A Swordsman,Cyborg, and a Puppeteer;Shenanigans Commence Oct 26, 2014 18:37:48 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Oct 26, 2014 18:37:48 GMT -5
By the time the small assault team had regrouped in the now badly damaged foyer, Whether by walking or falling through the roof, the longarm had managed to get up and begin walking. He had been lying on the floor when Suriko fell from the ceiling, followed by the crumbling rocks of the floor above. Groaning in pain, the scientist had managed to stand up, and make his way over to the pile. Thankfully, the swordsman seemed to have ended up being missed by most of the rocks. He was still buried, however. With a sigh, the scientist had begun pulling rubble away, aided by Reginald. Eventually, the pair managed to pull Suriko out of the heap.
His own body ached, and he was covered in bruises, but nothing seemed broken. He certainly wasn't in any danger of death. Still, even the few blows from the massive arms of the murderous, walking corpse he had been fighting had taken a severe toll. Looking around the utterly trashed room, desks sitting in heaps against the sides of the room, gouges and cracks in the floors, the term Glass Cannon came to mind. Still, there was little the scientist could do about his weak endurance. His body was designed for speed, and damage levels were high in his fights thus far. Of the so-called "Combat Triangle", he filled out two of the points well enough. Something had to give, and it looked like it was his capacity to take a hit.
Wincing in pain a bit, as the strain from using that strange, flickering electrical mirage hung on him like a lead weight, dulling his movements, the doctor spoke. "Alright, Men. And Women. And Cyborgs. And, since I've apparently gone on a exhaustion-based tangent of overspecification, Midgets." Flynt's only response was a single stubby middle finger, held in the much taller man's direction, though without much actual rancor. One got the feeling this topic was a common one among Project CAZADOR's rather odd staff. Ignoring the insulting gesture, Flynn continued, "Assuming Officer Shuman and her group recovered their file, we've accomplished our goal here, with the added benefit of eliminating a fair portion of the remaining rogue experiments."
Turning towards the door, he began plodding towards the exit, Shuman, Reginald and Flynt falling in behind him after a last look around. The ensign was calculating something in her head, as evidenced by the rapid movement of her thumb and fingers, tracking numerous variables. Wermengard may have essentially enlisted a random hairdresser, but the woman was a wizard at what she did. Reginald and Flynt were already discussing, in whispered tones, getting a few Cleaner squads together and clearing out the last few zombies from the lab's halls. It was something Flynn would have had the group do here and now, but everyone looked worn out, and there was business to take care of. In addition, Suriko and Mari probably didn't need to be subjected to a tense, running fight against an unknown number of assailants for longer than necessary. No soldier enjoyed that.
As the group headed back down the undersea tunnel, The Jr. Lieutenant raised a hand and spoke for a moment. "I'm going to entrust Shuman and Mari with handing the files over to Wermengard. His office is on the way to the female barracks, and Suriko and I need to go make sure we don't have fuel leaking into our bodies. The Anderson brothers over here might need to go see the medic, but like Shuman and Mari, after that, they're dismissed until tomorrow. I expect the boss will want to see us then, but right now, rest and medical attention."
That said, Flynn beckoned Suriko to follow him, and began walking ahead, wincing a bit as his worn body grouched about the movement. As the tunnel ended, he exited to the right, heading towards the laboratory area of the large base. The massive peaks of the mountain had been carved out into the base interior, but the area they entered now was a dead caldera, that had been opened to the sky since long before G-6 was founded. Set in the middle of the numerous peaks, it acted as the hub for the Peace Route base. As the controlling base of the Paradise route with the most Marine activity, it was understandably quite large.
The ruddy hue of the sky, tinted by the sinking of the sun, coincided with a slowing of activity in the Hub. People were off work, heading to barracks, rooms, or one of the various watering holes in the base. The noise in the wide open space was muffled or far away, with the exception of one group, exiting a nearby tunnel. Several Marines, looking quite lost, were glancing around and arguing with each other. One turned to look across the plaza, and spied the unmistakable figure of Flynn walking across, his form outlined by the dusky atmosphere above. "Hey! Hey, I think that's him." The group turned to look, and then, one of the members glancing at a file in his hands first, began jogging across the open space towards the cyborg
"Are you Dr. Flynn Toctic? Sir?" The respectful addition to the end came after the perceptive Marine noticed the coat on Flynn's back, and quickly deduced that he was speaking to an officer. Despite the differing style, the long coat with Justice on the back would not have been tolerated by the brass in any other case. Rubbing the back of his aching head, the scientist nodded. "Yes, that would be me.You're the men I requested be transferred?" There was a brief chorus of "Yes, yep, mmhmm" from the assembled crowd. "I suppose, given your confused looks, you have a few questions. Allow me to guess. It has something to do with why every one of you was court-martialed, demoted, or otherwised punished before I requested your transfer?"
The group of Marines looked massively hesitant to respond, but eventually, one stepped forward, and gave a breif nod. "If it's all the same to you sir, I would rather not be used as experiment fodder. I'll take my chances with working back up through the ranks." The man turned to leave, before shivering. Flynn was glowering at him with a gaze colder than dry ice. "Is THAT the conclusion you all drew? Frankly, I'm disappointed. I know you're all smarter than that." Whipping a hand out in a dramatic point, the Seaman Recruit that had been about to leave jumped as a long white finger nearly touched his nose. "Recruit Douglas Kirchnov, demoted for questioning his superior's orders. The following fight was long, drawn out, and costly, significantly delaying the rest of the operation. If he had gone with the plan you were trying for, he would have surprised most of the enemy with an ambush."
Turning to a man standing to his left, Flynn pointed again. "Warrant Officer Randolph Peters, Courtmartialed for cowardice. The situation was an obvious trap, but your commander was too damn stupid to realize it." Spreading his arms wide, the cyborg looked out at the group, who were slowly breaking into interested smiles. "Now we're getting it. I picked you because all of you showed that you were willing to disobey idiotic orders to accomplish the goal. You were smart! You understood tactics!" Grinning widely, he clenched one hand into a fist. "I've been watching the dispatches, investigating as far and wide as I could. I'm going to be commanding the newly revived 22nd Division soon, and I don't want another group of mindless morons who think every fight can be won by simply charging directly at the enemy. I don't want mooks. I want SOLDIERS." The assembled Marines were silent for a moment, and then began to move. In a moment, they were formed into a neat square, standing at attention. As one, the men saluted, smiles on their faces. CHIMERA's first soldiers stood before their leader, as from a balcony, high above, Vice Admiral Wermengard looked on in approval.