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Electra

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Freedom City Guidebook

Freedom City PBP: A How-To Guide

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  1. Electra
    "Middle of January?" Erin's face went still for a moment as she tried to absorb that. She'd realized on the ringworld that there was a possibility they'd lost time in transit, but she'd thought no more than a few days, not nearly a month! No wonder Trevor was feeling guilty about not catching on. "Those must have been some really convincing doppelgangers," she finally said. "And it's probably just as well we didn't know how long it had been. Would've made me even more nervous about what was going on back home." She sat down in the central command chair, stroking Charlie's fuzzy head and trying to put her thoughts in order. "I guess we missed a lot more than we thought, then. What, um... what did she do, she and you? What was she like?"
  2. Electra
    "That's not a problem, just take my hand." Fleur was as good as her word, and half a dozen steps later, Tona had the interesting experience of being swallowed up by a giant red nasturtium blossom. There was a moment of overwhelming greenness and the scent of fresh pine, and suddenly they were stepping out into a winter meadow on the edge of a dense forest. Not too far away, perhaps a quarter-mile, was a small village composed of equal parts prefabricated steel buildings and rough-hewn log cabins. Smoke rose from the chimneys and the air held a wintry bite, but Tona could spot a surprising number of growing green plants alongside the winter hibernators. The large garden next to the village, especially, seemed to be flourishing improbably well for the weather, as was the lush grass inside the pens that housed sheep, goats, and a handful of cows. "Welcome to Sanctuary," Fleur told her, a hint of pride in her voice. "This is the human village, where we've been having all the trouble. Would you like to have the tour first, or would you rather take a moment to warm up? I could get you a cup of coffee or tea, some cookies. Have you had lunch yet?"
  3. Electra
    Gina patted Steve's face lightly. "Things on Earth were mostly contained by the time we left," she assured him. "We had a bead on who all the robots were, got them contained, and then it was just a matter of mopping up the damage. Except..." She hesitated for a moment, frowning at nothing. "There was a Curator ship, one of the larger droneships, parked over the North Pole. I got a message from Sharl that he and Young Freedom were going to try and face it down. I assumed they succeeded when the robots spontaneously destructed themselves. But I'm sure now that something bad happened to Sharl. When I was in the Curator's mainframe, there were... it's hard to explain to someone who doesn't see code the way I do. There were pieces of him mixed in with the pieces of Curator. Like a viral payload, almost, but made up of essential code. As soon as we get back, we need to find out what happened."
  4. Electra
    "Oh no," Fleur assured her. "I just use plants for travel. I live in an alternate dimension called Sanctuary, and that's where I'm having a bit of a problem. You see, it's a bit of a fixer-upper world, but I've got a nice chunk of it all set up and habitable by now. There's a refugee village there, but for the past couple of weeks, they've been losing livestock from the pens and fields at night. We haven't imported any predators, and the local dragon swears up and down that she hasn't been snacking, so I just don't know what it could be. I'm worried that there might be a life form on the planet that we don't know about yet, and if it could take a cow or goat, it could take a person eventually. I'm hoping that someone with a bit more survivalist skill can have a look and tell me what we're dealing with. I hope it won't take too long, and I'll have you back here tomorrow."
  5. Electra
    She wasn't left to wait and wonder for very long; within minutes, one of the trees nearby began to stir as though shaken by a wind that did not touch its fellows. Moments later, one of the branches began to unfurl green leaves, then sprouted an acorn which quickly grew all out of proportion to the branch it was hanging from. It grew to the size of a beach ball, then an earth ball,then quite improbably popped in a cloud of pollen and nutmeat. Out of the cloud stepped a woman, quite unscathed, who paused a moment to arrange herself after the trip without even bothering to look around and assess the situation for potential threats. She was a small, soft woman, one who looked like she'd be more at home teaching nursery school than saving the world, but she was certainly dressed like a hero. A closer look by Tona's practiced eye revealed that the costume was almost entirely brand-new, the green tunic and pants still stiff with starch, the brown hooded cowl not even a little broken in. After brushing herself off, the woman finally thought to look around, and immediately noticed Tona waiting for her. "Hello!" she said cheerfully, stepping forward and offering her hand. "You must be Blue Jay. I'm Fleur de Joie. Duncan Summers assured me that you're an excellent tracker, and just the person to assist me with a problem I've been having. I hope I'm not putting you out?"
  6. Electra
    "Piece of cake," Erin assured him. "The Curator didn't seem to want us dead, just under control. He dropped us down in some weird clone version of Freedom City, but one that had been cloned after some disaster emptied it out. Nothing alive, but tons of food and supplies just there for the taking. And maybe it was a little bit too close to home sometimes," she admitted, "but having a team helped.It was worse for Quickstep. She got taken earlier, all by herself, and almost starved before we got there. She's just a kid, too, so it was hard on her. But hey, we'll get her back to her parents in time for Christmas, give her a few sessions with Dr. Marquez, she should be okay." Erin broke off suddenly when a movement on the lower bridge caught her eye. She'd barely had time to pivot when she was attacked by a ball of crying orange fur that attached itself to her pant leg in an implacable grip. "Charlie!" she exclaimed with delight, carefully disengaging the kittens claws and scooping him into her arms. "You got to come along too, huh? You didn't start talking while I was gone, did you? I'm not sure I could handle that." Charlie disclaimed any knowledge of such an ability by purring loudly and rubbing his chin against her fingers while she scritched him. "Both my favorite guys came to rescue me. Pretty good deal."
  7. Electra
    The close quarters in the control room meant that Gina sitting across Steve's lap, but for once she didn't mind. It was just such a relief to be somewhere quiet, somewhere private, with him and away from all the strangers filling the ship. She rested her head against his chest and listened to the strange metallic thrumming of his augmented heart beating behind its shell of metal. Odd she'd never noticed before what a reassuring sound it was. "I did it to myself," sort of," she admitted in answer to his question. "The robot duplicates the Curator made of all of you were set to turn bad all at once, to maximize the chaos it would create. Gabriel and Miss A were in Blackstone Prison with your replica. He killed the Shadivan Steelgrave clone imprisoned there, and tried to detonate the nuclear reactor that powers the prison. To stop him, I ordered the security staff to blanket the prison with a high-powered EMP blast. It worked, but it destroyed the Miss A robot too. The feedback was pretty intense, blew out some blood vessels and gave me a hell of a headache." She winced at the memory. "When I came to, Dragonfly was standing over me, so I guess you know how fun that was. When my vital signs got weird, the automated systems in my house issued a distress call. You and Sharl weren't available-" and here she tensed slightly, "so when those calls failed, Dragonfly was third on the list. But she at least knew what was going on, and that it was the Curator behind everything. She needed help analyzing the robots, so... so I went." Gina took a deep breath. "It had to be done. But now I really, really, really want to go home." She lifted a hand to touch his face very lightly. "What about you? Are you okay? Was it very dangerous where you were?"
  8. Electra
    Erin made a rude noise to dismiss the apology, smiling as she closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him. "What, you wanted to cut short my first vacation in four years?" She cut off any further self-recrimination with the simple expedient of sliding a hand up into his hair and kissing him breathless. When she finally broke off to let him breathe, it was to rest her forehead against his cheek and just hold on for a few moments. "I was scared at first," she admitted. "When I realized we weren't on Earth anymore and I had no idea what was going on back at home. But I realized I didn't have to worry because you wouldn't stop until you found me, even if I couldn't get back by myself. And here you are, flying our spaceship and everything."
  9. Electra
    Gina startled for a moment at the contact, not an unusual reaction for her, then curled her fingers into his shirt and hung on tightly. After the kind of day she'd had already, the declaration that had sent her running a few weeks ago was barely enough to faze her. In fact, maybe it was even a little bit nice to hear. "Miss A is broken," she murmured when they'd broken the kiss, turning her head to hide her face in his neck. "But I couldn't leave you out here alone. Just... can we get off the bridge someplace? I can't take much more of this." There were way too many people on a ship this size, and with Steve rescued, there wasn't a mission to focus on. "I just want to get home." At her side, Emerson peeped for attention, pointing helpfully in the direction of the tiny sensor control room off the bridge. It was barely big enough for two people to sit on the floor, but it had a door that would close, which was the main concern.
  10. Electra
    "Thank you for all your help," Erin told the Lor crewmen, pausing for just a moment at the hatch after Ellie made her spectacular exit. "You helped us save a lot of lives today. If you do ever come by Earth, just ask for the Liberty League." With that she stepped through the hatch and onto a ship that was surprisingly familiar. She'd had no chance for looking out windows, but she'd worked on this interior herself not that long ago. Because she knew where to go, because she saw Dorothy and the others being taken care of, she lost no time covering the short distance from the rear causeway to the command area, not even bothering with the nicety of the ladder that led up there. With one bounce, she was standing on the bridge, eyes only for one person. "There's not many guys," she said, "who could take a seventy-five year old spaceship out of mothballs, fly it across the galaxy, and use it to scare the living hell out of a whole Grue squadron without firing a shot." She spent a moment drinking him in, dressed all for business now, but that didn't matter when her mind so easily filled in the face behind the blank mask, the always-tousled black hair under the fedora, the lean body under the long coat. All at once, her throat threatened to close up, making her swallow hard. "It's so good to see you."
  11. Electra
    <Good luck!> Gina called to Vince, then took him at his word and flew for the exit. The worst effects of the gun were neutralized, and Vince seemed more than capable of handling himself amongst the mostly barely-sentient programs that serviced the Curator's stronghold. He'd probably be running the place in forty-eight hours. She herself had other priorities right now. Launching herself back across the cold vacuum of space, she tumbled through the Nightdragon's Redbird-infused computer network and thudded back into the bruised and tired sluggishly-responsive meat of her physical body. "They're out," she reported without moving or opening her eyes. "They're on their way right now. They uploaded an alternate version of the Interceptors' team AI into the mainframe, he's going to stabilize things for the moment. Not sure how it'll all shake out in the long run. But I think my sidekick is dead." She rested her head against the back of her chair and wrapped her fingers tightly around the armrests, eyes squeezed shut as though against a bright light. "Bits and pieces of him all over the Curator's program."
  12. Electra
    Deep inside the massive computer, Gina looked over the programs that controlled the Curator's complicated digitization guns. They were loaded for bear and already aiming for one of the Grue ships. <We can't let the beam digitize that ship,> she told Vince, even as she began digging into the code. <For a hive mind like the Grue, being digitized and forever cut off from the Unity would be torture, and they'd just die off anyway. If we're going to fight them, let's do it clean.> Working on a system like this was tiring, but more because it was strange and she was under so much stress than because it was complicated. Really all that had to be done was turning off the part of the gun that digitized the information, while allowing the part that vaporized the physical components to fire. <I've got to get back to the ship ASAP, she told Vince as she completed the work. <Are you going to be okay here? It'll be some time before the Curator is up and running again. This place needs an AI to keep things running and take care everything. Tough job though, and lonely. You going to be able to handle it?>
  13. Electra
    All right, since Grue are acceptable targets, killing them is okay. But because Grue are a hive mind, digitizing them and cutting them off forever from the Unity is basically torture, and that is bad even on acceptable targets. So! Transform 15 (one program to another program) (Extra: Range [Perception], Flaw: Action [Full], Distracting) {30/37} Gina uses Extra Effort for a power stunt that will turn off the digitizing portion of the gun while allowing the vaporizing part of the gun to continue functioning. Hopefully that will continue to dissuade Grue and other unfriendlies from visiting while not adding to the Curator's collection.
  14. Electra
    Better pop Gina into the initiative order here.... She goes on 27.
  15. Electra
    "We're right behind you," Wander promised, then nodded towards Beekeeper. "You next." As the apian-themed hero went through the portal after Blue Jay, Wander kept a close eye on the room, waiting to see whether it would unleash its defenses. If Miss Americana was in the computer system along with Vince they might be safe, but then again, those two might be occupied with the Grue fleet that the Lor had promised were on their way. It was better to stay alert. She kept her bat out and ready, gleaming silver in the flashing emergency lights. "All right," she said when Beekeeper was gone, "You're next, Harrier." Her voice suggested she'd brook no argument on this one. "If you have to suit up, use your projector," she reminded him. They didn't need any more misunderstandings.
  16. Electra
    Fleur de Joie Benediction “Don't try to move yet, just lay still and let them put you on the stretcher. You're going to be fine.†Fleur de Joie smiled reassuringly and patted the young woman's hand as the EMTs approached with their equipment. “She's got broken ribs, a lot of bruising, but the punctured lung is fixed up, I think,†she told them. “Check her legs, I didn't have time to do anything there.†The EMTs acknowledged the information even as they carefully loaded the victim and carried her away from the rubble that had once been a three story commercial building. Aside from Freedom Hall itself, it was the worst scene Stesha had seen today. A fight between two fliers, she didn't even know who, had compromised the structural integrity of the second floor, causing it to collapse and take the rest of the building with it. Only the fact that people had already been fleeing from the fight had kept casualties from being much higher, but it was plenty bad enough. Fleur had been on scene with the League for over an hour already and they were still pulling people out. As soon as the EMTs were safely away, she let the smile fall off her face and took a moment to draw herself into a ball with her head on her knees. She was not cut out to deal with this kind of violence, this kind of mass trauma. All she wanted, more than anything, was to be home on Sanctuary with Amaryllis in her arms and Derrick holding the both of them. That scenario was about as likely as someone rewinding time to undo this whole scenario, which was to say highly unlikely though not outside the realm of possibilities, and useless to think too hard about anyway. She still had a lot to do. Straightening up, she drew another handful of seeds from the dwindling supply in her pouch and began forcing them as she made her way to where the rescue crews had congregated. A young man so fresh-faced that Fleur couldn't tell if he'd even gotten into Claremont yet was using a glowing field of telekinesis to shift debris away from another pair of victims while the rescue workers pulled them to safety. As soon as they were clear, Fleur knelt down to get to work. The two victims were young, probably in their twenties, and in the inexpensive but trendy clothes that said they were most likely college students out shopping. The woman was in stable condition, at least, unconscious from concussion but not actively bleeding internally or externally. The man, though, she realized with a touch, was just beyond her help. Still warm, still pliant, but help for him had come a little too late. An unaccountable and furious wave of frustration swamped Fleur. How could she be everywhere at once? She'd done everything she possibly could, teleported all over the city to put out fires of one sort and another, healed until she had no supplies and precious little strength left, and still she was failing! It wasn't fair! Letting the seedlings fall from her fingers, she slapped her hands against the corpse's still chest as though he were the cause of all today's calamities. Power shot through her fingertips, the sort of raw energy she used when she wanted to grow a lot of plants all at once, making her hands feel hot and giving her a metallic taste at the back of her throat. A waste of energy, she chastised herself, on a day when she had none to spare. People weren't plants, you couldn't make them live by wanting it badly enough. But then, even as she watched, the chest expanded under her hands, lungs sucked in a breath and expelled it. Within seconds, the deathly pallor of his face gave way to living color, and the heart she could feel beneath her palms fluttered and beat once again. Snatching her hands back as though they'd been burned, Stesha stared at the unmistakably living victim and wondered if somehow her judgment had been wrong. Maybe he'd only been very nearly dead, surely that had to be the answer. Nobody else seemed to have noticed anything, not that it was easy to see detail anyway in the heart of the disaster. But you just didn't raise the dead without someone noticing and making a fuss about it! The man moaned with the pain of his injuries, and she shook herself back into work mode. There was no sense in saving a life, however you did it, if you weren't going to take care of it. She'd just have to save the rest of it to think about later. As it turned out, by the time she got home, some six hours later, she was too tired to think about a doggone thing. Life found a way, she told herself as she tumbled into exhausted sleep.
  17. Electra
    Papercut Silver Wings It had been a very quiet trip back to Claremont for the surviving members of Young Freedom. After the bioweapons were offloaded and Erde-Tronik was plugged in as best they could get it with the help of the surviving Centuritrons, there hadn't seemed to be much left to say. Sharl's holoemitter lay on one of the back benches, dark and silent now with no image projected. Koshiro had turned it off before they got on the bus, because it seemed too horrible to keep projecting that empty, half-formed shell when nothing was inside to animate it. He thought maybe some of the girls had cried on the trip back, but he hadn't. He hadn't been able to think of a single comforting thing to say, either. Instead, he had folded. Crease, open, turn, crease, fold, fold, twist... The motions were repetitive, almost hypnotic after awhile. Useful too, since no more than a dozen dozen of his cranes were left after the back-to-back missions to Erde and the Sanctum. Jamming up electronics was a very useful trick, but when it involved flying straight into the fans of giant computers and fleets of helicopters, the paper destruction rate was high. Koshiro'd finished a score of cranes during the trip, folding till his fingers cramped, but had made barely a dent in the losses. They'd finally arrived back on campus, after the worst of the mess was mostly taken care of. Koshiro wasn't sure what he'd expected, anything from arrest to simple debriefing, but instead there had been nothing. Everyone had been off doing other things, nobody so much as acknowledged that Young Freedom was back on campus, much less what they'd done. With no better ideas, Koshiro had picked up the holoemitter and taken it back to his room, where he'd set it on Sharl's bed, then kept folding. Flip, crease, fold, fold, crimp the wings, turn the beak. They said if you folded a thousand paper cranes, you could make magic happen, have a wish come true. Koshiro knew the truth of that saying, he remembered the thousand cranes he'd folded in juvie, and getting his powers as he finished the last one. That seemed like sort of a one-time event, though. Even if it weren't, what could he wish for now? That Sharl wasn't dead? That Summers hadn't been turned into some weird robot and sent them to the Sanctum in the first place? That they'd just stayed in Erde for another day? None of it even made sense, so how could he know what might have averted this mess? The room was starting to get dark by now, the short day bleeding into dusk that was leavened by distant street lights. The sirens outside were growing fainter and further between, a sign that the city was beginning to return to normal. In the dimness, Koshiro's eyes were drawn to the flickering abstract design of the screensaver on Sharl's laptop, twisting and folding in on itself eternally without even a crane to show for it. Unaccountably irritated, Koshiro jumped up and jostled the laptop, turning off the screensaver as the computer hummed back to life. He was startled to be greeted by a cheerful woof and a screenful of grinning doggy face. “Oh, Lora,†he said dumbly. “Forgot about you. Crap. What do I do with you?†He moved the trackpad, clicked the buttons that filled the dog's bowl with virtual food, just like Sharl had showed him months ago in case it was ever needed. “Guess I'll take you to Miss Americana or something. She'll know what to do. God, what do we tell her? What are we supposed to tell his family?†His thoughts raced unbidden to his own family, and how it might have been if things had gone a bit differently and someone was having to go tell them they'd lost another son. The idea was unbearably painful, so he forced himself not to think about it. Instead he watched the virtual dog eat, then made sure the door to the virtual backyard was unlatched for her. His obligations fulfilled, he went back to his desk and kept right on folding. Such a large absence in the ranks would not be easy to fill.
  18. Electra
    Wander Ice and Silence and Dark Skies “Here, you finish this up, I'm not hungry.†Erin passed her plate, still half-full of beef stew and cornbread, over to Dorothy. The young teen had inhaled her own portion as though she hadn't eaten for a week, which wasn't that far away from accurate. Erin remembered her own first days of learning to survive, how frightening it had been, how sometimes a single poor judgment call could mean no food for a night, whether it was from not going the right way to find a store or from spoiling a meal trying to cook it. Dorothy had been fending only for herself, but she'd also had no idea what was happening, no time to adjust to losing everything. Erin liked to think that Dorothy would've figured something out if they hadn't come along, but it was really just as well the team from HAX had found her. She was already losing the pinched cheeks and desperate hunger of the first couple of days. “Thanks,†Dorothy accepted the plate and dug in, hitching her coat a little closer around her shoulders. They'd hit up a mall on the outskirts of Phia that had netted them clothes and camping supplies enough to fill their bus, if not to strain Baxter's flight capabilities. Between Erin and Tona, they were most likely overprepared, but it beat the alternative. She herself had traded in her dirty uniform for a set of sturdy coveralls over jeans and a turtleneck sweater, while Dorothy was wearing long johns under jeans under coveralls under a puffy down coat. With the fire going, it was nearly comfortable, even in December... or January, or whenever this was. Easier not to think about that. “We gonna get to Chicago tomorrow?†Dorothy asked, her mouth half-full. “Yeah, we're not far from there,†Erin replied. “We might've made it tonight, but I don't like setting up camp in strange cities at night.†“Why not?†Dorothy asked. “Cities are where all the stuff is, right? And we could get an early start.†Erin shrugged. “You never know what you're going to find in a city,†she temporized. It didn't seem necessary to admit that it was a holdover from a time when cities were traps full of zombies. “Just because things were one way in Freedom City and in Philadelphia doesn't mean they'll keep being like that. There could be other survivors somewhere, and they might not be happy to see us. You saw whath happened with Baxter and Tona. Everyone is on edge, and we don't want to start a fight by barging in during the night.†“Yeah, I guess,†Dorothy said, nodding. She was silent for a minute, polishing off the food while Erin used sand and water from a bottle to scrub out the cast iron skillet they'd made the bread in. “It's gonna be dark soon, maybe I could go get some more firewood before everyone else gets back from their chores?†“No!†Erin snapped, with a fervor entirely unsuited to the question. As Dorothy stared, she shook herself, managed a trace of a smile. “Sorry. We've got enough wood for now, and I don't want you getting too far from camp. You're our escape route if the Curator decides to grab us up again. You wanna help, pack up that stew and rinse out the pot. We'll have it for breakfast.†Dorothy still looked confused, but she did as she was told. Erin could only be grateful for that. There was no way she could've explained to Dorothy how this empty world brought back memories of her most painful failure, one she was determined not to repeat. Things were different now, and she wasn't going to make any mistakes. Much later in the night, in the dark cold hours just before dawn, Erin climbed out of her sleeping bag in the tent she shared with Ellie, Tona and Dorothy. Her internal clock told her she'd be on watch soon anyway, and there was no point in laying around not sleeping. As she left the tent, she waved a hand to Baxter keeping watch on the hill, then headed in the opposite direction a little ways. A quarter mile from camp, she found a ridge overlooking the water and sat down crosslegged. The sky without moon or stars was still unnerving, but at least the fog obscured the vertiginous view of the rest of the Curator's ringworld. How far away was fifty light years, anyway? It seemed like a very long way. Could a spaceship really get that far in any reasonable time? Trevor would know. He would also know how to fix up a spaceship when they found it, and probably even how to pilot it. She wished he was there. She wished he was there for a lot of reasons. What was he doing now, back on earth? Had he discovered the Curator's deception? Was he looking for her even now? And who was taking care of Charlie? She just had to get home, and the sooner the better. Chicago had better have some answers for them.
  19. Electra
    "Well, that doesn't sound very good," Wander muttered as the computer began stirring to life. "I wonder how long a reboot in protected mode takes. You in there yet, Vince? What does it look like?" As she spoke, she drew out her bat, wondering if it would even be useful against whatever defenses the control module had cooked up. She was more than a little surprised when the voice that came through the speakers was neither VINCE nor the Curator, but the comforting friendly voice that put Erin to sleep when she left the television tuned to the local educational channel at night. ' "What's she doing here?" Wander wondered aloud, then shrugged. "There's not really anything more we can do here anyway. Can you get us out?" she asked the Lor crewmen.
  20. Electra
    <Cyberknife,> Gina introduced herself briefly, most of her attention on the strange amalgamation of Curator parts and repair drones. <And I'm not sure yet,> she admitted. <It looks like something must have happened to the Curator on Earth; I see the handiwork of a friend of mine here. He may have had something in mind. First let me try and move the softbodies along.> It wasn't hard to find a line into the speaker system, and trivial to project Miss Americana's soothing voice through it. "Hello there, Harrier, other abductees, just wanted to let you know the cavalry has arrived and is waiting for you outside. Vince and I will take care of the computer system here, if you want to make your way with all possible speed to the nearest exit. We've got some Grue visitors in-system and sticking around is not a wise idea." With that said, she turned her attention back to the mass of half-formed Curator. <This is some kind of automated repair program>, she told Vince, <the secret to the Curator's immortality. He seems to have come off very much the worse in a fight, but these subroutines are designed to get him functional again without resorting to backup copies.> She "moved" into the morass of robots, trying to get a better look at the stamped pieces. <This is Citizen's work,> she told Vince, though she may have mostly been speaking aloud to herself. <But he shouldn't be capable of cyberkinesis on this level. And the code...> She stopped and puzzled over the patches she read on the pieces of programming. The analytical part of her mind read the binary code and translated it into sophisticated programming language, the creative part saw her own coding work, the rather clever bits and bytes she'd used to bound in Sharl's programming and adapt him to Earth's computer system, now ragged-edged and slapped here and there along with dense tangles of Tronikian code. If she let her mind get too creative, those codes began to resolve themselves into fragments of torn uniform and even... She pulled back, forcing herself to not get too picturesque, and focused instead on the code. <He's not a cyberkinetic, but he managed to access his own raw data, used it to corrupt the Curator and change its directives. It ripped itself apart from the internal contradictions.> She was silent for a little while, bare seconds that ticked by in the outside world stretching out greatly in the speed-up electronic world. <I think we should let it proceed,> she said finally. <The rebuilding process will take quite some time, but it will force a resolution of those contradictions. It may well force a chance in the Curator's behavior. If we stop the process now, we're likely to see a backup restore instead, without even a chance for change. Citizen gave his life for this, we ought to let it play out and see what happens. In the meantime, let's see if we can get the external defenses up and running before the Grue blow us all to smithereens.>
  21. Electra
    "I can do it," Gina blurted suddenly. spinning in her chair to face, sort of, the others. "I can go help them. The Curator's communication network is still operational, I can use it and be in the station in a few seconds. Just keep the wolves at bay till I figure out what they're trying to do in there and how to do it. Emerson," she ordered the little robot, who obediently trundled over. "Watch my body." Just like that, she slumped in her seat, her head lolling forward. The voice that came over the bridge speakers was much stronger and self-assured, not to mention considerably more familiar to anyone who followed heroes or watched television in Freedom City. "You should have the element of surprise on your side, the Grue won't expect a ship this size to be heavily armed. They'll concentrate on the Lor cruiser first. It's an advantage. Good luck." With that, Gina took a deep metaphorical breath and launched herself into space, riding the thin silver web of communications that connected the massive ringworld with its command structure. Despite her disembodied state, she swore she could feel the cold against her skin in the moments before she reached the giant gray sphere and slipped inside. The networks of the manufactured world were like a ghost town, broad paths that should've been crowded with data were all but empty... except for a mass of data growing in the distance. She angled towards it, hoping it would lead her where she needed to go.
  22. Electra
    Erin jolted as Blue Jay suddenly loosed her arrow into the nonfunctional Curator bot, then cursed as the security alarms began to come up. "Yes, Dr. Stratos," she said sardonically, "It seems someone else had your idea about security systems not tied to the main power grid." She spare Blue Jay one look of pure annoyance, then was all business. "Beekeeper, Blue Jay, take Dr. Stratos and the Lor crewmen and try to get out of the main chamber before the doors shut. If you can get to where the lights aren't on, you should be safe. Harrier, help me find the universal access port like the one on the drone ship. It's got to be around here somewhere." She wasn't entirely confident about either of their ability to withstand a barrage of whatever security the Curator had on tap, but the odds were a lot better for them than for the others in the group. Racing to the nearest bank of holoprojectors, she ran her flashlight beam along the surface, looking for the port.
  23. Electra
    Gina shrank down smaller into her seat as first Dorothy, then Jill came onto the viewscreen and got themselves a look at the flying saucer. She was glad to see them alive and well, of course, but not so glad that they could see back, a problem that was only going to get worse with more and more and more people coming on board. She squared her shoulders and tried to speak, but couldn't bring herself to draw any attention from the screen. She was quite familiar with Jack of all Blade's cutting sense of humor, and suspected his sidekick would have a similar way of dealing with people. Gina didn't really want to spend the rest of the mission under the console and doubting her life choices. Instead, she tapped a message into the console that crawled to life on the screen below Jill's picture. Doesn't make sense for Curator to leave ringworld untenanted just for Earth. Either unprecedented situation or massive trap. Either way, no abductee engineers. They'll need help.
  24. Electra
    Gina, too, was entirely boggled by the size and scope of the ringworld, a phenomenon many orders of magnitude larger than any constructed object she'd ever seen. Simply hearing about it had done nothing to prepare her for the scale of the place, which made the Earth entire seem like the blue marble some people called it. Finally she found her voice, or at least enough of it to make herself heard over the hum of machinery. "Activating the locator beacon..." She picked up her makeshift device, slightly strengthened during the hours of the trip, and thumbed it on. "He's in there," she said more loudly, unmistakable relief in her voice. "And still active. He's about five hundred miles from that ship, near the center of the control structure. If we can get closer, we can try to communicate with him."
  25. Electra
    Wander drew her bat with a subtle movement, holding it collapsed and hidden behind her hand as she studied the mad weather controller. "Dr. Stratos," she said with reasonable politeness. "I heard you'd been brought here from Earth too. It's been a long time now, hasn't it?" She nodded to Harrier, who still wore his knapsack full of supplies. "We have food and water here, and we'll happily share some with you. That's how it works, right? When the situation is bad enough and the enemy is big enough, heroes and villains work together." A quick look around the chamber was enough to confirm how much of it was metal, and how messy things would get if he started slinging lighting. "We have a plan to get back to Earth," she told him. "We're going to get into the computer and program it so we can get back safely in a ship. We'll take you with us," she promised, "but you have to stand down and let us work. Harrier will get you something to eat."
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