ATLTH 14
The Daedali
The door to the conference room flies open and Dr. Hector strides in with an apologetic chuckle. "I'm very sorry for my tardiness, especially since I am the one that called this meeting."
He glances around at the seven gathered individuals, near the head of the table, is former Kantonese Marine Corp Colonel Michael Irons with his arm in a cast. He nods at Dr. Hector with a small smile. Next to him is Dr. Jessica Usagi, a tall woman with long dark hair and a snug blouse that showcases her ample endowments, when it comes to digital transfer and all kinds of computer languages there is no equal. Sitting close by her is her husband, Roger Usagi, a small, thin man with thick glasses and a white lab coat similar to the one that most grunts wore. However he was no mere grunt, he was one of the most gifted minds on the planet.
Across from Roger sits a man who appears like one more at home in a back alley than the white walled conference room in Sigma Labs. His shoulder length brown hair is a curly mess that is knotty from neglect, but it provides a perfectly logical match to his blood shot eyes and the black circles under them. His brown coat is ruined by numerous unidentifiable stains, and from it he pulls a small clear bottle of smoky black liquid, "Yeah yeah, whatever. Can we start the meeting yet or do we need to wait for Wheels and Scrooge?"
"Jonah's dead." Irons replies with a smirk, "Got cocky and declared himself the leader of Team Helix after the incident at Epsilon Labs."
"And he was promptly executed." Dr. Hector says, gesturing to the clean cut, ebony skinned man in the blue suit that is seated across from Irons, "This is the new 'Scrooge', Ferdinand M. Johnson."
Suddenly noticing the man next to Johnson, a youthful scientist with short blonde hair holding a stack of papers tightly, Dr. Hector's eyes narrow. "Who the fuck are you? Where is Jameson?"
The blonde haired man shuffles his stack of papers nervously, "My name is Gerald French, one of Dr. Jameson's aides. Dr. Jameson sends his best regards and news that the Starfall project has made a giant leap forward in the past twenty four hours and he is needed back at Maranatha Labs to oversee tests on the latest subjects."
The scarred man's eyes narrow behind his scowling mask, which most likely matches his face at the moment. Gerald's brow shines as he begins to nervously sweat under the diminutive man's critical gaze. Finally Dr. Hector speaks, "For a man born with no spine, Jameson sure has a lot of backbone to stand me up like this, again. When you return to Maranatha, make sure to let Jameson know that the next time he stands me up I'll have his head. Literally, it will make an excellent bookend on my office shelf."
Dr. Hector moves to take a seat at the head of the long table that dominates the conference room. He gestures to Gerald, "Since you've already told us a part of the report on the progress of Project Starfall, go ahead and tell us the rest."
Swallowing hard, Gerald shakily looks over the pages of his report. "Yes, well, there is still some difficulty in controlling the levels of symbiosis applied by the progenitor's spawn and an unacceptably high prevalence of psychological dysfunction in all subjects regardless of the level of corruption, even some of the researchers have been exhibiting signs of dysfunction. The exact cause for the transmission of the dysfunction to uncorrupted individuals is unknown and disturbing, and for a time slowed progress down as we sought a solution. Dr. Jameson believed it to be directly related to the progenitor's form and psychic powers. Psychic dampers have been applied to the progenitor's holding cell and this has led to a moderate decrease to complete elimination of psychosis in all afflicted individuals. We have also mandated the use of dark type pokémon by the security teams, though many continue to employ their personal pokémon in addition to the dark types. Dr. Jameson believes that if we can find a way to exert more control over the progenitor we may be able to attain complete control of the process."
"So, just what exactly was the giant leap forwards that kept the freewheeler at home?" Macready asks irritably as he unscrews the cap on his bottle, "You say the project has progressed significantly, but all you've told us about are problems. Where's the motherfuckin good news?"
Gerald swallows hard as the man takes a large swig from his bottle, his bloodshot eyes not wavering for a second as he stares the aide down. "I-I was just about to get to that."
"Well, get on with it then." Macready demands around a mouthful of liquid, "Some of us actually have work we want to be working on right now."
"Y-yes, of course." Gerald nods, "The progenitor has shown a desire to communicate, and Dr. Jameson believes that an agreement of sorts can be met so that we can effectively utilize the spawn to create humanoid bioweapons by altering humans and controlling them with psychic implants that mimic the progenitor's psychic signals."
Dr. Hector nods appreciatively, "That is a significant leap forwards, almost enough to warrant his not showing. Almost."
Rolling his eyes, Macready is obviously far from impressed. "Borrowed meat puppets." Macready snorts, "And what plan do you have for when your 'progenitor' wants control of his puppets back? Hmm? What then? I saw the file on the progenitor's capture when there were only a few spawn and a handful of his puppets. It took nearly thirty men and their pokémon in addition to their guns to merely capture it. Only three came out uninjured and half were dead."
"Which is precisely why I have Dr. Jameson working on that project." Dr. Hector testily answers for the aide, "He has experience working with psychics and is an excellent biologist. And being a powerful psychic himself he has the best opportunity to bring about a mutually beneficial agreement with the progenitor."
"I still think it's a bad idea to allow anything so hostile to life in general to exist." Macready mutters before downing the remains the small bottle and placing it back in his coat. "I figure I may as well go next since I'm already talking. Zephyr is coming along fairly well. We've managed to circumvent many of the power requirements of traditional mass transfer devices. We can now effectively transport matter effectively from one hub to another with about the twelfth of the power required for traditional teleportation tech. Thus large numbers of personnel and material can be transferred from a central base to any Zephyr hub, which could be easily installed into any Semi trailer."
Clapping quietly, Dr. Hector nods, "I am delighted to hear that, Macready. We now have the ability to move about the countryside pretty freely so long as we can place a hub where we want to go. How is the personal transport device going? The one that gives hub-free teleportation?"
Macready grimaces, "Not nearly so well. Most of our techs were stumped until one of them suggested modeling it on the teleportation that psychic pokémon use. However, that requires working with pokepsychics and psychic pokémon, and most of my crew is antagonistic towards psychics in general, human or otherwise." He stops and takes a new bottle of black liquid from his coat and opens it, "And I believe that we are all aware of my own shining record with diplomacy and people skills. As such, we have made little progress. Perhaps if we were to get a pokepsychic tech from Wheels so we can get some technical answers from the psychics or pokepsychics…" he trails off looking at Dr. Hector hopefully.
Dr. Hector glances at Gerald and shakes his head, "I doubt that a transfer will be easily obtained, even with death threats. However, I will work on convincing Jameson to loan you a technician with psychic ability, preferably one that is capable of communicating on the same mental wavelengths as psychic pokémon." Dr. Hector turns his gaze to Roger Usagi, "And how goes the Zeus project?"
"It goes well." Roger replies, "We have successfully managed to produce a number of beam attacks independent of living pokémon. The data from the ROTOMB project was very useful, and some of our techs managed to find some interesting applications for the soulharnessing procedure used therein. It turns out elemental energies can be imbued into inorganic objects to create much more effective weapons. As of this moment the applications are rather limited to potential use by Iron's armored troops, however I believe that with a little more"
"Roger," Interrupts Dr. Hector, "I brought you on board to develop elemental weaponry for use from orbit. Not so you could make fancy toys for Michael's boys. Have you managed to do anything more than baubles?"
"Y-yessir." Roger stammers, fidgeting with his glasses. "We have managed to use the crystals from ampharos tails to manufacture thunder cannons. Unfortunately their range is limited to about fifty yards and the weapon itself is prone to catastrophic overload. Using the chest crystals from gardevoir we are able to make a variety of telekinetic weaponry including a psybeam cannon capable of devastating a fortified position at a range of a mile, though the recharge rate is rather abysmal at well over a day between shots. Our most effective endeavor has been using the spheres from a dragonair to produce a dragon type beam weapon. The range and power of this weapon are directly related to the number of orbs linked together it only takes a dozen orbs to power a weapon capable of punching a hole through two steelix lined up head to tail from a range of three miles. It can fire once every five minutes and the orb number to power level ratio is a generous one, not quite exponential but very generous indeed."
Dr. Hector laughs, "Excellent! So it wouldn't take more than six dozen to make an orbital weapon capable of destroying all the military installations of an entire nation within hours!"
"Yes, well, unfortunately, both range and power are inversely proportional to the area of affect, and the rate of decrease in power and range as the area of affect widens is also exponential."
"Meaning…"
"Meaning that even with twelve dozen orbs you would be unable to reach a single facility from space with an area of effect capable of doing damage to the entire facility, let alone destroy it in a single strike. With a large number of these weapons a phalanx style barrage would produce the desired effect, but considering the rarity of dragonair this is hardly a cost effective method. The area of affect for the beam that pierced the two steelix was approximately the size of a quarter. That makes the weapon, which is approximately the size of a gym bag and can be shoulder mounted for use by armored or unarmored personnel, an excellent one for eliminating key targets, such as leaders of state, in a flashy manner. However as a tool for orbital bombardment it is useless. So far the best orbital weapon appears to be the hyperbeam that can be created by channeling electrical energy through a series of rapidly rotating starmie crystals. The ratio of power input to output is approximately 1:10, and the range exceeds ten miles. The exact power and effect details are in my report along with all the other weapons we have managed to create."
"My god, you are a wordy bastard." Macready groans, "Please, be less of a windbag than your hubby, Lopunny."
Dr. Hector chuckles, "What is the status on Olympus? Are we ready to launch?"
"Almost." Jessica usage replies, giving Macready a dirty look, "The appropriate control protocols are in place so that my porygon-Z will all be able to control the construction drones. Most of the drones and supplies have been manufactured, all we need is a launch site." She pauses, "And the rocket of course. All other plans for Olympus are in my report along with the list of needed materials." She shoots Macready another scowl, "Short enough for you, you drunken son of a bitch?"
Macready holds up a finger, his middle one actually, as he takes a chugs the contents of a third bottle of black fluid. He slams the now empty bottle down with a loud 'ahhh', "Not drunken just yet sweetie, those were my espresso bottles, the Black Russians come later. I've got plenty for the both of us back at my place if you want to share."
"Go fuck yourself Macready."
Macready waggles a hand, "Don't make me bring out the pimp hand, Lopunny."
"Children, please." Dr. Hector interrupts loudly, "The sooner we can finish this meeting the sooner we can all go our separate ways and get back to things we would much rather be doing. Michael, I believe you are up next."
"Yes, the majority of my troops have undergone the initial rounds of hormone therapy and implant surgery. Over the next couple of weeks the first squad will be armored and trained for use of their armor and new loadouts. By the beginning of next month they will be operational and ready for real combat." Irons says with a smirk, "I believe they will impress even you."
"I look forwards to that then." Dr. Hector replies with a nod, "As you have probably heard by now, earlier this month we had the first successful infusion of genetic material into a human test subject since the initial chimeran. Unfortunately, there was a catastrophic containment failure and she escaped with the aid of a human Master of Aura known to the public as The Runaway and his lucario. My technicians, and myself, are all trying to determine just what made for a perfect infusion in this subject and the chimeran but not the others. The answer is there, we have not found it yet though. Once it is found we will begin testing in earnest."
Dr. Hector clasps his hands behind his back and clears his throat, "Well, that is all! You are now free to move about and attend to your own matters." He quickly turns and leaves the room, his long lab coat flaring out behind him as he does so.
He doesn't get far down the hall however before Irons catches up to him, "Are you very busy right now, ?"
Dr. Hector glances over at Irons, "Am I ever not busy?"
"Only very rarely, sir." Irons replies with a smirk, "What I should have asked is, are you too busy to help me deal with that Rocket messenger?"
Dr. Hector chuckles, "Absolutely not."
Dr. Hector follows Irons to another conference room where a man with a briefcase is sitting at the far end of a conference table as he fiddles with a phone. On the man's white jacket there is a red R, marking him as a member of Team Rocket and one in a position of some significance judging from his outfit and the two grunts to either side of him with pokéballs in hand. Looking up from his phone he raises a brow in amusement, "Dr. Hector himself, fascinating. I was only expecting to meet with a staff member, or at best Mr. Irons here."
Dr. Hector nods, "Irons has requested my assistance in meeting with you, and I agreed. It will be a welcome relief from staring at a screen full of data for hours on end."
"I'm encouraged to hear your enthusiasm for working with us."
"You shouldn't be." Dr. Hector replies coldly as he lifts his hands. There is a loud bang and a salvo of spines fly from his sleeves. The grunt's are dead before they hit the ground.
The Rocket messenger leaps to his feet, "What the hell have you done?"
"I killed them." Dr. Hector replies flatly, rolling his neck as he walks around the table towards the last Rocket. He shakes out his arms, discarding the hidden spine launchers that had been attached to his forearms. "Do you really think we rose to a position of dominance in this country by being stupid? We know that you have moles in our organization. Thirteen to be exact. All dead."
The Rocket swallows hard as Dr. Hector draws closer, "The power of Giovanni is absolute, you will pay for this betrayal!"
Hector stops in his tracks a few feet away from the Rocket. "Me, betray Giovanni?" he snarls, "He betrayed ME!" Dr. Hector lunges forwards, grabbing the man by the collar and slamming him on the table. "I put my own blood, sweat and tears into his scientific schemes and all I asked for in return was the chance to use some of what we discovered and a fraction of the resources provided for our work for just one day! ONE!"
In a display of surprising strength, Dr. Hector hurls the man across the table to tumble to the ground with his briefcase. "I developed the process by which a living organism's DNA could be altered seamlessly! I made the ultimate result of project Mewtwo, the crown jewel of Team Rocket's scientific sector, a reality by enabling the genetic alteration of live clones possible! All the fine tuning required after the embryo stage to fashion the ultimate pokémon, that was my work! My brainchild! And how does that sunovabitch repay me?"
BANG!
Dr. Hector stumbles back as the Rocket rises to his feet, a Team Helix revolver in his outstretched hands.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Dr. Hector jerks under the force of the bullets hitting his chest, his head snapping backwards as the final shot strikes his steel face mask and he drops like a stone.
Irons stares at the Rocket in shock, and misses the narrow window of opportunity as the man quickly reloads the revolver and turns it on Irons. "Heh, you knew we had moles, but you obviously didn't know we already managed to get a hold of a few of your new toys."
Irons sighs and shakes his head, "Of course we knew. All recruits get those, we just didn't think you'd be dumb enough to walk in here with one, let alone use it. Then again, you were as good as dead the moment you walked into this facility."
"Yes," the Rocket says with a shrug as he walks towards Irons. "But I cut off the head of Team Helix! Justice has been delivered to the traitor."
Irons smirks, "Are you sure?"
The Rocket frowns, lowering the gun slightly, "Are you blind? I just shot the bastard five times in the chest and once in the head for Cresselia's sake!"
Suddenly a hand grabs the Rocket by the hair and slams his head against the table, and then does it again and again. Finally the rocket is released and he looks up in a daze to find Dr Hector standing over him. "Impossible. I killed you."
"No, you shot me. There is a difference." Dr. Hector growls his voice barely audible through the cracked mask. "The very first thing one does after developing a weapon he intends to distribute to his troops is to insure it can't be used against him effectively. Recruit's guns only have half the power of a veteran's gun, and we made armor plates a part of the uniform ages ago for a reason." Dr. Hector pulls a revolver from underneath his coat and places it against the Rocket's temple, "Now it is time for you to disappear."
~0~
"I never cease to be amazed by the mess these weapons make of a body." Dr. Hector chuckles as he scrubs his hands in the bathroom sink, the water running pink as it flows over his hands.
"Are you sure you are alright?" Irons asks from a few feet away, eyeing Dr. Hector warily. "I mean he did shoot you in the head."
"My mask took most of the impact." He replies with what can be assumed to be a smile judging from his tone. "I designed it in a similar manner to the armor plates, so I'm fine. Just going to have a nasty headache and some facial bruising for a while."
Chuckling, Irons shakes his head in disbelief, "Has anyone told you that you are a tough old bird? What are you now? Sixty? Seventy?"
"Yes, I've also been called a godless heathen." Shaking his hands dry he reaches up and readjusts his mask, which has become crooked again. "I have not denied either. However, as far as age is concerned, I believe you are only as old as you feel. Right now I feel older than dirt, I'll be in my quarters until tomorrow. Standard procedure."
"Not to be disturbed unless it is a true emergency or a major breakthrough in Project Ascension." Irons intones with a smile, "Violators will be shot. Survivors will be shot again."
"Glad to know you've got it memorized."
~0~
The door to Dr. Hector's personal chambers hisses open and the man himself slowly walks into the dark room. He snaps his fingers and a red light springs to life, illuminating the large bedroom in shades of crimson. In one corner of the room there is a large bed and along one wall is a sturdy looking desk with a shelf over it. Walking over to the desk, Dr. Hector sighs and reaches out a hand to stroke the lone item that sits atop the wooden desktop.
A feraligatr skull.
If only he had been stronger then, maybe he would have been able to merely take what he needed in order to save her. But he hadn't been strong enough had he, and Scylla had died a very preventable death. If he had learned nothing else that day, it was that the strong made the rules by which all must abide, and that Giovanni was a heartless bastard.
A low hiss pulls Dr. Hector out of his musings and he looks up to see an enormous Arbok looking down at him. He chuckles, "Good evening Jormundgar."
Leaning in close to the masked man, tasting the air around him. Suddenly her eyes widen and she slips her tongue through one of the bullet holes in Dr. Hector's shirt. Lifting her head to look at Dr. Hector's damaged mask she lets out a concerned hissing.
"Don't worry, I only got shot a couple times."
Jormundgar lets out an exasperated huff and Dr. Hector allows himself to be pushed along until they reach the bed. Swiftly coiling around the doctor, Jormundgar lifts him up onto the bed and begins to use her nimble tail to strip off his upper garments until only the trauma plate strapped to his chest remains. The ceramic surface is shot through with cracks and where the bullets impacted the steel core is easily visible and obviously dented.
"See? None of the bullets went through, nothing to worry about!" Dr. Hector laughs as he sits up, pushing Jormundgar's head away from his chest. "I swear you are worse than my mother ever was."
There is a loud whoosh accompanied by a flash of blue energies and Dr. Hector's chest plate falls forwards away from his chest, the back straps incinerated by the draconic energies of Jormundgar's surgically precise application of Dragon Tail. Dr. Hector stiffens reflexively, "My dear, a gentle nudge would have been more than sufficient I think."
Jormundgar lets out a giggle of sorts before gently pushing Dr. Hector onto his back again. With the armor out of the way now his surprisingly toned chest is visible, with its obscene crisscrossing network of gash and burn scars, and now in addition to that are five large bruises from the bullet impacts.
Opening her mouth wide, Jormundgar extends her fangs, a single drop of her potent venom forming at the end of one of them. Carefully taking this drop of venom with the fork of her tongue she spreads the small amount of venom over Dr. Hector's bruises. The potent toxin goes to work quickly, inducing numbness in the affected areas and gradually eliminating much of the pains from Dr. Hector's injuries all together.
"Thank you, nurse J." Dr. Hector sighs as he lays back once more onto the bed, at least until Jormundgar begins tugging on the waistband of his pants. He lifts himself up onto his elbows to look down at Jormundgar who is doing her best to give him bedroom eyes while gently pulling on the front of his pants with her mouth. The whole 'bedroom eyes' thing is not exactly an easy thing for forty foot snakes to pull off, but Jormundgar is doing a pretty good job of it. Dr. Hector chuckles and runs a hand lovingly over Jormundgar's snout, "I take it we are interested in a much more thorough physical examination of the patient? I certainly think I can accommodate you with that."