Clusterfrag

The Shiawase Arms Riot Guard makes a satisfying THUNK as the slug leaves the chamber, muzzle flare reduced to a minimum by the sizable brake on the end of the barrel.
The shot ricochets off of the tunnel wall, just above Six.
Max's second shot is wide.

Doc fires two burst down the corridor at the rampaging cyber-zombie-thing, but can't seem to pin down the rapidly moving predator.

Despite the incredible complexity and military-grade encryption of the mag-lock, Val's sequencer quickly rotates through the cipher and collects the proper code. The decker quickly retrieves the device and stuffs it back in his bag, using the flat of his fist to trigger the touch-screen.

There's a low, grating rumble as the armory door begins to open.

Val hefts the FN HAR, emitting a flare of cover fire. "Go, go, go!"

Doc keeps low under the cover fire, and loops his arms under Pandora's shoulders, dragging her toward the now open door.

Max backpedals toward the door as he hears it open. The entire team is haggard, and Max's expression of terror and anxiety are written plainly upon his face. The elf fires once more before turning back and lunging for the open door.

(( Holy shit, 16 REA! And also holy shit, nice sequencer rolls Val))

Sinjin stoops to assist Doc in extracting the barely conscious Pandora from the doorway, grabbing hold of her ankles so the two can lift her clear of the ground and make a hasty, shuffling retreat. Once through the doorway, he looks back over a shoulder to holler at Val that they are clear of the tunnel.

"All through, Val! Get your ass in here and shut that damn door!"

Val shuffles backwards, spraying fire indiscriminately towards the approaching killer. As soon as he's over the threshold, he slams his palm down on the mag-lock touch-screen and the armory door slams shut with the finality of a sarcophagus lid on marble.

Max takes a moment to catch his breath with his hands on his knees. When he finally feels he can breathe again, he ventures to look around his surroundings as he hands Doc's SMG back to him.

Sinjin kneels over Pandora, fussing to remove the damaged bits of armor that conceal the wound taken in her encounter with Six. He may know next to nothing about medicine, but he's witnessed enough field dressage to know that Doc will need to get a good look if he's going to be able to help. Pandora shudders as he eases her out of the jointed battle suit, the whites of her eyes showing briefly as her eyelids flicker. Her face is slick with perspiration, and her frail disposition is a stark contrast to the proud and graceful figure she'd cut mere minutes before.

Sinjin looks to Doc, whose hard eyes shine keenly as he examines his patient,

"What does she need, Doc?"

((damn posting was too fast! Was playing golf otherwise I would have poweballed it!))

Safely inside the vault, Tyros slumps down against the wall.

"Watch me, I'm going to follow thing thing in astral space so we know where it goes and can escape when it is far enough away."

Closing his eyes, Tyros decoupled his spirit from his mortal coil and floats in the ether before zipping through the blast door and following Six to wherever the monstrosity might be heading (also roll assensing on it's aura to see what I can figure out).

Adams examines the woman's arm and the slash decorating it.

"Antidote should already be running through her system. I can only hope the poison she mentioned isn't too exotic," he says, pulling out his full medical toolkit to analyze the problem further.

(( Roll medical to see if Doc can work out what the poison is, and what's needed ))

The Legion armory resembles a large bank vault. The walls are polished plasteel, inundated with shelves and lockers. Nearly everything has been ransacked, with the exception of a rack of neatly arranged Ares Redline laser weapons. Upon closer inspection, the remaining Redlines appear to have damaged lenses. A series of knee-high canisters have been carefully stacked against one wall.

Doc analyzes Pandora's symptoms, pulse, and respiratory rate and cross-references against his internal knowledge of toxins. He concludes that Six's razors must contain a type of neuro-toxin that is shutting down Pandora's central nervous system. It's fortunate that he invested in high quality antidote slap patches. Fortunate too that the adept has such a resilient system. She won't be dying today, but the team's medic is still concerned with how long she'll be out of service.

Max lumbers wearily over to the canisters stacked against the wall to give them a closer inspection, giving one a gentle tap with his boot as he reaches it. Crouching down, he tries to get a sense of its weight and any distinguishing markings that may be on it.

Max spells out the chemical name that's inscribed on the canisters.

Hexo-fluoro-trinitrogene.

Without taking his eyes off the canisters, Max calls out over his shoulder,

"Hexo-fluoro-trinitrogene! Mean anything to any of you?"

Adams mentally strings the molecule together in his mind while he idly patches up the cut on Pandora's arm.

(( Roll chemistry knowledge ))

Doc recognizes the compound as a very unstable aerosol, one that reacts violently with oxygen and is typically used in flame throwers.

As he finishes bandaging Pandora's flesh wound, Doc shouts back,

"Yeah, it does. Don't fraggin' open that thing! Pop the seal, and it's going to go up, and go up hard."

Upon further explanation, Doc relays to Max that the gas reacts caustically with oxygen. The elf thinks for a moment, and says,

"Sounds like something that will make a nice immediate boom if we can shoot the canisters. How do you guys feel about trying to lure that thing in here as shooting the tanks on the way out?"

Val, taking a much needed break in the corner, eyes the canisters.

"The exploding part sounds good, but how about the getting-that-thing-in-the-room-with-us part?"

Max looks about the group, and says,

"Seems to me like somebody would have to stay in the room a moment longer as bait, essentially. Unless Tyros can grab the thing and levitate it off the ground to functionally hold it in stasis while we get clear..."

The elf turns his attention to Tyros, looking hopeful that the mage's powers might prove the answer to this very difficult and very violent riddle.

Sinjin sits crosslegged, arms folded above his knees to catch a moments rest in the temporary sanctuary of the armory.

"Perhaps Tyros could hold him. But it sounds like a lot of risk...and Im not sure any of us could move fast enough to get clear of this room without Six managing the same. Could we carry these things with us? Maybe roll 'em down the hallway and do some target practice when we encounter Six?"

Max, brainstorming further, suggests,

"We could always use them as a trap-- kind of like mines that we would set up in front of us or behind us-- and just shoot them when the thing is nearby. Do we have any way of knowing exactly how explosive we can expect them to be? What kind of distance do we need to be clear of them?"

(( Roll Demolitions maybe? Mine's only rank 2...I think Docs is higher))

Doc studies the barrels for a moment, trying to estimate the size of the explosion. (( Roll demolitions or chemistry again ))

"That's a lot of boom-juice per barrel, so we don't want to be anywhere near one when it goes up. We also won't want to place them too close together, unless we're trying for a sympathetic detonation."

"The material should go off on contact with air," he says, reloading his rifle with ex-explosive rounds, "but it couldn't hurt to give it an extra nudge," he grins.

Pandora stirs, making a sort of wheezing, coughing noise. The abrupt commotion reminds the team that they'll be down a man (or woman, in this case) for the fight with Six.

Doc estimates that a single canister (of which there 6) will create a fireball roughly 10 meters in diameters.

Max thinks about the facility, and proposes,

"If we set up a chain of these canisters, say, eight meters apart, we can wait for Six to come after us, shoot the one closest to us, and watch the chain explode down the line toward the fragger as he runs into the chemical fire."

((Tyros can't hear the discussion because genus in astral space following Six. What's happening with that Nick? Regarding the levitate plan, Six would get a contested strength roll. He is probably pretty strong...))

(( Sorry dudes, work has picked up this week. ))

Tyros feels a tugging sensation as his spirit is wrenched free from his body and thrust into the gray, inorganic astral version of the facility. The troll's incorporeal form slips through the heavy armory door and materializes on the other side. Following the meandering tunnel, he arrives in a large staging area, just in time to see something shifty and dark plunging a hand razor through a non-hermetic aura. The sight gives astral-Tyros the chills. Whatever Six is, he no longer contains even a hint of essence--making directly channeling mana to him completely impossible.

Whisking along the ether after the shadowy form of Six, Tyros follows the abomination as it continues it's mad slaughter of the Legion. As he waits for Six to get sufficiently far away from the team that they might have time to escape or set a trap, the troll Mage can't help but marvel at Six's terrible efficiency. Whatever made the creature was some sort of terrible genius that must needs be stopped.

Doc looks about the room to get his bearings, and take stock of any other entrances or exits.

"That might just work. We'll have to make sure that he follows us, and doesn't have a means to flank us through another corridor."