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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 17, 2014 20:42:56 GMT -8
By now, the news of Devlins arrest have reached the company headquarters. A new plan was set in motion from the previous one. As Nafor arrived at the norhtern parking lot, two security containment teams were sent out from the southern one. One to the apartment of Devlin, and one for Nafors. They were cleaning crews, set on removing valuables, weapons and erasing all traces of 14, Bateman and even Lyons and Nafor. Finally, to set two big nice firebombs.-14- "Yes, that is the problem Ms Nafor. The Local authorothies have arrested mr Lyons. President Bateman wishes to debrief you personally. Then, we will see what we can do to free your boss. Come, he is not a patient man." They crossed the main entrance and entered an elovator after 14 nodded to the receptionist. In the elovator the slave tried to ease Nafors mind.-14- "I am Fourteen by the way. Mr Batemans assistant. Just take it easy, answer his questions truthfully, be respectful and this will go over quick. Mr Bateman cares a lot for his employees, so he will do what he can as the CEO for SoroSuub to free your commander." They stepped out of the elovator strait into the penthouse office. Large, well decorated with art and hunting throphies, expensive carpets, a large mini-bar, huge screen TV on one wall showing economical information and in the middle, a giant of Desks. Behind it, A thin, tall, elderly man with a warm smile and too long crossed fingers. Somehow his fingers felt freakishly long.-Bateman- "Please, take a seat Ms Nafor. I am Patrick Bateman. Now, lets get to the chase, why on earth would the local police arrest mr Lyons?" Friendly voice, fatherly tone, like a guardian from the heavens.
"Luck has nothing to do with it, Lyons. I know what kind of man you are. I know exactly how far you're willing to go." He pulled a death stick out of a jacket pocket and lit up. "A cold-blooded killer wouldn't have thought twice about putting three holes in Mr Shenlo, they'd have been after his sisters without a single heartbeat of hesitation. Not you though. You took your time. Let them gain a lead on you. Why?" A pause as he inhaled deeply and pushed off the wall, moving to stand in front of the bars facing Devlin. "My guess is you either love the killing, love the surge of adrenaline and power when you take another life, holding their very existence in your hands and then crushing it without mercy..." No physiological response. Heartbeat steady, heat dispersion normal. That wasn't it, as he'd suspected. "...or you regretted what you had to do to him and wanted to pay respects, make some kind of amends." In Monroe's experience, criminals weren't that complicated. They were driven by the same things that inspired ordinary folk, but life had driven them to the extremes of those emotions and reasons. In the criminals mind, everything they did was always justified, in some way or another. "Either way, you completely missed the point of this whole ordeal. I'm not going to lock you up, Lyons. I'm going to make you famous." At that moment, a sergeant poked their head into the room and motioned for Monroe to join him outside. "Excuse me." Monroe turned and followed the sergeant out, giving Devlin some time to think about what he'd said."What are you doing, Monroe? What do you mean famous?! Don't you walk away! We're not done here!" It was too late. Monroe was gone, probably to finish the paperwork of this arrest, while Devlin was left to stew in his own juices. Devlin unbuttoned the top two buttons of his suit to let air flow through, to get more comfortable, and paced his cell for several minutes before lifting his right arm, his cybernetic arm, and punching the wall of the cell. The sound it made was loud, and echoed even in the small holding area. He rubbed his cybernetic hand, having broken off some of the synthflesh, and looked at the dent he had made in the wall.What did he mean by famous? Devlin's cool exterior returned immediately as he tried to understand what Monroe had said. |
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Post by Mirian Santiro on Jun 18, 2014 1:15:15 GMT -8
He let her slip up with his rank slide, as he was wearing plain clothes after all, and dissected her introduction just as quickly as she was giving it. She used a very peculiar choice of words, specifically the "affiliated with corsec", which meant a civilian with special skills and not a full officer. The "as a lieutenant" was interesting as well, since most civilians would have simply been deputized for the duration of their services and then dismissed, not given an official rank. That probably meant government operative. She was too young to be any kind of a normal specialist, Corsec wouldn't go to anyone who wasn't a leader in their field, and becoming that learned required years of training this girl clearly didn't have. When she brought up being a field medic, that all but sealed the deal. No civilian would have been given a law enforcement rank just for examining bodies and treating the wounded, not unless there was military service involved, and again, she looked too young. That and her body language was that of a total civilian, none of the telltale quirks of military training showing up in the way she moved or acted. He turned to the desk sergeant. "Run her credentials through the database, just to keep everything on the level." The sergeant nodded and began inputting the information she'd given into the terminal in front of him. Monroe turned back to face Mirian and pulled the death stick from between his lips before speaking."Now, if it's not too bold of me to ask, what exactly does a Jedi want with our dear Mr. Lyons?"
. o O (How did he frelling know?!?)
Figured, she never was good with disguises or acting. That, and maybe her Corellian outfit was more Jedi than CorSec, and there was probably the simple fact that Simon Monroe may have had his share of dealings with Jedi, and Mirian, for all intents and purposes, carried the poise of a Jedi, even in the ensuing years away from such influences. Heck, didn't she maintain a code of honor and often reject more lucrative jobs though they paid better, because they were involving morally questionable folk or products?
. o O (And maybe the lightsaber scars are a dead giveaway too.)
Sighing, Mirian looked upwards and then lowered her blue eyes on Simon, looking a little more shaken now."Am I that obvious?" She whispered so softly, other than Simon, it would take a being with extremely sensitive hearing to pick it up further away.She didn't want to lie to Simon, but she didn't know how to tell him without sounding like a complete lunatic. Plus, one person's gut feeling wouldn't stand up in a court case. She felt somehow like she was letting Devlin down."Look, I don't know if you've worked with...uhmm...Jedi, very often...but..." she kept her voice soft and low, and her expression seemed unhappy, though not irate or aggressive at all, "There's just...I think, how might I put this? A chance? It's just, I don't think Devlin's all that bad. And..and..." Mirian frowned as she studied her right hand, which started trembling visibly, stopping it after only a while, "...and it's not that I'm emotionally attached to him. If anything, he's kind of my means to making ends meet." Now that might be a lie. Not necessarily, but might be. |
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Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232 
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
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Post by Atia on Jun 18, 2014 6:41:19 GMT -8
Nafor once again moved her hand away from her blaster as she followed Fourteen. When the Twi'lek introduced herself as a number, Nafor was confused. Numbers were disposable. Did SoroSuub consider all its employees that way, or was she some kind of special agent. Maybe both.Nafor continued to follow Fourteen until finally they met him, the tall old man himelf. Bateman suggested she take a seat, and she did so. Technically he was her boss, and she'd rather not find out how disposable she was. She coughed a bit to clear her throat before she spoke. Why was she so nervous."V-Sec has been trying to pin crimes on Devlin since we began our operations here. 'Enforcing' the way that we were told to is not exactly legal. Not that we mind, it comes with the job. The credit are worth it. Unfortunately most of V-Sec is still not on our payroll. Still, you'd have to go there and see what he's in for. I have heard anything from him in...."Suddenly connections were made in the Nautolan's head, and she frowned."If the Commander was arrested, who left that message on my comm? It wasn't even an hour ago. Do you have voice samples on each of us to synthesize without us knowing?"Meanwhile, back in a jail cell, all the while still looking devilishly snappy in his military uniform.... -Bateman- "That is... unsettling. And highly illegal. Let me check the files." He opened a drawer as he spoke.-Bateman- "I dislike what this sounds like, because the basis for my company is trust, and this sounds like acts of deception." He tried to settle her mind, ease her down. Instead of taking out files, he pulled one of Devlins guns, one with a stun setting and started blasting her as soon as the gun became visible and had a line of fire. He would blast her untill she didnt move. The Twilek sideing Nafor would act quicky if she went for her guns, kick or grab them out of her hand, not caring if she got in the line of fire. The Objective was to take Nafor alive and unconscious, and for the slave, it was the only thing that mattered at that very moment.
The worst thing? As the President of SoroSuub corporation started blasting off at Nafor, his face changed. Not its geographical features, but its colours. The skin turned pale, as if smeared with thick white paint. A large red grin appeared where there was none, with the same devilish smeared way, as if it was blood covering half his face. A Demonic clown, enjoying his ploy of blasting the nautolan to unconscious oblivion.
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Post by Simon Monroe on Jun 18, 2014 7:18:46 GMT -8
"Not obvious, but you left enough hints to make the connections. I'm good with connections." He leaned heavily on the desk next to him, speaking quietly as his eye caught the arrival of the blue-skinned Omwati, who leaned on the counter a few meters down from where they stood, apparently trying to mind his own business. To a less skilled observer, the darting eyes would have seemed unfocused and somewhat bored, but to Simon they reminded him of the way a Lorrdian looked at a being it was trying to read. Completely inconspicuous if you didn't know the signs, but taking in every last detail of the target and their movements. His glance at the other man lasted less than a single word, but he knew he would have seen it. If he was what Monroe thought he was, at least.
His attention turned back to the jedi in front of him, and he let out a heavy breath. If she wanted to grumble about a cop having detective skills, that was her prerogative. What wasn't her prerogative was coming in here to try and get Devlin off the hook with those big doe eyes.
"But let me get this straight. You want me to just go ahead and drop a murder charge, with evidence to back it up, because you've got a good feeling about the guy? And you've known him for how long?" Truth be told, there had been a time in his past when he would have preferred to just draw his gun and shoot the jedi down where she stood. People change, though, and while he wasn't going to kill her on sight, he still didn't like what she represented and he'd be kriffed if he was going to just stand by and let one of her kind take over his job.
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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 18, 2014 8:06:25 GMT -8
Bateman raised an eyebrow concerned.-Bateman- "That is... unsettling. And highly illegal. Let me check the files." He opened a drawer as he spoke.-Bateman- "I dislike what this sounds like, because the basis for my company is trust, and this sounds like acts of deception." He tried to settle her mind, ease her down. Instead of taking out files, he pulled one of Devlins guns, one with a stun setting and started blasting her as soon as the gun became visible and had a line of fire. He would blast her untill she didnt move. The Twilek sideing Nafor would act quicky if she went for her guns, kick or grab them out of her hand, not caring if she got in the line of fire. The Objective was to take Nafor alive and unconscious, and for the slave, it was the only thing that mattered at that very moment.
The worst thing? As the President of SoroSuub corporation started blasting off at Nafor, his face changed. Not its geographical features, but its colours. The skin turned pale, as if smeared with thick white paint. A large red grin appeared where there was none, with the same devilish smeared way, as if it was blood covering half his face. A Demonic clown, enjoying his ploy of blasting the nautolan to unconscious oblivion.
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Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
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Post by Atia on Jun 18, 2014 8:31:29 GMT -8
She gave a good fight, but the scene was pre-set with minimal chance of her escape. The Twilek got a good punch to her face, but she have had far worse when she was trained. Finally, the woman was down and out. Bateman stopped firing, and his face turned back to that kind old gentlemans face that most media knew. He was again just President Patrick Bateman. He put down the gun, and pressed the button for the intercom.
-Bateman-
"You can send in the cleaners. Initiate Phase two."
Phase two was transporting the Nautolan to a pre-made speeder. THe speeders special properties were the fact that it had tinted windows, a roof, and two infantry sized beam canons installed inside pointing forward. The Nautolan herself was undressed, then she got her own gear on retrieved from her home. Her own armour, her own sidearm. Additionally, she was given a personal shield belt, and a very special collar. For one, once put on, you could only safely remove it with a special key. Of course, you could try to slice it, or deactivate it with technology, but that would always have the risk of it going..... pop. It had just enough explosives inside for the nautolans head to fly a couple feet away from her body if needed. Three kinds of detonators, one electronic, one mechanical, and one chemical. This way the mechanism withstood ionisation, freezing and most other common methods of disarming.
Secondly, it could shock the wearer, just enough to achieve incredible pain and disconfort.
Thirdly, and most importantly, it had a direct comm connection, rerouted through several comm towers so it would be hard to trace. This way her location would always be known to Bateman and his henchmen, and the wearer could be contacted at any time the comms were active.
The Company worked quickly, and efficiently, putting the girl inside the speeder with the beam cannons and then driving it out towards the police precinct, keeping her unconscious for the time being.
Bateman was sitting in his office watching the secured GPS footage of 14 driving the assault car, waiting for her report. In the back seat were the unconscious nautolan, and that big nasty gun that Bateman found in Lyons apartment. He also saw the getaway car being driven by one of the security employees, who parked the speeder not far from the police station. Lyons and Nafors escape vehicle, if all goes well.
Soon, very soon, phase 3 will set in...
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Post by Mirian Santiro on Jun 20, 2014 0:14:11 GMT -8
"Not obvious, but you left enough hints to make the connections. I'm good with connections." He leaned heavily on the desk next to him, speaking quietly as his eye caught the arrival of the blue-skinned Omwati, who leaned on the counter a few meters down from where they stood, apparently trying to mind his own business. To a less skilled observer, the darting eyes would have seemed unfocused and somewhat bored, but to Simon they reminded him of the way a Lorrdian looked at a being it was trying to read. Completely inconspicuous if you didn't know the signs, but taking in every last detail of the target and their movements. His glance at the other man lasted less than a single word, but he knew he would have seen it. If he was what Monroe thought he was, at least.
His attention turned back to the jedi in front of him, and he let out a heavy breath. If she wanted to grumble about a cop having detective skills, that was her prerogative. What wasn't her prerogative was coming in here to try and get Devlin off the hook with those big doe eyes."But let me get this straight. You want me to just go ahead and drop a murder charge, with evidence to back it up, because you've got a good feeling about the guy? And you've known him for how long?" Truth be told, there had been a time in his past when he would have preferred to just draw his gun and shoot the jedi down where she stood. People change, though, and while he wasn't going to kill her on sight, he still didn't like what she represented and he'd be kriffed if he was going to just stand by and let one of her kind take over his job."No! Nononononono!" Mirian's eyes were as wide as saucer plates with clear panic in them and she shot out her denials at high speed with both hands raised as a means of placating and a gesture of surrender. "I didn't mean it that way at all. Really." At this point, Mirian didn't need the Force to tell her that Simon was not a fan of her, or rather, the Order that she once represented. She was half tempted to tell him that she wasn't a Jedi anymore, but right now, that connection was the only thing that she believed was the reason why he was giving her the time of day at all. She had the feeling that being a legal transporter of goods and people wasn't going to get her very far. And plus, if she told him she wasn't a Jedi anymore, he might assume she was a Dark Jedi, or worse. Because Jedi generally stay committed to the Order for their entire life, someone who'd just walked away from the Order was rare, and moreso someone who was to be given rank of Master.
She thought fast. Simon had a tolerance that was thinner and more frail than a Ghostling's durability for her presence.She swallowed, and lowered her hands, then gestured to Simon, "Look, back at Krischlev's, you told me to be more choosy about my company. Well, I just want to know more about Mr. Lyons. See, he was hiring me to transport goods for his company, and also to make deliveries for some personal purchases. All legal stuff, but I was getting the impression that there was more he wasn't telling me. And then you came over to arrest him on a murder charge. I get the feeling when I saw you, you've been wanting to put Mr. Lyons away for a long time. So, naturally, I figured you'd be the best person to ask about the man, because you'd know him better than perhaps even his own employers." Mirian's right eye twitched, the lid blinking rapidly three times so fast, it looked more like flutering. She planted her hands heavily on her hips as she looked down, "I've been wrong about people a lot of times. But...are you really certain that Devlin's a murderer?" |
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Post by Simon Monroe on Jun 20, 2014 7:23:23 GMT -8
"Come with me." Monroe pushed off the counter and ushered Mirian through the locked gate and into the precinct itself, then led her to a terminal that was out of sight and earshot of the entryway. He didn't much like the looks of that Omwati hanging around, and he preferred to keep his business his own business. He sat heavily at the chair in front of the terminal and used it to log onto his personal one back in his own office in the government complex. He did a lot of his work this way, logging in from various precincts around Rimma just so he wouldn't have to go back to his office. Pulling up a list of files, each and every one encrypted until he input the code necessary to read them (didn't want Sykes snooping, now did he?), he turned the monitor so Mirian could see and set the list to auto-scroll. Due to the encryption, all she'd be able to see was the sheer number of files being scrolled through.
"This is an encrypted list of the cases we suspect Mr Lyons to be involved in, at least half of which have soft evidence connecting him to the scene." He moved to put the death stick back in his mouth, then realized it had burned itself out already and dropped it in the nearest disposal. "I don't have enough evidence to hold him this time either, but that's not why I brought him in. This planet is run by the corporations he works for, and they own my boss. It doesn't matter how much evidence I have or how solid the case is, a man like Devlin Lyons won't go down until his boss wants him out of the picture. The only way to get to the likes of them is through the people. Make them realize what kind of government they've allowed to take over their planet." He leaned back in the chair and tented his fingers in front of his chin. "So you shouldn't worry too much about Devlin. He'll be out of here before the sun sets."
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Post by Mirian Santiro on Jun 21, 2014 4:34:24 GMT -8
. o O (Oh my gosh! How could I have been so wrong?!?)
Mirian had followed after Simon, though she felt something prickle along the back of her neck and she'd cast a glance at the omwati nearby. At first, Mirian thought she'd been letting the Force work through her again, but she made every effort to suppress her talent and abilities. The last thing she wanted was a disaster inside a police precinct. Simon showed her just the files of the cases related to Devlin. Files, plural. Even after the murder charge, she was kind of hoping it was just a one-off thing. But the sheer number being shown to her told her a different story about the man named Devlin Lyons. And once again, Mirian was very hurt to have been so wrong. Maybe that "good" feeling she had was just herself. It couldn't be the Force.
Once again, the Force was fooling around with her. And she had had enough of it.
The look of disappointment and hurt was so obvious on her face, she might as well had been shouting it out from the loudspeakers. Simon would be able to see her shock, horror and disappointment give way to sadness. She cast a glance at the man, and then, without another word, turned and left. She darted past the reception area and got into her speeder. She needed to think. She just sat there, and thought.
Her problem was she was too...reactive? That was probably it. She always thought the best of people, but once it was clear there were skeletons in someone's closet, she always let the hurt guide her actions, which was usually to run and hide away, and overthink the situation. She pressed a palm to one side of her head, pushing her hair back and letting the pressure of her hand distract her for a moment while she closed her eyes. She didn't start the vehicle, but just stayed in there, thinking.
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Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
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Post by Atia on Jun 25, 2014 1:46:46 GMT -8
A couple cars down the line a Twilek got out of a speeder with tinted windows. She wore a light jogging outfit, with the Twilek-esk tiara that was mixed with a classic human hat with a shade. Like a baseballcap, if you will. She kept her head levelled so the street cameras wouldnt get her face, and walked off carrying a sports bag towards the opposite building from the police station. In addition she also wore a very expensive looking ornate belt. The belt was a disguised stealth field generator with sound distortion mod. THe sports bag held a high energy sniper rifle in pieces, and a lockpicking tool.
She walked inside the building. There, she flashed an ID to the receptionist, who let her in. To the receptionist, she was a member of the 24/7 open gym a couple levels up. The ID was fake, with a face that resembled hers just enough to fool an office building clerk, and not fully representative of 14 herself. SHe got up about 15 levels so she would have a clear sight on the parking lot, and the yard between the police station wall and station itself. 14 was also chewing on a chewing gum, which she used to disable the only camera that was looking onto the office she needed (by putting it on the cameras lens from under). She got to a door, unlocked it with the lockpick, and got in. First off she found a window she could open that looked down on the police precinct, and secondly, she pulled a desk to it so she could lay up in a snipers position.
Putting the gun together went fast. SHe had been trained with many guns including this one home in the Crucible. Drilled drilled and drilled until she could dissemble and assemble it at a required time to move on to the next gun, every failure punished with intense pain. When done, she laid up, made sure her surroundings were dark, and activated her comm.
-14-
"14 in position."
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-14-
14 in position.
Bateman recieved the message, and sat there in front of his computer dangling his index finger over one button, then the other. The first to his left would send the code for mission abort to 14 and at the same time call the Police Chief, so he could have mr Lyons released. The second one did something radical.
On his computer, there was also a window showing a gathering of employees. These employees are the cleaners whom just returned from Lyons place and the Nautolans home. They were offered a high-end dinner with a promotion, as they now were a part of "Stab of SoroSuub Security CHiefs", a very lucrative stab to be in, one that Mr Bateman just made up. They didnt know that they were sitting by a table which had enough explosives rigged to it to make a nice hole in the building.
His finger, long as it was, dangled over the first, then the second button, its processors working possibilities and statistics. He looked over Lyons file again. He was too suspect now, the list of linked crimes too long. Just one more slip-up and Bateman was on the verge of a media disaster.
Then... why not a media disaster he can gain from?
He pressed a button.
He sat there, and waited for the second it took for the firebomb in Lyons apartment to detonate and scatter its liquid flame all over the buildings around it and the streets below turning the top of the building into a fiery inferno. He contemplated three of the five great mistakes sentients have made since they reached sentience, in the two milliseconds that followed, his high-end processors came to acceptable conclusions. Just as he had come to an answer, Nafors flat blew up in the same flammable manner, creating even one more emergency for police, firefighters and ambulances to take care off in an other side of the city.
For the next two milliseconds, Bateman did not think of anything, but the statistical chance of the metal in his desk and under his floor was enough to save him from the next blast.
The "Stab of SoroSuub Security Chiefs" found their horrid and smouldering end as an other bomb exploded, this time in the SoroSuub Headquarters, killing 13 people, making a huge hole in the building and injuring many more, including even its regional President, Patrick Bateman.
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Post by Simon Monroe on Jun 26, 2014 18:36:47 GMT -8
Monroe sighed and leaned back as he watched the young woman leave. Contrary to what she probably believed at that moment, he didn't actually like giving people bad news, but he liked it even less when they got hurt by something he could have averted. Which made what happened next all the more ironic.
He turned back to his display as she disappeared from sight and closed out the link to his personal system, locking the terminal back to its login screen. Sometimes you had to hurt a little to avoid a lot more hurt later on. Hopefully she'd learn that and not hate him for wha...
Whump!
"What the hell?" The sound hit him first, a dull thud that still managed to be loud enough to drown out the chatter in the room. Next came the tremors. The entire building vibrated as the shockwave passed through it, slower than the one in the air yet it was felt even more keenly. Monroe spun in his chair and logged back in with the rapid clicking of metal on plastic, pulling up the live feeds from around the city. A second tremor hit, this one barely felt, and he pulled up the data feed from the city's seismic sensors. Always a good thing to have when your livelihood depended on putting holes in the ground beneath you. He had the feed up when a third shockwave lit up the screen, causing the building to vibrate again, though not as keenly as the first time.
He watched the screen with bated breath, waiting for a fourth tremor that never came. Seconds passed and finally he relaxed and began digging deeper into the data provided by the sensors. The tremors weren't subterranean in origin, so it wasn't a mining op gone bad, though he'd already suspected as much. The first one had come from the direction of Devlin's apartment, which only confused the matter more. Three bombings all within seconds of each other, after months of no terrorist activity, and only hours after Devlin gets arrested and brought in on a murder charge. Monroe wasn't the kind of man to discount the possibility of coincidence, but this was really pushing it.
The squad room just down the hall suddenly became a flurry of activity as support teams geared up and began to mobilize. The main response would be carried out by the precincts in which the explosions occurred, but backup specialists were gearing up to go on standby until they knew this was all over. They wouldn't move out just yet, as there was still a possibility of more attacks within their own precinct, but they had to be ready to go if their help was required. They knew their jobs and would handle whatever developments appeared outside the precinct, so Monroe was content to sit and wait this out for now. Anything he did would just be getting in the way.
Besides, he wanted to see who would be coming for Devlin, so he got up from his chair and headed back into the hallway that lead to holding, which was strategically located near the center of the building. Anyone trying to get in or out would have to make it through one of three fortified locations. The squad room, the main entrance and lobby, or the back entrance for in-processing. His bet was on either the lobby or processing, since the squad room was teeming with badges at the moment.
Sitting himself down inside the transparisteel guardpost, he pulled his revolver free and began loading it with depleted baradium rounds, slipping the standard slugs they replaced back into their slots on his gun belt. The small cubicle would protect him from any initial salvo but wouldn't even slow down the armor-piercing slugs he'd just loaded into his own weapon, unless of course whoever would be charging in here had thought to plan for this and brought armor piercing ammo of their own. He doubted it though, most people didn't like the drawback of such limited ammunition.
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Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
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Post by Atia on Jun 27, 2014 15:41:27 GMT -8
Killing and major destruction is what the Banshees are thought. To create chaos efficiently. Some take it as a job, just an other thing one has to do to get the perk of being a banshee and all that came with it. But not all came from dark pasts of bad masters. Some were even free before they entered the crucible. Many of these had to be ... specially trained. Some come out with their minds still intact, but some have to be broken down completely. These are usually more droid like then their other counterparts. Doing what they are told because, well, there arent many other options.
Some get a taste for it. Carnage and destruction.
14 reached down into the sports bag and pulled the two things she needed the most for this operation. The deotnator for the rigged beam cannons, and the special made comm unit linked to Nafors collar.
As the tremors came, she set up her sniper stance and watched the building. Policemen running like ants. She counted a good number of specialised units leave, making their chances of success a lot more probable. So, it was time. She grabbed the comm. It was a small thing with two buttons. one blue, one red. She pressed the blue one.
As Nafor sat strapped in the back seat of the speeder, with a sinister collar on her neck, her own combat gear added with the shield generator, and that beast of a gun, intense electric surge went through her body sent from said collar.
-14-
Wake up Nafor. Wake up. Dont freak out, be calm. That thing on your neck is an explosive divice. Do as I say and you will be free of it. Do you understand?
The sound came from the collar, the cold toneless voice of a trained killer.
While speaking, 14 started checking the yard for targets, sneak-peaks inside windows.
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The seemingly old and fail man sat up in what is now the ruins of his office. He had a splinter of wood sticking out of his forehead, several burns on limbs and left shoulder, but other then that, he was fine. All diagnostics were green and sistems were again a-go. There was no humanity to his moves, no sign of pain from his wounds or . Half his desk was laying over his legs, a very problematic predicament, since it also was on fire. THe desk was heavy, a human being of Batemans apparent age would never be able to lift it. Prooving this wrong, he shoved the heavy piece of wood aside with one hand and stood up. The inferno was slowly consuming his office around him, and it suited the HRD-s purpouse. It walked out, through the flames.
As he walked, the bad left knee of his profile old man joint pains became visible in his steps. His shoulders sunk, his back curved slightly. His hands started to shake, and his eyes became damp, shocked starring.
He stumbled through a door and was met with three heroes, saving the local President of SoroSuub from this horrible terrorist attack. Lucky they found him, he could easily have died in the smoke and heat! An old man like Patrick Bateman?
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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 28, 2014 8:18:22 GMT -8
Nafor jerked awake as the electrical shock went through her body. She screamed in rage and began to reach for the collar when someone began speaking from a small speaker in it. She crossed her arms in a huff and nodded her head, mostly for her own benefit, as she was sure that they could not see her nodd her head.
"What do you bastards want from me?"
Nafor sat there, waiting for a response, unsure exactly where she was.
Meanwhile, in a jail cell.....
Devlin's sixth sense jumped when the explosions went off. He grabbed at the bars of his cell and shook them.
"Hey! What's going on ou there!?"
No one answered him, which made him angry enough to hit the bars with his cybernetic hand, making a strange thunk noise. Just because he was a criminal did not mean he did not have a right to know what was going on in his own town.
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Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
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Post by Atia on Jun 28, 2014 12:23:00 GMT -8
-14-
It is very simple. Your boss, Mr Lyons is in jail in the police building in front of you. Get him out. Take that gun, it will help. When you have him, get him to the speeder behind you. You also have a personal shield generator belt. It may give you cancer, but it will protect you from blaster bolts.
14 reached into her pocket and took out a stress relief product. Tetra-Atom chewing gum. She took a good look at the yard again, and then took the detonator for the Beam Cannons. It had three buttons, neatly marked 1, 2 and finally, and not very shockingly 3.
-14-
Get ready. Good luck.
She pressed the first button. The windshield of the speeder blew off, splintering into thousand little cubical pieces outward. The line of fire was now clear for the cannons. SHe pressed the second button, and it sent a devastating energy bolt at the outer wall of the Police station. As it detonated, 14 pressed the last button, hopefully sending the next bolt strait through a hole in the wall and opening a new entry into the building.
14 threw aside the detonator and took up fireing position, scouting for a chance to see what a blaster bolt does to actual heads, not just dummies.
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Post by Simon Monroe on Jun 28, 2014 16:58:40 GMT -8
A fourth explosion rocked the precinct followed immediately by a fifth, these two very definitely in the proximity of the building itself, and Monroe smiled grimly. Sometimes it really sucked being right. He finished loading the AP slugs into his pistol and readied it for action, then folded his arms across his chest to conceal it, propped his legs up on the cubicle's desk, and leaned his head toward his chest, closing his eyes to present the appearance of a sleeping guard. Sure, it was unlikely anyone would actually believe a guard would still be sleeping through the blaring alarms and explosive aftershocks, but it might give the assailant just enough pause to hand him an edge. With his ocular implants switched to EM, the fact that his eyes were closed wouldn't really matter much either.
Back in the squad room, the SWAT teams that had yet to mobilize suddenly went on high alert at the sound and feel of the two explosions, coming from the south side of the building. Someone was trying to breach. Two six-man teams, both fully geared up with blast vests and helmets, flash-bang and stun grenades, E-11 rifles, and S-5 pistol sidearms, began to mobilize toward the breach, each taking a different route through the building and clearing corners as they went with all the speed and efficiency one would expect from elite law enforcement officers. It didn't take them long to near the site of the breach, and the rubble from the blast could be seen littering the hallway even before they cleared the last corner. Team one reached the breach site first, coming from a hallway to the east (from the front of the building) and called in their readiness. Knowing that team two to the west (coming from the back of the building) then the officer on point switched his E-11 from his normal right handed grip to a left handed one and leaned out to check the corner, presenting as small a silhouette as possible when he did so, unsure of what he would find...
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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 28, 2014 20:32:10 GMT -8
Nafor blinked her eyes several times as she picked up the LS-150. She could barely lift the thing, let alone aim it correctly. How did they expect her to get Devlin out? The least they could have done was give her a real gun. Nafor jerked her head to the side as the windshield to the speeder blew up, and she figured that was her cue. Checking the shield generator belt, and then ensuring the LS-150 was loaded, she hefted it and jumped out.
Nafor cursed as the LS-150 weighed her down considerably. She had seen Devlin use it only once, and the way it went through ammo, she would not be able to get caught in a firefight. The Nautolan weighed her options, and decided she would die either way, she might as well take someone with her. She began firing bursts at the breach in the V-Sec headquarters wall and advanced slowly.
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Post by Mirian Santiro on Jun 28, 2014 20:51:09 GMT -8
"Sithspit!" Mirian was just about to turn on the ignition in her speeder when the first explosions happened. Her first thought was that she had something to do with it. But the distance from the event and where she was didn't quite coincide, until the next explosions happened much nearer. Okay, that, I might have something to do with... she thought.
Exiting her speeder, she was almost run over by panicked fleeing individuals. People were scattering everywhere, long after the explosions had stopped. Mirian had a feeling the V-Sec building was the target of all this. She wasn't sure how she knew, but it was a gut feeling, and her gut, while seldom wrong, would also undoubtedly get her into a world of trouble. Though she had her blaster on her hip, she didn't draw it, and she kept her lightsaber hidden for the time being. Her backups were also hidden in her ankle and on the left side under her coat. For now she needed to make sure the immediate person she'd last seen was all right. That, and Devlin too. Sure, he may be a crook and a killer, but she still didn't want to find out he's dead.
She raced back towards the precinct, stumbling over debris and people whose feet were tripping her up, while shouting, "SIMON! Mr. MONROE?"
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Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
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Post by Atia on Jun 29, 2014 3:21:36 GMT -8
-14-
Good girl. Get behind the car. They are coming through the hole, commando police. Let them pin you down.
The tactic was easy. Faint a failed attack at the breach, pull the police out into the open, then pin THEM down with sniper fire and let Nafors nasty weapon deploy on the car and basically obliterate them. Even if they lined up behind the wall, they wouldnt have a chance against that firepower and when Nafor ran out of ammo, there would be plenty of guns laying around. So, the sniper waited with patience.
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-Bateman-
"No, no. I am ok. Take care of the real wounded, sweety."
The bleeding, burned old man said to the paramedics who stormed him. He had just exchanged a couple words with the police captain that came to his office building, and he was informed that this was an attack, not an accident. He seemed woozy from his walk, and half his face was covered in his so called blood. The paramedics ran off, exept for one who started bandaging his face even though he was walking towards the crowd of catastrophe tourists and reporters. As the cameras and microphones got aimed at him, he pushed the paramedic away.
-Bateman-
"There are more injured then I, deal with THEM!"
It was a mighty sight. The great SoroSuub Corporations President declining treatment so others could be treated, even though he was a fragile old man. Not only that, he was going to do a statement!
-Bateman-
"Today, a vicious attack shook our hearts and our minds. We still dont know how many died, but know this, SoroSuub Corporation will compensate any way we can the loss of those that died today. I know, that sentient lives can not be replaced, but on my honour, I promise you, we will do our best!
And for you, who did this...
Whoever you are, listen to me and listen to me carefully. You are a monster, a cowardly, dishonourable monster. This attack on Vandelelm and its people will not go unanswered. This attack on SoroSuub will be retaliated. Run, hide, wherever you may go, we will find you and Justice will have a field day with you!"
About 13 seconds later, this was shown in all HNN news broadcasts on Vandelhelm.
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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 29, 2014 15:41:26 GMT -8
Nafor cursed under her breath. Something about bad luck, magic numbers and being cursed. Her psychic had warned her something involving the police would happen. Nafor had thought that the old bat had meant she would be running away when SoroSuub's presence collapsed, or something else. Not being forced to assault the police headquarters.
Nafor took cover behind a parked speeder, and waited for further instructions. If she did make it out of this alive, she was going to have to have a nice long talk with Devlin about a raise.
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Post by Simon Monroe on Jul 9, 2014 15:56:34 GMT -8
Team one approached the breach cautiously once the hail of blasterfire ceased, the officer on point clearing the corner into the small storage room then backing behind the wall once more. He radioed his findings to the rest of the team, a single visible assailant ducking behind a speeder parked in the wide alley, then called for team two to change objectives and provide cover from the second floor. Any competent officer would have seen immediately that trying to rush the attackers, even if there actually was only one of them, would be a foolhardy and likely suicidal plan of attack, but gaining the height advantage to nullify the attacker's cover would allow them to engage the target with minimal risk to themselves. It would take just under a minute for team two to get into place, and the officer half-rounded the corner again to cover the rest of his team as they moved into position on both sides of the breach, the team's marksman crouching low and keeping as much of his body behind cover as possible as he took aim at the parked vehicle through his E-11's scope, just in case the attacker got sloppy and decided to show themselves. All they had to do now was wait for team two to get into position and pin the assailant, or assailants, down behind their cover so team one could move in.
When they reached the second floor, the six officers of team two took up positions at the three windows closest to the breach below. The officer in charge and the team marksman took the center window, directly above the breach and the speeder the assailant was using as cover. Once in position, they radioed their readiness and the marksman trained his rifle on the head of the assailant below, a nautolan female wielding an LS-150 heavy ACP repeater, and currently crouched behind her cover. Due to their elevated position, he had a clear shot, or he would have one once they dealt with the transparisteel in the way. To that end, the team leader took aim at the span of window just in front of the marksman's barrel, and with flawless coordination fired his rifle half an instant before the marksman pulled his own trigger, vaporizing the transparisteel and giving the second bolt a clear path to its target.
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