ic Stirring Up A Metallic Nest (IC)

[Electra]

Miss Americana moved at the last instant, diving out of the way of the plasma missile intended for her, but stepping right in front of the missile intended for Dragonfly. She reeled slightly at the impact, but shook it off with a disgusted look at her charred clothing. "I am definitely billing for that," she muttered under her breath. If nothing else, the impact jarred a bit of sense back into her, tempering rage with a bit of strategic thinking. Fighting the man wasn't working, but there was plenty of machine around here for the destroying. She began cracking her knuckles. 

 

In the space of seconds, she'd calculated the power frequencies that her allies and their equipment operated on, filtering it out along with her own signature frequencies, and targeted the remainder of the EM spectrum with a wide-ranging blast that ought to fry pretty doggone close to anything electronic. It gave her a brief flashback to the reactor room at Blackstone where she'd lost her first robot, but this blast wasn't near as strong. Hopefully it would do the trick, though! Spreading her hands, she aimed one blast at each side of the room and fired twice, plunging the room into sudden dimness. 

[Fox]

Dragonfly made a soft hissing noise as the room dimmed and her suit attempted to compensate with thermal imaging - 'attempted' being the operative word. She quickly disabled that unpleasant reminder of her suit's slowly cascading failure, and unceremoniously ejected what looked like a broken vacuum tube from her unlit gauntlet.

There was a soft hum as the arm powered back up, just in time to deliver another - apparently failed - spatial assault on the would-be world uplifter. The sputtering hum of her suit reporting assorted failing minor systems was rapidly drowned out by her swearing.

[Avenger Assembled]

The others were hurt - Dragonfly's machinery had weakened to the point that the Curator would probably kill her if he turned his attentions upon her, and Gina had been hurt through her connection to the robot. Steve knew he couldn't stand against the nanite-empowered juggernaut. If Dragonfly fell, if the robot burned and knocked Gina out, there was nothing that could stop the Curator from releasing a plague of technological enslavement upon Earth-Prime. And to prevent that, Steve remembered old, grim lessons of strategy and tactics forged in blood and horror. The darkness was nothing to his vision as his jetpack shrieked to life - he roared up in the Curator's face and brought his weapon down - stabbing the Curator in the thigh. 

 

It was a deep cut that penetrated the nanite pockets buried in his quadriceps, the searing Terminus energies behind the pike letting the blow bite deep. "Cosmic Entity 047," said the armored knight in a voice that had lost all pretentions of medieval flair, "I have fought you before." The Curator just had time to realize what it was facing when Steve screamed in primal frustration and grief as he called on the memories of universal destruction to save those he loved, Harrier twisted his blade and poured a searing entropic charge into the Curator, setting blood and bone afire with entropic radiation to burn away the metal within, leaving only battered flesh behind. "No! More! Slaves!" he shouted over the sound of nanotechnology burning like leaves in a firestorm. 

[KnightDisciple]

(GM Post)

 

When Miss Americana fried the advanced electronics in the room, she could see the nanites above go from a hypnotically-swirling cloud of conversion machines to a tub full of inert metal flakes. The teleport console on the floor went dark. The Curator Drones siezed up, spat sparks, and collapsed like puppets with their strings cut. The consoles they'd been working on made the magic blue smoke and went dark. The wall of televisions went dark with sizzles and pops and a couple of cracked glass screens.

 

The Curator actually made an angry face.

 

"Do you realize what you've done? It will take me days to reactivate that stock! I'm building a perfect world!"

 

He casually leans his head to one side as Dragonfly tries to flay his composite armor, his expression contemptuous.

 

"None of you appreciate what I am-AGH!"

 

Even an eons-old Artificial Intelligence feels pain when connected to a fleshly body, and having a metal pike driven to the bone was excruciatingly painful for anyone. Most people would likely be lucky not to lose the limb after a wound like that from such a weapon.

 

And then Steve spoke, and for that brief moment, this fragment of the Curator knew fear, and Dragonfly and Miss Americana picked up a sense of hope from Magnus.

 

And then the energy coursed through his body. At first, the nanites and the computer program tried to fight it, but for a brief moment, Magnus seized control of what few bits of technology in his body were his, and he fought back.

 

The semi-merged entity fell to its knees gripping its head as Steve's pike slid partway out of the gaping, weeping wound.

 

He screamed, and just like when the Curator showed itself fully, it was a horrific sound.

 

This time, the metal plating starting to fall away, crumbling to dust and blowing away from the heroes. His weaponry did the same. From the wounds already made, what seemed to be liquid metal poured. Two dozen other wounds opened on his body as the nanites were purged from his system in an emergency venture by the Katastrof tech in his body, even as that tech was burning out.

 

The Baron, for it was likely to be the man in charge now and not the machine, keeled forward, catching himself on his hands as he vomited up bloody metal slurry. He was shaking and, unfortunately, unclothed, his body a mess of small and large wounds that were finally starting to bleed only blood, which slowed to a halt, or a crawl in the case of the savage blows dealt by Harrier's terrible weapon.

 

The third eye was the last thing to go, it and a few remaining bloody tears of quicksilver. All the metal pooled around him became piles of dust and ash.

 

Baron Magnus Vilhelm Katastrof looked at his saviors with clear blue eyes, human eyes, and smiled amidst the blood and ash.

 

"Thank you. He's gone. Finally gone! I'm free, after my long, dark night. I...no, apologies will not do for now. I'm afraid one of you will need to help me, I'm a bit less than mobile now, but on the plus side, we can burn this place out and implode it with little fear now. I can give one of you the codes on the way out."

 

As he spoke, he tried to stand, but ended up just falling to the floor in a bloody heap, his limbs betraying him.

 

"Dear me. I suppose this is the least I deserve for what I've wrought today."

[Electra]

With a sigh, Miss Americana crossed the room to go fetch the fallen hero. "Oh my god, you're naked," she blurted out when she got close enough to see him well through the near-darkness. The incongruity of it all had her laughing aloud. "This just gets worse and worse." She stepped over to the wall and used her elbow to break the glass of the fire suppression station. An alarm chirped weakly and died as the heroine reached in and grabbed the fire blanket stashed there. A little rolling and some wincing from both parties got it wrapped around Magnus before she scooped him up like she was planning to carry him over a threshold. 

 

"All right, let's get the hell out of here. I think I've had quite enough fun for one day." Miss A set a very brisk pace as she headed for the door. 

[Fox]

Dragonfly's armor almost sounded relieved to spin down out of combat mode; as the blue and humming quieted somewhat it looked and sounded nearly new again, minus a cracked piece and a tiny wisp of acrid smoke coming out of one shoulder.

She paused for a moment to glance over the room, mind reflexively putting together half a dozen rough designs for lethal, complex-leveling devices before she caught herself and shut that down, too. Her day didn't really need to get any worse. "Will take those codes when you're ready," she said, catching up with Miss Americana. "Or if you aren't ready. Either way this complex is coming down as soon as we are out of it. Would prefer to take a little time to atomize things, but will settle for something with a lot of fire, electromagnetism, and a satisfying boom."

[Avenger Assembled]

Outside, where a light snow had begun to fall, Caradoc stared back at the open-mouthed gate to the fortress they had left behind, his invisible metallic face impossible to read. He lightly ignited the tip of his blade in a faint glow, letting any remaining nanites in it be incinerated in entropic fire. He hadn't said much to the bleeding man who he had struck down, the unmistakeable bleeding wound of a blazing powerpike at maximum still visible on the Baron's flesh. It is only fate that a monster was required to destroy a monster. He could not call it cruel fate, when an apocalypse had been prevented with no one dead and no one seriously injured despite the Baron himself. Still, the all-too-familiar feel of the blow radiating up his arms still haunted his mind, and he knew he would see the former hero's face in his mind when he dreamed that night. He didn't speak, instead briefly putting his hand on Miss Americana's back. "You were injured." 

[KnightDisciple]

(GM Post)

 

The Baron helped Miss Americana cover his dignity as best he could without getting too much of his blood on her. He gave a weary nod at the iconic inventor's proclamation.

 

"Yes I do believe I've had enough "fun" to last me a lifetime or three."

 

He fell quiet for a couple of minutes, his eyes losing focus until Dragonfly addressed him.

 

"Right. Tune to frequency XXYY. Wait 10 seconds. Send the following code: Gamma Alpha Alpha Niner Eight Niner Zulu Alpha Tango Tango Four Niner Sierra Hotel Hotel Two Two Yankee Bravo Alpha. Wait 15 seconds. Send code word: Eira. I, uh, would recommend waiting until we're in the entryway. It's pretty immediate, and most of the wireless receivers were stripped by the conversion wave. 

 

The system will send a heavy-duty EMP into the halls and rooms, delivered by way of special runes combined with forcefully-extended rods with high-frequency emitters on the end. Twenty seconds after that a volatile fuel mixture is sprayed into the majority of the empty spaces. And then ignited. 

 

The implosion charges should give you your boom, then."

 

He would lapse back into quietude unless prompted for conversation. 

Edited March 21, 2014 by KnightDisciple

[Electra]

Miss A gave Harrier a reassuring glance. "I'm okay," she murmured as they walked, "bloody nose, a headache I won't really feel till later. I got off pretty easy. What about you?" she asked in return. "You took a couple of hard hits there yourself." A herculean effort kept her from glaring at the disreputable ragamuffin creature in her arms. "But yeah, a big ol' BOOM sounds just about right for finishing this place off." She quickened her pace slightly, not running, but certainly eager to reach the shelter of the prefab domes and the infirmary. 

Edited March 21, 2014 by Electra

[Fox]

Dragonfly had no particular compulsion to be or act sympathetic; ire practically rolled off of her in waves as they made their way out the front door, and it continued to do so unabated when she spun on her heel, crossed her arms, and started sending her signal out. One finger tapped the seconds out on her arm: eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourt--

A wash of static prompted a mental note to recalibrate her suit's clock. Only then did she take and release a big breath, apparently finding some release in the rumbling explosion that came from destroying a terrible place.

"You are reckless and dangerous," she said, turning her head to look at the Baron. There was less venom in her voice than could have been expected, and mostly she just seemed...tired. "Body augmentation is dangerous enough. Have seen three brain augmentations, two self-inflicted, and all three ended badly. It is bad science, especially with poor controls - and you do not count as control if it is your own brain," she preemptively countered, with an accompanying frustrated gesture.

"We cannot take these kinds of chances. Not by choice. Too good at what we do - too much high science, too many unexplained forces and singularity technology and corrupting influences. Have to be better than...than this," the heroine insisted, motioning vaguely at the imploding mountain. "You have to be better than this."

Her wings twisted into existence, floating behind her like four neon blue blades of twisted space as she took off. "We all do."

[KnightDisciple]

(GM Post)

 

The Baron frowned a bit at Dragonfly's lecture.

 

"You did catch the part of his monologue where he mentioned infecting me well before my brain was coated in Computronium, yes? Just because I wasn't shouting "ALL HAIL THE CURATOR" doesn't mean that, in retrospect, that recklessness and disregard for safety protocols was not influenced by the eons-old computer program lurking in the nanites I injected in myself a couple of years ago.

 

You remember the incident, when the thieves attacked the hospital while my young niece was being taken through her life-saving operation? When she nearly died? But don't act like I'm walking away from this scott free, or like this whole affair was my idea. I was violated. My mind was compromised and not my own.

 

I very nearly did something that would have haunted me, locked in the back of my own mind, for the eons to come of that cybernetic life. 

 

I'm going to be getting regular scans for multiple psychics and technopaths for years to come. I'm going to have to go over everything I've done since I was infected. Infected because my pride made me walk in a place that hadn't been cleared, because I didn't think my nanites could be vulnerable like that.

 

So, yes, I'm egotistical and I push the boundaries, perhaps too hard sometimes. But this..."

 

He taps his own head, then blinks. Probably gave himself a headache. Or exacerbated it.

 

"This isn't how I would have done it. I don't ask for your pity or sympathy or understanding, but don't just assume you know exactly how it went down just because you watched the videos. Don't act like I wanted this day to happen.

 

Whatever. Just...take me to the medics. Hopefully they can stop the bleeding."

 

He seemed tired, and maybe slightly bitter, though if the latter was true it was likely more about the gaping wounds on his body and the whole "taken over by an alien intelligence" thing.

Edited March 21, 2014 by KnightDisciple

[Avenger Assembled]

A few years earlier, Steve might have let the Baron know the grim price that even good intentions could have on innocent worlds when one tampered with the cosmic indifference of the multiverse - but time had helped him settle some of the rawer edges of his mind. 

 

Let him keep his pride. He has lost all else. 

 

When they left the Baron with the medics, Caradoc finally spoke, his voice grave and full of intent, albeit nearly devoid of emotion. "His injuries will eventually heal. Treat them as you would long-closed wounds that have recently opened again." It was the first time he had spoken more than a word or two in the Baron's presence after the latter's resurrection. "Goodbye, Magnus." 

 

When he and Miss Americana had returned to the runaway where the Archetech plane lay waiting for them, Steve had put his armor away and returned to his human identity. He looked up at the sky, then at Miss Americana. "Let me tend your wounds," he said to the nearly flawless robot as they walked towards the plane, whose crew were surely enjoying an evening's rest. 

[Electra]

Miss A took a few minutes to consult with the doctors after depositing Magnus on a diagnostic bed, sketching out a treatment plan for the worst of his injuries. She suspected the baron would have his own technopath on hand to handle his rehabilitation, but made sure the doctors had her contact information through ArcheTech if additional help was needed.By the time she was done, Magnus had been given very good painkillers, so there wasn't much she could've said to him, had she known what to say. It was with a sense of relief and a great fatigue that she headed back to the plane with Harrier, keeping an eye on the sky to see if Dragonfly would be rejoining the group or finding her own way home. 

 

As she climbed the jetway and entered the plane, her shoulders slumped, losing her habitual perfect posture. "It really isn't bad," Miss A told him reassuringly, but obligingly sat down in a seat and closed her eyes.

 

A moment later, a hidden latch opened in the bulkhead, swinging out a door to Gina's hidden compartment. Gina blinked into the light, wiping dried blood off her face with the side of her hand. "Every time I go out of town on a mission, it sucks," she told him peevishly. "What have we got to eat around here?"