Gles
Well-Known Member
- RP Date
- 46.2
- RP Location
- REDACTED
Victor Stratos moved quickly onto the balcony of his high-rise apartment building, his steps clacking anxiously on the marbled flooring of the incredibly luxurious penthouse suite of the mega hotel he'd been residing in during his course of the dubious business he'd engaged in with the On'nin Ikemen.
"What do you mean? The money was delivered as promised! You boys are backing outta the deal now?!" he yelled into his communicator, "Whadayah mean you 'ain't givin' me shit'? You really think you gonna outsmart me 'cause you're the infamous Dekotora? I'm gettin' those fresh nekos whether ya like it or not- heh, police will have more than a shootout tryin' to get me!"
The man's expensive shirt and suit combo had held a device of particular interest to operative Volker, and at last, it was within sight as Victor pulled a black cylinder from his jacket pocket, thumbing open the cap to reveal a red button. "One push and the whole city is drinkin' poison, and we all know how you pushovers like your communities..... hey, wait.... hang on, you didn't... SAINT!? But they'll know you were in on it, too! You bunch of rats, you sold me out from the beginning! FINE! Maybe you'll kill me, but they won't be here to save your city in time- hey, did you?- dammit, he hung up!"
He threw his communicator to the ground in furious defeat, the bits of plastic shattering in response. He leaned against the railing overlooking the city square and eyed the red button. "Criminal bastards.. here goes nothin'."
As Victor's thumb grazed against the button, a hand covered it and pulled back just as another drove a sharp blade into the base of his neck. Silently, he prised the detonator from Victor's stiffening hand with a third hand while the fourth began to work with the first to gently lower him to the ground to not alert the man cleaning just outside the room. The assassin wore the same uniform as the small retinue of men who passed in and out of his home daily and had been pretending to occupy himself in the study as he overheard the frantic conversation.
This has been a moment weeks in the making.
"It's done," Silas said, stowing his pocket-sized knife; he spoke into a radio, where he knew his handler was listening. "Target was unable to trigger a detonation." The way he talked, it was as if he'd finished filing a particularly droll set of paperwork.
"Nice work, Volker," Barone's mellow voice came from the drawn hot tub in the suite, the cloak of his operative suit flickering back into the visible light spectrum as he removed his helmet, "you didn't even let him whimper; and the blood is contained on the granite. I'll bet the janitorial staff will appreciate that."
The man's sudden appearance was a surprise, but Silas reasoned quickly that an invisible threat would've stayed invisible. "I take it you would have preferred to wash it down the drain?" he replied, gesturing to the hot tub. His eyes were fixated squarely on this stranger, this unknown element that had crept into a meticulously planned operation. "You didn't come here to spout platitudes." Even desperate voyeurs had more convenient ways to view such crimes.
Barone mulled it over in his mind. "Maybe I just wanted to catch you in the act? See what you're made of?" he mused as he stepped out of the tub, water rolling off the stealth suit. From the nearest counter, he produced a folder and approached Volker, handing the papers to him, "I'm putting together a team. The mission will be hazardous, especially to those with a digital mind, which is why you're sought after for it. Are you familiar with the condition called ST Data Fragmentation?"
"The glitch that occurs in the digital minds of Nekovalkyrja," Silas knew of it in passing, but his focus rarely ever shifted from his current assignments. "I take it we've concluded that it isn't the anomaly we believed it to be?" There was no hiding it at this point; the man was with SAINT as if the stealth suit hadn't instantly given it away. Silas set down the seat of Victor's toilet and sat down, "Is it a manufactured condition?"
Dipping back into the warm bath water, Barone sighed, "And that, fellow operative, is the big question. This is classified, but it's at your clearance level, so there is no sharing- not even with the non-operatives of the team. I was once known as Candon Suites, but I died to a woman who could weaponize her own fragmented code in a psionic attack; she even claimed she could control people with it. THAT is the problem and why it's classified. Our task is to hunt down anyone else doing similar, discover the causes or data about fragmentation, and find a defense. We have a few leads, but I need front-liners who cannot be affected by this. We got a Separa'shan, and I'm hoping for an Abwehran, too. No digital mind, natural immunity."
One set of arms folded over Silas's chest, while another propped atop it so he could rub his chin thoughtfully. The identity of the man once known as Candon Suites didn't interest him so much as the matter of his death and the threat it could pose for the Empire. STDF was extraordinarily dangerous even at its current occurrence rate. To discover that it could be deliberately induced by a hostile party and bore a function like full-body control, well...
"You have my full cooperation," Silas said, his lips pursed into a thin line. His discretion was, naturally, also a given. "I'd like to be acquainted with the others as soon as possible."
"Glad to have you on board," Barone checked his watch, "ugh, yeah. This all moved a lot faster than expected... I got a clean up crew on the way... Room service? Victor over there is buying."
"What do you mean? The money was delivered as promised! You boys are backing outta the deal now?!" he yelled into his communicator, "Whadayah mean you 'ain't givin' me shit'? You really think you gonna outsmart me 'cause you're the infamous Dekotora? I'm gettin' those fresh nekos whether ya like it or not- heh, police will have more than a shootout tryin' to get me!"
The man's expensive shirt and suit combo had held a device of particular interest to operative Volker, and at last, it was within sight as Victor pulled a black cylinder from his jacket pocket, thumbing open the cap to reveal a red button. "One push and the whole city is drinkin' poison, and we all know how you pushovers like your communities..... hey, wait.... hang on, you didn't... SAINT!? But they'll know you were in on it, too! You bunch of rats, you sold me out from the beginning! FINE! Maybe you'll kill me, but they won't be here to save your city in time- hey, did you?- dammit, he hung up!"
He threw his communicator to the ground in furious defeat, the bits of plastic shattering in response. He leaned against the railing overlooking the city square and eyed the red button. "Criminal bastards.. here goes nothin'."
As Victor's thumb grazed against the button, a hand covered it and pulled back just as another drove a sharp blade into the base of his neck. Silently, he prised the detonator from Victor's stiffening hand with a third hand while the fourth began to work with the first to gently lower him to the ground to not alert the man cleaning just outside the room. The assassin wore the same uniform as the small retinue of men who passed in and out of his home daily and had been pretending to occupy himself in the study as he overheard the frantic conversation.
This has been a moment weeks in the making.
"It's done," Silas said, stowing his pocket-sized knife; he spoke into a radio, where he knew his handler was listening. "Target was unable to trigger a detonation." The way he talked, it was as if he'd finished filing a particularly droll set of paperwork.
"Nice work, Volker," Barone's mellow voice came from the drawn hot tub in the suite, the cloak of his operative suit flickering back into the visible light spectrum as he removed his helmet, "you didn't even let him whimper; and the blood is contained on the granite. I'll bet the janitorial staff will appreciate that."
The man's sudden appearance was a surprise, but Silas reasoned quickly that an invisible threat would've stayed invisible. "I take it you would have preferred to wash it down the drain?" he replied, gesturing to the hot tub. His eyes were fixated squarely on this stranger, this unknown element that had crept into a meticulously planned operation. "You didn't come here to spout platitudes." Even desperate voyeurs had more convenient ways to view such crimes.
Barone mulled it over in his mind. "Maybe I just wanted to catch you in the act? See what you're made of?" he mused as he stepped out of the tub, water rolling off the stealth suit. From the nearest counter, he produced a folder and approached Volker, handing the papers to him, "I'm putting together a team. The mission will be hazardous, especially to those with a digital mind, which is why you're sought after for it. Are you familiar with the condition called ST Data Fragmentation?"
"The glitch that occurs in the digital minds of Nekovalkyrja," Silas knew of it in passing, but his focus rarely ever shifted from his current assignments. "I take it we've concluded that it isn't the anomaly we believed it to be?" There was no hiding it at this point; the man was with SAINT as if the stealth suit hadn't instantly given it away. Silas set down the seat of Victor's toilet and sat down, "Is it a manufactured condition?"
Dipping back into the warm bath water, Barone sighed, "And that, fellow operative, is the big question. This is classified, but it's at your clearance level, so there is no sharing- not even with the non-operatives of the team. I was once known as Candon Suites, but I died to a woman who could weaponize her own fragmented code in a psionic attack; she even claimed she could control people with it. THAT is the problem and why it's classified. Our task is to hunt down anyone else doing similar, discover the causes or data about fragmentation, and find a defense. We have a few leads, but I need front-liners who cannot be affected by this. We got a Separa'shan, and I'm hoping for an Abwehran, too. No digital mind, natural immunity."
One set of arms folded over Silas's chest, while another propped atop it so he could rub his chin thoughtfully. The identity of the man once known as Candon Suites didn't interest him so much as the matter of his death and the threat it could pose for the Empire. STDF was extraordinarily dangerous even at its current occurrence rate. To discover that it could be deliberately induced by a hostile party and bore a function like full-body control, well...
"You have my full cooperation," Silas said, his lips pursed into a thin line. His discretion was, naturally, also a given. "I'd like to be acquainted with the others as soon as possible."
"Glad to have you on board," Barone checked his watch, "ugh, yeah. This all moved a lot faster than expected... I got a clean up crew on the way... Room service? Victor over there is buying."
