Left in the Ashes (IC)

[Forgotten T.S.]

GM Note: As of right now, you are all have no awareness of each others existence until such time as you come into contact of one another. You are all in different places of the city of Las Vegas. Because of this... you shall all be getting individual attention for the first part of the game... or for all of the game if you never come into contact with one another. Though, don't count on that.

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James O'brian - Former Captain of the 12th Armored Ground Legion of The United Galactic Nations.

James stands in front of a full board of superior officers which make up the Internal Military Commissions Board. Three of he four officers here are ranked as Lieutenant Colonels, while there is one single full fledged Colonel among the bunch. Each holds a small folder of papers which you are positive is a copy of your military record, and any other intelligence about you that could be scavenged prior to the Reset of 2312.

"Captain O'brian... you have served the Former United States of America for 4 solid years. You lead the Earth Defense valiantly, and saved several good soldiers from unacceptable deaths. You have served the United Galactic Nations since the Reset. We have reviewed your terms of discharge from our services, and by provisions listed in the Articles of Transfer and Seizure, we are bound to allow you these terms. We thank you for your service to your country, and to your planet. You are dismissed." The officers stand, and wait for your salute before returning it.

As you walk out of the meeting chambers, you watch as several soldiers and other military personal walk along the hallways with arms of paperwork, or doing routine patrols. You can feel a sense of longing, a sense of lose, as you walk down the steps that lead up to the United Galactic Military Keep, and make your way to your appointed barracks on-base. You slowly begin packing up your personal belongings, getting together all your important possessions.

After you finish packing, you hitch a ride into the city with one of your former platoon soldiers. The man looks like steel, and you know he's rather disheartened by your discharge from the service, having been with him on several missions and survived a lot thanks to your guidance. As you get out of the vehicle, he lifts a hand and gives you a formal and stone salute, "If you ever need help sir, you know how to get in contact."

With that, he takes off back towards the Base. You stand now in the middle of Las Vegas... ready to start a new life.


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John Graves - Junker

John lived a rather simple life in the North-East district of Las Vegas, where he both lived and worked. After getting tossed off a transport ship about 8 months back thanks to a random slipup, he found his good-name as a mechanic a bit tarnished... a bit to tarnished to even land a job on a garbage ship.

However, it wasn't bad enough to land you work at Mokto's Junkyard and Repair. Mokto took you in off the street, put a wrench in your hand, and told you to go to town on the junkyard. Anything you fixed up, and he could sell, he gave you 40% commission on after expenses. You've been making pretty good money since then at the little business, and formed a rather nice business relationship with Mokto, a rather hefty black man who has a large scar down the left side of his face.

Today, you find yourself under the hood of a classic Oldsmobile 2220 Town Car that you are performing a Hover Conversion on. Hell, you didn't think they made many land cars anymore.


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Alexander - Trapped.

The steel gray walls of your "room", though you have most certainly come to terms that this is nothing more then a glorified cell, are oppressive as they squash in around you. A single table lays in the middle, with several monitoring screens and equipment around it... and your body displayed out on it with your ribcage opened up to reveal your bio-mechanoid parts.

Dr. Keinstaaf stood over him, a clipboard in hand as he ticked off on various boxes and wrote down various notes. "My my my, Alexander... you are such an oddity. Your body is easily holding up to this electrical charge, and yet you remain conscious. Simply remarkable... I'm astounded by my own brilliance to have created you. Now, to find what is making this improbability... work, and to isolate it... and, oh well. Don't worry yourself Alexander." He shakes his head, as if realizing he was talking to someone who could never begin to comprehend the simple genius of what he was saying.

"Well Alexander, that is all for the testing today. I must leave early for a presentation I am holding in Scranton, PA. Though, the world isn't quite ready for you..." He laughs and looks down at a watch, "Damn, 20 minutes til the copter leaves. Must be off..." With that, Dr. Keinstaaf rushed out of the room closing the door behind him.

He was in a rush, just like you had predicted a month ago when he had told you about having to go to this presentation. Dr. Keinstaaf was a brilliant scientist, with theories you pre-programmed knowledge banks could barley begin to formulate and quantify... but he was always a bit rushed with things, with his own brillance, and over-thinking things to much. For instance... he overestimated his own brillance, and underestimate your perception. He had left equipment in the room with you, which were hooked up to the Underground Facilities network. He had left you, having told you he would not be back for at least 2 days. No one checked on you except Dr. Keinstaaf, no one. You were a secret, and very important project to him.

He would never risk his child getting discovered and someone else getting the credit.


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Mike Johnson - Agent.

"You functioned commendably out there Johnson, as always good work. I'd but a note on your file, but..." A beefy hand slaps your back as you are walked down the hallway of Divison 08, under Las Vegas. You are currently walking along next to Team Lead Dan Froth. You are rather positive this isn't his real name... but you don't question it. This was part of your life... as was displayed by his humorous comment regarding your completely lack of any file in the system. How could you not exist, if there were records of you?

"Listen, we got a few other things in the worlds... but some of the chiefs are heading off to Pennsylvania for some conference or something. Going to be gone for about a week or two, so you got some R&R on hand. Go out, enjoy the city a bit, and remember to cover up. Hate to have to put down a crazy invading muti, who got into downtown Vegas." He laughs again at his joke as he breaks away from you and walks down another hallway leading towards his office leaving you by yourself in the hallway.

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Please Note: All rolls are to be done in this thread. If you think you messed a roll up, simply make a new post with your new roll, and I will review. Do not delete the post with the mistake-roll. If I catch people fudging rolls, there will be hell to pay.

[Wraithkin]

Mike

"Thanks Dan. Have fun at your conference." He let the last of his words drip heavily with sarcasm, but he shrugs his shoulders and walks back to his room. He knew he had to keep hidden, and knowing the cops, they shot first and asked later. That is assuming, after all, that they even asked when killing a mutie. His gear loadout didn't even phase him, and looking at what he had, he didn't have to bother to really discard much before heading out to the streets.

Stripping off the armor suit he had, he put it in the cleansing unit while he hopped in the shower and let the warm water wash off the layer of grit that had accumulated during his time in the wastes. Turning off the water, he toweled himself off and checked on the cleansing unit's work. Five minutes left. Walking over to his sustenance station, he placed his palm on a read pad and it scanned, the computer making sure he was who he claimed to be. Within moments, a metal canister made itself present. Quickly uncapping it, he drinks the canister's contents and promptly replaces it from whence it came.

Walking back over to the armor, after it was done, he donned it again in its entirety and threw on a simple set of baggy clothes that were in the current trends, and windbreaker jacket with a hood. Mask in place, and a bandanna to conceal it, he sighs and sets his backpack in his locker and closes it up. Walking out his room, he nods at the security personnel and then fades from view, the door opening and sealing behind him as he ventures out into the streets of Vegas invisible to those around him. A pair of invisible beams streak outward and latch to the side of the building above him, and his form ascends slowly and he anchors himself off against the building, watching the street below him and the people walking them.

Inwardly he sighs, knowing he can never be a part of that society again. He missed it, but he knew what he was getting into when he signed onto this job.

Spoiler

Show

hide! - (1d20+14)[29]

[Guineas]

O'Brian

As Reggie's truck drives back down the road, the dust it kicks up gets in James' eyes. Taking out a handkerchief, he wipes his face and eyes of the grit and walks into town.

Hmm...guess I can't go around in BDUs as a civilian anymore...might be a good idea to get some new clothes. Looking around the town around him, James wanders until he sees a bright neon sign reading "TAYLOR'S TAILORS." Minding his head and his bag, he enters the door, where he is greeted by a perky saleswoman in a slightly revealing outfit. O'Brian cheerfully waves, but denies her offer of assistance and goes to the back of the store, where the less...loudly colored clothing are. After trying on a few outfits, he finds a simple black shirt and olive green pants. He pays for them, again smiling at the saleswoman as he walks out of the store.

Now, I just need a job...

James again walks for a distance, looking for any familiar or friend faces in the crowds he passes. After a few moments, he is at the door of Harmond's House of Hospitality, a local pub that caters to less-than-desirables, at least in the eyes of the government. He steps inside, places his bag in the checking station, and takes a stool at the bar. A whirlwind of colors, noises, and smells around him, James inputs his selection--a Tank Buster, hold the salt--and waits for the server to come. A man with a cybernetic arm and thick glasses places a strange, ornate glass in front of O'Brian.

"That'll be 45, sir."

James places the bills into the man's outstretched hands, plus a little extra, and asks:

"Any work for a 'lancer in these parts?"

[Guineas]

O'Brian

Spoiler

Show

Gather Information (Taking 20 on wealth check) (1d20+3)[13]

[Forgotten T.S.]

Mike Johnson - Agent.

The security guards at the main lift blink as Mike fades from view, their assault rifles coming up immediately as they look around for you. As the lift doors close, you can hear one saying out loud, "Damn freaks from Sector 8, again. God damn, wish someone would keep them in line."

Mike moves out amongst regular society, walking slowly through the throngs of people with adapted ease in the concealment of the photon-shield that protects him from their eyes. If they knew he was there, and knew what he was... he had no doubts it would cause mass panic, even after all he had done for them in his life.

With practiced ease, he shot a tether up the side of a large 5-story building, where it latched onto a third-floor ledge. Pressing a button, he was slowly dragged up to the ledge he quietly found a perch to watch the city around him. It seemed rather normal; people walking on the sidewalks, hovercars zooming around corners, street vendors trying to hawk some worthless piece of trash for some cash.

Yet he would most likley never join it again, or die the moment he did.

Everything is rather peaceful around his particular area, no little pickpockets (that he can see) are strumpeting through the crowds, no little old ladies need help crossing the road. After all, this is downtown Las Vegas... where once those things would of happened every couple of seconds... the new Las Vegas was completely absent of it here in the main sectors.


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O'brian - Just Another Joe

The salesgirl thanks him for his business, giving him a rather flirty wink as he walks back out onto the street. Downtown Las Vegas was rather big, the throngs of people moving around him reminded him of New York before the Reset... so many people. Shaking his head he lists himself off on his options of what to do... a job, and a place to live.

Heading on over to Harmond's House, he grabs one of the tougher drinks and poses the question off on the Bartender, whom he knows isn't named Harmond at all. The tender takes the cash and rubs his chin, "Around here? Not much... if you know how to shoot, suggest you look over in the main district, I heard Vegas Security was putting out some advert's for new blood."

[WhiteKnight777]

Alexander

Alexander was patient. He could afford to be. though he had what might be called emotions, they were still nascent, and fairly easy for him to overrule with logic. He desired his freedom, yes, particularly as it looked more and more as if he would never leave this facility intact... but he could wait a little longer. Alexander waited until Keinstaaf had left the room, impassive and silent as a corpse.... but meanwhile, he began to let his consciousness slip along the link to the Network that the good doctor had so thoughtfully providing, his thought-tendrils seeking out the data-paths of the underground base's network. He worked more quickly and more efficiently than most humans ever could, and certainly moreso than an unmodified human would be able to. He had what might be called a certain empathy with these machines, being one himself, albeit in a sapient form. And so he worked, searching, searching for something that might give him what he needed so desperately: Freedom.

With typical patience and care, Alexander slipped his mind into the base's network, searching carefully. His objectives were multipart: Attempt to determine the best route from his cell to the exit, based on a number of factors, namely how secure said route was, how long it would take him to reach the surface using it, and how soon he would be able to use it. He also sought to cross-reference this information with duty rosters, patrol schedules, and, if possible, confirm with live camera-feeds. In addition, he looked for some means of providing a distraction to the base to cover his escape - perhaps shutting down the power core or introducing a virus into the system. He would also need to cover his tracks, both by eliminating any security evidence of his passing and by making sure his tampering with the system would not be noticed.

(Note: Unless there's actually any pressure that means he -needs- to escape very soon, he thinks he has two-ish days, so he'll be very cautious. This means taking 20 on his check for a total of 42.)

[estradling]

Graves

It wasn't a space ship. Not by a long shot. But he was allowed to work and left alone for the most part and that was good. He only really had to deal with Mokto, which was easy enough. Mokto acquired the supplies and handled making the sales, and John performed modern alchemy. Changing discarded scraps and broken parts in to saleable devices, and cars.

Buried in the guts of the car John ran into a problem. The part he was about to install had a hair line fracture that he had missed earlier. He could install it but in about 6 months of normal use it would break. He could get away with it. Even if the customer did come back Mokto would take the heat not John.

Still John took a certain amount of pride in his work, so it simply wasn't good enough. Digging himself out he looked around the junkyard he saw all the other scrapped machines. Somewhere in there would be something he could use as a replacement. He just had to find it.

Ever since the reset, Mokto had kept his inventory off line. That meant John had to walk all the way back to the main office to access the database. He was trying to convince Mokto to go wireless, at least as far as the junkyard, but that wasn't going to well. Mokto joked that Graves looked like he could use the exercise.

Spoiler

Show

Take a 10 on the craft check. (Electrical or Mechanical) for a total of 27.

Am I correct in assuming that the Wealth check is waved, due to salvaging from the junk yard? If not I hope the junkyard gives a +2 bonus so I can take a ten on it as well

[Guineas]

O'Brian

"Hah...well, that's too bad. I'm an old man now; hardly new blood by anyone's imagination. Maybe some other time."

With that, James gulps down his drink in one fell swoop, and pats Harmond on the shoulder as he walks away from the bar. He picks up his bag from the checking station, and walks out the door.

It's nighttime now; the neon lights from local clubs and stores light up the town like a carnival. James takes a long sigh as he looks at the throngs of people around him, and wanders around town until he realizes he is completely exhausted. After sitting down on a local bench, he looks across the street and notices he's back at the clothing store he was at only a few hours ago. The sign is dull and gray now, and James notices the same saleswoman walking out the door wearing a completely different and much more mature outfit. On a whim, he walks across, says a polite greeting, and gives her his comm frequency. She seems to blush at this, but James walks away before she gives any response.

After a short while, James finds himself at the bus station, and looks for fees cross-country. He looks in his wallet, and notices he's low on money; certainly not enough for a ticket home. He heads out, and checks into a small hotel just down the road, and lies down, setting the wake-up call for 6:30, and goes to sleep.

[Forgotten T.S.]

O'Brian - Just Another Joe

As O'brian is leaving, the bartender shrugs and scrubs out a glass, "Didn't mean literally, just new to them." He rolls his eyes and continues serving the other patrons. As O'brian is leaving, a group of bikers walk in after he gets past the door and don't even spare him a glance... one guy is waiting outside looking after their hoverbikes.

After slipping the little lady his number, O'brian starts heading for a bus-station... when he remembers mass-transit is no longer performed by buses. Buses had been routinely used for intercity transit since the 20th century, and once people found something good... they usually stuck with it. However, all intercity, and cross-country travel had been commissioned off to only flights at around 2120. Except of course by those people who still chose to take their own vehicles on cross-country trips.

After the Reset... all travel has been highly regulated. To travel anywhere out of a main city, requires all the appropriate identification paper... a 2 week screening process, and a rather tidy sum... a sum O'brian had no where near enough for. With a parting sigh, O'brian moved off to a local dingy hotel on the North-west side of town called the Pleasant View Inn. You pay for the night, and get up to your room. Deciding to take them up on their offer, you loo out your window to see how pleasant the view is... and all you can see is about 20-30 acres of junkyard. The sign indicates it's Mokto's Junkyard and Repair.

Putting in for a wakeup call, you bunker down for the night.

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Graves - The Junker

GM Note: While you are at a place of employment, and not performing actions that are directly a gain to you, it is assumed all the appropriate parts are available without impacting your Wealth. So... while you are working at Mokto's, and finding stuff to repair vehicles that Mokto sales, you can easily find anything you need to do the job, and it's free.


Graves wonders around the junkyard for a little while, tearing through some old heaps trying to find the proper modulator for this conversion. He was pretty lucky, as it's getting close to 4 o'clock, and time for him to get off, and managed to scavenge it off the third vehicle he came across. Looked pretty new in fact, whoever tore up that care, didn't bust up the engine that bad. Mokto must of paid dirt for something that really was nothing but cosmetic damage.

Getting back over to the car, he slaps the part into the proper place and begins firing up the hover-coils. Vehicles started undergoing mass-hover conversions in 2099 after the base technology was perfected. Since then, it has only become easier and cheaper to take a car through the rungs up it all. The car began floating in front of him, a little wobbly at first, but after a few tweaks to the calibration and internal works, it quickly stabilizes.

Mokto walks out just as you get it all righted and looks the car over, "We might make a pretty penny off of that one there, Graves. Good work... I'll have one of the boys come by and take it to get buffed up. Why don't you pack up early, unless you got something around here you want to work on." Mokto was not one to give people early-offs from their shift... this is actually the first time he's ever offered to let you leave a little early in the months you have worked here. He's not a very jolly man, and that's probably why he sales restored vehicles to buyers who seek him out, as opposed to a car salesman.


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Alexander - Trapped.

Alexander was methodical as he began infiltrating the CCN that Division 14 of Sector 14 in the Underground Las Vegas Base of Operations for the United Galactic Nations. The security was some of the best, and with an admin on 24/7 rotations... one mistake could bring the hammer down on him before he knew what was going on.

He was patient, and thanks to that patience he managed to slip through the syntax of Dr. Keinstaaf's operational hubs and move into the base network of the Sector. This particular base operated with 4 Divisions utilizing 4 different Sector's. 2 of these Sectors were open to Alexander's hacking of the network. That was Division 14, Military Advanced Robotics R&D. The other was Division 04, Advanced VRnet Protection Services.

It takes you roughly 10 minutes to pull up the proper files you desired, but you couldn't find a few of them. You managed to pull up the proper files needed to hack into the door-locking system... but you couldn't find anything on the on-duty rosters. It takes you little time to enter your own Shepard-chip Pulse into the security clearance, and even less time to put the CCTV Security Monitoring on a 2-day loop of itself before it switched back over to live-feeds.

As you are dusting your tracks to pull out of the system, you can feel a strange emotion welling up inside of you. You aren't sure how to categorize it... it's like every synapse in your body will explode with an abundance energy. You believe it might be "anxiousness", but you aren't sure. Whatever this strange new feeling is... you shake off the feelings it gives you and return back to your work of covering your tracks the best you can while under the effects of it.

[estradling]

Graves starts packing up his tool kits, while packing he asks. "Do you have any request for my next project?"

It takes a bit to clean off and properly replace his tools into their roll along cart. One of these days he promised himself he would get the tools made out of the latest light weight metals and ceramics, so he wouldn't need such a cumbersome thing to roll them around in.

Once his tools where securely stored it was still too early to call it a night and head back to the tiny hole in the wall that he called home. Instead he headed toward the local dive, there he would grab a bite a drink and maybe catch up on the latest news.

[WhiteKnight777]

Alexander

Alexander studied this new sensation curiously. He wondered if it was evidence of his continuing development of conciousness ,or something that had been implanted in him. The former seemed more likely; he was designed by the military, and he believed that a calm, collected demeanor was more in keeping with their desires. Nevertheless, he inventoried this new sensation methodically, seeking to understand it, even as he kept up his work.

Finally, when he was satisfied he had done all he could, he checked himself over one final time, absentmindedly closing his opened ribcage and rearranging the basic clothing Keinstaaf had provided him with. He checked quickly, making sure all exterior panels were closed, then, before disconnecting himself from the network, checked one last time to make sure no one was in the immediate area. Before disconnecting himself, however, he decided to indulge his curiosity, and briefly looked over the files in both the Robotics department and the Advanced VRnet Protection sections to see if anything in particular caught his eye.

Computer Use - (1d20+22)[28]

[Forgotten T.S.]

Graves - The Junker.

Mokto waves a hand, "Nah, but I'll have some scraps laid out tomorrow I want you to get to work on." He walks you out of the junkyard into the office just as three large men walk in through the front door, all wearing finely made suits, the bulge of pistols coming out from underarm holsters. Another rather finely dressed man walks in, not quite as large as his security. As he walks in, Mokto frowns and looks down at his watch, "Bit early... sorry 'bout this kid. Why don't you head out back, this shouldn't be long."

Mokto spins you around, pushing you out the backdoor and closing it with a soft snap. You hear the sound of the locking bolt going into place as he looks at you through the shades before he closes them.

Not meaning to eavesdrop, you can hear the muttered words coming from the other side as the parties began to talk. At first, they are talking about the car you had fixed up, which you can see from here at the cleaning garage on the property, a small kid giving it a buff and wax. After a few minutes though, the man's voice takes on a tinge of agitation as you can hear a bit of sarcasm seep through into Mokto's tone.

The conversation quickly begins degenerating into shouts... and that's when you decide it might be best to get out of there. You hop through a hole in the fence behind an old junker, and make your way around the hotel pool next door, Mokto was actually a business association of the hotel's owner, and had arranged for a permanent room for you there for as long as you worked for him. You saddled up the stairway and began walking along the balcony to your room when you heard the sound of gunshots.

At first, it's like a car backfiring... then you look towards Mokto's office from elevating position... and watch it for a moment. The sounds of gunfire have died off, and you watch two men run out of the building, one is the leader of the bunch, being carried by his security man. As they are running... you watch the leader lift up his hand, holding something in his hand.

It could easily be mistaken as a gun from this distance... but somethings odd about the way he's holding it. It doesn't take long for your mind to process it... but by then it's to late as you watch him slam his finger down on the trigger of the device. The resounding explosion is so huge... it blows you backwards through a window into a hotel room. You fly across the room and slam off the end of the bed, and then hit the wall roughly as she slide down and hit the floor painfully. You can feel the world going black as everything get's dizzy... you can see black clouds and fire through the windows.

You feel as if you might be slipping into unconsciousness, but you take a hold of yourself and quickly begin shaking yourself awake.


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O'brian - Just Another Joe

You are kicking back on your bed, flicking through the channels hoping to find something to entertain you before you bunk down for the night. A newspaper lays open next to you, the Job Listings apparent as you had been scoping for any type of reasonable job. You hadn't really found much for anyone with your type of skills... Las Vegas offered only one of of four places for people like you. Police. Military. Organized Crime. Private Security. You had already done the first two... and you were iffy about throwing yourself into a world of crime to scrape two quarters together.

The only Security firm hiring in town, happened to be the only security firm that existed in town. Las Vegas Security. They were looking for worker's of all kinds. Engineers, Gunmen, Patrolmen, anything everything. Willing to train anyone, and with a rather decent payrate.

As you flicked through the channels, the hairs on the back of your neck raise up. From years of being out in the field, combat experience drilled into your brain, you know something bad is just about to happen. A shadow falls across your blinds as someone is passing your room... and you can see their shadow getting even darker as if someone were shooting a spotlight at them.

You roll just in time off your bed to miss the hail of glass as it blasts out of the window. You watch in sickly horror as a man's body comins flying through the air, bouncing off your bed, and hitting the wall next to you. His body stopping there as he looks around disorientedly. You look back to the window and can see nothing but black smoke rising, and huge fires arching around.


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Alexander - Trapped

You bounce your signal over to the mainframe for the VRnet R&D, but as you are browsing their catalogues files... nothing spectacular pops out at you. Most of it seems to be boring code that is repeated over and over again for military protcols on private HUD's. HUD addresses and the such for various public governmental sites.

[estradling]

Graves

The young man coughs a few times. He tries to stand, but fails, blood starts appearing from various cuts he received going through the window. He groans and can be heard to say, "They killed Mokto"

He finally manages to stand up, limping painfully he moves back out toward the wall he was just blasted through to look at what happened. His rattled mind not registering the presence of another person, or most anything else.

Spoiler

Show

A Demolitions check to see what I can tell about the explosion
(1d20+15)[31]

[Forgotten T.S.]

Graves - The Junker

Demolitions Result: After your mind clears up a bit... you realize the explosion was to big to be set off by a single charge of explosion that had just been left in the room. It would of taken either strategically places C4-charges, or high-grade military explosives. Also, when you do finally get up and see out the window, the junkyard itself is also inflames... indicating that charges had been setup through the junk field. Whoever that man in the finely tailored suit was... he was prepared to do this from the very beginning.


Character Note: Graves has suffered 10 Damage, and 10 Nonlethal Damage. You were stunned for 5 rounds also. You are no longer stunned.

[WhiteKnight777]

Alexander

Alexander thought for a moment.... or at least, what passed for a moment to someone who thought at a speed based on CPU cycles. There appeared to be nothing here of interest. Though he was curious as to what was buried deeper in the archives, he determined that it was unwise to linger. Too much might go wrong. He might be detected, or the conditions allowing for his escape might simply grow worse. However, he was still concerned... he had no idea what the security was like along his projected route, and he had already failed to bring up the duty rosters.... he chewed over possible ideas for a moment, then decided upon one. He would check the already-compromised security cameras along the route to determine how heavy security was, and how best to time his route based on that information. If he could gain nothing more from that, he would simply have to move. This opportunity was too good to be missed.

Spoiler

Show

Computer Use - (1d20+22)[27]

Knowledge:Tactics - (1d20+19)[32] (For determining best route, if applicable)

[Forgotten T.S.]

Alexander - Trapped.


Alexander watches the security patrols for a little while over the feeds to see how his path will be to his gains of freedom. It looks as if there is a patrol of 2 guards every 10 minutes along each passageway, but you watch them interact with other people through the hallways, and can instantly tell they aren't checking ID's. The security here has seemed to become complacent on the computerized security to catch anyone trying to gain access to places they aren't suppose to.

However, you didn't look like most of the regular non-military people you saw in the hallways. You lacked the standard outfits... plus, you still had more to accomplish. After all, what was the purpose of freedom, if but with one push of a button, you were completely destroyed. Or if they could find you in an instant. You had to get the destruction system removed, or at the very least temporarily shutdown, along with the nanobeacon installed in you.