Survival of the Memorable (Gear)

[MKR]

November 12th, 2880 AD
Area 3, State Funded Britannian Prison
19:42 PM

Just over twelve hour had passed since the capture of Dahlia Lycoris, the Reclaimer. The capture conducted by Mauve team was one for the history books as the first instance of a Reclaimer being captured alive instead of taking the coward's route out as it was commonly called. Afterwards the Britannian legal system was swift to move, within two hours the woman had been dragged into a courtroom not far from the city of Panama, still recovering from the battle. It was a hopeless legal battle of course, not that there needed to be much rigging when there was footage of the Gran Cher fighting Britannian Forces as well as ample witness statements, thus did charges of Eco-Terrorism as well as regular Terrorism go through.

The girl was sentenced to be sent to Arzenal 'eventually' and her Gran Cher was to be relocated, far away from her. He still remembered her reaction, the scream she let out in return. What a sight from the otherwise completely still girl. That there was some fire in that heart still, raging against the tide. Of course there were different ideas for how to handle this little situation, of course Arzenal was the commonly agreed upon method and for a prisoner this high profile Britannia needed to show it was holding that part of the deal. That didn't mean however they couldn't use a different method to deal with the prisoner.

Which brought the man to this corridor, the uniform of one of the Knights of the Round adorning halls they would never normally allow to taint their nobility. The pure, white contrasting with the tainted prison walls but. This section of the prison had been cleaned beyond the norm for that reason, and that was not because its one resident was important but because they were receiving an important guest. That and it was feared that improper sterilization could infect one with Orphan's stink among security. That was one of the reasons that the guards were only stationed on three hour cycles and a mental evaluation was done before and after. Why the woman was bolted to a chair, well that was for the safety of the guest of course.

His ash grey hair came into her vision calmly, closing the door behind as locks engaged.
"Good evening miss, it is not often we get visitors from Orphan here that deign to stay." He walked forwards, taking a seat on a chair much more luxurious than the restraints that kept the woman in place.
"I was hoping we could have ourselves a chat, I would really like to find out more about your home."

 

[Nemesis]

How could they?

The thought had been running in circles in her mind since she'd gotten here. The hours, the words, everything spoken had been carefully absorbed, but not quite processed. It was as if she had gone into a kind of protective chrysalis, separated from the outside world by a thick plate of mental chiton. Her being here was no coincidence. Others before her had ended it, unable to bear being separated from, or failing Orphan... but not she. Everything that happened... was fate. Hadn't her father said something similar to her?

It all felt like so long ago.

She sat in her seat, head bowed, almost motionless, much as she had been since her arrival. At first it had seemed troubling to the doctors there, who had examined her with a kind of gingerly touch that indicated their lack of understanding... but after a few hours, she was bothered no longer. Her fingernails were chipped and bloody, from how hard they had scraped against the door upon learning she would be separated from her Gran Cher.

And then, they had come. People in finer clothes, that had made her rise, shower, put makeup on her, and made her pick out something nice to wear. She sat, fragrant and innocent as a lily, under her bonnet and white sun dress.

Seemingly not forgetting her manners, or perhaps driven by some long-drilled standard of politeness, she reached up and removed the hat, setting it aside. Two eyes like hot coals, with deep, dark bags that couldn't be entirely masked by the foundation, glowered back at the visitor. There was suspicion in those eyes, but no fear. Even from where he sat, the Britannian noble could see her flexing subtly against the restraints, searching for any kind of weak point, like a rat in a cage.



"I..." Said Dahlia, finally, her voice hoarse and dry, like sandpaper being dragged across a particularly coarse chunk of timber.

It was the first coherent word she had uttered since she had got there... and her features morphed into a slow, mocking grin.

"...Want to see my lawyer." She rasped.

 

[MKR]

Ah she could speak, the man grinned back.
"I'm afraid we are past that, those who are destined for Arsenal do not have a lot of rights remaining to call on, and since your sentence was concluded without a doubt there is no Lawyer who would speak for you. I doubt there are many who would be willing to do you any favors now." The young man explained, as if to rub salt in the wound that no one would come to help her.

"But- If you are nice, respectful and willing to talk with me however, I can pull some strings to allow you a last view of your Gran Cher before you get sent away." He crossed his legs, right over the left. "And if you well and truly behave, then perhaps you can get to touch it again. Now then, shall I begin with my questions?" Not waiting for a potential yes or no answer and preying on the one point where there had been a reaction he continued the carrot on a stick dangling in front of her to see and try and wrest if she played by this man's rules.

"I take it you've been around enough Britannians to know how to make a good impression on one? Now then, tell me what is life on Orphan like. How do you get your day to day needs for example or perhaps you would like to tell me what you do for fun?" His arms were put over one another as he made eye contact with the woman, watching her struggle against her restraints not a bit of concern on his face as he did so.

 

[Nemesis]

At the mention of her Gran Cher, there was a twitch in the young woman's eye, and a spasm at her wrist - but the restraints held firm, keeping her from leaping from her seat. The sound of her teeth grinding against one another in the silence with fury came... and then passed, as she relaxed onto her seat again. The nature of his questions were... unusual.

"Someone like you... Could never comprehend how it feels." She said, eyes narrowing.

"To be part of something greater."

She paused, as if out of breath, her eyes roaming about the room anew frantically... but they eventually settled on his clothes. She gestured to them as much as she could with her hand, a chipped, plastic nail of white pointing to his chest.

"Your fineries. Your titles. Your status. All Britannia holds dear."

Dahlia blinked, slowly, and her lips settled into a thin line. Here was someone who could not be bribed, nor who had ever felt anything approaching awe at the usual displays of splendor that her guest was no doubt accustomed to.

"But, these are transient. Temporary. Your wealth will fade. Your grand memory, forgotten. Your history, fade into irrelevance. But, we?"

She gave a soft laugh - which quickly transformed into a dry, hacking cough. Spittle dripped from her lips as she looked the man in the eyes.

"Our genes will carry our legacy into infinity. Even those who fall will live among the stars forever."

She smiled again - but this time, it was almost rapturous, as if she were preaching the Gospel to an unbeliever, reveling in the divine truth of her words, dropping into a reverent, impassioned whisper that sent chills up the spines of those who heard it, saying:

"That... is Orphan. Infinity. Eternity. That... is God."

 

[MKR]

The man calmly put his back on the chair, listening on the mad ravings of the lunatic in front of him. He listened but seemed almost disappointed in the results as she spoke them. "God, hm?" He replied eventually. "To think God could manifest in anything physical is a joke. I do however think it is an act of the Gods which led to our meeting here today, for they have ever favored our nation."

He put his hands inside one another, fingers crossing as the wrists rested on his lap.
"To take part in something greater, however." A smile pursed on his lips. "Perhaps you are right, I am not one of the masses who trudge through their days. However, I do start great things and get to watch their conclusion. Even then being a part of Britannia is being part of something truly great."

His eyes closed for a moment his smile fading. Perhaps she had won this contest had he ceded defeat and had bluster fallen apart?
"Shall I teach you what it is like, to be part of true greatness?"

When he opened his eyes once more, what was over his left eye was almost like a bird inside his iris, colored red against the previously blue gaze.
"Listen, and heed my words." The bird almost seemed to shoot of his eye at the phrase, connecting with her matching gaze and being 'captured' within. He loved overconfident people, those who saw him as beneath them for a multitude of reasons.

For one it was always great to put them down a peg or two, but it was even better when his liege bid him to use the divine power granted to him for the benefit of their cause. The power that could sedate unwashed masses within a day, and overturn a nation in a week were he to release it. For now however, his liege had bid him to pass on a message to Orphan.

"First spread this full command to those who live within Orphan without rousing suspicion from them. Only once a significant majority of its denizens and forces are affected by this command the following order will activate: You and all affected will do everything in your power to make Orphan the next numbered area of Britannia and have it remain as such. Additionally aim to make yourselves become loyal Honorary Britannians and hold that position." He calmly repeated the prepared statement as if tracing words from a holy scripture.

Orphan was God? Preposterous. But if she thought they would live on forever inside its gluttonous gut as its protection from any viral invasion then having a protector so reverent of their false god be its downfall was only poetic. Any pretender god standing in their path would kneel, as would its subjects. That is why the gods had given them this power.

With the statement said he rose to his feet, stepping around the available space as he closed his eye. Retuning it to normality. She wouldn't remember they had even met for the next couple of minutes at least her mind would take to process everything he had just granted her.
From a tray near the wall he took a meal, slop. But sustenance. Nothing he would deign to eat himself but now that his infected cell had been prepared having them starve before they could ever break out of prison and spread this contagious idea was not an option.

Only once she had contaminated at least one of her peers was her death even permissible.
And once she had she could still do this to another, as would her new comrade in arms. And then those they contaminated would as well, and so forth and so forth. Then their 'God' would be anchored, a vessel for Britannian glory.

 

[Nemesis]

Dahlia bit back a sneer, ready to give the uppity noble another tongue-lashing - but there was something about his eye. The way it glowed, how it seemed to fill her vision, cause everything to slow to a crawl, and fall away, leaving nothing but that sigil. It was as if his words were being carved into her mind, and she barely heard her own voice as she gasped in shock:

"What-!?"

...

And everything went black.

---

Later, Dahlia's cell

Dahlia's eyes unscrunched themselves, wearily. The familiar walls of her cell came back into view. What... had happened? Had she fallen asleep? She slouched back into sitting position, her thoughts... groggy. She looked down at her prison clothes, some phantom thought nagging away at the back of her mind... but couldn't place the source. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment-

...Wait.

Chewed?

Her tongue prodded the back of her teeth, and she gingerly dislodged a piece of gristle, lodged between her back molars. She stared at it in confusion, blinking uncertainly in the harsh overhead light. She hadn't eaten since she got here... right? Her sleeves were rolled up, in search of any kind of red marks that might be from an injection of some kind, but found nothing. Her thumb went to her mouth, teeth closing on the end of a nail in anxiety.

Was I... drugged?

There was a metallic clunk, and the light overhead suddenly went out. Time for sleep, it seemed. Sighing, she slumped back against the wall, sliding back down into her cot with her arm over her forehead. Nothing she could do about it now, she thought... and with surprising swiftness, slipped into a fitful, restless slumber.

---

Prison Outskirts

"This is Patrol One, completed our sweep. We'll be returning shortly."

The Glasgow's searchlight swung through the gloom across the undergrowth as its wheels churned away, gliding gracefully through the mud and silt from the night's rain. Within the cockpit, the guard gave a low yawn - his transfer had been surprisingly rapid, and he couldn't complain about the new pay. Plus, it seemed as if most of his coworkers weren't native Britannians - a tremendous relief, considering the jackholes he'd been working with at Sing Sing.

There was a soft piip as the sensors picked something up: A rustling in the trees to his right. Probably, he thought, just a stray cat doing some hunting, but it never hurt to be cautious. He and his wingman skimmed to the right, coming to a slow halt, weapons drawn, as their floodlights scanned the foliage. Eventually, they settled on something silvery, lying prone against the dirt. As they leaned in for a closer look, there was a low, mechanical growl.

"GKKKRRR..."

It was like something out of a child's nightmare. A pair of towering, skeletal forms slinking in near silence out of the darkness, hovering overhead, the red glow of their eyes nothing but terror incarnate.

Before they could even cry out, the Bio-Raptors had fallen upon them, tails and claws smashing into cockpits with a horrific din. Wolfgang's Megaraptor rose from where it had been lying in the dirt, the Zoid shaking off the muck as he watched the two unfortunates being dragged away.

"Sorry buddy." He said reproachfully.

"It was you or me."

A click of the Zoid's fingers, and the Raptors advanced, stalking silently out into the open as they darted from cover to cover. Their air support would be here soon, he knew... and then they'd get back Dahlia. True, he'd earned this assignment by virtue of it being his fault... but he'd see it through to the end. For her sake, and for Orphan's.

 

[MKR]

Sutherlands began to move, contact with a group had been lost and it wasn't like their comms were down again. No that all worked fine.
It was confirmed before when their guest of honor arrived and now when they reached out to the nearby military establishment to request aid. The one Britannian man in the facility sat at a fancy table, the Warden. A middle aged man with a bottle of drink on his table half emptied and freshly opened.
"Bloody threes can't even communicate with one another!" He exclaimed in dismay to an empty chair opposite to him.

It had been too long since he'd been with another pureblood like himself, not sitting here in the dregs with the undesirables. Granted someone had to show them how a proper Britannian behaved but why couldn't it be his unbearable nephew instead! This was hopeless, hopefully the garrison would reinforce their ranks with proper men soon.

The man flipped through the cameras throughout the facility, checking on each of the dregs of society left here at his mercy. Continuing to be fed only by his grace off the hard earned cents of his highness' faithful citizens. What a waste. The screen was paused on a view to the outside, red hues lit by faint light. Heavy metal chains bringing down a titan.

Even moreso then the men and women inside he wondered why that Girl's machine was placed here. He faintly recalled something about citizen morale being why it wasn't kept near Panama City. He took another swig, surely there were better places to keep it out of reach of the terrorist girl.

---

Outside lights moved over the area where the two units had gone missing, the garrison having sent out men to find their errant peers.
"Its not like them to go missing."

"Is it like anyone here to go missing?"

"The warden whenever we get a new supply of booze."

"True enough."
Nervous laughs came across the group of four as they continued their search, sutherlands moving in a group as flashlights moved over the shrubbery and mountain ranges, searching for any trace of the patrol.

 

[Nemesis]

"Too late for subtlety now."

Overhead, a winged, bladed shape cut through the air at supersonic speeds, followed by a dozen smaller, similar forms. The cerulean Bio-Ptera's wings angled themselves slightly, one eye looking back at the wing of Bioraptor Guis that flew in tight formation at its sides.

Dr. Albertine Crane was not amused at the situation. Not one bit.

Firstly, it was taking time away from her research. Second, she was stuck babysitting Wolfgang of all people, whose blundering had potentially jeopardized their whole organization. She hardly could lay the blame on poor Dahlia, who had only been following orders, and couldn't possibly have held her own against an elite Britannian force. The dark interior of the Bio Zoid's control unit would never cease to be unnerving for her - but that, she thought, was also good.

It would keep her on her toes.

"Guis, you know what to do." She said to her wingmates, angling for their final approach.

"We get in, we get out. Knock out communications, don't let them call for help."

The formation of smaller Zoids fanned out, making whatever adjustments were needed as the target came in to sight beneath them. While it wasn't the first time they had deployed such weapons, it was certainly the largest display of force the Reclaimers had mustered thus far.

"Bombs away."

---

Ground-Level

"Shit."

Wolfgang craned his neck up, the distinct noise of falling ordinance whistling through the air enough to bolt any man to his senses. Seemed like the good doctor wasn't in the mood to wait. Growling a curse, he waved the others forward - nothing for it now but to go all out.

"Go, GO!"

With a biomechanical howl, the Bio-Raptors sprung from cover, over a dozen in number, sweeping forward to envelop the pursuers in a cyclone of tails, teeth, and claws. Not even for a moment did they pause to savor the kill - instead, they were sprinting now towards the prison, maws opening wide, as a salvo of Hellfire rounds were launched against its walls - as well as anything unfortunate enough to bar their path.

Wolfgang brought up the rear, not as eager as his peers to be caught in any backblasts from the bombing. As if he needed to give Dr. Crane a reason to shoot at him...

---

Meanwhile...

Within the dark depths of the Prison, Dalia Gran Cher waited. Its body was illuminated by only a few lights, and its guard was, all things considered, quite light. After all, they couldn't move without a pilot, right? Not the ordinary ones, at least. It had been content to play along, staying cold and lifeless, just as its mistress had... waiting, waiting for the right moment to strike, when their guard would be down.

It was cold. And somehow wet. Just to add insult to injury, a burst pipe dripped a constant, steady drip of ice cold water onto its forehead, only further intensifying its aggravation. The restraints about its limbs were tight, it knew that full well... but it had other ways of making headway.

The Gran Cher's right hand flexed in the darkness - and with a sharp, sudden movement, burst. Twisting, writhing ropes of metalflesh surged out from its body, slinking into the surroundings, into whatever alcoves it could find, branching, snapping, growing as it began to work its way through the intestines of the facility in search of the one chosen by Orphan, its tendrils snaking silently through the halls and underfoot, weary of being spotted... yet far, far from defenseless...

 

[MKR]

Explosions. Ringing through eardrums inebriation fading like the sun over the horizon. A bloodshot eye racing down to the screen to see... It.
"What the fuck." He needed to warn the threes outside, the Gran Cher was in motion- somehow. As the warden grabbed the internal phone to communicate with his underlings all he heard was the dead line.

"Those bastards!"

He'd need to warn them in person, his cloak bellowing behind him the warden pushed the door open. He could not have that prized prisoner escape under his watch, it would bring shame upon his name for generations.
As such the Britannian's rounded features pushed forth.

---

The four outside unfortunate enough at least would not be able to feel most of what had happened to them, it was almost merciful in a way. Those near the prison however, the dozen remaining machines on watch, were less fortunate as they would see their deaths coming. Two falling under the tide of hell blasts tearing through their armor, the cockpits attempting to launch out only to be buried underneath rubble from the prison itself. The other four raised their guns and blasted towards the oncoming tide with the machine guns.

The facility was plainly, not prepared to deal with such an onslaught. A gunline was faintly made to concentrate fire in retort but without any proper Anti-Air online yet it was looking poorly for the Threes in charge of this defense. Still help was on its way right? Their comms going offline should especially notify the nearby garrison that things were awry.

---

The knight of the round sat now in much more comfortable a place. Opposite of him a man of real stature unlike the fat hooligan of a duke that was made warden of that dreg heap.
"It appears the assault on the prison has begun." The general informed him.

"How courteous of the Reclaimers to be punctual, his highness will be most pleased. Once the show has concluded we will depart for Pendragon to inform the crown prince ourselves your contribution to this of course will be mentioned in full." His lord would be most pleased, as this should by itself eliminate one errant piece from the board and simultaneously place it on their side. The man opposite to him nodding in return, a wise man that one. One who knew how to amass power when he could and getting on the good side of the future Emperor was an excellent way to do so.

"Finally done with your game are you?" A voice called from behind. A young man walking into the room. "Good, these halls bore me and I've already retrieved the things I'm interested in."

"Of course, our return will not be delayed Lord Z.Z. As soon as the main event is concluded we will be on our way." A 'hmph' followed.

"What point is there in watching events unfold that were preordained? I will be on the couch of the jet."

The general watched the young man leave, he still had difficulty believing that was the Emperor's uncle. But it was undeniable at this point especially with how the Knight before him nodded along with every word, that could only be one of the imperial family.

 

[Nemesis]

Flickering lights and rumbling corridors greeted the Warden as he raced to the girl's cell. Dancing on the walls was the occasional suggestion of things lithe and serpentine, rushing ahead of him, as though he were in the bowels of some horrid beast, facing down some nightmarish parasite intent on devouring it from within. As he rounded the corner to her cell-

There was a moment's horror at the sight before him. The door to her cell had been torn clean off the hinges, as though a spike had been thrust through its center with horrendous force, leaving it bent and broken on the floor as if it were little more than a child's toy. A soft voice reached him from the darkness to his right, down the hallway.

"Poor... poor... baby..."

Lit by the crackling lights, there she was.

Dahlia Lycoris' body was surrounded by a cluster of thick, muscular tentacles, each tipped with a bloody, crimson claw, held in a loose embrace as she stroked their tips, soothingly. It was a complete sea change from the murderous, rasping convict who had been dragged to their door, and only ever opened her mouth to spit in their faces. Her eyes were full of softness and compassion, her brow smooth and unfurrowed as one hooked, chitinous nail brushed her cheek.

"Don't cry." She cooed, warmly.

"Don't cry... I'm here now. I won't let them hurt you any more. I promise."

The coils loosened somewhat, and she relinquished her hold on it. Her eyes met the man watching at the end of the corridor like some kind of voyeur... and narrowed, slightly.

"Let's get the others out of here." She said, still seemingly to the Gran Cher.

"Nobody deserves to die like this."

And like that she was gone, vanishing down a stairwell as she darted away. The... things that had been tunneling through the prison followed after her, and he could even feel them moving underfoot, snaking through the water pipes at his feet. The question was whether to pursue, or make his escape from the rapidly deteriorating situation...

---

Exterior

Round after round pulverized the surface of the Prison, the Guis now having circled back around and adding their own fiame launchers to the mix, sending spheres of death hurtling down at what thin anti-air fire existed. The Bio Ptera's mouth opened - and a crescent Sonic Blade was unleashed, ripping through a guard tower with the speed and precision of a bushido master's blade.

Machinegunfire from the defenders peppered the Bio Zoids, two of the oncoming Raptors being mowed down in a hail of bullets, their head units pulverized into almost unrecognizeable masses of metal, flesh, and bone as they collapsed into the mud. Their peers stomped over their bodies with little more than fury to fall upon the attackers as Wolfgang and his entourage burst through the gates into the central compound.

"Is it just me, or does this seem a little too easy?" He muttered to himself, seeing the sparse defenses as the group fanned out - but very quickly he understood the reason why.

Row upon row of tendrils snaked up through the earth, prying and tearing apart the KMFs that had yet to launch, or holding their legs and preventing them from moving. It sent a shiver up his spine that he hadn't experienced in a long, long time. Not since they'd first tried to put him in a Gran Cher, and that feeling of sickness had never quite managed to leave his mind.

"What the Hell is that?"

 

[MKR]

The Warden stumbled backwards, eyes wide with shock as he saw the prisoner of a lifetime. A claim to fame on a throne of needles just what in the world had they crammed in his prison. Nothing he wanted to share a building with was what, the reinforcements should be arriving soon yes so all he needed to do was hole up in a safe place yes. They would recapture the girl.

The threes just needed to hold on a bit longer!

---

The defense was in shatters, any late launching machines now impaled and leaking fluids which really aught to be inside their frames. The prison in all ways of the phrase, was overrun. The dark of the night lit by the burning effigies of would be jailors. The cat had left and the mice danced, but for how long was a whole new question. As while the tower fell into the concrete ground pulverizing itself and the surface with the impact through the cloud of dust it created beams of light fired. Not from the camp but far beyond, it appeared the Britannian forces were moving and the garrison was sending out the promised reinforcements.

Unless they wished to repeat the actions which had led to this situation, departing may be the wisest option.

 

[Nemesis]

"Wolfgang, is that-?"

The Bio Zoids roamed about the wreckage, probing for any prey that might have escaped them. Occasionally there was the distant dying scream or crunching metal as they found one trying to limp away. Even so, it churned Wolfgang's stomach as he saw something bulging from the prison's collapsed interior.

A dome of interlocked thorns and tendrils, wound tightly like a protective umbrella. As the debris was shoveled aside, it disgorged its contents -a hundred or so jumpsuited prisoners, all in states of elation or absolute terror. And looming over all of them was...

The red Gran Cher. Something about how it looked, the horrid mutation on its arm, the way they snaked back up into its body as if they contained no mass whatsoever, made Wolfgang recoil in fear. Dahlia emerged from the Antibody's cockpit, looking down at those below her, who gazed up with expressions that were equal parts gratitude and horror at the sight of the monster that had freed them.

"You're free now." She said, matter-of-factly.

"Those who seek to live among the stars, come with us. If not, go where you will. Just don't stay here."

The distant boom of explosions rattled Wolfgang out of his stupor. Already the Britannians were mobilizing. Hurriedly, he gestured to Dahlia, and the rest of the Bio-Zoids began beating a hasty retreat, some clutching trophies, some converts in trucks or stolen KMFs trailing behind, evidently eager to follow them wherever they went - after all, it couldn't possibly be worse than being under the heel of the Britannians.

Dahlia lingered a moment longer, experiencing a moment's unexplained uncertainty among the flames as she stroked the Gran Cher's mottled fingertips, thoughtfully. There was nothing to be afraid of, she thought to herself. She was free now.

...

...Right?