Contract #4: Formula 42

[GM Nick]

Caldwell lurches away from the cloud of rapidly depleting nitrogen, taking a swipe at Val as he advances.

Melee Combat (Caldwell)

[Unarmed Combat (5) + AGI (6) = 5]
4 5 6 5 4 2 5 6 3 1 3
[Unarmed Combat (2) + AGI (5) = 2]
1 5 1 6 3 3 4

Damage Resistance (Val)

[BOD (3) + Armor (8) = 5]
3 5 6 6 2 1 3 5 5 1 1

< 4P DAMAGE >

The wind is knocked out of Val's lungs as he's thrown bodily against a nitrogen tank. A long gash decorates his torso where the crystal ripped through the gel packs.

[Elliott]

Adrenaline fueled fury runs hot through Tyros' veins as he watches Val get man handled by the crystaline monster. With a battle yell that somehow carries over the cacaphony of gunfire, Tyros leaps at Caldwell and swings his clayrmore at his crystal head.

[GM Nick]

Melee Combat (Tyros)

[Blades (7) + AGI (5) + Weapon Focus (2 ) + Reach (2) + Friends in Melee (2) = 7]
2 1 3 5 2 1 3 5 5 2 1 6 5 6 1 5 4 1
[Unarmed Combat (5) + AGI (6) = 5]
2 2 5 5 2 5 4 6 2 5 4

Damage Resistance (Caldwell)

[BOD (50) = 20]
6 4 6 1 6 6 4 5 6 5 4 4 4 3 1 5 3 2 5 2 2 5 6 3 3 4 3 4 3 1 3 2 1 1 6 1 2 6 3 2 6 2 5 2 6 5 5 6 1 6

The claymore rebounds from the surface of the crystal, sending reverberations down Tyros' arms that nest in his elbows.

In the few moments that he has been free from the nitrogen, Caldwell has resumed his rapid regeneration!

[GM Nick]

Sinjin rolls--cat-like--to the next nitrogen tank and tears off a hose. He turns the freezing expulsion on Caldwell, once again.

[GM Nick]

[ Max = 38 ]
[ Tyros = 28 ]

[John]

Max is vaguely aware out of the corner of his eye as he furiously thumbs a partial load of shells into Marlowe that Sinjin has once again doused Caldwell with freezing nitrogen. Seeing his opportunity, the elf raises his weapon and fires on the unnatural monster.

(( Reloading Marlowe in full is a complex action, so I figure I can call just loading a few shells a simple action. After all, one doesn't have to load a pump-action shotgun to capacity. So! SA, +4DV. ))

[GM Nick]

Max quickly rams two anti-personnel slugs into Marlowe and fires off a shot.

Ranged Combat (Max)

[Shotguns (8) + AGI (10) + Smartlink (2) + Called Shot (-4) = 2]
1 4 1 3 6 4 3 2 4 5 4 2 2 4 1 1
[REA (7) = 2]
6 2 2 1 4 2 5

The hurried shot ricochets off of the pauldrons of Caldwell's exoskeleton.

[GM Nick]

Tyros charges back into the fray, swinging the claymore in a wild arc.

Melee Combat (Tyros)

[Blades (7) + AGI (5) + Weapon Focus (2) = 6]
4 2 3 3 2 6 6 4 5 5 6 4 2 6
[Unarmed Combat (5) + AGI (6) = 4]
3 5 5 1 4 5 2 2 2 2 6

Damage Resistance (Caldwell)

[BOD (25) = 10]
6 2 1 6 6 6 5 3 1 5 4 3 5 4 5 5 1 1 4 1 3 6 4 2 3

Sparks fill the air as the claymore is once again repelled by the mineral carapace.

[GM Nick]

[ Max = 46 ]
[ Doc = 42 ]
[ Sinjin = 38 ]
[ Val = 30 ]
[ Tyros = 30 ]
[ Caldwell = 22 ]

[John]

Max grimaces as he ejects a spent shell casing from his weapon, which chatters silently to the ground amidst the bedlam. The frozen air and burnt cordite offer contradicting inputs to the elf's senses, and the frantic swirl of motion and violence confuse his senses. But, like every member of the team, Max doesn't really require clarity in the fog of war as his technologically augmented body does the work for him. Desperate to end the contest before any of the team gets significantly hurt, Max takes a moment that could be lost in the blink of a cybereye, collects himself, and fires again.

(( BF +4DV, SA +4DV ))

[GM Nick]

Ranged Combat (Max)

[Shotguns (8) + AGI (10) + Smartlink (2) + Called Shot (-4) = 4]
4 1 4 2 2 4 6 2 2 5 2 4 4 5 3 5
[REA (7) = 2]
3 2 3 5 1 1 6

Damage Resistance (Caldwell)

[BOD (25) = 6]
2 3 3 5 4 6 6 6 5 3 4 2 6 1 1 1 2 4 2 2 4 2 3 2 3

< 9P DAMAGE >

Max puts three rounds directly through the darkened, frozen crystal torso. A chain reaction follows, as pitch-black veins spread throughout the exoskeleton. Caldwell grabs his head and convulses violently. Impossibly rapid crystal growth explodes from each limb, tearing through nitrogen tanks as if they were paper.

The team hits the deck, covering their heads as pieces of cooling equipment fill the air.

Caldwell's face is visible for a brief moment as the crystal skull fragments, retracts and begins regenerating. His expression is frozen in abject terror.

Jeffe's voice is barely audible over the din. "End it!"

(( Combat's over. ))

[John]

Max's attention turns improbably from the expanding and contracting crystalline behemoth before him to his shell-shocked compatriot. He studies Doc's face for a moment, but reads little on it. Max, so commonly the frayed lead on the team, has a hard time reconciling Doc's breakdown this time around. Concern for his friend rushes through the elf, but he sees nothing other than wonder and horror in Doc's eyes-- expressions he can read on the faces of all those in the room. Everybody in the FRSR ranks seems to have taken a step or two back as the former scientist contorts wildly, while Jeffe has apparently advanced in his hate-fueled bloodlust. The violence he sees in Jeffe's body language concerns him.

Turning back to Caldwell, Max raises Marlowe as his momentary reverie draws to its necessary close when he sees Doc pull his weapon to his shoulder and line up his target from his periphery. The elf lowers his weapon again, electing to perhaps give Doc some kind of catharsis for the day's events.

[Elliott]

The troll knows no hesitation in combat. Tyros moves with surprising speed for one so large, bouncing back up off the floor and continuing the swing of his sword he had in motion before being buffeted by the crystal explosion. The giant claymore sweeps up from the ground, catching Caldwell in the neck just below his chin.

[Drew Buddy]

Adams pushes himself to his feet, and swats away a cooling hose writhing in the air as it bleeds out its frigid payload.
What's left of Caldwell can be seen faintly through the swirling mist and small pieces of debris catching rides on the hurricane air currents. The sound through his helmet is like a hailstorm on a tin roof.

Adams walks up to Caldwell with steady steps.

"I'm sorry it had to turn out this way."

[Stephen]

Slumped against a damaged nitrogen tank with an arm across his chest, Val raises his eyes and peers through a veil of pain in time to see a few of his more mobile teammates laying into Caldwell's mangled exoskeleton. His eyes wander to Jeffe and observe the quivering tension in his frame. Not willing to take any chances with the man, Val wires a command to his SMG, ejecting the weapon's clip and safely expelling the chambered cartridge. He doesn't hear the sound of either clattering against the floor, though he's sure there must have been one. For Val, there is only fury at his uselessness in the recent fracas... and pain. That, too. Perhaps that most of all. He leans his head back against the cold steel and closes his eyes, wanting to sleep, and to wake up back in Caracas.

[John]

Max moves decisively over to Jeffe and, with a small mark of aggression, takes Val's SMG out of his hands before the terrorist can get any bright ideas. Having seen the horrifying effects of formula forty two over and over again, the elf needs no more convincing. Confidently, and with hurry in his voice, Max says,

"Destroy it, Jeffe. Destroy it and synthesize a decoy for us. We can handle whatever blowback there is, but we can't let this drek get out into the world." As he speaks, the elf gestures to the destruction wrought all around them, and continues, "And we need to bury the crystals that it's derived from under so much earth that they'll never been found again."

Max has seldom worn a more serious countenance in all his days.

[Drew Buddy]

Adams silently turns away from Caldwell's slumped form. He stares at nothing for a few seconds, before his eyes slowly focus back from ten thousand klicks to the immediate room around him.

"Frag!" He says, mostly to himself, as he notices Val and remembers his job.

He moves over to the wall, and sets the rifle down beside his teammate.

"Get you patched up in just a second here. Just hold still," he says, getting to work.

[GM Nick]

First Aid Test (Doc)

[Combat Wounds (7) + LOG (7) + PuShed (1 ) + Medkit (6) = 9]
1 2 2 1 5 5 2 6 1 6 3 2 5 1 2 5 4 4 5 5 6

< 4P Healed >

Doc addresses Val's wound, noting with relief that the slash missed any major organs or arteries.

The familiar movements of his hands, guided by muscle memory, are steadier than they have been in several weeks. Whatever traumatic detritus floated to the surface of his consciousness has been washed away, at least for the time being.

[GM Nick]

El Jeffe steps over Caldwell's carcass, taking care not to place a boot in the crystalline dust. He moves insides the shattered skeleton of the containment unit and his eyes fall on the small metal briefcase that lies open in the center of the room. A single ampoule of a clear liquid rests among foam. Formula 42 sings silently of death and destruction, of twisted unnatural perversions and jagged, translucent nightmares.

Gingerly, the terrorist leader withdraws the ampoule. He studies it for a moment, as though one might study a venomous insect held barely at a safe distance.

"De vuelta al infierno con vosotros."

Jeffe hurls it to the ground, where it shatters and leaks its contents in between floor tiles.

[John]

Max watches Jeffe anxiously as he goes about his task. As Jeffe looks up from the seeping fluid, Max says,

"Alright, here's the story I'm gonna give them. Once they figure out that we haven't delivered the real sample, I'll tell them that we killed you in the process of retrieving what looked like our objective. Since they gave us no real idea of what it was we were after, there was no way we could test it to be sure that we'd found what we were looking for. Should they press the issue further, I'll suggest that it was an act of sabotage on your behalf, which I'll infer from cryptic comments you made to us as you bled out. That'll get them off your back, and just maybe-- though not likely-- ours as well."

[GM Nick]

Jeffe considers Max's suggestion.

"That could work."

He removes an empty ampoule from a cabinet underneath a cooling tank and slides a clear vial into it.

"We cooked up this placebo just in case BioDrive had started human trials. Looks like I won't be needing it anymore."

His eyes meet Max's.

"We may not agree on methods, but it seems that today we share moral ground. You have my thanks, and my respect."

The fake ampoule is extended towards Max.

"I've got people waiting a few klicks from here. Once I'm free of the facility, I'll kill the EMP generator. You should be able to fly out of here."

[Drew Buddy]

Adam's gaze moves back and forth between Max and Jeffe.

"One last thing. Do you know where this facility's server room is? We can't risk any of this conversation having been recorded."

[GM Nick]

Jeffe grins.

"Don't think that will be a problem. There's about 20 kilograms of C5 tucked into this sub-level. I'll hit the detonator when I see your bird in the sky."

[John]

Max shakes Jeffe's hand, and says,

"No hard feelings-- we were just guns for hire brought against you with no information; this was never ideological for us. That said, sorry for killing all of your friends."

[GM Nick]

"My men know what they're getting into. They die gladly for the cause. Today, we are one step closer. Adios."

[GM Nick]

The mojave is a blast furnace as the team emerges on the roof. Obscured by waves of heat roiling off the helicopter pad is the Hound, just where they left it.

[Drew Buddy]

Adams sweeps the roof before running over to the chopper.

"Any excitement, General?" He asks the turret in the doorway as he slides into the pilot's seat.

[Stephen]

Val groans as he drags himself through the rooftop access door. Yeah. And exactly what are you one step closer to, Jeffe? It'd be downright dishonorable to execute the man here and now, but letting him off scot-free doesn't sit quite right with Val either. His motives in planning this mission might be pure, perhaps more so than that of FRSR when they accepted this contract. La Purga for the cause, FRSR for the nuyen. Social vigilantes and mercenaries alike are dangerous and unpredictable. Val, however, has no delusions as to which are more so. He will not stop, and more will die. There is always death on either side of the knife's edge. All that changes is who does the killing.

[GM Nick]

"That's a negatory, CO!" grumbles the Colonel.

A landscape of transparent blue holograms spring to life as Doc settles in the pilot's seat, signifying that Jeffe held up his end of the bargain and deactivated the EMP.

[Stephen]

Val heaves himself into a jump seat and secures the harness around his still-tender torso. Once strapped in, he calls up an AR window and begins scanning for any hidden nodes within four kilometers of the BioDrive facility. It wouldn't do to learn later that the corporation had it's own surveillance on the building while the FRSR operation was underway. A witness seeing the Hound lift off moments before the building is leveled to cinders would be sure to raise a few eyebrows with their employer, especially once they inevitably discover that the sample they've been handed is a fraud.

[John]

Max straps himself into the co-pilot's seat beside Doc and does a survey of the team. All faces but that of the perpetually invisible Tyros are tired and worn-- the day's combat having taken a greater toll than normal. Several members of the team wear fresh blood and sutures, to which Max is unfortunately no stranger. As the engines rev up, Max retrieves a smoke from his pack and looks at Doc as he sticks it between his lips and lights it. The elf thinks about it for a moment and offers the pack to his friend, saying,

"It looks like you could use one after today, amigo." Max lets the moment hang for a second, and asks, "Are you good?"

[Drew Buddy]

Adams takes his hands off the controls as the Hound's rotor slowly spins up, and settles back in his seat. He eyes the offering before reaching out and taking a cigarette from the pack.
He lights it with Max's lighter, and inhales as he again settles back in the seat.

"Yeah, I'm good," he says, uncertain of the truth of the statement. He stares out on the desert, across a dry salt lake, before continuing,

"Just some bad history clawing its way to the surface. I never thought I'd come back to this place. Some of the things I've seen here... Well they don't ever really leave you."

He takes another drag.

"But yeah, good to go," he says, his demeanor indicating that he considers the conversation to be concluded.

He checks the small mirror in the cockpit to verify that the others are strapped in, before twisting the collective pitch control. The sound of the rotors turns into a bass drone as the Hound lifts off the helicopter pad.

[John]

Max looks at his cohort a moment longer and lets it rest. In no world does the elf believe that Doc's issue is resolved, but he also has enough faith in the man to believe him when he says that he'll be okay. Settling back into his seat, Max drags deeply on his cigarette and considers how much more he's started smoking since he met this motley bunch. The desert world outside his window withdraws below him and begins to rush past, and Max thinks hard about the enemy they're likely about to make in BioDrive. 'Another drop in the fraggin' ocean...'