Nike feels her muscles begin to relax as the wolfpack retreats into the grasslands. She turns to check the status of the others, and sees the human female rapidly approaching her position and looking very frightened, but also determined. "So she wasn't in on it," Nike thinks, thankful that at least that has been cleared up. She looks up the hill and sees Chelydra, aiming his weapon at a Wolfoid and looking as if he is going to pull the trigger. There seems to be no other wolves in sight. "Why isn't that one with his pack?" she wonders, and motions to the woman to join her as she moves in Chelydra's direction. Something seems strange about all of this.
And where is Percy? The strange feeling is quickly replaced by worry as she scans the area carefully while walking.
Zhaxier's eyes widen as he spots the medi-kit at the bottom of the last locker. But his hopes are immediately dashed as he realizes the futility of prying open the locked cabinet with nothing but bare bloodied knuckles.
"I'm getting out of here, and I'm surviving!" he tells himself out loud, trying to believe his own confidence-building words.
But the words seem hollow. He grabs his three possessions, blends, and tries the door handle. His hand shakes more with dread than with overexertion and loss of blood.
"That son of a bitch must have got Percy and now he wants a piece of me. Seems to have a bit more brass than his pack mates, so let's give him some lead to go with it." The former security officer's temper blazes white hot at the thought that he may have now lost two of his companions. This is not turning out to be a good op. After he puts this wolfman out of his misery, the group is going to have to get its act together fast while there are still any of them left.
"No wait! It's me, Percy!" the human turned Wolfoid shouts. It comes out sounding less like five words of English and more like five growls of wolfspeak, and Percy knows as he speaks that he will have to do something more to convince Chelydra not to blast him. As he looks down to grimace at the fact that he has completely changed his form into a wolf creature, he sees that he is still in uniform.
He looks up, catches Chelydra's focus, and exclaims, "See my uniform?!" Of course, it comes across to Chelydra's ears sounding something like, "Wuauurughghr!"
COMPUTER TIME LOG - DAY ONE
13:41 SCAN ENVIRO-TERRA ROOM
13:42 SCANNING ROOMS FOR B2
13:43 LOCATION CONTAINMENT INITIATED
13:43 CONTINUING SURVEILLANCE-LINK
.........-STATUS: 3 INDIVIDUALS IN TERRA 239837-E11
.........-STATUS: 1 INDIVIDUAL / UNKNOWN
13:44 CONTINUE PROGRAM:
.........-FAIL SAFE 2
.........-CONTAIN A1 GROUP 1 / IN TRANSIT
.........-CONTAIN B2 GROUP 2 / CONTACT LOST
Just the thought of facing the pack leader again makes Nike's skin crawl uneasily, and she shivers to think that the fiend and its remaining cohorts even now may be planning their deaths as surely as some disease. Nike takes the comely blonde firmly by the arm (she does nothing more than look at Nike's grip), and leads her swiftly down the ravine, across the shallow creek, and up the hillside to Percy and Chelydra. If the blonde intended to protest the action, she holds her tongue instead and lets herself be led away.
Fate is fortunate to Percy this day, as Chelydra does not fire his weapon when Percy (and his uniform) come into focus. He bursts into a scoffing laughter when he realizes just how serious everything seems to be, but his laughter subsides as he glances at the bloodied wrench he still holds in his grasp. Externally, Percy feels almost supernaturally powerful. Internally, he feels as though he is masquerading as a man. "I guess we always have to be on the lookout," he adds cheeringly (in Wolfoid).
"...And so the ship is lost, and we are lost, and the thought of finding who we are seems even more lost," says Chelydra huskily, fixing blank eyes at Percy, whom he almost shot mere moments before. "You really ard' to get a damn name-tag, Percy," Chelydra comments, resting the shotgun on his shoulder and feeling somewhat lost himself. Chelydra's words hold more truth than not. "Who are you?" Chelydra snaps, bringing the woman out of her dazed expression.
Noticing it is the turtle-man who speaks, she steps back closer to Nike. Her eyes dart back and forth between Percy and Chelydra. "Uhmm, I'm Amanda. I've been living here for about a week." Amanda pauses, looking back at Nike with a worried expression.
She wears a one-piece military green jumpsuit. A patch on the chest of her jumpsuit has a picture of an ellipsoidal ship, the word "WARDEN" above, and a white box below with "Mat./Rp." embroidered in red. Very pleasing to the eye and of medium build, Amanda is a little shorter than Nike. "I... I, I've been staying in a building over there," she gestures back toward the forest, off to the right of where you recently exited the forest. "I needed a drink. I have some apples there I could share," she offers. "It's going to get dark soon. We should go. It's not safe to be out here in the open." Amanda notices Nike still grips her arm, and she tries to force a polite smile.
Zhaxier tries the door handle. Like a radar echo bouncing from a distant object and returning to its source, the pain of Zhaxier's shoulder hammers through his arteries as he lightly places his other hand over the wound, flinching only slightly.
The door pops open easily. It is a very different type of door, one which swings open, hanging on hinges. The door makes a "zoorping" noise as it swings open. The force field outside drops the instant the door opens into a twenty foot wide corridor extending right and left out of sight. In a dozen areas in either direction, the corridor is blackened, littered with broken and exploded robot frames. Some of the lights overhead are out in those areas, but other lit areas make up for the ones which are out.
Slowly you enter the hall, moving out towards a large pile of useless junk and twisted metal. You yet might find something to pry open the cabinet you consider, scanning the items. To your surprise, elevator doors open up not three meters away and a mutated black tabby cat leaps out suddenly.
Claus's gold elliptical eyes and face present their usual glare of disagreement tugging at him impatiently. Moments before, the mutated cat had paced the small room in which he had become trapped: he had entered the room, and a moment later, it had closed behind him. He cannot remember much, having just recently fled a clone bank where he had awakened.
When the doors slide open, Claus leaps out into the hall, ready for anything. Directly across the hall, a door stands open, revealing a small room beyond. Approaching the door, he stops, noticing fresh drops of blood leading out of the room. His acute nose smells fresh blood very close, almost as if someone is standing nearby bleeding.
What do you do?
[A new player has joined:
Nike releases her grip on Amanda's arm and looks at Percy. "Well, you sure are different after that encounter, Percy!" she comments, laughing. They need some humor in this weird situation, she thinks.
"Do the wolfies know where you've been staying, and how to get at you there?" she queries of Amanda. She wants to avoid another confrontation with the canine family for the next 24 hours.
"We need to hole up some place and figure out our next move, and who we are," this last with a nod at Percy. "Her place is likely our best option for now.
"But before we go we should maybe check out the bad guys."
Chelydra drags the bodies into a rough line and begins gathering together weapons and any useful looking possessions. While checking the bodies, he also looks for any clues that may tell him more about these beings, from where they come, and whether they are likely to have angry friends looking for them.
"We all came out of the clone pods looking different, but these seem to be of a kind with each other. Are they locals or more clones?"
The smell of fresh blood fills his mind with thoughts of food. He follows his nose closer to the smell. His wiskers brush up against something and his eyes narrow. He backs away slowly. "I know someone is there. Show your self or I will hunt you down." He looks at the blood on the ground. "You won't make it very far judging by the amount of blood on the ground. You might as well show yourself before I have to get nasty."
Caught off guard by the mutant tabby cat, Zhaxier freezes like a side of beef as seen through the windows of Fuddrucker's ("Best Burgers this side of the Oort Cloud"). The thought of being lunch crosses his mind, and suddenly he is very hungry himself. If his blood or scent had not given him away, the sight of his possessions only partially hidden by his blended hand surely would have. His pulse races, threatening to pop his neck veins.
"Whoa there, Mr. Cat," Zhaxier trips over his words as he blends back into the electromagnetic spectrum. He is fully naked and carries only two small pads and a plastic card in his hand. He is also a nervous wreck, and the words (and assumptions) fly out of his mouth faster than a Moonwerk Scout out of dry dock.
"Dude, I'm on your side! Name's Zhaxier something---still can't remember the last name. The real me was a propulsion engineer and is probably dead, or else they wouldn't have activated us. Situation's FUBAR. Robots after my ass and the other clones. God knows why. See what one did to me already?" he turns his bruised and bloodied shoulder toward the cat.
"C'mon, this room here has gun lockers and a first aid kit with my name on it---all behind padlocks. Help me find a lever in this rubble so we can force them open!"
Percy tries not to look at Amanda, who seems still in fear of him. He certainly understands why. She seems to calm down, or so he figures, when she realizes that Nike and Chelydra are addressing him as a friend, but he still needs to assert control over his appearance if he is going to earn Amanda's trust. After all, it seems she is in the same boat as the rest of them: she's probably a newly released clone, hiding out here trying to survive and make sense of everything that is happening on the ship.
Percy holds up an outstretched hand in a stop signal at Chelydra's question about the origin of the Wolfoids. "Ok, I can do this," he thinks, closing his eyes. He tries to imagine himself as plain old Percy Jenkins, Warden systems technician. He puts his hands to his temples and forces an image of himself into his mind's eye.
He opens them, and looks down. He is back to normal, but his headache is suddenly back to the forefront of his list of agitations.
"Ok, sorry, I guess we got off to a wrong start. We all did, I presume!" he says, mostly to Amanda but addressing Nike and Chelydra as well. "I'm Percy Jenkins. This," he adds, indicating his other two clone bank escapees, "is Nike, and that's Chelydra." He offers his hand, pleasantly pale in color and wolf-hair free, in an attempted greeting.
"We're clones, activated today, and chased here by some crazy killer security robot. And we're trying to figure out what the heck is going on." His eyes rise and his eyebrows arch. "Waaaiitaminute---you've been here a week?" He laughs. "That makes you the tour guide!"
Finally he gets back to Chelydra's question and indicates the Wolfoids. "These wolfy folk and you don't seem to be getting along! What's the story of this environment bay anyway?"
COMPUTER TIME LOG - DAY ONE
13:45 SCAN ENVIRO-TERRA ROOM
13:46 SCAN LOCATION HALL 569181-K4
13:47 PROCEDURE INITIATED
13:48 CONTINUING 2 SURVEILLANCE-LINKS
.........-STATUS: 3 INDIVIDUALS IN TERRA 239837-E11
.........-STATUS: 3 INDIVIDUALs IN HALL 569181-K4
13:53 CONTINUE PROGRAM:
.........-FAIL SAFE 2
.........-CONTAIN A1 GROUP 1 / IN TRANSIT
.........-CONTAIN B2 GROUP 2 / IN HALL
Nike: "Do the wolfies know where you've been staying, and how to get at you there?"
Amanda listens as Nike speaks, her tenseness and fears abating for the moment. Amanda gestures off to the right of where you recently exited the forest. "No, I don't think they do. Besides, the wolfies don't enter the forest. In fact, they avoid it." Amanda's visible fear of everyone (excluding Nike) is apparent as she speaks, even though she tries her best to appear calm and relaxed.
Chelydra drags the four bodies into a rough line and gathers together four crude spears and a large hunting knife, but no other possessions, and nothing that tells him more about the Wolfoids, or from where they come.
Chelydra: "We all came out of the clone pods looking different, but these seem to be of a kind with each other. Are they locals or more clones?"
"They are native here, I believe," Amanda says curtly.
Standing near Nike seems to comfort her, or so Percy believes. After he introduces his comrades to Amanda, she reluctantly shakes his hand, but releases it quickly and listens uneasily to Percy's questions, no doubt wishing the entire situation to be over. "I don't know," Amanda answers him, tears appearing in her soft brown eyes, more out of fear of Percy than his questions.
Recognizing her sensitivity to him, Percy stops his questioning, stands impatiently and holds the four spears for Chelydra.
"Amanda, maybe you should lead us into your ubiquitous tangle you call home?" asks Nike with a slight smile, touching Amanda on the shoulder as she speaks. Amanda simply nods "yes."
Walking together in a tight group, the four of you cross the creek, climb the opposite ravine bank, and head off toward the forest. At a quick pace, a few minutes later all of you enter the forest and walk a good distance before arriving at a small, square, windowless building attached to the duralloy wall that circles the entire environmental bay.
A small, leather pack sits on the ground in front of the solid metal door. Amanda picks up the pack, digs into her pocket and removes a key. Using the key, she unlocks the door and enters, with all of you following. The door automatically closes and locks behind you.
Inside you find a mostly empty, very clean fifteen by fifteen foot room. There is a blanket on the floor in one corner of the room; a desk, a computer console, and chair in a different corner; and on the back wall, another windowless thick metal door. Lights in the ceiling illuminate the entire room.
"Here, take these." Opening the small pack, Amanda gives each of you an apple and a fist-sized loaf of homemade bread.
Before the two newly acquainted clones can decide what to do, a human-shaped robot from behind one of the piles of rubble where it was hiding and approaches Claus and Zhaxier. "Don't worry, I'm not one of those robots after your ass. I'm Tinker, formerly Moonwerk General Purpose Technical Support Unit 31454-0265-2." Tinker is battleship gray with a few scattered patches of rust. "Maybe I can be of some assistance?"
Very wary of the new robot, Zhaxier and Claus reluctantly follow Tinker into the weapons room. Removing a small drill from a hidden chest compartment, Tinker approaches the cabinet Zhaxier points to. Drilling out the lock and opening the cabinet takes Tinker but a few seconds.
Inside the weapons cabinet are five pistols, each hanging from a separate hook. At the bottom of the cabinet lies a green bag with a medical red cross on it. Grabbing the bag, Zhaxier moves over to the table, opens the bag, finds the injector, loads a new vial, and then injects himself in the shoulder with it. Zhaxier flinches slightly. The medi-kit holds 5 more doses. Tiny nano-bots fill Zhaxier's blood stream and begin racing toward any wounded area to repair it. Zhaxier's nasty purple and blue shoulder wound disappears in minutes, as does all his other minor wounds. Their duties completed, the nano-bots turn inactive and die. The entire process seems almost magical.
What do you do?
[Another new player joins:
"Zhaxier, I'd like to give these pistols a once over, but since you two don't seem to fully trust me yet, please remove and pocket the power cells while I do my job." After Zhaxier takes out the power cells, Tinker begins to examine and clean the laser pistols.
"Guys, if you don't mind, I'd like to tag along. I'm getting a little tired of lurking around down here by myself while Asimov-knows-what comes roaring through here breakfast, lunch, and supper. If you take me along, and protect me against moron 'tubecrawlers bearing engineering badges, I promise that I will be most helpful."
Tinker then hands back the newly repaired and cleaned pistols. "If you don't mind, I'd like to hang on to one of those shootin' irons, padner?" Tinker crosses his arms, and manages to give the impression that he's grinning at the duo. "Oh, and another thing---these other robots, tell me about them. I never know when I'm going to need some spare parts."
"Dudes, thanks for not eating/shooting me. What's your name, by the way, Sir Cat? Tinker, I may be one of your engineer-tubecrawlers," he shows the robot his ID card with his engineering access code, "but since you just likely saved my life, I guess I won't disassemble you for kicks!" Zhaxier grins widely and elbows the robot with glee. How his fortune has turned!
He takes a deep breath, one that doesn't hurt. He savors the sensation. "So my story is short. Some security robots started chasing me and three other clones after we hatched from this clone bank," he shows the robot the map on his data pad. "The one that winged me (even though I was invisible, the lucky bastard) looked like it had all the options for its class. It also trapped the others inside this forest room here. I was hoping to get back to them somehow. You know any shortcuts?"
Invigorated by the nano-bots and just plain life itself, Zhaxier's mouth runs a kilometer a minute, and he stops only briefly for another breath. "Oh, and how do you use one of these things? How many shots do I have?" he waves his pistol carelessly, causing the catman to duck reflexively. "Oh, sorry. And if any of the other lockers hold more powerful weapons, feel free to grab 'em. I for one like the feel of this one, and, as you can see, I'm running out of hands to hold my loot! Say, you see any bags in there, cat? Can I call you Stevens? Like, Cat Stevens, you know? Heheheh. Ah, Crikey, the guy probably died millenia ago.... Say, Tinker what year is it anyway? The data pad is giving me nonsense. Damn Y2K bug."
Claus watches the man ramble on, almost wishing he had atacked first and asked questions later. "I am Claus," he says to Zhaxier and Tinker, "You can call me that and only that." Claus goes and starts searching the other lockers. "I have to find something to cover that annoying man's ugly, hairless body," he thinks as he looks through the lockers.
"Okay, we have here two laser pistols, a rubber-slug thrower (also known as a conegun), a paralysis dart gun (also known as a pax), and a Mark V Blaster. How do you want to divvy them up? While you two try and figure out what you want, I'm going to rip this place apart and see if there's anything else here that we can use."
"Supes! I pick this one!" Zhaxier gestures with his pistol, again sending Claus flying for cover. "Oh, sorry Claus. Heheh. Heh. Wait 'til Chelydra sees this! Uh, so which one is this, Tinker? And maybe we should pick up as much ammo as we can find." He hands back four power cells to Tinker and, after fumbling a bit, manages to pop the remaining cell into his new pistol. It hums nicely.
"What you hold is a laser pistol, max range 200m, 10 shots per hydrogen energy cell. Not a bad choice."
Zhaxier looks with awe at his first sidearm. "Groovy...."
Nike looks around the room with much curiosity. She finds it odd that Amanda has bread---where did she find bread in the environmental bay? Apples she may have found on a tree, but bread? She wants an answer to the question, but Amanda seems a little fragile after her ordeal, and she doesn't want to freak her out. "That's the last thing I need," Nike thinks, "a freaked-out blonde!"
Still, the room feels safe enough, and they all need some rest and a chance for a communication session not rushed by necessity.
"Why don't we all sit down, eat a bit, and get to know one another. Then maybe we can exchange all that we remember from our respective pasts and bring one another up to speed. Sound good?" She tries to sound upbeat to encourage the motley crew.
"If nobody minds, I would like to take the blaster and the slug thrower. If it fits inside one of my tool carrying compartments, I would like to conceal the blaster somehow, and save it for a rainy day. Whoever takes point should take the dart gun with him. We should take prisoners whenever possible."
COMPUTER TIME LOG - DAY ONE
13:54 SCAN ENVIRO-TERRA ROOM
13:55 SCAN LOCATION HALL 569181-K4
13:56 PROCEDURE BETA INITIATED
13:57 CONTINUING 2 SURVEILLANCE-LINKS
.........-STATUS: 3 INDIVIDUALS IN TERRA 239837-E11
.........-STATUS: 3 INDIVIDUALs IN HALL 569181-K4
.........-SECURITY ON SITE / EXITS (RK)
13:59 CONTINUE PROGRAM:
.........-FAIL SAFE 2
.........-CONTAIN A1 GROUP 1 / IN CONTROL ROOM
.........-CONTAIN B2 GROUP 2 / IN WEAPONS ROOM
"Supes! I pick this one!" Zhaxier gestures with his laser pistol, again sending Claus flying for cover. "Oh, sorry Claus. Heheh. Heh."
Claus offers a toothy expression of disharmony which requires no words to understand his lack of amusement.
With no objections, Tinker collects the blaster and the slug thrower and adds both of them to his tool carrying compartments, filling the void space of two missing tools. Currently Tinker carries a standard Moonwerk-issued duralloy cutting torch and a small duralloy drill.
"I am Claus," he says to Zhaxier and Tinker, "You can call me that and only that."
Claus' voice resonates with bitter dignity, and he pauses for a second in mid-sentence to scratch an itch.
Tinker: "I'm going to rip this place apart and see if there's anything else here that we can use."
Tinker bubbles in a helpful tone and proceeds to drill out the next cabinet's lock. The compartment within the next cabinet opens to unveil two laser rifles, a rubber-slug throwing rifle with a large, thermal-imaging scope, and a shotgun. In the bottom of the cabinet is a box of shotgun shells.
Claus snatches the slug throwing rifle from its placement, leaps onto the table top, and with a dexterous hop, vaults to the door, rifle still in hand. "We got company coming.... lots of armed robots.... I hear them," hisses the tabby nervously. The elevator door across the hall opens automatically revealing an empty chamber. Claus shows his sharp fangs with a loud hiss in response.
Nike walks to the door on the back wall of the room. "Your key wouldn't happen to fit this door too, would it Amanda?" Amanda shakes her head negatively. Nike notices that the door doesn't have the normal keypad beside it---just a key hole and a plain handle-less duralloy door. The two air vents in the ceiling are only hand-sized.
Percy is silent, listening, an expression of impatience creeping over his face. When he can't stand the wait any longer, Percy bites into the sweet apple and approaches the vid-sceen, sitting down comfortably in the chair. With a few clicks, the full color vid-sceen lights up. It displays a partial map of the environmental area. "That's better," Percy comments out loud. "We must be down here where it says 'Control Room.'"
Peering over Percy's shoulder for a moment to examine the map, Nike circles the room, ending with Amanda who sits down on the blanket in one corner. Nike sits down in front of her sighing slightly, noting how clean the place is. There is not even a spec of dirt anywhere. Nike glances at the apple and loaf of homemade bread she still holds.
"Why don't we all sit down, eat a bit, and get to know one another. Then maybe we can exchange all that we remember from our respective pasts and bring one another up to speed. Sound good?" She tries to sound upbeat to encourage the motley crew.
Percy swivels in his chair to look towards Nike and Amanda. Both are very lovely looking women and pleasing to the eye. Chelydra double checks the safety on his shotgun, walks a few paces from the door and then stands it against the wall. He slides to the floor, leaning against the wall and eats hungrily. His apple is mushy on one side but he doesn't let that fact bother him. At least it isn't food cubes he thinks.
"Where did you get the food from, Amanda? Even I know you couldn't make the bread," Chelydra asks pointedly.
Amanda looks somewhat nervous at Chelydra. "When I first came here, something left the key for me. Now when I leave the empty pack outside, it returns the next day filled with food."
"Something?" asks Chelydra.
"I thought I saw something once. The air seemed to ripple almost as the thing moved. Maybe I imagined it," Amanda shrugs, looking at Nike.
What do you do?
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