Clusterfrag

Recovering from the daze, the benevolent android launches himself forward with a swinging haymaker.
Omega ducks under the attack.

Adams skirts along the wall, staying out of reach of the humanoid blender in the middle of the room.

He gives the hydrogen canisters a second glance, before turning his back and continuing the search for Takahara.

Best of luck, chummers.

Max fans out in the other direction from Doc, shouting over the din of the battle now taking place behind him,

"RADIO CONTACT!"

The elf is already sweating bullets. The rush to find Takahara while Tyros and Sinjin can still walk is incalculable.

Doc passes canister after canister, searching frantically for the Japanese scientist.
He stops dead in his tracks and takes a few steps backward. Using his sleeve, Doc wipes a layer of condensation off of the plexi-glass viewing pane on a hydrogen canister. Takahara is inside! The Japanese scientist bangs against the glass and shouts at Doc, but any noise is rendered null from the canister's seal.

Adams motions to Max and Val.

"He's inside!" He hisses.

His eyes sweep the canister, looking for some means to open it.

Max runs over to the canister where Doc is standing; the panicked Japanese scientist on the other side screams voicelessly as he thrashes about trying to secure his own release. Max takes the chisel from his pack and sets about hammering at the seam between the canister and the viewing window with the butt of his shotgun.

((Posting now while I can, but not sure if Sinjin is supposed to go first since we have the same initiative. Also we get bonus dice gainst Omega for having multiple friendlies in melee.))

Tyros has never seen anyone move as quick as Omega. It's not just the sheer speed of the movements, it's speed coupled with perfect precision. The andriod really is a thing of unnatural awe. It's perfection is what makes it monsterous. Nothing that looks human should be so flawless.

Tyros wades in, mist swirling around his invisible form. The melee is moving incredibly fast, the two andriods intertwined in hand to hand combat leaves little room for the wide slashing motions favored by a claymore. The troll takes a big step and leaps to the side of Omega as the andriod swings towards its brother and makes a thrust towards its back, hoping to skewer the machine and sever whatever comprises its spine.

The hiss of vented coolant and the muffled steps of the Firestarter team fade from Sinjin's conscience as the thrill of combat ignites his nerves. Kneeling, his balled fists are marked by bone white knuckles hard as stone. Veins stand out on the backs of his hands, running in thick lines up his forearms and pulsing in time with the throbbing arteries that stand out from his neck like corded steel. He breathes heavily, in irregular gasps. Like a time lapse trideo, Sinjins muscles appear to bulge and grow like sapling tree limbs. He rises, his physical prowess fully manifested to face the indomitable machine before him.

((Attribute Boost.....if creating a feint or distraction is also a simple action, I will do that to confuse Omega.))

((Hah, thanks man I'm telling ya I'm just trying to keep up with you lot! Bunch of intelligent gentlemen that you are ;P ))

The android simply moves too fast for Tyros to connect with his swing.

(( You've got 3 extra strength for 6 combat rounds. Make 'em count! ))

Max's efforts with the chisel prove futile. From the construction of the canister, it becomes apparent that opening is triggered electronically.

Max drops the chisel in frustration and beats the soft meat of his fist against the viewing window a single time. Turning to Val, he growls,

"Do that voodoo that you do. I've got your back."

The elf raises his shock-gloved fist and stands at the ready to guard the decker.

Adams turns his back to the canister -- and the rather startled scientist trapped inside -- and starts to raise his rifle.

Dumbass, he thinks, suddenly remembering where he is. He lets the rifle rest back on its sling, and loads up the Knight Errant Self Defense activesoft. A now familiar, yet still alien sensation of dexterity fills his limbs.

He slips out a single syringe of Slab from his leather sharps case, and takes up a fighting stance that only his cybernetically augmented limbs know about. His left hand is balled up into a fist, and his right holds the needle, ready to strike.

((Well that depends entirely on how many net hits my luck can score against a 26 die defense roll! Something tells me hurting Omega is not in the cards this run.. ))

((I think we can take him. I'm rolling 19 dice against his 18, so over time we should be able to hurt him. I can always powerball him too, which auto hits, but doing so will almost certainly knock Tyros out so it has to be last resort.))

[ Omega = 53 ]
[ Alpha = 52 ]
[ Sinjin = 36 ]
[ Tyros = 30 ]

Omega uses the momentum from his duck to jump up and alternate kicks between Alpha and Sinjin.
Alpha lifts his knee and deflects the attack. Sinjin crosses his arms over his chest just in the nick of time, as the impossibly strong leg buffets off his forearms.

His heart ready to pound through his ribcage at the sounds of battle echoing through the room, Val makes a rapid circuit of the hydrogen tank, looking for physical electronic components while simultaneously scanning for control nodes.

Every livid vein standing out on his forehead and forearms is a testament to Val's stress. Val knows he is an anxious man, perhaps sometimes a coward. What he doesn't realize is that, at this moment, he is as deep in his element as his mundane form can be. There comes, to men such as Val, a breaking point. A metamorphosis. A point when men cease to be who they are, and transcend themselves to become something more. A point when fear is forgotten, when self-preservation becomes a frivolous luxury, and when the brain relinquishes control of the body to the heart and soul. A point when men no longer serve a purpose, but become one with it instead. Val is there now, but he's too focused to realize it. The only thing he knows is that he will get Takahara out of that fragging tank. God have mercy on whoever, or whatever, tries to stop him, for Val certainly will not.

Alpha double-steps forward and delivers an open-handed strike to Omega's chest.
Omega extends his forearm, guiding the blow to glance off his shoulder.

Val cycles through the myriad of nodes belonging to the surrounding tanks, but his tunnel vision allows him to cut to the source like a scalpel. He identifies the proper wireless node for the canister's environmental control.

The smooth footwork of a practiced Adept keeps Sinjin in motion, weaving around and behind Omega as Alpha's attack misses. The first rule in an uneven fight is to exploit the advantage of numbers and keep your enemy surrounded. Of course, Sinjin does so without conscious thought, his lifelong discipline causing his body to react automatically and maneuver instinctively. As an opening registers, Sinjin steps forward and delivers a powerful side kick.

((Critical, Counterstrike, killing hands))

Omega shifts his weight and balances on one foot, forcing Sinjin's attack to slip past him.

(( You're up, Elliott. ))

To the novice viewer, the melee would appear hectic and chaotic. But to Tyros and the other combatants, the fight is a highly choreographed piece of art. The best kung foo movie doesn't hold a candle to the skill and speed of this fight. And yet, it's exactly this surreal quality that bothers the troll. No one should be able to fight three masters of hand to hand combat and win. It's simply another demonstration of the unnatural nature of the android. Tyros is determined to restore balance to the universe.

Ducking under flailing limbs, Tyros slides in low, sword following close behind towards the back of Omega's legs.

Barely a neuron has time to fire before Val begins to drop to a kneeling position, but he's deep in hot-sim VR space before his knee even reaches the ground. Before his limp form has finished toppling on its side --

-- Stat1C5hade has run his Stealth, Armor, and Biofeedback Filter programs, and is damned near ready for anything. Peripheral nodes streak by him like blazing comets as Stat1C5hade becomes a blur of smoke and shadow, hurtling through matrix space and throwing himself at the control node. A rippling shockwave rolls across the luminous surface of the firewall as Val's avatar strikes it at full speed, landing on all fours. He lifts his right fist to his cheek and plunges it into the firewall as if it were made of paper. His hands dig furiously, ripping away and discarding mangled bits of code which fade like morning mist under hell's own sun into the space behind him.

(( 3P DAMAGE! ))

A rivulet of blue blood ejects from a wound on the android's shoulder as the claymore strikes home!

Stat1C5hade works furiously, shuffling data back and forth, trying to find the one weakness that will glean him the access credentials he needs.

[ Omega = 45 ]
[ Alpha = 43 ]
[ Sinjin = 38 ]
[ Tyros = 30 ]

Omega doesn't seem to notice the wound that Tyros inflicted. He spins and sends a lethal karate chop at Alpha's neck.
(( 4S DAMAGE! ))

Alpha's body shudders as the kinetic force from the blow ripples through him, no doubt straining his skeletal structure.

Alpha springs up and delivers a quick uppercut.
(( 6S DAMAGE! ))

Omega's head snaps back as the blow connects!

(( Sinjin time. ))

((Nick, just realized I you have been rolling my old blades and agility scores. I upped them last time around. See the character sheet. I should roll 8 dice for blades and 5 dice for agility.))

While Val breaks into the security surrounding the canister imprisoning the scientist, Adams takes a moment to study the room they're in.

Even if they can get the scientist out and break away from the impossibly fast Omega, the team will still need an ace up their sleeve. Slicing off half a kilo of plastic explosives, Adams wedges it in between two of the hydrogen canisters, out of sight, and places a radio detonator in it.

Satisfied that the package won't be casually detected, he starts looking at the perimeter of the room and taking note of any doors or vent covers.

In the time that is not time, where milliseconds tick past like seasons and the spaces between thoughts loom broader than galaxies, the four combatants live lifetimes in every heartbeat. Every maneuver and its counter have already been decided, the outcome of the fight made fixed and inexorable. There is nothing for them now but to play out their parts like the works of a great clock, to continue the dance until time returns.

Sinjin feints left and pivots, spinning a full rotation off his right foot with a spring loaded haymaker in tow.

(( 3P DAMAGE! ))

Sinjin's haymaker connects to the sound of breaking cartilage and sends Omega off balance.

(( Tyros is up. ))

Tyros charges forward, swinging the claymore in a broad arc at the temporarily distracted android.
The giant sword sings through the air as it barely avoids hitting Omega.