Scorpions and Spheres (GEAR)

[Lukas]

DEI did its best to promote a positive image of itself - a shining beacon of progressive science driving the world to a brighter future. But the brightest light casts the darkest shadow - and the underside of DEI certainly counted. Dylan Couch's laboratory was one of these shadows - a metaphorical skeleton in their closet, to contrast the literal one held up in one corner of his research area. Most of the bones were at least partially melted or burned, with the most recently destroyed bone having a post-it attached to the stump.

Dimensional Crystal residue - destruction in record time - wear thicker gloves in the future.

Racks of pills and liquids adorned a set of shelves besides the door, refinements and modifications for some degree of combat drug. One jar at the end is empty, and simply labeled "VENOM PROTOTYPE". Every other wall is adorned by some degree of technical diagram - cannons, vehicles, mechs - the Great Axion stands out, as does the MARV. Sheets and papers cover the holographic table taking up most of the room, an open space in the center displaying a curious sight - a sphere and a set of crystalline structures, with a scorpion tail slightly off to one side. The man himself is busy at work scribbling notes on a piece of paper while staring intently at the images presented before him. Occasionally the technical diagrams would vanish, to be replaced with security footage of the containment breach. Every repetition of the footage had him leaning in further, a project taking form. If this could be re-purposed... not weakened, not enhanced, but made variable... it could be a weapon and a stimulant at the same time. Troop enhancement, and a killswitch, all in one. The drugs had started as a pet project, but this was something more. He could combine his professional research into dimensional energy with his casual interests in chemistry... he just needed to make the sphere cooperate. That. That was the next problem to solve....

 

[GEAR]

There was a sharp rap at Dylan's door, and moments later, DEI's Director himself strode through the entryway. He looked about the casual chaos of the laboratory with barely concealed distaste... but said nothing. His expression was tight, serious... Far from the usual perpetual sunshine he displayed to his lesser underlings. No, Dylan Couch was one of the few who was subject to more of the inner workings of Bertram Kessler's mind... At least some measure of candidness was needed, after all, in order for them to work together.

With Bertram's financial support of his research, Dylan had been able to delve deep into fields that the Directory would otherwise have never allowed him to touch - and in exchange, the credit made DEI's reputation gleam, like a lustrous hunk of raw dimensional energy crystal, glimmering in the sunlight.

"Couch..." He started as he entered - yet gave another glance around, brow furrowing in mild concern as he did so:

"...Have you eaten?" He asked, arms folding as he did; "...You do realize what time it is, yes?"

 

[Lukas]

The footage was paused with a gesture as Dylan looked up, slightly annoyed by the disruption until he realised who it was. Bertram's visits were one of the better distractions at DEI, and while it was a distraction all the same with them generally came new opportunities or projects.

"Not since I woke up, director - Which was about twelve hours ago. And I try not to keep track of outside time down here. The human body insists on trying to slow down once it thinks night has come, so why give it the chance?" His response was dripping with cheerful arrogance, but that didn't stop him from bringing up a clock to check.

"But if you're taking the time to visit, something new must have come up. What new issue demands my attention, director?" The images on the table vanished with a dramatic sweep of one arm, leaving Bertram with Dylan's undivided attention.

 

[GEAR]

At Dylans mention of his... lack of nourishment, Bertram merely sighed. Predictable, he thought. The poor man probably had no idea it was well into the evening now. He thumbed the surface of his personal terminal momentarily, sending some kind of instruction, before walking forward to drop into a seat, uninvited...

Well... He did own it, after all.

"I spoke with the staff earlier about the adoption of the Riot C." He said, the subject of which had been frequent in their emails the past few days; "Thank you for your hard work on finishing the Composite type in record time, by the way... Consider your bonus this quarter one well earned."

There was a tiny whining noise, and the door slid open once more as a small, rectangular robot careened into the room. It trundled to a stop next to Bertram's feet, and he reached down to tap the surface of his terminal against its head, causing its top to unfold gracefully - and the smell of food - curry, it seemed - to waft upward. Bertram folded his arms on the tabletop, his expression... Pensive.

"Still... For an opportunity to arise for us to wash our hands of Gordon's mistake... and in such a way that its flaws become a feature..."

That name again.

Dylan was not the first to occupy his position... Though, he was one of only three individuals within DEI that would be aware of this fact. Bertram, it seemed, had gone to great lengths to erase any trace of the man once known as Doctor Gordon Griswold... Inventor of the Riot's temperamental Photon Reactor. More to the point, it was the first time in recent memory that Bertram had mentioned the man unprompted... As he normally seemed to keep his thoughts on that matter to himself.

Rising on a set of supports, a tray rose up to table height, and Bertram removed from it a pair of rectangular meal containers, their surfaces creased over with aluminum, as well as a pair of packaged energy drinks and utensils, placing one dutifully in front of Dylan, and one before himself.

"...In addition to our recent acquisition, it would seem that fate's hand is guiding us. Would you not agree, Dylan?"

 

[Lukas]

"Perhaps. Something is definitely looking down kindly upon us, that's for certain." Dylan cracked open the energy drink first, taking a small sip as he contemplated the thought. Luck was merely a case of getting ahead of the probaility curve - with time it would even out. A somewhat fatalistic viewpoint for most, but Dylan took the idea differently. Runs of good luck meant it was time to forge ahead, and exploit your advantage for all it was worth.

For when the luck ran out, he just might end up needing everything at his disposal.

"Attempting to fix the Photon reactor was a trap, in my opinion - one my predecessor fell into. He kept trying to fix the proton engine's flaws, when he should have been embracing them. Not that there weren't risks involved, of course, but what's science without risk taking?" He downed the energy drink after posing the question, letting the resulting sugar rush reinvigorate his tired body.

"Although speaking of risks... this 'sphere' is proving rather tempramental. It clearly dislikes being contained, but what would a containment breach gain it? Nothing. Nothing except an outlet for the hate and resentment that it exudes. It wants to take out the hate it holds within itself on something, and right now that thing happens to be us." Dylan had a habit of assigning anthropomorphic characteristics to machines, but never motives. This was something new.

"It's just a theory for now, but if we managed to give it a different outlet - to use it - then we'd be able to study it more easily. Omnicidal research subjects are frustratingly uncooperative, but a homicidal one could easily be steered in such a way as to allow safer research."

 

[GEAR]

"...The Proton reactors were miniaturized from the handful developed on Mars. If the design had been properly completed... It would have led to cheap, efficient, and clean power... Or, such was the initial concept."

As Bertram spoke, he played with a holographic projection on his personal terminal, brining up an image of a white and blue machine, labeled "Machining Worker Valhawk", publically registered to the Longinus family of Mars. He expanded its internals, displaying the large form of the machine's reactor, very similar in appearance and function to the Riot's own. His eyes narrowed in thought as he spoke, wistfully.

"Had Gordon the time to finish it... It would have certainly delivered on that promise. Make no mistake."

There was... Certainty in his tone. The relationship the two had appeared to be... a strained one, at best, but the way he spoke... There was no doubt whatsoever in his mind that the current state of the reactor was something that could have been avoided, save for the untimely exit of its creator. If it was a snub to Dylan's own abilities, well... it was delivered with the softest touch imaginable.

"...Instead, we are now to bargain it away as a component for suicide weapons." - He shook his head, as if in disappointment. "If he could only see-"

...Yet suddenly, Bertram seemed to catch himself as the subject of the Sphere bobbed to the surface of his mind, like an unexploded mine, reminding him that there was a crisis in need of resolution right under his nose.

"...Ah, pardon me. Yes, the Sphere..."

He listened to Dylan's own thoughts on the matter, prying open his own container, and breaking apart a pair of chopsticks to poke and prod at the pungeant concoction of brown curry and rice beneath, in search of any sort of meat buried beneath its surface. At length he nodded along, swiping along the surface of his terminal once more through the various bits of sundry they had acquired throughout the years, in search of an appropriate vessel.

"I agree. As it stands, the thing is costing us a fortune for all the damage it's caused. Do you have something in mind, as to how we can redirect its power?"

 

[Lukas]

"Actually, yes. In theory, mounting the sphere within an upscaled Dimensional Energy reactor should give an output far in excess of our usual results. I've been plotting out the design for some time..."

Dylan ignored his own 'food' for now, sliding a sheet of paper towards Bertram.

The central sketch is a mobile weapon vaguely resembling the Riot C, but with a hollowed out chest and a crude circle inside. Surrounding it are a mess of weapons - rifles, knives, the original Riot's proton sabers - all crossed out, barring a single scorpion tail and a rifle. The Valhawk's hologram was rather forcefully moved aside to be replaced by a 3D blueprint of the machine on the paper, with both weapons alongside. Dylan had this obsession with making paper copies of his designs before creating the digital blueprint - If this project succeeded the diagram would take its place on the wall next to all the others, another step in the visual tour of his successes.

"As much as I hate to rely on my predecessor's work, the Riot provides a solid base. It's also familiar to my preferred pilot, allowing her to change machines with minimal retraining or adjustments. And assuming the venom can ever be safely re-purposed as a combat drug, Anya would have a way to refill her own supply."

There was a slight bite to the word this time, as if Dylan grew tired of having his own work compared unfavorably to a man that hadn't outlived his own creation. But this was not the time for developing grudges against dead men. This was the time for new discoveries. Limitless untapped power was quite literally beneath their feet, begging to be exploited.

 

[GEAR]

At the name "Ayla", Bertram's eyebrow raised questionably - until he recalled Couch's strange... Tic, for lack of better term, regarding names. Every genius had their idiosyncrasies, and the good Doctor was far from different in that regard. His fingers stroked his chin thoughtfully as he mulled over the name, eventually being reminded of the Riot's pilot from earlier, one of Couch's own hand-picked team.

Ashley, wasn't it?

...If Bertram felt any pangs of guilt over selecting a vulnerable young girl to attempt harnessing the terrible power they had unearthed... His expression, for the moment, carefully masked it.

"...That woman's tolerance might make her an ideal candidate for the Reactor... Though, there's still some work to be done on refining the Venom, I believe Krueger has made some progress on that front. I'll leave the preparations up to you - she is, of course, one of yours." He said, seemingly giving his consent to the plan, whatever misgivings might have been lurking behind that gaze.

As Dylan showed him the blueprints, Bertram looked them over, studying their likeness. He tapped at it with a finger, and then proceeded to snap a picture of it with his terminal, which began to construct a 3D model for him of its own. He examined their components carefully, listening to Couch's slightly pointed remarks regarding his predecessor - perhaps he had been feeding that resentment on purpose, always eager to push the Doctor to new heights?

"How soon can you fabricate a prototype? With full run of the facilities, of course."

 

[Lukas]

"It won't take long - A few days, probably. Less if I use the shell of one of the original Riots. The Beta's still in space, but I can use the Alpha while Aysha makes her way back to earth. Strip out the reactor, get to work on the weapons and containment, she'll arrive just in time to test it."

Dylan gave a summary of his plan while finally opening his own dinner, his attention finally returning to the complaints of his body. Perhaps now was a good time to take a break... refresh himself before beginning work on his next masterpiece.

"Do keep me updated on Eliza's work with the Venom. If it bears fruit I'll have to borrow a sample for my personal project."

Biochemistry was a departure from the rest of Dylan's doctorates and achievements, but his personal line of combat drugs did wonders for bringing out his favourite test subject's potential. They were produced in tiny quantities, each batch just enough to fuel his subordinate's deployments and experiments - it was less a case of lacking a market than it was finding the right customer. Who'd drug their soldiers with something guaranteed to make them backtalk and start questioning orders?

The right dose of Venom, however.. could theoretically amplify this in the perfect way. Instant berserker, just add pilot. It might not be the best drug for his use, but the market existed - and it would be his hand pushing science forward.

 

[GEAR]

"No 'borrowing'. I'll get it through the regular channels."

Perhaps it was a bit of a joke, as Bertram joined Dylan in devouring the contents of his own meal. He was the kind of man who spent big on such things, for his appetite for cheap food was nonexistent - only in DEI's cafeteria could one find caviar on demand, it seemed. After a few moments of silence in scarfing down complex carbohydrates, he dabbed his mouth with a napkin before continuing, steepling his fingers as he did.

"...There's one other thing. I want you to supervise the test flight of the Great Axion to the Moon. There's some business I have to take care of at the Anchorage site, that the Directory wanted me to look into."

He gave a shrug - much as he disliked it, DEI was still at the mercy of the Directory, and when they told him to go somewhere, he went. DEI's Anchorage campus was an otherwise negligible location doing mostly data-processing... Hardly seemed like an exciting trip, given Bertram's reaction as he grimaced.

"If the Directors want to run their own fleet into the grinder that is the Lunarian military, they're more than welcome to do so - but we can't allow them to do the same to our own assets. Do whatever is necessary to bring the ship back in one piece."

The two of them had overseen the Great Axion from its design, all the way through to its implementation - thus, Bertram at least appeared to be comfortable leaving Dylan in charge of its operations, secure in the knowledge that he was as invested as his employer in its continued survival. Furthermore, there didn't seem time to equip the ship with that weapon Krueger had been tinkering with - the woman, once again, was dragging her heels... But, given the questionable ethical nature of that particular device, it was understandable.

"I'm sending Krueger with the Double-Zero to assist them. The Directory doesn't need to know that we've acquired a genuine Sphere... So continue to collect data on the performance of the substitute we installed in it."

 

[Lukas]

"I'd be happy to, Director - the Axion was one of my favourites. A certain degree of battle damage may be mandatory to ensure the Directory doesn't get too annoyed at us, but I refuse to let the ship sink on my watch."

Flights of fancy were often the background behind one of Dylan's projects. The Great Axion was not one of these cases. It had been a labour of love from start to finish, and he treated the ship like a sane man would treat a child.

Not that his treatment of the ship was a good reason to define him as insane. That job fell to his other projects.

"If the Double-Zero is being deployed with me, where do you intend to place the Scorpion? I would of course prefer to have it within observation distance, but dangling it in front of the directory would be a mistake."

 

[GEAR]

"The Directory are ignorant regarding the Spheres. Those charlatans have no idea what they're capable of."

Bertram folded his arms, contempt dripping from his every word as he regarded the Directory's own science divisions - or more rather, its eclectic mix of over-funded, pointless vanity projects run by scientists that were twice as insane as Couch, but had only half of his talent. That fact alone, in his mind, made them worthy of his scorn - being able to find madmen was easy, but competent madmen were worth their weight in gold.

"It's fortunate that we acquired the Scorpion when we did... I doubt they would have been able to contain it at all. This entire region would be a graveyard by now."

He shook his head, but only partially in disbelief, at the thought of the Scorpion's nanomachine "bombs" running amock. Perhaps, he thought, much like a fire it would eventually burn itself out - but from what they had seen so far, that accursed object's hatred and malevolence knew no bounds, and as long as it remained a perpetual source of resentment, so too would it continue to be a threat. He only hoped that Couch's ability to contain it was as good as hoped - and it wasn't the first time he had put all his chips on the man's brilliance either, for that matter.

"If the containment mobile frame is ready by the time the Directory wishes for us to embark upon this... Operation, we'll bring it along for some live-fire testing. If not, there's no harm in leaving both it and Ashley behind. I'm sure the Directory will point us at someone's throat down here, sooner or later..."

His gaze narrowed into a half-lidded glare, though it hardly seemed directed at his present company - No, perhaps something else was on his mind. The mention of the 00 - that dark, monstrous Chimera of a machine that had been long housed in the subterranean facility - alone seemed to have bothered him, though for what reasons, it was uncertain.

"...And when they do, we must make sure we are on hand to make the appropriate observations."

 

[Lukas]

"My contemporaries like to believe that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from a big gun. They probably wouldn't have even bothered trying to contain it - just dropped it on the enemy and hoped for the best."

Dylan neglected to admit that had been his first idea when it came to easily weaponising the sphere. Spectacularly bad ideas had a habit of trying to assert themselves when he wasn't paying attention, but he allowed them to at least try. Behind every terrible idea was a perverted core of a good one. Nanomachine bombing was a horrific weapon and quite likely a war crime, but also the ultimate in area denial.

"Unless the Directory move their schedule forward on us again, I'll have our personal scorpion ready in time. But the depths of their bureaucracy should keep them occupied for a while longer. Frankly it's a miracle they get anything done, let alone an operation this big."

The disdain in his voice was audible. Red tape, checks, regulations, so-called 'sanity checks'.. all they did was get in his way. Bertram's last remark seemed to have given him an idea as he finished speaking, stirring around what little remained of his food to try and find what little meat remained.

"Speaking of observation.. perhaps we should outfit the scorpion with something more than our usual recording gear. If there's chance I'll be away when it's sent out to battle, we could miss out on some vital observations. Some sort of additional monitoring would be due in such a scenario, yes? Plus some sort of override, should the sphere unfortunately overtake our test subject." He quickly spelled out the basics, considering it a useful thought exercise even if the proposal was rejected. Killswitches weren't his style, but in a case like this - one might just be required.

 

[GEAR]

Bertram's expression as Dylan Couch, of all people, suggested a safety system was nothing short of priceless, and it took him a moment to recover from the shock, figuratively picking his jaw up off the ground as he did so.

"As long as it doesn't interfere with normal operation. I'm not sure what could really slow that thing down, if it were to get out of control... But, do your best, I suppose."

It was an unusual perk of working with Couch that, if you were to give him some basic instructions, you could be assured of returning to find it completed to at least some capacity that satisfied your intentions. Granted, there was no small chance it wasn't also powered by something abhorrent - for example, ocular fluids - but a few pre-market tweaks and some gentle prodding of the good Doctor would usually tidy such things up.

Stretching, the Director stood, and made to leave - but before he did so, he gave one more backward glance, as if he had almost forgotten something.

"One last thing, Dylan." He said, levelly;

"Something is amiss in this operation. Take care not to let your curiosity get the better of you, lest it end you tangled amongst the spider's web... For both our sakes."

...And with that he was gone. A small helper robot emerged shortly after he left, gathering the various utensils and plates, leaving Dylan be to contemplate the conversation's outcome.

 

[Lukas]

In his defence, the Ocular generator would have made for a perfectly suitable power source on cybernetic eyes. The problem came from ensuring the body kept producing fluids after extraction of the original eyeball.

"A warhead on the reactor would be guaranteed, but that obviously impedes normal operation. I'll start at emergency ejection and work from there, Director - gives us a good way to at least save the research subject."

Anyone listening in might assume he's talking about the pilot, but no. The Sphere was a subject in his mind - a volatile, unpredictable, subject - but a subject nonetheless. Much like his pet pilot acted while charged up on her drug of choice. Their similarities brought a small smile to his face, even if Bertram's warning was echoing in his mind.

Obviously the director knew something he wasn't willing to share. Not that this was a new revelation at all, but in this one case, further investigation might be necessary. Not personal research - his time was far too precious. Someone intelligent - that ruled out his various underlings and aides - but disposable - which ruled out his test pilot of choice. But the captain of his last project would be more than capable enough to look into whatever was required, with the proper hinting. The hard part would be making sure she informed him of whatever mystery was uncovered, but that could be dealt with at the time.

For now, the pieces were beginning to stir into motion. And the next thing he added to the board would be his queen.