Aberrant: War Journal - WJ2: Day of Days

[Heritage]

The Sky Over Bravo:

As she passes over the west side of the mountain, Emerald's glowing green tendrils snake down to the earth, plucking up various pieces of debris left by the shelling and loosely forming it into a concave shield about fifty feet in diameter and nearly ten feet thick. It is mostly formed out of shattered tree trunks and charred scraps of metal from the destroyed vehicles of the fallen, and the whole thing smokes and smolders from the recent explosions. As Emerald's improvised barrier looms up over the top of the mountain, the Cobras hovering nearby can only gape in awe as it clears the peak, followed by the gorgeous black girl, sheathed in her own glowing translucent armor, who appears to be controlling it. A grotesque Cobra, covered in writhing tentacles and apparently held aloft by large gaseous glands on his back, nearly drops his Bulldog as he stares at the bizarre spectacle.

“Who the f@ck are you, and where have you been my whole life? You know, I can lose the tentacles-”

His ill-timed attempt at flirting is cut off by a sudden realization.

“Incoming! Move that thing to intercept!”

The missiles are almost here! ::ohmy

[Heritage]

A Visit from the Neighbors:

"This is Rourke, of, uh...8th Battalion Headquarters. Location is clear and secure, Corporal. We sure could use that help you're offering. Standing by for transport."

The minute Epstein steps through the portal, Julia tears herself away from Specialist Hawthorne, runs pell-mell across the C&C and knocks the tiny Scout to the ground.

“Lynn! You found me, you found me!”

“Ooh, yes I did, and your knee found my solar plexus, little girl; please get off of Auntie Lynn.”

As she lowers her gear to the floor, Colby takes in the scorch marks and shattered glass with sad eyes.

“People did this, people we thought we knew. I am so scared and pissed and nauseated I don’t know what I want to do; well, except killing - I know I want to kill things.”

Chambers, Daniels and Mortimer set aside their burdens and greet the kids, shaking hands or hugging them as they see fit.

"Hmm, first question, where do you need the supplies? Second, where's the nearest @ss? I feel like kickin' butt."

Hawthorne steps over to Emma and gives her a spontaneous hug, and for about ten seconds the Intel spook is back home on Christmas day, opening presents and knowing she is loved; the nova counselor whispers in Emma’s ear as she sobs quietly.

“Thank you. Thank you for coming. I was so scared, and I couldn’t tell them!”

The captain strides into HQ, his bald black head shining with sweat and crisscrossed with purple sparks; he smiles and slings the laser over his shoulder as he approaches Rourke and thrusts out his hand.

“Captain Eugene Delacroix, 8th Infantry Battalion; I don’t know who the f@ck you are, but it’s damn good to meet you.”

[phoenix]

“Who the f@ck are you, and where have you been my whole life? You know, I can lose the tentacles-”

"Can it, Bunko."

A massive, flying water column vaguely resembling a big serpent rises to join the tentacled gasbag and Emerald.

"Thanks, Soldier!" it shouts to Emerald above the background noise. "Try and bring all that shit to bear; we Cobras will try and minimize the impact on your shield."

She takes off. Her watery body ripples as it blasts full-speed towards the incoming bogies...

[OOC: Sorry about the delay in posting, Heritage.]

[Heritage]

Into the Tunnel:

Now both laden with as much gear as they can carry, Vlad and Nomad enter the wide dark tunnel; it's about two miles long and fairly dark (not all the lanterns have been put back up yet after Vlad's second widening pass, and some are glowing dimly on their side) and still has quite a few evacuating Greens heading for the distant glow at the end, so the going is a bit slow, though people do step out of the way when the man made of stone comes lumbering through ::wink

When the two novas are about halfway through, a ripple of concerned muttering comes back towards them from the tunnel's terminus; something is not right up ahead. But like a giant game of telephone, no one is sure exactly what the truth is at this point; some say the valley has been taken over by sinister nova barking orders at the cringing refugees, others say it's a trap, and some even say that a massive orgy is taking place under the pines! No one stops moving forward, but there is a general sense of unease about what they will all find at the other end...

[Asbjørn]

At first, Hood looks a little confused at Vanderlay's monologue. Then his months of R&R come to his aid and the tales from a galaxy far, far away spring to mind. He smiles slightly, and lets her finish.

"'There is another.'"

"And how do we know it's still there..?" He asks, not wanting to hope for anything. "We'll have to talk more about this later, Kat. Now we have other problems. Oh.. and one more thing..." he winks at her, a teasing smile breaking up his ageless, weather beaten face.

"The last movie you and I have in common is 'Casablanca'." ::wink

Suddenly there's a shout from the edge of the impromptu 'camp'.

"Sir, we've got incoming! Some sort of, I don't know what!"

From somewhere up in the trees, an unnerving sound can be heard, like a chorus of chuckling little girls, and there's a glint of silver...

"Here we go...." Hood mutters under his breath, moving towards the sound. His trusty rifle is in his hand - more out of habit than anything else - and as he moves he quickly scans the treetops searching for the enemy.

[ProfPotts]

“Who the f@ck are you, and where have you been my whole life? You know, I can lose the tentacles-”

Despite the fact that something close to sheer terror is twisting Emerald's stomach into knots - Lord knows she's no front-line Cobra! - the flirting kicks in old responses which have long since become instinctual... ever since she started to grow curves back in the camps... A sweet & sexy smile playing on her lips she manages to sound almost light-hearted as she replies,

'Hey - nothing wrong with tentacles... as long as you know how to use...' ::sly

"Can it, Bunko."

Halle holds the rest of her comment as she recognises the presence of an officer (or, at least, someone who seems to be taking charge of the situation (much the the young private's relief).

"Thanks, Soldier!.. Try and bring all that shit to bear; we Cobras will try and minimize the impact on your shield."

Basic training... constant drilling... one of those things soldiers tend to dislike & complain about... until everything hits the fan... The more recent instincts driven home by Green drill instructors take their turn: Emerald snaps a smart salute,

'Sir, Yes, Sir!'

... & moves the 'umbrella' as directed.

“Incoming! Move that thing to intercept!”

As it turns out it's a really good thing that Emerald's acting mostly on instinct - even as she moves to interpose her barrier as best she can her more rational mind is screaming at her: you had your doubts this'd work on shells... those things are missiles, girl! You're toast!

::blink ::ohmy

[archer]

"Hmm, first question, where do you need the supplies? Second, where's the nearest @ss? I feel like kickin' butt.

Rourke smiles, glad to see another friendly face. He jerks a thumb towards the infirmary. "Supplies should go back there, to the medical area. As for kicking some rear...well, ma'am, I'm afraid that will have to wait just a little bit until we get everyone that ain't fighting take care of. If you've any food in those packs, there's some hungry kids back yonder."

A Visit from the Neighbors:

The minute Epstein steps through the portal, Julia tears herself away from Specialist Hawthorne, runs pell-mell across the C&C and knocks the tiny Scout to the ground.

“Lynn! You found me, you found me!”

“Ooh, yes I did, and your knee found my solar plexus, little girl; please get off of Auntie Lynn.”

As she lowers her gear to the floor, Colby takes in the scorch marks and shattered glass with sad eyes.

“People did this, people we thought we knew. I am so scared and pissed and nauseated I don’t know what I want to do; well, except killing - I know I want to kill things.”

Chambers, Daniels and Mortimer set aside their burdens and greet the kids, shaking hands or hugging them as they see fit.

Hawthorne steps over to Emma and gives her a spontaneous hug, and for about ten seconds the Intel spook is back home on Christmas day, opening presents and knowing she is loved; the nova counselor whispers in Emma’s ear as she sobs quietly.

“Thank you. Thank you for coming. I was so scared, and I couldn’t tell them!”

The captain strides into HQ, his bald black head shining with sweat and crisscrossed with purple sparks; he smiles and slings the laser over his shoulder as he approaches Rourke and thrusts out his hand.

“Captain Eugene Delacroix, 8th Infantry Battalion; I don’t know who the f@ck you are, but it’s damn good to meet you.”

Grinning behind that great beard at Julia's attack on Epstein, Rourke turns his attention to Delacroix. Grasping the other man's hand in response, he nods respectfully. "You can call me Rourke. Glad to have you here, Captain. So far I've got some kids and a few personnel back in the medical area; they're busy organizing the supplies here into packs we can take on the move. But we're low on packs or any real selection of carrying containers, so if your folks have brought any empty sacks, we'll be happy to fill them."

He looks past the Captain at the rest of the new arrivals. "Is this all of you?", he asks soberly.

[Alex Green]

Into the Tunnel:

When the two novas are about halfway through, a ripple of concerned muttering comes back towards them from the tunnel's terminus; something is not right up ahead. But like a giant game of telephone, no one is sure exactly what the truth is at this point...

Vlad says out loud, not shouting but making sure his voice will carry,

"Oh Please! I built this tunnel and it was so boring on the other end I came back to widen it. Boring is good, if it hadn't been boring I would have dug it somewhere else."

[Heritage]

8th Battalion Sleepover:

Grinning behind that great beard at Julia's attack on Epstein, Rourke turns his attention to Delacroix. Grasping the other man's hand in response, he nods respectfully. "You can call me Rourke. Glad to have you here, Captain. So far I've got some kids and a few personnel back in the medical area; they're busy organizing the supplies here into packs we can take on the move. But we're low on packs or any real selection of carrying containers, so if your folks have brought any empty sacks, we'll be happy to fill them."

He looks past the Captain at the rest of the new arrivals. "Is this all of you?", he asks soberly.

The captain nods his head sadly.

"Yeah, I'm afraid this is it. Well, actually...we left a man behind; tactical decision I hope I learn to live with, someday. And I think we've got some bags, ask Master Sgt Colby over there."

Delacroix sizes up Rourke, a confused frown on his face.

"So what's your story, Rourke? You ain't dressed like a Green, but you carry yourself like one; is there something-"

Hawthorne steps over to him, and the captain leans down as she rapidly whispers something in his ear, which makes him raise an eyebrow as he looks up at the scruffy stranger. After a moment, he stands and appraises Rourke anew.

"So, Doctor Hawthorne here says you have no knowledge of being part of the Green organization, but she also tells me you have proven to be of great service to us, in this our time of need."

He turns to take in the general bustle and indicates it with a nod.

"Obviously we can use every able-bodied person we can get, but you're of no use to me if we can't find a place for you in the military structure; otherwise everything breaks down, and we can't have that, not now."

With a wry grin, Delacroix unslings his laser and gently touches Rourke on both shoulders with it.

“By the power vested in me by the Kingdom of Greenland, I hereby dub thee Sergeant Rourke of 8th Battalion. Arise!”

The captain can no longer contain himself, and busts out laughing.

“Well, your ass is already standing, but you get the idea. So just to be clear, as a sergeant, you get to boss around him, him and him.”

He points to Chambers, Daniels and Mortimer, then points at Epstein on the floor still pinned under Julia.

“You can boss her around, too, but be nice about it, okay? Now that means Colby, Powers and me are all above you, so please do your best to follow our orders and not be an asshole, alright? You’re a non-com, which means it’s your job to hold this leaky ship together, and I know you’ll do a good job. Dr Hawthorne is a senior specialist, so she's the same rank as you; I want you to continue to work together, you seem like a pretty good team.”

The captain throws a conspiratorial look over his shoulder, and then leans in to impart one last word of advice.

“If you ever get stuck, and you don’t know what do to, just order someone below you to report – just say, ‘Report’. Nine times out of ten, they’ll tell you something you didn’t know, and it will usually give you an idea about what to do next.”

He shrugs.

“Hey, it works for me. Alright people, listen up! This hairy brother is Sgt Rourke; I want you to listen to him and treat him with the same respect you would any of your other NCOs, okay? So let’s get our shit together, and check up on any wounded; Epstein, put that girl away and grab your medkit, we might need it.”

[archer]

8th Battalion Sleepover:

The captain nods his head sadly.

"Yeah, I'm afraid this is it. Well, actually...we left a man behind; tactical decision I hope I learn to live with, someday. And I think we've got some bags, ask Master Sgt Colby over there."

Delacroix sizes up Rourke, a confused frown on his face.

"So what's your story, Rourke? You ain't dressed like a Green, but you carry yourself like one; is there something-"

Hawthorne steps over to him, and the captain leans down as she rapidly whispers something in his ear, which makes him raise an eyebrow as he looks up at the scruffy stranger. After a moment, he stands and appraises Rourke anew.

Rourke raised an eyebrow of his own...he wondered, more than idly, what Hawthorne was saying about him.

"So, Doctor Hawthorne here says you have no knowledge of being part of the Green organization, but she also tells me you have proven to be of great service to us, in this our time of need."

The big man blinks, unsure where this is heading.

He turns to take in the general bustle and indicates it with a nod.

"Obviously we can use every able-bodied person we can get, but you're of no use to me if we can't find a place for you in the military structure; otherwise everything breaks down, and we can't have that, not now."

"Uh...", he manages to get out, before Delacroix moves to unsling his weapon. ::unsure

With a wry grin, Delacroix unslings his laser and gently touches Rourke on both shoulders with it.

“By the power vested in me by the Kingdom of Greenland, I hereby dub thee Sergeant Rourke of 8th Battalion. Arise!”

The captain can no longer contain himself, and busts out laughing.

“Well, your ass is already standing, but you get the idea. So just to be clear, as a sergeant, you get to boss around him, him and him.”

He points to Chambers, Daniels and Mortimer, then points at Epstein on the floor still pinned under Julia.

*Sergeant Rourke of 8th BattalionSergeant Rourke of 8th BattalionSergeant Rourke of 8th BattalionSergeant Rourke of 8th BattalionSergeant Rourke of 8th BattalionSergeant Rourke of 8th Battalion*

Touching a hand to the side of his head, Rourke...wobbles a little, seeming to lose his balance ever so slightly for an instant. The captain's words continue, but he only hears them as a distant echo.

“You can boss her around, too, but be nice about it, okay? Now that means Colby, Powers and me are all above you, so please do your best to follow our orders and not be an asshole, alright? You’re a non-com, which means it’s your job to hold this leaky ship together, and I know you’ll do a good job. Dr Hawthorne is a senior specialist, so she's the same rank as you; I want you to continue to work together, you seem like a pretty good team.”

Coming back to himself, Rourke slowly shakes his head side to side, trying to focus on the man opposite.

The captain throws a conspiratorial look over his shoulder, and then leans in to impart one last word of advice.

“If you ever get stuck, and you don’t know what do to, just order someone below you to report – just say, ‘Report’. Nine times out of ten, they’ll tell you something you didn’t know, and it will usually give you an idea about what to do next.”

Managing a weak grin behind his beard in return, the newly appointed Sergeant nods. "Thanks for the tip."

He shrugs.

“Hey, it works for me. Alright people, listen up! This hairy brother is Sgt Rourke; I want you to listen to him and treat him with the same respect you would any of your other NCOs, okay? So let’s get our shit together, and check up on any wounded; Epstein, put that girl away and grab your medkit, we might need it.”

The world returned completely to normal as orders were given, and Rourke felt oddly comforted. Snapping to, he glanced around the room. "I need someone to get on the radio; establish and maintain contact with our tunnel diggers over at Bravo. I reckon we'll want an update on their situation. Let them know we've got working medical facilities here. Any volunteers?"

[tooho]

8th Battalion Sleepover

Hawthorne steps over to Emma and gives her a spontaneous hug, and for about ten seconds the Intel spook is back home on Christmas day, opening presents and knowing she is loved; the nova counselor whispers in Emma’s ear as she sobs quietly.

“Thank you. Thank you for coming. I was so scared, and I couldn’t tell them!”

Ignoring the lead weight settling on her stomache, Emma squeezes the Doctor. "Buck up, mate. We'll set this to rights. I've got your back." She pulls a black hankerchief from a side pocket and hands it to Hawthorne before turning her head to whipe her own. Fighting down the lump in her throat she nods to Roarke and starts walking from kid to kid saying hello and trying to do what she can to ease their minds.

Rourke smiles, glad to see another friendly face. He jerks a thumb towards the infirmary. "Supplies should go back there, to the medical area. As for kicking some rear...well, ma'am, I'm afraid that will have to wait just a little bit until we get everyone that ain't fighting take care of. If you've any food in those packs, there's some hungry kids back yonder."

"Sometimes the drudgery of day to day chores is kicking butt." Hiking her smile up a notch, her blue eyes roam the kids. "Is there someone who is hungry in here?" Digging in her bag, Emma jokingly tries to hide a bag of bright colored chocolates behind her back. "I'm sorry. I couldn't hear you, is someone hungry?"

After the tussling is over and she has the kids settled in a circle on the floor she'll pass out some of the coveted M&Ms from her personal supplies. "You know, we have one of the best cooks around here, kiddoes. Yall should ask her to cook you something." Smiling evilly, she ducks around Colby and Lynn, and heads for Roarke and the Captain. "Which isn't me!"

The world returned completely to normal as orders were given, and Rourke felt oddly comforted. Snapping to, he glanced around the room. "I need someone to get on the radio; establish and maintain contact with our tunnel diggers over at Bravo. I reckon we'll want an update on their situation. Let them know we've got working medical facilities here. Any volunteers?"

"I'm 2nd Lieut. Emma Majors, Intelligence. I'd love to get on the horn and start compiling the report on where the Greens sit. Maybe we can get a run on which bases are compromised and see who is going to need some aid and who can supply it." Her mouth turns down and her eyes darken. "I've got to make up for it somehow."

Struggling to battle her guilt and moreso her grief, she fingers her badge a bit before putting it back in her pocket. Tapping his shoulder, she grabs her gear minus any supplies she can spare. "Welcome to the Greens. If I'd known you were joining, I'da baked a cake!"

Heading off to the radio, she'll settle in. "Attention, Warpstation Bravo, 2nd Lieutenant Majors at 8th Battalion HQ. Please report your status and if you have wounded. Medical facilities are ready and waiting."

[Heritage]

"Here we go...." Hood mutters under his breath, moving towards the sound. His trusty rifle is in his hand - more out of habit than anything else - and as he moves he quickly scans the treetops searching for the enemy.

The disturbing chuckling noise gets louder, and now its source is visible: two gleaming silver spheres, roughly six feet in diameter, hover into view about twenty feet off the ground; they appear to be rotating at very high speed and be completely featureless. From one of the spheres comes a voice, clearly heavily modulated and utterly lacking in emotion or humanity.

--Attention Aberrants and human insurgents. In accordance with United Nations Security Council Resolution 4287, you are hereby ordered to drop your weapons and surrender peacefully. If you do not comply, we are authorized to use any means necessary, up to and including deadly force, to ensure your compliance. You have thirty seconds to comply--

The assembled Greens glance around nervously, but most of them appear to be looking to Hood for a sign. Dr Vanderlay sighs deeply and mutters under her breath.

"Well, we'll always have Paris."

[Grizzly]

X4 (nearly) Last man on board

At the base of the long shaft up to the Observation Post, Griff secures his bag and weapons (he grabed his chores before going out) tightly to his Armor. He looks to the lift, but that thing would be way to slow.

With a soft hum those two pods at his back break open and unfold into a pair of wings (activating Flight). There isn´t enough space for him to spread them fully but that´s not neccessary for him to get airborne.

With a jump upwarts he gets airborne and speeds up to the chamber at the top.

[Alex Green]

In the tunnel:

In blissful ignorance, Vlad continues down the tunnel.

[Heritage]

Surface-to-Surface Missile Pong:

As it turns out it's a really good thing that Emerald's acting mostly on instinct - even as she moves to interpose her barrier as best she can her more rational mind is screaming at her: you had your doubts this'd work on shells... those things are missiles, girl! You're toast!

::blink ::ohmy

Halle's green glowing eyes squint against the glare of the rising sun; the missiles are there, coming in fast. There is no way she can move her shield fast enough to take out both of them, but one is better than none. Her heart racing, she moves her crude TK-made shield to intercept the closer of the two - and it veers to the right! It must have some sort of highly-advanced sensors and computers to pull a stunt like that! ::ohmy

"We've got one shot!" Bunko hollers. "Don't give it time to react. I've got the other one!"

With a flick of her green energy tendrils, she tries to slide the barrier to block at the last possible minute-

BOOM!

Even fifty feet away, the impact hits Emerald like a slap, and she nearly bites her tongue off; her force field takes the worst of it, chunks of rock and metal hitting it like a giant shotgun blast or go whinging past her. Temporarily blinded by the flash, she blinks her eyes clear to see that fully one third of her makeshift shield is gone. After a moment, the young nova remembers there was a second missile; was it stopped or-

“Bunko took it out.”

To Halle’s left, another Cobra hovers into view; she’s absolutely stunning, wide beautiful wings beating slowly and a radiant face like an angel off the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel…if Michelangelo painted angels smoking cigars and toting massive machine guns.

“Or it took him out, I suppose you could say. This is f@cking nuts.”

Over her earpiece radio, Emerald picks up a message over the scrambled emergency channel, which apparently the other floating defenders also cock their heads to hear.

“This is Master Chief George Kelso of Warpstation Bravo; if there are any more Cobras up there, please get the f@ck out of here! I don’t know if there are any officers left in the base, but we are near full evac status; don’t waste you time trying to save this damn mountain, it’s not worth it. An escape tunnel was made that leads to the north, see if they need you up there. Godspeed and take care. Kelso out.”

[Centimane]

Surface-to-Surface Missile Pong:

Sgt. Lori 'Brick House' Yevtushenko was quite sure that she had to be the slowest flier in the entire 3rd SOB and if she wasn't, flying at just barely 25 mph (her maximum speed), she felt sorry for whoever was. So far House had accomplished precisely nothing in this little debacle, unless you counted being hit by an artillery shell as an accomplishment, and she'd been playing a constant game of catch-up ever since.

When Emerald had first approached them, House had (of course) been on the far side of the mountain. Like most everyone else, she had stopped for a moment to stare at the beautiful nova's massive, dome-shaped... uh, whatever that was, before noticing the incoming missiles.

Missiles!!

Still too far off to do anything, and cursing herself again for her slowness, she could only watch in a mixture of horror and fascination as Bunko sacrificed himself to stop one of the missiles and the newcomer managed to maneuver her massive make-shift shield into place to stop the other. As she fought back her tears Lori came to the conclusion, for probably the millionth time since her eruption, that she just wasn't cut out for this front line stuff and she wondered, also for the millionth time, how her teammates were able to handle it all so well.

“Bunko took it out.”

To Halle’s left, another Cobra hovers into view; she’s absolutely stunning, wide beautiful wings beating slowly and a radiant face like an angel off the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel…if Michelangelo painted angels smoking cigars and toting massive machine guns.

“Or it took him out, I suppose you could say. This is f@cking nuts.”

An outwardly cool, calm, and collected Sgt. 'Brick House' Yevtushenko came hovering up just in time to hear these words, and to agree completely.

House was dressed in the uniform of a cobra; black tee, camo pants, sturdy boots, and fingerless gloves. Over that was the usual harness with all the usual Cobra gear hanging off it. There was also a Scout's silenced 9 mm that hung from a shoulder strap, looking slightly out of place. And in one hand she carried her Bulldog. Not only did she appear completely indifferent to the weight of it all, she somewhow managed to make the ugly, bulky gear of a Cobra look more like the very latest military-inspired fashions coming off the runways of Paris. Actually, she looked like she'd just came off the runways of Paris.

Everything about House looked immaculate, her dark brown hair couldn't have looked more perfect as it hung from the tail she'd hastily pulled it into earlier, her clothes were spotless and fit her perfectly, even her nails looked freshly manicured. The smooth skin of her sculpted, high cheekbones possessed a healthy blush that appeared to be natural, the reddish color of her pillow-soft lips looked equally so, and her soft brown eyes were nicely set off by her thick black lashes. And every exposed section of her skin was shiny with some kind of fine glossy sheen, making it look like she glowed with some inner, reflective light. Anyone hovering close enough to House could actually feel warmth pouring off her in waves.

If Master Sergeant McDermott's beauty was angelic, Sergeant House's was literally godesslike (though definitely not in the pure, Judeo-Christian sense of the word ::sly ). If one were to attempt to put her beauty into more modern, mortal terms, a reasonably decent description would be that she looked "like the concentrated essence of the greatest Bolly and Hollywood Sex Symbols as seen through the lenses of the most potent, lust-stricken, love-filled, and flaw-removing dreams of their greatest admirers." Her body somehow combined the toned suppleness of a true athlete with all the prodigious curves of the most voluptious opnet porn star, and her face the innocence of the purest virgin with the confidence of an accomplished adulteress. If Alejandra held the title of most beautiful woman alive then Lorelai would probably take home the prize for being the sexiest.

Honestly? Lori found the whole deal about her looks to be kind of a drag... Sure it sounded great, but sometimes it felt like the day she'd erupted was the day she'd stopped being a person in most people's eyes. Of course, on the other hand there were some perks, like getting just about everything she needed from the T&S boys for the price of a smile and a wink (unless Kelso was on duty ::glare ).

"Ma'am.", she said, acknowledging McDermott, then to Emerald she said, "Thank you very much for your help. Are you alright?"

When the message came over her earpiece she looked to the winged Cobra. "What's the plan, ma'am?"

((OOC: her glossy skin is due to taint, and is the result of her DI power condensing small amounts of water vapor in the air as it comes in contact with her skin. This is balanced out by her extremely high body temperature (the waves of warmth mentioned) of 118.6 degrees Farenheit, which causes most of the condensation to evaporate again as soon as it forms. This makes her skin hot enough to be uncomfortable to the touch, but not hot enough to actually burn someone. Also, Sarah would know even if none of the other PCs would (though they might as well), that House has the Black Thumb aberration and never weighs less than slightly over a half a ton (and in battle, much, much more). This makes some people uncomfortable around her even though Black Thumb doesn't technically have any effect on larger lifeforms like humans (or novas).))

[Asbjørn]

The disturbing chuckling noise gets louder, and now its source is visible: two gleaming silver spheres, roughly six feet in diameter, hover into view about twenty feet off the ground; they appear to be rotating at very high speed and be completely featureless.

*Abwoon, they have those here too..?* Hood thinks to himself as he moves closer, noting the differences in size and details from the deadly automatons he's used to from his own world.

*Just my luck.. but they look older, slower. No reason to roll over and die just yet...*

From one of the spheres comes a voice, clearly heavily modulated and utterly lacking in emotion or humanity.

--Attention Aberrants and human insurgents.

As the inhuman voice fills the air Hood quietly starts to move, hearing the voice slow down as he speeds his own time up. He makes no sudden movements as he approaches the spinning spheres, getting as close as possible, hands spread in a non-threatening manner. His form flickers as if skipping a few moments here and there as he stops almost directly below the spheres, judging the distance.

In accordance with United Nations Security Council Resolution 4287, you are hereby ordered to drop your weapons and surrender peacefully.

As the idiot machine drones on, Hood briefly closes his eyes and focuses the quantum energies running through him, slowly building force....

If you do not comply, we are authorized to use any means necessary, up to and including deadly force, to ensure your compliance. You have thirty seconds to comply--

*Thirty seconds is a lifetime...* ::sly

The combat seasoned time manipulator almost chuckles as he looks up at the two spinning spheres. Then - if he's within range - he lets the built up energy free, reaching out to stop time around the two spheres, a look of intense concentration on his flickering face.

[OOC: If he needs to get directly between them to get them both in range, he'll use some of his Accelerated Time to move up a tree and leap between them. Either way he's maxing the power for area to get them both. If he can't possibly reach them both, he'll focus on the one not talking and take it out before the monologue is finished. Or try, anyway. ::smile ]

The assembled Greens glance around nervously, but most of them appear to be looking to Hood for a sign. Dr Vanderlay sighs deeply and mutters under her breath.

"Well, we'll always have Paris."

Hopefully, by the time Hood hears this, it will already be over...

[Heritage]

PONG!:

When the message came over her earpiece she looked to the winged Cobra. "What's the plan, ma'am?"

At the sight of Lorelai floating into view, MSgt Pauline 'Exterminating Angel" McDermott covers her eyes and groans, and her celestial aura flickers with irritaion. Her outfit is similar to Lorelai's, but a beautiful silver sword hangs from her gear harness.

"Well, this makes it official: we're the Flying Bimbo Squadron."

She shakes her head, causing her heavenly golden curls to bounce on her shoulders, then she shoots a direct glance at House.

"Okay, 'Shit House' - you might be sweet as syrup, but you're also slow as molasses in January."

Angel casts a wary eye over Emerald, rubbing her elegant chin thoughtfully.

"Miss Glowing Green Princess, do you think you could handle Sgt House here? She doesn't look it, but she weighs over half a ton."

Without waiting for an answer, the glorious Cobra turns gracefully in the air, then drops like an arrow and begins to swoop northwards, wings spread wide, shouting back with a voice as loud as thunder.

"Feel free to use her as a human shield! All of you, on my six!"

[BlueNinja]

"Attention, attention, calling Warpstation Bravo. This is Rourke, here with Dr. Hawthorne. We need personnel here. Send your wounded and any medical people you've got along with them. We have supplies to treat the wounded. Standing by to receive."

Judy hears the voice from the radio, but with hands full of equipment, she ignores it until she can't carry anymore. Shuffling back over to the t-port, she fires it up, dumping the bags in an ungainly pile. "Rourke, you've got supplies incoming. You need anything that doesn't have to last more than an hour or so, let me know, and I'll fabricate it. Otherwise, we're bugging out of here. We're about done." The supplies sent, she dashes back to the equipment room, loading up another set - and looking to see how many explosives are left. She'd prefer not to have to conjure up her own, but one way or another, the t-ports in Warpstation Bravo aren't going to survive the day - heck, they won't even survive the hour, more than likely. Almost makes me wonder if we should have come back from Ice Planet, she thinks to herself, then does a shake to throw off the gloom. "Come on, boys and girls, time to head out into the real world. Step up on the pads."

If everything goes according to plan, I'll be the last person to see this room in one piece. Her face quirks in a grin as she thinks it, the burn scars on her face making it more of a mockery than she realizes. I'll have to put that on my next evaluation report when I ask for a promotion.

Straightening to attention, Senior Specialist Kapriski salutes the poor sods her fellow Greens on the pad, and sends them out. She holds the salute until they've vanished, and then sags. A moment later, somewhere upwards of her own weight in C4 is being set in a dozen different places around the room, on a dozen separate timers.

((If there's not 80kg or so of explosives, then Matter Creation to make it. I think a five minute timer would be enough to allow Judy to get the hell out of Dodge on the t-ports, without risking the people still in the tunnel, but that can be adjusted upwards if ICly she would think differently.))

[Centimane]

PONG!:

At the sight of Lorelai floating into view, MSgt Pauline 'Exterminating Angel" McDermott covers her eyes and groans, and her celestial aura flickers with irritaion. Her outfit is similar to Lorelai's, but a beautiful silver sword hangs from her gear harness.

"Well, this makes it official: we're the Flying Bimbo Squadron."

Lori offered a polite, self-depreciating smile at McDermott's joke, but said nothing. Somehow she had a feeling that she was about to get insulted by a superior officer, which happened kind of a lot. All the time, actually.

She shakes her head, causing her heavenly golden curls to bounce on her shoulders, then she shoots a direct glance at House.

"Okay, 'Shit House' - you might be sweet as syrup, but you're also slow as molasses in January."

The blush of Lori's cheeks became more pronounced, and she looked down and away before straightening herself to attention as she hovered in the air and said, softly but very clearly "Ma'am! Yes, ma'am! Very sorry ma'am!"

Her look of embarrassment only served to make the gorgeous nova look very approachable and vulnerable which, if anything, just made her look more desireable than she had already. This effect usually left the superior officers who insulted her either infuriated or infatuated, but neither outcome was particularly pleasant for Sgt. House.

Angel casts a wary eye over Emerald, rubbing her elegant chin thoughtfully.

"Miss Glowing Green Princess, do you think you could handle Sgt House here? She doesn't look it, but she weighs over half a ton."

Without waiting for an answer, the glorious Cobra turns gracefully in the air, then drops like an arrow and begins to swoop northwards, wings spread wide, shouting back with a voice as loud as thunder.

"Feel free to use her as a human shield! All of you, on my six!"

As the Master Sergeant sped off, Lorelai, still blushing, looked sidelong at Emerald and said sheepishly, by way of explanation, "I used to be a Scout before I was transferred into her unit...."

Then she offered an adorable half-smile and shrugged unselfconsciously. This briefly set her not inconsiderable chest into a motion all its own, triggering a visual phenominon that was probably lethal to pubescent boys or people with heart conditions.

"She's actually pretty nice once you get to know her."

Since she was a terrible liar, this didn't come across as being at all convincing, but it was obvious that Lori was at least trying to say something nice.

Looking back at the gorgeous, green-clad Green, House said, "If you could give me a lift I'd really appreciate it! McDermott's right about how slow I am, I can't really get up past twenty-five miles an hour. ::blush Oh, and it's totally okay if you need to use me as a shield too. Sadly, it's one of my few real talents as a nova." She smiled a self-mocking smile as she finished, as if to say, "hey, what can you do?"

[Prince of Boredom]

The Nomad continues to trudge his way through the tunnel, loaded down with supplies and ignoring the rumours that float around amongst those in the tunnel about what is on the other side.

[phoenix]

"Can you carry her?"

Sarah, the massive Cobra hovers beside Emerald and House.

"I can get her if telekinesis is too weak, but we should get moving. You heard Kelso."

[This isn't me forgetting Sarah's reaction to Bunko's death -- she's a massive column of water, and her voice is steady. As far as anyone can tell, this is her reaction.]

[ProfPotts]

“Or it took him out, I suppose you could say. This is f@cking nuts.”

Still dazed from the blast Emerald keeps blinking in an effort to clear the spots from before her eyes as she mumbles in a stunned tone,

'... but he was going to show me what he could do with his tentacles...' ::blink

"Thank you very much for your help. Are you alright?"

Halle stares back at House, although whether she's actually registering much at the moment is a question for debate... ::unsure

"Miss Glowing Green Princess, do you think you could handle Sgt House here? She doesn't look it, but she weighs over half a ton."

'Handle?' Emerald asks, not really sure what the NCO is trying to say, 'What do you...'

"Feel free to use her as a human shield! All of you, on my six!"

'...um? What do you...?' Halle mumbles, obviously caught up in events which are moving too fast for her to handle. ::confused

"If you could give me a lift I'd really appreciate it! McDermott's right about how slow I am, I can't really get up past twenty-five miles an hour. Oh, and it's totally okay if you need to use me as a shield too. Sadly, it's one of my few real talents as a nova."

::blink

::blink

::blink

Obviously all the bad things Halle had heard about Cobras were true... insane, the lot of them...

"Can you carry her?... I can get her if telekinesis is too weak, but we should get moving. You heard Kelso."

'Carry..?' Slowly it begins to dawn on Emerald what they were all asking her, frowning ::angry she shakes her head, 'It's not a question of strength,' she replies, 'it's a question of speed - didn't you all see! If I could move things faster then Bunko wouldn't... he wouldn't...'

Shaking her head she flies off North as fast as she can [activating HyperFlight], trying to find the Greens exiting the tunnel - as well as hoping that none of the 'hard as nails' Cobras will see that she's crying... ::cry

[Centimane]

Sgt. House could tell immediately that her attempt at levity had gone over horribly.

'Carry..?' Slowly it begins to dawn on Emerald what they were all asking her, frowning she shakes her head, 'It's not a question of strength,' she replies, 'it's a question of speed - didn't you all see! If I could move things faster then Bunko wouldn't... he wouldn't...'

Shaking her head she flies off North as fast as she can [activating HyperFlight], trying to find the Greens exiting the tunnel - as well as hoping that none of the 'hard as nails' Cobras will see that she's crying... ::cry

"What? Hey! No, that's not..."

"It wasn't your fault...

House watched as the Private flew off in obvious emotional distress with a look of obvious concern on her own face. She had an idea how the girl felt, and she didn't exactly blame her for her reaction.

Stupid Lori! Stupid! The poor girl almost died just now, she's obviously just as shaken up over Bunko's death as you are, and what's your solution? You crack jokes about her using a person as a human shield (even if it is myself)! Real nice, girl!

*sigh*

Turning away from the rapidly dissappearing Emerald, House turned to the giant watery nova floating nearby and said, "Well Sgt., if your offer still stands I'd appreciate that ride." Looking back in Emerald's direction she added, "Looks like we have some catching up to do..."

[archer]

Judy hears the voice from the radio, but with hands full of equipment, she ignores it until she can't carry anymore. Shuffling back over to the t-port, she fires it up, dumping the bags in an ungainly pile. "Rourke, you've got supplies incoming. You need anything that doesn't have to last more than an hour or so, let me know, and I'll fabricate it. Otherwise, we're bugging out of here. We're about done."

Rourke glances over at his newly appointed comms specialist when he hears Kapriski's voice coming over the radio. "Confirm that transmission, let her know we're ready here. Then stay on the horn, keep trying for more information on anything that's happening out there."

He looks to the other Greens that have just been placed under his command. "Chambers, as soon as the folks from Bravo arrive, get a head count and see if there's anyone missing that shouldn't be. I don't want anyone left there if we can avoid it. Also see if you can get an update from them on the status of Vlad's tunnel. Daniels, you head to the infirmary and help out with readying supplies for evacuation. Epstein..." He leans down and tilts his head sideways to grin at the scout pinned under Julia. "You seem good with kids. Could you take Julia back to the infirmary, hang out with the kids and keep everything on track back there for me? I'm going to wait here for any new arrivals."

[phoenix]

House feels the temperature rise as the massive serpent of hissing hot water surrounds her -- then, like a pool of water being drained away, diminishes, and forms into the gorgeous image of Sarah Adoette.

Her soft, but muscular, arms wrap around House's shoulders, and they're off...

[Heritage]

Forward Observation Post 216, Rimrock (20 Klicks SW of Base X4)

Capt. Everett McQueen, C.O. of the 1st Reconnaissance, Surveillance and Target Acquisition Squadron, 14th Cavalry Regiment, is not happy. Inside his office, converted from an old bait and tackle shop, he stares out the window at the two black semis that showed up at 3 am this morning. The heavily armored trailers bristle with antennae, satellite dishes and sensor arrays, and are surrounded by a cordon of DAD tactical field agents in their identical Blackstar suits, faceless, inscrutable, and really f@cking annoying.

Rimrock was his op. Who did the hard work, monitoring those freaks up in the mountains for months, probing for weaknesses, watching his men end up killed or crippled, all to send back any shred of intel he could get his hands on? If they were making a move, he should have been in on it, at the very least consulted for his expertise; instead he gets a call at two-thirty in the f@cking morning telling him to have coffee ready for a bunch of Daddy’s Boys on their way from Yakima as part of Operation Trident, whatever the hell that was, and why didn’t he know what that was?

Stepping out from behind the old wooden desk, McQueen storms outside into the early morning chill and heads across the crude gravel road toward the command center, which was once a hardware store. As he goes, he nearly trips on one of the thick fiber-optic bundles that snakes between all the buildings of the commandeered town; weren’t all of them supposed to be buried - no, this was one of the new cables that got unloaded off the damn semis. The captain stops to briefly lay his hand along the side of his neck and look at his watch.

“Forgot to take my damn pills – goddamn it!”

McQueen is old school army, from a distinguished military family; a West Point grad at the top of his class, he's proud to lead the 1st RSTA. He knows the value of surveillance – hell, he’d written papers on the subject back in the academy that they put into textbooks. He ran a tight ship at Rimrock, and there were no complaints from upstairs, so why when something was going down on his turf was he totally locked out?

The furious captain bursts through the door of the C&C, and 1st Sgt Kevin Needleman snaps to his feet.

“Atten-hut!”

Most of the surveillance team leap out of the chairs at their respective workstations and crisply salute; the rest try to, but are so tangled up in their complicated HUD monitoring gear that they nearly fall over.

“At ease, men. What’s our status, Sergeant?”

Needleman, a trim athletic NCO with a reputation for acute brown-nosing, nods sharply and indicates the surveillance team with a wave of his digital clipboard.

“Sir, we’ve got our own drones out there now, since the boys from DC wouldn’t let us have a look at any of their equipment; looks like the Badgers are just about to break through all three indicated points of entry.”

McQueen shakes his head in irritation as he watches his boys piloting the squadron’s aerial surveillance drones, controlling speed, altitude and movement with their black powergloves.

“Where the hell did they get that intel from? Someone on the inside? Sure as hell wasn’t us. They’ve got a goddamn mole in the base we can’t even find, and they don’t even bother to tell us? Unbelievable!”

The rest of the town continues to hum with activity, as soldiers run between the various buildings and the fifteen Stryker armored combat vehicles, in various configurations, that surround the perimeter; this was going to be a long day.

(OOC: Havoc is now unleashed)

[Heritage]

X4: Top of the World, Ma!

At the base of the long shaft up to the Observation Post, Griff secures his bag and weapons (he grabed his chores before going out) tightly to his Armor. He looks to the lift, but that thing would be way to slow.

With a soft hum those two pods at his back break open and unfold into a pair of wings (activating Flight). There isn´t enough space for him to spread them fully but that´s not neccessary for him to get airborne.

With a jump upwarts he gets airborne and speeds up to the chamber at the top.

Griffin-bot steps through the disguised hatch at the top of Mt Aix, and the view is truly stunning, for two reasons. First, the natural beauty of being 2400 feet up in the middle of the Cascades is nearly enough to take one's breath away, especially the white-capped volcanic magnificence of Mount Ranier some thirty klicks to the west. And second, the fact that the entire Cascade range appears to be under attack; fires, explosions and plumes of smoke dot the mountains in all directions, and Griff can make out the shapes of various flying craft darting in and out of the valleys, firing on unseen targets with missiles, autocannons and lasers.

(OOC: views from the top of Mt. Aix: North, East, South and West)

[ConcreteDragon]

Croaker was happy to not have tunnel duty with the walking wounded. After all, teleporting with the bed ridden was easier than walking. And if Col. Jeb wanted to order him to accompany the more seriously wounded (in case they needed his 'Special Attention'), so much the better. Stuffing the last of the equipment into his sack, straightening his fatigues, zipping the flak vest, and tucking his black pony tail in his shirt, he walked over to the two nurses who were accompanying him to 8th Battalion HQ. "Gentlemen. When we get to the teleport pad, I want you to check and make sure the patients are stable before we go through. When we are ready, Neil takes the first group through, Bob takes the second, and I'll bring the last. After we get to the other side, I want you to check every one again while I check in with the CO over there and find out where to house the patients." Croaker makes a mental note of each and every one of the patients condition and then continues.

"Any questions? No? OK, lets move out."

Walking the wheelchairs and gurneys from the med bay to the T-pad, the 6'2" nova seemed to shrink with sadness as a tear came to his blue eyes. *Ten years. That's the longest I've ever stayed in one place in all my long life. Oh well, it was bound to end some time, it always does...*

Judy hears the voice from the radio, but with hands full of equipment, she ignores it until she can't carry anymore. Shuffling back over to the t-port, she fires it up, dumping the bags in an ungainly pile. "Rourke, you've got supplies incoming. You need anything that doesn't have to last more than an hour or so, let me know, and I'll fabricate it. Otherwise, we're bugging out of here. We're about done." The supplies sent, she dashes back to the equipment room, loading up another set - and looking to see how many explosives are left....."Come on, boys and girls, time to head out into the real world. Step up on the pads."

((occ: assuming that everything goes as planned, )) The medic takes one last look around to say goodbye to home.

Straightening to attention, Senior Specialist Kapriski salutes the poor sods her fellow Greens on the pad, and sends them out.

*Great, another Judas Goat for DAD...* Ashlom sautes back.

She holds the salute until they've vanished...

Upon reaching the other side of the warp, Croaker first glances over his charges, and then looks for the person with the bars. When he spots Captain Delacroix, he walks over to him. Saluting, the nova says "Sir, Specialist Asholom Schenk, Medical Corps. This is the last of the wounded from Bravo. The only person left is Senior Specialist Kapriski. I believe she was mining the Bravo Warp-station in an attempt to deny the enemy access to T-port pads.

Can you have someone show us the way to the infirmary so we can move the wounded there?"