RVB Arrancars Meta Arc
Chapter 18!
Director: Dear Chairman.
Fade in to the Freelancers attacking the structure.
Director: I don't give a damn about your committee and its opinions of my work! Have you forgotten Sir, we were at war? A fight with an alien race for the very survival of our species? I feel I must remind you, that it is an undeniable, and may I say a fundamental quality of Man, that when faced with extinction, every alternative is preferable!
Cut to Skullak and Wash running up a ramp.
Soldier: Over here, over here!
Washington: Get that door!
The door closes behind them and they arrive with the Reds.
Skullak: What's the status up here?
Nirgge: Fucked up, 'bout to die, Findor is a nerd... the usual.
Baraggan: Looks like we've got at least half a dozen squads out there. They know our position, and we're outgunned.
Washington: So, what's the plan?
Baraggan: Well we were gonna retreat down the hall until you just brought more guards up that way, so now the plan's pretty much to go down swinging. You first.
Nirgge: Hey Findor, can you get back on that computer and change my affiliation from Red to Freelancer?
Findor: Traitor.
Nirgge: Hey, you gotta go with the winner.
Di-Roy: Um, could you change my job title to something more important like astronaut-oh, I know, Space Marine!
Skullak: What are you idiots doing?
Findor: This computer has all of Command's records.
Skullak: It does? Records on everybody?
Findor: Yeah. You know, theoretically.
Findor alt-tab's the screen to something benign to no longer show the big BLUES DELETED on screen.
Findor: Hup du-doo, doo doo, nothin' to see here, doo doo doo doo...
Skullak: Oh great, now I'll show you that you're wrong.
Washington: What an excellent idea.
Findor: Wrong about what?
Skullak: Wash has been trying to convince me, that I'm, an A.I.
Nirgge: Hunh? Why would he do that?
Washington: Because he's transparent? He can take over other people, you know, that kind of stuff.
Nirgge: That's because he's a ghost dude.
Skullak: Thank you, that's what I said.
Washington: If he's a ghost, why aren't any of the other soldiers turning in to ghosts?
Skullak: Okay fine, why don't we just settle this? Findor, look me up in the database.
Findor: Yeah I'd like to help, but we may have just kind of, you know, deleted all that stuff for the Blues.
Washington: All of what stuff for the Blues?
Findor: The everything stuff?
Washington: Didn't I tell you not to touch anything?
Findor: Yes. But, you also told us to break stuff. This seemed like an excellent compromise.
Skullak: Alright, great, that's fantastic now I can't prove him wrong, and I don't get a paycheck. Fucking great, thanks guys.
Baraggan: And your side never existed! Which means Red wins. Suck it you non-existant losers!
Skullak: Doh nobody gives a fuck about that.
Baraggan: Sour grapes.
Nirgge: No way, he's not a computer.
Baraggan: How can we be sure?
Di-Roy: Maybe we should ask him something only a computer would know.
Findor: Like what?
Di-Roy: What's nine times eight?
The Reds: Seventy two.
Di-Roy: Oh my God it's spreading.
Nirgge: How 'bout this: show me some porn.
Skullak: What?
Findor: What?
Baraggan: What?
Nirgge: That's what all my computers do. Oh, oh, uh, uh, steal some music for me. Oh or uh uh, talk about politics and bore the shit out of me.
Di-Roy: Do you have any pictures of cats in serious situations?
Washington: Because of the trauma he's been through, he's not going to be able to access most of his functions. He may not even realise his full potential.
Baraggan: Not living up to his potential? That means Nirgge's a computer too.
Washington: It doesn't matter. We don't need him to believe. Until the next time we encounter the Meta.
There's a loud sound of something landing on top of the building.
Washington: What the Hell was that!?
Baraggan: Come on, do you even need to ask?
The Meta half-materializes on top of the building and the Freelancers stop firing.
Soldier: Primary target has arrived. Engage, engage!
Open fire.
Skullak: The Meta, how'd he get inside the compound?
Findor: What do you mean how, it took us like ten minutes. Not that hard.
Washington: Perfect.
Skullak: Perfect?
Washington: He's been following us since I found Di-Roy. I knew he couldn't resist getting his hands on all the stored Command A.I.s. Especially Epsilon.
Skullak: You knew about this?
Washington: Knew about it? I planned on it. Still have Epsilon?
Skullak: Yeah, of course.
Washington: Good, let's get it to safety. Then we can finish this. Once and for all.
Skullak: You know I'm starting not to trust you.
Baraggan: What do you mean startin' to?
Cut to Wash, the reds and blues arriving at a garage with several jeeps.
Nirgge: What is this, the motor pool?
Washington: Yes. Looks like everyone is outside fighting the Meta. Still, be careful. Red, you grab a vehicle. Di-roy, somehow I hate to ask this, but, can you drive?
Di-Roy: Yes. But not an automatic; only stick.
Washington: Why can't you drive-
Nirgge: We're in a rush, come back to it later.
Washington: Right. Di-roy, grab that car. Skullak, put Epsilon in Di-Roy's jeep. You guys are gonna make a break for it. Take Epsilon and turn him over to the authorities. They'll know what to do with him.
Baraggan: You're not comin'?
Washington: No. Skullak and I are staying. Project Freelancer had one last resort failsafe: a high power E.M.P. that can wipe out all the A.I. in this facility. Now that the Meta is here we have a chance to take them all out at once and put this entire project out of commission.
Nirgge: What's an E.M.P.?
Washington: It's an electo-magnetic pulse. It wipes out all circuitry and computers it touches. It will destroy the A.I.-
Findor: Oh, you mean an Emp.
Baraggan: Yeah, I was just about to say. Sounds like he's talkin' 'bout an Emp.
Washington: Emp? That's not how you say it.
Baraggan: That's how most people say it. "Emp."
Washington: No, they don't.
Skullak: I say it that way.
Washington: It's initials for Electro, Magnetic, Pulse. That's E.M.P.
Nirgge: Right. Which spells Emp. Durr.
Washington: We don't have time for this. You're wrong.
Findor: Why don't we take a vote.
Washington: A vote? No. No vote, you're just wrong. There's no vote, it's E.M.P.
Di-Roy: Not very democratic.
Washington: Being wrong isn't a Democracy. Skullak and I will work our way down to the Director's lab while the rest of you escape.
Baraggan: What if the Meta follows us?
Washington: No chance. There's no way he can pass up all the A.I. in here. Put Epsilon in the car and let's get moving.
Skullak: I'm leaving. I'm going with them.
Washington: What?
Skullak: Wash, I don't give a shit about any of this. I hate you, I hate the Freelancers, I hate everything about you guys. This isn't my fight; it's yours.
Washington: It's your fight more than anyone else's!
Skullak: I don't care what you say, no, it isn't.
Washington: Skullak, you'll never get another shot at fixing all of this. I know you don't believe what I've told you, but you need to ask yourself, what if I'm right? If I am, or if you have any doubts, not finding out will haunt you for the rest of your life. Not just finding out about you but, finding out about everyone close to you as well. It's your choice. What's it going to be?