Levelling his pistol, Bill unloaded two rounds into the thing in the dark vent. Hearing voices in the distance, he quietly reloaded, wondering if they were the kind here to defend the place or the kind here to damage control everyone. Looking at his ammo supply, he counted 145 in the pack and zipped it up. Crawling further, he kept heading towards a security office he knew about. There he could hole up and perhaps get something with a bit more punch to it. Keeping his pistol in front of him, he heard the voices moving along underneath him, he slowed down to make less noise. "Man, this day has sure gone to hell", he thought to himself.

RP Conversation
Involving: 2Lt. Malcom Connor (Deimenried) and Arabella Peyeman (TeePee)
Drafted: 29th & 30th Sep 2008 via IM


> It was almost time. Mal finished his preparations and looked out across the room. Everyone was loaded and ready to move out on the word. He stood up, chambering the first round, when he saw Arabella approach.
> "Mal, do you need an extra pair of helping hands that can shoot?" asked Arabella "I want to get out there and get the SOBs who have done this to us all."
> "Get in line," Mal sighed, shaking his head. "Well, we could certainly use someone to help evacuate the survivors. We haven't much time. I only hope we can make enough of a difference."
> "I'm sure even if we rescued a tiny proportion of the population of this complex then we will have made a huge difference. We are up against a fearsome enemy here." Arabella paused for a moment and took a look around her at the soldiers with a hint of sadness as she realised that most of these men would probably die and her along with them if they aren't careful. "Whose squad do you want me on?"
> "Well..." Mal started, hesitating, "I was.. sort of hoping that you would be joining.. my squad..."
> Arabella gave a small smile towards Mal, "I'd like that." She then turned away to check on her supplies.
> Mal turned to see Zack giving a thumbs-up, nodding with a cheeky grin on his face, while the rest of Alpha One stood laughing. He shook his head and turned back to Arabella. "You ready?"
> "Yeah I'm ready." Arabella pulled out her P90, checked it was good to go and nodded to Mal.
> Mal took a deep breath, "Alright then." He turned to Alpha and Delta, "Everyone good to go?"
His reply was simple as various "OORAH!"s filled the room, either bellowed or smoothly spoken. The squads moved out to the tram stop past Lt. Mitchell, stood to the side of the exit. He was wielding the M4 Shrike that Mal had given him as his 10-year anniversary gift as an ECRU operative. Everyone else got him pocket watches, or plaques, some even gifted small collections of genuine silver (or even gold) bullets.
"You kids have fun." Mitchell winked.
"You take care of HQ, sir." Mal smiled "I want it in one piece if I'm to bring anyone back here!"
"I will." Mitchell turned to Arabella "Take good care of my wingman. He can be a bit headstrong, but I think you might be able to calm him down a little."
> Arabella slightly shocked turned to Mitchell "yes sir, I'll bring him back in one piece. Good luck." Arabella headed out towards the tram stop to catch up with alpha and delta squads. God it's weird being in a team. I don't know if I'll ever get used to it.
> Mal and Arabella approached the waiting squads.
"Took your time." Moss jibed, his smile not visible under his mask.
"Alright, alright. Just make sure Delta does it's job." Mal replied, before switching to secure radio "Alright everyone, remember the plan. Split and search. If you see any HECU, do not engage in conversation. Their barbs will be wasted on a silent enemy. Keep status updates quiet and on secure channels only."
"Roger that." Moss replied, "We'll do our best." The squads made their way along the maintainance lines and climbed up onto the nearby dormatories tram stop. Soon they approached the first T-Junction. "Good luck, sir." Moss whispered over the radio as Delta took the right hand passage, leaving Alpha to go left. After a matter of minutes they reached a second T-junction splitting the dormatories into two blocks.
"Here's where we split. Good luck Alpha Two!"
"Roger that. Moving out" Alpha Two's leader replied.
"Alright," Mal said, turning to Arabella. "Help the machinegunner keep watch while the riflemen clear the rooms, and you'll be fine." He paused before adding, "I'm not letting anything happen to you."
> Arabella was visibly touched by Mal's words, she nodded an understanding of his orders and took up position in the cover of a doorway across from the machine gunner. "I'll give two taps on the radio if there is a disturbance." She watched Mal and the rest of the squad move towards the first room and whispered under her breath "good luck and stay safe" before she focused on the corridor ahead of her.
> The corridors were a mess; masonry and corpses littering the floor. Ahead was the first room of the sweep. Malcom signalled the group to stack up. Malcom tried the door, but it was locked tight. He spun out from the wall and with one firm kick, broke open the door and returned to cover on the opposite side of the door as the three assault-riflemen moved in to the room.
> He's got a good kick on him...pay attention to the corridor Angry with her self Arabella stopped thinking about Mal and stared down the corridor, did that shadow just move? "Psst, I think I see something moving down the corridor."
> Lee nodded, bringing his SAW to bear, straining to see where Arabella had gestured.
> The shadow moved closer towards Arabella and Lee who were both aiming at it with their weapons. As it got to the last piece of fallen masonry in front of them it revealed itself to be a friend rather than a foe. "Tom!" Arabella whispered, "here boy." Tom looked pleased to find a friendly face and scampered towards Arabella. Arabella gave him a quick hug and a stroke before putting him down to focus on the corridor once more. I wonder what Tom has been up to since the accident? Tom just sat at Arabella's feet and started to groom himself.
> "Hey..." Mal whispered, Tom stared at him for a while, before letting out a small meow. He slowly padded towards Mal as he knelt down. "Hi little guy," Mal whispered as he gently stroked Tom's head, who was now sat two inches from him. Mal removed his mask. For the first time he was smiling ear to ear as Tom walked circles around him, rubbing against him and purring. "Aren't you gorgeous, eh?", a small "Meow" his reply.
"Clear. He ain't breathin'" Chase whispered over the radio. "Let's go." Mal got up, reattatching his mask as Tom padded back to Arabella.
> Arabella smiled to herself He's turning out to be a perfect guy, he even likes cats. I don't think I've seen Tom react like that to someone else other than me. "You're good with cats Mal, Tom doesn't normally respond to people like that."
> "We're buddies, aren't we?" Mal grinned, calling to Tom, "Just two soldiers, trying to make the best of a bad situation." Soon the riflemen emerged from the first room. Mal took a deep breath "Alright, second room; Stack up." The group quickly stacked up ready to search the next room. The door was unlocked, but to Mal's suprise, it was Tom who took the point, as he slinked through the door as it had barely been opened.
> Looks like Tom wants to make himself useful too. I hope he stays safe. I'm sure Mal will keep an eye out for him. Mind you Tom obviously can look after himself as he probably encountered some of this weird stuff. Arabella watched Tom and the squad go through the next door and settled herself down to continue watching the corridor along with Lee.
> "Hey, hey, hey.. Don't you go too far.." Mal whispered as entered after Tom. After a quick inspection, he saw Tom sitting on a pile of debris, looking down and meowing What? Has she been training him as a rescue cat? he thought to himself. "Hey, Chase, help me with this." Chase shouldered his rifle and assisted Malcom in heaving a huge chunk of concrete off the pile. The rest was made up of smaller, lighter chunks which were removed with ease. "We got someone in here!"
Hearing the call from the corridor, Zack ran in. "Alright, what have we got?" He looked to see a security guard half-buried under chunks of concrete. "Hey, you alright? You hear me?" The guard nodded, choking on the dust of the concrete they had just moved.
Mal took a step back and let Zack go to work. He returned outside to find Tom had already returned to Arabella. "You been training him?" Mal smiled, "He seems to be quite the hero!"
> Arabella looked down at Tom with a surprised look on his face "No, I found him as a stray a couple of years ago when I was in Chicago. Before that I have no idea what his life had been like." Arabella reached down to stroke Tom, "You're definately getting a slap up meal when we get out of here Tom. Did you find someone in there?"
> "He did indeed!" Mal grinned. "Zack's in the process of getting some security guard out of some heavy debris." He looked at Tom quizically. "How did you know?". Tom just stared back.
> Tom looked at Mal and gave a small meow before pouncing on a dust mote floating through the air. "He might have heard or smelt something but I'm afraid I was never that good at biology so I'm not sure." replied Arabella.
> "Psychic cat, eh?" Mal laughed, looking over his shoulder to check nobody was trying to sneak around. "Like his owner, a mystery, but one that's fun to solve."
"Say hello," Zack whispered backing out of the room jubilantly, bringing his G36 back to hand as the guard emerged, supported by Cpl. Matthews and Pvt. Cartwright. "To our latest survivor."
Lee nodded, smiling. "That's one up for the ECRU!"
"Yup," Zack beamed, "Just some minor fracturing... well, not an HEV 'minor fracture', the kind you get jumping off twelve-story buildings..."
"Next room, then; Stack up" Mal signalled the group towards the third door.
> Arabella took the guard off of Cpl. Matthews and Pvt. Cartwright and helped him to get comfy in the doorway. "I'll keep an eye on him while you check out the next room." Tom padded over to the guard and allowed himself to be stroked by the guard.
> The next door was locked. As if choreographed, Mal kicked the door in and returned to cover opposite the rest of the squad. The riflemen immediately moved in.
"Can't see anyone..." Chase whispered over the radio, "Holy ****...."
"What is it?" Mal asked, poking his head around the doorframe to see Chase examining a locker.
"Uh, your remember Security complaining about ammunition unaccounted for?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, check this out." Chase pulled out a cardboard box from the locker, and dropped it to the ground. Within was a huge stash of Beretta magazines. Mal laughed, looking at the guard.
"Don't look at me..." The guard sighed, shaking his head. "I knew like three people on this whole site."
"Whatever man..." Mal smiled. He looked to Arabella, raising his eyebrows.
> Arabella walked over to the doorway and took a look into the room. "Wow that is a huge stash. Someone has been a busy squirrel." Arabella walked back to her cover and took up her position.
> "Got that right.." Chase whispered, removing a further two boxes of ammunition. "If I didn't know better, I'd say we've got a militant group, or some undercover government dude..."
"Just leave it, guys." Lee said, looking through the door nervously, "The more we stand around, the more chance those freaks will find us. Let's just move on"
"Alright, alright." Mal nodded, "Leave the mags, we haven't the time or space for them." The soldiers filed out ready to go for the next door. "Lee, you take point on this one. Leg's a bit sore after that last one."
"Not a problem, sir." Lee replied, moving to the front, "Seems whoever lives there, didn't want anyone finding that stash. "
Mal ushered Cpl. Cartwright over. "Hey, Cartwright, take the guard for a second." Cartwright nodded and lifted the guard from Arabella. Seconds later there was a huge crash.
"For **** sake, Lee!" Zack hissed, "You didn't even check the lock!"
"I know, it's just really fun to do!" Lee laughed, motioning the soldiers into the room.
Mal turned to Arabella "Hey, 'Bella..." Mal whispered, his throat becoming dry "There's something I kept meaning to tell you... been meaning to tell you for a while..."
> Arabella managed to block out the comotion caused by Lee's entrance into the next room and focused her attention on Mal. With a sudden onset of butterflies Arabella replied to Mal, "yeah..." but before either of them could go any further there were some yells and shouts from the rest of Alpha one. "What the hell!" Arabella pulled her P90 out and walked carefully towards the room that Lee had botched the entry to.
> A single shot rang out. Mal and Arabella rushed into the room to see Chase covered in blood on the ground, a tendril receeding into the ceiling.
"****!" Chase cried. "Shhhhit!."
"What the hell was that?" Mal shouted. Zack peered up to see a barnacle had made it's home in a huge fissure in the ceiling, it's tentacle limp, the contents of it's digestive tract across the floor, and on Chase's uniform.
"It was that low down?" Zack asked, bewildered. "Christ, I swear your head must've been inside that thing.."
Chase looked up at him, clearly not amused. "It was."
"Uh... guys?" Lee quietly called, Maneuvering himself into the doorway, kneeling down, his M249 aimed down the corridor. "I think we may be getting company real soon..." The rest of the group pulled their gas masks down, rifles armed and ready, crouching as if waiting to pounce....

Dr Robert "Flynn" Kessal

[ooc: Sgt's name edited in.]

Walking slowly, Flynn and the Dreadnought wormed their way through the wreckage, searching for the next tram line. If we follow that, thought Flynn, We'll get to the ECRU place. Looking around, Flynn held up a hand to halt the Dreadnought. They were in more of the experimental labs. Looking into one, Flynn saw one of his previous creations. Made for communication, it held a radio, on-board translation software, and more importantly, a vocoder. Flynn signalled for the Dreadnought to follow him into the lab, and walked over to the defunct droid. Shaking his head, Flynn patted it's bodywork as a sign of respect, and proceeded to remove the vocoder, as the Dreadnought guarded the doorway.

Finally, he managed to remove the vocoder, and signalled the Dread to come into the lab. He then opened the service panel on the front.
"Now, I'm gonna have to shut you down for a minute while I install this," said Flynn to the Dread, "But once it's installed you'll be ready to go, as you already have the right software to use it." The Dreadnought made an affirmative click, then went into shutdown mode. Working like lightning, Flynn installed the vocoder in a matter of minutes. Shutting the panel, he re-activated the Dreadnought.
"Give it a try!" Flynn smiled.
+Fully operational.+
"Perfect!" Flynn grinned. He walked over to the door.

"Oh ****!" He whispered, and shrank back again, signalling for the Dread to stay where it was. He'd heard voices up the corridor, heading closer. Pulling out the pistol once more, he signalled for the Dreadnought to slowly come to the doorway. Once more, the Dread complied.
"Now, they're up the corridor. If they're on our side, you should recognise the faces, or the uniforms. That, and they won't fire. Stay on guard though. You ready?"
+Affirmative, master.+
"Good, head on out." The Dreadnought slowly rolled out of cover, his weapons trained on the people ahead. Flynn heard them freeze, and someone mutter "What the **** is that thing?" He waited for the Dreadnought's call.

+ECRU uniforms, gas masks. No shot fired, master.+
Flynn heard the soldiers talking to each other, and taking a chance, he slowly walked out of the doorway towards them, his gun in the air, held by the barrel. He'd seen enough movies to know that they would take that to mean he wasn't going to harm them.
"I'm Dr Robert Kessal, robotics engineer of Black Mesa. Now, I'm presuming your uniforms comply to what you are, because otherwise I'd be dead by now." He was surprised to hear a couple of the squad cheer, and the leader lifted his mask up. Scanning the leader's face, the Dreadnought automatically stood down.
"Hey there! I'm Sgt. Laurence Smith. Thank god we found another survivor. After all the dead we've found, we were starting to lose hope." Flynn nodded, and replied
"I know. So, you guys from the ECRU headquarters?" hoping they were.
"Sure as hell!" said Sgt Smith, pulling his mask back down. "We've sweeped our designated area now, we're going to head back to the rendezvous point with Alpha One. Follow us!" With that, the squad started falling back, with Flynn and the Dreadnought in tow. Well, thought Flynn to himself, Let's see who's survived this whole debacle. He turned to the leader of the squad.
"The only one of you guys I know personally is a guy named Malc. He survived?" Sgt Smith, and nodded.
"Malc knows everyone! He's the leader of Alpha One. We'll be meeting them shortly." Flynn nodded, and followed them as they headed back to the rendezvous point.

Kicking open the vent after checking it, Bill dropped down into the security office in time to see a scientist go running down the hall. About to call to him, he watched the turret spring to life, emptying several rounds into the poor balding man as he fell over the edge of the stair platform. Hitting the override, the security door slid shut, leaving bill alone in the Security office. Headed to the wall, he grabbed a shotgun and a box of shells, stuffing it into his backpack. "So much for getting out of the office", he thought to himself. He then pulled the chair by the console back against the wall, and began the long watch for survivors to let into the office.

[OOC: damnit this tab has been open for almost three hours and I haven't written anything ]

Lt. Sparks

Sparks and his squad moved through the maze of corridors, everything cast in shades of green through their night-vision, not bothering to turn it off as the areas of light never lasted more than 20 meters.
With each room they swept they found little but more destruction and the occasional headcrab and its host. It seemed the Vortiguants weren't coming out to play this time. The aliens fought back, even if futilely, but they were better than the pitiful survivors... Just crying or pleading for their life to a soldier whose face they couldn't see... Whose smile they couldn't see.

Almost half an hour passed and countless rooms had been searched before they paused in one.
Jack lifted his gas mask off of his head and ung it over an upturned table, "I'm going to give you guys the choice, we either keep this up or we make a more direct line to E.C.R.U. headquarters... Thoughts?"
As the other four thought Sparks ran his hand through his hair before wiping the sweat on his pants and scratching the stubble on the side of his face.
"Well, we should probably keep searching," Rogen spoke up first, "That way we know nothing is behind us."
"Yeah but the longer we take doing this the more likely we are to have trouble at the 'R.U. boys' base." Partington offered.
"so, that's one vote each way. What about you two?" Sparks turned his gaze to Lewis and Frett.
Lewis cracked his knuckles slowly before replying, "Well, I'm in the mood to blow some **** up so-"
"What's new?" Rogen joked, slapping Lewis on the back.
"Ha ha. Shut up for a second would you?" Lewis responded, "So, I think we move on their HQ."
"OK, Frett?" All eyes focussed on the new addition to their squad as Sparks asked.
"Well... I think I agree with Ro-" A sudden flash of green light and an electrical noise erupted in the corridor behind them, cutting him off.

Sparks pushed through the others whose night-vision had left them blinded and dazed from the flash and stepped into the corridor where a pair of Vortiguants now stood.
Jack hastily unloaded a magazine into the pair before stepping back into the room as a burst of green lightning shot past the doorway.
"You guys alright?" Jack asked his squad as he clipped another magazine into his MP5.
The murmured replies sounded in the affirmative and Sparks rolled into the corridor, coming up onto one knee and putting three rounds into the eye of each creature and watching them hit the ground before standing and moving back into the doorway.
"Alright, I've never seen them show up like that before... But that was a fucking bright flash."
"You're telling us? We weren't even looking at it!" Dean responded.
"I was. From now on, no night-vision, we're going flashli-"
"Why not thermal?" Rogen interrupted.
"All you'll see is red. Their lightning is far too hot for our **** government thermal to deal with."
With that Sparks strapped his mask back on and attached his flashlight to his weapon, "So, Frett... You were saying?"
"I was going to agree with Rogen, but after that I don't think we're ever going to be sure there's nothing behind us. So E.C.R.U. assault it is."

Jack nodded as the others joined him in the corridor and they started towards the E.C.R.U. command, not bothering with any rooms that had closed doors and only briefly peeking into those that were open. It was all the same, a room with some rubble and a headcrab or a survivor, either way it only took one bullet.
But finally they were getting somewhere, the E.C.R.U. HQ was only a few corners away and they still hadn't seen a single enemy soldier.
'Wonder if our friends are there...'
Jack had to keep himself from laughing as he slowly approached the corner that would lead them to the corridor outside the entrance to the tram stop that stood in the only entrance to the E.C.R.U. command sector.
In a whisper Sparks spoke to his squad, "Alright, this tram stop is the best place to stage a defence so we can guarantee it'll be held tighter than a Jew's budget. But this is one bank we're breakin'. And we're doing it now. Let's move."

With a series of signals Sparks told his men to go dark and be silent as they moved around the corner, each man taking up a cover position as best he could in the corridor. All guns trained on the junction with the entrance.

One last signal and Dean was ready to throw a smoke into their midst, but as his finger wrapped around the pin Sparks gave him the cease signal.

Footsteps. Towards the other end of the corridor footsteps were approaching, along with what sounded like the pitter of paws...
Jack looked to Partington and gave a 'what the hell?' shrug before turning his gaze back to where their company was approaching.
In barely a whisper Jack spoke into the comms, "Only fire if they're a threat. We don't know if they know our orders yet."

As he stayed silently crouched in the corridor, half hidden in a doorway Sparks couldn't help but wonder about the weird gut feeling he was having...
'Paws... Who the hell is coming?'

[OOC: ...and four hours after I opened the tab, I've finished >.>]

2Lt. Malcom Connor

Lee gazed down the hall. Three humanoid shadows were thrown before them at the junction. Their build looked wiry, their movement looked inhuman.
"What the hell..." Lee whispered to himself as three creatures rounded the corner. They moved to position at the end of the corridor, their brown skin reflecting the fluorescent lighting from overhead. Around each of their necks and wrists, iridescent rings of metal were wound, as if the binds of a slave. Lee tried to remain out of sight as they slowly they began to move down the corridor, their wiry arms haniging by their sides.
"What the hell's going on?" Mal hissed over the radio.
"Three Tangos. Not sure what the hell they are, sir." As if overhearing the conversation, the three creatures stopped dead, their bulging red eyes fixed on the door Lee hid behind.
"****....." Lee muttered. Slowly he brought his M249 to bear. Suddenly the creatures took a step back, green lightning shot to their hands from the surrounding stonework. With almost choreographed timing they brought their hands forward, and three bright bolts shot forward, directly into Lee's chest. The rest of the group recoiled as Lee was thrown backward into the room, sliding back across the floor. Zack rushed across to him as Mal and Chase took position at the door and opened fire on the creatures.
"How is he?" Mal called back.
"Alright, by the looks of it." Zack replied, "So long as he isn't hit again, he'll be fine!"

Methodically the three creatures were gunned down, Chase moving in on their downed bodies, emptying the remainder of his clip to be sure.
"No sense hanging around." Mal sighed, signalling everyone to move out. Lee managed to pull himself to his feet, exchanging the heavy weight of the SAW for Chase's G36.
"You sure you know how to use that thing?" Lee wheezed
Chase laughed, "Yeah, don't worry about it. It's not hard to hit something with one of these."

Tentatively, the group made their way out to the tram stop.
"Command, This is Connor. We're incoming with survivors and wounded. Be ready for us, over."
"Roger that." Mitchell replied "Just make sure you get as many back in one piece as possible. Mitchell out."

RP Conversation
Involving: 2Lt. Malcom Connor (Deimenried), Arabella Peyeman (TeePee), Lt. Jack Sparks (MyNameDidntFit) and Dr. Robert Kessal (LorgarForneus)
Drafted: 7th Oct 2008 via IM

> They were nearly home. Mal rounded the corner, looking down the hall through the iron sights of his AK. Immediately he took cover on the opposite side of the T-junction and signalled the others to stack. Down the hall, several members of the H.E.C.U. were preparing for an assault. A moment later Tom took his cue to wander into the centre of the corridor, only to have Arabella run across and scoop him up on her way to the other side of the corridor behind Mal.
> As Arabella made it to the other side of the corridor she made a look of annoyance towards the way she came and whispered to Mal "it looks like we have caught up with some H.E.C.U. trying to attack command." She then looked down at Tom, "why the hell did you decide to run across the corridor?" Tom just looked at Arabella and gave a meow.
> The moment the woman had disappeared Jack's mind lit up with a spark of recognition. Lifting his gas mask and smiling at his squad he looked down the corridor;
"Holy ****," Jack called out, extending the vowels excessively, "Ya know, lass, those crossbow bolts fuckin' sting."
> "Of all the people we could meet in this God-forsaken place..." Mal muttered, seeing Jack lift up his mask.
"Who is it?" Zack asked over the radio, well out of sight of the action mid-stack.
"You really don't want to know..." Mal replied, switching to his Elite. "But if he wants trouble, I've got no problems in removing him from our path..."
"Fancy seeing you here..." Mal called down the hall. "Still playing soldiers with your little friends?"
> Jack chuckled and waved down the corridor, "Oh for sure, how about you? Got any friends left to play soldiers with? Or did my friends kill them all?"
As he finished Jack reached behind him and opened the door to the room behind him, checking it and seeing no threat he slid further into cover, almost waiting for another crossbow bolt.
> "Well done!" Mal called back, his voice rife with sarcasm, signalling the group to stand ready. "I never expected to hear so many long words come from a spineless government lapdog... I thought all you could say was "Yes, sir!'"
> "Oh ho! You are more fun than the old man. Funny, it seems your lips really liked his ***. Whatever happened to him?" Sparks yelled back, hoping for an answer along the lines of 'he's dead'.
> Mal made an excessively loud laugh, "Alive. Unfortunately you won't live long enough to see him, of course. Tell me. How much did it take for that suit to buy out your morality? 6K? 7? I imagane that's a lot of money to an unrefined yokel like yourself."
> 'What the ****... The suit... Holy ****,' Jack's mind flew at a million miles an hour as he tried to process this new development, 'How the hell does he know?' he shook his head, 'Gotta stay on the ball, Jack.'
"Morality? You work here and you're lecturing me on morality? HA!" Jack knew his voice showed the shock of the soldier's comment about the suit but there was nothing he could do to hide it.
> Mal let out a sly smile. 'Seems he does know...' "Of course! I forget that genocide is more morally sound than science! How foolish of me to confuse them!" Mal sighed, fed up of the pointless playground name-calling competition. Lives were at stake, and this was no time to mess around. "If you don't mind, there are people in here that may yet be alive. So if you'll go play outside for a bit, I'll call you when supper's on!"
> "Now we have a conundrum don't we... Your job's to save 'em... Mine's to kill them." Jack let out a loud 'hmm', "Whatever shall we do, eh mate?"
> "Well..." Mal let out a deliberately audible sigh, "That's the million dollar question. Personally, I'm in favour of D - Kill you, and any other yokel who thinks killing innocents is fun, save the people, get them out of here and the rest will follow."
> "Really now? I'm not such a bad person. For example, I haven't shot you yet," Jack chuckled at his addition of 'yet' before continuing in a bad Redneck accent, "So y'all gunna keel us here yokels 'bout now?"
> "Don't tempt me," Mal said before assuming a stereotypical Aussie accent, "MATE."
> "Oh, now come on, taking the piss of my accent? That's just mean," Jack laughed, "I think we got off on the wrong foot."
With a pause Sparks got to his feet and stepped into the centre of the corridor, "The name's Jack. How's about we shake hands and I kill you?"
>"Eerrmmmm..." Mal mock-pondered, "I find it easier to shake hands with someone after I've killed them..."
> Jack started slowly forwards, his eyes set on a doorway, almost ten meters ahead of him to the left, as he spoke, "So, how's about you tell me your name?" he paused, "And how about your girlfriend's number? She's got quite the *** on her."
> "Malcom's the name, but then again you'll find out when you see the tapes of her with me on the internet." Mal paused before putting on a patronising voice. "Aww, don't worry, yokel. You've still got your sister!"
> A smile spread across Jack's face and he laughed genuinely, "At least it wasn't a 'your mother' joke, you're one step about the twelve year olds, Malc. Don't mind me calling you Malc do ya?" By the end of his sentence Sparks was in the doorway and slowly turning the handle, stopping when it was turned the full way, he looked to the corner but still couldn't see around it.
> "You can call me what you want," Mal called, bringing his Elite to bear, "It's not my fault if you waste your last words on such things."
> 'Last words? Better move, Jack.'
Sparks stayed still for but a moment, watching as Malcom swung around the corner, his eye to the scope of a sniper rifle.
"Fire at will boys!" Sparks yelled as he dove backwards through the door even as a round from Malcom's rifle tore a large hole in the wood.
Jack hit the ground with a thud and jumped to his feet, scanning the room quickly only to see a headcrab zombie merely a meter from him.
"****!" he exclaimed loudly as he brought his MP5 up in a line, emptying the entire magazine into the zombie from toe-to-head before it fell.
> "Bastard..." Malcom muttered as Jack disappeared through the door.
'Fair enough. I'll just have to kill his little friends.' he thought, lining up one of the other soldiers in his sights. Just as he pulled the trigger, the soldier stumbled, falling below the bullet. Mal frantically signalled the others to start firing, and the rest of the group took up their positions.
> As the gunfight broke out all four of Sparks' squad did their best to keep cover whilst firing down the line and Sparks attempted to get a few shots off at Malcom but never hit more than the corner of the wall.
'I hope those concrete chips hurt fucker.'
Almost laughing at his own futility Jack looked around for something to help him but found nothing. Finally in a fit of resignation he spoke into his comms, "Get the hell out of there the moment you think it's getting ugly."
Partington's reply came in the affirmative and Jack turned away from the door, storming to the other side of the room and punching hard into the wall in frustration.
> Soon the whole force of Alpha One was directed down the corridor, the air full of gun-smoke, bullets and crossbow bolts.
"Connor, this is Mitchell." Mal's radio crackled. "What the hell is going on out there?"
"It's a mess out here, sir!" Mal replied, "Seems the H.E.C.U. is just outside. Requesting backup!"
"Roger, that. Echo is moving to back you up."
> Flynn heard shooting coming from down the corridor. Sgt Smith signalled for them to hold back, and slowly crept closer, to determine the source of the firing. Turning round, he called "Wright, follow me." Wright crept up, and slowly moved to look round the corner.
> As the four soldiers tried to hold their own against the onslaught from the end of the corridor Rogen heard footsteps behind them and spun to face the corridor just as a gas-masked face leant around. Within seconds a .300 Winchester from his rifle punctured the glass lens of the soldier's mask and his limp body hit the floor. Only a moment later the soldier's comrade rounded the corner with his gun raised and met the same fate.
> Flynn saw the bodies hit the floor, taking this as his cue to signal the Dreadnought to slowly move forward and scan the battlefield, attacking any enemy targets it sees. Flynn remained back and waited.
> Rogen kept an eye on the corner, awaiting another soldier-lemming, but what rolled around was not what he expected; a strange robot-looking thing.
"...the ****?" Rogen muttered as he fired his third round into what he thought was it's head, but still being rewarded only with a few dents.
The next thing that happened widened his eyes further, the robot's left arm unleashed a series of orange beams, tearing into Frett's flesh and effectively ripping him to shreds.
"Get the **** out of here!" Rogen yelled and, regardless of his rank the others listened.
Taking pot-shots as they ran through the doorway in which Sparks had first hid and slamming the door behind them, all looking at each other in disbelief. After a minute Partington led them through a door on the other side of the room as he tried to contact Sparks over the comms.
> Malcom's group stopped firing as the H.E.C.U. squad split and went their separate ways. Alpha Two came out of cover and joined up. Lambert approached Mal, lifting up his mask showing a face full of fatigue.
"Where's Smith?" Mal asked looking around at the group behind Lambert.
"Dead." Lambert sighed, "Wright aswell."
Mal hung his head a moment, raising it as Echo finally showed up. "Took your time." He called, indicating the direction Jack had taken and Echo disappeared through the door, their footsteps fading into the distance.
Mal was jolted out of his thoughts as his radio sounded "Alpha, this is Delta. Mal, what the hell happened out there? We've just got back!"
Mal hesitated, before finally activating opening the channel to respond. "Survivors are fine, but Smith and Wright are K.I.A."
"****, Mal. We can't afford to be losing men, especially in this situation. Meet me back at HQ. We need to re-evaluate our position and plan the next move."
"Agreed. See you there, Lukas, Connor out." Malcom sighed, returning his radio to it's holder. "Bring the weapons and bodies inside. Let's see if we can't form a better plan..." Suddenly Echo came out through the door, finishing their search.
"You find anything?"
"Dead end," the lead soldier sighed, shaking his head, "Sure your man went that way?"
"Don't worry about him," Mal replied "You got everyone back in one piece. Let's just return the base and think about this... Maybe we can find a way of saving more survivors without losing the same number of our own..."

Lt. Sparks

The pounding of Jack's boots on the concrete floor resounded through each room that he traversed in his search for an escape. But as he slid to a halt in what seemed the last room he had found no escape route. It seemed he had found a dead end; the room that would have to hold his last stand.
Those were his thoughts until they shattered when his eyes locked onto what seemed to be a small metal grate, half covered by a fallen cabinet.
"'bout time I got some luck." Sparks muttered to himself as he pushed the cabinet from the grate and pulled the cover off.
As he climbed down the meter drop that the grate held he paused for a moment and listened to the rushing footsteps drawing nearer before pulling the grate closed behind him and inspecting the surroundings.

He was crouched in a 2 by 2 meter area with a 1 meter high ceiling, directly ahead of him a small vent looked to lead from the area and back the way he had come. Quickly kicking in the vent Jack laid down and started crawling into the vent even as the footsteps reached the room above him. Jack found himself almost laughing as one of the soldier's comments reached his ears;
"What the hell? We searched everywhere..."

The vent lasted roughly 40 meters before it opened into an area of the same size as the previous one, only longer, and it's ceiling was split down the middle by a grate which looked out into a corridor. As Sparks lay on his back looking up into the corridor he caught the end of a conversation from the E.C.R.U. soldiers who were seemingly nearby.
"Dead end," one of them sighed, "Sure your man went that way?"
"Don't worry about him," replied the familiar voice of Malcom, "You got everyone back in one piece. Let's just return the base and think about this... Maybe we can find a way of saving more survivors without losing the same number of our own..."
Jack smiled to himself, 'So the boys must've done some good.'
By some fluke the moment his thought's finished a voice came over his comms, it was Partington:
"Come in Jack! Damnit. Where the hell are you!?"
"Don't get too upset there," Jack paused, "Sitrep?"
This time Rogen replied, "I killed two soldiers that came behind us but," he paused a moment, "Some... Robot thing tore Frett to pieces with these lasers, it took my Winnies like they were nothing Jack... What the hell kinda tech do they give these PMC shitbags?"
"A robot? Weird... I don't think that would have belonged to the E.C.R.U., don't worry. I'm sure Isaac can take care of it if you see it again."
A short laugh came across the waves as Lewis replied, "You fuckin' know it LT."
Jack started to reply but stopped himself at the sound of footsteps and instead whispered quietly to his squad, "OK, I gotta go. Don't worry about me, just try to find some more guys to hook up with... Look after yourselves."
"You too, Jack. Partington out."

For a minute Jack sat in silence before looking at the walls around him; each one was adorned with another vent, but there was no way up to the surface from this chamber.
'Well, I guess I'll head for E.C.R.U. command, see if I can't drop in and say "hi" to the old man.' Jack laughed quietly and moved towards the vent that seemed to head towards the E.C.R.U. command.
As he took off the vent cover and started along the cramped tunnel a smile spread across his face, 'Malc might even have supper ready.'

2Lt. Malcom Connor and Arabella Peyeman

(OOC: Sorry this has run so long, but it has a rather story-critical briefing which added a lot of bulk, especially the RP Convo section.)

Alpha and Echo made their way through the corridors, past row upon row of fortifications. As they entered the HQ lobby, Mal saw Mitchell and Lukas at the front desk waiting for them, discussing recent events.
"....you know I agree with you, Lukas, but the rules are different now. Procedure will only get us so far..." Mitchell turned to see Mal and his squad approach. "Ah! Just the man I needed to see."
Mal looked around the lobby at the meagre number of survivors. "From the looks of it, we've lost more than we've saved."
"Yes..." Mitchell sighed, "That's why we need a change of plan. It's clear now that the HECU is more than just a minor annoyance. They're a full blown pain in the ***.. and seem intent on making our job ridiculously difficult."
"Yeah, I can vouch for that..." Mal shook his head.
"Which leaves us two choices." Mitchell began, before being interrupted.
"Neither of which is viable." Moss interjected, "Both are-"
"Which leaves us TWO CHOICES." Mitchell glared at Moss, "Viable or not. Now, either we make peace.."
"The chances being statistically insignifi-"
"OR," Mitchell continued, "We make war."
"Neither seems pretty..." Mal began
Moss took a melodramatic sigh of relief "THANK you..."
"But the status quo isn't exactly in our favour either." Mal replied, "Doing nothing will be far more damaging to our situation."
Mitchell took a deep breath. "Well, we'll have to agree to disagree for now. Take a little rest. I'll get the relevant personnel together and call a briefing in 15 minutes." With that, Mitchell and Moss disappeared into the communications room. Mal sighed and sat down behind the reception desk, putting his weapons down in front of him. He leaned back in the large leather chair and removed his helmet. At last.[i] he thought, closing his eyes, [i]Five minutes of peace... He opened his eyes again, sitting back up. Best make the most of this. He unloaded the AK, and began fine-tuning the sights.

After a couple of minutes of fiddling, he saw the quartermaster Sgt. Jacobs stood outside the stores, staring into space.
"Jacobs!" Mal called over, jolting him out of his daydreaming.
"Hey, Malcom!" Jacobs' face lit up as he wandered over to the desk, "Didn't see you there! How did it go?"
Mal sighed "For our squad? Alright as things go around here. Found one survivor and a cat."
"A cat?" Jacobs laughed
"Yeah, belongs to our newest addition." Mal craned his head, looking around the lobby, "Don't know where she is at the moment. Anyway. I was wondering if you had any scopes that'll fit on a 'K?"
Jacobs took a deep breath. "That's really more of a speciality thing... the sort of thing you'd have found in the cache where you found it." He paused briefly, "I'll see what we've got in the stores... we're more NATO in here than Warsaw, mind." Mal got up and followed him to the stores. As Jacobs entered, Mal waited at the counter, playing with his AK-108. Through the bullet-proof glass, he could see Jacobs thumbing through the manifest and examining the gun racks.
"Maybe we're a little Warsaw!" Jacobs laughed, retrieving an SVU from one of the racks. "That's going back a bit! Forgot we confiscated this."
"What haven't you got in there?" Mal chuckled
"Well, a minigun or two would be nice..." Jacobs replied, trailing off.

As Jacobs was busy rummaging around, occasionally pulling out the occasional rarity, Mal examined the breech of his AK. When he turned back to the counter, a familiar face was staring at him.
"Well hello, there!" Mal said, seeing Tom sat on the counter. "What are you doing here? You want a gun as well?" Tom meowed, looking around the lobby. Mal leant back on the counter, Tom looking over his shoulder. "Surveying the troops then?" He chuckled, looking back at Tom.

> Arabella walked into the lobby half looking for Tom and half just looking around the headquarters. "Oh there you are Tom, I've been looking for you." Arabella walked up to Tom and gave him a quick stroke before turning to Mal "Hello, you two seem to have got on well together. Do you think there would be some spare ammo for my weapons?"
> "You people are like buses!" Jacobs called from the stores. "For a whole hour and a half; Nothing. Then two of you come at once. Malcom, I've got a PSOP, that's the best I can do for now." Jacobs passed a box through the partition. "It'll take a little calibration for an AK, but it should do the job. Anyway," He said, turning to Arabella. "What is it that you need?"
> Arabella took a quick look over her inventory before calling back, "I could mainly do with something for a P90. As apart from that I'm relatively well stocked unless you happen to also have some crossbow bolts."
> Jacobs gave Arabella a quizzical look before looking at Mal, who just shrugged. "Seriously..." Jacobs sighed, "Why does nobody order anything normal?" He returned to the stores, calling back; "Long time since I've had any 5.7 through these parts. We usually only deal with 5.56; maybe a bit of 9mm, or .45 cal..." Jacobs started rummaging around the confiscated munitions rack again. "Ah!" He exclaimed, "I've got it as loose, but not in mags." He pulled out a small box labelled "200x(5.7x28mm - SS190)", and pushed it through the delivery slot in the partition. "Take as many as you need." He chuckled, "Nobody else uses that stuff! By the way, how in hell did you come by a P90 in this place?"
> Arabella glanced towards Mal before trying her luck "I...found it....thanks for the ammo" Arabella said as she walked over to pick up the box. Arabella paused to see whether Jacobs would accept that as an answer.
> "Sure." Jacobs laughed, shaking his head. "And my great aunt Bea was a sergeant in 'Nam." He turned to Mal, "How is it everyone gets better hardware than us? I swear even security must be packing some RPG's or something..."
> Arabella smiled at Jacobs before turning to Mal, "do we have any plans for the next move against our foe? Or are they still being finalised?"
> Mal looked at the clock on the wall. "Briefing should be starting soon... Surprised Mitchell hasn't-"
Mal was cut off as his radio sounded; "This is Mitchell. Alpha, Delta, Echo and Arabella Peyeman, report to the briefing room immediately."
"Guess that's our cue." Malcom walked over to the reception desk, picking up the remainder of his items. "Never go ANYWHERE without a full loadout." he chuckled to himself. "Come on! Chop chop guys and girl!" He called, ushering the relevant squads into the briefing room. Tom decided to take the initiative and overtook everyone.
> Arabella followed Mal to the briefing room and when they got there they found Tom already sitting in front of one of the front row seats looking attentive and alert. "It's times like this that I wonder what Tom's life was like before he met me. He seems to be an extremely intelligent cat." Arabella muttered to Mal as she sat down in one of the seats.
> The mass of soldiers filed in and took their seats. The briefing room was almost like a small auditorium; several rows of seats, ascending to the back, each seat having its own flat space for soldiers to make any relevant notes. At the front there was a table, upon which Mitchell and Moss had a multitude of documents and scribbled notes. A projector in the ceiling idle, showing plain white on the board behind them. Mitchell signalled Malcom to join them at the front. Once everyone was seated and the doors closed, the briefing began
"Alright." Mitchell began rubbing his hands together, "There have been some significant revelations over the past few hours, and it's about time we had a comprehensive run-down of the situation." He paused and looked around. "I know most of you are wondering why we have such a select group in this briefing, especially in the presence of Miss. Peyeman and her cat, which I've only just noticed." There was a small ripple of laughter, as the soldiers looked at the cat, sat in front of Arabella. "This is because you have been selected as part of our new initiative. Moss will give you the tactical run-down."
Moss took a step forward. "Thank you, sir." he cleared his throat, glancing at the foremost documents on the table. "We have an update on the HECU situation, mainly thanks to the return of most of Juliet squad, which has allowed us to assign some scouts. What they've captured isn't pretty." He picked up a small remote control, clicking a button causing the first slide to be shown. Photos of bombed out industrial buildings, offices and logistics depots were brought up on the screen. "As you can see, it's more of a mess up there than it is down here. The HECU has been caught in a full scale war; not with ECRU operatives, or surviving allied forces, but with the aliens." Around the room, confused looks were appearing on people's faces. "We thought these aliens were just a by-product of whatever catastrophe caused this situation, but these aliens have been seen to work collaboratively against human forces, suggesting that this is no mere incursion, but a full scale invasion."
"For what purpose?" Mal enquired as the other soldiers muttered to each other in disbelief.
"To be honest," Moss said, turning to him but making sure everyone could still hear the answer, "we have seen no reason for this to occur beyond the fact that the experiments carried out here were seen as an act of aggression against their world. The good news is that they are making short work of a lot of the smaller HECU squads. The bad news is that once they're through with the HECU, they'll come after us."
Mitchell stepped forward once more, "Which brings us to the age-old question; What are we going to do about it?" He arranged some of the documents in front of him, "As you may well be aware, search-and-rescue operations were detrimented by both aliens and HECU. We can no longer tolerate either party. We've left the doors open to negotiation for long enough. It's time they were sealed shut. Some of your squads will be on the forefront of the operation to directly engage any and all hostile parties, the rest will resume search-and-rescue patterns as before. It's imperative that we carefully balance our limited resources on both missions."
"How are the assaulting squads going to go about engaging these forces?" Natalya asked.
Mitchell brought up the next slide; a schematic of the neighbouring facilities, areas of which were coloured to represent ECRU, HECU and Alien lines of attack and defence. "Thanks to our scouts, we've identified 'where the action is'. With this information we can crush certain squads between two lines of enemies. This way we take advantage of these warring enemies, and in so doing turn our situation around for the better."
Mal came forward to ask another question; "How many squads are we committing to this new objective?"
"We've recently had incoming survivors from both Juliet and Hotel squads since you were here last, and we're also counting on the members that are still out there in the facility."
"How co-operative they will be remains to be seen, of course." Moss interjected. "But we're confident that they will at least realise the need to rejoin us, if only to help fight a common enemy."
"Hopefully the aliens will do most of the work for us..." Mitchell added. "Which brings me on to the final point of order; we've had an unusual development with the nature of the alien forces. Approximately one hour ago, the HQ guard reported a Vortigaunt at the tram station. One of the perimeter patrols who were guarding the area were surprised that it did not engage them. Fortunately, unlike the HECU, they decided to hold fire." All around the room people were beginning to whisper to one another, "This particular Vortigaunt showed no signs of a aggression, and perhaps most notably, had none of the metallic binds found on those we have seen thus far. In fact it seemed more inclined to attempt communication with us, although to little avail as neither party understood one another. He is now under guard in the holding cells, and we've committed all remaining linguists to attempt to overcome this language barrier, as we believe that this Vortigaunt may wish to defect, or at least surrender itself."
"Not meaning to sound ignorant," Arabella began, "but which aliens are the Vortigaunts?" Some laughing could be heard from the more arrogant soldiers.
"No, no." Mitchell implored "Quite a valid question. Not every squad has had the misfortune of running into them. I believe you, however have, despite not realising. And I'm sure Lee will never forget what a Vortigaunt is." Lee simply smiled, holding his hands up. "We believe them to be a general warrior caste, as they seem subservient of the other alien forces we have identified as sentient, although the binds may imply some degree of slave status."
"Alien slaves?" Chase asked, looking bemused. "So this Vortigaunt has revolted against this slavery?"
"Well," Mitchell sighed, "That's something we're going to have to find out for ourselves, but that is what we believe to be the truth."
"Why did it come to us?" Donnovan asked, "Why didn't it defect to the HECU?"
"Now that is something we certainly have no concrete reasoning for, although judging from the HECU myself and Alpha have met, I'd say that they aren't interested in taking prisoners or accepting defecting enemies. We believe it came to us because we're a neutral party in this 'war'. It had to escape its enemy, the HECU, and its former masters. We were most likely the logical choice based on our defensibility and number." Mitchell paused for a moment, musing. "But, like I said; We'll just have to wait and see what information, if any, our defecting Vortigaunt will pass on to us. Well." Mitchell took a deep breath, "It's time to finalise our plan of action. Moss?"
Moss once more took a step forward and arranged the few remaining documents on the table in front of him. "This is how it's going to work. Alpha and Delta will be the spearhead in this situation. We're to go out and find any remaining ECRU operatives willing to join us, and attack key HECU and alien positions that are weak, and prone to counter-attack. Once we have a sizeable force under our control, we will strike the larger targets. We know the renegade ECRU operatives hold some serious hardware. We intend on putting that to good use. Echo squad will join with the Juliet squad upon their return to base from their scouting duties. Once your squads have joined, you are to continue the search-and-rescue mission as discussed before. Couldn't be simpler."
"I have a nagging feeling that's what you said before..." Mal sighed
"Well, rest assured, this time we mean it. We're dropping a lot of the doctrines that were holding us back previously. It's become crystal clear that this facility is not going to survive, not with such frequent air-strikes and other bombing runs. Our secondary goal is no longer to preserve materials and equipment. It caused this conflict, and saving it isn't going to resolve that situation. Also, we are now operating on a weapons-free system in relation to HECU. Do not speak with them, but avoid conflict where necessary. If they open fire on you, open fire back. No hesitations this time. We really do not have the time or resources to spend on such endeavours. We are also dropping another Black Mesa doctrine which is not doing us any favours; Do not shoot to maim, or disable; Shoot to kill. Grenades and Shotguns are still to be used with caution, however. Be aware of the surrounding environment. If it's clear of dangerous materials, do not hesitate to make full use of grenades or grenade launchers." A wave of disbelieve and surprised chatter emerged, "Yes. We're opening the stores' restricted munitions caches for active service; NOT ONLY THAT, " He emphasised over the excited and furvoured whisperings, "Privately owned firearms are a go; you can use any firearm you own. You are no longer restricted to standard-issue equipment. That includes the infamous modified PCVs I know a lot of you have hidden away in your footlockers."
"Finally admitting defeat are you?" Fulwood laughed
"Well...." Moss sighed, "They do seem a little better than the standard PCVs... and yes we knew full well that they were no safety issues."
"I knew it! Delta Squad: One. Red Tape: Nil!" Fulwood cheered, his hands high in the air.
"Alright, alright. Settle down... Seriously. Any weapon that is safely modified, in good repair and above all SENSIBLE, that means no 'double-barrelled RPG's, Fulwood."
"Flamethrowers?" Tanner called out.
"And NO flamethrowers. Seriously. We will still be approving the weapons, all I'm saying is that most of the old restrictions, bar common-sense, are now void. Alright?"
"And on that bomb-shell, no pun intended," Mitchell interjected "I suggest you all arm up. I'm sure I speak for most of you when I say I'm looking forward to seeing everyone's private stashes of guns! Not had a good old custom weapons show-and-tell since my Marine days. Dismissed."
The lobby filled with soldiers as they left the briefing room excitedly to dig out their own weapons for the upcoming mission. Mal went to his locker, jostling to get in between the others, a lot of whom had emptied them to remove rudimentary "Secret stashes" behind loose back panels or in nondescript boxes. Leaning against the back panel of his locker was his G22. "Not you today I'm afraid..." he muttered to himself, taking the entire back of his locker away from the wall, revealing a metal box in a crudely carved cavity in the wall behind. He opened it up, within was a Beretta 93R. "Excellent.." he grinned. He looked around the room. Everyone was excitedly showing their friends what they had hidden; a large array of niche weapons, from the egomaniacs with their Desert Eagles and Uzi 9mms to the patriotic, showing off their SA-80's and M16A4's (some complete with M203 grenade launchers and NV scopes). Leaving the guys to show off their exotic hardware, Mal returned to the lobby and joined the queue to trade in his AK.
"Next." Jacobs called. Mal walked up to the counter. "Ah! Our glorious second in command? Hail!" he chuckled jokingly. "No need to check yours. I have more confidence in you than that joker Fulwood. Can you believe it?" He asked, turning to lift up a flamethrower from the table behind him. "He actually thought he could take this with him."
"No double-barrelled RPG?" Mal asked, mock-surprised, "I'm disappointed..."
"Double barrelled?" Jacobs chuckled, putting the flamethrower back. "You're not referring to that Duct-tape-and-strings job are you? Confiscated that soon as I heard about it. That was about three years ago. Had the cheek to ask for it back too." Jacobs rolled his eyes. "What have you got? Ah! Now that's a more sensible choice... not by much, but I'll let it fly."
"Yeah, well. Been saving it, and I guess this is as good a time as any." Mal replied, handing across his standard-issue P226.
"Well no point 'saving' it any longer. There's a war upon us!" Jacobs waved his arms melodramatically, despite his tone remaining flat and neutral. "Woooooo!....yeah, I've been up for two days... Red Bull and Pro Plus will only get you so far... Good luck out there. Next!"
Mal holstered his Beretta and walked over to Arabella, who was sat playing with Tom. "Well," Mal smiled, watching Tom intently staring at Arabella's finger as she moved it about, periodically he would make an attempt to pounce. "He may be one of the smarter ones, but it doesn't look like he's above a good game or two."
> Arabella grinned at Mal, "nah he's a great stress reliever and he seems to enjoy it. Some of the guys in there seemed to be extremely glad to be able to replace their standard-issue weapons. Has there been any extreme examples handed in?" Arabella looked worried briefly, "I heard rumours of a double barrelled RPG."
> Malcom laughed, "Yeah, you heard right. I'm surprised that guy's allowed to serve here, given his private armoury. Tried to take a flamethrower out with him, would you believe..."
> Arabella snorted with laughter, " a flamethrower, that is unbelievable. How would you keep something like that hidden?"
> "Usually a two-man job." Mal laughed, sitting on the floor on the other side of Tom from Arabella. Tom sat up and rubbed his head against Mal. "Am I now your property?" Mal sighed playfully.
> Arabella sat there watching Tom playing with Mal for a few minutes before leaning over to stroke Tom and ask Mal "Have you had much experience with cats, Mal?"
> "A little." Mal pulled himself up. He scooped up Tom and sat down next to Arabella on the seat. "My best friend in High School used to have two of them. They weren't overly keen on me, though." He smiled, as Tom curled up.
> "That seems surprising, you seem to have a natural affinity with Tom." Arabella shuffled closer to Mal to pet Tom. "What sort of cats where they?"
> "Oh, just black cats..." Mal smiled, "Kinda creepy actually." He let out a nervous laugh, looking into her eyes.
> Arabella looked back into Mal's eyes and let her guard down a bit so that her features seemed to soften as she smiled towards Mal.
> Mal slowly inched closer to Arabella, if I don't do this now, it may be too late , but before he could act, Cpl. Masterson jogged up to them. "Miss Peyeman?". A flash of silent frustration flashed across Mal's face. "We've had some communications from your associates that require your attention."
> A flash of annoyance crossed Arabella's face, then she settled her disposition before turning towards Cpl. Masterson. "I shall be there right away." She then turned to Mal with a hint of sadness "I'll catch up with you later" and then she walked off towards the Comms room behind Masterson. Argghh! So close yet so far.
> Mal sat back, cursing to himself, Couldn't he have come five minutes later?, as he watched Arabella follow Cpl. Masterson to the Comms room. Tom leapt down off his lap and padded after Arabella. Oh well. Suppose I should be concentrating on other things.... He took out the box Jacobs had given him and opened it up. There was a rifle scope contained within. Time to fit this sucker and do some serous damage...

RP Conversation
Involving: 2Lt. Malcom Connor (Deimenried) and Dr. Robert Kessal (LorgarForneus)
Drafted: 9th Oct 2008 via IM

>After settling the Dreadnought in one of the corners of the base to recharge, and with many a stare from the ECRU guys, Flynn decided to explore the base. Coming across the armoury, he saw Malc sat with a woman he didn't recognise and, oddly enough, a cat. The woman was called away by the communications officer, and Flynn walked over.
>Mal looked up as he finished attaching the scope to his AK-108 to see Flynn walking over.
"Hey, man!" Malcom called over, "Good to see you. I guess those boys in the Anomalous Material Labs have a lot to answer for, huh?"
>Flynn laughed "Yeah man, though I found out it was that sample that the suit was trying to dissuade them from using that caused this mess. Nice to see you survived the carnage though dude!" He looked around the armoury, making a mental checklist. "Can only soldiers get weapons from in here?"
>"I'm sure I could "liberate" one for you, if that's what you mean." Mal chuckled.
>Flynn grinned back "All these automatic weapons have given me ideas for sentient defense turrets. Anyway, where have you been man? You disappeared after we got back here from blasting those soldier bastards to hell."
>"Briefing." Mal sighed, "New plan of action. Mostly involving kicking some ***, instead of hiding here, backs against the wall. The more I think about it, the more we're becoming like the HECU, and that's the most troubling thing... these situations change people... and not always for the better. Moss and Mitchell have been debating more than normal, we've ditched half our guidelines..." Mal trailed off "Can't shake this horrible gut feeling that things aren't going to work out the way we intend them... Anyway, sorry. Sentient turrets, you say? Now THAT would be awesome..."
>Flynn looked worried. "Dude, I see your point. If I can help, I will. And yeah, sentient turrets! Same software as the Dread." he stuck his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the robotic hulk in the corner. "Oh yeah, I see you got yourself a bird!" Flynn grinned.
>Mal managed an awkward smile, "Yeah, at least I think so... Not sure if she feels the same way though. Her cat seems to like me though," he chuckled, "And that's got to count for something."
>Flynn smiled "Don't worry man, you'll get your chance. You never know, it may be up to you two to repopulate the earth!" He let out a laugh. "So, what's the plan of action?"
>Malcom took a deep breath, "Mainly targetting weak positions of both the aliens and the HECU. Using their conflict as a tactical advantage. It seems that the aliens are actually invading us, rather than just randomly teleporting around the place." Mal paused as he looked around at the other soldiers forming their groups and kitting up. "The rest are doing what we were doing; finding as many survivors in this hell-hole as possible and bringing them here. Admittedly it will be easier with us occupying most of the enemy forces."
>Flynn nodded "Good idea. I can send the Dread out with some of the squads if you wish, help intimidate the enemy a bit!" He smiled, then shook his head. "If only I still had the stuff at my lab, I could have made more to accompany you..." He blinked out of his reverie, and looked back at Malc. "I also hear you're having problems with a vort downstairs. They're the gangly fellows with the big eyes, aren't they?"
>"Huh." Mal exclaimed, suprised. "Not as secret as I had thought. Not so much problems as in violence, more problems as in talking to it. Linguists are trying to decipher what the hell it is saying. Not sure which approach they are going for. Knowing them, they'll sooner teach it English than try and learn its language..."
>Flynn grinned "You know how word gets around, man. Besides, I figured something was going on." He scratched his beard in thought. "Hmmm... problems communicating, eh? I could try reprogramme the communications droid software. Do we have a computer and a microphone down there?"
>"I can probably scavenge something..." Mal paused as he reached for his radio. "Control, this is Connor. Do we have any free rooms, tools and spare comms equipment? Over."
There was a short pause before he got a reply. "One of the offices on the way to the firing range was emptied three weeks ago. Has plenty of space and computer terminal access. I'll have someone bring the tools, and any spare equipment we have directly, over."
"Roger that control. Let me know when it's all ready. Connor out." Mal returned the radio to it's holder, turning to Flynn, "How about an improvised field lab?" He laughed.
>Flynn laughed "Fantastic man! I can work on the translation software, and get to work building some more bullet-proof troops for you guys. If you want some, that is. I wouldn't be surprised if you hated technology now!"
> "Technology doesn't bother me." Mal laughed, "Especially if it helps me kill things." He reached for his radio again. "Mitchell. This is Connor. Is it possible to assign some personnel to the engineering sectors to retrieve some materials? Over."
"Uhh, I suppose we could spare a few. What do you intend to do? Over." Mitchell replied
"Dr. Kessal might be able to build more Dreadnoughts. It's certainly worth looking into. Over."
"Dreadnoughts?!" Mitchell replied, "More? You have a green light on that, Mal. Assign as many as Dr. Kessal needs. Keep me posted. Mitchell Out."
Mal turned to Flynn. "How about that? I suggest you take the dreadnought with you. Let me know if you need anything; troops, supplies, weapons. We really could use more of those Dreadnoughts, and we're more than prepared to help you make them!"
"Lt Connor?" A voice chipped in. "The office is ready. Also we've assigned two of the engineers who survived to help with anything else."
"Well, Flynn." Mal smiled, "All yours."
"This way, sir." Cpl. Shaw beckoned Flynn to follow.
>Flynn smiled "Cheers man, I'll get you some sorted!" As he walked away towards the empty office he'd been designated, he called over his shoulder "And tell me if ye find any uranium!"