Chapter 1: Activation

[Khakhan]

Tyse Rumanen

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Just as quickly as the pain hit, it disappeared, only to be replaced by another different pain. That too, vanished quickly. The only lingering sensation she had was one of confusion as more text kept feeding across her vision. Words that made no sense.

And then she knew things she had no business knowing. She stumbled upright, accepting the proffered helping hands. She blinked a few times to clear her vision from the fuzz that had been there.

The only thing that didn't clear were the holographic displays popping up through her vision, highlighting individuals in her vicinity.

"W-7? What does that mean?" Tyse rubs her temples and looks around as she hears a voice in her head again. Activation? "What activation? What orders?" The response was automatic, involuntary. And probably sounded more confused than the person was looking for.

But really, how else was she going to respond? The amount of info she knew now was incredible, and utterly disorienting. The fact that she was even talking was more than she expected.

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HP 17/17 | Armor 11

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Physical 13 | Evasion 12 | Mental 13

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[Arcticus]

 

Remy James Lacroix

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Remy's jaw dropped as something repaired his body. The chronic lower back pain from when he'd fallen out of a tree as a kid. The bruised ribs from his last MMA fight. His scraped knuckles from fighting off Tery Pezal's goons. The inebriated buzz he'd been building up for the last thirty minutes. All of it gone.

His head started swimming as the words "—Activating Operative package." scrawled across his vision. Images flashed before his eyes, faster than he could see. It was all too much for his brain. His head might actually explode. He tried to control his racing heart, taking deliberate breaths, but it wasn't helping at all. He collapsed down to his knees. He wasn't sure how much longer he could handle.

The flashing images suddenly stopped and he only saw darkness. When had he closed his eyes? How had he seen the images? He felt a warm, wet sensation dribbling down his face and wiped it away. In shellshocked alarm, he realized he was bleeding from his nose and... his ears? What the hell just happened to me?

”Four Whiskey, Acacia, I will be assuming ground control at this time. Please confirm successful activation, and stand by for orders."

 

Remy laughed. How could he not? This was all playing out like some B-class sci-fi war movie. There was no way this was happening in real life. This had to be a prank... right?

But every time he looked at the Jaretul ship on the scoreboard, he remembered something about them that he knew he'd never known just five minutes prior. It was unsettling. Doubt crawled into his mind, as he thought. Maybe this is real?

"This is, uh, double-you—I mean, Whiskey Six... I guess? Who is this?"

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HP 15 / 15 | AC 14 

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Saves | Physical: 13 | Evasion: 12 | Mental: 13

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[TiffanyKorta]

Jessie Mae

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Jessie had always wondered what she would do if she heard a voice in her head, though she’d expected it to be the voice of the prophet tasking her to wreck vengeance on the non-believers. In a way she guess this wasn’t that far from the truth, something she’d bring up to the others in the sect, if she had a chance to talk them later. She still bit down the response that came to her lips, for now she was on this mysterious voice side but she still wasn’t happy about it.

“It seems we were destined to be together after all…” she quipped as Radha give the response “I still prefer Jessie to double you three.”

She was a little concerned about her reaction she had to the whole thing, and how easily this all seemed to be happening to herself.

“I agree, are you okay to move now?”

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HP 21 / 21 | AC 17

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Saves | Physical: 12 | Evasion: 12 | Mental: 12

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Edited May 24, 2022 by TiffanyKorta (see edit history)

[Colin]

There was a pause following the responses from the members of 4 Whiskey, almost as if thinking was happening on the other side of the comms, and then text blinked across all their visions. 

IFF Query - CRS Acacia - Transmitting unit information.

 

“Oh that absolute lunatic,” The woman on the other end hissed unthinkingly over their radios as she got the response, and there was another, briefer, pause. 

—Command Broadcast - CRS Acacia - Strategic Ground Control—

 

“All personnel, this is Core Republic Warship Acacia. Three Jaretul cruisers are headed in-system at this time, and have a lead on us. It would seem that all of you on the ground are descendants of an unknowing batch of guinea pigs near the end of the Jaretul War, and contained some nanotech. You should be able to bring up basic info on the Jaretul, and it looks like all received training dumps.

 

Good news, bad news time. Good news is you’re all mostly capable of fighting the enemy that is going to be making planetfall. Bad news is my sister and I are out of position to intercept short of the planet, and it seems as if none of you are likely to be equipped for this fight. 

 

Your battle buddies seem to have automatically grouped you into squads, and you have all been added into the command. Biometrics are questionable on some individuals, please check in with your squads. Your chain of command is still coming out of cryo, and will establish objectives once they are dirtside. At this time I am plotting probable targets for enemy landings, and will update accordingly. Welcome to the Core Republic military everyone, this is going to be fight or die. Stand by for further orders. Acacia, out.”

 

The command broadcast ended, and comms shifted back to squad tactical level. “Four Whiskey, Acacia. Your current location is designated as a strategic LZ. You are tasked with securing the LZ, sealing off entryways into the building outside of a designated chokepoint, and awaiting the first drop pods. Other squads in your AO will be clearing civilians and non-functional squad members. Questions, over?” The mezzo soprano was speaking in a calm, measured voice, which was familiar to all with emergency services experience. It was the same way dispatch talked to responders.

 

[Eric]

"Eight" doesn't really seem to react to Acacia's updates. He's moved on to trying to swipe at the wall, and occasionally to give it a good head-butt, all the while screaming about something that is or is not an immobile piece of concrete in his head.

 

"I"M GONNA MAKE YOU WISH YOU WERE NEVER GENETICALLY ENGINEERED IN A LAB! UGH, HOW'S THAT FEEL NOW, HUH?"

[Aavarius]

David W.N. Kol

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This insanity was starting to make a lot more sense than David liked to admit.  He quit laughing and started listening, started thinking.  As the nanotech initialized and Acacia gave him more context, David came to a couple conclusions.  One, he understood a helluva lot more now than the did mere moments ago.  Two, this was real.  Three, Amara and Henley were in danger.

"Jessia save us," he breathed.  He sat up, stood up.  Amara turned to look at him again.

 

"David, what's going on? Are you freaking out again?"

He chuckled, a wry sound.  "Yeah, I wish I was."   It didn't make Amara happy.  "You saw the news.  It's real, just like we learned in school.  I'm not sure how, but there's a Core Republic sleeper program for fighting the Jeretul and...well, I'm in it."

"Hoo-kay, um, that's cra--"

David kept talking.  "It's real.  I'm telling you, it is."  He pointed up.  "Ships are about to descend from orbit and Four Whis--uh, my squad, that is.  There are eight of us.  We're supposed to secure the LZ."

Amara was understandably incredulous.  "With...what? Your dukes?  Not saying that I believe you."

That was an excellent question.  David didn't have a good answer.  "That's probably why this stadium is becoming a landing zone, to get us supplied."

"Look, this isn't the time for jokes."

David put his head on Henley's head.  The boy looked up into his eyes, and David silently prayed nothing bad happened to him.  He exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He didn't bother arguing with Amara.  "Soldiers are coming that will evacuate the civvies.  Go with them, do what they say, and keep hidden.  You'll see that I'm right soon."

 

David  wrapped his arms around his nephew, squeezed, and knelt in front of him. "Gotta go, Buckaroo."

 

"Gonna fight the bad guys," Henley said.  It wasn't a question.  There was a great deal more understanding in his eyes than his mother's.

 

"Yep.  Gotta keep you and your mom safe."

 

"That's not tr--he's not--David.  David--" Amara started to scold, but her brother cut him off with a bear hug.

 

He set her right, saying, "I don't know when I'm going to see you both again.  Hopefully sooner than later.  Pray for me.  I'll be praying for you."

 

David left his sister and nephew without any further ado.  His eyes were wet, but he didn't much care.  He made his way down the aisle, past the knees and feet of other people sitting until he could get to the staircase between the sections.  He had spotted Whiskey Four nearby and figured they could link up and check in on Whiskey Eight.  David couldn't make heads or tails of what Eight's status indicator was reporting. 

 

He took the stairs two at a time.  Along the way he muttered into his comm, "Acacia, Whiskey One.  How many personnel are on site besides squad Four Whiskey?  How many incoming to evacuate civvies? ETA?" 

 

In his mind, David could think of a hundred different things they needed to do to keep this many people in a stadium this size secure, none of which they had enough people for with just eight in the squad.  They needed control of the PA system and the big screen to give orders.  They needed security to be notified to close off all the stadium entrances, and most of all, they didn't need mass panic.

 

"Jessia save us," he breathed for a second time.

 

When he reached the top he found Whiskey Four standing there in a dress, the same woman who had pitched over with a couple of spilled beers.  Her sudden fall made a lot more sense to David now.  Had to have been when her battle buddy activated.  His HUD reported that her name was Maia Oberlun, which made David hesitate before speaking to her.  He had dated an Oberlun in High School.  Different first name, of course, but he hadn't thought about her in a decade and the memory stopped him in his tracks. 

 

There's no way they're related.

 

Right?

 

He shook his head.  There was too much to do and not enough time to stroll down memory lane with her.

 

"You all right?" He asked her without introduction.  He knew her battle buddy had already ID'd him.  "Let's check on Eight and then get stadium sound and security up to speed," he suggested.

 

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HP 21 / 21  |  AC 17  |  Physical 12  |  Evasion 12  |  Mental 12

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Status:  Gathering His Party Before Venturing Forth

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Edited May 10, 2022 by Aavarius (see edit history)

[Kendris]

Maia Oberlun

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⠀⠀⠀⠀This shit is for real, huh? Maia thought to herself as she shook her head and rubbed the bridge of her nose. And you answered with your badge number? Come on... She sighed and glanced for her phone once more, dropping down to pick it up. Unfortunately the screen was shattered. Guess PlanSec will figure it out on their own. Probably plenty of calls coming in from people in a similar situation anyway. Hopefully they listen.

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀There was nothing else for it, and so Maia took stock of the others in her 'squad', memorizing their names. Not that you'll be having trouble with this 'battle buddy' identifying them for you. Oh well, machines can fail, or worse.  History on this planet was long, and this tech, while amazing, might well be outdated and vulnerable against these Jaretul. She had just been to the concrete entrance on her panicked attempt to escape, it would make a sensible location to try and hold. If the Jaretul also marked this as a good landing site... well, at least it would work both ways. "What if the Jaretul decide this is also a good landing zone, Control?"

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀She dropped her phone and stomped on it as a man, W-1, name David, made his way down the stairs to her. 

Quote

"You all right? Let's check on Eight and then get stadium sound and security up to speed."

⠀⠀⠀⠀"I'm damp with piss water, covered in blood, and it doesn't look like the leave I was supposed to be going on tomorrow is going to be happening. But... I guess that's the job," she said with a sigh. Reaching into her purse for her badge and tossing the useless garment away, clipping the badge on to the most convenient location at the top of her dress. "And I picked a terrible day to not wear pants." She started down to W-8, waving David to keep up. Jessia, I am not meant to be explaining things to civvies...

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Unfortunately, I wasn't here in an 'official' capacity, so all I have is my little one cartridge tazer." Maia's rambling was getting excessive, even for her. Focus, woman. "This concrete hallway into the stadium," she pointed to where they had most likely all came through, and the current location of W-8, "will definitely be the 'chokepoint' that strategic command wants us to keep safe. Hopefully we have time to turn out some of the concessions for their appliances or tables, anything we can use as cover. The heavier the better. The private security might even listen to me with my badge, but without the uniform I might not be as persuasive."

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀Reaching their destination, all Maia could do was raise and eyebrow at the man seemingly beating himself to a pulp against his concrete foe. I guess it was a bit much to handle. Can I really blame this poor sod for losing it? "Eight? You sure you want to keep punching that wall?" she said an eyebrow cocked up. Her battlebuddy had not gotten his name.

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HP 18 / 18 | AC 12 

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Saves | Physical: 12 | Evasion: 10 | Mental: 12

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[Aavarius]

David W.N. Kol

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David gave Maia a flat smile.  There was understanding in his eyes.  "Yeah, that's the job, all right," he agreed.

 

He meant the Operative job they had both been "volunteered" for--the shared soldering experience downloaded into their brains included no small amount of "duty" and "rub some dirt in it" ideas.  Wouldn't have been an effective plan to make citizen soldiers if it didn't also include some understanding of why it was important to put your personal needs aside for the sake of the greater cause.  Maybe the ethics of forcing all this upon uninformed people wasn't exactly standing on solid ground, but David could at least appreciate the intention.

 

But then Maia put her badge on and her actual subject became clear to him.

 

"PlanSec, huh? Okay, yeah."  He nodded.  "I'm a paramedic.  Sick people don't exactly wait for you to be at your best, so I get it."

 

He ran along behind his new comrade-in-arms.  Her observations about the tactical situation agreed with the newly downloaded knowledge base in David's brain, so he voiced his agreement when she was finished.  Arriving at Whiskey Eight's position stopped him from commenting further on the matter.

 

"Jessia," he swore at the sight of the bloody mess.  Threats to the stone wall didn't make him feel any better about what he saw.  David glanced sidelong at Maia a moment, said, "Give me a hand holding him--he's going to struggle.  I think he's hallucinating."

 

David carefully approached, looking for an opportunity to turn Eight away from the wall.  He had dodged a few swings from altered patients in his time, and this looked like a broken nose waiting to happen.

 

"Stand down, soldier.  We're here to back you up.  You're wounded and I'm a medic."

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HP 14 / 14  |  AC 10  |  Physical 12  |  Evasion 12  |  Mental 13

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Status:  David Declares His Dodge on Whiskey Eight

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Edited May 13, 2022 by Aavarius (see edit history)

[Arcticus]

 

Remy James Lacroix

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Remy stood there, dumbfounded. The world-altering events of the last few minutes seemed to pale in comparison to the briefing he was involuntarily subjected too.

 

I have gone insane...or I'm dreaming...or I've somehow managed to find my way onto the set of sci-fi movie. There was no way the Jaretul he'd learned about in school were real or that the Core Republic was still around. Nano tech was proven to be technically possible, but even companies like Halogen or Knight Industries were still—at a minimum—decades away from providing viable proof of concept. Probably more like a century before it would actually be functional and useful. There was absolutely no way that he was just conscripted into military service, right?

 

His heart sank as he looked around and saw his "squadmates" executing Acacia's orders. Whiskey-One --David-- and Whiskey-Four --Maia-- were heading over to Whiskey-Eight. It looked like Eight's battle buddy and the training dumps had overloaded his brain. Poor guy.. But if David and Maia were heading over to him, it meant that they had heard everything he'd heard. Which meant...

 

He felt a knot form in his stomach as clarity sucker-punched him like a back-alley thug. His chest tightened. This was happening. His hometown—his whole blasted planet—was about to be invaded by a near-mythical army of genetically engineered killers... that HE was somehow supposed to fight. With what? He was a halfway decent martial artist, sure, but most wars involved shooting people, right? He needed to figure out how much time he had before the Jaretul made planetfall.

 

"Uh, hey Acacia? This is Whiskey-Six. Can you tell us how much time we've got before the Jaretul get here," he said, in a brave voice that sounded fake in his own ears.

 

He turned to Tyse and saw an icon hovering over her with the designation, "Whiskey-Seven". "So, Tyse, huh? Guess you got conscripted like me."

 

He paused, surveying the situation. He fought to keep his composure. He was no stranger to tense moments and dangerous situations, but this was entirely different. This was a war.

 

"I guess we should do like Acacia says and meet up with the rest of our squad. Have you ever fought anyone or...anything before," he said to Tyse. As he spoke her, he tried to see if their was a UI for this "battle buddy" system that he could navigate and get a feel for.

 

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HP 15 / 15 | AC 14 

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Saves | Physical: 13 | Evasion: 12 | Mental: 13

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 Status: Barely keeping it together

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[Khakhan]

Tyse Rumanen

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Tyse shakes her head, pulling herself out of the rabbit-hole of information she had pouring into her mind from her Battle Buddy. "Remy? Nice to... meet you?" That was weird, knowing information she hadn't been given. "Whiskey Squad? I'm more a bourbon girl, myself." She cracked a small grin at her own joke. This is insane. 

 

"Fought anyone? I've gotten in a couple scraps in my day, but something tells me this is gonna for vastly more experience than those did. Jaretul are a little worse than some back street punks." Tyse reflected on the info she had on the Jaretul in her head. Diamond claws? And what was this spike thing? They...? Ew. That's gross. 

 

She looked around, finding the rest of her designated squad among the seats, and pointed to one sitting by himself in his row, all the other occupants having left. "Harr-Whiskey-2, is there. Let's group with him. Probably best not be alone while this is going down." She looked at Remy, but didn't really wait for a response, before vaulting over the seats to make her way up to him.

 

"Harry? Errm... Whiskey-Two?" She wasn't sure how to address him, especially with him looking as confused as she felt. "We should probably getting moving. Things're hopping right now."

 

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HP 17/17 | Armor 11 | Physical 13 | Evasion 12 | Mental 13

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Status: WTF

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[Basil_Bottletop]

Harry van Damme

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The blazing realization that he was alone on the bench seating hit Harry like a blizzard wind. He grabbed his designer jacket sitting next to him and clutched it to his lap. But the solidarity was short-lived.

 

A young brunette, obviously dressed for the game, was approaching. It took Harry a second to realize that she was calling his name. More to the point, he knew hers by some ethereal visual caption. He stared at it for a long hard second. "Rumanen?" he asked, as if there should be some memory attached to why he knew her name. None came to mind but a rush of other information seemed to burst forth like a dam had broken on his psyche. He stood up to greet her but never extended a hand or any other type of friendly body language indicator.

 

"Yeah, I think they spiked my drink." He murmured before falling in line behind her as she shuffled one step in front of the other in the narrow depths of the bleachers.

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HP 24 / 24 | AC 17

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Saves | Physical: 13 | Evasion: 12 | Mental: 12

[Zhuub]

Radha couldn't help but let out a little laugh at Jessie's straightforward response in the midst of their great upheaval of thought and reality. With the laugh, she felt like she could finally breathe. There would be time to sort through things later, for now she could apply herself in mind, body, and spirit. Wiping the blood from her face with a corner of her scarf, Radha's eyes sparkled at the thought of finding a relationship that was truly and undeniably destined.

 

Quote

“I agree, are you okay to move now?”

She looked up at Jessie, and nodded. Together things wouldn't be quite so overwhelming. Radha reached out her hand as she began mulling through the directives and orders. As she stood, she realized that she was currently feeling more shock than actual pain. In fact, she was feeling really great and even... limber? She shuffled to the end of the row of bleachers, and started down the steps before a realization froze her in place. She hadn't needed to hold the handrail to step down. And her legs even looked straightened out? 

 

Radha rolled her foot around experimentally, then kicked the air. There was nothing- no pain, no inhibited movement. For once it didn't feel like she was actively fighting her limbs, there was no straining of tendon or complaint from her bones. Were there even still scars? She leaned forward, letting the whole weight of her body fall on just one leg as she went down a step. The action  didn't make her tumble or crumple. Radha looked over her shoulder at Jessie with a huge grin before flying down the stairs two at a time. Praise be to Jessia, giver of all things good! 

 

Her revelry was brought to a close as she neared the gathering group in the concrete tunnel. It looks like Four - Maia Oberlun and One - David W.N. Kol - had already reached Eight, and were trying to talk him down. And the indicators for Two, Six, and Seven - Harry van Damme, Remy James Lacroix, and Tyse Rumanen were a cluster further up in the stands.  That was all of them, then. 

 

"We're here to help." She said, both at the flailing Eight and David and Maia. The pair were moving with confidence and purpose, clear signs that they had been well chosen for their appointed task.  The fear of inadequacy loomed large, but she shut it down with an introduction. "I'm Radha, this is Jessie." It felt a little wrong, clunky when they all had this information already. But perhaps humanizing. 

 

[TiffanyKorta]

Jessie Mae

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It had been a while since Jessie had been refered to as someone's plus one, and she had to admit it was quite a nice feeling. For once she hung back and let Radha take control, the woman seemed to be empowered by this along with everything else going on. She couldn't help but be a little more on the defensive around the others, she didn't know them from adam, even if this thing in her head throught they'd be a team.

 

"So anyone know how this is all going to work out? Do we have to do a fancy sequence before we get our spandex?"

 

Releasing her sarcasm might have been misconstuded, and for once not wanting to disappoint someone else for a change decided to maybe tone things down a little bit.

 

"What I mean if we're going to work together we need to work out just what each other can do, and considering its a literial invasion we probably need to do it quickly!"

 

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HP 21 / 21 | AC 17

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Saves | Physical: 12 | Evasion: 12 | Mental: 12

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[Eric]

"Eight" shakes his head as if in a daze. Then he looks to David and starts raving again.

 

"DOC, YOU CAN'T PULL ME OUT OF THE FIGHT NOW! THIS WHOLE PLACE IS CRAWLING WITH BUGS! WE NEED BACKUP! PATCH ME UP WHEN WE GET BACK TO BASE."

 

He lunges forward and lands a nasty head-butt on the wall, which is enough to knock himself out. He collapses to the ground, bleeding from a fresh cut on his forehead.

[Colin]

The team had time to start forming up at least before Eight headbutted the wall hard enough for a self-inflicted KO, and the status indicator changed to flag him as a casualty. Any focus on that indicator gave a bit more detail, though oddly no name still: 4W-8 - Unconscious, vitals nominal. Minor cranial fracture, Battle Buddy non-operational.

 

“Four Whiskey, Acacia. I have several dozen squads evacuating non-capable operatives and civilians at this time. Recommend you locate the security room in the stadium at this time and hold, pending reinforcement and supply drops. CRS Willow and I are moving in-system at best possible speed, but Jaretul ships are entering- range now.” There was a small jump at the end, like there was another word between entering and range but the transmission dropped for a moment. “-geting satellites. -t cont- ‘il in rang- of plan-” The transmission was starting to break up, and high in the sky small flashes started to appear as the incoming ships entered range of the planet’s satellite shell.

 

[COMMAND BROADCAST]
“All standb- -ata squeal. -ay hurt.”

 

The stadium was rapidly emptying through it all, and it was easy to pick out organized small groups moving among the people streaming out of the stands rapidly, but in fairly good order. One of the nearby squads, identified as Four X-ray in their HUDs, picked up Four Whiskey Eight and got him evacuated. Four X-ray Three was a slight brunette woman, though she was stronger than she looked as she hefted their downed squadmate into a fireman carry and gave David and Maia a reassuring smile. “I was a medic before…well whatever we are now, I’ll make sure he’s looked after.” 

 

Then the air raid sirens started, something only used for foul weather usually, and it turned the tail end of the evacuating bodies into a panicked mob. People began to push and run, and it was fortunate there were so many ways out of the levels and the stadium or there would have been a significant number of people trampled. Then the operatives’ comlinks transmitted a high pitched, multitonal electronic screech from hell. It wasn’t the debilitating hammering of the activation, but it was certainly enough to make their heads feel like they were splitting open for a five second span.

 

[DATA SQUEAL RECEIVED, COMMAND OVERRIDE, PLAYING MESSAGE]
“All units, Acacia, Jaretul ships have reached high orbit and begun killing the satellites I was piggybacking for communication dirtside. You have your squad orders, execute with your best judgement until communication is established in approximately forty minutes. Supply drops have been launched in advance targeting rally points designated or as close as possible. Radio beacons and smoke signals will trigger on landing for drop locations. Expect Jaretul planetfall in the next few minutes.”

 

Accompanying the message was a map overlay that looked like it was pulled from a consumer smartphone nav app, designating rally points along with streets and business names. The stadium was marked as “LZ Kappa.”