Rampage Out of Space

[Montmorency]

The Rampage Begins

---Bionic command center---
---Nameless exurb---
---Libertanian continent---

Major Montmorency strolled through the wreckage of smoking corpses to the checkpoint. Established by the last remnants of the last surviving company of the UMEN strike envelope, it monitored the premises of a Ducky Sleaze Shameless Pizza. There were few enough that the Major could communicate by naked voice.

This is it, Marines. Every Bionic in the zone is thought to be neutralized, but a rearguard element fought their way through the underground facility - here he gestured toward the derelict entertainment center - and wiped out the 'ported Marines who previously secured the place. Our intelligence indicates no exits or entrances other than this one, so we figure the Borgs are on a suicide mission to scrap their projects and prevent what all data and technology on site from falling into UMEN's possession. We've got to move in immediately and finish the job so our forensic cordon can move in and seize the invaluable assets surely contained here and throughout the sector.

Here Sergeant Visorslash interrupted to question the wisdom of proceeding without reinforcements amid such great slaughter, no longer having the advantage of surprise either.

Our orders are to suck it up and finish the mission, slacker. Reinforcements have been diverted to resist diversionary Bionic counterattacks worldwide. We don't have the option of withdrawing, and if we sit tight then at a minimum it is likely that the Bionic survivors will fully sabotage the facility and sneak out alive under our noses. Or they'll deploy some sort of superweapon. Or the borg themselves will receive reinforcement, in which case we have better prospects taking a defensive posture within the inner sanctum than around this parking lot. The point is, it's improvise, adapt, or die. Any further complaints?

Yut yut yut yut yut yut yut, came the glum chorus...

The cadre carefully sifted through the outer shell above the facility, the pizza place that had stood abandoned for at least a generation since the evacuation of the sub-urban hinterlands. They combed without incident through the subterranean cargo load, the polished (now with blood and char) waiting area, and the concerningly-superfluous office block. The troops were unnerved by the quiet, and by the constant presence of bodies, both friend and foe, littered about. Though the plan was doubly-risky, spreading fireteams for the tele-sertion throughout the entire complex, rather than in a single area, or on the surface (for a classic envelopment and assault inward), proved to maximize the toll to Bionic operators. It also, of course, assured the deaths of the entire initial bridgehead. Still, the autonomous defense system remained mercifully deactivated, and in relative terms the kill ratio had never been better.

The handful of surviving Bionics would certainly be present in the most valuable sections of the facility now, the laboratories, the armories, and the command room itself.

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After a full day of agonized alert and cavalcade of unnameable horrors witnessed, the Marines made a base in the cafeteria. They had traversed half the known area of the facility, yet no resistance or hint of life had been encountered. The atmosphere had gone from tense and sensitive to eerily oppressive.

Sergeant Visorslash again offered his insight: perhaps, relying on their stealth technology, the Bionics had simply avoided the Marines and snuck out already.

Major Montmorency was dismissive. No chance, sucker. They fought their way in here, so there's something they want to accomplish. Have they already? Why would we believe it? No, they're still here, make no mistake. But your protests about stealth give me a notion...

The Major drew on the Sarge. Troops, attention! We've got intruders, and Mr. Abstain here has to be one of them. The whole plan must have been to embed in our group as we came to secure the facility, picking us off along the way without confronting our strength head on! Men, the real Visorslash must have died bravely many hours ago. Blast that impostor immediately!

While the rest milled in stunned inaction, Visor meekly suggested that the whole group clear itself through cogent discussion and collectively establish who the true Marines are, and who the malign interlopers.

There is general agreement. Maybe ol' Visor will live the mission out yet.

DAY ONE BEGINS



Phase ends

Living Players (17)

@c4e5g3d5 (c4)
@hollowkatt (hollow/HK)
@Raskolnikov (Raskol/Rask)
@Dolby (Dolbster/Dolb)
@Winston Hughes (Winston/WH/McGinty)
@Timsup2nothin (Tim/Tims)
@Garden Gnome (Gnome/GG)
@Ibn-Khaldun (Ibn/IK)
@Lewwyn (Lew)
@BorgPicard (Borg/Picard/LA/Argon)
@NANOOK (Nook)
@Csargo (Csar)
@Laurentus (Laur)
@El-ahrairah (El/El-A)
@Vroendal (Vro)
@pzelda (Zelda/Capage/Cap)
@CutePanda (Panda/CP)

Dead Players (0)