SPACE STATIONS > TRIM

Rescue [Rhi, TRIM subjects, TRIM staff, open]

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Chronicler:
((OOC: I'm gonna say that the TRIM forces should provide some serious resistance, so I'm gonna pick up playing them and insert one of my characters to lead them.))

A surprise security inspection. Inconvenient for the staff, but routine enough. Agent Andrew Amity took his job very seriously. Protocols and security measures existed for a reason. There were individuals in this facility powerful enough not only to destroy the entire station if given the opportunity, but with abilities and knowledge which could pose a very serious threat to the entire corporation.

Handling the security for an interplanetary corporation was enough of a challenge without the necessity of tracking down such resources.

"What measures are in place to prevent a military strike against the station?" he asked, looking around at a room full of cameras, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

"Pardon sir?" the head of security asked, an older gentleman in a black uniform.

"I said, what measures are in place to prevent a military strike against the station?" he repeated, a careful edge of condescending annoyance allowed to creep into his iron voice.

"The stations movements are randomized and all communication encoded sir, it is unlikely any third party could even locate us. We do have a small team of short range fighter ships as well as external turrets, but really, who would ever attack us?"

As if purely out of some sense of irony on the part of the universe, the alarms sounded at that moment. The ships had come out of nowhere. Not one fleet, but two. Within moments they had begun boarding the station.

"It seems, captain, that they would," Amity said, unperturbed by the klaxon now sounding around them. "I suppose it will fall to me to clean up this mess. You can be certain that my review of your security will be... less than favorable. I suggest that should you survive this invasion, you would do well to update your resume."

His steps echoed in the hall, rapid, but even and controlled, as he departed the security control room.

"All sectors on full lock down," he said calmly as he walked, knowing the microphone would pick up every word. "Have the Halion gas prepared for all containment cells. Activate in each room before they can be opened. I would prefer to eliminate our human resources here rather than lose them. Gas any room in which we have unsecured human resources immediately, as well as the landing bays."

No sooner had the order been given than both invading fleets would find a colorless, unscented gas filtering into the air around them. A gas which would cause bleeding of the lungs and soft tissues within seconds, followed by death.

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Clara took a deep breath and removed a helmet from one of the fallen guards. <Gas. They'd rather kill us than have us escape.>

GIR:
[Masonwolf, I'd appreciate it if you'd not dictate what my characters/npc's assault gear should be classified as.]
"Prey? Look here, mutt-", one of the human soldiers, a Gunnery Sergeant, snapped.

<Not worth it. Proceed to the objective.>, his hybrid Captain corrected telepathically. No sooner had she spoken than an alarm blared in her ear. <GAS! GAS! GAS!>, the female 'roared' telepathically to all non-hostile forces. For the Alliance troops, it was merely a signal to get medics to the fore and find a way to save as many noncombatants as possible. Their assault gear was hermetically sealed and designed to operate in a vacuum if necessary.

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<I'm a little hungry, not mute. I think I can manage.>, Eva replied, <It'd help if you could locate my gear, though. A tailblade is a great weapon, but a sword would be welcome right about now.>. The Karmid looked around as she walked, keeping pace with the human. As soon as she'd been warned of the gas, though, Eva rushed to cut open as many cells as she could. <Can you neutralise it?>, she asked, hoping she wouldn't have to watch the psychics die. Either way, the pilot would be fine.

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As expected, the guards weren't going to just let the Heavies through, and a trail of bodies marked what progress the squads had made as they fought, sticking to plasma cannons and purpose-designed grenades launched from the tank cannons for now, not wanting to rip open the hull of the station just yet.

masonwolf:
[I was talking about the Wolfen Marines armor, Should have probably clarified that.]

"Prey is what we call everything non-Wo-"

<Gas! Everyone switch to internals!>
The Wolfen Marines changed to their internal air tanks with a few soft clicks. They weren't strangers to Bio-warfare being a race that just came out of a Civil war with loads of them. One of them was unlucky and their suit didn't switch causing the large wolf creature to begin coughing up blood from his lungs.
"Get him back to the hanger for evac!"
The largest one of them yelled. one of the lower ranking soldiers (most likely a Private) Hurried to the soldier's side and began guiding him back to their camp for medical help.
"Get the door open, our Kin and your pilot could be in danger."

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