As Cyndi observed the incoming helicopters, her mind drifted to assorted baked goods as well as a job well done celebrated by perhaps a game of Ms. Pac-Man or Space Invaders back at home. Just another troublesome day as a super-scientist, she thought. Despite having fewer resources to exploit than when dealing with various American agencies, she valued the ADF for simply being more cooperative.
She was literally wrenched from her daydream when she heard some indistinct hoo-hah from her newest hire--what was his name again? She blinked back into reality as she was pulled along around the house.
Oh, she thought, glancing at the young man. I suppose there is danger again. How troublesome. She emulated him, covering her ears with her palms and shutting her eyes, but she felt something strange pressing against her face. Oh. It was her mobile. It then occurred to her that there was something she ought to be doing.
Close by she heard the roar of a pack of eight-cylinder engines along with the thumping beat of bass through the ground. Quickly she was dialing her mobile. "General, have your helicopters retreat and land one klick from--"
She winced when she heard machine gun fire on the General's end and then a massive explosion and rain of debris on the other side of the house.
Even with his fingers in his ears he heard the explosion a loud blast that shook the house and caused debris to rain down, he opened his eyes and peered over the edge, it was still raining debris some of which got into his mouth, after coughing and spitting out bits of the rubble, he saw that the cadillacs and the convoy had been smashed to pieces bits were strewn all across the road.
“Oh man that was so nuts!” Justin exclaimed heading over to check out the wreckage, “I mean that just happened right out of the blue what’s up with that?” he said while scanning the debris scratching his head, “so there wasn’t anything important in that convoy right? The stuff for the laser cannon was in the helicopter right?” his attention shifted when he spotted something in the rubble, it was a medium sized container with a biohazard sign on it which he picked up and shook. “hey I found something! sounds half empty to me... You think it’s important?”
Justin was answered with the modulated hiss of Cyndi's breath exiting from a hooded hazmat mask. She pointed at the ground, showing that she now wore a pair of thick Nitrile rubber gloves in addition to the fact that the young man was also standing in a thin, steaming pile of the container's contents.
The girl stepped casually to the edge of the retreating, quickly evaporating fluid and crouched down close to it, her shoulders rising and falling to pantomime a sigh. While Justin was mostly correct that the cannon's hardware was stored within the containers hauled by the heli-convoy, the motorcade was responsible for support systems, and more importantly, the anti-retroplasm that served as the catalyst for the weapon against the plummeting space station and its radioactive, undead inhabitants.
Cyndi cupped her chin and stood up. The zombie disconauts weren't taking any chances...
She glanced at the house and stamped her foot in anger. The explosion that destroyed the supply trucks also blew a hole in the estate, exposing sensitive systems and power generators. She put a hand to her forehead when the roof collapsed slightly, triggering a small explosion of sparks within. She stood there standing surveying the damage, taking no note of the glowing shapes of green astronauts emerging from the wreckage of the ruined convoy and Cadillacs.
Justin stared incomprehensibly at the hazmat mask that now covered Cyndi’s face, that is until she pointed to the goop he was now standing in, “agh!” he cried holding the container away from his body and stepping off the goop, luckily none of it had gotten on his skin, he was debating on whether or not he should put the container down when the glowing green astronauts began to rise from the wreckage.
“Ah! The weird spacemen aren’t dead!” he shouted “well technically I guess they are dead since they’re ghosts and all…well, they aren’t as dead as I would like them to be!” yet again on the verge of pure panic, Justin hurled the container at the nearest astronaut, then charged another of the glowing astronauts and attempted to perform a Captain Kirk style dropkick, the kind of dropkick with absolutely no plan for recovery after it is delivered, there have been better plans sure but Justin liked the flexibility of this one.
How troublesome, thought Cyndi.
The container clocked the first radioactive astronaut, causing it to fall back and the container to break open on top of it. The remainder of the hazardous contents spilled upon the astronaut, causing it to flail to a stand. It lurched forward slowly before letting out a low, pained groan and falling face-forward onto the littered highway, its space suit started to be consumed by its own radioactivity.
In true mook fashion, Justin took three astronauts down like bowling pins, the first taking down two behind it as it fell back in a mutual take-down, leaving Justin and three astronauts down.
There were indistinct moans all over the landscape now as the rest of the astronauts rose, seemingly undamaged from the kamikaze attack they made against the convoy. Though there were dead soldiers amongst the reckage, none stirred, and more puzzlingly, none were feasted upon by the astronauts.
As Cyndi grew more cognizant of the scene and less troubled by the status of the house, she slipped her rucksack off her shoulders and began rummaging, producing a rifle that from butt to muzzle was as long as Cyndi's height to her shoulder. She also produced a pair of what looked like neon plastic water pistols and shoved them into her front pockets and began to run for one of the more in tact but overturned trucks.
His foot hit the astronaut hard, his ill concieved dropkick caused the astronaut to fall backwards into two other astronauts who came tumbling down with them. Despite the pain now flaring from his butt from landing on it he was actually quite proud of that dropkick, usually when he tried that he ended up missing the guy altogether but this time to took down three of them! As he shakily stood back he saw that the rest of the astronauts were beginning to rise, outnumbered and out of ideas Justin did what he always did when faced with a problem, he threw things.
Bits of scrap metal, a cushion, a rock, some sand anything he could grab he threw, most just bounced of their suits harmlessly. Justin was getting nervous this might be a problem that throwing things wouldn't solve, he then turned and saw Cyndi running towards an oveturned truck carrying a rifle. Justin ran after her crying "Hey! wait up! slow down! where'd you get the gun? how come I don't have any weapons?!"
Last edited by Kiall; 02-23-2011 at 07:38 PM.
Cyndi clicked her tongue peevishly. So much for the distraction, she lamented.
She had to find more of the anti-retroplasm to fight back the astronauts. She had wished now that she carried more conventional weaponry within her Nth dimensional rucksack. Though inherently useless as bullets were in this situation, a high enough calibre did stun the disconauts, even if it was only momentarily. And a sheer number of bullets were able to riddle their limbs useless, though that required a certain amount of precision, not to mention a mass of shells.
Hmph, for being a mutate, the boy lacked a certain... resilience she had come to expect. Perhaps the biometric scanner she used on him wasn't calibrated properly. Well, whatever. So long as the disconauts were without a vital 8-track tape player or otherwise deprived of music, they were of little threat beyond standard blugeoning and dismemberment. But, since the young man did not seem particularly adept at hand to hand combat, all she could suggest was:
"Dance. Just dance for them!" she called over her shoulder.
Last edited by sneakyonfoota; 02-23-2011 at 09:38 PM.
“Dance whaddaya mean… for them?” Justin didn’t really know what to do with Cyndi’s advice, if he wasn’t the trusting sort he’d of thought Cyndi was trying slow down the astronauts by using him as bait. He wasn’t even a good dancer! But he couldn’t fight them all so if he was going down he might as well go down looking like a fool, it’d be poetic at least. Justin stopped and started doing the robot jerking his arms and legs “Domo arigato Mr. Roboto, dah dah dahhhhh!” “Domo! Domo!” he sang jerking spastically. To his amazement the astronauts began to mimic his dance movements “Oh wow awesome, Thriller style zombie spacemen!”
He tried freestyling it incorporating a bit of the moonwalk, the pelvic thrust, and the rowboat. He also changed to a different song “We can dance if we want to! We can leave the earth behind! Cause spacemen dance and if they don’t dance, then they aren’t any spacemen of uhm…Time!” Sure enough the astronauts mimicked his spastic dance movement and even tried to sing along to his badly butchered song. “Cyndi! You won’t believe this! I’ve controlled them with the power of dance! I am now the Dancing Astronaut Lord…of Dance!”
With great difficulty, the girl had dragged a full container of the hazardous material from one of the trucks. Straggling behind her was a wounded AA soldier, himself carrying another container of ooze one-handed with the other clutching at a wound in his side. After she had re-entered Justin's field of view from behind the overturned truck, her eyes registered shock and her arms went limp at her sides, dropping her rucksack onto the spider-webbed tarmac.
"Who told you to sing!?" she screamed through her mask. "You're not supposed to sing!"
In her sudden loss of composure she fumbled with a hose attached to her container, hurriedly attaching it to the strange rifle-like weapon she had been carrying.
The disconaut zombies, without the command and power of song (no matter how poorly performed), seemed to become restless and angry, and began to repeat Justin's lyrics themselves despite being muffled by their helmets. They seemed much more energized now. One of them, emerging from a wreck of a Cadillac held a stereo torn free from the car's dashboard in triumph.
The AA soldier whipped out his service pistol and started putting bullets in the stereo-toting astronaut.
"what? why can't I sing? you can't have dancing without singing!," he noticed the astronauts were getting restless, "easy my minions calm yourself!" Justin said attempting to calm the horde, one of them grabbed a stereo, but before he could do anything the wounded soldier shot him which caused Justin to scream and duck, mostly because he thought the soldier was aiming at him.
he turned back to see the now slumped astronaut "my performer, nooo!" he ran up to the soldier, "why would you do that? we were going to go on tour! I was gonna be famous!" he then noticed the the container similar to the one he threw, "Oh hey you found that...stuff, that's good right?"
Last edited by Kiall; 02-24-2011 at 11:52 PM.