Page 1 of 22 123 ... LastLast
Results 1 to 10 of 214

Thread: Business Is War [M] (S)

  1. #1
    The Replicant
    Azazeal849's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2011
    Location
    UK
    Posts
    6,942
    Mentioned
    68 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    347

    Default Business Is War [M] (S)


    Outside the window of the spacious office, the city was bathed in the glow of a warm mid-morning sun. Except it wasn’t really a window - just a projector screen that used cleverly layered holograms to mimic one. All the exterior walls of the EuroCorp headquarters complex were hardened to protect against anything up to an air-to-surface missile, and what windows did exist were made from bulletproof, blast-resistant glass. The sunshine wasn’t real either - outside, the heavy grey sky was drizzling yet another shower of acid rain onto dull glass and pitted concrete, but the screen edited the view from the external cameras into something a little less depressing. The ersatz sunlight beamed in to illuminate a smartly dressed woman and two scientists in their shirtsleeves.

    “That’s all well and good.” junior executive Britta Engel was saying, “But are the modifications effective?” She was a striking woman in her mid thirties, with dark blonde hair and deceptively soft features offset by a confident bearing and shrewd blue eyes. Her voice, like her face, was a deceptively soft south-German dialect.

    “We analysed the data from De Luca’s Agents,” replied one of the scientists, “And it seems Asari’s weapon somehow interfered with their CHIPs’ control signals. So we’ve reduced the Agents’ dependence on them. As a side effect they’re a little more independent, but they still have all the usual failsafes and command protocols. They can’t disobey orders.”

    “Show me.” said Britta.

    “Agent Kerberos, enter.” called the second scientist. A man in a long black coat with loose sleeves swept wordlessly into the room. His features had a Slavic cast, though they were distorted by scar tissue where previous injuries had required considerable repair work. His eyes were cold, black and unfathomable. It was a face that Britta Engel knew well.

    “And how do you feel, agent Kerberos?” she asked him. It wasn’t a pleasantry, it was a test - a normal agent would not have understood the question.

    Kerberos' brow furrowed for an instant before he replied. “I feel well, Executive Engel.” His voice was grim and tinted with a Slavic accent as usual, but had a new, almost indiscernible quality about it; like there was a person behind the voice.

    Britta listened with interest, and a little disconcertion. Even for the grim and monotone Kerberos, the difference was noticeable. Once people were converted into Agents it was easiest - and probably best - to stop thinking of them as people. If the others were like Kerberos, then Britta was left with the uncomfortable feeling that she might have to reassess her stance.

    They were interrupted by a knock on the door. A clean-cut young man with closely cropped hair stepped through, and acknowledged all three of the office’s occupants with a curt nod. Britta recognised him as Dawson, another one of the junior executives.

    “Just so you know, ma’am, the boss wants an update on that new team. He wants them out in the field yesterday.”

    “Xenakis always wants things done by yesterday.” Britta smiled thinly. Marco Xenakis was the half Greek, half Italian leader of one of the many crime families in the loose alliance that had sprung up in the late 60’s, and one of the first to get his foot in the door with EuroCorp. The syndicates had always been power-brokers. Fifty years ago it had been politicians that they sponsored in return for continued immunity - but as the corporations had grown it had become executives and chairmen who held the real power, and the more sharp-minded crime bosses had been swift to recognise it. People like Marco Xenakis.

    The crime bosses were all exceptionally good businessmen, and they didn’t let ethics get in the way of their profits. It was capitalism at its most ruthless; pure and simple. Britta wasn’t from a Camorra or Mafia background, but she was used to the somewhat direct manner of those in the company who were.

    “And yes,” she went on, “They’re ready. We’ve remodified three existing agents and recruited seven more. They should be coming out of surgery any minute now.”

    “Ten?” Dawson said, raising an eyebrow.

    “It’s all within the assigned budget. Since De Luca’s team failed I didn’t want to take any chances. I for one don’t fancy ending up like De Luca.”

    “Quite.” said Dawson. “Mind if I take a look?”

    “Be my guest.” Britta shuffled the papers on her desk into a neat sheaf, and passed them over. Dawson flicked through them briefly.

    “You didn’t thaw out Dr Miles’ boy, did you?” he said, sounding aggrieved. It had been a bad business from the start, keeping Miles’ wanted son on ice, and Dr Miles himself had been killed only a month ago when a saboteur - probably on Sonbushi’s payroll - detonated a bomb in his lab. The internal security division was still trying to pick up the pieces and find out how it had happened, while various people tried to shift the blame off themselves and onto each other.

    “I made a deal with Division 6.” Britta said levelly, “They had to recoup their losses somehow.”

    “Okay.” said Dawson, continuing to flick through until he came to a file topped with the name Sagahara. “What’s a seventeen year old doing in the program?”

    “She volunteered; apparently her family was killed by Sonbushi. She was within sizing parameters for the cybernetics so there shouldn’t be a problem. You’re questioning rather a lot of my decisions, aren’t you?”

    Her tone was light, but she was looking at the other junior executive steadily.

    “I’m just asking the same questions that the boss will.” Dawson shrugged, though Britta saw his eyes dart briefly towards Agent Kerberos who was standing quietly behind her, his gloved mechanical hands folded in front of him.

    “Thank you for your concern.” said Britta coolly, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and code in the other Agents.”

    + + + + + +

    The med lab was picked out in white tiles and sterile grey furniture. It was well lit, but the white light was somehow disconcerting. It was mortuary light; dissection table light. Doctors and cyber-surgeons stood to one side as Britta made her way down the stairs, her heels clicking softly on the metal steps. Agent Kerberos followed silently behind her. In the wide room below were nine beds, and at the foot of each bed lay nine sets of identical unmarked clothing in various sizes, complete with nine identical black overcoats. They looked innocuous enough, but each coat had special loops and pockets for concealing weapons, and was reinforced with carbon nanotube fibres. Under the coats were much less subtle implements of war - guns, knives, and even a compound bow. For some they were the former human’s own weapons, for others they were items from EuroCorp’s extensive armoury that they had been programmed with the knowledge of how to use. EuroCorp owned several weapons manufacturing companies, and rather than standardise their Agents’ weapons they tended to use a variety, thus fuelling the illusion that the Agents were members of a gang or a mercenary unit rather than an organised force that could be traced back to the corporation. Like the clothes, all the guns were unmarked.

    On the beds themselves lay nine people, male and female, of all nationalities. They were naked, and, apparently, asleep. Each one bore faint surgical scars where nanobots and bio-foam completed the last stages of knitting together human tissue and cybermesh. Medical technology had come on leaps and bounds in the last 70 years, and all of this was geared towards getting the Agents up and operational as fast as possible. The cybernetics were all covered with prosthetic skin, virtually undistinguishable from the original, but Britta’s practiced eye could pick out the implants from the scar patterns. Here a pair of cybernetic arms, there a shaved skull and the incision lines where neural implants had been inserted, on the nearest Agent extensive scarring across the torso from the addition of overlapping armour plates over the ribcage and abdomen. The only modification common to all was a silver stud in the back of the neck, where their control CHIPs were implanted.

    “They’re all keyed to your command.” said one of the scientists to Britta as she approached. The junior executive nodded.

    “Wake up.” she said clearly. Nine CHIPs activated, injecting a surge of adrenaline through the Agents. As one, their eyes snapped open.

    “Stand up.” she added. Robot-like, the Agents complied. They seemed more confused than was typical - could it be a side effect of the increased self-awareness granted by the modified CHIPs?

    She walked briskly down the line of motionless Agents, indifferent to the fact that they were all naked. She passed the first three, who were established Agents rather than new recruits, and stopped before a tall, square-jawed man with sandy hair. The man’s eyes were still slightly glazed from the memory wiping process, or possibly just residual anaesthesia.

    “Your name is special agent Carter.” she told him, before moving on down the line. “Special agent Halton…special agent Trent…special agent Hime…special agent Anderson…special agent Robson.”

    Reaching the end, she turned. “Get dressed, pick up your weapons and then follow agent Kerberos -” she indicated the lightly built but imposing figure behind her, “- to room 272. I’ll be waiting for you there. We’ve got work to do.”
    Last edited by Azazeal849; 11-15-2012 at 11:57 PM.
    Spoiler: My RP links 

    PM me for novelised versions of any of my RPs, or ones that I have participated in. Set by the awesome Karma.


  2. #2
    Member Hex's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2012
    Posts
    11
    Mentioned
    0 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    10

    Default

    Agent Trent followed the direction with an almost nervous composure. He knew he should feel embarrassed, but something about that woman's voice seemed to distance that feeling to mere understanding. Every word she spoke deadened his confusion like a flame eating it's last oxygen...

    As he dressed, he couldn't take his eyes off the cold metal weapons he knew were his. He threw the large black coat on, and placed his hand on the pistol.

    Information unbidden streamed into his mind. He understood everything about this weapon, yet he was certain he had never held one before. He tried to shake the feeling as he geared up, but it shadowed him out the door.
    Last edited by Hex; 01-23-2012 at 10:45 PM.
    How is a raven like a writing desk... ?

  3. #3
    Member Ixajin's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2011
    Location
    East Coast, USA
    Posts
    410
    Mentioned
    0 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    11

    Default

    His thoughts were jumbled. One moment he was lost in darkness, and then he had the sensation of being in freefall. Neither felt right, or pleasant. As time went by, at least he believed time was still flowing, his mind tried to grasp any manner of rationalization of what he was feeling. But rational thought continued to hover just out of reach.

    Without warning a new vision flashed through his brain. For the briefest of moments he would have sworn that he was looking through the scope of a rifle. Only when he flexed his hands there was clearly nothing in them. This added to his confusion and he felt ready to panic. Yet he remained calm and sighted in on the center of the target that suddenly appeared in his mind. While he did not feel or hear a rifle fire, he clearly saw the target take a hit. Then it was dark again.

    He was unsure how much time had elapsed when he felt shocking pain radiate from his legs only to be followed once again by the sensation of free-falling. Nothing made sense. His mind was jumbled, yet when he attempted to focus on specific skills he suddenly became clear of mind. Hunting, tracking, making the difficult shot. These things came to him with crystal clarity. These thoughts calmed him. Then a voice broke his peace.

    “Stand up.”

    Without hesitation, he stood. For the first time his vision was clear and he could see the room around him. For whatever reason, for it was unknown to him, he did not turn his head to get a better idea of where he was. Instead he simply stood there looking straight ahead. Then she was standing in front of him, pierced by those blue eyes.

    “Your name is agent Anderson…” The voice was unknown to him. The name was unknown to him. The unknown surrounded him. And the voice continued. “Get dressed, pick up your weapons and then follow agent Kerberos -” she indicated the lightly built but imposing figure behind her, “- to room 272. I’ll be waiting for you there. We’ve got work to do.”

    Only then did Anderson realize he was naked. Without flinching he walked over to the table and pulled on some dark colored clothing. He found it odd that the fit was so well tailored, as if they were produced just for him. The last thing he pulled on was the full length trench coat, pitch black with a double collar. Following this he turned to look at the weapons in front of him. He picked up the knife and tied the sheath around his left thigh. Then he grabbed the .45 pistol kit. Looking over all the pieces in the kit, he put each piece in its place and then placed the kit in to a sleeve that had been sewn in to the inside of the trench coat. Finally he reached for the rifle, sleek in appearance, and deadly lethal. As he picked it up he suddenly felt a wave of nausea creep over him as his vision swayed. Only then did he realize that this was the weapon with the scope he had seen through before now.

    A smile forming on his face, Anderson pocketed the clips and ammo for the rifle and walked out of the med lab with the rest of the agents. He had no idea who he was, or why he was here; but he knew that whoever he was about to set after would need to be extremely skilled, lucky, or more to the truth: both.

  4. #4
    Member The Bartender's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2011
    Location
    Dusting the Bottles
    Age
    27
    Posts
    2,228
    Mentioned
    0 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    24

    Default

    It was dark. She couldn't see a thing, but hear. She heard someone talking, as well as noices of machines, and there was pain, sharp pain all over her body. She didn't know what was happening or why, or even who she was, but she felt the pain.
    After a time that felt like a year, the pain was gone, the noices were gone, but she still didn't know anything. Then it was all dark and quiet.
    "Stand up."
    Somewhere from the darkness she heard those words and stood up. She could see. It was a white room, but she had no interest in it, even thought she wanted to look around she couldn't.
    "Your name is special agent Hime..." said the voice, a woman.
    "Get dressed, pick up your weapons and follow agent kerberos-" A person behind her, "-to room 272. I'll be waiting you there. We've got work to do." She said.
    She walked to the table, dressed up, put on a black trench coat and then went to the weapons.
    She slipped the knifes in their positions so experienced that she was stunned. One knife in each boot, one in both sleeves, one tied to the thigh and two on pockets on her back.
    Then she put the pistol in it's own position, under her armpit and packed the Combound bow into a suitcase with five arrows which were there as well as the different arrow tips.
    She didn't know who she was, or where she was, but it felt somehow good to know nothing. Slightly smiling, she walked to the other agents who were ready.
    Thank you Bia for the amazing Signature and Avatar!

    Spoiler: Gangnam Style! 

  5. #5
    Member
    Join Date
    Jan 2012
    Posts
    129
    Mentioned
    0 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    10

    Default

    Cedric woke up with a start. He could hear faint voices that sounded no louder than whispers. The voices seemed to echo, gradually getting louder until they faded. It was impossible to understand the myriad of voices, and for a second Cedric thought that the voices might all be in his head. Then a woman spoke. The voice seemed to be louder and clearer than the rest of the voices, clear as the sound of a bell.

    "Stand Up."

    Cedric slowly swung his legs to the side of the bed he was in, and stood. He struggled to keep his balance, and almost fell. Then he realized what was happening as his memories came back to him. The last thing he remembered was being frozen, for reasons unknown to him. His vision was blurry, but he could make out the figure of a woman standing in front of him.

    His vision adjusted, and the dreary gray room came into focus. He was standing in a row with eight other agents, who were all naked. It wasn't until then that he realized he was naked. He felt groggy, but as time passed he started thinking at a normal rate. He had this weird sensation. It seemed like he had more control of himself.

    What did they do to me this time?

    Then the woman gave them another command.

    “Get dressed, pick up your weapons and then follow agent Kerberos to room 272. I’ll be waiting for you there. We’ve got work to do.”

    She motioned to the agent behind her. He seemed familiar, but Cedric couldn't tell for sure. He walked to the tables with the other agents, and dressed himself in the black clothes, trench coat, and grabbed his sunglasses. He then proceeded to the next table, where all of his weapons were laying in cases.

    As soon as he touched his Colt, he remembered everything. All of his missions, the agents he worked with, and the various events that had happened throughout his life. He put his weapons in the loops on the inside of his trench coat, where they were completely concealed. He then waited by the door for Kerberos to lead them to room 272. He knew where it was of course, but he figured that Britta wanted him to wait for the other agents.

  6. #6
    Member Mihaw's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2012
    Location
    New zealand
    Posts
    27
    Mentioned
    0 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    10

    Default

    At first there was nothing, nothing but darkness. Michael didnt know why everything was dark, or how it had gotten dark in the first place, Infact it seemed like he didnt know anything at all. No memories, No feelings just empty space. *Is this death?* he thought plainly, unable to acess feelings of any kind. After what felt like an eternity he finally felt something. It began as a small itch starting from his chest, spreading across his upper body and arms. In a matter of seconds and without warning the itch turned into an unbearable burning feeling, as if he was boiled alive. Michael couldnt do anything about the pain that rushed through him , he couldnt scream, he couldnt hide, he could only take it in. Suddenly something flew through his mind, making the pain disappear right away. He was in a trench, wounded soldiers on the ground, then he noticed he watched the scene through someones eyes through a helmet, as the person put his arms on one of the wounded. There was a Mechanical *Click* and a flash. The pain in his body was now back. The person he was watching flew backwards onto the ground, while inside a Huge Blast of fire, then the vision disappeared taking the pain with it.

    The darkness disappeared as his eyes opened from alone. His vision was blurred, but soon he had fixed them on the grey roof of the room, there was also voices, which he couldnt quite understand as they were muffled, as if spoken from a long distance away. "Stand up" A womans voice interrupted his thoughts, but without hesitation he did as he was told. He stood first in a line next to other men and women, which were as naked as he was. He wanted to move his gaze, to get a better look at the women standing in the line with him, but couldnt, his gaze was fixed on the eyes of another woman who stood right infront of him. "Your name is special agent Carter" She told him, then moved onto the next person. Carter? For some reason he felt like he had allways had the name now, altho she just gave it to him a moment ago. “Get dressed, pick up your weapons and then follow agent Kerberos -” the woman said as she reached the end of the line.

    He just followed her orders without hestitation. He Got dressed and looked at his weapons, An H&K 416, a desert eagle and a shortened Pump action shotgun. Im suppose to keep them all under my coat? he thought to himself, but already saw a solution. Not caring if anyone watched he picked up a backpack which was leaned against a wall, acting as if it was toatally normal, in the backpack were a few medical things which he scattered over the bed he was in earlier, he then shoved the shotgun inside. He then folded the H&Ks folding stock and hid it under his coat. The same with the Desert eagle. He then grabbed his spare mags and returned to where he stood earlier, his new backpack in his hand, waiting till the others were done.

    (hope thats ok :3)

  7. #7
    Member SandQueen's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2011
    Location
    Gulf Coast
    Age
    36
    Posts
    1,099
    Mentioned
    0 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    18

    Default

    "Where's Faye?" Agent White yelled as Black slipped around the corner.

    "She's down. Didn't make the lockdown." Agent Black Answered. White shifted and the other agent unzipped his pack, producing a pair of magazines. He ejected the empty magazine from the combat carbine he held and inserted a fresh one. The other he handed to White.

    "And Smith?" White asked as he did the same. A dull lurch filled his stomach as the elevator began to rise.

    "Still stuck on the shipping dock. Something about a biometric lockout." Black said as he chambered a round. "So how are we going to get the target's chip?"

    "I'm working on that." White said. "I'm not the one that usually has to worry about that detail." He turned to face the elevator door and said "You'd think a German company wouldn't need to buy Russian guns."

    "Probably trying to cut costs." Black said. "Next time we should bring our own stuff."

    "I did." White said.

    "More than a sidearm." Black added.

    "Do it right that's all you need." White jeered

    "Well if next time is like this time then we wont." Black said quietly. The elevator was beginning to slow and the two steadied themselves. The doors opened and the muzzles of their rifles snapped up into position as if on identical time delays. Black stepped out first, sweeping the area. His heard turned toward the reception desk and said "Thermal trace...one under the desk, not armed."

    "Leave them." White said as the pair swept towards a pair of red lacquered doors. They took up positions on either side of them. "Your breach." White said with a nod.

    Black twisted and delivered a bone shattering kick to the door, just to the side of the lock. A chorus of screams joined the clatter of wood and metal which was hastily punctuated by a series of shots. A burst of automatic fire caught White's ear and a split second later he was moving into the room as well. He saw Black twisting and falling, blood pouring from the side of his face. He saw a man holding a pistol... something small and cheap... and fired a tight burst into his chest that finished like some sort of obscene slur in the man's throat. White didn't see the chair though.

    He began to turn when a shadow passed over the receiver of his rifle. As he twisted to defend though he was was too late. A rolling chair came down hard, smashing against his elbow. A loud pop and grinding crack filled the room as servos and pistons were ripped from their houses. The whole of his forearm had been annihilated and with its fragments his rifle had also been sent to the floor.

    White made a quick repost, drew his revolver, and fired. Once... twice... three times. Two slugs into the woman's sternum and a third into her face just to the side of her nose. Her head snapped back and forth like it was on a spring before she fell. White scanned the room quickly before holstering his weapon. He approached the corpse of the man he had shot, the one that had killed Black. He paused for a moment and furrowed his sweat streaked brow. He blinked as as an idea occurred to him. He knelt, placing a knee squarely in the man's collar bone and drew his combat knife.

    It took half an hour of peeling and slicing before he got to the man's spinal chord and from there all it took was a sharp thrust of the chisel point to sever the man's head from his body. He glanced out a window and could see their planned VTOL craft beginning to circle. He relocated the chair, used it to make a hole, and then clutching the man's scalp dove from the window.

    A flicker of static crossed the screen.


    "So you've got the chip?" White asked.

    "You decapitated the target with a combat knife." The man across the desk said.

    "I was careful about it." White answered. "Didn't just go in hacking about."

    "That's hardly the point." the other man said "But you also killed his wife."

    "She hit me with a chair. And wrecked my arm."

    "You agreed to the graphine arm as a way of slipping through biometric scans that would have registered your metallic arm as being military issue."

    "I didn't agree to be hit with a chair though."

    "So you're telling me that you killed her because she hit you with a chair, not because she damaged your arm and compromised your combat ability?"

    "Oh course." White replied with a shrug. "She could have thrown something at me or punched but chairs? That might be bar room etiquette in the pub you drink at but I'm a professional. Chairs and bottles is overboard."

    "She didn't have a bottle. And you were there to remove part of her husband's skull."

    "Doesn't matter. The secretary hid. She could have done the same. So is the Chip good or not?"

    "It's fine." the man said as he rubbed his brow. "Go to the medical lab. There's a new team that you're going to be on and they'll get you a new arm as well."

    White stood and turned to leave, offering a "Cheers." before the door shut.

    The man at the desk pressed a button on his telecom and said "Flag Agent White's profile, I want the security recording from Bauminster placed in it."

    ***

    "Wake Up White woke up. It seemed like a good idea. He remembered bits and pieces. It felt like more than usual but he wasn't one to judge. He stood up and flexed his shoulder. Cold metal responded. Gears, servos, pistons, and wires. Well that was something. He could remember something about his last arm. It had broken though, not like it was supposed to.

    “Get dressed, pick up your weapons and then follow agent Kerberos to room 272. I’ll be waiting for you there. We’ve got work to do.” White didn't know who this woman was or the man with her but considering that they both had clothes on and he and the others were stripped it seemed like a good idea.

    White pulled on his trousers and laced up his boots. He pulled a polymer-mesh tank-top over his head and a shirt made out of a synthetic material over that. He tightened his belt and made sure it interlaced correctly with the holster that had been supplied. He picked up a black plastic sheath and pulled a blade from it.... the finish was scratched and he had recently been sharpened. He couldn't imagine why though.

    He clipped the sheath to the small of his back and then picked up the revolver. Two barrels, one single shot and one that fed from a cylinder. Looping the trigger guard around his index finger he spun it and went to place it in his holster but paused. He looked at the pistol and spun it again. It felt natural, like he had done it before. He could remember having handled the weapon before, many times, as well as things like it but he could not recall ever spinning it. He spun it a third time and placed it in his holster before picking up the rifle he had been supplied.

    Bullpup configuration, match grade ammunition, high penetration, medium range, underslung electronics countermeasure. It came with a single point sling and there was an armored vest as well with an array of pockets and pouches that held ammunition for it and the revolver. White put it on and could feel its ceramic plates tight against his chest, a thin layer of cloth and muscle separating them from the metallic lattice that was interwoven to his ribs. He looped the single point harness around his chest and walked toward the door. He left the coat. There was something uncanny about it, a feeling that it didn't belong to him.
    Ask me questions, I'm a doctor

    Nightcall Developing the future, one night at a time.

  8. #8
    The Last Remembrancer
    dakkagor's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2011
    Location
    the luminous Aether
    Favourite Roleplay Genres
    Modern times or Sci-Fi games.
    Posts
    1,950
    Mentioned
    53 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    179

    Default

    “Wake up.” she said clearly. Nine CHIPs activated, injecting a surge of adrenaline through the Agents. As one, their eyes snapped open.
    He surged up into a sitting position, confused but alert. Where was he? What was going on? Who the hell had put him here?

    “Stand up.” she added. Robot-like, the Agents complied. They seemed more confused than was typical - could it be a side effect of the increased self-awareness granted by the modified CHIPs?
    He swung of the bed and stood on the floor. He had a sensation of being. . .taller, heavier. Heavier and taller than what, he couldn't say, but it felt like wearing clothes to big for him. His eyes flitted left and right, taking the scene in. To say it was bewildering was an understatement. He watched the woman, the only person clothed, it seemed, walk down the line. She had a nice ass, just his type, all prim and proper. They acted like ice queens but once you got past that exterior. . .

    special agent Robson.
    He snapped to attention, eyes forward. Robson. His name was Robson. If that was his name, why did he need to be told it? Why couldn't he remember something that important on his own? He frowned as he tried to concentrate, to figure out what was wrong. But nothing was wrong. This was normal.

    “Get dressed, pick up your weapons and then follow agent Kerberos -” she indicated the lightly built but imposing figure behind her, “- to room 272. I’ll be waiting for you there. We’ve got work to do.”
    He looked over to Kerberos, and then walked with the others. He pulled on the suit quickly, expertly affixing the pancake holster with the heavy pistol in the small of his back under the synthetic leather coat. Something about having work to do excited him, though. What excited him more was the heavy, black case that seemed to be marked with his name. Unpacking it he discovered a chaingun, its multiple spinning barrels and heavy backpack promising a messy death for his enemies.. . whoever they where. A nasty, bullies smile spread across his face as he hefted the weapon easily and rigged it. The ammo counter read 'full'.

    Robson kept that smile all the way to the briefing room.
    I have seen the future. The future is dead.
    We killed it


    Spoiler: How to get me to commit to your game 

  9. #9
    Member of the Month!
    PaintSerf's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2011
    Posts
    1,189
    Mentioned
    40 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    126

    Default

    He felt himself falling backward, even though he was lying flat on his back, and into a lounging seated position. Even though his arms were at his side, and at complete rest, he felt them wrap around the shoulders of the two men that were next to him. While he was alone, at least in his flesh, but in his mind he could felt the presence of others. His vision was blurred, as if looking through a warped glass, but the image was so very familiar. While he couldn’t clearly see the people around him, or hear their voices as their mouth’s moved, he knew he felt something for them.

    Instinctively he knew he would kill, and had killed, for them. He knew that they would do the same for him, and had done so, without question. If necessary they would die for each other. These were unquestionable and incontrovertible facts, even if he couldn’t remember the context of them, but he knew it was true. As his arms started to reach up to clutch the other men’s throat, and get them in a headlock, he noticed something on his left arm. While he leaned forward, and felt the other men’s hands reach up to pry his arms from around their neck, he saw what looked like a design inscribed on the flesh. It looked like…


    “Wake up.”
    Instantly the confusingly comfortable scene vanished from his mind and he saw reality for what it was; a white room soaked in white light. He barely had time to register that his eyes were open, that he could feel his heart beating, and hear the ambient noise of machinery in the background before what he now recognized as a female voice spoke again.

    “Stand up.”
    Without a second thought he rotated himself into a seated position on the table he’d been on and pushed himself up and off it. Only as the woman walked past him did he begin to realize three things: his name was Wallace, his arms and chest had made distinctly mechanical noises when he moved, and that he was naked. An errant thought crossed his mind, as if saying something about either one or all of those things were wrong, but then Wallace came to the conclusion he should accept his reality. It felt right and correct, as if it had always been this way, after all.

    “Get dressed, pick up your weapons and then follow agent Kerberos to room 272. I’ll be waiting for you there. We’ve got work to do.”
    Once the woman was done speaking Wallace strode over to one of the tables arrayed with clothing and weaponry. He didn’t even think to question as to why he, or for that matter anyone else, was naked. Wallace just knew that this was the way things were, and that this particular table of clothing and weaponry was his. It wasn’t until he began to shift through the clothing that Wallace looked down at his left arm and stopped. The design from his dream, which had been sure should be there, wasn’t on his arm. Wallace knit his brow and frowned with confusion; because he was sure it was old and had a tremendous personal meaning to him.

    After that brief pause Wallace calmly dressed himself in the ensemble of darkly hued clothing and completely ignored anyone else’s preparations. The garments were a nondescript yet perfectly well clothing to fit his physique. Once the clothes were on Wallace laced up the heavy combat boots before strapping on the ballistic vest which had accompanied his pile. This didn’t faze Wallace as having a vest on like that felt so familiar it was almost comfortable. In short order it was concealed by the black faux-leather trench coat that the others seemed to have been assigned as well.

    With his attire in order Wallace checked over the shotgun before slipping the sling to it around his body and sliding home one of the magazines from the orderly stack of them. Once Wallace had seen to that he pulled the weapon out of his way as he next saw to the pistol which had been left for him. After its check over Wallace repeated the process of loading this weapon as he had with the other weapon. However this time Wallace wracked the slide before ejecting the magazine and loading another full one from the smaller stack. After that was taken care of Wallace slid the weapon into a concealed holster in the interior of his jacket, and then slid the spare magazines to his weapons into either pockets or other concealed folds.

    The last magazine to be handled was the one that he’d used to arm the pistol. Next to it was a single bullet which had been left standing next to the pile of ammunition. Until this moment Wallace hadn’t given it any thought whatsoever. Wallace very slowly reached down to pick up the bullet and looked at it for a moment before slotting it into the magazine. After a short moment of though Wallace realized that bullet had been left in the knowledge that he would load that particular pistol in that particular manner. Once again, Wallace frowned slightly, and slipped the magazine into his pocket as he walked out of the lab towards room 212 with the other Agents. Unlike many other things Wallace distinctly remembered how to get there.

  10. #10
    The Replicant
    Azazeal849's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2011
    Location
    UK
    Posts
    6,942
    Mentioned
    68 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    347

    Default

    Following in the wake of the silent Agent Kerberos, the team made their way up a stairwell and through the warren of corridors that comprised the floor above. They passed numerous employees going to and fro about their business, threading their way around stationary security guards wearing black EuroCorp badges. One of the closed doors they passed was flanked by two Agents, who unlike the normal security personnel wore no badges. They were blank faced and utterly immobile, not even shifting from foot to foot as the other guards did. It was a stark contrast to the vibrantly animated river of ordinary humans flowing past them. Only the Agents' eyes moved, following the team as they crossed their field of vision.

    Room 272, when they reached it, looked like one of the building's more modest conference centres. It was dominated by a round-edged table of brushed steel, with holographic projectors mounted in a ring around the centre. The video screen "windows" were dimmed to give better visibility to a holographic face that hovered above the table, rotating slowly in the air. At the head of the table stood Britta Engel in her navy business suit, and two casual-looking men who Agent Kerberos was able to identify as the scientists from earlier.

    “Sit down.” Britta told the Agents once all ten were assembled. As each Agent moved to a chair, small computers in the headrests activated, establishing wireless connections to each Agent's CHIP so that all the information they were about to receive would be streamed directly into their heads. Maps, facial IDs, timescales - all uploaded and stored for the coming mission.

    As she swept her eyes over the Agents, Britta realised that she wasn't entirely sure how to proceed. These Agents' CHIP modifications left them obedient but more self-aware than normal; an uncomfortable half way house between tools to be directed and real people who required tact to deal with. The modifications had been made to allow them to hunt down EuroCorp's missing scientist, Lisa Asari, but the face projected above the table in front of her was not Asari's. Xenakis' men were still trying to locate the scientist, who had vanished after EuroCorp's last, failed attempt to retrieve her. In truth, Britta was grateful for this down time. It enabled her to field test her modified Agents, to see if they could still function as required before they were sent on the mission they had been created for.

    “This is Julian Auffret,” she began, identifying the holographic face. It was the long and strong-boned face of a Caucasian man in his early 50s, grey haired but relatively unlined. “CEO of FusionTech industries. He's lucky enough to be sitting on the world's first commercial nuclear fusion reactor, which is currently under construction near Lille. FusionTech's shares have been going nowhere but up for the last three years and are predicted to skyrocket once the reactor is commissioned next year. Understandably,” she smiled thinly, “Our Energy division wants a piece of that. We've been in negotiations with Auffret and his board for over a year, but he knows exactly what a goldmine he's sitting on and he's stubbornly rejecting every offer of partnership or buy-out we pitch at him. The boss is sick of playing games with Auffret and he's decided it's time for some more aggressive tactics. We're going to bring Auffret in and make him see things our way.”

    She pointed a remote control at the holo-display which switched from a projection of Auffret's face to a 3D model of a business park campus, the walls translucent to reveal the inner detail of corridors and rooms. Even in miniature, it looked daunting. The complex was ringed by a curtain wall studded with guard towers, and the building itself was riddled with checkpoints and reinforced security doors. Getting the floor plans for the building had been easy, Britta recalled, but aquiring details of the security systems had taken significant effort on the part of EuroCorp's industrial espionage teams.

    “Of course, Mr Auffret isn't stupid. He knows that EuroCorp, Sonbushi, Sphinx Inc and every other company wants his new tech. He's hidden the reactor blueprints behind the toughest security imaginable and he's invested considerable capital in turning his own office into a fortress. The building has been made blast resistant and every window is bulletproof up to 50 cal. Getting in there to get at him won't be easy. However, our friends in Defence tell me they have something to make our job much easier.”

    She raised an eyebrow towards the two scientists who were standing quietly nearby, and stepped back to indicate that they should take her place at the head of the table. One of the pair stepped forward, glanced around the table, and cleared his throat.

    “If you look at Agents Trent, Halton and Kerberos, you will notice a small bump in the synthskin under their right wrists. This is the control button for an implanted CHS-44 signal projector - CHS for CHIP Hacking System. It's activated by depressing the stud while pointing the arm at a CHIP-implanted subject within 5 metres…”

    “The Agents,” Britta interrupted gently, “Have already been hardwired with the details of how to operate all their weapons. How does it help us in acquiring Auffret?”

    “The CHS acts as a booster for the Agent's own control signal, which can interfere with the feed of another CHIP into its user's brain. Auffret uses a Dart 5 CHIP, popular with business execs for its enhanced real-time access to the datanet, so we've based the majority of our testing on this, and the results are conclusive. The built-in firewalls on the Dart 5 prevent much remote data access, but the CHS can scramble the data stream from a Dart 5 CHIP, causing random bursts of output that will overwhelm the user's neural pathways. In 95% of cases this caused sensory impairment, moderate siezures and unconsciousness within 3-5 seconds. Basically, you can use it to knock people out. Additionally, we've discovered some interesting efects on the Dart 4 series of CHIPs, the kind that most civilians use. As you know, the perception filters on these CHIPs have the side effect of rendering the user somewhat more open to suggestion. The CHS can exploit this by extending the Agent's control signal to that of the civilian. In theory, while the link is active, you can control them.”

    “We're not sure how far this can be taken at this stage,” put in the other scientist, “Dart 4 CHIPs aren't designed for direct neural override, so there might be some resistance to more extreme commands. From the test's we've done, you shouldn't have trouble getting a Dart 4 user to give you information, or take you somewhere, but we don't know how they'd react if you, say, told them to to pick up a gun and shoot somebody. It'll likely vary from subject to subject.”

    “Like we said,” added the first scientist, “The effects are most pronounced on Dart 4 users, but this still means you can get 80% of the civilian population to do pretty much whatever you want.”

    “We call it the Persuadertron.” the second scientist said brightly.

    “No.” said the first scientist, looking exasperated, “You call it the Persuadertron. And it's a stupid name.”

    “We can talk brand names later.” Britta interrupted again, heading off the argument. “Thank you for your time, gentlemen.”

    She stepped back to the head of the table and took a breath.

    “Right, the complex defences.” She clicked the remote again, and the guard towers spaced around the campus perimeter began to flash red. There were ten of them; two each flanking the northwest and southeast gates, and six more equispaced around the office block's curtain wall. “The perimeter is overlooked by these ten guard towers, Each manned by 2 men who report in every ten minutes. Now we’d like to be able to just fly you over these and drop you onto the building’s roof, but they’d see us coming from an age away and raise an alarm. Any alarm sounds and the building goes into lockdown, and multiple layers of fifteen-centimetre thick blast doors seal off all vital areas of the complex. Even with cybermesh fists and special equipment it would take us hours to get through them, and within that time someone will have responded. Essentially, if the alarm is raised we’ll have to abort the mission.”

    She paused to let that fact sink in.

    “Now the lockdown systems are controlled from two security posts on opposite sides of the first floor.” She clicked her remote again, and now two rooms within the complex itself began to flash. “Either can manually activate the system, and so both must be taken out simultaneously. If you can get the access codes from one of the senior guards using a CHS, then you can deactivate the system. After that, you won’t have to worry about the metal detectors and biometric scanners that are all over the upper floors tripping the lockdown as you move through. Finding and capturing Auffret after that should just be a matter of time.”

    Again, the thin smile ghosted across Britta’s lips.

    “This is what you are going to do. You will be flown to Lille, where unmarked cars will be waiting to take you the rest of the way. We have arranged another negotiation meeting with Auffret and his board for 12pm local time. Carter, Trent,” she turned to the tall blonde Agent and the nondescript one sitting next to him, “You will be our “face” team. Agent Trent will be posing as the EuroCorp representative and Agent Carter as his bodyguard. Now we know that Auffret isn't interested in letting us buy him out, so he'll most likely keep you waiting. Nevertheless, the first thing that will happen is you will be taken through a security checkpoint - obviously your concealed weapons and cybernetics will trip the detectors, so CHIP-hack the guard and instead get him to escort you through the biometric locks to Security Post A. Once you’re there, shut down the security systems.”

    Britta turned to Anderson, the hatchet-faced Agent whose dark hair was beginning to recede at the temples.

    “Agent Anderson - an informant has provided us with the operating frequency of the perimeter guards’ radios, and we will be monitoring them. Carter and Trent will go as soon as we hear them report in. You will need to find a suitable position and, as soon as Carter and Trent are inside, take out all the guards within the 10 minutes before they report in again. I would suggest the high-rise housing block three streets east as a vantage point. The complex is next to a busy road, which should help mask the sound of your rifle, but still you should use a silencer and be careful that none of the guards raise the alarm before the lockdown systems have been deactivated.”

    “Now, Hime and Miller.” She fixed her gaze on the team’s designated stealth specialists. “You will sneak in after Carter and Trent once the perimeter guards are down. You need to reach Security Post B on the west side of the first floor and kill the guards there so they cannot manually trigger the security doors once they are deactivated from Security Post A. This will need to be carefully timed with Carter and Trent's actions, and it all must be done within the same 10 minutes, or the alarms will be raised by the exterior guards not checking in.”

    “The rest of you, you will enter last, after the security doors have been deactivated. Agents Robson, White and Wallace will head for the West Wing of the complex. The West Wing is where most of the nuclear fusion projects are handled, and hence there are a high proportion of security personnel in this block. Sooner or later they’re going to realise that something is up, and you need to prevent them from interfering. Meanwhile, Agents Halton and Kerberos will move to the 3rd floor to detain Auffret. Carter, Trent, Hime and Miller should move to support them once their own tasks are complete. CHIP-hack Auffret and proceed to the landing pad on the roof. Use Auffret’s private helijet to evacuate. If Auffret attempts to escape and gets to the roof before you, then it will be up to Agent Anderson to kill the helijet pilot to keep him on the ground. Kerberos knows how to fly the helijet.”

    Britta pointed her remote at the holo-display a final time, and the projector switched itself off. In response, the fake windows in the walls began to brighten, returning the conference room to its normal light level.

    “Auffret is our priority one target, and he must not be harmed, only detained. All other FusionTech personnel are to be considered expendable. That said, we would prefer it if you kept casualties and collateral damage to a minimum. These people are about to become EuroCorp assets after all. I will be overseeing the operation from one of our command and control zeppelins. We will give you homing co-ordinates once you are airborne and Auffret is confirmed secure.”

    The junior executive paused, realising she was about to say something that she had never before needed to ask a team of Agents. She folded her arms.

    “Any questions?”
    Last edited by Azazeal849; 01-29-2012 at 09:50 AM.
    Spoiler: My RP links 

    PM me for novelised versions of any of my RPs, or ones that I have participated in. Set by the awesome Karma.


Page 1 of 22 123 ... LastLast

Bookmarks

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •