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RP: Cirrus Station [Episode 2] Little Problems

Dream paled (or rather, given her usual skin color, yellowed).

A lot went through her head: no need to use such a volume of fire, the risk of a stray shot damaging something important increasing a hundredfold, this was overkill, I didn't expect that, wasn't Flower's one-second burst enough, there might be flammable gases down there and a lot of other things.

However, only one thing actually came out.

Code:
What... wait! Stop! Cease fire! That's too much!
 
The hail of gunfire thudded harshly on the creature as it crawled its way through the pipeline. The security teams weapons seemed to have little to no effect...neither shots to the spheroid body nor the legs or joints of the creature did much to stem the stampede as he fly completely past them with astounding speed, easily out pacing them.

As it passed by the T-section of the catwalk leading to the ladder grate to the armory, the protruding section of catwalk connecting the pipelines walkway to the armory was completely torn off as the Shambler pushed onward, into the darker recesses of the east-bound pipe, bellowing it's guttural, bubbling groan of a howl as it faded in an out of sight in the sparse illuminating bulbs beyond.

For the moment, things seemed

---

Above the rest of the squad, Mimi and Kess instinctively glanced towards the front of the room as a volumetric screen formed in front of Lucius, Dream and Serra.

On the screen was a very distraught-looking young woman, with thin, delicate features surrounded by elegant pink hair. While only the upper portion of her body was being shown through the volumetric communication, her laboratory uniform and Administrator pin immediately revealed her position on the station, and for those inquisitive enough to notice the name on the breast of her coat, a name; Professor P. Popjoy.

"You must not harm that creature!" The addled woman exclaimed, shaking her head from side to side in disapproval. "She is a very important specimen, and is completely harmless!"
 
Serra toke a second to look at the hole, then back to the display.

"Well," she said as she placed her data pad down, "from those sounds we just heard, your animal is still alive. If probably a bit annoyed."
 
"Next time don't lose your "important" specimens around the station!!" Dream screamed back to her.
There were very only three things that could make her really mad. Not knowing what was going on, dictatorships, and stupid inefficiency.

No, not regular inefficiency. Regular inefficiency can be fixed by fixing the system, while stupid inefficiency can only be fixed by fixing people's heads. (Or, alternatively, a one-way trip to the nearest Grinder, in the very worst cases.)

Well, fixing people was her job, after all.

Code:
Stand down, guys. The one who's responsible for this mess called. She says it's harmless.

"Look, missie, let's cut this short." Dream glared at the volumetric screen, bending slightly and putting on an angry face, hands on her hips. "Either send someone qualified to handle that creature, or tell us how we can subdue it. We've got a job to do and your pet's in the way."
 
As the Shambler scuttled off, James emptied released the magazine from his carbine a loaded another. He had wasted the whole clip on that beast without much effect, but it didn't hurt to keep the carbine full of ammo.

James stood up from his position and stared around at all the damage that the Shambler had caused. An entire section of catwalk, including that which led topside, had been ripped off the wall. Keziah was positioned a couple yards in front of him, but the rest of the team was left farther down the tunnel.

James walked over to Keziah and sat down. He wasn't really sure what to say, so he sat in silence, hoping the Shambler wouldn't be returning any time soon.
 
Cyril waded over to the squaddies near the mangled catwalk, idly flicking filth from his tail. He wondered on what Dream had said about that thing being harmless. It had certainly seemed dangerous enough, and the way it soaked up fire was worrying. But, well, it hadn't actually done anything. True, that may be because they were collectively quick on the trigger and had scared it off. But there was still the possibility of it actually being harmless, which would be an unusual oversight on Finagles' part.

Leaning against the wall of the tunnel he looked around at the collected shit-spattered marines.

"Wonderful second day, eh folks? Maybe for an encore a bunch of marauding Mishhu could show up an' blow the reactor off." He said with a grin that wasn't visible behind his visor.
 
As the Shambler passed, Tweak had a puzzle: She had to get off the catwalk or be taken for a ride on the twisting metal. And, if that thing got away, they would lose it in the station's pipe system, where it probably would cause more damage...so...

Two-for-one day on ideas!

The neko quickly timed a jump and left the catwalk, arcing onto the top of the grub, landing lightly on the main body and sliding down to get a grip on the inside section of one of the thing's back legs (which, if it could shrug off bullets, probably didn't feel her). Getting a firm hold, she was able to stay clear of the destruction while avoiding getting brushed off by the ceiling. "I'm hitching a ride on it and will either report back its position or you can track my transmissions, just hurry up and get someone to re-capture this bugger!" she called over the radio.
 
She had fired off half a clip before the Shambler had disappeared from sight. She eased her rifle off her shoulder, and sat down just as James came over, her rifle balanced on her knees. Large fragments of catwalk drifted by in the sewage. The way back to the Armory had been torn to shreds, and she regretted ever having come down. Kind of. At least she wouldn't be branded a coward or anything.

Keziah sighed, and leaned her head back against the wall. It thudded gently, skidding on grime that had clung to the wall. The only way back was to swim, and she didn't look forward to that.

When Cyril spoke, she lowered her head to him. She hadn't noticed where he had come from, but that didn't really matter so much.

"Don't tempt fate," she said. "Might just happen with all the luck we've had so far."
 
And that was that. The creature's controller told us to be careful as it rampaged its way through the bowels of the station with one his squad members on its back. By choice or not, one of his squad was still in harms way....until that was resolved the mission was still on high alert.

He reported in, "Dream, I'm not sure you heard, but Tweak hitched a ride. On our "harmless" animal. Permission to follow?"

He reloaded his weapon as he spoke, not that shooting it did any good, and prepared to move out again.

He turned to Cyril, "I should just go get my mace....I probably would do about the same about of damage.....anyway....can't we track Tweak through on our own?"
 
Popjoy appeared hurt by Serra and Dream's reactions to her request, and shook her head side to side again as she tried to find the words in her frantic state.

"T-t-there is no reason to berate me! The larval stage of the Beadicus Longlegus is very smell and delicate, and I do not know how one of my scientists misplaced it!" Purina whined. "You must find some way to calm it, or subdue it before it hurts itself!"

"PURINA!"

Another volumetric screen opened up across from Popjoys, fading into view a harrowed, infinitely angry Cassefin Montreal, huffing in raged breaths behind her spectacles and fire-red hair. "PURINA! What is that...that THING doing in the waste processing plant?! It is going to ruin the equipment in place down there...the walkways and gas absorbers are already in BROKEN PIECES! It's heading for the back end of the plant, and that connects directly to the axillary generators to the Vogel drives! If those are damaged, there is no telling how long we'll be stranded here until repairs can be done!"

"B-b-but-! I did not-! I only-! T-t-there was-!" Purina looked terrified as the enraged Head Administrator set upon her.

Cassefin turned her blazing glare towards the squad leaders of Security Squad 35. "You! Captain! Call your men and tell them to kill that thing! Stop it from ruining any more of my station before it causes irreversible damage! That is a direct order!"

"No! You mustn't!" Purina pleaded amidst the chaos. "She has done nothing wrong!"

Administrator Montreal snarled and exchanged glances between the occupants of the room. "Forget it! Your squad of baboons isn't capable of handling this anyway. I'm sending in the CSS Elites to clean this up properly. This station is more important than your little pet, Purina," Cassefin spat bitterly as she turned away from the screen, the volumetric image soon fading in after behind her.

"No!" Purina Popjoy gasped below her breath, sounding all too ready to give up. The soft-hearted Administrator turned back to Lucius, Dream and Serra and clasped her hands together. "Please, you must find some way to stop that poor creature before they kill her!" Purina pleaded to her final remaining hopes of saving the rogue Muck Shambler. "Subdue her, incapacitate her...anything! Please!"
 
"STOP WHINING!" Dream snapped. Then, she relaxed, and smiled. "We're going to do it." She confirmed.

"Not because you asked us to." She added. "Mostly because I wanna show Headmaster Real that she's wrong. About a lot of things."

She scratched the back of her head. "And, well, yeah, I suppose that thing didn't actually hurt anyone yet. But if you want to have it back alive before Real's so-called "elites" kill it, You've gotta tell me. Everything. Now. Biology, chemistry, weak points. We need to know how we can bring it down." She waved a hand in front of her. "You can use tech jargon to keep it brief, I can handle it."


Meanwhile, in virtual space...

Code:
Nice, Tweak! Ok, listen, people: the stakes in this game just became a lot higher. Cassefin Montreal said
Recorded Audio Clip said:
"Forget it! Your squad of baboons isn't capable of handling this anyway. I'm sending in the CSS Elites to clean this up properly."
Code:
So I say we bring the thing down alive and unharmed and we show Real and her kids just who are the elites here, and who the baboons.

They could HEAR her beaming.

Code:
So, get on pursuit! We'll keep on feeding you info from here, update your HUDs, and inform you on any weak points that beast might have. Until then, follow it closely but please do not engage it with any kind of hostile action. We don't want to piss it off even more now, do we?
Ah, and while you're chasing the thing give me an inventory of the weapon systems you have, we'll try and figure up something up here. Good luck, and let's show everyone what we're made of!!"

Flower joined the pursuit, scuttling around heavily. Despite its four legs, it wasn't designed for high speeds, so it lagged behind.
 
"Ah, but if you don't give 'im ideas, then 'e finds a way to surprise you." He replied to Keziah with a shrug.

Cyril looked around when Ozzy mentioned that Tweak had hitched a ride on the Shambler. The lady was so unobtrusive, he hadn't noticed it in the commotion. Which raised the question of why he didn't hear anything from her over the radio. He paused for a second, beginning to fiddle with the radio before Dream's voice cut in.

So, the administrator thought that they were a bunch of talentless apes who couldn't even handle an overgrown bouncy ball with legs. So instead, she'd send her tin plated bully boys in to finish the job.

Well, technically, they should just stand aside. Orders were orders after all. But then, the administrator was already stretching the limited respect for authority that they had drilled into his skull during basic. And even then, they had one of their squad with that thing didn't they? They couldn't pull back until they had retrieved he, now could they? Wouldn't be right.

Heeding Dream's request, he did a quick ammo check as he forged after the scuttling droid.

"I've got me sidearm an' fourteen rounds."
 
Elites? There were elites on this station? Exactly why boggled Keziah--personal bodyguard, probably, considering Montreal's attitude. Maybe they kept her safe from everyone else, but if they didn't kill her themselves then Montreal must've done something with them. Brainwashing, or maybe make them selectively deaf when she goes off on one of her ego-inspired rants. Maybe they're automatons.

That seemed the most likely.

Shaking her head, Keziah rose to her feet and followed after Cyril. He looked so strange with only one arm, his tail weaving behind him. There was a slight pang of envy mixed with pain at the sight of the one-armed marine. But she shrugged it off and trudged after him, doing her best to keep the pace with Flower.

"Will we be able to do anything to the Shambler with our guns?" she said to no one in particular. "Even Flower didn't seem to do much to it."
 
Don't tempt fate. Might just happen with all the luck we've had so far.

James looked over at Keziah and simply nodded. The marine tried to take any advice seriously, no matter how insignificant. This was no exception.

As Cyril, Keziah, and Ozz prepared to leave, James quickly got up and followed after them. There was no point in standing around and waiting for the shambler to come back, of course, there really wasn't a reason to track it down either. It was a bit of a catch 22. Either way, the situation was fucked up.

As per the orders, James reported in to Dream via radio

Code:
I have one more full clip with me. Some non-incendiary explosives would be nice though. If bullets can't get the job done, I bet concussion grenades will.
 
Code:
"The new mission parameters isn't to kill it. It's to contain it."
Serra's voice piped in through his radio.
Code:
"We're trying to show Cassifin that we can do this job, despite being "Baboons," whatever those are."
 
Code:
My Nepleslian dictionary says it's a Papio Cynocephalus, some kind of animal. From the look of the attached photo, Terra must've been stoned real good the day she came up with those things, they look REALLY weird. It probably wasn't anything that could come close to a compliment. But then, is anything that comes out of Real's mouth?
Explained Dream.
 
"Oh, thank you!" Purina huffed in relief and quickly reached into her pocket, fishing out a datapad. "This specimen of Beadicus Longlegus makes its habitat in musky, stagnant swamps, where it lives, feeds and breeds, so it's not surprising that it was able to survive in the waste processing system. They primarily feed on plant life, through a mouth appendage on the bottom of the main body..." Popjoy spoke expertly, forming motions with her hands to exemplify her explanation.

"She is very sturdy, as you can see...females are much bigger than males in the Longlegus genus. It's carapace is a very dense chitin composite. I'm...not sure how we can stop it. They aren't aggressive unless provoked, but if we don't find some way the CSS Elite will!"
 
Tweak turned off her radio's microphone and tried to assess her situation. She was on the leg of a sewer-critter that was making a mad dash down a pipe toward who-knew-where. One person wanted the critter recaptured, the other wanted it stopped at all costs.

Radio message from Tweak to everyone else said:
"Is there a simple way to knock it out? Like a pressure point or something? Because, short of cutting off its legs, gutting it, or causing rather large amounts of damage to the pipes here, I'm not seeing any way this Shambler is going to slow down before we get to where its heading."
 
Ozz was in pursuit running at top speed after a worm, a Tweak and a Robot. As agile as he could be, he lept around debris and damage doing his best to not let the distance grow.

Radio message from Tweak to everyone else said:
"Is there a simple way to knock it out? Like a pressure point or something? Because, short of cutting off its legs, gutting it, or causing rather large amounts of damage to the pipes here, I'm not seeing any way this Shambler is going to slow down before we get to where its heading."

Radio message from Ozz to everyone said:
"Perhaps, we should cut off its legs. More accurately, cut it out at the legs. The speed its running at, if we can trip it up, we can hope it might stop the rampage. If we can figure out a way to trip it, can Popjoy find a way to sedate it? Does she have tranquilizers or something we can use?"

As he finished, he continued to breath and run. The downfall of being un-enhanced. He had to suck it up and he did. However, now there were these "CSS Elites". He'd be damned if he was going to get shown up on his first patrol.
 
Cyril grinned genially as he passed through the sewer. Progress was a little faster now that, with flow restored, the level of liquid shit they had to wade through was slacking from waist hight to merely knee deep. A good omen?

Sevyn to Squad said:
Ah, but to do that Ozz, we'd 'ave to catch up with the fucker.
 
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