Project Atlas [Inactive]

[Pattycakes]

Carter's cards had been shown, Mark thought. It was time to assess the results. Mark's bluff had worked. He had played his cards correctly and was now reaping the pot. The pot? Carter's trust. Mark never had the intention of apologizing to Xavier. However, giving off the intention of him struggling to accept wrong-doing made him appear vulnerable to Carter. Truth be told, he could care less for Xavier's feelings on the matter or if the behavior was "team supportive" or not. He would have the same thing regardless. Yet, this single act of offering his plate on the platter had gained him more trust with Carter than anything else. Carter likely still had some doubts of Mark, straying away from stating the often spoken "I trust you." Yet, Carter had come close. Very close.


Mark was not the forgiving type. Xavier had a debt to pay. He had challenged Mark's spot at the table, a challenge which would not go without repercussions. Xavier, and the others on the team, needed to remember who was the alpha. Xavier had done well today in the eyes of the brass, offending both the Colonel and Carter. However, for the others to get the message the results would have to be much more...public. All Xavier would require is a prod in the right direction at the right time. Then, there would be little doubt as to who deserved a spot at the table. To poke, though, Mark would have to be careful lest he break the new trust between Carter and himself. It was a line which Mark would have to perilously navigate.


Mark maintained his expression, giving no signs of the bluff. "Yes sir. Understood sir. I'll make sure they're ready for tomorrow." Seeing that Carter was done with the conversation, Mark gestured towards the group and stated, "By your leave, sir," waiting for Carter's gesture before rejoining the group.

 

[Erica]

Their conversation might have been going well, except that Vanburen seemed to have missed the point. When he promised to ensure the team was ready, Carter’s eyebrows twitched upward for a moment. He was still thinking like a second in command with a bunch of military recruits. In some ways, that was the situation: these were all new people to the Project, and they had a lot to learn. But they hadn’t signed up for basic training. When Vanburen asked for permission to rejoin the group, Carter nodded, but made sure he was close behind.


Carter grinned and clapped his hands to interrupt the lively discussion about Tyrannosauruses, gene splicing, and the modern staggering illusions of Photoshop. “Not a bad start. I trust that should we encounter a T-Rex, you’ll have a place to start. We wouldn’t have time to debate when facing a real T-Rex. But that’s why we’re going to talk through a few scenarios today: we’re going to walk before we run - even in simulation mode. So let’s talk another scenario. What about a team of mechs? Like it or not, they aren’t always in the hands of the good guys. What do you need to consider, and how would we approach them?”


It would continue like that for a while. He dismissed Snapshot soon after, ordering him to get some rest - and offering the same opportunity to Lady Jane. Those remaining discussed hostage situations, metas with element-based powers, the dangers of more subtle powers like computer control and telepathy, the need to stay on mission despite distractions, and what to do in situations where the lines were blurred: metas who seemingly have no control over their powers, child soldiers forced into protecting a target, mercenaries who could possibly be swayed. The group needed to understand the situations they might encounter, at least hypothetically. It wasn’t ever that black-and-white in the field, but some discussion before hand might prevent them from freezing up entirely.


He also gave them each a thin patch to put on their necks that would allow them to communicate with him subvocally. It worked much like similar electronic comm devices: in fact, that had been the inspiration. Yet his communication with them couldn’t be hacked. He had to be focused on the person attempting to respond, and only short messages would work, but it could help them in the field.


Eventually, he dismissed them for the afternoon to get settled and have some time to acclimate. Everyone was given IDs and instructions on how to access the facility. Those who were staying on site were shown their rooms and given the standard schedule. They would meet the next morning at 0800 in Conference Room C to review their first exercise.

 

[Azseth]

Dolos laid on the bed inside of his room in silence, mulling over a lot. First he thought back to the brief meeting with Xavier.





At first, Dolos hardly noticed Xavier near him, focusing inwardly instead. Eventually, he became aware of the man and nodded, finishing up another movement before stopping to face him. Initially he was very guarded but not hostile. The truth of the matter is that it wasn't that he didn't trust Xavier, it was that he didn't like him. He had an air of superiority around him and seemed judgmental and condescending. So Dolos was caught by surprise when Xavier began in what he assumed was an attempt at some haphazard attempt at a barely noticeable form of an apology...maybe.


Dolos listened and bit back some comments that he'd have spoken any other day. 'They' didn't get off on the wrong foot, not at all. Xavier did. But nothing Dolos had done merited the reaction that he got from the other man, except maybe being brought in wearing handcuffs.


The demeanor showed that Xavier was attempting...something. It may be just that he had never been apologetic before and wasn't good at it, but in truth, Dolos took that to mean that his heart wasn't in it. Then, he summed it up. "I have given my word..." Dolos would have respected Xavier coming here having seen the err of his ways. But he was here because someone else saw the err of his ways and most likely made it a point or a threat that he needed to "play nice" or simply "apologize" to make things better, more cohesive and smooth.


Fair enough, was all Dolos thought. Sometimes people focused so much on what a person said that they did not realize that more often, you learn more from the things they do not say. And Xavier hadn't said a lot.


"I hope you do not make me regret it either." And at that point, he looked at Xavier's outstretched hand, amused by the reaction. Yes, the trust issues were evident. However at the request, Dolos only smirked, reaching out to shake Xavier's hand with his own gloved one. "I'm sorry, but I was given explicit instructions to keep the gloves on. I'm sure you understand, orders and what not." He shook the hand firmly, looking into Xavier's eyes for a moment before releasing the grip and simply going about his routine.


As for apologizing to Corporal Tyler, he wouldn't. Dolos saw a strength in her and how she handled him, but he also deduced that she wasn't here, in an underground, top-secret facility, neck deep in a secret program, dealing with world altering situations because she was soft and needed to be coddled. She'd be fine, and if anything, he'd apologize to her on his own terms, in his own way. Not because of what Xavier felt was or was not right.


'Find your center' he thought to himself......


Dolos sat up slowly in his bed, flipping on the light. The room was metallic and gray and had no windows. Dull and empty. And fitting. He couldn't sleep. Whatever it was about his genetic makeup, Dolos slept for maybe an hour a night and was capable of going 3 days at times without sleep. There were many times that this was a blessing, giving him time to mull over things, plan out scenarios, or go over details. Today, it was more of a curse as he dwelled on being here and the overall deception. There was that, mixed with scenarios, mechs, and dinosaurs.


Overall, it was a very mentally taxing day.


With that, he got up and decided to go to the armory. The best thing for him to get out of the mental place he was in was to focus on a task and since tomorrow they'd be a great deal more active, he figured he'd do something to benefit himself. He made his way down a few corridors, nodding to several guards while waving his hands. The nod was a courtesy while the way was more to show them that he had his gloves on and was behaving like a good boy.


Eventually, he made his way to the training area and to the shooting facility. He moved over and grabbed an LWRC M6, a 6.68 predecessor to the M16 platform. There were several attachments to it, and he began by setting the rifle and attachments out on the table. He began his process of familiarizing himself with the weapon, it's parts and components, and then stripping and reassembling it.


This would go on for several hours before he even picked up the weapon and decided to fire.

 

[Erica]

Erica updated Project Atlas with a new update entry:


Mech info added

Information on mechs in this setting has been added to the end of the Role Play Overview section.

Read the rest of this update entry... 
Each person new to the facility found two dark navy uniforms awaiting him or her in quarters, either before bed for those who retired late or first thing in the morning for those who retired before 2000. Special considerations had been made: Lady Jane’s was cut to accommodate her unique physique, and although they assumed Ivan could replicate it as needed, the number of uniforms in his room represented double the total number of Ivans currently in play. The uniform bore no specific insignia, and the observant will have noted the same for the men and women around the facility: they all wore fatigues, civilian attire (usually in the case of contractors), or uniforms similar to these. There was no instruction as to whether they were expected to wear the uniforms: it was simply provided along with undergarments, socks, and boots. (Again, Janice’s were a customized version of the “barefoot shoes” designed for runners.)


This time they all knew where the room was, not to mention that they should acquire breakfast and any beverages before coming. Carter spent some time meeting with others in his office before heading for Conference Room C with the simulation plans. It was a standard drill, so he had modified it to avoid any familiarity either Marksman or Snapshot might have with the program and its optimal resolutions. In previous incarnations, the goal had been to disable the mechs as quickly as possible.


Carter arrived empty-handed just before 0800 and made note of each person’s time management abilities as he offered a perfunctory greeting and headed for the white board in the back of the room. Chameleon was noticeably absent from the table when he started. With a flick of a switch, the board slid into the wall to reveal a smart board behind it. Carter entered a passcode on the screen and spoke a few words into a system scanner to reveal a single folder on the smartboard desktop labeled with the date. He opened it then used a quick gesture to scatter photos of a single-story corporate building across the board. Strategically planted trees decorated a courtyard by the front doors. A small pond lay to the west, surrounded by a thicker line of trees. The sight of metal suits standing scattered intermittently across the grounds spoiled the idyllic corporate scene.


“Yesterday, we talked in generalities. Today, we’ll talk specifics. Most of you have no background in tactics or military operations. So we’ll start with an open planning session. I want to hear how you think, see what solutions you might devise that I haven’t thought of. We’ll plan for this mock mission together here, including what equipment you believe needed.” He wondered if Snapshot would think his text yesterday was the catalyst for the equipment discussion. If so, it only reinforced his premise that the man believed everyone else to be incompetent or an idiot. “Then we'll run it in the simulation room and see how we do.”


He turned to point at the pictures on the screen. “We are being called in because the locals have failed to contain a threat. An unknown individual or organization has gotten a hold of an indeterminate number of 2nd generation mechs - mechanized suits - and is holding a corporate office for a pharmaceutical company hostage. It has been four hours. Their goal is unknown and undeclared. In fact, there is a disturbing lack of clarity around the situation.


“What we do know: The corporation is focused on meta-suppressive tech and has been in the news lately for controversy surrounding its attempts to make meta vaccines for pregnant women.” He paused to observe each person’s reaction to the context of the exercise before he continued. Promising people a “normal” baby was a hot political topic; no one had succeeded so far, but that didn’t stop them from trying. “No threats to the corporation or to any individuals there stand out. The assumption is it’s related to their work, but there’s no proof of that. No claims at all, and - so far - no destruction beyond a few mechs.


“That’s the other reason we’re being pulled in.” He tapped the screen to display grainy photos of a destroyed mechanized suit lying on its side in front of a bench by the lake. It was smoking in the wake of what looked like serious firepower. The second and third photos showed another mech suit appearing directly behind it. “So far, it appears the suits are unmanned. The local police sent in small armed robots to assess the situation. One overzealous operator took out a mech that appeared to be isolated. These were the last images captured before it was destroyed.


“So we’re dealing with a dozen mechs outside the building, plus an indeterminate number of mechs inside. Forty eight employees unaccounted for and assumed inside: mostly clerical staff, but some research lab techs as well.” He pulled up a schematic of the building, which showed office space near the glass front of the building, with a secured lab near the center of the space. The back of the lab and two inner offices lit up in red, along with a corner office that had its blinds drawn in the photos. “These are the areas they expect the employees are being held based on thermal scans. The lab shows three other signatures outside of these areas.


“Why us and not a SWAT team? They’re working under the theory this is a pro-meta group, and therefore metas are probably involved. And if you look at the time stamp on the photos…” he tapped two of the robot’s captured photos to enlarge the timestamps: the first one featuring the second mech and the one prior. “This mech appeared in previously unoccupied space within 1.5 seconds.”


He paused. “I have some ideas of how to proceed with this team for this mission, but I want to hear yours.” One side of his mouth twitched upwards. “Who wants to start?”

 

[Mitheral]

Xavier listened and found himself having to force a neutral composure all over again. This was quite an assignment for a group of untrained metahumans, half of them civilians with no training at all. But maybe some basic ideas would dawn on them. For the moment he would stick to the obvious - his own role.


The fact that these were Mk 2’s and not Mark 1’s did raise a slight smile. He’d faced twos, but just a few. His trainers hadn’t been willing to let him risk his health.


He spoke up. “I hear a lot of words like assume, assumption, appears, unaccounted for … They’ve been there for four hours but made no demands. That begs the question: what HAVE they been doing? The situation calls for a field recon. My specialty. A commander does need good intel to make good tactical decisions. Several questions come to mind though. “First is: what role will you and Agent Vanburen play here. Active or Observer? Second: are we to assume that rescue is the priority? Or do we have a different primary objective? Third: What are the rules of engagement?”

 

[Pattycakes]

Mark sat back in his chair in the conference room. Mechs were one area of technology he disliked. Mainly because he relatively weak to mechs. There wasn't any powers that he could absorb.


Military tactics was one of the areas Mark genuinely enjoyed. When he had worked in freelance as the Metahunter, something he still hadn't told the team about, he had ran into many hostage situations during his days. It was something he was inherently familiar with. However, he wasn't concerned with his knowledge, but the knowledge of the rest of team. He was worried to see just how untrained the rest of the team was.


As Carter broke down the events more into details, Mark took out his notepad and composed his initial thoughts on the situation. A few seconds later, he finished writing. After listening to Xavier, Mark added his own thoughts to the conversation.


"To my knowledge, I am active on this. Sarge has not told me otherwise." He glanced for a moment at Carter to make sure before continuing, "As for objectives, that should be obvious: rescue the hostages. Now, I am in agreement with you Xavier in that intelligence is the first priority. There's far too many unknowns for us to even think about a specific plan of attack. However, before we even send boots on the ground there's some things we should address. So, first things first. Has any attempt been made to contact the enemy?" He explained, "In any hostage situation, it's critical to understand the hostage taker. Failure to do so and we could make a mistake resulting in the deaths of every one of them." Normally, he wouldn't take the time to add such an explanation in, but this was a room comprised of both civilian and military. Thus, better to explain, he thought, than have confusion.


He continued, "After that, do we have personnel files on the staff? Any of them particular HVTs? Also, I'm not the strongest with how unmanned mechs work, but if they are unmanned might we want to consult Live Wire or someone else tech gifted? If we can find a way to shut down the mechs without destroying them that would reduce the burden of this task significantly. Finally, if this was a real scenario I'd recommend we already have a team on standby ready to blast in if necessary. If whoever these people are decide to make a move, we don't want to be caught with our pants down."

 

[sharlene79]

Janice had forced herself to stay up along with the rest of the team the previous day. And she could tell that being ordered to bed rest hadn’t sat well with Xavier. It hadn’t sat well with her either. But it probably was for the best.


Despite everyone expectations of hangovers, she awoke the next morning disgustingly cheerful and rambunction. She awoke at 0530, chipper as could be. The sight of the uniforms made her nose wrinkle, but she figured they would at least be more durable than her civilian clothes.


Despite having never actually seen the movie before she was quoting the wake up scene from Aliens as she had entered the Mess Hall. And as she had for both lunch and dinner she stacked her plate high as she could with fruits and vegetable, plus a little protein. She lacked a regular time piece such as a watch, so she kept having to consult her cell phone. When 0700 rolled around she grabbed a couple cups of hot tea and made her way over - carrying a few pieces of fruit for the road.


+++++++++++


As the Sergeant droned on about the mission Janice found herself more and more lost. She had seen a few mechs. She had even experienced a couple in action. Of course those may have been a civilian model. Then again, she had found herself in an interrogation cell engaged in pleasantries with MI-6. Translation: they had assumed she was one of the terrorists and wanted to squeeze her for everything they could.


But an army of mechs? In southern Africa noone could even afford that sort of thing.


After listening to Xavier and Mark speak up, she decided to sum the situation in her usual way. Truth to tell she had no real useful thoughts. And even the idea of entering a battlefield like this scared the crap out of her.





“Sounds like the 3 R’s - Recon, Rescue and ‘Radication.” She gave a weak smile, then furled her brow. “If I could get past the initial sentries, I am pretty damned good at sneaking. But I’m not really up on advanced security. And I am guessing a pharmaceuticals plant like that would have some decent stuff. Maybe not the best idea. And I don’t really know how good that armor is. Weak points would be the powercells I assume. But why not just throw paintball grenades at them - real ones? Blind their sensors. If they are remotely guided …


“Oh wait, if they are pro-meta. Well correct me if I am wrong, but there just aren’t a zillion metas running around. And if they aren’t manning the mechs, then how are they controlling so many? Me thinks some form of cyber meta. Maybe we don’t have to destroy the mechs, just knock out their ability to receive orders? Then we take out any left. I am thinking it would get pretty taxing for one meta to puppet a dozen mechs - except as slaved to one task. If we also knocked out primary and backup power to the plant, that would also knock out security and any mech control systems they brought with them.


“Of course, that doesn’t help the hostage. I’m still a little stumped there.”

 

[Erica]

The questions and dialogue reflected the personalities he had witnessed so far. Snapshot was to-the-point and focused on gathering more information. Marksman thought of tactics first, making some assumptions. Carter nodded when the man indicated he would be active on the mission, but otherwise let them talk - he would answer questions when a lull availed itself. Lady Jane proved very astute in some areas, and ignorant in others, but offered some excellent thoughts.


When she said she was stumped, he had a chance to answer the preliminary questions.


He looked at Janice, “A quick correction, Lady Jane: metas aren’t common. Publicly available records have less than a hundred confirmed metas. Ours have more, but still less than five hundred, and the latest estimates say that there are approximately five to ten thousand of us in the world, with varying levels of power. But remember that pro-meta groups aren’t just comprised of metas. There are many ‘normal’ human beings who don’t like the idea of meta suppression or mucking with genes.


Then he turned to Xavier, “Marksman is active. I will be observing this exercise. Our primary objective is rescue of the hostages, with diffusing the threat an extremely close second. As with any op, you may have to make a call in the field: since there are so many unknowns, the situation may change. Lethal force is authorized, but only as a last resort. The goal is to capture those responsible if possible.


He looked to Marksman. “We have personnel files, but no one stands out as a HVT. This is a secondary facility for a large corporation. There is a lab, but no records of anything beyond their standard research that would make the building or any individual a target. There are no reported metas on staff, although two have family members who are metahumans: a son and an uncle.


“No contact has originated from inside the building, and attempts to communicate with those inside have failed. Preliminary attempts to reach them via phone went unanswered, and now the calls won’t go through at all. Whoever is inside doesn’t seem to want to talk.”


He looked back at Janice. “You and Marksman seem to be thinking along the same lines: shut down the mechs.” He turned back to the screen and opened up a new file with specs on the mechs in question. The area at the small of the back lit up in blue. “Originally designed as a manned suit, these have a power cell at the small of the back, with reinforced armor surrounding it. There is space for a back-up cell, but discerning whether an individual unit has a second power cell installed requires weighing the unit or looking inside.” He touched the screen to reveal a picture of a bisected unit, showing the space where the pilot would typically stand. In this image, the area where the neck would normally be had a series of wires and computer components installed, plugged into the head, arms and legs through wires. “The standard modification to convert these to unmanned units installs a remote control unit inside the body of the unit. Control varies from rudimentary remote control units with switches to - more commonly - software that can be operated within range. That range varies, but is typically within 300 yards.”


He looked at the others who hadn’t spoken yet. “So… I’ve heard that Snapshot should get us some intel, we should cut off the mechs outside or disable them, and the big question of what to do inside still remains. What else?”

 

[Azseth]

Dolos sat and stared at the screens, almost absentmindedly, his eyes glazed over. He took time to listen to the three team members, then Carter as he went over information. Something wasn't right in his gut. Something wasn't making sense, or some piece of the puzzle didn't fit.


"Well, there is one concrete threat, but there is potentially another." He cocked his head to the side as he spoke, but his words seemed to be more to himself than anyone else as he mulled over things out loud.


"The first priority, getting the people out alive and unharmed. Next priority, neutralizing the force inside, hopefully to a degree that information can be extracted from them. If not, sure, bring the building down on them. Blah blah, so on and so forth."


He took a deep breath and sat forward in his chair. "When I used to do high profile jobs, or what you people called robbing federal banks or facilities, nuance really, we'd create diversions. We'd put fake explosive devices near post offices, or courthouses and call in fake terrorist threats. Things like that. Get everyone looking in one direction and moving their forces in that direction, then we'd hit somewhere else."


He took a second and continued. "The mechs may be insignificant to a degree in that, they may be for show. How do you get EVERYONE looking THERE? Not with just hostages. Not with just mechs. But mechs, holding hostages at a facility associated with metahumans. Now everyone is looking THERE. Where aren't you looking though?"


He shook away the glaze in his eyes and began to look around, his tone indicating he was mentally here in the room now. "So the questions to be asked, besides the obvious one? What else is going on today? What other high value persons are in the area but unrelated to this facility? Diplomats, politicians, highly public advocates of some cause or the other? Is today's date an anniversary of something important?"


He took a moment to glance at the pictures, mainly the one that indicated a mech appearing within the course of under 2 seconds. "And, what if the amount of mechs they have are not real, and it's just a deception? What if they're some form of holographic copy, either from some metahuman power, or some simple screen?"


"I also say we go in sooner than later. Most situations, we...Well, a criminal knows what you are going to do. They know protocols and limitations. They know you're going to attempt to do A, B, C and then be out before D. Deceive them. Tell them in 10 minutes, someone is going to come in with a phone to be able to talk. Go in on the 8th minute. They will not be prepared. Then, if what's going on inside IS all that's going on, all the better. If not, the sooner you get information from inside, the sooner you can work against what else is going on."


"What I am NOT saying is how to go ahead and get the hostages out. Still thinking on that," he said with an amused smile, sitting back in the seat as he thought more on things.


"Could we thermite the outside of where they are being held and extract like that? And what about EMP? Could we use a charge to disable the mechs and go in quickly at that point? I KNOW you can magic up an EMP in some form. You guys have all the cool toys. So thermite is, well, quiet for the most part if used right," he leaned over to Janice and whispered "or so I've heard."


"Anyway, it's quiet, so we could all but melt through a section of wall, get in, trigger a controlled EMP and move in? Maybe?"

 

[Mitheral]

Xavier shook his head. “If this were a real world thing, I’d agree. But A: You typically don’t commit this many forces to a fake threat. Recon may prove otherwise. Always keep an open mind. B: This IS just a simulation set in a limited environment. There’s only so much a recon can uncover. If they didn’t think of it I won’t find it. It may be beyond the scope of the exercise.”


“It sounds as if the priority is human life. Second priority is the terrorists. third is the research. Post mission will mean debriefing the hostages and looking for any tampering with the drugs or the procedures themselves. Four hours. It will be interesting to discover what they have been doing in the past four hours. And Sergeant, if we are going to make this a fair recon, I am going to consider no barriers where the terrorists are concerned. I will follow the trail wherever it leads.”


“Agent Vanburen, are you going to want me to take any actions beyond recon? If so, I need to make some preparations. I probably should anyways. I am going to assume ⅔ of the mechs elsewhere in reserve. So … about 100 pounds of plastique should do it for those.” He smiled. “Simulated of course. I could just make thermite from on hand supplies, but that would be the real stuff - and I think the people who pay for our mock facility would object. Same with the EMP, I could build a microwave weapon that would do the trick. But it would fry a lot more than that - and probably be frowned on by the UN. Cheap and really easy to build. Terrorist weapon of the future.” He pointed upwards with a grin. “Uhm .. a 100 foot coil of nylon rope, a few tubes of caulk, a few flares, an MRE or two … my standard jump pack … plenty of O2 and a few other odds and ends. The rest the terrorists probably brought with them. I’ll just use their gear if needed.


“Really, the more realistic this is, the easier it will be.”

 

[eheu]

Spoiler

Ivan couldn’t help but toy around with the items and devices he had been issued before doing anything as instructed.


Ivan sat on the bed in his assigned quarters; flipping the ID and communication badge and various items around in his palms. He considered his first day at Atlas was rather satisfactory. A fair amount of things happened - although to be honest, most of which Ivan couldn’t claim that he followed. A lot of information was provided, though, similarly, he was uncertain if he even grasped half of what was said.


Atlas was a really, really complicated place.


But at least - he thought - he didn’t get his back broken by some ninja master (perhaps?), he hadn’t gotten kicked out of the project, and at the end of the day, the living quarters was kinda comfortable really. Ivan smiled, falling back into his bed, wondering what to do with the redundant supply of uniforms present in his wardrobe.


* * * * *


The following day, Ivan’s alarm clock malfunctioned, but he woke up early enough not to have noticed it.

0800 | Conference Room C | ATLAS quarters


Ivan sunk back in his chair - or, at least as far back as the standard chairs would allow, which, to say, was far less satisfactory than the old office chair back at home would allow. He still wore much the same outfit as he did the day prior, leaving all six navy suits untouched back at the quarters, simply because it...felt more natural? Either that or he was simply lazy. Nevertheless, he still felt rather happy messing around as he listened to all the other team members participate in the simulation exercise.


Happier, at least, than he would have been if he actually tried to go along with them. The scene was a bit intimidating, with ideas and perspectives just flowing out from everyone else, all of which, he presumed, backed up by years of preparation and research and field experience. Ivan almost started to wonder if he really was in this thing - this project, something assembled to react to threats, things much bigger and more serious than he had ever been able to handle. He wondered if he was really prepared - which, he later decided, was an useless question, as he was obviously not.


The thing now, then, would be to force himself to be prepared.


Ivan tried to actually put his thought onto the ongoing discussion, to actually consider each and every of the proposals. Gather information. Caution and stability are important in the carrying out of operations, especially in the case of hostages being part of the scene. Attempt to rescue. Shut down the mechs. Dolos, the man who it seemed that all the other people had trouble trying to actually trust, provided a different perspective, suggesting the consideration of threats existent, with the mechs and hostage scenario being potentially a mere distraction - something Ivan’d never considered before.


And there was no way he was going to come up with anything more insightful.


That was, at least, until the Sergeant mentioned remote control.


“Wait, remote control?”


“Excuse me.” Ivan said, with great enthusiasm, bouncing upwards from his chair, having to also grab onto the desk to pull himself forward and prevent himself from toppling onto his back. “The mechs are, what, that same sort you folks - um - ” he gestured emptily in the air, representing his failure to come up with a correct term, “-the sort you folks use in wars and stuff, right? Big heavy metallic ugly humanoid-robot-ish and stuff?”


He smiled weakly before he carried on, “EMP is way cool. Yeah. We could manage that. But yeah, in the case that you don’t want to accidentally fry anything else - if the mechs are interconnected in any way at all - any signals transmitting between one mech and another and one mech to an operator - it’d make it much easier. Well um, not exactly as easy as just blowing things up, but um - ”


Ivan once again retorted to his meaningless gestures. He thought over it again - and it seemed plausible. As far as Ivan’s knowledge told him, the signals used to control the mechs won’t be so hard to crack. And he had always boasted that he could hack just about anything if it has a battery in it, and bits flowing in from one end and out from another. And if it worked, it would work just as well as an EMP or any sort of microwave weapon - possibly even better if he had luck. And then there were the perks of not frying every other electronic device in range, and the option to not let the enemy know that they’ve lost their weapons - who knows, that might just come in handy in some way.


“How hard will it be for you to get me one of those remote controls they’re using, and to keep thing within operation range for a couple of min-” it'd probably take longer than a couple of minutes, Ivan corrected himself- " -um, like, a while?"

 

[Erica]

If nothing else, he wasn’t stuck with a stupid team. He listened as Dolos provided a criminal’s perspective - and offered an interesting twist that might apply in a different simulation. They would be using the largest simulation room downstairs, but it wasn’t large enough to do a multi-location set-up. They were giving the organization a lot of credit, which was a double-edged sword. When they saw the limitations of current technology, they might be disappointed.


At least Xavier brought up using simulated explosives before he had to. The exercise would involve a large number of actual mechs, and somehow he suspected the Colonel and General wouldn’t appreciate his team destroying them for learning purposes. The hostages would largely be played by holograms, but Atlas staff would portraying the key players. Some were more into the scenario than others, and unfortunately the difference between a holographic hostage and a living breathing person playing a hostage would provide clues.


He was about to explain some of the limitations of the exercise when Ivan chimed in. Carter laughed inwardly as the man bounced in his chair. Outwardly, he just raised an eyebrow. Ivan’s excitement was palpable, but it was also a little off center. He tried to refocus him. “I said they can be operated by remote control, but more often they are controlled via software.” He looked at the rest of the group, since Vanburen wasn’t immediately answering Snapshot’s question about restricting him to recon. “Professor Schrodinger here possesses more than multiple personalities. He’s also a hacker.” He looked at Ivan. “I’m assuming you’re offering to work that angle to gain control over the mech threat.” Without waiting for confirmation, he turned to the others.


“All right. Your plan isn’t that far from what I would have proposed.” He motioned to Xavier. “Snapshot’s specialty is recon and intelligence gathering, and this scenario definitely suffers from a deficit of actionable intel. He’ll go in first, get information and bring it back to Marksman.” He nodded to Ivan again. “Meanwhile, Professor Schrodinger will be given as much access to the network as the locals currently have, to see if he can determine how the mechs are being controlled.” He looked at the larger group. “Your initial plan seems to focus on disabling the mechs outside - if possible, without alerting those inside - then blasting a way into the building to get the hostages out.”


“You’ll all be issued standard communication devices, and seem to have deferred to Vanburen as the senior Agent. He’ll coordinate as needed. I’ll observe and be on hand should things go sideways.” He paused to look over everyone to ensure there were no last-minute additions.


“This is just an exercise, so there are limitations.” He looked at Xavier. “Obviously you are capable of researching true terrorists’ history like no other. The perpetrators in our scenario are being played by Atlas soldiers and personnel. I’ll share with you that the simulation started approximately two hours ago, so going beyond that timeframe is beyond the parameters of today’s exercise.” He looked at the others. “The weapons and ‘explosives’ you will use are tied to the simulation room, so inside there, you will see the effects - but not feel them. Same with your targets, although effects will be played out by all players.” He looked at Pulse and Lady Jane. “For hand-to-hand, pull lethal attacks, but otherwise, play it out.


“If no one has any other questions, we’ll gather equipment and get started.”

 

[Alterius]

Cedric had been listening to the whole conversation not saying much due to his lack of knowledge in the subject. Also because he lacked the focus his mind was on the package he had received the night before he had ordered a shirt and a pair of pants that matched the same style of his gloves. He had them in a bookbag that rested against his chair. He was glad that he was able to run home and pick it up. Happier still to spend the night at his home he didn't really want to stay in the facility knowing he hated underground places, and getting here this morning on time and in good condition gave him a great reason not to. He put those thoughts to the side as he realised the meeting was coming to an end


Cedric nodded in response to Carters suggestion remembering that it was only training he calmed down noticing he was more excited about the simulation than he probably should be. He stood up still itching to actually start the damn thing. He followed the group slinging his bag onto his back waiting to see just what type of life he has thrown himself into.


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[Erica]

The sergeant led the group downstairs to the simulation area. They would be using the largest simulation room this morning, and a several Atlas staff members had been pulled in for the exercise. No one seemed to have picked up on the odd footage following the mech’s destruction. He could have pointed it out - and if this were a real scenario, he would have - but it was better to see how the group would deal with it. The team had already come up with a possible solution: the question was whether they would implement it successfully.


A staging area beside the simulation room held weapons, explosives, and other equipment: all designed to work with the simulation tech. Once the team was outfitted, he led them to the simulation room next door. What would ordinarily look like a bare warehouse was transformed into a clear late winter day by holographic projections. He looked at the group, focusing on Lady Jane in particular. “Keep in mind that sky is illusion, too… the ceiling’s only nine feet in here, so be careful not to jump too high and get a concussion.”


He led them to a police line that had been formed on the far side of the staff parking lot. In the real world, this might have been further away from the building, but the size of the simulation room had its restrictions. In addition to cruisers and a couple of SWAT vans, two communications vans sat on the far side of the parking lot. A tall man with dark hair and tan skin in a police uniform shook Sergeant Carter’s hand and offered his name - Commander Arana - before looking over the team with a cold and somewhat suspicious look. “I sure hope your team can diffuse this. The terrorists inside have refused all contact beyond an initial email from inside the building that cut power would mean hostage deaths. We’re working with the pharma company to get access to their network - but it’s been slow going. They seem to have locked us out.” He motioned to the communication vans.


He looked to Carter. “So who am I coordinating with?”


Carter nodded and said, “Me.” He looked to Vanburen, folding his arms over his chest. “Marksman here is leading the team.” He folded his arms over his chest, and looked to Vanburen and the others. “Okay, team. Showtime.”

 

[Mitheral]

Xavier tried not to look bored. He had had to use his mask to avoid being chewed out - yet again - by one of his CO’s. Besides, the project was classified. That meant their faces shouldn’t be shown off to civilians - and he considered SWAT to be civilians - talented and trained civilians, but civilians nonetheless. And he had been out watched SWAT teams in action in the area before - strictly an observer. Oh, he would probably have been chewed out by someone if they had gotten wind of it, but there was really no risk. He watched from the safety of Time. Well, with a couple exceptions where he had interfered enough to save a couple lives of bystanders of cops.


The first time he had seen a man shot to death had not gone completely unnoticed back at the Project. It had been not been the first time since his father’s death. There had been others. But he had been more prepared for those. Those were historical. He was just quieter than usual, a little distracted, but beyond that, he never spoke of it.


He waited as patiently as he could until Vanburen gave the nod or “pep talk” that would send him on his scouting run. Part of him wanted to take one of his superiors with him. He also wanted to take various members of the team as well - especially Ivan. But that wasn’t going to happen on the first trip in.


For his first trip in he rigged up for a long haul - just in case - mostly 22 oz O2 bottles. He smiled as soon as he got the nod and flipped a coin. It stopped in mid air. He reminded himself to catch it later. The coin hung there in mid air. with a smirk he grabbed it and put it away. Then he started walking into the lion’s den - slowly, taking his time. Time - after all - was on his side. He made his way to the first mech and opened up the access port to one of the suits and inspected the power cell leads and space available for a much smaller C4 charge. He got a good video of the mech, the power souce up close and the antennae. Then he walked several times around the mech getting imagery head to toe.


Then he grinned, Any Dufus could flatten a pound of C4 into that area. he wouldn’t even need to be fancy. But to make the cleanup later simpler he did plan to reduce the mass to about ¼ pound plus the smoke charge.


Of course he had no plans to use the charges. No … that was just a backup plan. Six channels - plus one very special set of charges with a proximity AND a remote detonator set up. He had considered removing the batteries - until he realized the mass would be almost impossible to remove. They had to weigh at least 10 pounds. That would be like trying to move 500 pounds. He was strong, but that was pushing it for something in a tight area like a powercell in its slot.


He went about the outside first, checking each mech to see if the unit had a human in it or not. He was a little offended and annoyed when he began to discover that some of the mech were holograms. He hated cheap simulations with a passion. He could deal with the real thing easier than fake. But fine. He’d handle THOSE himself. He hadn’t planned on it. And the Sergeant would probably chew him out for that later. He grinned a little. This was getting to be a habit. He noted which were real and which were not in his notebook.


He caught his breath for a moment and moved on. He climbed a tree to get up up on top of the building to inspect there - only to remember what Carter had said about the 9 foot ceiling. Chastising himself he slid back down. Not planning to make multiple trips for his scouting run, he slid back and forth while he recorded the entire period since 0800, the official exercise start time in all directions around the building.


To get into the building he simply walked up and waited while time rolled backwards until the door was opened by someone - anyone. He stepped in and allowed time to return to the present. Once inside the building he made his rounds, taking more HD video. He was especially careful to get good footage of the real hostages and the ‘terrorists’ just on the offhand chance that Dolos could use the images. Xavier had considered a scenario where he exchanged Dolos with one of the hostages.


Next he went to the computers and recorded events at the monitors for the entire period. He did the same with each location where hostages were kept and in each of the other rooms sliding back and forth in time. That pretty much covered the events as they had occurred for the entire period. All they had to do was splice the view and sync up the times to get a 3d map of events over the two hours.


Finally he repeated the procedure of sliding back and forth in time to follow the movements of all real employees, the terrorists - and most especially the “teleporting” mech suit. When he was done he headed back out. If there were traps set up, he should have a recording of the terrorists setting them up.


He mentally kicked himself for one small flaw in his scouting run. He COULD have carried in bluetooth webcams for Ivan to set up and monitor the movements of the terrorists in real time AFTER his initial scouting run. He smiled wryly and wrote that down in his notebook.


Finally he walked back to where he had begun and allowed time to flow about him once more just as he closed his hand about the spot where the coin had been.

 

[Pattycakes]

Mark had forgotten how real the simulation room could look. It had been quite some time since he had been down in the room. As they approached the site, Mark stepped into his rigid military training. For him, stepping onto the battlefield always had an effect. He become focused and clear-headed. He forgot all worries, prior arguments, misgivings, and so forth. There was no room for such things in battle. This was his team, they would have his back and he would have theirs. On the battlefield, the past was forgotten.


As they approached Commander Arana, one of the more veteran officers of the base, Mark waited for Carter to establish contact and give him an affirmative to begin. Once Carter gave the word, Mark gave a nod at Xavier. He guessed it would take all of no time at all for Xavier to gather his information. Seconds later, after Xavier caught the coin, he spoke to Xavier. "Snasphot, be prepared to give me a report in 30 seconds."





Giving Xavier a moment to gather his summary, Mark turned to the rest of the team. "All right, let's do an equipment check before we get started. Check your weapons and gear, make sure everything is air tight. There's no room for malfunctions." As team began to look over gear, Mark activated his comms device. "Alpha Team this is Ops. Radio check, OVER."


Mark then pointed to Cedric, prompting him to respond. This will be interesting, Mark thought. He knew most of these rookies had no formal comms training, so this would be a good opportunity to see how trained they already were. By leaving out individual designations, he was also giving them the opportunity to assign codenames to themselves. Hopefully, they'd keep it under thirty seconds.

 

[Pastaa]

During their first meeting, she wasn't quite sure what to say, so she just observed and listened. She had no training in this kind of situation and didn't know how to help. No ideas came to mind when the scenario was given. Every idea thrown around was genius to her, even when the inexperienced (like her) shared their thoughts.


Danny stood in awe as she walked into the simulation room. She definitely wasn't expecting this, especially when the training rooms were mediocre at best. She snapped back to focus when she heard the new man's voice speak and listened carefully to what was going on. Danny wanted to make sure that every detail was absorbed into her brain.

 

[sharlene79]

Janice had chosen the KISS - Keep It Simple Stupid - philosophy in her gear choices. Some body armor to help protect her still very bruised self was the first consideration. She opted for Type III protection with Type 4 reinforcements to her chest and back. This was going to slow her down for her acrobatics a little bit. But she was trying to think of this as a real situation, using the sort of gear she would use if it were real. For a main weapon she decided if THEY had mechs, she wanted to be able to hurt mechs. She would have preferred an Uzi, small and light. Instead she went with a very newly designed IMI Tavor 7.62 NATO x95 … a 7.62 variant of the Tavor TAR-21. It was the weapon developed after harsh learning experiences in Afghanistan. Rifle ranges and muzzle velocities with a carbine size.


What was probably most surprising was that she even knew what the damned thing was, considering how new it was. There was no reference to her having even been exposed to such a weapon in her files. Then she proceeded to field strip with ruthless efficiency - with her eyes shut - using her feet and tail and grinning all the while offering a short briefing on the advantages of the weapon. She also went with a Glock 18, a fully automatic version of a standard Glock used by Israel in counterterrorism, as a backup. The rest of her weight included 4 impact fused WP grenades (paintball versions that would spray a neon yellow water soluble paint). 6 flash bang grenades, a small backpack filled with smoke grenades, plenty of extra clips, and a pair of hand Tasers.


For Danny she suggested similar armor, but with a full heavy duty riot shield. It was the sort of thing Danny’s vines could flow around, but she could see through.


+++++++


She was already no longer surprised what Xavier blinked from one position to another when it came time to do his scouting run. It had taken in less than half a second. But she was a little amused when Vanburen asked for the report in 30 seconds. The only thing that surprised her was that all the mechs didn’t blow up. Well, at least he wasn’t showing off … too badly. But she figured the guy was going to have a recording of everything he could cram onto his DVR.





Giving Xavier a moment to gather his summary, Mark turned to the rest of the team. "All right, let's do an equipment check before we get started. Check your weapons and gear, make sure everything is air tight. There's no room for malfunctions." As team began to look over gear, Mark activated his comms device."Alpha Team this is Ops. Radio check, OVER."


Janice grinned, her helmet slightly lopsided on her head. She was still having issues with the fit of the damned thing. “Ops, This is LADY JANE, yer coming in 5 by 5 mate ….. OVER.” Well, it wasn’t quite by the book, but it could have been worse. Her feet worked quickly inspecting her Glock while her hands worked on her x95. She glanced over at Cedric, Danny and Ivan and gave a hoarse whisper. “Ya know, if I just had me a stogie I could imitate the Colonel. Of course, I’d stink to high heaven.” As an afterthought she added, “Oh … hey … we aren’t being recorded … are we? Sorry Colonel.” She glanced about as if expecting to be struck by blue lightning.

 

[Erica]

Erica updated Project Atlas with a new update entry:


Simulation Information

I posted info in the OOC section about the simulation while I'm out of town. Since it was merged with my last OOC post, I'm calling it out here in case the system doesn't give a notification.

Read the rest of this update entry...

 

[Mitheral]

Thirty seconds? What was he heard someone say about Captains and Engineers? It had been at some Star trek convention. Scotty had said something about always multiplying estimated times for repairs by three because the captains would always want the job done in half the time. This felt like one of those occasions, Thirty seconds to turn hours of actionable raw intelligence into an analysis.


Xavier felt just a little dizzy and nauseous. Part of him wondered if he wasn’t still dragging from yesterday - and the day he had spent waiting for Vanburen to chew him out - and the day he had spent waiting for everyone to wake up.


Thirty seconds. He could have this whole mess cleaned up by then.


Thirty seconds. He carefully pulled out the data disks and held them up for Ivan. “Two full hours and then some recorded in fast forward and fast reverse. I recorded everything. Problem is by the time you can get this analyzed everyone will have moved. Wish we had a bunch of those web cam things. Oh .. speaking of computer stiff, I shot video of the displays for the entire period. You can actually watch every keystroke and prin -- read .. whatever was on the screens. I still can’t believe one of those disks holds more info than a zillion punch cards.”


“If you can’t convert that with some computer tricks, I’ll make some sketches, I can get you some exact locations. I have a laser measuring thing in my jump pack. Take 90 degree measurements for each object in relation to the nearest planes - the walls and you get a grid coordinate.


“They have three ‘real’ hostages. The rest are holograms. I swear I want to tear the projectors out of the wall and rebuild them out here. But I supposed we could just shoot the projectors with paintballs. You know, I have a suggestion. Why don’t we all just concentrate our efforts on fundraising so we can afford a better danger room? Fake trees. Fake sky. Fake hostages. Maybe we could get a manikin and dress it up in the Sarge’s uniform so he could sleep in? What’s next, a fake exercise? Or maybe the fake chewing out I’m gonna get for insubordination. Sorry, it’s just that this would be easier if it was real. For me anyways. My powers don’t work so well on fake.”


He began rattling off the numbers and descriptions of the mechs and participants of the exercise. “Oh, we ought to avoid embarrassing them too much - if we want to eat well for the next few weeks.”

 

[eheu]

The fashion in which Ivan entered the simulation room was that of a five-year old first entering a playground, or perhaps a child slightly older first arriving at an electronic arcade: stopping every other step to look around in amazement, complete with a few staggering steps and repeated gasping. Clearly visible was also his continued effort to resist the overwhelming urge to go and poke each and every thing in the environment: the buildings, the vehicles, the stones on the ground. The officer that was speaking with the Sergeant. On second thought, alright, poking an officer - hologramic or not - probably wasn’t the best idea at the moment.


Nine feet? Ivan looked upwards into the clouds and sky.


Nine feet. Good golly. He shuddered in disbelief as he carried on. How did this all work? Who developed this technology - and everything to go with it? The equipment in here obviously had to be tailored to the simulation system, unless there was an insane-level sophisticated machine vision involved here. Impressive, either way.


”Schrodinger Speaking. This thing is working, right?” he said as he walked along with the other members of the team. “...yeah it is. I hear Jane. Okay it’s working. Good.”


Ivan resisted reminding Janice that neither a stogie or an imitation of the Colonel would be a good idea right now.


The Com Van was an electronic arcade in its own way. Almost like one of those movie scenes - screens, panels, people in uniforms wearing identical headsets. Knowing that the room was half hologram, half real posed a significant challenge to a proper thought process - Ian decided he probably ought not to consider whether everything was physical or a projected illusion, since his eyes really can’t tell the two apart - a bit ironic, to say, considering what his mutation allows him to do. The few inches of elevation the vehicle provided in relation to the ground felt extraordinarily satisfactory under the unrealistic expectation that perhaps his feet will unexpectedly phase through a holographic floor - which, obviously, did not happen.


Expectations were the weirdest things. Not thinking about it too much might help with the practice as well. Ivan reminded himself just one last time not to think about whether something was real or not when-


“...Fake trees. Fake sky. Fake hostages. Maybe we could get a manikin and dress it up in the Sarge’s uniform so he could sleep in? What’s next, a fake exercise? Or maybe the fake chewing out I’m gonna get for insubordination. Sorry, it’s just that this would be easier if it was real. For me anyways.”


Oh well. Nevermind. It wasn’t like he was going to have much time to worry about it when it actually begins.


“...Thanks.” Ivan said as he took the discs, still too distracted to completely catch up with with what was going on just yet. And when he was finally done processing all that Xavier had said, “Thanks” fell way short in terms of expressing how he felt. If he hadn’t been focusing on getting used to not doing silly things ever since he joined Atlas, and if it hadn’t for Xavier’s all serious and annoyed face reminding him particularly not to do anything silly at this very time, he just as well might have launched himself out of the chair to hug him.


His eyes stared wide at the man as he rambled on about the details about the situation, first startled; but by the time Xavier finished, Ivan’s expression had been slowly transformed into a smile that was a combination of surprise and immense approval and overwhelming gladness.


“...You’re the man. This just made things so much better.” Nothing could possibly better than fresh digital data to put his hands onto. Ivan thought about saluting the man for his extensive intel gathering, but then decided against it as he didn’t really know how to pull a proper salute (four fingers? Five? For how long? when do you put your hand down? Nevermind.)


”You need not worry about computer tricks. I’ve got all the computer tricks.” He added cheerfully, as he slid the discs into one of the computers on the van.


Ivan’d always found Xavier’s perception of the world much interesting. Time travel, is it? Ivan really needed to figure this space-time madness out some day. Some day. Maybe it’d also be nice to maybe have a chance to chat a bit with the man too. Ivan had always been sort of a fan of retro things.


They ought to avoid embarrassing them too much, indeed; Ivan thought as he adjusted his pose in his chair and laid his hands onto the keyboard. ”Time to get to work.”


This was going to be good.

 

[Erica]

Sergeant Carter remained silent as he watched the team work out their approach to the exercise. As expected, Vanburen took the lead with basic checks of the comms and Snapshot jumped into action. Not that anyone saw him. As soon as Xavier tossed the coin into the air, he assumed that the young man was up to something. He didn’t seem the sort to take an action without purpose - even if that action was to show off. The slightest oddity in Xavier’s movement while it was in the air implied he was right, but the disks confirmed it. Snapshot’s insolent attitude toward the mechanics of the exercise confirmed another set of assumptions: but Mikael would remain silent on that count.


Commander Arana had been looking over the others, clearly sizing them up and watching how they interacted. They seemed an unlikely group, and clearly unseasoned. He had been briefed, but even so surprise registered on his features when Snapshot produced the disks. Arana had just started direct Schrodinger to the communications vans when the young man brightened at the thought of the disks - or maybe the challenge they represented.


Xavier’s recordings, once compiled, would reveal how quickly it had happened.


The teenager arrived in a beat-up Honda at approximately 11:30 am in the simulation’s time - at least based on the height of the sun in the sky. He sat in his car for a few minutes before making a phone call.


Even for those who couldn’t read lips, the conversation was pretty easy to deduce. He stared at the building as he spoke into the phone. “I’m here.” (The actor playing this role was taking it very seriously, perhaps too much so.)


Someone on the other end of the line must have spoken, for he paused before hanging up the phone, looking sullen and slightly nervous. A moment later he shoved the phone in his pocket and exited the vehicle. He scanned the parking lot, his eyes lingering a moment on the major road that led to the office’s main driveway. Then he made his way to the building. The receptionist greeted him with a warm smile. He said something to her, which prompted her to pick up her phone. He smiled at her and tapped the top of the phone once after she hung up before turning to sit in the waiting area.


A few minutes later, Dr. Jameson entered the reception area and greeted him with a hug. He seemed to tolerate it, although there was a flicker of something darker around his eyes. He put on a smile and asked her a brief question, at which she lit up. Dr. Jameson then waved to the receptionist and then led the boy back through to the observation area.


Once he was there, she talked with him and motioned to the labs, pointing something out through the large glass window. He shook his head. He started speaking, and something he said turned Dr. Jameson’s expression sour. Her brows furrowed as she stared at him, asking a question that couldn’t be heard. Their exchange continued, with the boy becoming increasingly sulky and Dr. Jameson’s body language more defensive. A lab tech entered the Observation room in the middle, clearly attempting to mediate.


As they were talking, a large tractor-trailer backed into the drive. Out of the back stepped a host of mech suits. Six made quick progress to the front door while twelve more spread out across the grounds. The woman behind the reception desk reached for her phone as soon as the truck had backed up, but found herself facing a redheaded man who had appeared beside her apparently from nowhere. He let the six mech suits into the facility, and in no time they had corralled all the employees to the three waiting areas. They divided up those in the lab, taking a handful to one of the meeting rooms but leaving a few in the storage area attached to the main lab. Meanwhile, the teenager had headed for one of the computers in the lab. His first action was to send the message the police had received: detailing that if the electricity is cut, hostages will die.


Dr. Jameson was initially put with the other hostages. About thirty minutes of impatient waiting later, the redheaded man - who had grabbed and donned one of the white labcoats - started asking the teenager what was going on. The boy was dismissive, after which there was a was brief conversation between Dr. Jameson and the boy. After that, he started looking at the redheaded man with mild suspicion.


Then the redheaded man grabbed Dr. Jameson by the arm. She cried out in pain at his touch just before he dragged her out at gunpoint. The redhead was glaring at the teenager. The hiss of oxygen accompanied the video again as sound came back on. “…nish it.” He said, pressing the gun against Dr. Jameson’s temple. (The team member playing this terrorist had clearly seen too many Die Hard movies. Being more over-the-top would require a soundtrack and a bad German accent.)


Byron’s eyes widened before he spoke very slowly, his eyes glued to Dr. Jameson. “That… would be a very stupid thing to do. Hurting her - hurting any of them - was not in the deal.”


“The deal was you get me those files, Byron.” He spat out the teenager’s name to elicit a response from Dr. Jameson. It sort of worked- the woman playing Dr. Jameson made an effort to underline their relationship, anyway.


Byron shook his head, still staring at his mother. “Yeah… so you could destroy them. Why not just destroy them now?” He pointed to the drives in one area of the storage unit. “You could do it pretty easily right here, Flicker. Isn’t that the point? Why do you need me at all?”


“We’ve been over this,” he said with patronizing slowness. “You can locate all the copies. All the copies. Backups. Ghost drives.” He waved the gun around in a circular motion as he made his point. “Whatever they’re called. We need them all. And at least one good copy so we can compare. Make sure they’re not on the verge of discovering it somewhere else. This isn’t their only lab.”


Meanwhile, Dr. Jameson glanced nervously at the mech in the corner of the lab. Byron’s gaze followed hers to the mech and back to her before he looked at Flicker and nodded. “Fine. But stop threatening my mom.”


“I thought you were good. You said that it wouldn’t take long.”


“It won’t - compared to what most people can do. But if you want an unencrypted copy, it’s going to take some time. The system is more complex than I thought.” He sat back down at a computer station.


"We can just take it with us, then."


Byron nodded and shrugged simultaneously. "We could, but breaking the encryption here should be faster. Referencing the source system." His fingers twitched at his side as he added, "Up to you. Want to take it as-is, or should I keep working here?"


Flicker eyed Byron, clearly suspicious of his explanation. Eventually he broke the tension by allowing Dr. Jameson move to her son's side, adding, “Don’t take too long,” while pointing the gun lazily at the boy's mother. Byron and Dr. Jameson exchanged a glance before Byron returned his attention to the screen in front of him.


That was nearly an hour ago in simulation time. The captures of the screens show him moving through files - but often through the same file systems repeatedly. An encryption breaking program is running on another monitor, apparently making little progress. Finally, an occasional alert pops up - when the police attempt to make contact or reestablish access to the building's security system. Byron dismisses it each time.


Outside, the larger mystery of the “teleporting” mech was captured by Xavier’s footage. When the robot shot at and disabled the first mech, a couple of seconds later another appeared directly behind it. Examination of the footage would show that none of the other mechs moved from their position and that the downed mech shifted position slightly at the time. 
[[ After clarifying with Mitheral what was and wasn't recorded, there is more information to share. Below is the detail on the conversation held in the observation area between Dr. Jameson, her son, and the lab tech that came out. This conversation ends with Flicker appearing along with the mechs. Essentially, during the eighth paragraph above. ]]


The hiss of oxygen could be heard from Xavier’s canisters on the recording as the sound came in with the boy's question to Dr. Jameson.


"So... have you made any progress? Ready to change the world and solve society's biggest problem?" His tone was huffy as he spit out the last word.


Dr. Jameson tilted her head slightly to the right, curiosity and caution warring in her voice. “We’re … working through our projects yes, but… What are you asking?”


A shadow crossed the teenager's features as he continued to watch the people working in the lab. “The ‘Plan N’ pill. You know, take a pill, have a normal baby?” He finally looked toward her, anger clear in his eyes.


Dr. Jameson folded her arms and stared at him, taking a few slow breaths and blinking rapidly. "Is that wha --"


One of the lab techs came into the observation area through the lab doors. He smiled upon seeing the boy. “Hey! Byron! How are you?” Belatedly, he recognized the tension in the room. “I didn’t know you were visiting your mom today…”


Dr. Jameson chuckled nervously and unfolded her arms. “He wanted to take me to lunch.” She looked at her son, hurt shining through her forced smile. (This actress wasn’t nearly as committed to her role, but she was trying.)


“Yeah, well, I couldn’t resist a sneak peek at the lab. How you’re preventing meta abominations and all.” This time he didn't bother to hide the anger in his tone.


The tech looked between Dr. Jameson and her son, shaking his head. “That’s not what we do here, you know.” But he didn’t get a chance to continue.

 

[Azseth]

Dolos' gear was not too technologically advanced by any means. He was wearing his issues uniform, to include the colored clovers, but some light armor that was more to stop bruising and cuts than any kind of projectile. At Carter's command, he presented his M6 assault rifle with attachments, his Taurus Judge, a standard Beretta 9mm, and then a matching pair of looped combat knives.


After setting his comm gear, he heard the first few commands then responded with a simple, "This is Dolos, over."


He adjusted his gear and then listened to the briefing and information going back and forth. He was somewhat frustrated by the group. There was much talk of holograms, projectors and other trivial things that had nothing to do with the situation. He debated speaking aloud, telling them that unless there is something constructive to talk about, then why not be quiet and pay attention, but it wasn't his place. Plus, the less he thought about them, the more he could pay attention to the important information.


He watched and listened to everything, in between talk of fundraising, paintballs, fake trees, and mannequins. While they rambled on about inane observations, something stuck in his head when he viewed what Byron was working with on the computer. It was evident that Byron knew what he was doing, but there was something slightly off. First, he kept reverting back to the same file and seemingly did nothing, except when it seemed that the other man, Flicker, had his gaze on him. Then he'd move in a blur of activity, flipping screens and typing. A few times, messages flashed on about incoming attempts to communicate but Byron immediately dismissed them, even though at no point had Dolos heard any command given stating to lock down all communications.


Byron DID know what he was doing, but what he WAS doing was nothing. Absolutely nothing, except stalling.


"Byron," he said loudly and suddenly, snapping after. He had that odd habit, speaking to himself aloud. He replayed the images over in his mind, flipping back and forth as he watched him. To anyone watching him, it was somewhat peculiar because Dolos would look around, focus on things or people, but he wasn't THERE mentally. He would be looking at everything around him, and talking, but he was viewing things in his head and talking to himself. And the more he looked at those things in his head, the more evident it was. The phone call, his demeanor. His attitude now. His lack of progress. His attempts to stall.


"Byron is the key for us to get in. He knows what he's doing, but he's doing nothing. Whatever is going on, he is either being forced to do what he's doing, or he got in over his head and realizes now that it's a mistake. We need to get him a message." He finally blinked twice and looked towards Snapshot.

 

[Alterius]

Cedric had been somewhat excited when they got to the equipment area, he immediately changed into his new gear changing quickly and making slight adjustments every now and then. It was a quick process and one he felt he would repeat often. He walked over to the wrap points rack and took a pair of tonfas as soon as he saw them. Strapping them to the back of his new armored pants he looked for something for long range combat knowing he wouldn't be able to use his expertise all the time. He walked over to the gun rack. His uncle always favored the desert eagle and mostly forced it on Cedric, but he had gotten used to it and wasn't a bad shot. So he grabbed one taking two extra clips. He strapped the holster to his hip and put theclips in their respective places. After that he was ready.


After a short walk to the sim room the group entered into broad daylight. He looked around taking it in. "Pretty cool." He was just strating to wonder how high the ceiling was when he told it was just nine feet. His facial expression became somewhat disappointed "Only nine huh, well I can work with that." Vicious attention returned to the task at hand when they were addressed by a different officer, he listened to the conversation awaiting the order to go whupp up on some terrorists. He jumped a little at Marksmans communication and quickly responded, going from his uncles example. "Ops, this is Pulse your coming in loud and clear." He left it at that figuring the others would get the message that he was done, and they did. He chuckled at Lady Janes comments glad she wasn't only amusing when drunk. He listened as the others made their responses, getting a better feel for their personalities by the way they responded. All in all this wasnt a bad group to be with, even though there were clearly suspicions about Dolos, Cedric decided to form his own opinions with his own observations of the man. Until given a solid reason not to Cedric would trust this man eventually worth his life but for now he'd trust him to help him avoid getting creamed by a mech. Feeling a bit more respect for the man after his keen observation. "Okay so how do we get to him, do we send a few of us to sneak in and secretly contact him, or do we try to message him on the off chance that he doesn't immediately delete it."


(On another note I apologize for kinda poofing, my life decided to get REALLY freakin interesting over the past few weeks. its calmed down bit so I should have more time coming. )


Sent from my Z768G using Tapatalk 2

 

[Pattycakes]

Mark was pleased with the progress they had made. At least since they walked onto the field, everyone seemed to keep the internal fighting in the closet and focus as a team. It was a promising start.


The only thing that bothered him was the complaining about the holograms and fake things. Of course the entire thing was fake, but if you didn't pay attention to the inconsistencies it would feel like the real deal. By pointing out the fake, they only undermined the entire point of the simulation: to see how the team would react in a real life metahuman hostage situation.


“Excellent work on the video, Xavier. Job well done.” Then, looking to Janice and Xavier, “Let's keep a serious attitude here and treat it like a real situation.” A reminder would serve its purpose. If he had to remind them again, that is when he would get annoyed.


As the footage played, Vanburen took note of the chemistry in the room. Clearly, some sort of speeder or teleporting metahuman who was the red head, Flickr. The teenager, Bryon, was the brains of the operation. That is, they couldn't get what they wanted without him. It was good that Dolos saw what most of the rest of the team likely missed. He was right, Byron was the key to the whole thing likely.


Speaking into his comms unit, Mark issued instructions. “Schrodinger, priority one is disabling the mechs. Is it possible you can send the kid a message to his computer? If so, be ready to send a message in six minutes or less.


“Snapshot, can you get in there without detection and deliver Byron a message?


“Snapshot, Pulse, Lady Jane, work together and plan how you would assault the base if we were to go now. I need a contingency plan if shit goes south, and I needed it an hour ago.


“Dolos, Dryad, get me a message together to send to the kid. We need to get him on our side, so tell him what you have to. You have five minutes to get me a message. See if you can also nail down what they're after.