Lord 's eyes set square on Lance's rifle. "Oh, hello."
Lord: Are you going to kill me?
Lord drops his eyes to do a once-over of his body. "Again, I'm assuming?"
Lance Ryter walks slowly towards the med-bay, racking his brain on how to get Mike back into the action, he turns around and faces Lord. "Uh.. not again, no."
Lance Ryter: What name do you go by, Synth?
Lance Ryter: Can you retrieve anything from your memory?
Lord struggles to get to his feet; once there, he wavers in place for a minute or two. It's like he's feeling the ground beneath his feet for the first time. "I'm... I'm sure I don't know."
Lord looks around the corridor quizically. "I can try."
Lance Ryter: No!
Lord: No?
Lance Ryter calms his tone down a bit, putting on a poker face. "I mean, uh, I'm sure none of that is relevant."
Lord pauses, before bowing his head lowly. "As you wish, user. And what should I call you?"
Lance Ryter: Ryter, just call me Ryter.
Lance Ryter: I've got a good name for you, Synth.
Lord: Very well, Master Ryter.
Lance Ryter: How 'bout Bishop, eh?
Lord has changed their name to Bishop.
Lance Ryter: // you're welcome grom
Bishop: Sounds good. One moment - I'll store that someplace safe.
Lance Ryter: I want you to make something clear to me right now, who do you answer to, Bishop?
Bishop: **Again, Bishop pauses. He seems to consider the question carefully. "I do not know, Master Ryter."
Bishop: My creator, I suppose.
Bishop: He whose identity I do not know.
Lance Ryter: You just called me Master - does that mean you answer to me for now?
Bishop: I answer to my creator; my programmer. I call you Master because I see no ring on your finger - is this an out-of-turn assumption?
Lance Ryter: Just call me Ryter, can you do something for me?
Lance Ryter: I need you to do this to preserve my safety, and yours.
Bishop: That depends - are you my programmer?
Lance Ryter: No, but both of our lives are at risk.
Lance Ryter: If you don't do what I ask, I can't keep you around me.
Bishop 's face bends into an unnatural frown. "If I assist you, can you promise me something in turn?"
Grom: //oh god americans everywhere
Lance Ryter raises an eyebrow. "Depends what that promise is."
Bishop: I need you to direct me to my creator.
Bishop: I am in need of directives.
Lance Ryter: I can't promise you that, Bishop.
Lance Ryter: I don't know who your creator is.
Bishop doesn't skip a beat, "Can you find a human who does?"
Lance Ryter: I do have one friend who could help, but we'd need to hurry this up if we want to make that possible.
Bishop blinks and replies flatly, "If those are your terms."
Lance Ryter: Now will you hear what I need you to do?
Bishop nods once. "I will hear what you need me to do."
Lance Ryter: I need you to destroy any chance of recovering your past memories up to when you met me just now.
Lance Ryter: Understood?
Bishop: Understood. One moment.
Bishop 's eyes glaze and his expression, like his posture, become ram-rod stiff. Not two seconds later, his eyes blast back to Lance's. "Done."
Lance Ryter nods. "I'll take your word for it."
Lance Ryter: Hey, maybe you could help me.
Lance Ryter: Do you have anything in your programming regarding auto-meds?
Bishop: **"Yeah." A twitch. "Yes." His personality matrix seems to be malfunctioning; his demeanour alternates every now and then.
Grom: //THEYR COMIN UP DA ROAD
Lance Ryter turns around instantly, beckoning for the synth to follow him into the med-bay. "C'mon."
Lance Ryter: // I'd get ready to be involved grom
Lance Ryter: // you're the autodoc, remember?
Bishop cracks what one can only hope is his neck, and follows along robotically.
Grom: //ill quit soon
Lance Ryter: // try: now
Lance Ryter gestures over to the autodoc. "I can only use the basic interface, and I can't get it to fully operational status."
Bishop: **The machine lights up with a warm blue aura as the two approach. Bishop scrutinizes the hardware.
Lance Ryter: I've got a man inside on life support, and I need him up and healthy right away.
Lance Ryter: I've got no time to spare, Bishop, make this quick.
Bishop nods and lays his hands on the machine thoughtfully. "He is in a critical state; he would be dead without the autodoc's safeguards."
Bishop: What would you have me do, Master Ryter?
Grom has changed their name to Autodoc.
Autodoc: //THERE GEEZ
Lance Ryter: Try and get it to fully operational status, I need that man fixed, now.
Bishop 's voice drops monotone as he confers with the machine. "Unit nine-september-hotel-one, respond to query."
Lance Ryter mumbles under his breath. "No making binary love to it, either."
Autodoc: //what query i dont understand
Autodoc: //you cant just say respond to query you need to ASK A QUESTION
Bishop: //maybe it's a
Bishop: //BLUETOOTH QUERY
Bishop: //the most unspoken of queries
Autodoc: //y wud future hav blutoth
Bishop: //wireless HUMOR ME FGT
Bishop: //LOL i was txting this girl last night
Bishop: // and i told her to humor me
Bishop: // and she's like what does that mean? i'm not very good at jokes
Lance Ryter: // wat a dum bich
Bishop: //i laughed at her
Autodoc beeps softly. "To continue connection, enter a valid username and password."
Bishop: // AND CALLED HER STUPID
Lance Ryter: Username and password are: Mike O'Connel and Hockey, if that helps.
Bishop pays no mind to Lance. "Username: AKKU-MM2. Password: Not applicable."
Autodoc: Maintenance mode: engaged.
Autodoc: Welcome, USER.
Bishop: Divert primary processes to patient recovery. Inaction code: scarlet.
Autodoc: Warning: reserve generator power insufficient for full recovery.
Autodoc: Primary power connection is damaged. Unit functioning on reserve generator power.
Lance Ryter: I've got some charge packs, but I didn't know what to do with them.
Lance Ryter slides them along the ground towards Bishop.
Bishop addresses Lance without expression, nor movement. "There is a power junction box outside this room. Access it with what tools you have, and disconnect all non-essential systems."
Bishop: There - zzt, there should be enough juice singin' through the - sufficient for the process, and nothing more.
Lance Ryter: Uh, why me?
Lance Ryter: You're better with this stuff.
Bishop: I will have to be adjacent to the unit the moment the power is automatically re-routed for me to create the necessary modifications to the autodoc's procedural database.
Lance Ryter: // you know what
Lance Ryter: // fuck rping that
Lance Ryter: // I WANT MIKE BACK
Lance Ryter: // GOD DAMNIT
Bishop: // GO FOOL
Lance Ryter does the thing with the box and fixes the thing
Lance Ryter: // OK DONe
Bishop 's head flicks upwards. He sniffs. "I am detecting unusual energy signatures approaching."
Bishop: We do not have time. Take the energy packs.
Bishop: I will re-manifest their power myself.
Lance Ryter: I've got that covered, but not for long.
Bishop: Attach them to the three ports at the back-side of the machine - where I am touching.
Lance Ryter grabs the two packs, hauling them to the back of the machine. "There's only two packs, though."
Bishop: This will do.
Lance Ryter crudely attaches one of the packs, making sure it doesn't fall off.
Lance Ryter repeats his actions with the second pack, almost dropping it on his hand. "Damn, too close."
Lance Ryter: Alright, go for it.
Bishop: **There is a distant crash, and the drifting sound of an explosion. It doesn't take long at all for the machine to begin humming loudly. "It is done. You will find the charge packs dead."
Lance Ryter: Didn't particularly need them anyway.
Lance Ryter: How long will the auto-med take to fix Mike?
Bishop: The process will take three minutes, at maximum power consumption.
Bishop: He will not feel well when he leaves the chamber.
Lance Ryter: Oh and when Mike gets out, he'll probably be delusional.
Lance Ryter: So if he starts yelling crazy things about you, ignore him, alright?
Lance Ryter: He's uh.. got a past with synths.
Lance Ryter: But he's not usually hostile towards them.
Bishop: Understood, Master Ryter.
Autodoc: //liar!!!
Lance Ryter: // SHUT UP
Bishop: //go autodoc
Bishop: //GO
Lance Ryter sits up on one of the medical beds. "So, tell me what else you've got programmed into you, Bishop."
Bishop: The Collin Pyon proto-personality core from the Trust database appears to have been corrupt. I may have 'spells', if you will, of personality, but for the most part I will adhere to my default synthetic programming.
Lance Ryter: Are there any more personality cores you can default to? Ones that work?
Bishop: Not now that my core has been installed.
Bishop: I would have to undergo a complete system re-write. I am unsure of how you managed to accomplish this last time.
Lance Ryter: It wasn't that complicated, I'll tell you that.
Lance Ryter: Why don't you check on the autodoc's process?
Bishop: I am surprised. You must be talented, Master Ryter.
Bishop: **Another explosion. Muffled yelling. The autodoc's humming ceases, and it emits a sharp BEEP.
Bishop: You may open it now, Master Ryter.
Bishop: The process has been finalized.
Lance Ryter slowly approaches the machine, speaking in a nervous tone. "Release patient."
Autodoc opens with a hiss of releasing oxegyn. Abruptly, Mike falls out, landing face-first on the ground.
Lance Ryter: Uh.. sorry about that, Mikey.
Lance Ryter: Can you hear me, Mike?
Lance Ryter: Are you alright?
Autodoc has changed their name to Mike O'Connel.
Lance Ryter: // MIKE!? MIKE!? MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE!?
Mike O'Connel groans quietly, still lying face-down and coated with blue gunk.
Bishop has changed their name to Jasper Tull.
Lance Ryter: I'll take that as a yes.
Jasper Tull: **From his shoulder, Lance's radio blares, hisses, and finally dulls to the familiar tone of Jasper's impatient voice. Unsurprisingly enough, he sounds puffed, and scared. "Lance, come in! Come /in/!"
Lance Ryter bends down, grasping onto Mike's shoulders. He carefully lifts him up as his radio buzzes. "What is it, Jas?"
Jasper Tull: I'm at a safe location - for now. My access to the system is limited, but I still have active schematics of the Texas - I'd say you've got two minutes before Milo's mech squad is breathing - or, perhaps more likely - blasting down your neck!
Mike O'Connel slumps back against the autodoc, clutching at his head. "Ugh.. what the hell happened...?"
Lance Ryter: You haven't exposed yourself yet, right?
Jasper Tull: Not yet, but you give the word and I'll slam those blast doors down.
Lance Ryter: No, Jas, don't do it at all, we're pretty much good to go.
Lance Ryter: There's no time to explain Mike, we need to get the hell out of here.
Jasper Tull breaths a sigh of blissful relief. "I was hoping you might say that. Take the North exit to the Metro station; get outta there."
Jasper Tull: Looks like it's just you and Mike on your level for now.
Lance Ryter takes Bishop's pistol from his holster, tossing it over towards him. "I hope you remember how to use this."
Lance Ryter: Not exactly.
Mike O'Connel: //over to bishop?
Lance Ryter: // yes
Jasper Tull: **Bishop catches the pistol, laps his eyes all over it and nods. "Yes. A standard-issue Trust IBK side-arm; high-powered, short-ranged."
Mike O'Connel slowly looks around the room groggily, his gaze coming to rest on Lance. His eyes widen and he reaches for his hip, but his pistol seems to be gone.
Lance Ryter then takes his own pistol from his other holster, handing it over to Mike. "Can you shoot straight, Mike?"
Mike O'Connel: You-
Jasper Tull: What do you mean - not exactly?
Mike O'Connel looks at the pistol in his hand, then brings it up and levels it at Lance. "Right."
Lance Ryter: The Synth's here too, it's a long story.
Jasper Tull: The Synth? Is it dead?
Mike O'Connel: Stop talking, Lance.
Lance Ryter: Hold on, I'll go outside.
Lance Ryter steps outside of the med-bay, sealing the door. "It's with me now."
Mike O'Connel: //b-but
Mike O'Connel: //pistol aimed at you :(
Lance Ryter: "I made sure it has no idea what happened before."
Lance Ryter: // dunno why I put those there
Jasper Tull: **Bishop instantly detects a badly-disguised agression. "I suggest caution, Master Ryker - Master O'Connel is thinking of doing bad things."
Mike O'Connel: //like aiming a pistol at him
Lance Ryter: // I'M OUTSIDE
Mike O'Connel: //that's a big one
Lance Ryter: // FUK U BOTH
Jasper Tull: // no
Lance Ryter: // also lance pretty much shrugged your little hold up off
Jasper Tull: //NO
Jasper Tull: / NOOO@MM!@
Lance Ryter: // SIF YOU'D SHOOT
Mike O'Connel: //he would have shot in the AIR to SCARE you
Jasper Tull: **Bishop turns to the doorway, "Should I kill him, Master Ryker?"
Lance Ryter: // I CAN'T HEAR YOU
Jasper Tull: What's that voice? What is going on?
Mike O'Connel blinks, then brings the pistol around to aim at the synth. "Fine. Then I'll get anwers from you."
Jasper Tull has changed their name to Bishop.
Lance Ryter watches through the glass as Mike turns his attention to Bishop. "Shit, Jas, I'll explain later."
Bishop already has his pistol trained on the aggressor. "I strongly suggest lowering your side-arm, Master O'Connel."
Bishop: This is a fight you surely cannot win.
Mike O'Connel: You first.
Lance Ryter charges back into the med-bay, becoming increasingly frustrated. "Both of you, chill the /fuck/ out."
Bishop: My post-battle scars indicate another, perhaps just as foolish, dared to test my strength. He is undoubtably dead.
Mike O'Connel snaps the pistol back around to Lance. "Shut up."
Lance Ryter: We've got a death squad heading our way right now, and if we don't get the fuck out of here then it won't even fucking /matter/ if you shoot me!
Bishop: **Another explosion. Much closer.
Mike O'Connel: You gunned down a squad of your own colleagues.
Lance Ryter: I saved your life, Mike.
Lance Ryter: And I had to go through hell to do it.
Mike O'Connel considers this for a moment. "Doesn't explain why you shot at me in the first place."
Bishop lowers his sidearm without hesitation, nor any sense of vindication. "As you wish."
Lance Ryter: Mike, your "colleagues" are going to kill you all the same if we don't go right now, you're going to have to trust me on this one.
Mike O'Connel: Like hell they will.
Mike O'Connel: You're coming with me.
Lance Ryter nods his head at Bishop.
Mike O'Connel: Maybe I can convince the tribunal you snapped under pressure.
Lance Ryter: No, Mike, you're coming with /me/.
Bishop lifts his pistol back to Mike. "I suggest you comply, Master O'Connel."
Mike O'Connel: Or what - you'll shoot me?
Bishop: Master Ryter's vitals indicate he is under an impressive amount of mental pressure.
Mike O'Connel: You're, what, a training synth?
Lance Ryter: We're all gonna die anyway if you hold us up any longer, Mike.
Bishop: It is not an unlikely scenario that he might snap, and kill you.
Mike O'Connel: No. You're going to die if you don't come with me.
Mike O'Connel: We can talk this out.
Lance Ryter: Remember how you didn't even know who you were supposed to kill?
Lance Ryter: Milo doesn't either.
Mike O'Connel hesitates. "How'd you know-"
Lance Ryter: And he probably doesn't even care.
Lance Ryter: He'll shoot all of us in a heartbeat.
Mike O'Connel: No.
Lance Ryter: You see all of these dead bodies in here? They're dead because they shot first and asked questions later.
Mike O'Connel: I can talk to him.
Mike O'Connel: We'll get you a court martial.
Lance Ryter: Mike, you either come with us, or stay here.
Lance Ryter: Make your god damn mind up.
Mike O'Connel: Why would I go with the synth who shot me?
Lance Ryter: See, told you, random bullshit!
Bishop: **Suddenly, begins a constant crashing of metal. This melody almost sounds like the rhythm of footsteps.
Lance Ryter: Must be the drugs that's fucking with your head.
Lance Ryter: Mike, don't you remember the war?
Lance Ryter: Don't you remember what I did for you?
Lance Ryter: Don't you think you owe me this?
Bishop: May I remind you, Master Ryter, that the 'war' is stil very much in progress.
Lance Ryter disregards Bishop's statement, staying focused on Mike.
Lance Ryter: // fuk da robot man
Bishop: // :o u don't meen dat
Mike O'Connel hesitates for a long moment. "You mighta saved me. But you shot Jenkins, and Carter, and Don and Sam."
Mike O'Connel: Why?
Mike O'Connel: You knew them. All of them.
Lance Ryter: They shot first, Mike.
Mike O'Connel: No. No they didn't.
Mike O'Connel: We opened the door and you shot them.
Lance Ryter: They would have gotten a good look of my face after the lead was in the air.
Mike O'Connel: You shot them in cold blood!
Lance Ryter listens to the sound of footsteps become louder and louder, turning to Bishop. "Open the door."
Lance Ryter: You can either die here, or live with me Mike.
Bishop: Which one, Master Ryter?
Lance Ryter: I'll explain everything.
Lance Ryter: The one behind me.
Bishop moves over to the door in question. It slides open.
Mike O'Connel: I...
Lance Ryter de-mags his rifle, holding it neutrally.
Lance Ryter: It's now or never.
Mike O'Connel keeps the pistol level for a beat, then lowers it. "Godammit."
Mike O'Connel: You better have an explanation.
Mike O'Connel: Or I'm shooting you and the robot.
Lance Ryter chuckles. "I knew you'd come through, Mike."
Mike O'Connel: Don't call me Mike.
Mike O'Connel: You lost that privilege when you shot four of your friends.
Lance Ryter: Alright, both of you, we need to run to the right, North.
Lance Ryter: Then we need to get onto the metro - fast.
Bishop: **A voice suddenly reverberates down the hall, and the footsteps cease. "You are surrounded, criminals!"
Lance Ryter: Got it?
Bishop: **"Do not attempt to open fire, or you will be killed! Do not attempt to escape, or you will be killed!"
Lance Ryter slams his fist against the autodoc. "Fucking hell!"
Mike O'Connel: Right. Right, I can work with this.
Bishop: **"Any action that may be interpreted as a threat will be met with live-fire!"
Mike O'Connel brings the pistol up again. "Both of you drop the guns."
Lance Ryter 's eyes wanders over to his previous escape route, the vent. "No. In the vent, now."
Bishop: //THE VENT
Bishop: //ANSWER TO ALL SOLUTIONS
Mike O'Connel: I can talk you out of this.
Bishop: //RIP HL2RP
Mike O'Connel: Milo's not even a sergeant.
Lance Ryter raises his rifle, aiming it at Mike. "You shoot, we all die."
Lance Ryter: You get in the vent, we all live, including Milo."
Mike O'Connel: Just let me talk to them, Lance!
Bishop: **"You have a minute to comply, at which point we will subdue you by force!"
Lance Ryter: Do it, Mike.
Mike O'Connel: We'll sort out a trial.
Lance Ryter: Need I remind you what you did four years ago, Mike?
Lance Ryter: Who /you/ murdered?
Lance Ryter: Do I really need to bring that up?!
Mike O'Connel goes quiet. "That was... different."
Mike O'Connel: We were in a warzone, not a goddamn carrier!
Lance Ryter: It was not fucking different, Mike!
Lance Ryter: Those people weren't even armed, let alone shooting at you!
Lance Ryter: Now get in the god damn vent!
Mike O'Connel hesitates, then lowers the pistol. "Go."
Mike O'Connel: Get out of here.
Lance Ryter: No, you're coming, Mike.
Lance Ryter: Mark my words, they will kill you.
Mike O'Connel: I'm not a traitor.
Lance Ryter: Neither am I.
Mike O'Connel: Milo doesn't have the authority.
Lance Ryter: He has a squad and a gun.
Lance Ryter: That's all he needs.
Bishop: **The mechanical footsteps begin once again as the units take their positions around the perimetre. They anticipate a fight.
Lance Ryter: Vent. Now.
Mike O'Connel: No.
Lance Ryter signals for Bishop to hurry in, this is going to be a close call.
Mike O'Connel: Get out of here.
Lance Ryter: Fine, Mike! Fine!
Lance Ryter: Die a pointless death!
Bishop bows his head deeply, before hoisting himself up nimbly into the opening.
Lance Ryter: Just remember though, I'll be there at your funeral.
Lance Ryter speaks to Jasper over the radio. "Jasper, I need that vent in the med-bay resealed, ASAP."
Mike O'Connel tosses the pistol on the floor. "Don't call me Mike."
Lance Ryter slides himself into the vent, not before looking at Mike one last time. "Mike, don't do this, please."
Bishop: **Jasper's voice cuts through the drama: "Sure thing! Would it be too late to inform you about the current position of Milo's squad?!"
Mike O'Connel turns to the doorway. "Armsmaster Michael O'Connel here, Milo. The bastards sealed me in the room."
Mike O'Connel glances back at Lance. "Go. Get out of here."
Lance Ryter takes up his rifle, aiming at O'Connel's leg. "I'm sorry then, Mike."
Bishop: **There is no reply from Milo, nor his squad for a long moment. Finally, his voice comes slow and composed: "Come out with your hands up, and you will be spared, Michael."
Lance Ryter pulls the trigger sending a single round through his leg.
Lance Ryter: // put a comma in there somewhere
Mike O'Connel collapses to the ground, crying out in pain. Gunshots! Oh no!
Lance Ryter slides the rest of his body into the vent, just in time to let it seal.
Bishop: **The moment the shot is fired, a moment of disbelief threaded with an upkick of curses ripples through the scene.
Lance Ryter punches the metal above him, cursing Mike's actions. "It was the only thing I could do, damnit."
Bishop: **A veritable blade of gun-fire slices through the medbay door, completely eradicating anything that may have been in its way only moments ago.
Lance Ryter: If he was unscathed they would have thought it was him...
Mike O'Connel is fortunately shielded by the autodoc, and in his prone position manages to not die horribly thanks to Lance's incompetence!
Lance Ryter watches the blast door-grade vent cover, hoping that whatever was happening on the other side wasn't putting Mike in harm's way.
Mike O'Connel: //for friends you guys sure shoot a lot
Lance Ryter: // but ur an asshole
Mike O'Connel: //no he just doesn't believe in shooting innocent soldiers following orders!!!
Bishop: **There is a thundering explosion as the med-units closest to the door are destroyed in a simultaneous curve of high-powered weapons' fire, and the entrance to the room, along with anything near it is lost in the gaping jaw of a flaming, orange giant.
Lance Ryter: I can't take this anymore, Jas, can you patch me into the cameras?
Bishop: **"Which one?!" Jasper's voice is panicked - for someone nowhere near the action, he sure gets worked up easily.
Lance Ryter: Any of the ones in the med-bay, I /need/ to see if Mike's okay.
Bishop: **"Gimme a 'sec - what, Mike's not with you?"
Mike O'Connel wraps his arms around his head, curling into a ball as the explosion goes off.
Lance Ryter: I couldn't get him to understand.
Bishop: **The explosion drives its foot into the med-unit behind which Mike cowers, and it shudders and peels and buuuuuuuuuurns.
Bishop: **Beyond all comprehension, however: Mike himself is physically unscathed.
Mike O'Connel: //apart from minor scorching and a gunshot to the leg
Bishop: **The gunfire continues - granted, in waves between reloads lessening in intensity.
Bishop: // yeah well in that regard
Bishop: **Finally, with nary a thing in the med-lab left recognizable, the gunfire ceases.
Mike O'Connel: Jesus Christ! You got him, okay? You got him!
Lance Ryter: Status on those cameras, Jas?
Bishop: **Jasper sighs loudly. "Nope. I'm not getting any feed from any of the cameras around the med-bay."
Lance Ryter: Ach. What about radio chatteR?
Bishop: **"I'm sorry, Lance. I can't get anything for you."
Lance Ryter yells into his microphone in frustration. "Try harder!"
Bishop: **The armoured form of Lance Corporal Milo, accompanied by a pair of mechanized shock units, strides purposefully into the remains of the med-bay. He takes in an unsteady breath.
Mike O'Connel pushes himself shakily upright. "You got him. And half the medbay. But you got him."
Lance Ryter turns around, breathing out a heavy sigh. "Start moving Bishop, it's not like we're going back out there anyway."
Lance Ryter: Jas - where does this vent lead?
Bishop: **His eyes lick the walls of the room, and seeing nothing of interest, he drops his shoulders and nods across his shoulder. "We will lock down the room. Search -" He stops mid-sentence as O'Connel's voice pipes up from the smouldering chaos.
Bishop: // brb toilet
Lance Ryter: // wow l2rp
Mike O'Connel hobbles out from behind the medical unit, leaning heavily against it. "Stand down, lance-corporal."
Lance Ryter: I've got a feeling that Mike's gonna try and head us off at the metro, Jas, I don't think he trusts me one bit.
Lance Ryter: I need a new route.
Bishop: **The young corporal's features are long; outgrabe with despair. "O'Connel," he says quietly. "I was hoping it wouldn't be you I would find caught up in all of this." The two soldiers on either side of him raise their rifles.
Mike O'Connel: Stand down!
Lance Ryter: // ok can I just say if mike dies here I feel sorry for you grom
Mike O'Connel: You got the bastard.
Lance Ryter: // we've had you in a tube for an hour and now you're gonna die
Mike O'Connel: He put a bullet through my leg and when you started blasting, you got him.
Lance Ryter: // oh and fyi remember there was a massive shootout in the medbay so there would still have been bodies in there
Bishop begins forward without another word. He is as aware of the situation as he'd like, and makes no verbal observation. Jasper, in the mean time, is fretting with his equipment. He stammers: "Hold on... I'll try to find you the safest way to the Metro."
Bishop: **The shock troopers do not lower their weapons; in-fact, the only indication that they may be falling under the general chain of command are the strange looks they exchange behind Milo's back. Their stances do not waver.
Bishop: **"I truly am sorry," Milo says slowly, "The Trust made its orders clear."
Mike O'Connel gestures to the bodies. "Have them stand down, lance-corporal, and I'll explain."
Bishop: **Milo shakes his head grimly. "I'm not going to do that, Mike."
Mike O'Connel: That's armsmaster to you, Milo.
Mike O'Connel: You think the armsmaster of the Texas and a recipient of the Star of Honour would shoot his own squad?
Bishop: **The corporal hesistates for a moment. He nods away the troopers' weapons for the time being, and they comply. "You're a criminal now, Mike."
Mike O'Connel: Like hell.
Mike O'Connel: Ryter cracked. Came down and took me at gunpoint.
Bishop: "Austin made her instructions clear."
Mike O'Connel: Wanted me to work out a plea deal, then you turned up.
Mike O'Connel: //is austin a civilian?
Mike O'Connel: //like, nonmilitary?
Bishop: **"If it were up to me, you'd walk out of here decorated as the hero you've always been. But that cannot be the case."
Bishop: //yes she was employed by the Trust to overwatch the Texas for reasons unknown
Mike O'Connel: Austin can kiss my ass.
Mike O'Connel: She's a civilian.
Mike O'Connel: Ryter cracked and took me hostage.
Bishop: **"She's a politician, and Lord knows she has more power with her badge alone than anyone else on this ship."
Mike O'Connel: We'll see.
Mike O'Connel: General Grant might have a different view.
Bishop: **"General Grant doesn't know anything."
Bishop: **"Nobody does. Not even me."
Mike O'Connel: He will when I talk to him.
Mike O'Connel gestured to the bodies on the floor. "You got Ryter. Your squad managed to blast him and the rest of the medbay away before he could finish the job."
Mike O'Connel: Now let's all call this a job well done and I can get back to my damn job.
Lance Ryter: Listen - Jas, how much more can you dig up on the Minister?
Lance Ryter: Something tells me he's involved way deeper than we're aware.
Bishop: **"I'm to kill anyone down here - not to listen to anything they say. They're traitors - Baxtrin spies."
Bishop: **"It's their head, or my squad's."
Mike O'Connel stiffens. "Baxtrin?"
Bishop has changed their name to Jasper Tull.
Mike O'Connel: You come down and accuse me of working for /Baxtrin/?!
Jasper Tull: **Milo swallows. "The Union has its roots planted deeper than anyone knows."
Jasper Tull: Um.
Jasper Tull: Him? I don't know if there's anything else I could tell you without his name.
Mike O'Connel: I spent twelve years fighting the Union.
Mike O'Connel: Twelve years!
Lance Ryter: He's on this ship, Jas, and he's Baxtrin.
Lance Ryter: Something's not right, and I know it.
Mike O'Connel: I've won more medals than you've had hot dinners!
Lance Ryter: Someone who's with Trust is protecting him.
Mike O'Connel: The only reason I'm not a general with Grant is that I don't give a shit about politics!
Jasper Tull: **The lance corporal shakes his head slowly. "There's nothing more to be said, O'Connel. The situation is clear, and my squad has no desire to be put on the chopping block."
Mike O'Connel: Then you take me to see this politician.
Mike O'Connel: Then it's out of your hands.
Jasper Tull 's frown comes over the mic. "You have any ideas who?"
Jasper Tull has changed their name to Milo Cruikshank.
Mike O'Connel: I won't even tell General Grant about this little incident, which'll save you a decade in a military prison.
Lance Ryter: My first guess would be the General, but he'd never trust a Baxtrin, and I know that.
Lance Ryter: Hell, if he knew a Baxtrin was on his ship he'd go and kill him himself.
Mike O'Connel: //all gunnery sergeants are war heroes
Mike O'Connel: //see: halo
Lance Ryter: But then who else could be behind this?
Milo Cruikshank plucks his modified side-arm from his belt and holds it idly against his hip. "I'm afraid that's not an option."
Lance Ryter: No loyal Trust soldier would betray us like this.
Mike O'Connel: Then you can explain to Grant why you shot the man who saved his life.
Lance Ryter repeats his words back to himself. "No loyal Trust soldier."
Mike O'Connel: And to Austin when Grant has her political career burned to the ground.
Lance Ryter: Jas.. how much do you know about your boss?
Mike O'Connel: I'm sure she wouldn't take that well.
Milo Cruikshank adjusts something on the side of his pistol. "Your death is to be an accident."
Milo Cruikshank: Negligance. Nobody to blame but yourself.
Mike O'Connel: Like hell it is!
Mike O'Connel: You think that'd work?
Lance Ryter has changed their name to Jane Austin.
Milo Cruikshank: You'd be surprised.
Milo Cruikshank raises his pistol slowly. "There's only one option for me, Mike."
Jane Austin clops down the hallway in her high-heels, stepping over the pools of blood and dead bodies without breaking her stride.
Mike O'Connel: You expect the armsmaster of the Texas, a soldier with a fifteen-year career, would manage to shoot himself with a faulty pistol?
Milo Cruikshank: Austin has it in her mind that she can make it work.
Mike O'Connel: You pull that trigger and you're a dead man walking, Milo.
Jane Austin rounds the corner into the med-bay, tapping her foot.
Jane Austin: Cruikshank!
Milo Cruikshank 's face tightens. "Miss Austin."
Jane Austin: Is it done yet?
Jane Austin looks over Milo's shoulder, frowning. "Who is this?"
Mike O'Connel: Gunnery Sergeant Michael O'Connel.
Mike O'Connel: You might have heard of me.
Mike O'Connel: Now tell this kid to drop his gun before he hurts someone with it.
Jane Austin: Oh, the little boy who played soldier and shot some innocent people instead of the enemy?
Jane Austin: That O'Connel?
Mike O'Connel stiffens. "The O'Connel that hauled General Grant out of a compromised landing zone and could see your political career gone in the blink of an eye."
Mike O'Connel: /That/ O'Connel.
Jane Austin pushes her way past Milo, pushing the his pistol wielding arm down. "Ah, yes, of course."
Milo Cruikshank: **Milo mutters something quietly - perhaps a prayer - before turning unsteadily on his heel. "This... is a great man, Miss Austin." He raises, swings, and cocks his pistol as it meets the first mech unit standing stoic to his left. The shock unit turns, his expression masked by his full-body suit. "Run, O'Connel, you bastard."
Jane Austin turns to face Mike, the fire in her eyes practically lights up the side of the room he's standing on.
Milo Cruikshank: **The pistol discharges, and the soldier is blasted back against the wall.
Mike O'Connel: //b-but I had them talked down!
Milo Cruikshank: // he's an idiot
Milo Cruikshank: // but a brave one!
Jane Austin: Cruikshank, what the hell are you doing?!
Milo Cruikshank pops a second shot into the shock unit, before turning to dispatch of the second. He turns to Austin.
Mike O'Connel: //im not even guilty of a crime
Milo Cruikshank: // he then*
Jane Austin pulls out her concealed field knife from her long boot, ramming it towards Milo's stomach. "You fool!"
Mike O'Connel lunges forward, throwing himself at Austin. "No!"
Milo Cruikshank stumbles back into the doorway, where the remainder of his squad, hearing gunfire, has assembled.
Milo Cruikshank: **They stand idle, quite dumbfounded.
Jane Austin yanks the knife from Milo's stomach, just before Mike lands on top of her.
Jane Austin: "Squad, subdue this man immediately!"
Mike O'Connel: //what a shitty hardsuit
Jane Austin: // he's a sql
Jane Austin: // not a MECH MAN
Mike O'Connel bats the knife away, then moves over to Milo. "You will all stand down."
Jane Austin: // silent rps the troops, I believe
Jane Austin: // GO ON SILENT
Jane Austin: // OFF YOU GO
Milo Cruikshank drops his eyes to the wound at his stomach. He blinks, turns on his heel, and begins firing wildly into the med-bay towards Austin. "FOR THE TRUST!" He's quite beyond 'standing down'.
Jane Austin: // I'm not sure how to react to that
Mike O'Connel: // oh god he's insane
Mike O'Connel swings a fist around, aiming to connect with Milo's jaw.
Jane Austin: // if you fired at me you'd be firing at mike
Jane Austin: // how does that work
Jane Austin: // if mike can punch
Jane Austin: // oh god I'm confused
Milo Cruikshank: **The squad exchanges perplexed looks with one another, both of their mech units lying dead on the floor. They do the only thing they know - they start shooting.
Milo Cruikshank: // ok it's time for lance to save the day
Milo Cruikshank: // he's probably hearing the gunfire
Mike O'Connel: //INCOMPETENT FOOLS
Jane Austin: // THESE ARE THE WORST TRAINED SQUADS I'VE EVER SEEN
Mike O'Connel: //I WANTED TO TALK THIS OUT
Jane Austin: // TRUST ELITE MY ASS
Milo Cruikshank: // this isn't gauntlet
Milo Cruikshank: // these are just grunts hyped up on combat drugs and given guns
Milo Cruikshank: // probably why milo's being such a hero
Jane Austin: // also he couldn't hear anything through the vent
Milo Cruikshank: // ok we'll just see who dies
Jane Austin rolls off to the side, towards the autodoc Mike previously hid behind, she pulls out a small metallic sphere.
Milo Cruikshank: **Milo is struck in the jaw by O'Connel's fist and drops to the ground. His pistol fires into the ceiling as it strikes the floor.
Mike O'Connel kicks the weapon away, yelling to the soldiers. "Stand down! That is a direct order!"
Mike O'Connel: //now we see if they listen to a whiny politician or a war hero gunnery sergeant!
Milo Cruikshank: **The squad's projectiles fly wildly into the room, blowing already seared plaster from the walls. They do not hear the order.
Jane Austin presses on the sphere, loading up a small hologram of the Minister.
Mike O'Connel raises his voice as loud as he can. "Stand down!"
Jane Austin: Sir, I need you to get these soldiers to stand down, /now/!
Jane Austin: // MORE SHIT FOR YOU TO RP SILENT, HOORAH!
Mike O'Connel: //why go to a civilian?
Mike O'Connel: //just ask the captain
Milo Cruikshank: **As the squad drop their mags to the floor, ready for another volley of pointless violence, their ears prick to O'Connel's order.
Mike O'Connel: You will stand down, or so help me, I'll see you all on KP for the rest of your careers!
Milo Cruikshank: **They look around the room. Their two elite units are dead, their SQL is lying unconcious on the floor, and a war hero accused of being a spy is screaming at them to stand down.
Jane Austin steps out from behind the autodoc, brandishing a full size hologram of the Minister.
Milo Cruikshank: // btw the Minister is a bad guy
Jane Austin: // and so is austin
Jane Austin: // IT MAKES SENSE
Jane Austin: You have no idea what kind of power you have angered today, Michael!
Milo Cruikshank: // oh are you rping him
Milo Cruikshank: // wait no
Milo Cruikshank: // i shall
Jane Austin: // that was jane
Jane Austin: Behold! The glory of the Minister!
Jane Austin ducks back behind the autodoc.
Milo Cruikshank: **The Minister clears his throat. From the image of his face against a backdrop of patterened chrome and the distant crashing of machinery, a more informed man would come to the conclusion that he has to be somewhere near engineering. "Hello," he says slowly, rolling the syllables off his tongue, "I find myself in a spot of bother."
Mike O'Connel doesn't look impressed.
Mike O'Connel: //oh look a hologram of some random guy I don't know
Mike O'Connel: //fancy
Milo Cruikshank: "You see - it has come to my attention that are making trouble for my operations on this ship, Mister O'Connel."
Jane Austin: **The squad members, in their testosterone fueled state are entranced by the hologram, staring at it blankly.
Jane Austin: // state,*
Mike O'Connel: I believe I just saved this lady's life.
Milo Cruikshank: "Now," he continues, pacing backwards and forwards off the capture of the screen every few seconds, "I'm not one for many words, so let me make this abundantly clear."
Milo Cruikshank: "You will be bothering neither myself, nor my friend Lance, any longer."
Milo Cruikshank: **The hologram disappears. In the moments following the disapparation of the image, the device begins beeping.
Milo Cruikshank: **The comlink attached to Austin's ear hisses in the intervals of the beeps. "You've served me well, daughter."
Milo Cruikshank: "Goodbye."
Milo Cruikshank has changed their name to Jasper Tull.
Jane Austin: What do you mean fathe-
Jasper Tull: //now would be a good time to run
Jasper Tull: //grom
Mike O'Connel: //sry was grabbing clothes
Mike O'Connel blinks once. "Move!"
Jasper Tull: **Nobody responds.
Mike O'Connel grabs Milo by the arm and begins moving towards the door.
Jasper Tull: **The two have pushed past the oblivious troop of soldiers into the corridor when the device explodes.
Jane Austin stands over the beeping device, and in her last breath, yells. "For the Union!"
Mike O'Connel: //wow what a spy
Mike O'Connel: //also beeping bombs are silly
Mike O'Connel: //they should just go off
Jasper Tull: // IT NEEDED TIME TO ARM OK?
Jasper Tull: ??
Jane Austin: // the minister only wanted to kill jane
Jasper Tull: ???
Jane Austin: // for some fucked up reason
Jasper Tull: **While not being a particulary powerful explosion, it is more than enough to tear the supports of the entire medical bay apart, kill every remaining member of Milo's squad, bring the entire bay down into rubble, and blast Milo and O'Connel into a deep unconciousness.