White. White everywhere. Everything, white.
Derik flashed in and out of consciousness, struggling against the tethers that held him down as they sped down a white corridor. They had him on a stretcher with doctor's rushing to his aide and holding him down while sticking needles in him. Craning his neck to see his body, the stretcher was soaked with a crimson liquid.
Blood. Am I-I... Dying?
"I can't die!" Hope shouted as tears streamed down his cheeks, soaking the already splattered stretcher. Trying to move his legs to kick the surrounding doctors, he realized he couldn't feel the lower half of his body. Falling into severe shock, Hope's eyes glazed over and he lie there, motionless as doctors rushed faster. His heartbeat was rapidly declining. Blood flowed at a greater pace every moment.
Derik found himself in darkness, he felt as if he were floating into vast nothingness. "So," he managed to mumble, "is this what happens after death?" Attempting to move any part of his body was futile, nothing budged, except for his head, which only barely moved.
"Derik?" A calming, but stern voice, called out to him. "You aren't dead, but we had to forcefully put you to rest. You are what we call, 'An immobile state'. We injected you with, T-HJ4, a drug used to knock out disturbed, or in your case, resisting, patients." Derik's eyes seemed to flutter open as if by an external's force command. Looking around, he saw many armed guards, along with note-taking doctors. Guns were trained on Hope, and he seemed to go into some sort of a shock.
"What have I done wrong?" Derik had been released from his restraints, and stumbled backwards into a table, spilling the contents onto the ground. Some sort of aiming system was popping up in his vision. The reticle seemed to be training itself on the nearest gun. "What have you done to me!" Confusion quickly changed into anger. Something began to flame up inside of Derik's arm, and rushing through his body. Adrenaline? He thought to himself. No, something that they did to me.
Apparently the main doctor had noticed this newfound anger and was taking caution. "Aloura, power him down. Now!" The man gestured to his assistant which clicked different buttons rapidly, attempting to power down Hope. Derik found himself harder to carry, as if, by command, his limbs were going limp. But soon afterwards he regained strength, and control.
"Sir! Systems are somehow being overridden! We need a forced power-down!" The armed men began to converge on Derik. In retaliation, the system did something to his back, which brought immense pain. Something glinted from behind from behind him, attached to his back, and he couldn't believe his eyes.
Metal wings emerged and fended off the oncoming guards, the shock was overwhelming and he collapsed.
I'm going to kill them. Kill them all.
Waking up, on his own will, Derik was stuck in place with large metal rods. "Tsk tsk Derik, I'd hope you would have had better results. Killing six innocent men in cold-blood. I had high expectations." A man emerged from the darkness that surrounded him. Encased in his own darkness, a large, black, trench coat, a large grin crossed his face. "I hope you come to your senses and see we're trying to help you." Shrugging he stepped closer and the grin faded. "Because if not, you're dead to us-" Hope broke free and kicked the man across the room, not bothering to check if he were alive. Breaking through the walls around him, exposing natural light. Sprinting into the open, he seemed to be located in a desert.
"Well," Hope mumbled, admiring his wings, "Lets see what you can do." Taking off, it wasn't long until he came back, tumbled to the ground, coughing up sand. "Guess I'll just run." Off he went.
(This is where you guys come in! You're here to track down and find Derik Hope, with any force necessary, just not to harm Derik DIRECTLY. Good luck!)
Derik flashed in and out of consciousness, struggling against the tethers that held him down as they sped down a white corridor. They had him on a stretcher with doctor's rushing to his aide and holding him down while sticking needles in him. Craning his neck to see his body, the stretcher was soaked with a crimson liquid.
Blood. Am I-I... Dying?
"I can't die!" Hope shouted as tears streamed down his cheeks, soaking the already splattered stretcher. Trying to move his legs to kick the surrounding doctors, he realized he couldn't feel the lower half of his body. Falling into severe shock, Hope's eyes glazed over and he lie there, motionless as doctors rushed faster. His heartbeat was rapidly declining. Blood flowed at a greater pace every moment.
Derik found himself in darkness, he felt as if he were floating into vast nothingness. "So," he managed to mumble, "is this what happens after death?" Attempting to move any part of his body was futile, nothing budged, except for his head, which only barely moved.
"Derik?" A calming, but stern voice, called out to him. "You aren't dead, but we had to forcefully put you to rest. You are what we call, 'An immobile state'. We injected you with, T-HJ4, a drug used to knock out disturbed, or in your case, resisting, patients." Derik's eyes seemed to flutter open as if by an external's force command. Looking around, he saw many armed guards, along with note-taking doctors. Guns were trained on Hope, and he seemed to go into some sort of a shock.
"What have I done wrong?" Derik had been released from his restraints, and stumbled backwards into a table, spilling the contents onto the ground. Some sort of aiming system was popping up in his vision. The reticle seemed to be training itself on the nearest gun. "What have you done to me!" Confusion quickly changed into anger. Something began to flame up inside of Derik's arm, and rushing through his body. Adrenaline? He thought to himself. No, something that they did to me.
Apparently the main doctor had noticed this newfound anger and was taking caution. "Aloura, power him down. Now!" The man gestured to his assistant which clicked different buttons rapidly, attempting to power down Hope. Derik found himself harder to carry, as if, by command, his limbs were going limp. But soon afterwards he regained strength, and control.
"Sir! Systems are somehow being overridden! We need a forced power-down!" The armed men began to converge on Derik. In retaliation, the system did something to his back, which brought immense pain. Something glinted from behind from behind him, attached to his back, and he couldn't believe his eyes.
Metal wings emerged and fended off the oncoming guards, the shock was overwhelming and he collapsed.
I'm going to kill them. Kill them all.
Waking up, on his own will, Derik was stuck in place with large metal rods. "Tsk tsk Derik, I'd hope you would have had better results. Killing six innocent men in cold-blood. I had high expectations." A man emerged from the darkness that surrounded him. Encased in his own darkness, a large, black, trench coat, a large grin crossed his face. "I hope you come to your senses and see we're trying to help you." Shrugging he stepped closer and the grin faded. "Because if not, you're dead to us-" Hope broke free and kicked the man across the room, not bothering to check if he were alive. Breaking through the walls around him, exposing natural light. Sprinting into the open, he seemed to be located in a desert.
"Well," Hope mumbled, admiring his wings, "Lets see what you can do." Taking off, it wasn't long until he came back, tumbled to the ground, coughing up sand. "Guess I'll just run." Off he went.
(This is where you guys come in! You're here to track down and find Derik Hope, with any force necessary, just not to harm Derik DIRECTLY. Good luck!)
"Information received Command, confirming change in mission. PZ-Three will begin intercept of escapee immediately." A strangely armored woman replied while leaning slightly from the side of a VTOL as it turned around and headed back towards the base.
The craft was still a fair twenty minutes away, long enough time for the woman to begin reading the data she had been sent along with her new orders. Truthfully she did not like them at all. A new experimental unit, gone rogue...again. Seven people dead? No, updated to Nine. Two soldiers on patrol beneath the destroyed wall. She was under orders to take the target, now labeled extremely dangerous, without directly harming him? Talk about asking to do the impossible.
The craft was still a fair twenty minutes away, long enough time for the woman to begin reading the data she had been sent along with her new orders. Truthfully she did not like them at all. A new experimental unit, gone rogue...again. Seven people dead? No, updated to Nine. Two soldiers on patrol beneath the destroyed wall. She was under orders to take the target, now labeled extremely dangerous, without directly harming him? Talk about asking to do the impossible.
Mars awoke with the sting of a hangover buzzing in his brain. His transmitter had been beeping for what seemed like days, he just wanted it off so he could return to sleep. Mars was an old general somewhere between his late fifties and early sixties. He was however in peak physical condition other then his liver. Which at this point was his own fault for screwing up for the last twelve years since he had gotten it replaced.
"Experiment gone rouge? Agent Asimov on route for capture," Mars was reading aloud to help his still fuzzy brain comprehend. He was alone out here, stationed in a small hut outside the manframe base. It was his job to report any civilians trying to enter the building, but also for him to stop anyone who may escape from reaching the outside world. According to the transmitter, Subject Hope was seventeen clicks south of his possition and moving fast.
Mars stood and put on his bullet proof vest, then his long, leather, fire retardant trench coat on. Lastly he fastened his metal mask, it was a gas most of sorts, but he used it to improve visibility in the thick sandstorms, which were next to always raging. "Weapons... Weapons..." He slung a giant cannon onto his back, a weapon he referred to as the 'Bad Wife', he then grabbed a Three Barrel hand gun. The Little Zues he called this one because each shot was an electrified burst of energy.
Gear in hand he headed outside and hopped on his Sand Speeder. A one wheeled cycle that was built for travel threw sand with a side car mostly used for his 'Bad Wife' cannon. "Hope my back up is there for me by the time I get to the kid." And with that he standed up the sand speeder and headed south to cut Subject Hope off before he could get away.
"Experiment gone rouge? Agent Asimov on route for capture," Mars was reading aloud to help his still fuzzy brain comprehend. He was alone out here, stationed in a small hut outside the manframe base. It was his job to report any civilians trying to enter the building, but also for him to stop anyone who may escape from reaching the outside world. According to the transmitter, Subject Hope was seventeen clicks south of his possition and moving fast.
Mars stood and put on his bullet proof vest, then his long, leather, fire retardant trench coat on. Lastly he fastened his metal mask, it was a gas most of sorts, but he used it to improve visibility in the thick sandstorms, which were next to always raging. "Weapons... Weapons..." He slung a giant cannon onto his back, a weapon he referred to as the 'Bad Wife', he then grabbed a Three Barrel hand gun. The Little Zues he called this one because each shot was an electrified burst of energy.
Gear in hand he headed outside and hopped on his Sand Speeder. A one wheeled cycle that was built for travel threw sand with a side car mostly used for his 'Bad Wife' cannon. "Hope my back up is there for me by the time I get to the kid." And with that he standed up the sand speeder and headed south to cut Subject Hope off before he could get away.
A loud alert noise would waken Polaris as she raises her head from her ship control panel, rubbing her eyes a bit and checking what the alarm's going for, grumbling to herself, "Hnnngh. . . What is it now?" She wipes off the drool on the panel quickly before turning off the alert systems and opening the message, reading it for a moment, "A test subject had broken out of a research facility? Heh. . . Subject worth quite a bit of currency for being brought back to the facility alive. . . Best I start loading my automatic chainguns with sleeper rounds and refit one of those empty rooms with a more powerful scanner. . ." She then reads the amount of kills this man had and raises her eyebrows, "9 people killed. . . Marked as a dangerous target? . . . Bah. . . Nevermind. . . I'm gonna have to also add in a hunter missile pod to the bottom of the ship, along with two cryo-throwers. . . Scrap the idea for the sleeper rounds, I'm gonna use those new highly-charged tazer rounds I've managed to develop thanks to that blueprint I bought from the black market. . . Hopefully this guy's easily tazed and frozen and not an annoying speedy person like the last head I've collected. . ."
Soon, she'd set her ship's autopilot to head for the last place the test subject was seen before getting off the chair, dusting off her jacket, then leave the piloting room, heading to the rooms that the chainguns are connected to and beginning to replace the rounds used. . . Along with changing the empty room directly under the pilot room into a powerful sensory station and setting up quick built turrets on the three empty turret areas on the bottom of the ship. . . Estimated time to completion, 5.5 hours, estimated time to reach the last area test subject Hope was seen in, 1 hour. . .
Soon, she'd set her ship's autopilot to head for the last place the test subject was seen before getting off the chair, dusting off her jacket, then leave the piloting room, heading to the rooms that the chainguns are connected to and beginning to replace the rounds used. . . Along with changing the empty room directly under the pilot room into a powerful sensory station and setting up quick built turrets on the three empty turret areas on the bottom of the ship. . . Estimated time to completion, 5.5 hours, estimated time to reach the last area test subject Hope was seen in, 1 hour. . .
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