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RP: Cirrus Station [Episode 2] Little Problems

Dream sighed.
Code:
When it comes to this... we'll have to use some serious violence. I'm sorry, Flower, I'm going to have to ask you to do something potentially very dangerous.

The droid kept on stomping towards the Shambler, head-on.

Code:
Rest of the squad, stand to the sides of the corridor. Flatten yourselves against the walls or you'll risk bring trampled. Look, I processed Popjoy's informations on the Shambler's structure.

A small wireframe 3d image of the Shambler appeared on everyone's HUD, with its joints highlighted in a flashing purple color. A brief animation showed red arrows pushing and pulling them.

Code:
I've found, well... damnit, what do you call it? anyway, how to put the thing in a joint lock. You know, like then they grab your arm by the wrist, bend it behind your back, and suddenly you can's exert strength at all? Yeah, like that. But first we'll have to knock it down. Flower will take care of that. Tweak, when Flower does his thing, try and trip the beast again. We HAVE to bring it down, or we probably won't have another chance. Then, all together, joint lock it, and tie it down with its limbs in a position where it can't exert its full strength.

She turned around. "Sorry, Pop. We'll have to hurt him a bit. Blame it on Real." She smiled and winked at the volumetric screen.

As the charging, raging beast entered Flower's field of view, the droid accelerated, stomping heavily on his mechanic legs. Then with a loud rumbling noise, it engaged its rocket thrusters.

Those were mostly used to fly in space, without air and at zero G. It wasn't capable of controlled flight in an atmosphere and under gravity. It just kinda shot full speed ahead like a projectile, firing its rockets at maximum power and burning them out in something like ten seconds.

Flinging itself straight against the Shambler's head at ramming speed.

If energy was REALLY equal to 1/2, multiplied by the mass, multiplied by speed squared (and Dream didn't have any reason to doubt it ), then a 2 ton lump of metal traveling at a relative speed in excess of a hundred kilometers per hour applied directly to the face was their best bet to down that monster.

Code:
EAT PHYSICS!!
 
"Against the wall?" Keziah said, baffled, as she stopped in her tracks. The Shambler was closing in on them rapidly. She glanced over her shoulder, at Flower. "What are you--?"

It was the starter ignition of Flower's thrusters that finally made her body obey. She threw herself against the grimy wall, pressing against it, as the droid bursted past. She could feel the heat from the thrusters, and the exhaust, even through her suit.

She looked up just in time to see that Flower was headed towards the Shambler, fully intent on ramming it.
 
Cyril furrowed his brow. He hadn't heard any thing from Tweak, but from the way everyone was responding, it seemed...

It suddenly clicked. Montreal's wonderful new comms gear had been issued, well, broken. We was used to dealing with faulty equipment. It came part and parcel with the conditions back home. But he kinda expected things that had apparently been fresh from the factory to work, at least for a few days.

He was about to tell the squad about his conclusions when Dream ordered them against he wall. He puzzled over it for half a second, before remembering that she was the one controlling Flower. And if the one in charge of a piece of heavy equipment says move, you move. Pressing against the wall, he wondered-

The concussion of Flower's thruster going off hit him in the chest like a sledgehammer. He swore he could feel the front of his armor scorching, and he was grateful for the hearing protection provided by the helmet. His ears still rang nevertheless, though it was already fading as the droid flashed past on a column of smoke.

"tention ere'one," He said, turning to formality for the sake of clarity in relaying his earlier suspisions. "I am not, repeat not receiving Tweak's transmissions. I'm gonna be slow to respond to anything she might instruct." Telling them was the least that he could do right now. He was easily the scrawniest member of the squad. Tweak, the next shortest, had a good four inches on him, and he had nothing on Ozzy's towering stature. Frankly, he doubted that he would be of much use in restraining the damned shambler, especially with his left arm in the armory who knows how far back.
 
Ozzrik heard Tweak's and didn't mind. He figured it was better to be overly worrisome than not worrisome at all. He also heard it was coming right at him.

Shit.

It didn't take him long to also process, Dream's commands. He threw himself up against the wall just in time to see and feel Flower fly by with thrusters at full burn.

Shit again.

So Flower is going to ram the Shambler, flying at us, with Tweak on its back. If we knock it down, then we're to jump on it and lock up its joints.

Hrmm.....shit thrice.
 
James responded to Dream's orders like any good marine would, he immediately flattened against the left side of the pipe and stood as still as he possibly could. He did not want to trampled on by an oversized grub.

As he was flattening himself, Floower skidded past as fast as she could and launched herself, thrusters blazing, into the Shambler. It gave James a sort of pitiful feeling. He could never do something like that. He just didn't have the guts to sacrifice himself for another person. Much less another species.
 
The Muck Shambler was most likely far too busy stampeding to notice Flower's rocket-propelled charge, and if it did, it didn't seem to care much for the small robot.

The little tyke seemed to have hit the sweet spot on his hulking behemoth, as the immediate contact between the two yielded some mixed results. While indeed the hit was dead-center, the orb-like main body of the Shambler was apparently not as stable as it appeared; the body, using the legs jointed above it as a sort of swinging point, leaned back with the force of the blow, causing Flower to glance off and skid into the muck below as the Shambler blew past it.

However, it also had a more desirable effect; a twisting motion applied to the center body of the Shambler caused it's legs to fumble slightly. While scrambling madly to attempt to re-obtain its footing, the Shambler overcompensated and ended up slipping and capsizing harshly against the flooring at full speed. Instead of coming to a complete stop, however, the Shamblers initial velocity only changed slightly when it lost its upright position...

...the creature, its girth very wide and sliding at a still dangerous speed, was approaching the pursuing security team.

---

Purina gasped and quietly whimpered under her breath. "Oh no...they're here!"

A thundering herd of footsteps sounded behind Lucius, Dream and Serra. A number of individuals, clad in armor that appeared similar to the standard CSS, but with a number of...enhancements. Bulkier, more armored and even a tinge of artistic craftsmanship, the Cirrus Station Security emblem emblazoned onto the chestplate. They all carried the same CSS-VW that Squad 35 had, however.

While many of these CSS Elite were large, muscular frames, a small, more standard sized one pulled ahead of the pack and shouldered his rifle, stepping up to Dream and Lucius with a nod. His face, like the rest of the CSS Elite, was already covered by his helmet and visor, and when he spoke, the voice was carried out by external audio systems, slightly grainy but clearly audible.

"Squad 35, I am Captain Abeck Winnowson of the Cirrus Station Elite Security branch. Head Administrator Montreal has sent me to relieve your squad of the assignment here..." the man introduced himself boldly, but not haughtily. His faceless head lifted up, no doubt taking in the surrounding area. Popjoys startled face on the volumetric screen, the odd jumble of squad leaders before him, and the open vent grate in the corner. Abeck removed his weapon from his shoulder and held it out in front of him. "So, what is our situation?"
 
As Flower zoomed by, Ozz wasted no time pulling out and following suit as fast as he could. He didn't know what he was doing....he was just reacting. A ways in front him, he saw everything happen in slow motion. Flower struck the Shambler and veered off. The hit gave a hard enough blow to turn that thing upside down, but now instead of running...it was sliding right at the team.

In the world of bad decisions, coming out and following Flower might of been one of the worst. Now, he was faced with a dead or somewhat-injured situation.

Ozz hated not having options, but he figured he had a couple:

1. He could of turned around and run, but he would of been overtaken and crushed quickly. Death...not good.

2. He could stand still and accept death. However, there were just still too many ladies he hasn't met yet. Also unacceptable.

3. He could make another bad decision and hope it cancels out the first.

Making up his mind, he increased speed again, sprinting right at the Shambler. Wishing he had cybernetic legs, torso, or an enhance mind, Ozz judged best he could and leapt at an appropiate time towards the Shambler.

Unfortunately, he was somewhat off. While in mid-air, Ozz can see he wasn't going to clear the top of the bug. As if grasping to a ledge, Ozz slammed against roughly possibly cracking many ribs. The impact bounced him off and upwards where he slammed shoulder-first against one of the legs.

The only upside to this, the impact against the up-turned leg stopped him and he was now on the Shambler and alive. The downside he was enjoying a Shambler sled ride plowing towards the rest of the team.
 
"Shit!"

Too fast. Too big and too fucking fast. In Flower's wake, in the rising tide of sludge as the Shambler crashed and ground towards them, she saw Ozzy running towards the huge insect wall of death. Then he was gone, rolled up over the thing.

A part of her thought... figured he must be dead. It didn't look like an easy flight. But that didn't matter. It was still sliding, still coming for her and Cyril. Move! her brain shouted at her, taking on the voice of her drill sergeant. Move it! Or else do ya wanna be a fucking sludge pancake?

And she was moving, her arm coming fully online, synthmuscles tensing. "Cyril!" she shouted, trying to grab his attention. He's slow. He's slow. He might be too slow. Her mind repeated that as a litany as she charged towards Cyril; not to tackle, but to sweep up into her arms, then take a mad bolt down the rest of the pipeline to escape the crushing bug.

The only thing she didn't know was just how fast she could go dragging him along--or even carrying him, since he looked slight enough. Her arm would be more than strong enough to lift him up, armor and all, but everything after that was muddy.
 
Dream blinked, distracted, caressing with her right hand the cable that connected her head to the small console on the wall.

She had a somewhat worried face.

She knew all too well what fas going on down there. But what could she do? Making up her mind, she decided to trust her comrades and didn't even say a thing to them, in order not to distract them at a crucial moment.

She turned around to face this Abeck fellow. "Squad 35 just brought down the Shambler. Alive, as requested by doc Pop."

Technically, Montreal at first had ordered them to kill it, but then revoked the order. This left only Popjoy's order to capture it alive. So, still technically, they were still acting by Popjoy's request, she reasoned.

And it's true that the thing has been brought down. Just... it hadn't stopped yet.

"Hold on." She asked them. "Let me double check, account for all the squad members, and inform them of your arrival."

And she did, performing a quick scan of the suits' vital function monitors and the such. Was everyone alright?

[ooc: I wait until I can tell how's everyone down there.]
 
Cyril watched with a sort of bemused horror as events unfolded before him. He watched Flower collide into the vaguely spheroid bulk of the shambler, and bounce off like the bullets they had poured into it. He watched the shambler stumble, tumble and begin to skid.

He was going to watch the quick and evidently bizarre chain of reasoning that lead to Ozzy to try to leap onto the shambler, and the apparently resultant crushing. But that was rather subsumed by the fact that Keziah had literally grabbed him, and was now running the both of them down stream in front of the rolling shambler like Nepleslia James.

There wasn't time for her to put him down without the both of them being crushed, and frankly at the moment he didn't ask. While he had exadurated a little earlier, he still wasn't the fastest member of the squad, at least when bound by gravity. Besides, Keziah was a strong girl, and he wasn't what you'd call a heavyweight. He only weighted in at around sixty kilos, and a good chunk of that was in his spine and left arm. Without the arm, he couldn't weigh more then fifty five.

"Why Kaz! 'ow'd you know I always wanted ta be swept off me feet by a beau'iful woman?" He said impishly, tail twitching playfuly. But being a smart ass was only thing he was going at the moment. His eyes appeared to unfocus as he called up the map of the sewer that he had downloaded earlier. He studied it hurriedly, looking for something, anything, that could get them out of the path of the rolling shambler. And, for a pleasant change, one sprung readily to mind.

"An' Kaz, secondary line meets this'un 'round the bend on your right!" He added, tail pointing out the direction of the secondary line for added emphasis.
 
When Dream's order came through, Tweak quickly caught on to what the azure-haired 'Spacer was on to.

Tweak to Dream said:
Acknowledged. I don't think I can do much, but I'll give it my best.

Then Flower performed his kamikaze-run at the Shambler...and Tweak found herself without a seat.

Letting out a surprised squeak, she instinctively let out a burst from her CRT thrusters -- scorching small rectangular holes in the back of her uniform -- which both reoriented her upright and gave her a small enough push toward the main body mass of the Shambler that she was able to get a grasp on the thing's carapace instead of being flung to the ground and left behind.

Once her handhold was found, Tweak searched for further options...The situation was now massively different than her projections. The beast was up-side-down, rendering Dream's request to trip it unneeded. So, all that was left was to get this thing into the "joint-lock" that Dream needed. And, since it was obviously stronger than at least two of her team, Tweak decided that trying the hogtie was probably a good idea.

She leaped up and tugged on the steel cable, which was still attached to the first front leg. The tug pulled her toward the leg, and she landed on one of the inner sections of the limb. Another, sharper tug removed the line from the cuff and Tweak quickly tied her own knot into the line, then looped it around the end of the leg again, removing the previous weak point in it. Then she jumped again, landing on the tip of the leg and forcing it down against itself (like folding someone's leg until the back of the calf is against the underside of the thigh), and looped the line around it a couple of times, tightening it down as hard as she could before moving on to the rear leg on that same side. Then she found Ozz clinging to the Shambler's main body.

"OZZ! GET UP, I NEED YOU OVER ON THAT LEG," she shouted at him, not bothering to try using the radio and pointing at the rear leg opposite the one she was already at. "TRY FOLDING IT DOWN AND HOLDING IT UNTIL I GET OVER THERE!"

Then Dream's stat request came over the channel.

Tweak to Dream said:
Request fifteen seconds before replying, ma'am.
That said, she repeated the maneuver she used on the first leg, folding the second leg down and looping the line tightly around it, also bringing the first one close to it in the process.

Meanwhile, the Shambler and its passengers kept sliding...
 
It was tough running with Cyril, balance-wise. He didn't weigh much in her arm, and she had half-thrown him across her back to spread his weight out, but she hadn't ever had to run with someone in her arms. Let alone in a sewer that didn't exactly have the best footing. Her legs easily pounded against the pipe, hiding the strain building up in her back.

She would've laughed at his comment, under normal circumstances. The little yard dog being saved by the half-robotic ex-slave girl. In a way, it was pretty ironic, or silly. Then again, being covered by sewage and then crushed by a sliding bug was just embarrassing. How'd she explain that one to whatever, or whoever, waited beyond the great divide of death. Stinks to go that way, don't it?

The secondary line! She snapped her head towards it, turning gently as she sprinted across the width of the pipe, coming to the mouth of the secondary--

And she slipped. They had been going fast, and she felt gravity fade as they flew through the air. All she could see in front of her was the edge of the junction.

No time. She threw Cyril, her arm shooting out, aiming him into the secondary line. Her arms, now free, covered her face, and she tucked her head in.

Keziah crashed against the bottom of the pipe, surging through the sewage. The impact knocked the wind from her lungs, making her body tighten even more.

Her shoulder struck the junction--her meat shoulder--and she stopped violently, her head rebounding off of the edge of the secondary.
 
Tweak shouting at him woke him from his daze and pain. While, she shouted, he took her words in and assesed his injuries. His ribs were probably broken and he suffered some other assorted deep bruises. Thankfully, no injuries to the head as the helmet sustained most of the blow, but it was knocked off and lost in his less than eloquent jump on to the Shambler. Then there was his shoulder, it was severly dislocated, but he needed it working now.

As Tweak directed him to the leg, he braced himself against the trunk of a leg and braced himself for what seemed to be yet another bad decision in a long line that brought him to a tunnel of sewage riding on the belly of a bug. He bit down on his lip and shoved the entire weight of his body against the leg forcing his arm painfully back into the socket. Blood dripped from his mouth and he wiped it and the pain away on the sleeve of his CSS Suit.

With the final cobwebs cleared, he crawled to the leg Tweak indicated and tried his best to fold it down. The leg fought back, but Ozz was done with being beat up today.

He growled lowly at the leg but mostly to himself, "I've chased you. I've been chased by you...."

As he spoke, he gained ground on the flailing leg and was beginning to force it down.

"I've been hit by you. I hate bugs...... And....YOU SMELL LIKE CRAP!" he finished as he finally pinned the leg down and threw his entire body on top of the leg and waited for Tweak.
 
Cyril twisted in midair like a cat as Keziah launched him at the secondary line. It was a freefall maneuver, really. A trick to orient yourself to a rapidly approaching wall. Cyril himself had picked it up in one of the occasional fights that broke out on station, and it had proven useful on more then one other occasion.

But it was freefall maneuver. It didn't work quite as well as it was intended to in gravity. Cyril had only managed to get himself halfway turned by the time gravity introduced him to the nearest surface, and that wasn't a wall under where his feet were. It was the floor beneath him.

As he skidded along the muck and hit the wall, he reflected on his good fortune for the armor, broken radio or not. If he had just been in uniform or civvies, not only would he be covered in shit, he would have lacerated the hell out of his face rather then just simply being winded.

And as he hit the wall, he had an excellent view of Keziah hitting the edge of the junction shoulder first. Pausing for only half a second to catch his breath, he scuttled over to the downed woman. At a glance, he couldn't tell how bad the injury was, but it couldn't hurt to drag her further into the secondary line. From the yelling, it sounded like Tweak was at least doing something. But whatever it was, it didn't seem to slow the creature down.

"Woman down." He announced through the radio, looping one arm under her uninjured shoulder and hastily wrapping his tail around her torso, careful not the jostle the shoulder that hit the corner, he dragged her a meter into the secondary tunnel. Safely away from potential crushing by the sliding shambler, he scurried around to her side, leaning in close to try and see if she was still conscious behind her visor.

"You still with us Kaz?"
 
The impact had knocked her out, but only briefly. She came to as Cyril dragged her into the secondary line, tasting blood on the back of her teeth. Her head felt like it had been stuffed with packing foam, and she couldn't really feel the rest of her body.

Slowly, everything came back. She could feel everything, except her arm, which didn't feel so much numb as absent, even though it was still attached. When Cyril's helmet appeared in her field of view, it took her a while to register what she was seeing, what was being said. The words slowly, very slowly, started to make sense. "'m arm," she slurred out, trying to stay conscious. She feebly gripped at the edge of Cyril's breastplate with her cybernetic arm. "Is 'm arm there?"
 
Meanwhile, upstairs...

"They're... reorganizing." Explained Dream hesitatingly.
Flower was knocked out (probably damaged and in the middle of auto-repair), so she had very few readings on everyone. And those were also jumbled and confused. She could hear what they were saying, but that didn't help much. Quite the opposite, it perplexed her even more.

Was everyone alright?
 
Shit. Keziah was definitely dazed, maybe even concussed. That was a stupid-noble thing for her to do, tossing him ahead like that. His own shoulder would have laughed at an impact like that, though it would have been bruised as all hell from it.

And that impact worried him as much as the fact that he could see even through her helmet that she was on the bleeding edge of consciousness. She had smacked her head pretty good, but the helmet should have mitigated that. The shoulder, on the other hand... Well, that was one of the flexible joints in the armor. That may have had enough play to dislocate the shoulder.

"Don't worry Kaz, your arm's still 'ere." He said gently as he just as gently pushed her good arm down.

"Dream, Kaz is down. It looks like a disloca'ed shoulder an' maybe a concussion. 'old on, I'm trying to access 'er biometrics." He radioed to their 2IC. And as he did that he put task to his words, searching for an external readout or the command that would put her biometrics into his HUD.

"You gotta stay awake Kaz. You mi' 'ave a concussion."
 
Dream blinked.

Code:
Ah. Yes, the humerus and the scapula have separated at the glenohumeral joints. Nothing serious. She's gonna be just fine after I get my hands on her, don't worry.

Her tone of voice was alarmed, even through the audio line, despite the light injury.

Code:
The elite squad has come to take our place. Three things: one, is everyone else all right and accounted for? Two, did we down the damn thing? I lost Flower's sensors and can't quite make up exactly what's going on down there. Three, what should I do now? Should I tell them to get down there? Is the situation stable? Mission accomplished?
 
"Fuck," she whispered, letting her arm flop back into the sewage. The helmet felt tight on her skull, clamping down and giving her a headache. It throbbed through her entire body, and she focused on that to stay floating in consciousness. She bit her lip, too, for something extra. She couldn't feel anything else but these tiny pains, but they were enough.

Keziah's eyes refocused, and she looked up at Cyril, frowning. "You' all right, right?"
 
Cyril shook his head. "Don't you worry 'bout me. You're worse off then I." The biometrics finally clicked in, confirming Dream's assessment. Thankfully, no skull fracture or anything like that.

Dislocations were... well, there were worse things, but they were still dangerous. Especially ones at major joints like the shoulder. If they left the joint out of place, the ligaments could only be be damaged further.

Cyril dithered for a moment. His first aid training was only rudimentary. But it couldn't wait until they got back to a proper medic. And there was no real way to get her up the ladder and through the access hatch anyway.

"Right." He muttered to himself. He hastily pulled the empty sleeve of the undersuit out from under the suit's breastplate. Thankfully, it was clean, or at least significantly cleaner then the rest of his suit by this point.

"Right." He said louder. "'kay Kaz. We're gonna 'have to set yer shoulder. I need you to pop your visor and bite down on this." He said, holding up the empty sleeve.
 
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