Clusterfrag

Adams grinds his teeth, and looks for another vulnerable point on the walking rock formation.

(( +4 DV ))

<< 3P DAMAGE >>

A shower of crystal particulate fills the air behind the creature.

The reports of his teammates' gunfire serves as a cue to Val. He sights in on the crystalline giant and fires a pair of bursts in its direction, for all the good he thinks it'll do.

(( Narrow bursts. ))

Val's first burst is unsteady, strafing the wall behind his target.
The second burst is closer, but recoil prevents him from landing any solid shots.

(( LOL at the dice. ))

Taking advantage of the awkward slowness of the gemstone giant, Sinjin moves into striking distance. Circling to its right flank, he springs an attack as the monster lurches onward. Hands raised above his head, he brings his fists down together like a sledgehammer of bone, slamming them into the back of the creatures neck.

(( Assuming crit. strike, since the beast's got no armor. ))
<< 11P DAMAGE >>

The battle spines extend as Sinjin leaps and sink into the crystal as his powerful limbs slam into the monster's back. Crystal shards crumble and rain down on the floor. The creature slows, appearing to have been badly injured.

Seeing Sinjin in hand to hand with the crystal monster, and inspired by his success, the big troll rushes into melee, claymore making a grand arc before crashing into the beast.

< 5P DAMAGE >

A shower of sparks follows the claymore's sweeping trail as Tyros cuts a clear path through the crystal. At once, every atom in the shimmering exoskeleton seems to collapse as the behemoth is reduced to a fine dust. A pale looking human male slides out of the center and collapses on top of the piles of particulate.

Adams keeps his rifle at the ready, and cautiously steps up to the man.

Taking his left hand off the foregrip, he reaches forward and checks the man's throat for a pulse.

Doc feels a pulse, albeit a faint one.

Adams withdraws his hand, and sets his rifle down.

"Frag me, he's still alive!" He says with surprise.

He sets immediately to stabilizing and reviving the man, keeping an eye out for any obvious signs that the blows from the battle made it through the crystalline armor.

"Okay pal, what's your story?" He mutters under his breath while he works.

Max kneels next to the man and slings Marlowe over his shoulder. Giving him a hard once over, the elf asks,

"How the frag did you become that... thing??"

The man's eyelids flutter and his hand rushes to the stim patch on his neck. He sits bolt-upright and immediately begins a choking fit. After a minute of regaining his breath, his bleary gaze sweeps over the team. Though clearly disoriented, he seems relatively unharmed.

"Are you the extraction team? Caldwell said you'd come, but I didn't..."

He shakes his head.

"This... squad of men came into the laboratory. They rounded us up, went through our specimens. One of them grabbed me, stabbed me with something. I remember excruciating pain and then blacking out. When I came to, I could see but I couldn't control my actions. It was like I was dancing on puppet strings."

Max glances over his shoulder to Tyros and says gloomily,

"Looks like we know at least some of what those crystals of yours can do.."

Turning his attention back to the man, the elf leans in and forcefully says,

"Tell me who this Caldwell is and what he told you."

Max looks knowingly at the rest of the team, and grumbles,

"Sounds like we know where we're going."

Returning his attention to the scientist, the elf says,

"We've been clearing this place from the top down. Head upward and you should be safe."

Standing then, the elf reloads his weapon after unslinging it from his shoulder, makes for the exit, and says to no one of his fellow mercenaries in particular,

"Let's keep moving."

Motes of questionable origin drift lazily through shafts of fluorescent light as Max pushes the emergency stairway access door open with Marlowe's barrel. The elf lays his head against the cold steel wall, enabling one eye access through the gap. He frowns as the ultrasound reports back nonsensical readings--varying surface dimensions and the like. With a tap to the visor, the display reverts to low-light.

A sprawling mass of crystal growth has claimed much of the shaft downwards. Violet tendrils snake along railings and in between steps, giving bloom to brilliant fractal displays of crystalline formations. It's as if the area is being ravaged by a geological fungus. Aside from the curious flora, Max doesn't notice any signs of life.

Max turns back to the team and reports,

"These crystals are growing like fraggin' weeds. Watch your step as we go through here, boys. Tyros-- I hope you fit."

Max eases the door open further and steps into the passageway that descends down through a forest of crystals. The protrusions jut off every surface, and make the going slow and perilous as Max makes his way deeper into the belly of the evermore dangerous and claustrophobic facility. As he shimmies his way through, the elf has a brief flash of ancient royalty, buried for all eternity and surrounded by countless gems and precious stones. Beneath the desert surface and being closed in on by these terrible, beautiful rocks, Max hates his imagination for leading him to images of the long dead and their dessicated, rotted faces.

The team picks their way carefully down the staircase, each step feeling more and more like advancing into an alien landscape. Max shimmies through the open doorway at the bottom and steps foot on to sub-level 2.

According to Val's diagrams, sub-level 2 is mainly a farm of hexagonal test chambers spread out at regular intervals. The air is still and acrid, eerie silence punctuated only infrequently by the roar of the facility's thermal venting system activating. The crystal growth continues here in abundance, its veins bursting through windows and into machinery like the limbs of an angry encephalapod. What little light there is emanates from damaged and flickering specimen overheads, catching on the myriad of purple geology and refracting around the room. An eldritch disco.

Adams instinctively keeps his head low as he steps softly through the room.

"Why can't we ever take jobs that send us to nice places?" He whispers.

As if in response to Doc's quip, one of the test chambers vents a large volume of atmosphere. The reinforced glass doors slide open.

Max gives Doc a disapproving look, and says,

"You're the reason we can't have nice things."

The elf coolly slips his faceplate and respirator into functioning position.

A man in a yellow chem-suit backs through the chamber's opening, carrying a heavy silver cylinder in his arms.

Adams steps up behind the man, and jabs the barrel of the rifle into his neck.

"Not another step. Who are you?" He asks.

Max stands with his weapon trained on the man-- the elf's perma-seizure causing his trigger finger to twitch reflexively and without control.

Startled, the man in the chem-suit drops the cylinder. He raises his arms without turning around.

"Don't shoot! I'll do what you ask, just don't shoot me!"

Tyros reacts as only one waiting expectantly to dodge a gun report might, wiggling one finger (centering) and catching the cylinder in mind air with his will (magic fingers, f2), before bringing it over to himself for inspection.

The canister appears to wobble and stop in mid-air.

The chem-suited man puts his hands behind his head.

"Listen, I did my part! I retrieved element 13 just like you asked, now please let me go. I have a family."

Adams relaxes the rifle a bit, but doesn't lower it.

"Easy, easy. Who asked you to retrieve the sample? And where did they want you to bring it? What is the sample, anyway?"