Freakish creatures had invaded the complex, writhing, insect-like
creatures. They had the upper torso of a man, and the rest of the body was
that of a large scorpions. They bore no claws but they somehow shot out a
cluster of small needles at their opponent. "SHIT WALLACE, OPEN THAT DAMN
DOOR! WE NEED TO GET IN THERE!" Reeves yelled from the next room.
The creatures crawled ever closer to the group. Reeves knocked a table on its side and used it for some minor defense. He pulled out the Telefragger to help "join the cause." The freaks' insides imploded.
"Crap!" Wallace grunted to himself. The only way to get this door open was to use someone's power armor. But who's? Youngman was already out of power, and Reeves would need his…but my…mine? Without this armor I'm dead! He checked his supply. A small LCD screen read: POWER AMOUNT: 79%. If we don't get this door open we're dead. "Uh, REEVES? YOU GOT ANY POWER LEFT?"
Reeves looked down for a second. "YEAH! I'M AT 35%" Crap. Uhh. Uhm. "REEVES! I am gonna need your power armor!" Reeves rushed over, having to leave the armor-less Youngman out to fight.
"Don't you have any power left in yours?" Reeves questioned.
"N-no, I tried hooking mine up, and uhm, a fuse broke! It sucked all the power out of my suit."
"All right, here" Reeves tugged the armor off and let Wallace hook a plug into it.
The LCD screen's numbers rolled all the way down to 14%, when the door opened. "Shit that's barely anything" Reeves argued, "At least we got the door open. Youngman, c'mon! Through the door quick!" The bunch ran in, quickly lowering the huge mechanical door behind them.
"We're safe!" Youngman yelled.
"Yes, but only for now" Wallace corrected, "This…is the chemical research room, one step closer to the slipgates. He pulled out a map. The entrance to the short-range slipgates is right in front of us. The long-range ones are just beyond that; they are the source of this trouble. C'mon, get up guys. We gotta get to the end of this section."
Reeves and Wallace popped up, with some struggle Youngman got up too. Chemical Research was filled was a twisting-labyrinthine maze. Each table
was topped with glowing green materials, like the stuff you'd see in a movie. Radiation was filling their lungs. They needed to get out of there quick. They had found themselves somewhere near the end of the room, but confronted with a problem. There was a chemical spill. It was very thick, and far too wide to jump. Reeves tried constructing a bridge of office materials but he could only reach halfway before the rest melted or burned. There was an exit to Chemical Storage, however this was the source of the spill, making it quite impossible to get into. The only other room to access from here was the waste management sanction; this would bring them farther from their goal, and was somewhat of a dead-end. It was their only option.
The waste management sanction had one small office in front, leading into a mechanical nightmare. It was a dark, damp environment, filled with black-grime, rusty machines, melting, crushing, and disintegrated garbage. It stunk like hell too. They dodged in and out of super-massive trash compactors. They sped through boiling hot cages for melting biohazard materials. They blasted apart, prototype machines that digitally ripped material into space fabric. All their hard work paid off. There only way out now was through a system of pipes, tubes, and narrow tunnels. They would be traveling the roads made for harmful gas and non-recyclable materials, but they were fit for kings.
The creatures crawled ever closer to the group. Reeves knocked a table on its side and used it for some minor defense. He pulled out the Telefragger to help "join the cause." The freaks' insides imploded.
"Crap!" Wallace grunted to himself. The only way to get this door open was to use someone's power armor. But who's? Youngman was already out of power, and Reeves would need his…but my…mine? Without this armor I'm dead! He checked his supply. A small LCD screen read: POWER AMOUNT: 79%. If we don't get this door open we're dead. "Uh, REEVES? YOU GOT ANY POWER LEFT?"
Reeves looked down for a second. "YEAH! I'M AT 35%" Crap. Uhh. Uhm. "REEVES! I am gonna need your power armor!" Reeves rushed over, having to leave the armor-less Youngman out to fight.
"Don't you have any power left in yours?" Reeves questioned.
"N-no, I tried hooking mine up, and uhm, a fuse broke! It sucked all the power out of my suit."
"All right, here" Reeves tugged the armor off and let Wallace hook a plug into it.
The LCD screen's numbers rolled all the way down to 14%, when the door opened. "Shit that's barely anything" Reeves argued, "At least we got the door open. Youngman, c'mon! Through the door quick!" The bunch ran in, quickly lowering the huge mechanical door behind them.
"We're safe!" Youngman yelled.
"Yes, but only for now" Wallace corrected, "This…is the chemical research room, one step closer to the slipgates. He pulled out a map. The entrance to the short-range slipgates is right in front of us. The long-range ones are just beyond that; they are the source of this trouble. C'mon, get up guys. We gotta get to the end of this section."
Reeves and Wallace popped up, with some struggle Youngman got up too. Chemical Research was filled was a twisting-labyrinthine maze. Each table
was topped with glowing green materials, like the stuff you'd see in a movie. Radiation was filling their lungs. They needed to get out of there quick. They had found themselves somewhere near the end of the room, but confronted with a problem. There was a chemical spill. It was very thick, and far too wide to jump. Reeves tried constructing a bridge of office materials but he could only reach halfway before the rest melted or burned. There was an exit to Chemical Storage, however this was the source of the spill, making it quite impossible to get into. The only other room to access from here was the waste management sanction; this would bring them farther from their goal, and was somewhat of a dead-end. It was their only option.
The waste management sanction had one small office in front, leading into a mechanical nightmare. It was a dark, damp environment, filled with black-grime, rusty machines, melting, crushing, and disintegrated garbage. It stunk like hell too. They dodged in and out of super-massive trash compactors. They sped through boiling hot cages for melting biohazard materials. They blasted apart, prototype machines that digitally ripped material into space fabric. All their hard work paid off. There only way out now was through a system of pipes, tubes, and narrow tunnels. They would be traveling the roads made for harmful gas and non-recyclable materials, but they were fit for kings.