KBKG: HA! HA! I figured out how to separate my stuff from my intros... HA!
Bishop: Sound so proud of yourself, you stupid little fool.
KBKG: ...BOY, you're a downer, man.
Bishop: It's what I exist for.
KBKG: At least you look good doing it... ANYWAY, I decided I'd put up an actual OC-BASED STORY :GAAAASPS!: This story is called Sturmkaiser, and it's about my OC Kaiser Säbel, who's half-German. I have this story up on DeviantArt, too, but I wanted to get all different kinds of opinions on it.
Bishop: Kyubikudagitsune713 does not own TMNT. In fact, she doesn't own anything. She sold rights to
herself to me in exchange for-
KBKG: ANNNNNNNNYWAY! This is Chapter 1, HEIST!
It was a big day for Bishop. His troops had managed to bring in an alien power core well over four hundred years old. With it, his experiments and his operation would improve visibly in a very short amount of time.
He estimated it would put his research ahead roughly seventy years.
Bishop was standing in front of the pedestal carrying the object—a simple glowing yellow orb that gave off a steady high-pitch hum as it vibrated in its container, always moving, always whirling. He wondered, briefly, just how much energy it contained. The studies would show enough.
Smirking, the tall man fixed his dark glasses and turned, his long coat whipping after his heels as he left the containment center, shutting the high-security doors and punched in both security codes into the locks on either sides of the door, scanned his retinas to finish the job, and left two of his men at the doors. Bishop then went to check on Stockman's business deeper in the compound.
He'd no sooner gotten out of sight than something moved, slowly, silently on the ceiling. A figure stood up, wearing, strangely, white gear aside from some equipment strapped to their uniform that was darker in color. Fortunately, the compound's poor lighting—Bishop was admittedly cheap on such things—hid the brighter coloration in the tall, dark hallways.
The figure reached back into their belt and pulled out two small mechanical disks, each no bigger than a nickel around, and threw them. Tink! Rather than their intended targets, they both hit the ground and rolled down the hallway.
Silently cursing their moment of terrible aim, the figure ducked behind the metal pipes going through the ceiling as both guards turned, aiming their high-grade laser rifles. "…You see who threw those?" One asked, carefully picking one of them up and looking at it. A simple little metal ring around a brighter-colored core.
"…Looks like a button or something." He said. Seeing at least one opportunity, the figure pushed a button on a switch. The soldier grunted as a small pulse ran through the device, and suddenly faceplanted with a THUD. "What the hell—" The other one turned, in time for the figure to jump down onto his back, slamming another one onto the back of his neck and jumping off.
Before the soldier could turn and fire, the figure pushed another switch and down he went, too, before the alarm could be set.
It had been close. Too close. They would have to work on their aim. Note to self: buy dartboard. They told themselves, turning to the door. After careful examination, they decided there was no way in hell they were getting through that way.
Sure, they could repeat each access code, but it wasn't like they were a shape-changer that could change their retinas to match somebody else's. That kind of stuff was just a little too out there.
So, planting one foot on the wall, one of the metal devices set to the bottom of their shoes suddenly beeped, and then the other, and the figure calmly walked right up the wall, examining the entire section around the room. And, disgruntled, found there was no way in aside from the doors.
Well, save blowing open a wall, but that was just so crude. Then, an idea hit the figure. If they couldn't get in on their own…
That guy in the black coat would get them in.
~Time Skip 1...
It was only a matter of time before the solders woke up and immediately reported the incident, and Bishop came running, infuriated. He punched in the first code, then the second, scanned his retinas, and the door opened. As he walked in, he didn't notice a follower quickly ducking around the top of the doorway and hurrying up to the top of the tall, dark ceiling of the containment chamber.
Bishop immediately walked to the power core, only to find it intact, humming away as usual, and he turned. "…Looks like they didn't get in." He said, and he held out a hand. Immediately, one of the guards walked over and put all three of the little destabilizing devices in his palm, and he looked at them.
Pretty damn small. But detailed. Two of them were burnt and fried from being used, but the third one was still perfectly intact.
A sudden thought hit him and he immediately put it in a bag away from his skin. Fortunately for him he did so—the thief-to-be cursed to themselves on the ceiling. A second later and he would have been down for the count. Today was just not a good day for them.
Bishop turned, scanning the room. No windows, and the surface was smooth as could be. No climbing in or out, no hiding higher up. Or so he thought. He turned, giving the core one final check. "…Cover all skin while guarding any important technology. Triple guard. I'll take these devices to Stockman for further examination." He said.
"Sir!" was the chorus, and the doors shut behind the EPF with an ominous clang. After a moment, the thief slid silently down the side of the wall, looking over their shoulder. Just in case, they pushed a button on their gear that would disguise their body heat in the room. That bastard seemed like the thorough type. No taking chances today.
Walking over to the power core, they carefully circled it, thinking carefully about the safest and most efficient way to remove it—without triggering any alarms. Finally, they pulled on a black glove that had red veins going through it and a microchip on the back of the palm, and carefully pulled something out of their pocket.
Pushing forward, they slowly but carefully made the switch, and pulled the power core out. Flipping the glove inside-out like a container over the volatile sphere, the thief tucked it away into a canister on their belt, and looked at their work.
Sitting in place of the energy sphere was a brightly colored yellow softball, and drawn on it in permanent marker was a face blowing a raspberry.
The anime reference had been too sweet to pass up.
Then, quickly, the figure ran up to the wall and hopped up, moving up and flattening themselves over the doorframe. Now, just to wait for that guy to come back again and open the door so escape was possible.
No need to rush. No need to be impatient. The longer he thought the core was sitting in place, the longer the time it could have been potentially stolen in, the better.
Started out a bad job, but now it was starting to look better.
~Time Skip 2...
Bishop returned three hours later, just when the thief was finally starting to get impatient and planning on a way to draw attention to the chamber. The doors opened, and the agent walked right underneath, moving straight toward the 'core'. Immediately, the thief silently flipped around the doorframe and to the other side, immediately moving to the roof and ducking to hide.
Okay, so maybe they wanted to see the fuss. A roar of rage rang out inside, and hearing it seemed to shake that desire out of the thief. They decided then and there they'd fucked with the wrong person and immediately went to escape through a small ventilation shaft. Fortunately, their figure was thin and they were able to slide through and shut the shaft, and immediately army-crawled down it as fast as they could.
Note to self, stay away from THAT GUY! Who CARES how good the bounty is? They thought to themselves. Reaching the end of the ventilation shaft, they dropped into a larger room, which was the underground entrance to the bay, and, pulling down the cloth cover over their mouth and noise, they replaced it with a strange vented breathing mask and dove in.
For a moment, bubbles rose to the surface, and then, there was nothing as alarms and flashing lights began to blare through the compound.
Deeper inside, Bishop was almost to the point of spitting, he was so furious. He was throwing around threats, shouts, demanding that the place be locked down. He didn't want an ant getting in or out.
So, they closed the floodgates, just moments after the thief had passed through them.
Not a good day for Bishop.
~Meanwhile, across town...
The thief slid in the window of a small two-story brick house crammed between two other housing complexes, and sighed, walking to the closet underneath the staircase. Ducking down and in, they slid underneath and found a hidden plate in the concrete, and punched in a quick sequence, before the plate moved underneath them and promptly dumped our thief into an underground lab facility.
"Ugh, damn! I gotta fix that damn thing…! Why is my day sucking so much…?" The thief argued, rubbing their bruised tailbone before standing, walking over to a container. Opening the canister and turning the glove on back normally onto their hand, they reached out, putting their brand-spankin' new power core into the container. That done, they removed the glove completely, and started running scans on their computer.
Turning, the figure sighed and pulled back the cloth and hood covering their head and pulling down the night-vision goggles—custom made.
The young woman shook the sweat and water out of her short brown hair, and ran her fingers through it.
"Damn. I just barely got out of there." She told herself simply, peeling herself out of her gear and wrapping a towel around herself as she turned to the computer, looking at the progress of the scans.
Seemingly approving, she turned and walked to a nearby sectioned-off area that contained a shower and a decontamination area. It would remove all traces of anywhere she'd been, and any residue from the energy core.
Hopefully. It still had a few bugs she had to work out. Then she paused as a sudden, terrible thought hit her, and she ran back. The girl scowled, picking up a cellphone from a desk and dialing as fast as she could. This was an emergency.
Putting it to her ear, she sighed in relief. "China Garden, may I take your order?" rang through. "Oh, THANK GOODNESS, I was worried I wouldn't get you before you closed. It's Kaiser Säbel again, Zhou. I just got home from a bad day and I'm starving, send the usual, okay? Ooh—extra egg drop soup today. And extra fortune cookies just cuz you loooooove meeee?" She added in a pitiful tone.
"You pay extra!" rang through in disgust.
"…These devices were little doozies. They could've knocked out a charging bull." Stockman said as his cyborg form was looking at the one that was still intact. "How do they work?" Bishop was disgusted at the fact that he'd lost the power core. Let alone the fact they had no sign of the thief.
For the sake of efficiency, he'd set up the cameras in the container room to only turn on the video recording if they started detecting body heat within ten feet of the container, or the electronic signature of a robotic lifeform. How the hell had this happened?
"They don't contain a tranquilizer. Just the opposite. These babies activate your adrenaline. Enough to knock about anything out. Hell, enough to kill you if they're planted in the wrong place." Stockman said. "And adrenaline would be undetectable in most biological scans. It would be mistaken for adrenaline activated naturally by the body. It's a risky maneuver, but it's smart." Bishop admitted grudgingly.
"Right. But unfortunately, they're one-time use. Their wiring is much too delicate, and the human body only has a limited amount of adrenaline at a given point and time. Once the soldiers woke up, our thief wouldn't have been able to use the same method again. Whoever this was felt that they had plenty of time and knew how to use it." Stockman said, turning his eyeball to Bishop.
"…The thief LET the soldiers wake up to get me there to open the door. That BASTARD!" Bishop realized, slamming his fist into the table so it rattled. Then he looked at his chief scientist. "Can you get any clue who made them from the design? Chaplin? Donatello, or Leatherhead, even?" He asked.
"Apparently you have a new enemy, because I don't have a clue! This make and model are unknown to me!" was the almost cheery reply from the artificially-sustained brain. Bishop just glared him down. "Oh, don't worry, I'll try to study the devices more in-depth. I no longer have adrenal glands, after all, so they're safe for me to work with." Was the semi-bitter reply.
"I want some answers, and SOON," Bishop growled, turning and storming out. "…He takes himself much too seriously. We already did all the major scans for the core and we can develop another one. It's just his simple pride that's making him do this now." Stockman mused, going to his work.
Oh, well. He wasn't arguing. Not with that guy, in that mood.
KBKG: I can see him getting PIS-SY about somebody doing that to him.
Bishop: *GLARE*
KBKG: See? Anyway, the turtles come in the next chapter, and Bishop reaches a whole new level of frustration! The next chapter is Chapter 2. Enervation and Aggravation!
