Clusterfrag

Max looks at the containment chamber and softly mutters,

"Oh frag..."

Val shakes his head slowly before nodding to the containment chamber.

"If you were so put out by this Caldwell's betrayal, why did we come in to find your murdering hands wrapped around that release lever?"

((First of all, WTF was with my last roll? 14 dices and not a 5 or 6 to be found...))

Tyros doesn't like the idea of an astrally-active toxin that makes zombies out of meta-humans, but these things already exist in the world and will continue to be created as long as mana and madmen do as well. The troll wants no part of dying to prevent the inevitable.

"What's to stop the corp from just recreating its work? What we might do here is of little consequence. It might buy time, but at the cost of our reputation and, perhaps, lives, that seems like a sorry trade."

Shaking off the complete lack of response from his manipulation of mana at his last try, Tyros decides on a subtler tact now that everyone seems to be having a friendly chat. A quick flick of his wrist (centering) and he gently begins to sift through the Ork's memories (mind probe, f3; what does he know about the toxin, the corp, La Purga's interests here and what threats they might have in store for the team).

As Tyros begins channeling magical energy, a solid crack spiderwebs throughout the glass surrounding the containment chamber.

Jeffe backs away from the chamber, the glass around which is now fracturing as the cracks spread. Plumes of nitrogen aerosol begin to escape from the places where the tank has been compromised.

The terrorist leader gestures to Max.

"Give me a sidearm, if you want to stand a chance against this thing."

Max looks at the ork dumbfounded for a moment and completely loses sight of the peril of the moment as he asks,

"Wait, you're the leader of a terrorist cell, in the process of taking over a bioweapons facility, and you didn't bring a weapon?"

The disbelief on his face quickly fades back to the tension of the moment as another plume of gas shoots out from the containment chamber, and Max shouts to Val,

"Val-- give him one of your spares!"

The elf scrambles for a defensive position with a bead on the container, raises his weapon, and waits for a shot.

"Never thought I'd advocate arming a terrorist, but he is telling the truth. Val, maybe he can finally put that SMG of yours to good use!"

Tyros hefts his sword, and prepares for whatever might be coming out of the chamber.

Val's eyes remain narrowed as he unfastens the SMG from the end of its single-point sling. His eyelids flutter almost imperceptibly as he subscribes to the SMG's control node, ready at a moment's notice to disable the firearm with nary more than a thought. He tosses it barrel-up through the air to the orkish terrorist with his left hand while bringing his own rifle to bear on the containment tank with his right.

"Careful where you point that thing, 'mano." The venomous tone of his voice completes the unspoken threat.

Sinjin maneuvers silently along the perimeter of the room, edging behind the La Purga boss to cut off any potential escape should the man try to run in the fog of combat. His eyes flicker between the active containment cell and the terrorist as he draws knives from the cross banded leather sheath upon his chest. The weight of the steel in his hands is comforting. He tests an edge, drawing a line of blood across his own forearm as he prepares for action.

The glass surrounding the containment chamber splinters as fractalized micro-fractures spiderweb in every direction. A massive cloud of nitrogen vapor erupts in all directions as the shards fall away. Something large and wicked looking steps out, temporarily shrouded by the frigid effluvium. Tendrils of the coolant cling to the humanoid shape as it strides forward, stepping clear of the remnants of what once contained it.

It marginally resembles the crystal monstrosities that the team encountered earlier, but with a decidedly more fearsome appearance. The crystal exo-skeleton is spotted with dark patches and rife with jagged thorns. Each limb sports a set of deadly looking ridges, dwarfed only by a tangle of wild protrusions from the thing's shoulders. Light seems to become trapped within the dark recesses of the mineral body, making a direct gaze on the being uncomfortable.

The jagged crown swivels as the thing-that-was-once-Caldwell surveys his opponents.

Max is taken aback by the monster lurking out of the containment chamber. The sheer size of thing would be enough to strike terror into the hearts of the most hardened chummers, but its undeniably fearsome appearance somehow redoubles its intimidating effect. It's everything that the elf can do to keep from turning tail and running-- his allegiance to his teammates being the only thing keeping his feet planted firmly on the ground. Max looks nervously to the other teammates, on whose faces he thinks he can make out similar visages of shock and concern. His palms are sweating as the moment stands still in time-- the thing's lifeless eyes burning from what seems like a universe away. Acting of its own accord, Max's right index finger squeezes against Marlowe's trigger, and with a bomb blast sends three slugs as the beast's welcoming party to the corporeal world.

[ Doc = 49 ]
[ Max = 48 ]
[ Caldwell = 41 ]
[ Sinjin = 36 ]
[ Tyros = 34 ]
[ El Jeffe = 27 ]
[ Val = 25 ]

(( Delaying Doc's action until Max's is up. ))
The ArmSmart™ anti-personnel slugs flatten against Caldwell's torso, causing a kinetic ripple that surges throughout the exo-skeleton. He staggers and draws himself up. The perforations made by Max's burst disappear as new crystals grow in to fill them.

Max drops his weapon to his side for a moment and stares at the monstrosity in abject confusion. Uncertain of what to do, Max essentially does nothing as he staggers backward.

The elf shouts over to Jeffe in terror,

"Jeffe! What the frag do you know about these crystals?? Bullets aren't the answer here!!"

Adams backs off into cover as Max's volley falls flat.

Poking his head out, he stares intently at the thing, looking for any kind of weak point. (( Free action: Observe in detail ))

(( PM'd. ))

Adams eyes briefly widen,

"Freeze the fragger! Freeze him!" He shouts, firing a burst at a length of cooling pipe near the monster.

Doc's gunfire severs a hefty length of tubing, which begins to convulse on the floor and spew atomized nitrogen vapors in an uncontrolled fashion.

Caldwell charges forward, grappling with Max.
The wily elf slips out from between the serrated arms, narrowly avoiding a spiked embrace.

(( Sinjin's up. ))

With no time to waste, Sinjin makes a dive for the wildly thrashing coolant line. He tries desperately to reign in its severed end, hoping to gain enough control to hose Caldwell with the freezing gas emissions.

Caldwell is engulfed in the vapor and the crystalline exoskeleton darkens as it cools.

(( Tyros' turn. ))

Max, already mid-roll away from Caldwell's razor-sharp spines, further contorts his body to avoid the blast of subzero gasses. The nitrogen spews across his field of vision as the world disappears into a gray cloud. The elf raises his right arm to shield his exposed face as he backpedals away from the freezing spume, and the air filling his lungs suddenly grows heavy, cold, and dead. Stumbling backward, he just barely manages to avoid the blast as Sinjin sprays Caldwell.

Tyros is a bit taken aback. When you watch something shrug of shotgun slug impacts as if they were flies, one has to wonder what possible effect simply stabbing the thing with a sword could have. When brute force fails, however, perhaps attacking the spirit will find success.

(magical theory roll to see if there is anything Tyros can deduce about how he might cancel or mitigate the astral manifestation of the exoskeleton. Is there a way to counterspell or maybe banish it to reduce its effectiveness?)

Gathering his will, Tyros thrusts his free hand forward (centering) and unleashes a pulsing ball of yellow energy (manabolt, f6).

The astral energy from Tyros' manabolt seems to course through the crystalline exo-skeleton, short-circuiting it. Caldwell's mad thrashing amidst the nitrogen mist seems slower and less precise.
< 1S DAMAGE >
(( PM'd. ))

El Jeffe drops the hammer on the SMG and fires full-auto on the distracted Caldwell.
< 4P DAMAGE >

Chunks of the frozen exo-skeleton shatter on the ground as Jeffe pours round after round into Caldwell.

Val sights in on the-thing-formerly-called-Caldwell through the shifting haze of nitrogen vapor and sparkling crystalline shards. His Smartlink reticle strobes frenetically as it passes over the man-made demon. A pale mist manifests in the cold air as Val expels the breath from his lungs, as much to calm his nerves as to steady his hands. He fires a pair of bursts at his foe.

(( Long narrow burst, followed by short narrow burst. ))

The muzzle jumps away from Val, scattering automatic fire along the nitrogen canisters.
Despite the slowed regeneration, the exoskeleton is simply too hardened for Val's slugs to penetrate.

Adams keeps the fire going, firing two bursts at the monster ((both +4 DV)).

< 4P DAMAGE >
< 10P DAMAGE >

Crystal particulate fills the air as the battle rifle does its deadly work.

Val realigns his sights and fires off a repeat of his last attack.

Val struggles to keep the rifle trained on his target, but his shots only graze Caldwell.
The second burst ricochets off of the polished crystal surface.

Max collects himself from his reeling away from the blast of freezing nitrogen and pulls Marlowe up to killing position, gets Caldwell's center mass in his sights, and fires.

(( +4 DV both, first shot BF, second SA ))

< 6P DAMAGE >
Marlowe's following shot ricochets off of the nitrogen tank.