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Cerulean hesitated -- to be honest, she wasn't sure.  She knew very little about the field of dimensional physics and methods of reality-breaching, and she certainly couldn't do it herself, but....

Well.  Again, to be honest, this sort of esoteric stuff usually fascinated her to some degree, which is why she often found herself reading some of the strangest things online, lured there by nested Wikipedia links or *shudder* TV Tropes.

"Uh," she replied intelligently, as always ready with a quick reply and, um, verbal pauses.  "I guess it'd probably be pretty educational," she admitted, with a thought toward the fact that she was supposed to be on a school-approved field trip here.  She noticed that her fingers had nearly gotten her to Tumblr on Fleur's Freedom Fone by unconscious habit, and she quickly locked the device again.  Bad Ceruelan, not your phone!

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"All right, perfect," Fleur declared, after the robot and the cyborg voiced no objections to the plan. Within a few minutes, Artoo was safely charging in a secured room, Vigil was waiting in the conference room with a tray of snacks in case he was hungrier than he'd admit, and the three heroines were off to the lab. Fleur was as good as her word in securing radiation suits for all of them, even if each one was emblazoned with the Freedom League insignia across the shoulder, and as far as protective suits went, they really weren't too bad. She called her people on Sanctuary and asked them to put together a box of supplies to hold three people for three days if necessary, and dug around inside a large fuchsia flower until she'd satisfied herself that she had a change of clothes handy. "I wanted to ask you, Dragonfly," she told the engineer, "do you think you might be able to come up with a couple of devices that could give these guys access to like one other dimension each, maybe not even the same dimension, but something where they could get supplies or even relocate if they wanted? I know a couple of places that are empty but okay, if you can deal with some hostile animal life anyway. I can't fix everything wrong with their planet, I know that, but at least maybe this would give them a way out or up or something," she suggested with a shrug. Away from the visitors, she seemed less certain and in charge, and rather more human. 

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"No," was Dragonfly's immediate response, though her body language spoke of a mind that realized how that sounded immediately after it hit her own ears, and she made a vague hand motion as she re-gathered the thought. "I mean, yes, but no. Could build that, certainly; have done it before, under bad circumstances. Not easy, not simple, but doable. But, won't. Not giving unknown, potentially dangerous factions that kind of technology. Too risky, invites trouble. Stupid people would misuse it. Really stupid people would weaponize it. Smart stupid people would reverse-engineer it, come right back here, or go somewhere vulnerable. Nope, no."

"Besides," she added, the radiation suit disappearing into nothingness the way the box had, "if that device was their best shot at dimensional travel it'd be like giving atom-splitting to the Roman Empire. Too far behind technology curve to understand consequences of meddling. Too far forward to not try anyway."

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Cerulean watched Fleur somehow rummage around in a flower that had way more space inside of it than it should have, and Dragonfly make things vanish into thin air, and hovered there with her hands full of radiation suit, wondering if she'd be able to stuff it into her purse -- if her purse wasn't currently inaccessible, that was.

Apparently, some sort of bag-of-holding/hammerspace power was all the rage amongst the superheroic ladies at the moment, and she wondered if there was any way she could figure out how to pull off that kind of effect.  Add it to the list of 'experiments that need running' and stick a pin in it for now.

"Yeah, I can't say that the idea of giving these guys working technology to go bouncing around the universes sounds like a good idea," she agreed with Dragonfly, awkwardly trying to fold the radiation suit into some sort of workable bundle as she spoke.  "Especially these guys.  This isn't a case of good guys, bad guys -- it's subjectively bad guys vs subjectively also bad guys," she added dryly.  "I say help 'em get things fixed up to the point where survival isn't in doubt, and then let them rebuild from there.  Letting them out to loot other dimensions for resources not only sounds like a bad idea, long term, but also...cheating?" she suggested dubiously.

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Fleur was quiet for a minute, rubbing her forehead with the fingers of one hand as she tried to work through the new angles of the situation. "I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with," she told Dragonfly finally. "I know they're most likely not good people, and the potential for abuse is high. If we help them, we could well be enabling them to do bad things in the future. But they're all probably going to die if we don't do something," she pointed out, spreading her hands helplessly. "I've been to worlds before where the bombs have dropped, and I've seen what it looks like after twenty or fifty or seventy five years. They're only a couple of decades into what is likely to be a horrifying and very slow end. I can help rejuvenate what growing facilities they have, give them more resilient seed stock that will handle cold and drought, but it's not going to keep them alive in a world where the temperature has permanently dropped and the sky is obscured and the oceans are dead. If three billion people died just in the war, they've probably half of that again in starvation and sickness. And I don't know a way to fix it." 

She dropped into a chair and looked over at Cerulean, her face bleak. "And maybe it is cheating, maybe it's meddling. But the people alive now didn't cause this. They're suffering for something that was done to them, and that there's no way they can fix or stop. But if they can leave, they might have a chance." 

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"No intention of leaving a world of people to die," Dragonfly assured the other heroes, nodding once. "One of the reasons I want us to see them. Three-person assessment, perspectives, all good data. Help people, punish anyone responsible, certainly. But extremely unlikely to give them any new technology."

She paused, though one hand was seemingly independently gesturing at a drone that had only just appeared; it started projecting assorted charts and graphs that probably had something to do with the metaphysical location of the dimension they'd be visiting. "Could help jump-start benign technology they already have, though. Acceptable risks for some sciences. Electric generators, sure. Hydro power, geothermal, useful industry maybe. Nuclear, no. Defenses, unlikely."

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Well.  Cerulean didn't exactly know what she could contribute in the way of world-saving, or at the very least world-refurbishing -- unless her Light had a hitherto-unknown ability to heal damaged plant life and accelerate growth or something -- but that didn't mean she wouldn't make what effort she could.  Worrying about what she couldn't do wasn't the heroic way -- she had to get out there and do what she could do to help, even if it was nothing more than showing that amazing things were still out there.

"All right, so letting a world slowly fall apart so everyone dies isn't an option, check," she told the other two women with enthusiasm.  "So?  Shall we go put it back together again through sheer chutzpah?" she asked them cheerfully, smacking one fist into the other palm with a crisp sound of impact.  Time to get this party started!

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Fleur studied Cerulean for a moment, as though trying to decide whether the girl was being sarcastic or not, then let it go. "I guess we should get going then," she told the others, rising and checking her pouches one last time. They were strapped on over her radiation suit now, and would be awkward to access with gloves, but she'd figure something out. "If anybody needs to use the restroom, now's the time. Let's get Hatfield and McCoy back together, we'll leave from the conference room in ten minutes." She snugged the blue hood of her suit up to cover her green hair and headed out down the hallway, then immediately stuck her head back in. "Oh, and if either of you have any food allergies, now's the time to speak up," 

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"No, no food allergies," Dragonfly confirmed. She was double-checking something in her drone's holographic display, but she was apparently satisfied; she dismissed it with a wave, the little robot disappearing into whatever pocket dimension it had come from with an electronic chirping noise.

"Bathroom is a good idea, though," she added, directing that last comment at Cerulean as they left the room. "Will probably do that myself. Never hurts; prevents awkwardness later. Suit...technically has facilities built in, for emergencies," the engineer admitted, "but prefer to not use them. Design still needs work. Plus, still has to be disposed of eventually. Conservation of mass."

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Cerulean rose and followed, a faint blue contrail following her like an afterimage as she drifted along just above the floor.

"Nope, no food allergies as of yet, and I eat enough that I probably would have run across them by now," she agreed cheerfully.  "And, yeah, bathroom is probably a good idea," she agreed, glancing down at herself.  "This isn't even exactly a costume, really, as far as I can tell -- it doesn't come off.  I'm not sure I can use the bathroom like this, but I know I'm not exempt from needing to do so, so..."  She trailed off and shrugged.

"Yeah.  I'd like to keep the time I'm powered down to a minimum if I can, so going before we go is the way to go, y'know?"  That, and she'd need to get her radiation suit on -- she didn't want to trust to fate that her powers protected her from radiation, unless she absolutely had to.

"So, uh, where's the bathroom around here?" she asked hesitantly.

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Their arrival placed them in Liberty Park, or rather what had once been Liberty Park - the closest thing to a green space the new dimension had. Artoo and Vigil stood on either side of the trio of heroines, though Vigil had wanted to stay close to his 'prisoner', Artoo's vigorous resistance to that idea meant that cyborg and robot had all of the visiting heroes on either side of them. The area they were in was familiar enough to them from their own version of Freedom City - this part of the park faced the Goodman Building almost directly, the clear space was a popular spot for Atom Family fans to stand and take pictures of the building or try and catch a glimpse of the famous heroes. At this time of year and at this time of day, it should have been swarming with people. 

They were standing on bare, nearly dead ground; a small spray of weeds having allowed their transition to this place. Before them stood a structure that should have been the Goodman Building, and perhaps once had been - but was now horribly changed. The skyscraper, still bearing the obvious scorch marks left behind from the nuclear strike that had set much of this part of Freedom City aflame twenty years earlier, had been reshaped into a form that vaguely resembled a human skull with vast, staring cavities over a massive, wide-stretching mouth carved right into the structure of the building itself. It was instantly recognizable to any Freedom City hero as the face of Talos himself. 

All around them, the city bore scars of first fire, then an inhuman restructuring with little regard for human aesthetics - whole buildings left to simply rot in twenty years of weather, others plated over with flat, dull grey metal that had become distinctly corroded. Further south in the city things looked more polished, with gleaming skyscrapers visible, but there was none of that here. A few dozen yards away, where a natural lake should have been, stood a tent city of humans, some of them dressed in the same ersatz leather style as Vigil. The rest wore identical-looking grey tunics, clothing somewhere between a machine's idea of efficient and prison garb. 

The ground everywhere looked nearly dead, and in fact the small spray of weeds on which they stood were the only visible plants. The air stunk of human waste and gasoline, and the sky above was an ominous shade of dirty brown. Clouds of smoke were rising from somewhere behind the Goodman Building but before the pleasant-looking areas closer to the ocean; and the stench of burning was strong. The machines cared little for the planet they had won; at least according to Artoo. No alarms sounded at their approach, and for a moment no one looked their way - after all, they were inside the defense perimeter Artoo had described with its plasma cannons and warbots, the latter two being a good mile away towards the irradiated interior of what had once been New Jersey. But Talos' palace, the mutilated remains of the Goodman Building, was swarming with armed guards, both cybernetic and mechanical, and surely they'd be seen soon. 

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Having survived her first dimensional transfer without ill effect, Cerulean looked furtively about the 'park' upon their arrival.  She was on edge, and for good reason -- all of her defenses were down.  One thing that her powers unarguably weren't well suited for was stealth -- they were bright, fairly obvious, and the sort of thing that attracted attention.  So, while she would have preferred to be hovering, with full shields up, and the area surrounding them illuminated with her Light to help uncover any hidden surprises, that likely would have resulted in their being spotted immediately.

So, instead, she huddled inside her radiation suit, all powers dampened for the moment and not shedding a single stray ray of blue illumination.  She held herself ready to throw her defenses up in an instant if things went south, but for the moment she had to wait.

She hated waiting.

"...so, what's next?" she asked in a low tone, unable to take her eyes off the massive, leering skull the tower had become.  Creepy.

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"Well, this is super-friendly," Fleur murmured, looking around and up with an expression of mingled horror and disbelief. "I really like what he's done with the place. Very Castle Grayskull." She looked around, then opened one of her pouches. "They're bound to notice us soon. Might as well not put our light under a bushel... as it were," she added, glancing towards the teenage hero beside her. "Anything bad starts to happen, you get behind us, Cerulean, all right?" 

With a practiced flick of her wrist, Fleur strewed seeds across the blasted ground, the tiny pellets making a soft sound like rain as they fell. The scent of fresh flowers began to perfume the air as the plant controller began to exert herself, rather beyond her typical displays on Prime or even on Sanctuary. She rarely concerned herself with putting on a show in either of those places, but here it seemed as though a benevolent demonstration might be in order. The first plants to sprout were tiny, a thick layer of dark green moss that blanketed the ground in seconds, covering a radius nearly the size of a football field all around them, exuding a pungent, earthy smell that only intensified as the groundcover blackened and decomposed into a thin layer of humus on the ground. Seconds later, dandelions sprung up to cover the same space, digging into the scorched ground with their inexorable roots, churning the earth before decomposing into it as well. It was like watching time-lapse photography, writ large. 

After the dandelions came other plants, larger plants. Trees began to spring up here and there, sugar maples, flowering cherries, serviceberries, trees that could handle acidic soil and a lack of consistent sunlight while still providing useful food, while between them bushes began to grow, producing blueberries, raspberries and other less immediately identifiable varieties. In less than a minute, the entire immediate environment was a small slice of paradise, or more accurately, a small slice of Sanctuary. Already the air was beginning to seem cleaner. "I guess that's one good thing about constantly reterraforming Freedom City," Fleur murmured to the others, "I've got plenty of the appropriate seeds on hand." 

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"...very impressive," Dragonfly admitted. She'd sprouted four blade-like wings when the show started; they hummed, fixed in place, as they suspended her about a foot off the ground to keep her out of the way of the sudden and unnatural growth. "Advantages of magic, maybe? Not much of a biologist, but have seen some of the science research; usually encounters thermodynamic problems...."

She tilted her head up to regard the Goodman Building, and made a derisive noise. "Castle Greyskull? Maybe. Was wondering if it's where we'll have to fight Doctor Wily, myself...still, modification is concerning. Waste of resources in a resource-thin world. Ego problems? Makes me wonder what else got changed."

Dragonfly raised a hand to her side, tilting it back to idly point at the empty air next to her - air that didn't stay empty long, as a half-dozen drones twisted their way into normal space and sat, awaiting direction. "Scouting pattern," she ordered, and they immediately shot up into the air...and disappeared, though having just seen them one could barely discern a ripple in the air as they moved outward, camouflage distorting the buildings and sky behind them. "Don't engage, don't get caught. I want the...what's the phrase. Lay of the land. While we...wait, I guess," she added, glancing at Fleur and Cerulean. Her wings disappeared again, no longer needed as she settled back onto solid ground. "Imagine someone will have noticed the new oasis."

Edited by Fox
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Cerulean spun around in place a few times as the magically-spawned parkland grew up about them, a look of enthused wonder clear upon her face even through the radiation suit.  She watched trees clawing their way toward the sky, crouched to pluck a freshly ripened berry from a blueberry bush, and looked up at Fleur in admiration.

"That's pretty amazing," she told the botanomancer a touch wistfully -- what Fleur could do compared to what she herself could do was like comparing a renaissance painter to her iPhone drawing app.

Straightening again, she glanced a touch nervously toward the massively (and disturbingly) altered building, trying to spot if anything was heading their way yet.

"Should I power up, do you think?" she asked, darting a look at Fleur before returning her gaze to the building.  "I'm pretty sure this whole park won't go unnoticed, so I may as well light up, right?"  She was feeling more than a little exposed, with nothing more than the radiation suit between her and whatever methods of violent death that might be employed by the machine armies.

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The humans of Talos City lived in squalor, that was plain to see, and a tightly-controlled squalor at that. In tents and huts built in cleared zones throughout the city, they lived alongside their machine overlords in conditions appropriate to a Third World refugee camp, if that. In the streets of Talos City, humans acted as attendants, lackeys, and followers to individuals and groups of robots. Some wore clothes that matched the color of their master's outer plating, others the rags of the nearby refugee camp, others were simply naked beneath the summer sun. As the masked drones caught scenes of humans polishing robot outer casings in what had once been Greenbank, teaching their own children in ramshackle schools in the West End, or performing unhappy dances for their machine masters in the Theatre District, it was hard to avoid one obvious thought - this was all terribly inefficient! A true transhuman machine empire would have had no need for any of this - or for the statues of Talos continually reciting the Creed of the Machine that seemed to revolve around how humans should thank Talos for liberating them from their civilization. 

The machines didn't live behind barbed wire and didn't seem to be subject to the same cruel discipline as humans, but even they didn't have it very well. Running the gamut from humanoid robots to wheeled warbots to spider-legged automaton abominations, almost all the machines of Talos City looked to be in some stage of tarnish or outright disrepair to Dragonfly's practiced eye. Only an isolated few, all of them bearing the seal of Talos on their chests, looked to be in perfect working order - those seemed to be the best-connected of the robots on the street, with the most human attendants and the finest territories, buildings covered with glowing circuits and transtators, signs of nanotechnology and other wonders that must have seemed miraculous here. 

All in all, it was a scene of horror and misery in the once-shining Freedom City. Outside what had been Freedom Hall, a group of human prisoners were in the middle of what appeared to be a slave auction, mechanical bidders silently bidding by radio signals as the humans stood huddled together. By now alarms were beginning to ring across the city, and troops beginning to move - mostly armed machines of various sorts either running, flying, or riding wheeled vehicles towards the Goodman Building. It was evident that their secret was out! 

Artoo was tense, standing close to the heroes and obviously on high alert as he looked around warily. He hadn't reacted much to the plants or display of nature's bounty, he seemed much more focused on the place they'd walked into. "You should definitely power up. They're going to be mobilizing a full attack force. If you're going to fight them here, you should get those humans out of the way," he said, shooting a glance towards the human tent city nearby, the residents of which were watching in awe and fascination at Fleur's deeds. For his part, Vigil had completely forgotten to gloat at Artoo's expense - instead he was kneeling on the turf Fleur had created, a look of awe on his face to match those of the nearby humans. He ran one armored hand over the grass, his organic eye wide. 

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That was enough for Cerulean -- already in her powered form, she lit up her force field and lofted herself half a pace off the ground, the intense blue glow of her powers shedding a small pool of illumination about her.  The pool abruptly widened as she cast her illumination wide, the cerulean light chasing away shadows and stripping away all concealment and illusions before her eyes alone.

She held off on spinning out her illusory duplicates, but only because they hadn't actually seen any signs of hostility yet.

"I thought we were hoping not to have to fight them, though?" the curvy young blonde protested, glancing down at the enthralled cyborg.  "Wrecking things even more isn't going to make things any easier for anybody here, is it?"

She looked about at the decaying world, and then back to Fleur and Dragonfly.

"Uh, but along those lines -- if I give warning, make sure you're not looking right at me, okay?" she suggested with a weak smile, barely visible through the radiation suit's faceplate.

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"....okay," Dragonfly summarized, rapidly cycling her suit's internal displays through the spying drones' findings, "first off, your 'glorious robot savior' is bull####. About what you'd expect from an egomaniacal robot's pet project: humans, slaves, bottom. Robots - maybe transhumans - middle, suffering. Probably just robots, though; humans get little pity."

She ticked a finger against her leg, frowning at one of the feeds she was getting. "Talos' lackeys are the only ones happy or in good repair, hoarding and flaunting resources. No surprises there. Whole area's pretty clearly devoted to his big head, not so much to actually helping anyone. Charities and good leaders don't erect statues, plural, to themselves when resources are limited. Best guess, Talos took advantage of bad situation - or caused bad situation - to carve a power base of slaves and dependence. ...does not necessarily mean rebels are right, I guess. Depends too much on methods of rebellion."

"Also," the heroine added, conversationally, as her forcefield went up in the form of a twisted outline appeared around her profile. "Definitely troops on the way. We are noticed. Would very much prefer to not fight them, no, Cerulean, but strongly recommend we get people out of the area just in case. Could send a drone their way if no one has better options."

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"I suspect people here are pretty experienced in staying out of the way of potential danger," Fleur commented, glancing around at their immediate surroundings. The nearest bystanders were quite a ways away, and though they definitely seemed interested in the brand new garden, it didn't look like they planned on investigating while strangers were still nearby. "And you're absolutely right about Talos, Dragonfly, but he's who we've got to work with right now, since he's got most of the people and the organization. Why don't we start heading in their direction, peaceable-like, and see what happens? Cerulean, Artoo, you stay back a bit, just to be safe." Raising her hands in the air in a gesture of nonviolent intent, Fleur began walking forward as far as the edge of her new garden, then beyond it, then bringing it with her in the form of new plants that sprang up in her wake, a little corridor of green. "We mean you no harm!" she shouted, hopefully loud enough for machines with sensitive pickups to hear. "We come in peace, and we'd like to speak to Talos!" 

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Despite the gravity of the situation -- or, in all honestly, perhaps in part because of it -- Cerulean found herself starting to get into the spirit of things.  After all, they were in an alternate dimension, seeking audience with the leader of a machine society, to negotiate giving aid and succour to robots and organics alike.  How awesome was that?

"Take us to your leader!" she called out, a broad grin upon her face.  An actual, legitimate opportunity to use that line?  How often did something like that come along?

Not nearly enough, in her opinion.

She hovered along, perhaps eighteen inches off the ground to give adequate clearance to the carpet of green that Fleur was laying down, a short-lived blue contrail following in her wake.  Her shields were up and tuned as tough as she could make them, and motes of light danced around her fingers as she made herself ready to start flinging around more power, should it prove necessary.

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Dragonfly gave an amused snort at Cerulean's joke, though her attention seemed to be elsewhere - she waved a hand, and several of her drones re-appeared, dropping their concealment technology and lowering to the ground. All around the park, between its edge and any scattered groups of humans, neon blue holograms sprang up - the armored heroine's oversized image standing calm, passive, and utterly immovable.

"Ladies and gentlemen and other intelligences," she announced in several voices...though the real Dragonfly didn't seem to share the pose, nor did she seem to be talking. "We promise that we are not here to pick a fight. Want to help, if we can. But times are dangerous and we can't assume nobody will pick a fight with us. Until things are sorted out, please keep away for your own safety...just in case. Needless collateral damage is for people who can't plan and don't care."

She gave a couple seconds of silence before dropping the images, sending the drones cloaked and airborne again with another wave of her hand. "Probably unnecessary," she mused, silently re-checking her aerial feed for the umpteenth time. "Still. Would rather do it and not need to, than the other way around."

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If the heroes had taken provocative action, the battle would have been joined. But as it was, the robot armies of Talos seemed unsure about what to do with enemies who did not strike at them first. The skies filled with swarms of robotic drones, head-sized spheres that hovered and turned with the mobility of insects - but they did not open fire. Regiments of metal-bodied humanoids rolled up in ground vehicles to take up firing positions at the edge of the ghetto-ized district of fallen buildings and human slums at the foot of the Goodman Building - but they did not open fire either, despite the rusted rifles raised to their shoulders. It wasn't hard to guess what was going on - their enemy was trying to intimidate them. Or provoke them into a first strike. 

But if he had planned that, even as his troops slowly took up their positions, it was increasingly clear that Talos had failed to read the caliber of his opposition - if opposition they were to be. 

"Dimensional intruders, dimensional intruders!" came a piped voice from the robot troops, one of the identical units, still clinging to one of half-a-dozen ground vehicles parked in front of the empty buildings before the Goodman Building, was visibly holding a megaphone up to its face. "Talos watches all and sees all, with science beyond your organic brains! One patch of grass is one patch of grass. How are you mighty enough to be worth his valuable time?" The ground troops had assumed a rough semi-circle position with the heroes in the middle - a threatening position for any human rebels, but even fifty Foundry warbots were not a major threat to a group of superhumans as mighty as this one. What could Talos be thinking - or was this all he had, so deep in his stronghold? 

"That's Talos himself," muttered Artoo from behind the heroes. "That's not a warbot talking. He must have assumed direct control." 

Edited by Avenger Assembled
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Cerulean was more than a little nervous at the situation, all things considered -- sure, she was supposed to be this fairly effective combat powerhouse, potentially, but that didn't mean that she had much in the way of, y'know, actual experience with fighting stuff.

It was a good thing that an actual fight wasn't something they were looking for.

Still -- she kept her attention focused on the swarms of drones hovering in the air about them like giant, mechanical mosquitoes.  She'd be less likely to hit anything she shouldn't if she kept her field of fire aimed upward, and she could -- hopefully -- clear some large swaths of them at once if she had to.

"Don't suppose there's any way we can take advantage of that, huh?" she asked in a low aside to Dragonfly as Artoo outed Talos' control of the warbot.  "You guys are going to have to sell him on your services -- I just light things up," she reminded them in a voice that was, perhaps, just a little higher and tighter than usual.

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"We're not here to impress you, or to provoke you for that matter," Fleur told the vocal robot, her voice polite but firm. It also carried really well, a technique she'd learned while trying to address large groups on Sanctuary. "We heard that there were people who are hungry and sick who need help, that your ground is blighted and it's hard to grow crops. We can't fix your world, but we can lend a hand and help save lives." She lowered her voice enough so that it would reach the robot, but not the listening humans and mechanical sentients further away. "If you cooperate with us to let us help, you'll secure goodwill with your people. If you don't want to cooperate, we'll find other ways to help, but you won't be able to capitalize on this opportunity. Either way, you may as well lower the weapons, we are not here to fight and they will not harm us." 

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"Why would you do this?" demanded Talos through his pawn, suspicion coming through the remote link clearly despite the fact they were talking to a sentient machine. "The New Age has broken the metahumans of this world and stands within a few years of global mastery. You expect us to believe you have come out of the goodness of your squishy organic hearts?" 

"Because they're decent people!" called Artoo, who had evidently gained confidence from the way Talos was negotiating rather than attacking - for all that he still kept the heroes between himself and the robot armies. "They see what you've done and they care more about helping others than hurting you!" 

"Very well!" called the machine commander. "It does please the forces of the New Age to let you feed our organics. You may be ushered into the presence of Talos. But not with that one!" The guns turned from the heroes and all aimed themselves at Artoo, who to his credit didn't flinch even as he became the direct target of his people's enemy. "But the machine traitor may not be ushered into the presence of Talos. You will surrender him for destruction. Vigil! Seize the fugitive!" 

Rising from his position in the grass, Vigil, still shaken by what the team had brought to his homeworld, turned to the heroes - a question in his eyes. 

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