The Wastelands [Closed-RP]

[Arcalane]

Location: Adelphus, Bunker 74
Date: 08:51 AM Local Time, December 5th, 2066

Nine years since the start of the War[/i]

~~

An average day, in Bunker 74. Day was a term limited in use - inhabitants of Bunker 74 had not seen daylight for at least 9 years.

The bunker had been well stocked for those 9 years, and everyone had survived. Despite being a civilian bunker, you could say one thing - the government had actually cared about those who would be sheltering in it, and more precisely, those who were now.

Three days ago, the 'counters had signalled that radiation levels were low enough for near-permanent exposure.

The group of six had been chosen. Assembled before the self-appointed leader of the bunker, who had seen it through thick and thin, carefully managing supplies and the resources available to ensure survival. So far, he had done well.

But now, he said, was the time to leave the bunker. It was time to reclaim the surface, now that it was safe.

He - and his five most trusted friends - had chosen six volunteers to go topside, based on age, experience and occupation pre-Fall. Looking down at the list showed the following names, each in a different style of handwriting.
 

Paladin Sheppard
Johnathan R. Miller
Hayden Khail
Dus`Su Eight
Federal, Parsons
Malakin Greymane

Hopefully, they would have all received word of their selection to go topside.

~~

The notice was simple enough - the six volunteers had been summoned to the monitoring center - the most important part of the Bunker - for a meeting regarding the surface.

~~

He waited patiently in the monitoring center for the arrivals. The most interesting feature is that he is a 6'2" tall mechanoid - ie, robot or android - obviously not designed professionally as many parts do not match up. Several unidentifiable pieces of equipment make up a significant portion of him - and although most of him is in proportion (ie, sized and matched, for the most part), none of it really goes together, right down to the kneecap plates and optical sensors.

He sat patiently in one of the few chairs in the sparse room, watching the open door patiently. The room's walls were covered in monitors and input panels, an eerie, gentle bleeping and blipping as the automated systems monitored the life support, power and recycling systems.

[Magic]

Dormitories, Bunker 74

His eyes are closed.

"--fifth face, third row; third face, first column--" Johnathan kept most of his attention on the rubix cube as he went on his way to the station. The rest in an almost automatic sense of direction. Down the hallway, past the door, taking a left turn, dodging in and out of the crowd, into a cramped elevator, past another door and down another hallway. "Right, right, left, right, left, right--" he skillfully weaves, corridor to corridor.

Nine years.

He stopped to open his emerald eyes to look at a console monitor beside him, showing the outside view of the bunker's vault door; firmly shut, and collecting nine years worth of dust.

"I'm sure a flame tank is just waiting for me outside because I'm begging to have my juices cooked. Would save me and the rest of us from a slower death."

Morbid curiousity, he does check the outside view cameras, datajack into the console. To his disappointment, there was nothing moving for miles on end, except the occassional dust devil, which would mean it was hot and dry outside as well as being relatively devoid of cloud cover.

Slower death it is. How cruel are you, fate.

He closed his eyes again.

There was no time, long ago, where he was not the least bit bitter. He was, is and always will be. Being a lead engineer in weapons design only made it worse. By now, droids most likely carry a warmer personality, as synthetic as they are.

That, however, does not stop him from always being right. Aside from still being able to multitask, his mind is still as sharp as he is bitter, which is another constant for him. So far, at least. He is getting old and he knows it. He noticed white hairs this morning.

Nine years.

Of being bitter. As far as bitter felines go, they are wrathful and antisocial. In nine years he has made quite a few enemies, and even fewer friends. He knew no one on the list, and they don't know him either. So he pondered on his chances of survival with five strangers and no decent weaponry to cope with irradiated mutant cockroach-anthromorphs who most likely survived the blasts.

Nil. Wonderful.

Nine years.

"Nine years." Johnathan kept at the rubix cube as he approached the open door of the station, and saved the last move. He turned right, and without opening his eyes, "Nine years of playing with this rubix cube, I've had enough." he said, as he set it on the table and clicked in the last move.

[bill]

Parsons Federal walked in, soda bottle in hand. He slumped into the chair closest to the door. Federal never slept well, and he took this oppertunity to get a few minutes of relaxation, after a twenty-five hour security stint. It was useless, especially given the extraordinary amount of caffine he drank. Federal had no idea why his name was on the list. He couldn't think of any situation where he had made a name for himself. Owing to his firearm experience, he had taken a rather uneventful post in security, as architects and construction workers were not in high demand in a nuclear bunker. He had used his gun a total of one time, in an incident that he honestly could not recall. Still slumping in his chair, he thought to himself, "This could be interesting.".

[Paladin Sheppard]

Room belonging to the 2nd/514 D company 2nd platoon 3rd squad
Paladin looked over the note for the 100th time as he velcroed the BDU jumpsuit and buckled on his armor.
"Well I better move it I guess" Pal grabbed his sidearm and holster and walked out and into the corridor, down the hall and into the meeting room.
"Sir Sgt Sheppard reporting as ordered SIR!" Pal not quite bellowed at the android overseer.



*edited as I rushed the first post before I went to work*

[Malakin]

Tango-sector security sub-station
Malakin had been sitting in the darkend security station for the last hour, busy playing his last life on what he thought was the last computer game left in the world.. he had only managed to get it working by pretending the computer was borked and getting permission to reformat it, allowing him to install the older opperating system onto a new partition.. Being in the security department had its perks, usually him and his mates were the first to hear any wild rumours or rule changes passed along by other people.. In this case he had heard that he was "volunteered" to join the first people in the last 9 years to leave the Bunker.. wow.. And now looking at his watch he realised he could be a few minutes late for the most important meeting in the bunkers history..

Quickly kicking the computer off at the powerstrip, grabbing his jacket, malakin thanked his lucky stars the monitoring center is only a sector or two away..

Running down the halls, taking the stairs two at a time, Jumping the security barriers,
Skidding around a corner, Malakin arrives at the monitoring center breathless.
Now a tad unsure about the whole thing, he checks his watch and looks up and down the hall.. Here we go.. Just in time.. He pushes the call button and enters as the doors slide open with a "swish"..

"Uhh, Hi ? Not late am I ?"

Seeing the other occupants otherwise occupied, malakin makes him self comfortable on a chair in a corner and awaits the start, absent mindedly playing with and twisting his cap..

[Azlan]

Medical Faculty A

Lazily, blue eyes the color of sapphires drifted back and forth, following the path of a goldfish as it swam through the aquarium.

"You are completely content swimming in this prison aren't you?"

The canine-like creature put down his pen and tapped a claw against the glass.  The fish immediately swam to the glass and drifted their, using its fins to maintain its position.  This goldfish was the oddest one he had ever taken care of.

His eyes drifted down to the small personal computer next to him, with a thought he accessed the mail system and reviewed his messages.  One caught his notice and his eyes widened.

"After nine years... probabilistic logic would lead to this inevitable conclusion, but it is still almost like something unimaginable.  If only all uncertainities in life could be functions of desire!"

Looking once more at the goldfish, he could not help but smile, "no longer will we share the same fate little one, this fish get's to swim in the ocean once more!"

Removing the plug of the datacord from the computer and his own datajack, he slipped it into his pocket.  Donning his labcoat he turned to leave the lab.

Stopping in front of the mirror, he made a quick adjustment to his tie and straightened his labcoat.  The gray fur made him appear to be a canine, but the brown stripes running down his tail spoke of something else entirely.

He trotted off down the hall towards destiny.

[Suwako]

Meeting room.

Dus`Su Eight  blankly stared infront of it. After production Dus`Su's preformed well above standard. Dus`Su eight is however the only android of it's type as every new scout android was build with different goals. Dus`Su was the replacement of Du's'Su three as it malfunctioned during it's system checkup frying it's whole grid.  Dus`su is primairly lighter then it's cousins the Dus'su Nine, seven and six. However it's heavier then dus'su Three as It was based on a feminite design and fly capable design. More the Dus`Su line discontinued after Dus`su ten's failure to operate. Dus'su 2 is an heavy hovering orb, Dus`su 1 is battlemech without AI and Dus'su four is a battle droid with limited AI that was the only one  build more then once.

[Magic]

Bum with a soda drink.
The epitome of a military rookie.
Your typically dysfunctional security-man.
Geek. Period.
A scrawny-looking droid.

And himself, of all people, the rudest and most bitter curmudgeon this side of Bunker 74.

Jonathan examined the people entering in silence, but his thoughts spit forth an overwhelmingly loud and rude brainfart. He can't figure out why he's not laughing, this was pathetic enough to be funny. The overseer still his wicked sense of humour, it seems. Ultimately, it only reassured the notion of a slow and agonizing death either as roadkill for some hungry mutated buzzards or worse, of the mad ravings of his (possibly) ignorant teammates.

At least, he would die laughing, if only because he thought it was so pathetic. What was it that Freud said about jokes working because there's an element of truth in them? Indeed, he will laugh. Laugh like he had never laughed before; and likely, he hadn't.

Jonathan begins thoroughly examining the droid.

Dus'Su Eight. Odd--

Barring that train of thought, it seems that he might have to work on the droid. The chassis looks familiar somewhat, pre-apocalypse line of lightly armored androids? No, seems newer than that. Scout, perhaps? Might still be compatible with newer components and armour if he's lucky. Definately more armour. Better to hide behind something that won't blow up at the slightest touch of plasma. Scout or not, it has to at least feasibly protect itself and sentient organics.

Maybe a design similar to the archives. Prototype reconnaisance/first-strike? Light trooper? The humanoid design is too vulnerable, perhaps modify his limbs into an arachnoid form?

Jonathan loses himself, pondering on the finer points of making flimsy pieces of synthetics into warmachines, all the while staring at the droid.

[Arcalane]

The Commander laughs as the Cube is set down, focusing his good eye - taken from an infrared security camera - on the Doctor.

"I'm not at all surprised, Miller, nine years with that confounded block would drive me into cyberpsychosis." He then turns to Sgt. Sheppard, shaking his head slightly. "Keep a lid on it, Sheppard, the techs in Subsector Nine probably heard that, and if you keep it up like that topside, anyone else certainly will, and there's going to be some that are unfriendly."

Turning to look at Malakin as he enters, the Commander gives the thumbs up. "Dead on time."

With the entry of the final doctor, he starts.

"Now you're all here, down to business. You six have been chosen, for various reasons, to be the first to go back to the surface after nine years inside this bunker. Nine years, and finally you all get a breath of fresh air - uncontaminated, and for the most part, healthy. There is still minor residual radiation, but it is not hazardous. For the time being, however, the impact sites are still heavily irradiated and thus unsafe."

"Enough of the safety warnings, though. Your primary objective is as follows - find another bunker and make contact with any inhabitants, if there are any. Secondly, I would advise gaining access to the nearby military base to acquire some better weaponry and some transportation. Try and radio back as soon as you do - we can't afford to leave any extra resources for anyone who might be hostile to us to find and use them."

[Paladin Sheppard]

Meeting Room
"Sorry sir, I guess I'm a little hyped up" Pal turns bright red and sits down to listen to the brefing. "Which bunker are we aiming for?" Pal mentaly calculates where the nearest military base was. "And that base its where the rest of the 514th was stationed isn't it sir?

[Suwako]

Dus`su Eight eyes focus on the commander. Eventough the soulless red lense can't detect emotions.  Dus'suc main speaker activates and a slightly robotic male voice fills the room. "In case of hostile fire are we allowed to shoot to kill?" Dus'su eights eyes takes miniature pictures of his companionship. "May I receive Intel on the command ladder?"

[Malakin]

"Yeah, whos in charge of the group?"
*Malakin sits up in his chair now the meeting has started*
"Also, wouldnt this military base we are talking about be one of the first places they would have nuked ?"

[Magic]

"The military is stupid," Jonathan pauses, for emphasis, "But not that stupid; they would at least have underground levels if not similar bunkers capable of withstanding a direct nuclear blast, given that they saw the war coming. Unfortunately some entrances might be blocked by debris, or worse, guarded by surviving military personnel."

Jonathan presses down on one square of the rubix cube, accessing a holomapper showing a map of the region, pre-apocalypse. "The bunker is shown in red, the closest base in yellow, the shortest route is through the city" Jonathan then 'traces' a route towards the city, then the closest military installation. He tags several buildings in the city with green. "We might want to check the nearby police station in the city first, though. It would be very likely that there are functional or salvagable police droids since they're normally equipped with EMP shielding due to locally available weaponry. Kinetic weaponry, and hopefully some armour might also be available there. Then there's the hospital, for medical supplies; and finally some factories, supermarkets along the way. Not betting on there being any useful electronics though, EMP from the nuclear blasts likely fried everything, including vehicles. We're walking all the way to the base."

Jonathan leaves the holomapper on, "Frankly, I would advise against there being a leader in the group, a small democracy would be better, so our best interests are all fulfilled as much as possible. I'd hate for there to be a testosterone induced power struggle, don't you?"

He looks at everyone, then closes his eyes again.

"So, now that my views are covered, any alternative plans? Suggestions?"

[Azlan]

"It depends on the military base, not all installations were targets for nuclear strike.  No one possessed enough weaponry to hit every single target in existence.  The base should provide our best bet for any salvageable gear not rendered useless by EMP, most consumer electronics don't come with shielding.  Also, as he said, bunkers that likely protected a good deal of material." 

He pushed his glasses back into place, merely a frame with thin polymer lens for show, as he did not need them to see, "most of us need to consider consumables for this excursion, we can only carry so much and we never know what will be encountered out there.  Given the half-life of fissionable material, after nine years most intermediate weight isotopes are not a problem, but higher and minor actinides will still be present in soil and therefore the vegetation.  Such material has prevailed itself within the environment and likely will be found in all organisms."

Hayden stands and ponders for a moment before continuing, "what has already been mentioned is very logical, though I debate the usefulness of supermarkets after nine years and constant radioactive exposure, little will be useable, same for most existing medical supplies not properly vaulted and shielded against radiation.  Transportation will definitely be limited down to the more conventional, non-electrical based vehicles... such as bicycles and such."

He turned away from the assembled group and raised a finger in the air, "democratic methods seem best, rational minds should hopefully prevail, but one cannot always say when subject to duress over time."

Hayden decided to make a dramatic turn, bowing his head to push his glasses up his muzzle, "what says the rest of you, eh?"

[Arcalane]

The Commander nods, then pulls up another map, albeit low resolution and only in black and white.

"The bunker's satlink - which links us to satellites - is intact and functional, thankfully, so I can provide you with a more accurate map of the city. Un[/i]fortunately, residual radiation makes transmission difficult and thus we only have poor-quality maps, and only of the city. Many of the larger buildings were knocked over by shockwaves, and a great degree of the Alpha Skyway - the city's main transport route - has collapsed across the city."

"There were three bases throughout the city, although at least one has almost certainly been annihilated, going by the maps recieved. The remaining two facilities are intact for the most part and a majority of them are, as Doctor Miller pointed out, subterranean - much like this bunker. The likelihood of any survivors is minimal, however."

He turns to the other 'mech.

"You are authorised to use lethal force if necessary, do not hesitate to defend yourselves - not all survivors will be friendly."

"Kinetic weaponry is your best bet, as most are older and thus EMP immune as they have no EMP-damagable parts. Laser and Plasma weaponry will probably be available within the military bunkers, as will any Particle Weaponry on Vehicles. Railguns and Raildrivers will be little more than decorative scrap, however."

[Suwako]

Dus'su Eight nods "acknowledged, My programming contains enough weapon data to operate standard and semi-standard weaponary."  Dus'su looks around the group once more "Are these organics all familiar with weaponary?"

[bill]

"I can use a high caliber sniper fine, but I'm not sure of the practicality of that. What are we expecting to be up against?"

[Paladin Sheppard]

Looking downcast Paladin looks at the overseer "You mean it doesn't know who's been maintaining its weapon systems?" Turning to the android scout "I'm currently listed as an marksman in just about every small arm the army has in it inventory."

[Suwako]

"Listed, what about those three organics?" Dus'su looks at the remaining three, altough he's not programmed to know any irrelevant data or entities. Dus'su doesn't even know anyone but the commander and some other high officers and he only knows their names and faces no background information at all to conserve data. Dus'su is currently running on battery power while in the bunker. It's main power supply consisting out of the lights within the bunker and weekly recharges. While being more efficient then many other androids and droids Dus'su is  wasting energy by talking.  can however run truly independently outside in the wind and sun. Which where his best features. Dus'su is able to walk much faster then duo pod organics but his legs remained a pair for energy efficiency and lower weight as well as maneuverability

[Malakin]

"I can use a wide variety of small arms, some explosives as well but this is all VR training, the only guns i have actually fired in the live fire range are the Falcon pistol and the PDPW-24 (a small plasma carbine)"

*he turns to look at the commander*

"Sir, what equipment, apart from weaponry is this bunker able to offer us? Maybe one of the supply trucks left in the equipment bay?"

[Magic]

Jonathan shoots a glance at the droid.

"I -make- weaponry, I don't -shoot- them, test-firing is done by mindless brutish grunts with classified clearance specifically assigned to the task. Theoretical knowledge tends to differ from application, it would seem; and I'm liable to shoot myself in the foot. I generally thought VR training was a waste of time, and then there's the fact that some idiot might have messed with the design we were test-firing, and cause the weapon to quite literally blow up in the grunt's face. I didn't exactly want to volunteer to die that way." He pauses, looking then at the others, with his eyes closed; "I'll leave the shooting to you ablative distractions."

[Azlan]

Hayden crosses his arms in front of him and grumbles as he thinks to himself, The only being of reasonable intellect in this team is a complete jerk... this is going to be a long trip.

The thylacine dipped his head just enough that the light in the room hit the glasses in such a way to give them a mirrored opaque appearance, obscuring his eyes, "I don't have any appreciable skill with weapons... unless you consider the biological and genetic ordinace I've had the pleasure of developing.   Other then my stint at the fencing club back at the university, I'll have to defer to the rest of you in this area."

Pausing for a brief moment, he continued, "military training is not a paramount consideration for government researchers... it is not even tertiary.  I've spend a fair amount of time in self-defense, but hand to hand confrontations with something like military or civil defense robots is known to go badly.  So hopefully you all won't be too put off if my firearm accuracy is subpar... VR training used to be so fun... oh wait that wasn't training..."

Hayden snaps his finger at Malakin's question, "I do so love the practical minds, even if they do lack sufficient upper brain functions to be interesting... yes, what equipment can we expect to receive?"

[Arcalane]

[Space reserved for an official RP post, coming some time this weekend, once the new CPU is acquired and fitted.]

[Malakin]

Slouching back in his chair he mutters under his breath "Just because you have actually had an education.."
while glaring at both Jonathan and Hayden...

[Paladin Sheppard]

"Hey Malakin, you got your falcon on you?" Pal asks the fox security officer.

[Malakin]

"Yeah. don't worry, i have been looking after her." *Unclasps the gun from his hip holster, leaning over he offers the unloaded pistol to Paladin*

[Paladin Sheppard]

"Ahh cool, I finaly made that new slide and sight mount for you" Pulling a small toolkit and a pistol slide from his pocket Pal changes some parts on the falcon. Pal hands the pistol back "Should be less chance of it jaming now and you can put a scope and a laser-sight on it."

[bill]

"Never liked the Falc' that much", muttered Parsons. "A tad bit jumpy on the recoil. I use my old Rockwell SixtySix", he said, pulling out an old looking pistol with a mounted flashlight.

[Magic]

We would need better armaments soon. Pistols won't do well in the long run, with what being just emergency defense; would be all too ironic if we died to irradiated mutant cockroaches.

Jonathan kept his thoughts to himself.

He knew the bunker had neither the resources nor the facilities to manufacture firearms. At first he had wished to visit the factories in the city to see if the assembly can be reprogrammed but then he had answered that question himself. None of the city's heavy machinery had EMP shielding. That left hollow husks of metal, stripped out off their vital circuitry. Would take months to restore just one factory, if we can even find basic components.

They gave us the chance to survive a nuclear war, but not to rebuild. Brilliant.

Back to pistols. Specifically the Rockwell 66 that Parsons just brought out. Old gun; really old gun, definately pre-apocalypse--they stopped manufacturing those when I was still a rookie. It has significantly less recoil than most would be inclined to believe, an unexpected (but not unwelcome) side-effect of the weapon's weight, which softens the impact of the discharge. I'd give him that, at least, but doesn't that thing have a tendency to jam--stovepipe? What's with the flashlight?

"If everyone's done bringing out their tools of masochistic intent," He coughs, "Can we turn our attention to more pressing matters at hand? How many rations and supplies will we be issued, and how long will it last us, minus the droid?"

[Arcalane]

"I was wondering when we'd get to that.." cut in the Commander. "The usual supplies are being issued in terms of rations. You should have about a month's worth... not the best stuff, admittedly, but enough to last you that long. I assume you're all familiar with the rations."

"Now, in terms of other supplies, you've got free run of the armoury.. there's not much in there that'll help, but it's better than nothing at all. I think there's a crate of Grade 5 - fairly average, with no lean towards rapid fire or heat levels - Laser Pistols, a couple of Plasma Pistols, several kinetic weapons - old-world assault rifles, tops - and if you're very lucky, I think there might be one[/i] sniper rifle. We're not sure how much ammo it'll have though."

He stands, gesturing toward the door. "I presume you know where the armoury is, ladies and gentlemen. After you. I'll have to unlock it myself as well as disable the security protocols that I put in place, but that shouldn't take more than a minute or two."