Rigging the door with explosives, Bill twisted the wires together and picked up his pistol. Shooting the vent opening just as a tiny leg was attempting to poke through, he noticed something bleeding out through it. "Damn things are everywhere." Reloading, he tucked his pistol into his belt and tucked the wires behind the explosives. Hearing something loud, like an electrical discharge behind him, he quickly grabbed the shotgun from his feet and spun around. Levelling it in the direction of the Vortigaunt, opening fire. The green lightning just missed his head as the Vortigaunt dropped to the ground.

Laughing aloud, he turned to the side and looked out the window, when he saw the man adjusting his ridiculous tie. His face incredibly pale, time seemed to slow to a crawl as the figure had a wide smile on his face as Bill found he couldn't move. The man turned and walk away as Bill wondered why the man was even there. Remembering the explosives, Bill turned his head to check the doorknob trigger, and saw the lightning frozen in place across the door. Time seemed to be returning to normal, as Bill's throat tightened. Realizing the Vortigaunt wasn't aiming at him at all, his face turned to one of shock and horror as all 20 of the bombs wired to the one trigger began to explode... Bill went from frozen in place to burnt to a crisp.

RP Conversation
Involving: 2Lt. Malcom Connor (Deimenried) and Lt. Jack Sparks (MyNameDidntFit)
Drafted: 2md Dec 2008 via IM

> Within 5 minutes Jack found himself running down a corridor towards SSgt. Daniels.
"Welcome, Jack; he's in there with his girlfriend, a stiff and my boys." Daniels indicated the door with his thumb.
"Girlfriend?" Jack's mind skipped to the girl that had been with Malcom previously.
"Just some E.C.R.U. *****."
"Damn. I was hoping it might've been someone else." With that Sparks made his way into the room where Malcom was sat against the far wall, his hands and feet lashed together.
Jack moved to stand over Malcom and looked down at him, "Being shot hurts like **** doesn't it?"
Jack waited for a reply but Malcom didn't respond in the least. Crouching beside him Jack looked into his face; his eyes were closed and his lips were moving ever so slightly, it seemed as if he was muttering something barely audible.
After a second of weighing the risks Sparks lent in so that his ear was almost pressed against Malc's mouth.
"...why is he here...who is the suit...why is he here...who is the suit..."
Jack stood upright almost instantly and looked to the marines, "Out. Now."
They seemed to hesitate and Jack moved towards them, "I said get out!"
As his voice echoed in the room Jack grabbed the woman soldier and pulled her to her feet before pushing her out the door after the soldiers and closing the door, jamming a table under the handle so that the damaged hinges would stay closed.

Finally he crouched beside Malcom once more and shook him gently at first but slowly shaking harder until Malcom's eyes shot open and stared into Jack's own.
"Listen, Malcom... We have a mutual interest..."
> Mal's eyes opened abruptly, as if he were woken from dozing. He managed to control his erratic breathing enough to speak. "What could you and I-" Mal paused as he choked, "Possibly... have in common?"
> Jack kept a straight face and replied; "Not what, Malcom, but who."
> Through his pain, Mal looked somewhat confused, "Alright..." he wheezed, "You've lost me... Who?"
> Jack slowly shook his head, "God damn you're either an idiot or fucking arrogant," Sparks rubbed the back of his head where his mask's strap crossed it, his mind slipping into an almost trancelike state as it turned back to Iraq, "Think about it. Iraq. You saw them get taken away, you wondered why, oh how you wondered, but the only connection was a lone man. And now you've seen him here, haven't you?"
> "I thought he was here with you..." Mal half-muttered, "After all he didn't show up until before.... before the 'incident'..." Mal paused briefly, "And everyone he was involved with... everyone he protected ended up in the damn H.E.C.U. ..."
> "He... I don't know. He watched us during training. He was everywhere at Santego during the lead-up to this..." Jack took off his mask completely and sat cross-legged, "****. I... I think he might be responsible for this whole shitstorm. Why else would he get us geared up for exactly this operation?" Sparks' question was more to himself than Malcom, "Listen, I know you probably hate me and I sure as hell don't like you but I need your help... First I need to know if I can trust that you aren't going to shoot me first chance you get, can I do that?"
> Mal closed his eyes for a moment. He thought back to the last firefight... to what Muller had said. She was right, enough blood had been spilt in the name of... Mal's thought train stopped dead. Suddenly it hit him. What are we fighting for here? Is there even a reason? "Alright." He managed, "If I can be assured of the same thing."
> Jack nodded, "Of course. Here, take this until we can get you something better," Sparks took his M9 from its holster and placed it on the ground between him and Malcom, "Alright. What I want to do is find this suit and beat some answers out of the fucker... But first, I have to get you out of here alive without anyone getting suspicious," he paused in thought for a moment, "That girl that was with you, the one with the crossbow, can she be trusted?"
> Mal winced as he slowly got to his feet. He shrugged, picking up the Beretta "Can't really say... Only known her since this morning." He let out a dry laugh, turning more into a coughing fit. "She seems a bit... unpredictable."
> "Unpredictable is a new Private that just watched his mate be torn to pieces by an IED. This girl can't be worse than that so I'll take the risk," Jack paused for a second as he got to his feet and put on his mask, "Here's my skeletal plan; you lie down, I fire a shot into that wall over there, you stay still and look dead, I walk out of here, dribble some **** and the moment it's clear you make for your HQ, my boys should be well and truly out of there and getting up the **** of your boys by now so it should be clear. I'll come find you. OK?"
> "Alright..." Mal nodded. "Just be quick... I ain't getting any younger here." Slowly he lowered himself to his knees, then to his side. The pain had somewhat subsided, providing he didn't move too much. "OK. I'm ready."
> Jack walked to the door and shifted the table before taking the handle in one hand and using his other to fire a round into the far wall above Malcom. With a nod he walked out into the corridor, "Fucker wouldn't tell me what I wanted to know. C'mon. I've got a man that might need some help nearby." he ushered the soldiers away from the storage room as he stood beside the woman who was propped against the wall, "Women with guns? It was never going to work," and with a nod he placed a bullet through her forehead before jogging after the others.
> Jack's shot rang out in the confines of the small storage room. Mal had half-expected it to hit him... A second shot rang out. He didn't know who what was meant for, but lay still, waiting for the soldier's footsteps to fade away into the distance.

2Lt. Malcom Connor

Silence returned as Jack and his squad moved on, leaving Mal alone with nothing but a Beretta and a promise he wasn't sure he could keep. Slowly he got up, trying to make sense of it all. It was turning out to be a very long day indeed and the end was nowhere in sight. He approached the door, Beretta in hand, and checked the corridor. It was just as Jack had said; the Marines were long gone. All that was left was the putrid stench of death. His list of allies grew shorter by the minute, and by now the cause was surely lost. Isolated pockets of resistance were still present, but lacked unification. Echo was the only squad unaware of the slaughter below as they held the surface access; a gift and a curse. They were spared the horror, but at the same time had no idea that should they run into trouble, nobody would come to assist them. The rogue squads were another matter entirely. From most accounts prior to the HQ attack, they were doing just fine. After all, they had looted the best equipment from the emergency caches ensuring their own survival at the cost of their bretheren who followed orders and returned as instructed.

It felt like an eternity as Mal slowly made his way down the corridors towards the headquarters. Every corridor he walked down was littered with bodies from both sides, names and faces were all that was left to tell of their existence. A thousand futures silenced; brutally but short, never to reach their destiny. It felt like the War all over again; everyone he knew - everyone he cared about were being cut down all around him. Relationships he had spent years forging had been taken away in the blink of an eye. "You'd better be going somewhere with this, Sparks..." Mal muttered to himself, "Or you'll be joining these guys, and something tells me you won't get a very warm reception on the other side." Mal checked the bodies as he went, checking to determine Moss or Mitchell's fate. At least finding weapons wasn't an issue. He had taken Muller's SCAR-L and supplies. Although saddened by her death, he felt reassured that she wouldn't have to suffer another moment without Locke. Hardly a storybook romance... he had thought to himself. He advanced further down the corrdior.
"Alright." A voice said out of nowhere, almost making Mal jump out of his skin. "That's far enough, Marine." There was a short pause before the voice changed tone completely. "You don't look like a marine..." Mal heard footsteps as the unknown man circled around the front of him, keeping his rifle trained on Mal. "No way...." The soldier lowered his rifle, revealing his face. It was Moss. "Thank God..." he sighed in relief, "I never thought I'd see another ECRU soldier alive down here. It's like a fucking slaughter-house here." Mal lowered his hands.
"What happened to you?" Mal asked, "I saw Muller and Locke, but they said you'd gone missing when you charged the HQ."
Moss sighed, shouldering his G3, "I got a little too far ahead. We got separated when a squad of marines flanked them... it wasn't exactly much better INSIDE the HQ. They didn't stand a chance..."
Mal almost hesitated to ask, "Mitchell?"
Moss shook his head. "Didn't see him. Or Arabella for that matter. But they're smart; they'll have figured something out."
Mal made an advance down the corridor, "We should really get back there. See if anyone's alive."
"The odds of that ar-"
"Yes, yes." Mal interrupted. "Infitecimally small, I know. But there's still a possibility, and that makes it worth looking. Besides, the marines will be long gone by now. Their orders were to kill us, not take territory."
Reluctantly, Moss nodded and followed Mal. "It took sheer luck to get out of there alive, I only hope it's worth going back..."

They had barely made it a few hundred metres before the inevitable.
"****." Mal indicated Moss to stop as they approached the corner of the corrdior. He peered round. The corridor ahead was littered with corpses, but the posessed humans had infested the place, feeding on the remains of the soldiers.
"What is it?" Moss whispered.
"Posessed humans - a lot of them... uh... about two dozen."
"Jeeze... Like flies to a rotting carcass." Moss replied, putting his G3 onto single fire.
"Aim for the head. Ready?" Mal whispered.
"Ready."
"Go!" Mal swung out from round the corner and opened fire. Single shots to the head using the scope. Moss did likewise and the corridor was suddenly awash with yellow blood as twisted screams echoed around them. The lumbering creatures were not prepared for such a precision attack and were gunned down quickly leaving only a handfull of headcrabs remaining, which in turn were quickly dealt with. "Thank **** they go down easy..." Mal muttered reloading his SCAR-L.

Carefully they approached the HQ, making sure that no marines were hiding.
"Hey, you OK?" Moss asked as Mal stopped to apply meds from Muller's supplies.
"I'll be fine..." He replied wincing as he injected himself with a painkiller/antibiotics shot. "I've felt much worse, believe me." He put the supplies over his back and picked up his SCAR-L again. "Let's go." They steadily advanced to the HQ....

Ahead they saw the doors to the HQ lobby. Inside there was still activity, although none of them looked particularly healthy.
"Well I'll be damned..." Mal muttered looking through his scope. "They're all ECRU!"
"How in hell did they survive?!" Moss exclaimed.
"Beats me! Jacobs... Masterson... Mitchell... they're all in there!" Mal replied standing up and heading to the HQ. Moss didn't hesitate and followed Mal, eager and cautious at the same time.

INVENTORY UPDATED:
Added:
> Beretta M9
> FN SCAR-L
>> 2 Extra STANAG 30 rd. 5.56mm magazines
> Medic Supplies

Removed:
> Beretta 93R
> AK-108
> Steyr Elite

RP Conversation
Involving: Cpl. Isaac Lewis/PFC Kris Rogen (MyNameDidntFit) and Dr. Robert Kessal (LorgarForneus)
Drafted: Dec 2008 via PM

> Hearing the commotion coming from the base, Flynn turned to the Dreadnought. "Scout ahead, and be careful, remember your armour is weakened." The Dread rumbled forward into the base, Flynn following behind.
> "How long do you think we'll be waiting here?" Rogen impatiently mutters to Lewis as they stand opposite each other in a corridor somewhere between the H.Q. and storage warehouses.
"Dunno, shouldn't be l-" Lewis cut his sentence short and looked down the corridor, "You hear that?"
"Sounds... Almost... Like an engine?"
"Too quiet to be anything of size... Let's move up."
Lewis and Rogen moved silently towards the bend in the corridor before flattening themselves against the wall where the sweeping bend began as the quiet droning grew louder.
> The Dreadnought edged forwards, scanning it's surroundings. The corridor was filled with corpses. Flynn shook his head, recognising a few of them. Noticing the bend ahead, Flynn flattened himself against the wall, as the Dread made a primary sweep around it.
> As the droning came within only a few meters Rogen sidestepped into the corridor ready to fire. The moment he stepped out he saw the same robot that had killed SSgt. Frett back in their doomed assault on the E.C.R.U., a sudden flicker of panic hit him and he stepped back acgainst the wall just as a blast of energy flew through the air where he had been standing.
"****. It's that robot. Get your boomsticks ready damnit Isaac!" Rogen shouldered his rifle once more, "I'll see if I can't delay the fucker."
As Lewis dug through his pouches assembling something Rogen rolled into the corridor before standing and sidestepping back the way he had come, firing a shot into the head of the robot and sidestepping in each direction once more then firing a second round and rolling back to cover; all the while beams of energy flew around him.
Bearthing heavily Kris looked at Lewis, "Good thing I'm brilliant at fire evasion."
Lewis furrowed his brow in concentration for a further second before looking up, "Whatever. You're lucky I can make great explosives."
Rogen laughed as Lewis attached the package to the wall and twisted a nob on it activating a dim blue beam that crossed the corridor.
"Now fucking run!"
With that the two began sprinting back along the corridor, waiting and hoping for the explosion.
> Flynn saw the Dread firing, and the tripmine it was about to roll through.
"Move back! Move back!" he yelled, but the Dread didn't react fast enough. As it rumbled through the trigger, the tripmine detonated at close range to it's tracks. The explosion ripped the tracks off the Dread, and it's mobility unit caved in. Then Flynn heard a high-pitched whine.
"Oh ****!" He ran back round the corner and took cover as the whining got louder, the Dread's power reactor overloading.
> Lewis slid to a stop and spun 180 degrees just in time to see the robot's weaponry glowing ready to fire only a millisecond before it's tracks hit the beam of light from his mine and the explosion tore it's tracks off and caused part of it to collapse.
With an ecstatic cry Lewis jumped in the air, "BOOM!"
His celebrations were cut short as Rogen grabbed him by the shoulder, "You hear that whining? I think we better keep fucking running."
Disappointment at his victory being cut short washed over Lewis' face as he turned to sprint away with Rogen back the way they came.
"At least the bastards haven't got any more giant death machines now, eh Kris?" Lewis smiled as they ran.
"Dude, you know you just jinxed that, right?"
"Bah, **** off I did!" Lewis replied with a laugh as they rounded yet another corner, the whine growing still louder behind them.
>As the whining reached it's highest pitch, Flynn braced himself behind his makeshift cover. The Dreadnought's reactor erupted, destroying it from within. Most of the destructive force was contained within the armour, but panels flew in all directions, embedding themselves in nearby walls, ceilings and corpses. Flynn's PDA beeped as the Dread's AI transferred via network back to it.
"****, that's just what I need." Flynn sighed and assessed the situation. I need to find Malc and Mitchell. Moving from cover slowly, he unsheathed his katana, holding his pistol in his other hand, heading round the corner the Dread was firing at.

RP Conversation
Involving: 2Lt. Malcom Connor (Deimenried) and Arabella Peyeman (TeePee)
Drafted: 10th Dec 2008 via IM

> Mal and Moss entered the ECRU lobby. The room was full of wounded, presumably removed from their hiding places during the raid. The room was darker than usual, damaged fluorescent tubes struggling to stay on. They began their search for any familiar faces, and any idea of what they could possibly do next.
>Arabella came down into the lobby from the Comms Room and just froze when she saw in front of her the very man she had gone out to look for. "Mal...is that really you?" Arabella looked like she had just seen a ghost. "Dear God what happened to you?" She asked when she noticed his wounds and blood all over him.
>Mal flashed a weak smile "It's been a rough day..." He looked around at the remnants of the ECRU. "What the hell happened here?"
>"HECU is what happened here. They somehow got in and just wiped most of us out." Arabella paused sadly for a moment. "I know someone who will be glad to see you though. I'm now on my way to see Mitchell with some good news finally."
>"He's still alive?" Moss exclaimed.
Mal nodded "That's the best news I've heard in a long time... well, it's the only good news we've had in a long time."
> "He is indeed still alive. I was just on my way to tell him about the reinforcements I have managed to procure. I've managed to persuade some SAS squads to lend us a helping hand." Arabella said as she motioned to Moss and Mal to follow her through to where Mitchell was going over the lists of casualties and losses.
> Mitchell looked over the lists, shaking his head. "Not even enough to hold the sector..." He looked round to see the new arrivals. "Son of a *****..."
Mal leaned over to Moss, "I think he means you..." he said jokingly. Before Moss could retort, Mitchell continued.
"There's just no getting rid of you two is there?" Mitchell smiled.
"You know me.." Mal began, "The job's not yet done, so I'm still here."
"I guess, damn." Mitchell turned to Arabella. "Everyone knows the plan. We need another hour to fix up the wounded before we make for the surface. Any word from our reinforcements?"
>"They're going to be here in around two hours. They'll radio to let us know when they are in the area." Arabella turned to Mal "Talking of wounded, what the hell happened to your nose?"
>"Sparkles had a hissy fit." Mal shrugged "Guess I must of implied he was gaining weight or something, I don't know."
>Arabella grinned at Mal before having a small fit of the giggles, after this had passed she said, "I would have loved to have seen that."
>Mal smiled, "I suppose I could get Moss to tell Sparkles that he's flat-chested. That ought to start some hair-pulling."
"If we're quite finished?" Moss replied. "I think we need to know the plan, sir."
Mitchell nodded "Right. Well, we've lost pretty much all ground squads aside from Bravo and Echo. Echo are holding the surface access as instructed, hopefully to be reinforced. Bravo has been diverted to assist here in transporting those too injured to move. We're going to make for the surface access and make for the evac point. Our British friends are sending over some Chinooks to get us out of here." Mitchell paused. "I only hope we can make it without drawing too much attention."
"Where's the evac site?" Mal asked.
"The northern warehouses are relatively low in activity, and have more than enough room for our evac to land without incident."
>"Oh! before I forget, Mal I found something of yours that you may find useful." Arabella hands over Mal's AK. "I believe that it is in one piece with the scope still attached."
>"I was starting to think the HECU had stolen everything... They seem to have sticky fingers when it comes to firearms." Mal checked the rifle over. "Not surprising really. I suppose anything beats using an MP5K..."
>"Mitchell, is there anything you want us to do before the choppers arrive? I'm prepared to scout out the northern warehouses to check for any recent activity HECU or otherwise."
>Mitchell nodded "Sounds like a good idea. Mal, you go with her. Two pairs of eyes are better than one, and I want you to get that damn Elite back! The requisition forms for that were hell, and I don't like the idea of some marine chump carrying that around. Probably wouldn't know how it works, just likes it because it's big and shiny. If I don't hear from you within the hour we'll check in before we move out. Oh. And Arabella; try to keep him in one piece this time!"
>With a grin on her face she replied "Yes Sir, I'll keep an eye on him too as well as an eye out for your Elite." Then she became more serious, " Mal do you need any thing like supplies etc.? If not we can head out to the warehouses straight away."
>"A few mags and medical supplies would be nice. I'll see if Jacobs has anything left. I'll meet you at the entrance." Mal left the room and made for the armoury. At the window of the Quartermaster's office, Jacobs was busy tinkering with an MP5K. "Having fun?" Mal asked, nearly making Jacobs jump.
"Oh so much fun." He replied sarcastically. "Ah, got your 'K back? Here." He reached under the counter and produced four AK mags. "Thoughtful of me, huh?"
"Very." Mal nodded "Any medical supplies?"
"Nope." Jacobs replied. "All out, I'm afraid. Well, out of spares. We're using the last of it to get the others into some kind of condition to make it wherever we're running to. Don't have too much fun out there!" With that, Jacobs returned to his labours. Mal left the armoury and met up with Arabella at the entrance.
"All set?"
>Arabella looked over the P90, PPK/S, her sniper rifle and knife, "Yeah I would say that I'm ready. Let's have some fun."

Dr Robert "Flynn" Kessal

Flynn progressed slowly, hiding behind cover, just in case the HECU guys who took out the Dread came back. I'm not ready for them just yet he thought to himself, as he made his way to where his makeshift lab was located.

He could see the lab entrance up the corridor. The door had collapsed in on itself. Bloody explosion-happy bastards! He continued around and down to the prison cells, figuring that the ECRU would have taken shelter down there. Halfway down the stairs, however, the roof started to collapse.
"Oh for ****'s sake!" Flynn ran down into the cells, forsaking cover, but didn't manage to get out of the rubble's path. It knocked him down, and he looked about, everything slowly fading to a murky black.

When he came to, he was surprised to find himself inside one of the cells, the door covered in scorch marks. The HECU guys must have wanted something in here REALLY badly. Then he froze. The scorch marks had been made from inside the cell. He looked over, and found the Vort stood over him. Just fucking great, now it's going to kill me for putting through this ****! Flynn laid back, and sighed, resigned to his probable fate.

RP Conversation
Involving: 2Lt. Malcom Connor (Deimenried), Arabella Peyeman (TeePee) and Lt. Jack Sparks (MyNameDidntFit)
Drafted: 11th Dec 2008 via IM

> Mal and Arabella began their scout patrol, heading north through the old Security Commons toward the rail systems. For the most part the corridors were clear. Occasionally a group of corpses would be scattered; the last remnants of a futile retreat. It was then that they happened upon a curious mark of destruction; what appeared to be the remains of an office, its walls destroyed leaving a twisted doorframe amidst the rubble as the only sign of its existence.
"Looks like the marines have been having fun..." Mal sighed, looking about the pile of scorched concrete chunks.
"Jeeze... I hope nobody was in there!" Arabella exclaimed.
"Where's Sparkles when you really need him?" Mal muttered, "I would really like to know why they did that..."
> The corridors had been clear of the living ever since Jack had left SSgt. Daniel and his men; who had let him wander with surprisingly few questions. But as he made his way from near the old rail system and into the security commons he heard a familiar voice, followed by a second familiar voice.
'I bet he hasn't told her ****... Ah the ***** is gonna try to shoot me again...'
Sparks sigh, resigned to his fate of being shot at, and most likely hit, with another crossbow bolt and jogged up to the corner that would lead him to the voices just as Malcom finished a sentence;
"...really like to know why they did that..."
Jack raised an eyebrow and took his chances, stepping out around the corner;
"Why who did what, Malc?" he questioned with his hands held out from his sides.
>Here we go... Mal thought, awaiting the inevitable....
"You!" Arabella shouted, marching straight over to Sparks, levelling her P90 to his head. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you where you stand!"
>Jack smiled to himself, "Reason number one; look down."
The woman's eyes remained still on his face.
"Alright," Sparks began, extending the vowels of the word, "Seeing as you won't look; I'm holding a handgun pointed up at your face."
A flash of shock went over the woman's face and she glanced down, seeing nothing but not being able to respond before Jack tore the P90 from her grip and threw it away behind him.
"Because I'm not your enemy."
>"Have we quite finished with the formalities?" Mal sighed, still staring at the ruined office, arms folded. Arabella glared at Sparks, before moving to pick up her P90.
"Am I missing something here?" she asked, seeing that Mal hadn't even brought either of his guns to hand.
>Jack turned to follow the woman with his eyes, "Yeah, Malcom and I have an... Old acquaintance that has shown up here..." looking back to Malco he continued, "Hell, she's your girlfriend, you tell her."
>"Tell her what? A guy with no name and a vague description is here?" Mal shrugged, "You should know him better than me, after all, he showed up with your lot..."
> Forrowing his brow Jack responed, "You've got a point, actually... All I know is that he's soome suit and he sure as hell knew about this **** that's happening long before it happened. ****. I mean, he made our commanders put us through training worse than hell to prepare for a hypothetical situations so fucking close to this it sends a chill down my spine... I don't know. But he's involved. And Malcom is the only other person I know who wants the fucker's head besides me... That makes him my ally."
> Arabella thought for a moment. "You mean the agent nobody is sure who he works for?" She paused briefly, "I've only ever heard of him in reports from other operatives..."
"That's the one..." Mal nodded, "The one with the inverse Midas-touch.... everything he touches turns to ****..."
> "That's one way of putting it, I guess," Jack noticed the destroyed office and gazed at it quizzically for a moment before shaking his head, "Something tells me this isn't '****' to him. I could all but guarantee you this is exactly what he wanted... To what ends... Now that is a fucking riddle for you."
> Mal turned to Arabella, arms still folded, "So basically in the interests of making sure he is held accountable for certain 'actions', we think it's time we paid him a little visit... Turn those riddles into straight facts..."
Arabella took a deep breath, "So I take it you two have a plan?"
>Jack looked to Malcom, who in turn looked to him, each baring a slightly confused look on their face, "Uh, well... Not re- Wait. Malcom... Do you remember any of the names of soldiers that the suit transferred to the H.E.C.U.? All the ones I remember are... Well, dead."
>"I could name a dozen..." Mal replied, returning his gaze to the ruined office. "One Corporal Shephard springs to mind... I seem to remember no end of **** being thrown at the rest of us to keep him alive..."
> "Shephard... Shephard..." Jack closed his eyes in thought before yelling in frustration, "****! He was on one of the downed Ospreys... Hang on." Jack paced the corridor as he put his radio to his mouth, "This is Lt. Sparks, I need a status on Cpl. Shephard. Over."
He continued pacing as he waited for a reply, a good few minutes passed before a call came in, "You're lucky, I hear he survied the Osprey crash and should, I repeat, should, be on the surface near Goose 7's crash site. Over."
"Roger. Out." Jack replaced the radio and stood still, staring at the roof muttering quietly to himself, "Goose 7... ****, uh, Goose 7... C'mon... Yes! That shouldn't be far from here... Unfortunately, the surface access is quiet contested... Ideas?"
> Mal thought for a moment. "The same reason it's too dangerous for us to go there should ensure that it would be too dangerous for him to stay up there. If he's survived, and I have no reason to believe otherwise with his 'connections', he won't be on the surface any more..." Arabella simply shrugged.
> Jack rubbed at his face for a moment, "Ugh. Um... No. He'll be up there. The first place he would go -Bear with me, I'm basing this on him being a decent marine- would be to the closest military radio... Which, I believe, we set up a comms post nearby where I think Goose 7 went down," Jack paused a moment, "No guarantees. I'm going off my knowledge of the insertion points and the patchy reports I have of the complete **** up that was our insertion."
> "It's worth a shot." Mal shrugged, "As long as we refrain from blowing things up, we should be able to make it there without too much attention."
"Any ideas where this radio might be located?" Arabella asked.
> "Fucked if I could tell you off the top of my head... But if we can get a decent reference point topsi-" Sparks was cut off as his radio burst to life with a message urging all H.E.C.U. to get their arses to the evac points, as soon as the message was over Jack looked to Malcom, "****. Um, nearest evac point... He'll be heading there... Should be a helipad not for from the surface exit that was to be used for evac... I think that's a good shot," Sparks grimaced slightly as he looked at the disbelief on Malcom's face, "Ah. Yeah. You guys aren't really friendlies... Well, it's this or we try another name from the hat?"
> "You don't happen to have any spare HECU uniforms do you?" Mal asked, "As long as we keep our mouths shut we won't attract attention..." Mal saw Arabella's questionning stare "What? Just a thought..."
> Jack smiled, "Well, if you don't mind wearing dead men's clothes..."
> Mal let out a dry laugh, "Well I'm practically a walking corpse as it is..."
Arabella shrugged, "Wouldn't be the first time I've done that..."
> Sparks let out a chuckle as he turned to, "Full of surprises, aren't you darl? What's your game, contract killer?" he laughed again, "It, uh..." Jack looked her up and down, "Might be hard to find something to match your... Physique."
> "Careful, Sparkles..." Mal raised an eyebrow. "The wrong choice of words or actions, unintentional or otherwise, would be most... regrettable." He paused, purely for effect. "I saw what happened to the last guy that looked at her the wrong way... his last words were muffled by the sound of his own severed tongue..."
"Oh don't worry about me..." Arabella replied, "I'll make my own way there. Stealth may be our saving grace should something go wrong..."
> Jack locked eyes with Malcom, "Call me that again and a nice sparkly bullet might find your face quite... Attractive," his face set like stone he turned to the woman, "Good to hear you'll be OK. Wouldn't want such a fine *** t- Ah, sorry, asset, to go to waste, would we?"
> "Bad choice of words, Janice." Mal looked Jack in the eye, "Let's be clear. The Old Man may be forgiving, hell even Anderson has his tender moments, but I don't take **** from no grunt. If I choose to call you Chesty Laroo you reply "Yes Sir." With that he started his search for a uniform with a good fit.
"Oh dear god..." Arabella sighed, "Anyone else taste the testosterone in the air?" She made her way to a comfy concealable condition closer to the evac point. "Just don't get yourselves shot. I'm not going to be there to bail you out if you decide to have at each other..."
>Sparks' eyes followed closely as the woman left before he turned back to Malcom, "Grunt? Mate, check your rank pin. Check mine. Now, if you want me dead, get the **** in line. You ain't the first." Jack paused a moment, eyes still locked with Malcom's, "Now, while you go clothes shopping I'm going to see if I can't find a lighter for this fucking cigarette."
>"Pins earned through murder don't count, Sparkles..." Mal retorted before disappearing into a side corrdior to find some corpses.

Dr Robert "Flynn" Kessal

The Vortigaunt looked at Flynn, and stepped back. A confused look on his face, Flynn sat up, groaning. He had bruises all over from the rubble, but nothing more serious. As he turned around, more of the Vortigaunts stepped out of the shadows. None of them were wearing the slave-collars they had seen on most Vorts, and looked identical to the subject who had been placed in the cell. Flynn slowly got up, holding his empty hands up, to show he was unarmed.
“I’m not here to hurt you. Er… sorry about all this.” The Vorts started to warble at each other, and then all turned to Flynn. They all moved towards him. Oh ****, I’m boned! he thought, as the Vorts held up their hands. Then he felt strange.

As purple energy shot from the Vortigaunt brood’s hands, he could feel his mind expanding. Seeing glimpses of life on other planets he’d never been to, watched as the Vortigaunts were taken as slaves by their Overlords. He watched as this group escaped on Earth, managing to free themselves from the shackles of oppression. As the purple light faded, one image remained in his head. He was shaken from his reverie, however, as one of the Vortigaunts turned to speak to him.
“We greet you, man of Terran science.” Flynn’s mouth practically dropped open.
“You can talk English now? How?”
“We shared our mind-space with yourself. As you saw our experiences, we saw yours. We learned your language, saw what happened to this place.” The Vort gestured around him.
“Now, man of Terran science, we see we can trust you. Follow in our footsteps.” With that, the group of Vorts turned and started to head towards the rear of the cell chambers, to where there was a hole in the wall. They headed through. Shrugging, and checking his PDA with the Dreadnought’s mind imprint was still intact, he set off after his unlikely allies, the last image left in his head. The mysterious suited man.

Arabella Peyeman

Arabella crept down a corridor and the sounds of Sparks and Mal arguing faded from her hearing. "What I really want is a ventilation shaft that will take me up to the surface," Arabella thought to herself. While she was musing upon this matter she heard a faint meow that was further down the corridor. After a few steps she could hear louder meowing but bizarrely it sounded like it was coming from above her in the ceiling. "Hmm either there is another cat in this facility or that is Tom. Either way I think I need to get into the ceilings"

Luckily for Arabella there was a door into an office to her right for her to find a way through the ceiling tiles that would not be conspicuous. Inside the office there was a desk and chair with a filing cabinet and a pot plant that looked like it had been lovingly tended for until the owner's disappearance or demise. Looking up towards the ceiling Arabella found a half hidden entrance to a ventilation shaft behind the filing cabinet. The meowing had got louder and was interspersed with hissing and other sounds of fighting.

Arabella pushed the filing cabinet aside so that she could, while standing on the office chair, pull off the cover with her knife. By the time she could see down the ventilation shaft there was no sounds coming down the shaft. She pulled out her flashlight and looked down it; all she could see was a contented Tom and the remains around his claws of an extremely dead headcrab. "Tom, you are still alive" Arabella said with a hint of shock. Tom padded over to Arabella and rubbed his head against her shoulder before seemingly answering with a meow.

"This ventilation shaft is probably as good as any to get up to the surface, wouldn't you agree Tom?" Tom looked up at her and meowed. "I'll take that as a yes" Arabella said smiling. She pulled herself into the shaft and found that there was a surprising amount of room for her to be able to comfortably crawl through. Tom pushed past Arabella and led the way through the shaft, as he pushed past Arabella pulled out her knife in case another headcrab should appear.

After several minutes Arabella came to a sharp turn in the shaft, Tom had taken up a defensive position and looked ready to pounce. Arabella peered around the corner and saw a headcrab, which jumped the moment her head came into view. Arabella immediately drew herself back around the corner, which left the headcrab still flying through the air looking quite graceful; until it smacked into the wall of the shaft and slid to the ground, whereupon Tom pounced onto the headcrab and ripped it apart. "Nicely done Tom" Arabella remarked with a hint of admiration.

Their journey through the shaft continued uninterrupted until they reached a ladder that went up quite a distance. "Hmm I don't think that even a cat of your intelligence will be able to get up there. I'm afraid you'll have to get in my backpack." Once Arabella had unzipped the main pocket Tom jumped in and sat still while Arabella zipped the bag shut a little way so that Tom didn't fall out. When Arabella was satisfied that Tom wasn't going to fall out she started the climb up the service ladder.

The shaft opened out into a maintenance office that appeared to be deserted. Arabella, after looking around the room, climbed into the room and let Tom out of her backpack. Tom padded around the room but found no more headcrabs to dismember. Arabella walked over to the door of the room which opened onto a rooftop, satisfied that there was nothing in the near vicinity she went through the door. Due to the lack of cover she crawled to the edge of the rooftop to take her bearings. To her surprise she found that she was on the rooftop that she had to be on to provide cover for Mal should the situation warrant her skills.

Below her she could see the landing zone with an Osprey present. Amongst the soldiers she could also see a single suited man. "Hmm he looks like he may be the man that Mal and Sparks are seeking for answers." Arabella got herself comfy on the rooftop and set up her sniper rifle waiting for the show that Mal and Sparks will undoubtedly provide.

RP Conversation
Involving: 2Lt. Malcom Connor (Deimenried) and Lt. Jack Sparks (MyNameDidntFit)
Drafted: 31st Jan 2009 via IM

> Mal returned to Sparks. Mal was preoccupied fiddling with the straps of his new gas mask as he finished gearing up.
"I haven't worn Marine gear for a long time...." he paused, his thoughtful expression hidden behind the sterile black rubber of the mask, "...longer since I wore one that wasn't mine..."
> Jack looked up at Mal with a shake of his head as he took another draw from his cigarette, “And I haven’t smoked in a long time,” he half smiled as he got to his feet, taking one last draw and casting away the butt, “I guess we should move out… and when we find my colleagues, lay of the genocide remarks, eh?”
With another half smile Sparks turned and start off down the same corridor that Arabella had taken earlier.
> "No promises here..." Mal muttered securing his helmet and submachine gun before following Sparks towards the extraction point. I hope Corporal Davis doesn't mind me nicking his stuff... Not that it's much use to him now...
> Nothing but the dead bodies of human and alien alike impeded their progress and before long they were nearing the evac; the drone of an Osprey’s rotors was barely audible in the almost eerie silence. Sparks turned to Malcom and gestured him to keep a few meters back as he jogged onwards, rounding two more corners before he spotted another Marine sprinting towards the evac- Shephard!
Even as Sparks opened his mouth to call to Shephard a door slammed shut between them and a figure walked into view behind the glass window.
”No! ****!” Jack screamed as he hit the door with his shoulder at a run, “Bastard!”
Footsteps hit his ears as Malcom joined him at the door.
> "God damn it....." Mal sighed seeing the locked door, the suited man smiling slyly before walking out of view of the door's small glass window. Suddenly and without warning Sparks set off at a full sprint down a side corridor. Mal took a good few kicks hard at the door. It seemed strangely resilient. Mal had breached many similar doors with ease, and this looked no different. Convinced the door was shifting nowhere fast, he set off in the same direction as Sparks, hoping to catch up, or at least find a fairly obvious route to his intended destination.
> The path Jack took was one he knew was longer than the one Shephard was on but he hoped his speed would make up for it and, at first, it seemed that it had; he passed through the massive roller door that lead onto the LZ and bowled straight up to the first Marine he saw. Every eye in the evac zone was on him.
“Shephard? Is he here?” Sparks panted, almost completely out of breath.
“No.” the Marine answered shortly.
Jack looked into the Marine’s face; Captain Mitchell.
“****. Guess it’s the waiting game.”
“Well, Lieutenant, you’ve got about 60 seconds of waiting- we’re leaving then, anyone not here is left behind.”
Sparks drew his hand down his face wearily and looked about just in time to see Malcom jogging towards him.
> As Mal approached, it suddenly hit him. He was in the 'Lion's Den', mere metres from more than 2 dozen heavily armed enemies, subterfuge his only defence, a slain marine's apparel the only thing stopping a blizzard of lead erupting in his direction. Remembering his Marine days he stopped, stood to attention and saluted Captain Mitchell. As the Captain returned the salute he rejoined Sparks.
"Any sign?" Mal whispered, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.
> “None,” Jack replied quietly even as he listened to Mitchell’s final calls to board the Ospreys.
It wasn’t long before only the Captain, Malcom and Sparks stood on solid ground. Mitchell turned to Sparks, “You just going to stand there, Lieutenant?”
“That was the plan actually, I don’t leave my men in a ****-storm like this one, Captain.” Christ I hope he buys that, I don’t think questions would lead anywhere friendly…
A moment of consideration later and Mitchell replied, “Huh, your choice,” he turned to Malcom, “And what of you, Corporal?”
> A chill ran down Mal's spine, he could feel the Captain's glare. He turned to the Captain,
"The rest of my buddies are in there, sir. I must do duty by my squad. Nobody gets left behind, sir." He half-winced at his own attempt.... He'll never believe a Marine would say that...
> Sparks was almost sure the Captain would see through it somehow, but instead he merely shook his head, “Like I told the Lieutenant; your choice. Good luck.”
With a quick salute the Captain jumped aboard the nearest Osprey and they began their take-off. Even as they lifted away from the ground Jack saw the roller door close in his peripherals; the suit was at the controls and to the side was Shephard, staring through the glass at the LZ.
“No!” Sparks yelled almost involuntarily as he took off towards the suit.
As he drew nearer he raised his weapon, noticing Malcom doing the same as he drew level. As they were only ten meters away time seemed to slow to a crawl and his vision dimmed. His mind operated at normal speed but his body- nor the environment it seemed –could move at a pace to match real time. But the suit could; he walked calmly away, pausing once to stare at the pair.
During the pause Jack willed his finger to clench tight on the trigger and succeeded, the light of the muzzle flash stayed there for an unreal amount of time as the rounds slowly spun from the barrel, even their speed was nullified by whatever was happening.
The suit’s face lit up with a sickly grin at Jack’s futile attempts and he simply walked from the courtyard. A moment after he was out of view the world snapped back into place; Jack’s bullets firing off into the wall ahead of them and the two men’s running resuming its speed… but something else was missing; Shephard was gone from the window.
> As reality shifted back to normality Mal stumbled to the ground, disorientated by the sudden return to the full sprint and half-rolled before coming to a stop on his back.
"Fffffffuck."
He winced sitting up, his hand on his abdomen; he had almost forgotten his injuries in all the commotion of the chase. He looked over to see Sparks with his face to the armoured glass of the roller door behind which they saw the elusive Shephard, straining to see what lay within.
"That's not the first time he's pulled that kind of **** on me..." Mal muttered removing his gas mask to get some clear air now that the marines were gone. "And I'm sure it won't be the last." Slowly he got back on his feet, stretching and wincing as he slowly walked over to Sparks.
> Jack punched the glass hard. Hard enough that he stood for the next minute flexing his fingers to regain feeling as he thought over things, “We’ve touched a nerve. Shephard is important to that spineless ****- we just have to find out why… and more importantly, find a way around that dirty son of a *****’s… whatever the **** that was,” he paused in the middle of his train of thought, “Wait, not the first time?”
> "Afghanistan" Mal replied bluntly, still recovering. "Shephard's squad quite often disappeared without any explanation. Of course, that suit had some creative answers." He paused, "Convinced the CO's somehow... I swear he must have hypnosis or something. Anyone who buys his bullshit is either out of it or was born yesterday." Mal looked around at the empty waste of the LZ for signs of if and where Arabella had set up her sniper nest.
> Sparks did his best to push the issue from his mind for a while, get a clear head before continuing his thoughts. In the glass he saw Malc’s reflection gazing about the area.
“Looking for your girlfriend?”
> "You could say that." He replied distantly. "Well... either she's very well hidden or dead..."
> Jack turned from the window finally and put his own eyes to the search, scanning the rooftops primarily.
“Any idiot can hide with the higher ground,” he retorted and glanced around finding what he wanted; a ladder to the roof and started towards it, “Even so, she shouldn’t exactly be hiding from us, should she now?”
> "You, maybe." Mal half-smiled, following Sparks to the roof access, checking behind them, half expecting to see the suited man staring at them from afar.
> Jack found himself laughing, “Ouch, and to think, I thought there was some chemistry between us.”
Almost immediately after he finished his sentence he froze and stopped laughing, a set off quiet footprints were approaching. With a gesture Jack pointed Malc to a piece of cover and took up his own position as they waited with bated breath.