aaaaaaaagh_sky | National Guard Depot

The door that opens is not, strictly speaking, a door. Ellen wasn't able to find a working one near enough the National Guard building to use, so she had to fall back on the mouth of the drainage pipe that led out of Rock Creek Caverns. "Sorry about the smell," Ellen murmurs, "and the wet feet. This was the best access point I could get us."

Crossposts: http://aaaaaaaagh-sky.livejournal.com/58901.html

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

luvs_yogurt

Michael turns, scope up and finger on the trigger, and stares straight down the barrel at a patrolling unit.

"That can't be good." He rolls his thumb over the end of the scope to increase magnification, frowning.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

It's not. It's really not.

It's trundling along on its treads, slowly pacing the perimeter of the National Guard's old property, the biogel surrounding its brain glowing faintly.

From:

fullofmercy

Fantastic. Lost technology.

Robots, he reminds himself, but that doesn't make him feel any better about the thing moving so slowly towards them.

"Did I ever tell you," he says, conversationally, hefting the Punisher to his shoulder, "that I hate robots? I ran into a bunch of the murdering things the day I met Vash. Between the two of them, I'm amazed I got out alive."

He gives a heavy sigh.

"I don't suppose we'll be lucky enough for your rifle to take it out?"

From:

luvs_yogurt

His finger caresses the trigger as he lines up the crosshair; "Not lucky, but I've got skill on my side."

He aims for the clear dome showing it's brain taking one shot - and then a second to crack it open - a third sending the oddly pink brain matter tumbling into the dust and the unit falls backward unceremoniously.

"Not too bad."

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

No, indeed. Of course, the question is, can he do it again, or will Wolfwood have to step up? Because-

"Alert. Alert. Attempted security breach in progress. This is now a live fire zone. Civilians should leave the area immediately."

-the brain bot wasn't alone.

From:

fullofmercy

Oh. That's good.

The armor on the thing looks thick, but Wolfwood lays down fire anyhow, concentrating on the glass dome and the weaker-looking joints.

"I don't suppose anything like these were here the last time you saw this place?" he says, between bursts of gunfire.

From:

luvs_yogurt

"That would be a correct assumption, my friend." Michael frowned and drew his laser pistol - unloading as many support rounds as he could in the metal head-like part until between the two of them, the thing finally drops in a scraping collapsing of metal and whirring of damaged circuits.

"These look like they have artificial intelligence - probably not anything highly advanced, but enough that they're still running program two hundred years after the place got blown to hell. This kind of technology is more advanced robotics than what my world has... though, we're getting close."

And seeing it in action, that fact is kind of scary. "Theoretically, there should be one big mainframe computer that's keeping the program running - assuming it's anything like how technology works in my experience."

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

It was a successful fight. It was also a noisy one. And the only other living things for miles are just desperate enough to find... whatever they're after... that when they hear the gunfire and the robot's last collapse, they come running.

There are three. One of them has a missile launcher primed and ready to go.

From:

fullofmercy

"Well, that's a relief. I'd hate to think any other worlds had these things crawling around on them."

He really, truly, hates robots.

Of course, he's not a huge fan of their backup, either, and he eyes the missile launcher with trepidation, before flipping the Punisher on his shoulder so the shortest arm points forward.

"They say to fight fire with fire, don't they?"

Squinting, he sights. Squeezes the trigger.

The rocket launched screams a white-hot trail of smoke through the air, and explodes in a confusion of dirt and debris under the mutants' feet.

From:

luvs_yogurt

"Shit... shit... shit..." Michael swears quietly, hitting the ground to make a smaller target as he wishes for the second time he'd gone for the assault rifle instead of the pistol as he aims at the one holding the rocket launcher in quick succession; letting out a frustrated cry with the impact of the missile that fires out of the weapon.

Damn if that preacher isn't full of dirty tricks.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Oh. Oh, man. Oh, there is going to be so much shrapnel in a minute.

And a whole lot of mutant bleeding; they might be green-skinned, but what's inside is as red as any human's.

From:

fullofmercy

"Duck," Wolfwood advises, covering under the Punisher as shrapnel rains down, peering to see if any other mutants have joined the party.

"These robots -- do you think they have any idea what they're protecting? Are they just obeying archaic commands, or are they just murder machine out to get anything that moves?"

From:

luvs_yogurt

Michael's already flattening himself against the ground to avoid the spread, but no less feels the sting of something at his back just to the left of his armor plating - whatever it is tears through his shirt penetrates the skin but he's too busy worrying about everything else to pay it much heed.

"I'd say a little bit of B, little bit of C." Michael grimaces, pulling himself up to keep firing at mean green guys running for them. As calm as one can expect, he manages to send one crumpling to the ground before turning to the other.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Thankfully, there are no new arrivals. Just the one coming gunning for Michael, frothing with rage and spewing everything it's got in its magazine. It's bleeding from several places and it's doubtful how well it can see, but these things are too stubborn to just lie down and die without a lot of convincing.

From:

fullofmercy

There's not enough time to flip the cross around, so he reaches into the right arm and pulls out one of the handguns, firing into the thing as it runs forward.

"I think you're probably right."

From:

luvs_yogurt

Michael bites back another grimace and swears under his breath when the bright pink laser shots stop coming. With a low growl, he pops out the dead cell and slaps in a new one - more than a little relieved when the last one collapses in a gushing, moaning heap before he can even get a shot off.

"Full perimeter scan - I wanna make sure we're alone again after that."

He picks up his rifle from where he'd set it to rest and lifts the scope to see as far as he can.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Off in the distance, there's one more lone Securitron making its way along a path worn through the rubble by two hundred years of robot feet.

That's... about it, really.

From:

fullofmercy

Wolfwood eyes it as he slips the handgun back into its slot in the crossarm -- not that it's making any sudden movements, or anything, but you just can't trust robots.

"Those brains are really sort of creepy," he says, lifting the Punisher to his shoulder and sighting with the machine gun. "Who'd want to put a brain in a robot? Aren't they bad enough already?"

From:

luvs_yogurt

Michael considers it for a long moment and the first thought that comes to mind is a mad scientist - but really, as far as robots go they don't seem hell bent on destruction of Earth... just really intense security.

As he keeps the robot in his sights, the mechanical menace lumbering apparently aimlessly having not yet registered their presence as a threat he assumes, he answers; "Someone who thinks they're doing the right thing. Bio-engineering... it's still mostly theoretical in my world but it has been approached - the concept of giving robots an organic element."

Creepy, but when you think about it - it makes a whole lot of sense. The human brain is an intense network of neuroelectric connections, it wouldn't take too much research to make it viable for actual use.

"I can probably drop this one before it gets close enough to hit us."

From:

fullofmercy

"It's the sort of thing that makes my blood run cold."

A brain, thinking, feeling, in a robot body. What kind of madness would that be? What sort of twisted mind would consider that to be a good idea?

Knives would find it ironic. He'd probably love it.

"Oh, by all means." He waves an idle hand, brushing dust off his jacket with the other. "I much prefer getting it before it gets us."

From:

luvs_yogurt

Michael nods and turns into his stance, letting out an audible hiss as he braces the weapon and takes several shots in quick succession - each bullet piercing through the thinner metal plate that makes it's sort-of face with a loud 'plink' until it drops in a small spray of electric sparks.

"Well, that was anticlimactic after the missile launcher and all that," he deadpans. "Lets do a walk around for any stragglers or sensors and then head inside and see if we can't catch up to them."

From:

fullofmercy

He pats the warm metal of the cross, smiling. "But effective," he assures, way more casually than anyone who's just blown up a handful of mutants really has the right to be.

Perhaps this is why Vash considers him to be heartless, but that's a question for another time.

Either way, he heads, along with Michael, back to their patrol around the complex, Punisher on his shoulder and his whole body feeling twitchy for a smoke.

From:

luvs_yogurt

As Michael takes a quick pace around the building, the dark stain on his back slowly spreads from the jagged rip in his shirt outward, the fabric sticking to his skin. He's pushing away the pain, focusing on the mission at hand. He can hurt later.

"West side clear." He mutters, more out of habit than anything - obviously Wolfwood can see the West side is clear and it's not like they've got a way to communicate with the inside.

"Exterior perimeter secure. What do you say we get in there and make sure they're still breathing?"

From:

fullofmercy

Wolfwood's a little behind, frowns behind his sunglasses.

"Everything okay, there?"

It's too much to ask that they escape unscathed; he knows that, accepts it. Not everyone is as talented as Vash, and even that meathead gets hit more often than not.

Still, the stiff way Michael moves is unsettling.

From:

luvs_yogurt

"Fine," he replies with a slight bite to his voice, already making his way down the hill and toward the open door.

Small and contained they might be, it doesn't take a trained ear to hear the explosions and sounds of the other team fighting well up ahead.

Edited Date: 2012-06-09 03:07 am (UTC)