ASH: EUROPA - Infirmary Omega

Andrew Perron pwerdna at gmail.com
Sun Mar 1 11:17:55 PST 2015


On 2/18/2015 7:56 AM, Dave Van Domelen wrote:
<snip>
>       Caladrius adjusted the force-field clip that held my arm-cast in place.
> "Request denied, Hotspur.  It took three surgeries and an induced coma to
> keep you alive.  You've only been awake five days."

Sheesh. o.o

>       "Honour their sacrifice and take the time to heal," he insisted.  "A
> month has passed since your battle in Nice.  Someone with as high a Tesla
> Index as you should've been back in top shape by now.  You're staying here
> until we know whether your problem's biological or psychological."

Oooooooh. I'd forgotten about this.

> When I'd learned of my
> friend's selfless sacrifice, I'd vowed to never stand on the sidelines
> either.

That's... an interesting lesson to take from that.

>       I left the lab and headed for Security.  The architects had a bit of fun
> with the layout of the new super-infirmary.  The staff wing resembled the
> Greek letter alpha, and the prisoners' side omega.  A cross-shaped security
> zone linked the two, controlling staff and patient access.

Gratuitous symbolism!

>       Five photonic cybers must still be at large: two cybernetic hands, a
> sawtooth exospine, a forearm with a mounted laser, and the cyber-eye still
> embedded in Dusker's head.

If you put them together, Dracula resurrects.

>       I wheeled the chair into the operating theatre.  Dusker was unconscious,
> with a surgical sponge over a bleeding right eye.  Behind him, a hardlight
> exospine was strangling Caladrius.

Spine-tingling action!

> But on my first step I slipped on something round and lost my
> balance, falling flat on my back.  It knocked the wind out of me, but I spied
> a photonic cyber-eye rolling for the exit.

*snerk*

>       "Giantstar, can you hear me?" I shouted.
>       "What.  Are.  You.  Doing.  To.  Me?" he managed between breaths.
>       "It's not us.  Fight the cybers."

That's not the *most* encouraging way you could've said that.

>       I hopped over the lump of metal that used to be the wheelchair and
> weights, reheated the mass for another wall of steam, and kept going.  "How
> do I break the loop without killing him?"
>       "You can't, Hotspur, but I might.  I need to touch him flesh to flesh
> for ten seconds."

Ahhhhh, this trope. Very good.

> Summoning all my power, I raised a one-meter protective sphere against all
> metals just in time.  Giantstar had thrown the iron missile at my head, which
> would have smashed my skull in had my barrier not superheated it into
> liquefied metal.

Oh man, I'm imagining that visually and it's RAD.

>       I threw the mirror through the emerald cyber, flash-heating a pattern of
> cracks in the silver and copper.  The improvised mirror-bomb shattered into a
> countless pieces of metal and glass, blasting the photonic into reflected and
> refracted oblivion.

This too. o.ov

>       No.  An optical cable had been ripped out of the base of the station.
> They had escaped as light through the goddamn fibres.  There was no way for
> me to follow.

I'll get you next time, Hotspur! Next tiiiiiiiiime

Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, iiiiiiiiiiiiii


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