AI WAR -- OPENING MOVES

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Apothecary Bruce

Shipwright with No Yards
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per week
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
  3. Prestige
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Primarily Prefer Male
Genres
Science Fiction, Horror.
AI Space Station - [810-1-1297-18]
4km long (central structure) - 34km long/wide (widest ring)
38km tall
794421ac3ae321b55fc9f35706cc7733.jpg

Research Station
Captured Population (Est.): 600
Defenses: Unknown.
Positioning - over the planet Caprica [ Tomb World, Radiation-Saturated, Biosphere Salvaged by Unknown Actors ]



Teleporter Lock-On: Achieved.
Boarding Team: Assembling...






The Pathfinder Station is the home of the aptly named Pathfinder Alliance, a loose coalition of heroes and warriors from across many universes, once imprisoned aboard their station by the robotic forces which constructed it.

Yet, despite its apparent uniqueness and usefulness, the Pathfinder is merely one station in an entire navy of starships and space stations, and with a war between the Pathfinder Alliance and the AI on the close horizon, the Alliance will need more manpower to help them in their cause, as well as more infrastructure.


With data sold to them by an anonymous member of Interdimensional Security Solutions, another of the four major dimension-hopping factions, the Pathfinder Alliance has the location of another AI space station, of the same model and likely the same function. Capturing another station could greatly bolster the Alliance in nearly every way, and thus this operation is of extreme importance.


However, the AI have been ramping up their own war machine as well, and with their army and navy on edge, as well as their powerful commanders, anything could happen…



In one of the Pathfinder Station's few teleporter rooms, waited a man in a flowing black cape and long-eared cowl. To many, this appearance was strange and gaudy, but to equally many people, it was the visage of terror. He was the dark knight, Batman. Though he was capable of working alone, the latter half of his career as the caped crusader had taught him much about not only leadership, but the vast expanse of the world around him. When he began his war on crime, he was fighting mob bosses, chasing down informants, cleaning up the Gotham City Police Department.

Now, this massive war against A.I. wishing death to the multiverse? This was Tuesday, even if he was smart enough to believe the stakes. Very rarely, however, could he think of a situation where he didn't have at least a few of his friends to help him. He'd have to get this 'Pathfinder Alliance' into shape, one way or another. Else they were all doomed.

Looming over the controls to the teleporter, Batman waited for a team to coalesce. He had sent out the call roughly an hour prior...these people were slow. He'd have to work on that too. To most, this would be an unworkable travesty, but to the dark knight, this was a challenge. Outnumbered, outgunned, working with scraps in the face of impossible odds? That was when he did his best work.
He wouldn't be going with this team. A small metal table was set beside him, loaded with various gadgets. He would be directing them from the station, waiting in case of emergency. He would build a team out of whoever stepped through that door.

Now all he had to do was wait.


AI WAR -- OPENING MOVES
------------------------------------------
@Otomos - Kaathe Oolacile
@Girania the Knightess - Anri
@The Wanderer - Ed
@ThePotatoGod - Michinaga Azuma/Buffa
 

MICHINAGA AZUMA
Interaction: @Apothecary Bruce @Girania the Knightess @The Wanderer @Otomos

The first one to step through the door to the Teleporter Room was an asian man clad in some form of black and blue uniform. One that looks designed for a militant group, with a gold yellow colored logo patched onto the left arm. The uniform had a large collar paired with black leather straps that act as braces around the uniform's chest. His slacks were outfitted with kneecaps, which is paired with his boots, where the rest of the slacks fit in. Though his top was unbuttoned, revealing a purple shirt underneath.

His demeanor was that of a common thug, but one that has seen countless battles by the looks of it. Glancing around to no one but the man in the black horned cloak, Michinaga cricked his neck as he asked a simple question.

"So. What's the mission?" He asked, assuming that the Bat here has a reason for the call. To be perfectly honest, the bull's been craving some action ever since he's been found. Whatever he has in store, he'll gladly take. Even if it means sending him on a suicide mission. Well, the DGP's been giving nothing but that anyway with each and every passing season. Then Geats comes in and saves the day like usual.

He clicks his tongue to himself. The thought of Geats coming in out of nowhere irritates Michinaga. Ever since he got into the DGP, that damn fox has been winning games left and right. It's infuriating. Well, as long he doesn't see anymore fox themed assholes, ally or otherwise, he should be fine.




[/div]
 
Anri

The next one to enter the room was a child with a rifle. Now, perhaps the Batman was used to the sight of young people fighting bad guys even to such a scale as this war demands, but for anyone else that had not met or known Anri long enough, the loud, overly cheerful girl might seem a bit much.

"Quest! Quest! Quest! New Quest! Templar Anri is present!"

For those who don't know, this little girl dressed in fur and now charting two rifles on her back is known as Anri. She is a veteran of a different interdimensional war, but that is a story to be told over food and drink. For now, she awaits the next mission for this conflict.
 
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On the target AI Space Station…

As with other stations involved in this multiverse conflict, this place had its prisoners. A collection of summoned individuals for a variety of uses, stocked up and queued for whatever purpose the AI happened to need them for on any given moment. Until such a time where they are needed, these individuals are kept captive in holding cells, deprived of anything that could possibly allow them chances to resist or escape. Some are stripped down to their smallclothes, while others were not even allowed those. These poor unfortunate prisoners are left with little to no hope of escape, and are likely going to meet their end here, in this unfamiliar place.

Among these prisoners was a dark elf. A male as beautiful as a female, lying on the floor of his cell with an elegant calmness. This dark elf was left without his armor or his weapons. His name is Kaathe Oolacile. He is from a world with nowhere near the technological level of this space station, but given his current situation, he had already figured that he was a captive.

'Fate', he thought. 'Why do you still toy with me? Was one conflict between worlds not enough? How many times must I participate in these moments for your entertainment? How many times will you uproot my life on a whim? How many times do you wish for me to ask these same questions before I become boring to you?'

The truth behind his calmness is that he had accepted that he and everyone else were mere toys to Fate and Destiny. Kaathe had lived most of his life accepting every insane, improbable, annd impossible event that he found himself in. He cares not to deny what happens to himself, as the cruelty of reality is that everything is boiled down to whatever Fate finds entertaining. After all, a toy is only as fun as a child believes it to be, and when it is fun no longer, it either put away or thrown away.

Despite being held in this cell, Kaathe knew that Fate was still playing with him. Instead of allowing him to simply wait in silence, it saw fit to remind him of his former comrades. Those he fought alongside in the past. Those who lived to tell the stories of their battles, and those who did not. These memories did not instill a want to escape, but served only as an attempt to torment him. He had seen this scenario too many times. This sudden flow of memories would not be enough to have him cry out and beg for one last chance to see them again.

'O Fate. You've done this before. I can feel it now. There is a storm coming.'
 
Ed

Ed was doing the usual Ogryn thing when he had gotten the call.

Eating grub.

A large leg of a creature that had been grilled, seasoned and utterly juicy as Ed took large chunk after chunk with every bite. Chasing it with a swig of some juice and starting on the side of potatoes as he devoured his meal, the strange device on his hip that was given to him suddenly turning on and beeping. It was a simple device that someone had told him, that if it turned on, he was needed for a mission. The beeping would get rapid to indicate he was going the right way.

He liked the simple nature of it. Easy to understand than some of the more complicated devices. So standing up from his meal, the robots already gathering to clean up, Ed lumbered off with the device held in his hand, following it to the armory where the nice person handing out gear allowed Ed to grab his Stubber, the shield and mace that he knew and loved. Simple weapons for an Ogryn, and only really capable of being used by an Ogryn.

Filling his pack with ammo, Ed followed the rapid beeping until he got to the room with the trio gathered. The funny suit man, the little lil'un and some new person. Ed towered over them all, but he still saluted the funny suit man. "Ed, present! Sah!" He called out in that deep near Germanic-ish accented voice of his as he crouched to be at eye level.

@ThePotatoGod @Girania the Knightess @Apothecary Bruce
 
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Don Quixote

The last person to enter the room was a blond young woman, carrying a giant lance in one hand and an... ipad in the other? An odd choice for something to bring,

"Verily, I, Don Quixote, am here!" She grandiosely declare, her eyes carrying an odd sparkle within. A couple of those present might remember her as the one who had barged in alongside Deadpool, yelled out some nonsense about being heros, and then promptly left. "So, what will be our valiant quest?"

Well, that made two that were eager to hear of this mission.

@ThePotatoGod @Girania the Knightess @Apothecary Bruce @The Wanderer
 
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Harem

Harem woke up on a narrow bench in a metal cell. No windows just dim artificial light. She mentally kicked herself for getting captured and checked for her comms choker and gear. Gone, whoever had captured her had decided the Ripley look suited her. Granted it did suit her but it annoyed her she hadn't gotten the chance to choose it herself. At least it wasn't cold. The blond woman sat up and swung here legs over the edge of her bunk searching the spartan for any potential route of escape. Nothing obvious thought she does notice a camera, which she gestures at rudely, and an electronic door.

"Hey! Can anyone hear me? Where am I!" Harem shouts out and starts pounding on the door "What do you want with me!"

@Apothecary Bruce @Otomos
 
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