transformation then he could at least be used with a certain level of safety.

Azrael nodded absently to Quantas as he left. The old hunter sims had been fun, the new sim tech would make them excellent. He might have to open one of those back up sometime. But not now. He turned to his derivative and said "Make sure each member of the team I'm leavign with is equipped with one of the dart guns, and two clips of darts." It was probably overkill, but the GELF nodded and then left. The guns and darts were small, easily stowed, and would not add anything onerous to their armament.

He made his way to the armory, and preapred to arm himself.

ooc: I want everyone gathered in the armory by their next post, we will be leaving tomorrow, and I have some GMLy presents for people, but ONLY people who make it to the armory before I post next.

ooc: Moving this post down to the bottom since Azrael hadn't made it to the armory yet, like I had misread / thought.

"Gah...I feel so useless..." she muttered to herself, getting out of her cot to go to the armory. It was nearly time to go, and she needed to be in full battle attire, not the small amount that she had been wearing for the sim. She had been laying down for several minutes, racking her mind as to what her specific part would be in the group dynamic. She trudged through the nearly empty halls to the lift to get to the armory. Sighing, she went in the lift, and stood quietly while it shifted her to the armory.

((OOC: If you don't like this part, GE, then ignore it.))

When the doors opened, Abaddon jerked her head back with surprise. "Oh...Azra. Hi. Sorry, you just startled me." She rubbed her left arm, and then said, "You wanna walk together? Even though the armory is jsut around the corner..."

OOC EDIT: Uhh...didn't see Mas' post...but...isn't Az just now heading towards the armory, and isn't in there yet??

Just for clarification. If he is already there, then I will edit my post accordingly.

ooc: I can work with that, I hadn't actually said I had arrived, though it did sort of sound like it... but I can work with both posts, Abaddon sees me before I get there, we can then walk to the armory, and Mas can just miss seeing abaddon at first, the armory is rather large after all. SO I'll make this little post now, and promise the gmly gifts later today, so everyone has a LITTLE more time to get to the armory.

IC:
Azrael was caught by Abaddon as he headed to the armory. She asked him to walk with her with uncharacteristic timidity. "Of course. What's on your mind?" He looked at her with slight concern, offering his arm.

ooc:Not much but there, if Mir hasn't responded by say 4 or 5 I'll go ahead and move us on if at all possible, my schedule has gotten a little whacked today.

Abaddon just shrugged after taking Az's arm. "Well, I was thinking...why did they awaken me in the first place for this mission? I mean, they have one of my descendants, so the quick reflexes and speed are taken care of, they have you as the military mind, Mas as the brawn, two snipers and people that can act as guards for each. I feel...I don't know, out of place. I'm not used to feeling like this." She shook her head. "I know that you can't answer that question with any confidence...but still. I'm close-range melee. I feel like i have nothing to do in this group."

Kindle was grinning to herself as she walked towards the armory. {People who live more than 100 years should have to go through people training before combat training hahaha} She kept that thought to herself, as a joke to resurface at a later date.

As if on queue, she saw two of the Pure Ones proceded to waved at Abaddon and Azrael, "Heyas! I've got all the requested armor and weapons."

She looked around for Masraik, she enjoyed being on the mission with him, and she didn't quite feel like the others were about making any kinds of bonds {...weapons}

She looked at Az and Abbie, {She doesn't seem like someone i could ever actually call that}, she tried to read their body language as she approached {Looks like its okay ot approach them at the moment}.

Normally chatty, she had her mind on alot of issues, did she have the right guns, where's mas, is the other sniper gonna be able to work well with her, the gelf matt was nice, does casper know a good joke, will everyone appreciate the good food they get to have as a team, is she gonna make a difference in this mission, she better make a difference in this mission, ... suffice it to say she was wondering in her thoughts, waiting for Az to get the party started.

Mas watched as everyone left him standing there. <Umm guys?> Masraik looked down at himself and did what he could to pull the armor up so that he wouldn't trip over himself.

"Thirty minutes huh?" He said out loud to himself. "I don't think I have even rested or eaten since the sim was over, and I'm already being pressed for time..." He shuffled along, only to find that the lift was currently out of order. So, he found another way up. Thinking to himself, Mas decided that he would have to stick with mission priority for now, and hope to grab something quick along the way. <Maybe Kindle will have one of those energy bars on her!>

Masraik's stomach growled at the thought. <Or maybe twenty of them...> He didn't really have the energy to run, but he jogged with all his might to the nearest food location. It happened to be a freeze dried pod vendor for scientists who didn't have time to run to the cafeteria, or wait through long lines on lunch breaks that weren't quite long enough.

"Masraik Slogger, gene A01. Dispense Random." He waited as the swirling cone opened a door and produced a jerky of some sort. <It'll have to do for now. That's what I get for not making up my mind on what I want to eat.> Masraik tore ravenously at the jerky as he jogged towards the armory. It was not nearly enough to satisfy the beast in his belly.

Masraik reached the armory in quiet a huff. He'd never been this out of breath before! <Last time I was this out of breath, I'd used an android as a battering ram to destroy a few buildings!> He walked in the door and put his hands on his knees to catch his breath. He saw Azrael and Quintas before him and stood upright shocked. <I've shrunken more since they left me!> Masraik looked down only to realize when he'd stood up, his armor had easily fallen to his ankles.

He inspected himself, looking at every part of him that he could see. Everything looked the same, a bit skinnier than normal, but healthy-ish. He was still riveted with the scars of war. A puncture wound here, a large gash there. The usual scars that showed his experience, but none of the scars from wounds that were detrimental to his performance. Those were always removed.

Suddenly realizing the presence of ladies in the armory, he ran over to a locker in his birthday suit, grabbed hold of the door, and tore. It gave just about as easily as it should have, although a bit heavier than it should have been. <How could I have not noticed those women when I first entered! Get your thoughts in order Mas.>

To his surprise, the locker he had torn open had a smaller pair of green camouflage pants inside that looked like they may fit. He grabbed them and put them on quickly, not currently caring who's they were. Mas ran back around the corner, and looked UP at Azrael. His eye's were level with Azrael's chest now?! "Umm boss, we may have an issue here. Exactly how much of what did you shoot me with?"

ooc: this section will take place after Azrael and Quintas get to the armory. Sorry I guess I made an assumption from reading previous posts that Azrael and Quintas had actually made it already.

OOC: Eheheh...'^_^

IC:
Once the sim ended, Casper recieved the reactivation signal from the sim computer. His systems rebooted in about two minutes. When his optics came online, he was catching the last few phrases of Azreal talking to Masraik. With his memory core still intact, Casper could derive what Azreal might be upset about. Sure, the sim wouldn't let him die, but he certainly felt being thrown a hundred feet. Casper let Azreal tkae his role as commander, and didn't interfere with the scolding. He left the sim room silently, and made his way towards the android service wing.

Their true mission may very well last far longer than his previous engagments. He had to be sure he was 100% before leaving, though he did not detect and abnormalities during the sim. Shortly after interfacing with the diagnostic computer in the andriod center, alarms began sounding; indicating a securty breach in one of the levels above. Disconnecting from the diagnostic, Casper grabbed a side arm from a nearby lockbox while the human techs in the room did similarly. As a combatant, Casper's duty was to engage the threat. The tech were only meant to protect the sensitive information in the andriod bay.

Taking the lift up to the living quarters - the origin of the alarm - Casper cautiously stepped into the hallway. Accessing a secrity terminal, his new clearance level gave him permissions to cameras and weapon signature readings. Using that information, he found a group confronting Masraik in a hallway. Casper raised the pistol as Azreal and a group of GELFs fired some kind of dart weapon into Masraik's neck. Apparantly, it was some kind of tranquilizer, as Masraik began to shrink almost instantly.

Effectively nutralized, Casper put his weapon away and crossed the hallway, stopping next to Longview. Casper didn't have time to complete his diagnostic, so he made for the loadout armory attached to the hangar from where their plane would be departing. Initially, he was behind Quantas, but the curious GELF made the decision to climb the elevator shaft instead of waiting on the thing to arrive. As strange as that seemed, Casper poked the lift summon to an adjacent lift so as not to hit Quantas. Strangely enough, by the time Casper reached the top level (OOC: assuming its ground level since taking off a plane would be best accomplished without having to taxi it upwards first) Quantas was alreay ahead of him.

He entered the armory a few seconds behind Quantas. Being of a similar role, they made thier selections from the same area of the racks of weapons. Casper gazed at the literal cannon Quantas dragged up here with him. Magnetic rail weapons were powerful, but Casper couldn't see the logic of a rifle version of them. As tank and battleship cannons they were excellent choices, but logically, a smaller slug weapon would be ideal for a sniper. Unless, of course, they encountered the same kind of power armor resistance as in that sim.

Casper chose his same loadout as he did for the sim, but this time took an extra anti-personnel plasma cell. After making his selections, he left the armory for the briefing room. They had already been briefed, but it was more roomy than the somewhat cramped armory.

OOC: For the record, Mas broke the lift az and quantas came down. ;) For all I know, we're using a VTOL airship. I learned a long time ago that GE throws curveballs (IE we could be hundreds of feet underground) for fun; thus why i have no problem throwing knuckleballs his way either. ^_^ lol

As for the briefing room, I'm assuming that you are staying in the armory, because I don't think we were told to go to a briefing room. If so, addendum as you see fit. :) I'm not going to edit for continuity.

IC:

Quantas noticed Casper eye his railgun conspicuously. For an android, it was longer than usual to compute recognition. especially the newer models. Even though androids are devoid of external emotion Quantas has learned, over his myriad of years, to read between the lines. "You like it?" he asked Casper. Bending down, he retrieved the rounds he popped out of the cartridge earlier. Unloading the cartridge, he placed the gun back on it's mantle with the other two. A few moments later, everything was as it was before the alarm.

"I'm sure you appreciate long distance warfare... Really... really... long distance warfare," Longview stated. He humphed then continued. "There are obviously other applications too, such as for use on 'things' like Masraik. Or Deus. Overkill for a tank, when even an RPG would do the job. Fast enough to hit an aerial target, though I haven't had one in... I can hardly recall..."

Quantas stepped back to look at the remaining arsenal. "A dying breed. Only three of twenty remain. One of the pinnacles of pre-collapse that is relatively unchanged to date despite minor efficiency upgrades." Taking a step to where he dropped his previously ordered weaponry he started loading everything he took off previously. Blabbing while he did so.

"Honestly, Kinetic weapons of conventional rounds don't need to be any smaller or destructive than they are now. The potential of energy weapons greatly surpasses them, but they are still useful. Total overkill, until you need it and don't have it though. It takes a machine like you or a biological sniper extraordinaire like myself to use it to any use over extreme distances. Gravity curvatures, wind changes over miles of land, a steady hand within micrometers..." Quantas wagged a finger at the android. "I was designed around this weapon much like you were designed around me... Sort of..." He waved away the similarity and continued on with the history lesson. "I was designed to love it, rather." Longview raised his arms and face to the ceiling dramatically with a crazy gleeful smile as he spoke. "A weapon that matched my own precision in blinding perfection."

The grin went away and his arms dropped, accenting the evident sardonic tone in his later expressions, "Except along with the weapon, I'm getting increasingly outdated and less useful as my age shows up as genetic faults. After this long on the battlefield, barriers in my GENMEM conditioning are started to fade just a tad. I could probably shoot you now without hardly any resistance from it if all I did was rationalize long and fast enough. Thankfully, I'm not crazy and have been proven more than a hundred percent loyal to the protocols independent of my built in patriotism. 'Fanatical', I believe it was said in my psych profile. That doesn't mean i'm not dissident of their mistakes... but hey; better than a Corponation! Eh?" He chuckled and nudged the 'doid.

"So then, 'Spot,'" Quantas addressed Casper. "Aside from the acronym, how about some details of yourself, and how you're useful aside from spotting? I saw the holotapes; you probably had the most time in your given role than anyone else. Quick response and problem solving, a frame to match, but short-lived in confrontational combat. A good solid soldier," Quantas said matter-of-factly and nodded in affirmation a moment or two later. "But what am I missing?"

OOC: I added the briefing room since loadout areas tend to have them attached. I'll just leave my post as is until GE gives a litte more envrionment. I did state that we had already been briefed, so I don't expect another one :P

IC:
Casper, as one might imagine, was not much of a conversationalist. Not that he minded Quantas' chatting, but rather he really didn't have anything to talk about. Normally, he was booted up, sent of a mission, retrieved and placed on standby. He could stand still in a single spot for days without getting ansy or complaining. It wasn't like he had any hobbies.

"You didn't mention my purpose, as defined by the Archangel Field Manual. Despite the circumstances during the sim, I am not a frontlines figher, like yourself. My strengths are in recon and information gathering. Normally, clandestine operations are left to GELFs with condidtioned training, but I am capable of those missions as well.

"Many commanders feel andriods lack a certain capacity to adapt, but in truth, organics - humans especially - are diffucult to adapt to change. There is a state of being for machines known as Singularity. The AI department in this facitlity tries very hard to prevent it. I suppose to answer your question, I'd have to say that any information missing about me is what the human programmers did not include in my systems. In fact, machines, andriods and gynoids in particular, can take on any role of which a biological life form is capable, excluding reproduction."

Casper fell silent, feeling he had sufficiently quenched Quantas' curiosity. Seeing an oppertunity to continue the conversation, Casper continued after a somewhat awkward moment of silence, "As far as Corponations go, I view them as an example of mankind's flaws. The Archangels know this, which is why thier nation prospers while the world around them withers and dies. They wrought their own destruction many centuries ago, though I have to appreciate human ability to perservere."

"Hmm..." Quantas pondered when Casper finished. "I beleive I understand what you mean. For how physically enduring my ilk and I are made to be, they have, I believe, the upper hand. As far as keeping their hope up to the bitter end, on a whole. Though, considering none of them make it to as long a service life as either of us, I doubt it would last as long as they do. Their disposition that is." Scratching the polymer cheek of the headgear on his rigid armor, he jumped back to Casper's fuctionality.

"I don't know why they wouldn't use you for purposes like my own," he concluded, bewildered. "Our functionalities are rather similar. I do information retrieval nearly as often as I'm sent to eliminate someone or something. Like you said about yourself being a front line fighter. Neither am I, in actuality. You must be new enough that they haven't tested you in situations outside of your intended role yet, heh."

Quantas patted one of the mid and short range weapons, though he had a sniper rifle he was resting his weight on. "Honestly I'm just bringing one clip for the rifle. I figure most of the job is going to be holding the front door and waiting for them, after clearing the sniper nests I would personally take up; or going in with them as support and detection. The latter I'd need closer range weaponry that won't bang into cramped walls when I spin around to cover my ass."

ooc: Alright, long promised and not yet delivered, here it comes guys, sorry for the delay.
Slight change of plans though, instead of giving each of you individual gifts, I will give you all permission to come up with special equipment for yourselves, it should be geared slightly towards self reliance, and things that will allowed prolonged field operation without Protocol support. The ideas I was gonna use but am too busy to implement in a post: weapons (specifically a light weight "assault" railgun for Quantas/Casper and possibly Kindle) with "mass gatherers" nano machines that collect dust and debri in order to form new ammunition on the fly. No good for extended rapid fire, but capable of replenishing ammo supplies over time. REactive armor for our stealth units capable of blending them perfectly with their surroundings for a short period rendering them all but invisible to even the most sensitive visual, thermal, and EM detection. A range weapon other than the blaster/blade on the shield for Mas, something heavy duty, like anti armor heavy duty. Upgrades for driods and borgs are acceptable as a lot of this tech is very "plug and play". ALright have fun with it.

IC:
Azrael walked for a silent moment with Abaddon. She never failed to surprise him. One of the supreme warriors of her age, deadly beyond any mortal beings ability to comprehend, and she was insecure as to her position on the mission? He looked at her, his eyes taking on a softness he rarely allowed to show in them. "I can answer that question with confidence. We'll be fighting in close quarters, unless we split up there will be a group of us, and even the best shot could accidentally hit a teammate in a close quarters group firefight. Melee however, while more dangerous to the individual, has a psychological edge. Bullets are feared but they are... ephemerial, they fly through the air unseen. The damage is visible but the weapon is not. You and I tearing through the ranks like a cyclone of steel and rage though? That IS visible, it instills fear in the enemies. It breaks them."

"As to your derivative, he is just that. He is not you. He is similar in some respects, but not the same. Besides." He smirked at her, "While I know you prefer melee, those reflexes of yours still make you damn deadly with a ranged weapon, if you would consent to carrying more than a pistol I think you'd find that you are almost as good as I am with it."

He squeezed her arm reassuringly. He knew that this was a momentary lapse in confident, something about Abaddon wouldn't allow her to doubt herself for too long, especially when battle loomed. They had nearly reached the armory at this point, entering it and separating to get their different load outs.

Azrael loaded up in much the same way he had for the Sim, the multi-rifle, the grenades, though he went with different types. He grabbed three antipersonenel frag grenades, three anti armor plasma grenades, and as a finishing touch, three anti-matter greandes. Azrael figured if they were going to have full armory access they might as well use it. He started to put on his body armor when a tech hurried in "Uh... uhm... gentlemen?" Clearly he was flustered addressing such a varied group of fairly important archangels. Many of the techs viewed them with a certain awe, even though they literally knew the Archangels inside and out.

"Yes?" Azrael answered.

"I was instructed to bring down some tech specifically for your group, its some of the latest weapons systems we've been working on. There is something here for each of you... umm let's see... " He took some full body armor, a pair of gloves, and a sword off the rack and looked at Azrael, "these are for you sir, the Body armor is fairly standard, its a little better at energy dispersal, that's kinetic, electromagnetic, and thermal. But, its designed to emit a light source on the inside optimized for your photosynthetic pathway. This should allow you to produce energy even in the heat of battle.The Gloves are designed to amplify and trasnmit your electrical charges." He held them up displaying the palms which had a magnetic sheen. "They've got micro fusion batteries in them, they are designed to draw off and store a continuous draw of your energy, but the batteries also have enough juice already in them to provide a large amount of juice on their own. The sword," He hefted it, "Is meant to work in conjuction with the gloves. It is, of course a miraculous blade in general, but not much different than your normal blade, super hardened mono molecular edge, nearly impossible to dull, but, no longer equally impossible to sharpen."

He tossed the blade to Azrael who caught it nimbly out of the air despite the off target lob. Put a little energy into it sir, about enough to say... fry an elevator panel." Azrael did not flush, but he eyed the tech, who squirmed uncomfortably under the eagle gaze. Azrael put the energy into the sword. A brilliant blue arc sprang up along its edge, the sudden heat and light making Azrael flinch momentarily. Then a smile spread across his face. "Plasma?"

"Plasma." The tech replied. "Not only does it provide you with an instant sharpening of the blade but the plasma arc can cut through even hardened targets. We tested it on a blast door, with a good bit of muscle, and time you can make it through with this. It also has an independent battery, gives it about 4 minutes of juice, in case one of your teamates needs to use it. The trigger is well hidden, the pommel ball has the battery engage in it."

ooc: also sorry for not responding to each person's post... just wanted to get a post up.

Mas was a little on edge at this point. Was everyone ignoring him? Mas had watched as others entered. Casper, Kindle, some flaky technician. <Casper passed right by me like I didn't exist! Quantas is probably ignoring me. Kindle seems side tracked. Azrael must have gotten distracted by the shiny blade that bastard technician brought in.>

Masraik was normally a very angry person in this sort of situation, but at this point, he was rather panicked. He even ignored the rather attractive new shield on that technicians rack. Rather shaky, he ran over to Kindle... and looked at her at eye level. "Kindle, umm, you have those weird doctors working for you right? You don't maybe kinda happen to know something about what's happening to me do you? Well, i know what's happening to me, but how do I make it stop!"

ooc: catch up post just playing like I was in there whole time to save it from being overly crappy

IC: Matthias watched on from the background for a few moments before a tech walked up to him with a bag of some sort. Placing the bag on a table in front of him, he motion Matthias closer. Pulling out a body suit almost identical in style to his own, he spoke "This is a reactive body suit that'll blend into your environment as well as having an increased protection against light machine gun fire common to the infantry that were in the sim." Matthias smiled as he geared up into the suit after undressing to shorts and an a style muscle shirt. "Feels comfortable and basically weightless."

The tech smiled "Designed to allow you your full abilities while being protected. Now next on the list." Reaching in and pulling out a katana that actually was his. "We've upgraded your katana to have the molecular edge to make it impossible to dull, well practically anyway and intensely sharp. It'll cut through almost any thing you can place in front of it." Matthias held the blade in his hand, extremely light still...a nice touch. Sheathing it in the same place his other was but noticed something different. As he went to place the blade in the sheath, it actually collapsed into itself to be nothing but the hilt attaching itself to the sheath. "Added flexibility for you." The tech grinned.

"Your guns have been slightly modified to fire larger calibur rounds without sacrificing accuracy, fire rate or ammunition per clip. Also, the silencers are completely silenced...no smoke output and no sound to the naked ear or eye." Matthias nodded "You guys do good work still." Grinning slightly joking with them as the tech pulled out Matthias's string of throwing knives.

"Just made this the same molecular edging as your katana but without the folding into themselves part." The tech smiled before grabbing the bag. "Your mask was already good, we just made it match the reactive armor stealth capabilities." He said tossing the balaclava onto the table before walking away.

Matthias slipped the final part of his armament on, the mask, and grinned. 'This feels nice.' He glanced around at everyone...almost time.

"Excuse me, Sir?" Quantas was halfway through chuckling at his last statement when a tech had interjected.

"Yes?" Quantas asked. He eyed the technician, feeling a little apprehension coming from him. Quantas didn't blame him. After all, there was an all-star cast here today. "Did you need something from me?" he continued.

"N-no sir! Quite the contrary! HA!" the tech exclaimed, proud of the achievements his group must have obviously come upon. "The Seraph pool has done well, but you especially. It's been a while since some of your tech has been updated to current tech levels, so naturally, here they are!" he said and waved Quantas over to a rack. Quantas looked to Casper and shrugged.

When he stood in front of the rack he nodded, slightly impressed with the shiny new toys, but not altogether understanding what each item did. "Well, here's the Anti-Detection Reactive Armor System, which we like to call 'ADRAS'," he said and pointed. Continuing on, he sounded a little regretful, "Unfortunately, we didn't expect you to need a low-power-armor system like you have on now. But if you wish, we could see about integrating some of those systems..."

Quantas held a hand up and lightly shook his head, "Nah. I just don't know what we're going to expect down there. How does it compare, in terms of protection?"

"Not quite better. But if they can't see you..." the tech shrugged. "Moving on," he said, then pointed out a rifle quite similar to the rail-gun he had just replaced, "a more portable version of the PRG-3. I present the PRG-7x. It is semi-automatic; instead of having a long five-second delay for capacitors to recharge. It is a point-two-five second recharge rate. The battery has a twenty round limit on charge, but due to new nano-tech will recharge automatically. It takes two hours. Feasibly, with how small they are, you could bring two and possibly finish a mission with only a side-arm for use instead of a backup high-power skirmish weapon. It's armament is different than the other one, and it's range is less by 1.65km, but that shouldn't be much of an issue." Quantas nodded slowly, considering switching out the sniper rifle with this one.

"Especially considering," the tech said, taking one step over and picking up five PRG-7x ammo cartridges, "that these rounds were made one by one over the course of seventy minutes by nano-machines just as they would be in the field." Putting the clips down, he picked up a device next to it. "Just load into the device, which we call the MunItions Nano-AsseMbler, or MINAM device, the specifications of what rounds you wish to develop using a pre-loaded list of templates and it will make it for you. Just load a clip for the desired ammunition and it will do the rest once you tell it to construct it. It holds one clip at a time."

Quantas took the device and held it in his hand. It was small, light, and compact. Not much larger than the clip currently inside of it. "It was designed for the Angel that is cut off from retrieval and must survive on his own, the long-haulers like yourself, and producing ammunition for a weapon picked up in the field for which you have no ammo source. For normal mission applications, you could bring two clips for your rifle. One full and one empty. Just load your clips when you get into position."

"Hmm... I think I might just like this newfangled stuff..." Quantas said with a smile behind his armored mask. "Heh."

"Indeed, it's really cool. It was designed for large-scale ammunition production, for our facilities here. It is based on the same technology that recharges your batteries for the new rifle. Except in that sense it does a complex series of reorganizing for electrical use, rather than reorganizing ambient atoms around it to produce plasma bolts, propellant for conventional rounds, the jacket, and bullet itself. Very handy for if you suspect you need a different round type once you arrive at your destination. Maybe something with a little more umph, or a little more accuracy? I believe soon we'll have it down to making attachments in the field. Maybe a couple years. I don't think we'll ever make a version to make weapons, though. Should that get into wrong hands, it could be disastrous."

"Quite true..." Quantas said, and attached it to his bandoleer. "Thank you very much, my friend. I think you have extended my service and efficiency to greater bounds..."

"My pleasure sir!" he said with great enthusiasm and saluted, before going to the next person on his list.


"Huh," Longview said to himself, "that rifle even integrates with my weapon systems, I see... Cool stuff..."

Quantas leaned the sniper rifle against the shelf and discarded the clip for it also, instead opting for the PRG-7x and two batteries, one of which he placed in the gun. Again inspecting the MINAM, he looked up the specs for the PRG-7x ammunition. It indeed had all the same ammunition types as the PRG-3, but they were just a tad different in configuration for the smaller size of the PRG-7x. Despite the severely reduced size in battery, gun, ammunition, and most notably length of the barrel, it still packed similar specs and only marginal disadvantage in distance and accuracy. The MINAM would be an extremely useful tool in application to this very versatile weapon.

Quantas chose to switch armors to the ADRAS, in lieu of the unknown nature of the mission. Though it had less of a rating on defense, the tech made a good point. Can't hit what you can't see. That includes use in half-lit corridors, jungle, desert, highland, lowland, and urban settings. He just had to change quickly, or miss continue arming up in the vehicle.

OOC: Sorry for the long post. Figured I should give a fairly standard designation to some of the equipment. The ADRAS could be the system that is applied to all the armors given us, and not that specific armor style itself. (notice I had in there about him possibly adding it to the power-armor possibly, though it would include fab time.) the MINAM is referring to what GE mentioned earlier. Since no one else decided to take it up. ;)

I tried to make everything balanced. If it can be more powerful, though, let me know GE. :) I mean, hey, I wouldn't mind a round a minute instead of 1 standard PRG-7x Armor Piercing round every 3 minutes maximum speed. (I'm sure it would vary depending on what round is being produced. Perhaps simple rounds like pistol and SMG would take very little time, less for the smaller Assault rifle rounds, and a little more for high caliber magnum rounds. A little less for plasma rounds. Or for plasma, if it is a pellet and an energy charge, maybe not that long, given the principle used for the battery for the PRG-7x.

"Mas, you just look horrible!" Kindle ran over to him. "Listen, I'm sure one of the engi's can fix you right up!" She punched a few buttons on her arm "Hey, Micky, umm, bring the team down here to me would ya?" "Nah, just some techish questions, if you know anyone on the Pure One Masraik's team, bring them down as well, but I'd warn them that he's likely to be awful mad". She gave Mas one of her best smiles.

She was still standing with Masraik, her hand on his arm when one of the techs approached...not recognizing him, she immediately assumed he was one of Masraik's. "Well, took you long enough, you better fix this, and fast at THAT!"

"I'm sorry miss, I think you have me mistaken...I'm with the Cyber-Organic Enhancement and Integration Division, I've worked under your parents. If you could come with me for just a couple of minutes, I can inject and link the new nanites, and get you in your new armor, and few other special items" He smiled at her.

Kindle was worried about Masraik, but the lure drew her away, she looked at him with a combination 'Do you mind, thanks Mas, I knew you wouldn't mind' look. "I'll be right back Mas!" Then to the tech "Awesome, I'm so excited!"

ooc: Kindle is getting a new rifle that can fire special rounds and multiple rounds, custom armor that's resistant to heat and includes a mask that links with her eyes allowing her to see while being protected, nanites that provide special targeting capabilities and a larger energy pool, and a pack of energy boosting injectors. I don't have time to describe them in detail till friday or saturday, so i gave the short description just in case you needed to move the story along a little.

ooc: ALrighty back, recharged, ready to roll. Let's get the main mission rolling, if you haven't claimed your special weapons yet, sry.

IC:
As Masraik pleaded with Kindle for help a tech moving by him overheard and said "Oh, that's right, well, the tranq's should wear off in a matter of an hour or so. Faster if you get some good solid nutrient pellets in you. Here." He handed Masraik a sack of nutrient pellets, the standard field ration for Angels in the field. Each pellet had an entire days worth of nutrients and calories. About the size of a normal man's palm, they were largely flavorless, and did little for the sensation of hunger, but they could keep a person going for weeks without adverse affects.

In fact there were bags of the rations on the cart behind the rest of the items. The tech addressed the group of them, his nervousness showing a little "Umm... well all of you have been issued a couple of things, we have here the downloaders," He pointed to a row of small electronic devices, each designed to interface with computing systmes of all makes and models and rip information from them at an astounding speed. "As well as two months worth of field rations, and as per Commander Azrael's request, a dart gun and two clips of tranquilizer darts for bringing Masraik out of his rampage."

The tech stopped for a moment and then shifted back and forth nervously. "This order came down from the highest levels of protocol command... they want you to bring along a 6 kg antimatter bomb. Should all else fail you are to use this bomb to destroy the base complex and any personnell on the premises. This is to be a last resort. To be used only if the base proves either impenetrable, the data unrecoverable, or other means of base destruction prove unfeasible. We do not want to reveal we have this level of destructive power yet. Do not resort to this unless absolutely necessary. Should the bomb be lost its destruction or recovery is to become your top priority."

The bomb was suprisingly small. About a foot or two in diamter. It was a mettalic orb, And weighed about 8kg, since it was essentially 6kg of antimatter, a magnetic bottle to isolate it, and a backup power supply designed to "catch" the antimatter if the magnetic bottle was disrupted. Azrael thought for a moment and grabbed the carrying backpack and loaded the bomb into it, slinging it onto his back. He finished his loadout, taking his new weapons, the rations and the traq gun. <I wonder why we're getting the rations? THey seem to be preparing us for an extended stay, but the extraction limit is twenty four hours. I don't like it.> But he didn't voice his protests. Angels often took a lot of field rations with them due to the incredibly amount of energy they could rapidly expend. This still seemed exessive.

Nodding he waited for everyone to finish loading up. Noticing that Masraik was still too small to actually wear most of his normal equipment he said "Mas, pick out your equipment and have a tech load it up, you can suite up in flight." Then, after Mas had his equipment picked out and everyone seemed settled he said "Allright, let's move out." He had several vials of the berserker serum for Masraik on him as well as enough weaponry to help take down an army. His new gloves and sword on, the warm energy of the solar radiation his armor emitted feeding him already. They entered the port, where their transport awaited.

Azrael was not suprised to see the top of the line Icharus class transport on the pad, it was a vertical take off supersonic jet capable of speeds in excess of mach four, as well as transporting up to fifteen people and equipment. It was capable of going without refueling for up to 48 hours. And was nearly completely radar invisible, as well as optically limited. It had a basic cloaking system that made it almost impossible to spot by any means. Visual, Thermal, or Radar.

"Load up, everyone." HE waited until Mas walked by when he stopped him and said "Mas, Do me a favor, open up your gill sets. I just want to make sure you didn't forget to divest yourself of any of that berserker serum before we head off. I have enough to keep you juiced if we need you to. But I would really rather you not have a vial accidentally break or something before I gave the order."

ooc: I'm getting that last vial Mas, It'd be just as well if the new docile you happened to just hand it over with an oops.

IC:
Once everyone was on the plane, the platform began to lift, raising them out of the heavily fortified bunker. There had never been a successful attmept to penetrate the shield wall, but the Protocols had always overengineered. They would not rely on any one level of defenses to protect them utterly. The plane took off. The whirring buzz of the engines lifting them straight up, and then slamming them into the acceleration harnesses. The sonic boom reverberated through the hull shortly, and then the flight smoothed out. Azrael settled back, it was going to be an hour or so before they reached their destination.

ooc: I'll get us to our destination tomorrow. That's enough for now, hope I didn't miss anything.

Masraik listened to the technician with angst, but happily accepted the ration bag and popped three tablets immediately. <This had better work quick!>

Mas proceeded to pick out his gear for the mission, his usual armor which still laid on the ground where it had fallen from his small body, the new quicksilver colored shield he hadn't had time to ask about, and his old shield just in case.

Feeling a bit rushed, and uneasy about the mass quantity of supplies they were taking for a 'covert operation,' Mas thought about questioning Azrael as he passed him going towards the jet. He was only interrupted as he began to say something by Azrael asking about his hidden vial. Handing it over with an apologetic "Sorry, I forgot!" Mas grunted inwardly to himself. <Bloody serum Nazi! Oh good, anger! Maybe I'm becoming myself again...>

On the ride, Mas not only ripped out of his new pants, but broke his safety harness as well as he accelerated to his normal size rather randomly. Changing back into his armor, his attention was again caught by the new weapon. Gathering it up as he sat back down in his seat, he rolled it over and over looking for anything new and special about it... other than its color, he was unable to see any differences. The inside and outside were the same texture as the old one, and it only reacted to his grip and biocord. Unimpressed, Mas tossed it against his old one and heard a loud clank!

Walking over to see what he broke, Mas was surprised to find that the new shield had adhered to his old one, on the interior where the flashy silver texture was hidden within the black of the original. Spinning it around in place, he noticed two things: The first was that the whip blade seemed to have spring loaded itself into the barrel of the blaster, and the handles had come together as one, and second there was a new handle next to that one, but on a verticle where he could hold onto the shield with both hands if he held it horizontally at his side. The only reason for him to need to do that would be if they added something with a bit more punch to the weapon...