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Hot and Bothered (IC)


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Predator

 

Jean nodded as Lyong spoke. She had met her own share of crackpots and mad scientists in her time before arriving in Freedom.

 

At the mention of the new drug her ears perked forward. It sounded very dangerous 

…and very familiar.

 

“Has Dr. North been involved in any cloning projects?”

She asked .

“Because I think things may be becoming much more serious.”

 

Jean gives Lyong a serious look.

“After I tell you what brought me here, you may need to contact whomever is in charge in Dr North’s absence.”

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GM

 

Lyong raised both ragged eyebrows. She obviously didn't attend to her personal appearance, despite (or arguably because) of her otherwise handsome features. 

 

"Cloning?! Why, never. All cloning is carefully regulated. WEST is totally aware of the dangers of cloning."

 

She sighed, shoulders deflated, head down. "Although, frankly, its done. Supervillains, rouge states, unscruplous coorperations. Its done. It doesn't help since some cloning is actually vital biomedical research and application. Its actually my speciality. Can you imagine if you could grow a new liver, a new spleen? And we are not far off that. Its not some pipe-dream. As long as its properly regulated..."

 

She sighed again. 

 

"...and there lies the rub. Half the time, maybe more, its not."

 

"If Doctor North is unavailable, then its field leaders who take over command of the station until we assign a replacement. So. Ah. Um. I guess that's me..."

 

Pride and fear fought a vigorous battle across the battlefield of her face. 

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Predator

 

Jean gave the woman a long look before nodding.

“Very well.”

 

“To put it short and to the point.”

Jean motioned to the small case of samples she had brought.

“When you have a chance to examine the samples yourself. You will find samples of flesh and a chemical substance that seemed to induce effects not unlike the ‘Synthetic’ you described.”

As she spoke Jean produced a flash drive.

“This is a recording of events earlier this morning which prompted my initial inquiries.”

She held it out to Lyong.

“On it, you will see a Dr North arrive at the door to my laboratory this morning and my welcoming him in.”

She emphasized the ‘a’ before Dr North.

“He begins acting strangely and I attempt to subdue him before he begins growing hot to the touch. I attempt to stabilize the man, but ultimately failed to.”

Jean motioned to the case of samples.

“As near as I could determine the flesh is not actually human. So I have no reason to think the real Dr North is not still alive.”

 

“I also manage to cobble together this.”

Jean produced the ‘Fleshometer’.

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GM

 

Lyong dutifully put the flashdrive in and wrestled with her over-zealous anti-virus software. Eventually, the camera footage popped up and she studied it with ever widening eyes and ever-slackening jaw. 

 

She actually yelped when "Dr North" exploded. 

 

"That... was that Doctor North? It can't be..."

 

She checked the sludge of data that Predator had provided. 

 

"No... its not. Not even close. Doesnt behave like him, cellular structure completely wrong. Just a very good copy - at least to the eye."

 

Her mind grappled with the ramifications. 

 

"If someone is creating explosive clones, then its going to open up a whole new world of terrorism..." she gulped. "Or worse. Biological warfare... diseases. Nobody is safe. Hell, they may have infiltrated WEST already..."

 

Her eyes grew even wider, her breathing escalated, and she clutched her chest...

 

"Maybe I am one... ugh... my heart...."

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Predator

 

“Calm down.”

Jean said slowly.

“I don’t believe you have a reason to panic.”

Lifting the scanner she had built, she used it to scan Lyong. Her face, a mask of calm.

 

The process was quick and Jean was confident in the results.

“The scan says you’re fine. But if it would make you feel better. We can run a test.”

She placed a hand on Lyong’s shoulder, attempting to reassure her.

 

“If you have security concerns though. Arranging tests on all staff, in all branches may help.”

Jean tapped her chin.

“Don’t mention the possibility of exploding though. It can cause a panic. Perhaps something more benign, some new flu or virus.”

 

The vixen gave a thoughtful look.

“Also, if possible, check if Dr North’s ID has been used to access anything ‘important’ or ‘restricted’ recently.”

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  • 2 weeks later...

GM

 

"No reason to panic! Isn't that what someone would say just before the meteor destroys the earth?" said Lyong, wringing her hands. 

 

"Sorry, sorry. I'm out of my depth here. But if I can help, i will..."

 

She sat down by her computer and started zipping through the WEST computer. She knew what she was doing. 

 

"Unless someone is very good at covering their tracks, or has hacked into our network, nobody has been using Doctor North's official I.D. Probably wise, its biometrically linked. So basically only a clone or an tech whizz could use it. But his regular passport, yeah. Somebody pinged that on an internal flight from Alaska to Freedom City. Less than a day ago."

 

She pulled up airport security. There, in low-res herz, was what looked like Doctor North passing through airport security. A bit sweaty, agitated, perhaps. Just like... whatever had exploded in front of Jean. 

 

 

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Predator

 

“Of course.”

She said reassuringly.

“Take a moment.”

 

Jean regarded the screen from over Loyng’s shoulder. She watched the slightly grainy image of ‘Dr North’ as the person(?)… the entity(?)… the thing passed through the airport.

 

She made a ‘hmm’ noise then stood up.

“I suppose I should go to Alaska and investigate this myself.”

 

She patted Loyng on the shoulder.

“Can I ask you to keep an eye out for anything unusual?”

She asked.

“I can give you a secure contact line to reach me.”

 

Jean rubs her chin.

“Now, I just have to secure travel there.”

She remarked and pulled out her phone and began scrolling through her contacts.

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GM

 

And so...

 

...In a military plane, entering Alaskan Air Space....

 

The plane was small and spartan, but fast and armoured. A small military recon plane, propellor based, designed for long flights at high altitude. It was not quiet inside, and the body of the plane juddered. 

 

Two military pilots were at the cockpit. 

 

One soldier, catching some sleep. 

 

A captain, boots up, unable to sleep. 

 

Both armed with light pistols. 

 

The captain shuffled again. "Damn it, too much coffee..." he complained, snapping his eyes open from insomnia. He raised an eyebrow at Jean. 

 

"Pardon me. I ain't ever seen nothing like you, mister, er... ma'am. Dang, sorry. Not used to the fur."

 

He held his hands up in apology. 

 

"Sorry. We got pulled into this last minute. Favour for WEST. Favour for the Patriot. Whatever, seemed mighty important for national security. Must be some mighty strange mission. Mind telling us what this is all about?"

Edited by Supercape
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Predator

 

Jean sat in her seat as comfortably as she could. Having a tail often had its drawbacks, seating was often one of them.

 

When the captain spoke she looked up from her datapad. She spared him and offered a friendly smile.

“It's alright captain, I understand. This was rather ‘last minute’ for myself.”

She considered him for a moment.

 

This wasn’t an official mission as far as the government or military were concerned. There were no ‘eyes-only’ or ‘need to know’ mandates. But she didn’t think it safe to be completely forthwith, so she opted for an abridged rundown.

“There is a potential danger. A high ranking official within WEST may be in danger from an as yet unidentified threat. He is supposed to be on a research mission in Alaska. After some concerning developments, I have volunteered to look into the matter. Hopefully, before it has to become an ‘official problem’ for national security.”

 

She gave the captain a smirk and chuckled.

“I can only assume they are happy to let me try first. It allows for greater deniability and hopefully lower budget costs.”

Jean joked.

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GM

 

The Captain gave out a warm laugh. "Lower budget costs. That always goes down well with the brass!"

 

The private gave an unpleasant snort, rolled to one side in an uncomfortable position, sweat on his brow. 

 

"They splash out on a plane, and send me some idiot soldier..." sighed the Captain. "Looks like he would be as much use in a fight as a sardine sandwich," he frowned. "Back in my day cut soldiers from steel... huh..."

 

The Captain was probably late thirties. Not that old. Still in shape, but with lines and creases that told Jean he had been in battle. 

 

The speakers crackled with a message from the pilot. "Making last descent. Its chilly and windy, and a touch of snow. So buckle up!"

 

The private snorted once again, muscles tense. 

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Predator

 

Jean smiled at the officer then regarded the private.

“I try not to judge until I have evidence.”

She gave the nervous looking solider a nod before turning her attention to the captain.

 

The speakers crackled to life and Jean’s demeanor shifted slightly. She sat up straighter and checked her buckles.

“Well now, I hope you packed warm clothing.”

 

On the ground Jean stood from her seat.

There was a shimmer in the air around her, the subtle sound of air being displaced and the Predator armor appeared around her.

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GM

 

"5 minutes to landing..." came the call. 

 

The snoozing private started shaking violently. 

 

"Godamn it, he's having a seizure!" roared the concerned captain rushing over. In but a heartbeat he was flung across the aircraft interior, collapsing in a heap against the dented fusilage. 

 

Jean recognised the seizure, the sweat, the drool. Just the same as the so-called Doctor North. 

 

The private stood up, veins on his necks taught like wire, pulsing, eyes bulging, red. 

 

And in a flash, the private was racing into the cockpit...

 

Just as the plane started its descent...

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Predator

 

Predator recognized the symptoms as the captain was tossed aside by the solider. Her mind raced for a moment as she instinctively raised one blaster, only to hesitate. An explosion inside the plane would be bad, and since she couldn’t be sure if shooting him would cause a detonation.

 

Instead, the armored hero quickly crossed the interior and grabbed for the solider. She grabbed the back of the man’s combat vest and pulled him into her grasp. As she put an arm around the soldier’s neck, thermal sensors told her his temperature was rising. Not unlike ‘Dr North’ had in her lab.

 

She cursed behind her helmet, and glanced at the cargo bay’s side door.

“Hold on tight!”

She called over to the captain as she drag the soldier towards said door.

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GM

 

The shoulder had the same fantastic speed and strength of "Doctor North". Fast, furious, born of adrenaline and superheated flesh. The "Private" must have had his metabolism racing off the scales. 

 

He threw Predator off-almost casually-with a twist and swing of his arm. 

 

"Down!" he mumbled. "Down down down down. Crash!"

 

The voice and thoughts were rapidly degrading into total incoherence. 

 

Preadtor couldn't get a hold of the private, but she could feel the skin. Pyrexial to the point of lethality. No simple human flesh could survive that internal temperature-at least not for long. So hot she could feel the muscles fasciculating as they simultanously flexed their power and degraded. 

 

The Private kicked open the cockpit door like it was cardboard, crumpling the metal. The two pilots looked back in alarm. In but a moment, the private had slammed their heads together, knocking them both out. 

 

They were still descending - but their was nobody at the wheel. 

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Predator

 

The soldier slipped through her grip and forced his way into the cockpit. In an instant he had incapacitated both pilots. Predator cursed behind her helmet and made a split second decision.

 

The soldier was bent over the controls, thrashing at buttons and switches, and she tensed. She exhaled and like a coiled spring, the armored hero sprung in blur. She had every intention to carry them both straight out through the front windshield.

 

The full weight of the armored hero collides with the suped-up soldier. Slamming into him and driving them both out through the window in a rain of glass, most of the debris blowing back into the plane from the sheer force of wind.

 

The two tumbling across the nose of the plane and out into the open air. Predator let him go with a shove, watching as he plummeted away. Leaving the potential biological weapon to gravity’s unkind mercy.

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GM

 

The "Private" tumbled through the air. They were not far from the ground now, not far from the ice and snow of Alaska. Predator could see the runway up ahead, lights blinking. It was early morning, but at this time of year, at this lattitude, that meant only a smudge of light above pitch black. The northern lights were still up. 

 

Looking down, Predator could see - with infravision - the private getting hotter and hotter as he fell. Just before he hit the ice, he was raging hot, maybe fifty or sixty degrees. Far beyond human capabilities. And then... BOOM!

 

The private exploded in that same shower of over charged fleshiness that "Dr North" had. 

 

Meanwhile, the pilotless plane was wobbling in the cross currents. It would not have been an easy landing at the best of times. And without a pilot... this was going to turn into a crash. One the one hand, the snow provided some buffering. On the other, ice wouldn't help with the traction...

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Predator

 

All signs of the soldier vanished from her sensors. The sound of the explosion barely audible, most of the sound ripped away by the wind.

 

Predator hung off the nose and glanced ahead. Numbers flashed across her screens, range, elevation and speed flickering with every fraction of a second. The plane’s trajectory being recalculated with each change.

 

“Warning. Impact imminent.”

The digital voice was matter-of-fact.

“Thank you, Cynthia.”

Predator held on to the nose of the aircraft as she positioned herself.

“Cynthia divert everything you can to the thrusters.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

She watches her screens for several long moments. Several warnings flickered across them. The numbers ticked down, finally hitting some range she had decided on and the Predator armor’s thrusters kicked on.

 

Mechanical fingers dug into the fuselage of the nose, metal denting and straining under the force. Gauges climbed and digital needles spiked. New warning called for attention.

“Thrusters at 132.58% optimal usage. Servo efficiency at 67.78%. Heat dissipation 63.99% safety standards. Exceeding safety limits. Shutdown in-“

“Disengage safety limits. Authorization: Joshua-0010-Zeta.”

Predator grunted as servos strained.

“Safety limit disengaged.”

“Shut down all redundant and non-emergency systems. Divert all power to the power servos and thrusters. Ready emergency core ventilation as soon as we hit the ground.”

 

Behind her helmet, Jean closed her eyes and readied herself for the impact. It was going to more than the suit’s shock absorption systems could handle, and she was going to feel this one.

But, if she could set the plane with minimal harm to the occupants it would be worth it.

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GM

 

Torrential cross currents hit the wind as Predator's servo-mechanics screamed. It was a dangerous situation, clinging to the tip of the plane and trying to land it safely, the controls clearly haywire. Maybe, if the winds had been calmer and the ice less icy, the plane could have landed safely between the autopilot fail safes and Preadtor's power armour. 

 

Alas, the winds were windy, and the ice was icy. 

 

A massive last minute gust nearly took Predator off the plane. One hand came loose, along with a crushed panel. the Plane tilted, one wing hitting the snow. The plane started a slow, awful spin as it hit the ground. the tyres burst, and metal screamed. Smoke plumed from one engine. 

 

But all in all, the plane ground to halt, carving a gouge through the snow, stopping a quarter mile from the military base, off the runway. The plane would need some serious repairs before taking to the air again, but nobody was killed, and there was no fire. All in all, a pretty good job for a superheroes first "Catch a falling plane from the sky" mission!

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Predator

 

Steam quickly rose around the armored figure as it stood in the center of a small crater of dirt and rocks. All the snow within a meter had already melted and the circle was slowly growing. Snow drifting on the wind evaporated soundlessly under the waves of heat radiating from the exposed cooling coils of the Predator armor. A multitude of tiny ventilation systems thought the suit whirled less and less at nature helped speed the cooling process.

 

“Captain! Are you okay? How are the pilots?”

She asked.”

 

Predator stood still as a statue for long moments as Jean ran through the quickest diagnostic scans she could. Numerous servos would need replacing once she got home. She couldn’t be sure the extent of damage to the thrusters without taking them apart. Several primary circuits were burnt out, but the backups were holding.

 

On her screen, the last temperature gauge dipped below the red. With a mechanical whine the cooling coils withdrew again and their hatch closed securely.

 

The suit finally began to move again. Predator approached the plane’s hatch and opened it.

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GM

 

The hatch had warped from the impact, stuck, but easily moved by the mighty servo-motors of Predator. On the other side was the captain, holding his guts in with his hand. Predator needed no super senses (although they sure helped) to see that the Captain was bleeding profusely from an impaling injury - a nasty spear of shrapnel in his abdomen. Not the aorta, or major artery, but still something that would be lethal if not stabilised. 

 

"Pilots... ok...." he gasped... "checked em..."

 

He collapsed into Predators arms. 

 

"What was... that?" he mumbled. "Look... mission comprimised.... go underground... exposed. Get off grid...."

 

 

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Predator

 

Predator caught the captain as he collapsed. She believed him when he said the pilots were okay, but he was most assuredly not.

 

It was obvious the mission had been compromised. But, to what extent? That would have to wait, she needed to help the officer.

 

She easily hopped back into the plane and carefully laid him down. A quick glance around and she found the first-aid kit. It was basic but it would do. A quick search of the man also netted her his own standard issued bandage kit.

 

She knew better than to just yank the shard out. It didn’t seem to have passed through completely. Opening her helmet and disengaging the filters she sniffed the area. The lack of foul smells gave her hope that the wound had miraculously avoided the intestines. She should have time.

 

“I apologize sir, this may hurt.”

She offered the man solemnly, then opened a small bottle of antiseptic. Quickly she attempted to clean the wound some, before using several bandages to cover it around the debris.

 

Scooping the captain up she exited the plane.

“Cynthia. Put me in contact with the control tower.”

“Yes ma’am.”

There was a short pause from the computer as Predator began to run as fast as she dared with her passenger.

“Connected.”

Cynthia spoke again.

“Control! This is military flight Foxtrot, Kilo, Delta, Niner. Plane is down. Pilots alive but incapacitated, still onboard. I have one serious wounded, coming to you. Please ready emergency personnel and/or redirect to nearest emergency services.”

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GM

 

"Roger... Paramedics en route...." called in the control tower. 

 

The Captain grabbed Predator by the arms, wincing in pain, skin pale, sweaty. 

 

Snow was falling on his face. Light snow, melting. 

 

"Listen. We are comprimised... do you understand? Nobody knew about our flight. Classified. And someone... something... was on it. They didn't tell me what this was about, but you can bet is hot, right? So take it from me, somebody, somewhere, is a mole. Whatever this is about, someone is on to you. Don't speak to anyone..."

 

The Captain looked down to his bloodied military fatigues. 

 

"Nice job..." he muttered, before passing out. 

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Predator

 

Predator silently regarded the unconscious man as the airstrip's tower came into sight. She didn’t want to think of the implications. As he’d said, the flight had been classified. But somewhere along the chain of communication there was a leak. Potentially more than one.

 

She met the paramedics, letting them take the captain and giving them the coordinates for the downed plane and the pilots.

 

Wordlessly, Predator stepped back and slipped away from the scene. She couldn’t risk contact with local units, they knew who she was but she couldn’t know if they were compromised. Though, if she had to venture a guess, she would give it a high likelihood. She would have to rely on the last known position Dr North had been as a starting point.

 

And so, she ran. The suit letting her move faster than humanly possible. She did her best to avoid using the thrusters unnecessarily for the time.

 

As she ran, she began rerunning events and evidence through her head. There had to be something she was overlooking.

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GM

 

Sometime later...

 

It was cold, it was dark, and it was snowing. Even the stars were intermittently under cover. All that was ahead, behind, to left and right, was snow and more snow. Undulations were featureless. It was easy to get disorientated. 

 

Predator was fast, agile, able to run through the snow with ease. But that didn't help much when she didn't know where she was running. The journey required more than a couple of frustrating double backs and adjustments. All the while, snow fell and cold air swept through the Predator armour, stripping heat away. Even with fur, Predator was feeling cold by the time she reached the last known location of Doctor North. 

 

ASS-40-LE

 

Alaskan Science Station 40, Long Exploration

 

It was a rather remote station. One main science complex, a few outhouses for power, storage, residence, and recreation. A few snowmobiles and customised 4x4 outside. The lights were on, but was anyone home?

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Predators

 

Jean could see her breath inside the helmet before the suit’s ventilation system pulled it away. It wouldn’t do to have the screens fogging up, after all. Still, she could feel the shivers.

She chided herself for slacking on getting the suit fully restored. She was going to bumped the environmental compensation controls and field ops satellite GPS systems to the top of her ‘to do’ list.

 

Still, she had eventually found her way to the remote site, ASS-40-LE.

 

The prefabs were covered in snow, a quick scan revealed which bluffing housed the power source. She could venture educated guesses on which was storage vs residential. Communication equipment was most likely in the largest building with the various sensors and antennas. Probably the actual laboratories.

 

The skimobile and truck didn’t show signs of recent usage, but given snowfall she couldn’t be positive.

 

With another deep breath she steeled herself, blocking the shivers from her mind, and carefully crept up to one of the residential buildings and scanned for thermal signatures.

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