StarCraft® II

The Gates of Hell (RP; Episode 1)

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A message appears on my communicator adressing an issue of a speciming being killed. I sadly abandon my cereal and head to the armory doning my armor. I figured that someone closer had responded to the call, but in case they needed backup I headed towards the habitation center. (sorry delete post by mistake)
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*Roger that Commervac* I say through the communicator. *ETA to habitation center 2 minutes tell me if things get serious, Zogson out*
Edited by Sixel on 2/14/2013 7:17 PM PST
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"Fine... Hope... You're... Fine... With... My... Consuming... Feederlings." Savage says, referring to his breakfast today.
Edited by ShadowFury on 2/14/2013 7:23 PM PST
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I chuckled. 'The Feederlings are a different matter entirely. They are not my spawn...' I look at Commervac once again, raising an eyebrow and pointing with a talon at the newcomer, seemingly marking him.
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"Good... I... Plan... Their... Consumption... Six... A... Day..." Savage says while he slowly reforms behind the man-Zerg.
Edited by ShadowFury on 2/14/2013 7:28 PM PST
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I wake up in my bunk, the time reading 10:30 am. I was damn lucky I really didn't need to do anything as of yet and I stand up, heading to the mess hall for some good old pancakes, eggs, sausage, and ham.
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After I finish reading, I whip together a quick concoction. A slightly varied version of the last. The 10th attempt at an agent to shut down a Zerg nervous system. I radio Chris.

{Hey, sir, mind giving me a Zerg to test out the latest version of this thing on? Also, if it's okay, I'd like to show you my progress. Also, your daughter dropped by earlier and was acting odd, just thought you should know.}
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I smile briefly as I hear Zelia's voice in my mind; but then as I take in her words, I get a bit more concerned.

Well...better go hang around the Hatchery...I guess... I thought as I weaved through the brush. The walls of the huge, organic structure loomed before me. I could hear hissing as well as other familiar zerg noises and their speech. I stayed on the side I was, and kept in the brush. If things were getting iffy with the Specimen, friggin Commervac was prolly somewhere nearby due to Dad's orders, I'm sure. Always with the sedatives...

(I gtg for the night; Must sleep...keep ze rp on the down-low, I don't want to see an entire new thread up by morning, xD)
Edited by Mockingjay on 2/14/2013 7:32 PM PST
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"Oh dear, my inventory is low on Umojan Beer. I need to make sure I order another shipment."

She looks at the wristband. It was quite a long time since it alerted her of anything but that was to be expected. After all, a civilian who served alcohol wasn't exactly paramount to a research facility besides lifting spirits.

"I wonder if I should have continued in the marine corps..."
Edited by smylez on 2/14/2013 7:34 PM PST
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Reaching the lunch room, I grab my meal and sit down, enjoying every bite with a sip of delicious orange juice. The syrup, strawberry today, was really good, and I turn on my radio for stray traffic.
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(LAST POST FOR THE NIGHT-for me, :P)

/Christopher/

Oh god what is she doing now...I thought as I recieved a transmission from Edmund. Instead of immediately responding to that part of his message, I answered him in order.

"Just fill out a request for the men down at the Encampment. They're typically bored, you can just make a mission request for them to capture you a Zergling or Roach or something like that. I don't want you testing your...things, on my more unique specimen. Make that clear in the mission request please...those men hardly ever know what they are doing sometimes...

As for seeing your progress...sure, just give me a bit of time. I need to finish what I am doing, and I am planning on lunch with my daughter an hour or two from now. Sometime after that would be find and dandy with me."
Edited by Mockingjay on 2/14/2013 7:44 PM PST
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Col. Eric Anderson stood over, or more correctly: beside, his power armor. The powdered graphite dispenser in his left hand and a small remote diagnostic tool in his right hand.
"How does that look QWERTY?"

The male voice of the system AI came from the far wall. "Friction in that joint has been reduced by 30%. May I make an inquiry Colonel?"

Eric looked up in surprise. "Sure."

"Why do you maintain your own combat armor? There are technicians whose job it is to maintain the armor you poses, as well as all the armor in this facility. Do you lack faith in thier abilities?"

Eric let out a small laugh. "No QWERTY. I just know that I have a higher standard for my equipment."

"Is the regulation matinee insufficient? Before you started this maintenance your armor was within acceptable operational parameters."

"That is true. But now it exceeds those parameters. I can operate the armor at greater than 100% and have a significantly reduced risk of equipment failure. As far as the technicians go... How long did I spend on this streamlining?"

"Five standard hours."

"That is four hours longer than a technician would have spent on it, and in exchange I can operate at increased efficiency in the event of an emergency. The only comparison I can think of for you is increasing the efficiency of your cooling systems so that you can overclock with less risk of overheating."

"I believe I understand your reasoning."
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{Yes sir, thanks sir. I'll radio you again when it's ready.} I say, heading down to the Encampment, when I arrive, I talk to a man there.

"Excuse me, but I need a Zerg...a non-unique specimen for an experiment. And nothing of any value to this place."
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I took a deep breath as a Spine crawler wrapped around the newcomer, picking him up and placing him in a tree away from the Hive. I stepped away from the Larvae, sitting down with a smile. I speak English, chuckling a little. "Astrid... you can come out soon... Heh... what're you gonna do this time? Trying to find another Larva just to screw with someone again?"
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I take a bite of ham, my pistol at my waste. I usually didn't take the capture jobs. I was OK with raiding neighboring facilities though. I mean, that was what these Dominion bastards deserved. In retrospect, Tarsonis was a repeat of the mining ship, only on a much larger scale. If only Things hadn't gone south...Taking a bite of hash browns I'd gone back to get some of, I sigh. Oh well, once I was done with this job, I could go indiscreet again, laying low and planet hopping.
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IC post might help.
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(reserved for my response to SlnderBurrito tomorrow)
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