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[IC] Fight the Power


olopi

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Synth / Nyberg

 

Nyberg put the jumper back on. No use leaving evidence. At least, evidence that obvious. A forensic examiner could no doubt do a good job, but he somehow doubted the owners wanted heavy scrutiny. 

 

Just a hunch. 

 

Fortune, for now, was holding firm. But lady luck had no memory. There was no immediate danger but no luxury of slowness. For now, he would search the obvious nooks and crannies of the bar...and that mean the counter first. 

 

 

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GM

 

The counter was not the most interesting of things. At first, it was rather unspectacular. A typical bar, Nyberg assumed. A compartment that held ice, a mini-fridge full of various fruit juices and some alcohol that needed to be kept cool. And then, he came across one drawer, long and narrow. It didn’t give immediately, it seemed to be locked in some way. Only when he spotted a button below the surface part of the counter and clicked it, something happened.

 

The drawer folded open, revealing it wasn’t actually a drawer in the first place. And, perhaps more importantly, that it hid a shotgun below. Perhaps it was significant? Perhaps it was standard issue? Moving on, the next thing was the cash register. It wasn’t locked, even though there was the capability for a key.

 

And inside, there was a fair amount of money. Clearly not all the profits, but still a fair sum. A quick count revealed at least 400 dollars. And when Nyberg was looking through the notes, just to figure out how many there were, he saw it. Below the section of 100 dollar notes, where hardly anybody would probably look. A small scrap of paper, a phone number written on it.

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Synth / Nyberg

 

Nyberg thumbed through the notes. Damn, he was broke. But it was theft. Necessary theft. But theft. Theft from thieves. But still theft. 

 

He hardly had enough to eat, and he might need have. He pocketed the money. 

 

"Pure" Synth wouldn't have, but Nyberg was older, wiser, and dedicated to protecting Synth, in bone, blood, and brain. 

 

As for the Shotgun, he picked it up, sniffed it. Any clues?

 

Irrespective, he ejected the ammunition from it. Stealing some necessary dollars was one thing. Shooting a different thing altogether. 

 

And now, the phone number. There was a simple way to investigate that: he looked around for a land line...

 

Dialling it....

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GM

 

The shotgun didn’t really smell. Which was a good thing, probably. It meant that it had not been used in some time. And that probably was better than the alternative in almost every scenario. In fact, there wasn’t even any ammunition inside. Clearly it was meant for intimidation than anything else. So at least there was that.

 

There was no phone anywhere at the counter, which came as somewhat of a surprise. It was a slight issue, but not a big one. As Nyberg could just recall from a large amount of foggy memories, there was a phone booth nearby. Even in this day and age, some of them remained. And times like these, that probably was a good thing.

 

It was unoccupied, and he had enough small change on him to pay for the call. It rang for a while, but after some waiting, somebody picked up. A female voice, one that was vaguely familiar in some way?

 

“Yes?”

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GM

 

Nyberg was slightly surprised to hear a woman at the end of the line. 

 

Whom could it be?

 

"Hello?" he answered neutrally. 

 

No particular gambit sprung to mind. No particular gambit was safe. It was all a roll of the dice. Maybe blunt honesty, with a dash of selective information...

 

"Who is this? Got your number from Scrappers. Hidden away with a ton of money..."

 

Ok, a slight magnification of the truth too...

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GM

 

There was a slight pause on the other end, as something happened in the background, muffled. After a second or two, whoever was on the phone replied again. It was hard to tell what she was feeling, her voice fairly neutral. But whoever it was, Nyberg was sure he’d heard it before. Somewhere, and just recently…

 

“Oh? Okay. So, what’re you calling for? Anything you need, anything you want? Anything that has to be relayed?”

 

Whoever she was, she didn’t seem entirely sure of her choice of words. It was her tone, as Nyberg had learned sometime long ago, that suggested she was improvising at least a bit, that it wasn’t something she fully believed in.

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Synth / Nyberg

 

It was more thrusting and jabbing with invisible rapiers. 

 

"I can't talk over the phone" he answered, bluntly. 

 

"You know Scrappers. You know what happens here. You know what's at stake..."

 

Because I certainly don't....

 

"It will be more than blood next time. You need to see this for yourself. I'll be waiting. But not long..."

 

A slight pause. 

 

"Half an hour, then I'm gone"

 

He slammed the phone down. A gambit, sure. But everything was. For now, he went back to Scrappers and poured himself a drink whilst waiting. 

 

 

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GM

 

The bar was surprisingly well stocked. After a bit of searching, Nyberg managed to find a bottle of peach vodka, not something that he’d recalled seeing much, ever. A welcome treat, all things considered, as he sat down at one of the tables, and enjoyed the time he had.

 

 

Meanwhile

 

“How are we standing on the location? I need it, ASAP! And get the team ready, this is huge!”

 

Jennifer Gold was excited. What had looked like a typical case of things being hidden under layers of paperwork and legal had just been turned on its head completely. A call, going in on the suspect’s phone? By what, judging by the number, clearly was a landline? Talking about stacks of money, blood, and most importantly a location? This was huge. He hadn’t budged one bit during interrogation. Which she had to admit, technically was “taking victim statements”.

 

But AEGIS investigated all sides, and there had been some accusations raised by … somebody. A shapeshifter of some sorts, who had disappeared again. Perhaps they’d come up again?

 

“Okay, we’ve tracked it down. Boardwalk. Located right next to, you guessed it, Scrapper’s Bar. “

 

“Okay, Move! Go, go, go!”

 

 

About 15 minutes later

 

Dr. Nyberg was enjoying his time. A nice vodka, after all this stress, just felt appropriate. And chances were nobody would turn up for quite a while. A few cars drove by, away in the distance. One stopped, maybe? It was hard to tell, the bar muffled sounds from outside fairly well.

 

And just then, it happened. With a crack, the door opened, and through it a team of AEGIS operatives, in full armor, streamed into the room, Even with his reflexes, there was nothing he could do before two of them were pointing pistols at him.

 

“AEGIS! Hands in the air!”

 

The voice was the same as before.

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Synth /. Nyberg

 

With a flush of anger, Synth raised his hands. 

 

"They are in the air" he answered, barely containing his fury. 

 

AEGIS? After all of this, AEGIS???

 

He was sorely tempted to believe they were corrupt. He was not trusting as a rule, having been burnt by experience. And now, a phone call and AEGIS appear. What were the chances of that? The woman at the end of the phone was an AEGIS agent. This looked a sorry state of affairs. Every twist and turn, AEGIS at the end. 

 

He now no longer believed them. The coincidences were piling up. Hull was in bed with AEGIS. The only question, to his mind, was how deep and rotten this went. He could hope it was superficial. But he was not in a hopeful mood. 

 

"Show yourself. Explain yourself" he said, voice like gravel. 

 

"Try and tell me why AEGIS is experimenting illegally on involuntary subjects. And don't offer me platitudes and ignorance. You know something, if not everything..."

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GM

 

Pistols stayed raised, as three agents in total (two and Gold), split off and approached Nyberg, while the rest of the group (6 more people), moved to clear the rest of the bar. The three approached slowly, wary of every move. As Gold spoke, she sounded at least somewhat surprised.

 

“We’re here. And we’re the armed ones, so watch your words. You called us here.“

 

“You tell us. We don’t know anything, we’re just investigating. A scientist is abducted by some shapeshifter, and it all goes sideways from there. That’s when we get involved. Clearly you know more than we do, Mr…? So, tell us. Tell us what you know, and don’t try anything funny. You’re under arrest.”

 

The two other agents moved to flank Nyberg, all the while keeping their guns pointed, one of them grabbing handcuffs from his belt. Gold stood in front of him, at a slightly lower altitude, as the place he’d been sitting at was raised by a single step.

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Synth / Nyberg

 

Synth kept his hands firmly up. He might be able to run, make a break for it. Probably had good odds. But he was tired, and it got him nowhere, really. 

 

"I'm not your enemy. I'm here to help" he said. Wondering exactly whom he was helping. 

 

"My name is Professor Nyberg" he half lied. "You probably won't find me on any data base. Paper files, maybe" he pondered. He rather suspected SHADOW had scrubbed his name out of existence. He had been duped into working for them, and they wanted his research back. 

 

"But I am an expert in biochemistry, genetics, molecular biology. And in particular, I know an awful lot on metahuman research. In particular particular..." again, a half lie "I lot about human augmentation"

 

"This establishment has been running underground street fights, picking off the winners, and using them for experiments. You can put the pieces together, I am sure. I was looking into this, covertly, I admit. And I find your number on a piece of paper with a stack of cash here. So I have to ask myself, given AEGIS may well be interested in such experiments, what kind of corruption is happening..."

Edited by Supercape
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GM

 

Gold listened, looking quite intrigued. It was genuine, even the surprise as she heard the claims levelled against the very establishment they all were in at the moment. She didn’t lower her weapon just yet, but moved her head in a way that, most likely, told the other two agents to not act further.

 

“You seem qualified. So, what you’re saying sounds interesting. It opens a whole new set of possibilities. “

 

She seemed to mull over her words. Meanwhile, the remaining agents had secured the bar, and began to make their way downstairs, one after another. Down, into the cellar connected to where the fighting took place.

 

“I’m not allowed to comment on ongoing investigations, but I can tell you that you didn’t call my number. You called the number of a confiscated phone currently under investigation. “

 

“So you have been investigating this case? What more can you tell us? “

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Synth / Nyberg

 

That was plausible. But then, it was also a good cover. 

 

"Jason Hull is the man you should be looking for. Scientist, worked in H&K. Maybe still does. And thus, my concern that AEGIS is involved. The thread is not confirmed, but even threadbare it suggests that AEGIS is involved"

 

"And if it is, you should know I won't stand for it. You best shoot me now"

 

I rather bold gambit, and unlikely to pay off. But you never could tell. 

 

"Jason Hull is unlikely to have the resources to pull this off himself. If he did, then he has a very interested buyer, and the skill to make a lot of people look the other way, either by deception or money" 

 

"Right now AEGIS is my top suspect"

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GM

 

The agent smiled ever so slightly at the mention of Hull’s name. And at the same time, she lowered her gun completely, leaving her hand by her waist, and tilting her head slightly.

 

“We have no need to look for him. He is currently at an AEGIS location, where he is staying until we can figure out why he was attacked. Something we may be moving closer to as we speak. “

 

“I have no reason to shoot an important asset to a case. I don’t know how I can convince you AEGIS is not involved in this, but there is no reason why we would be involved in … whatever you claim he was doing. We have a partnership with ASTRO Labs as well as a proficient inhouse science team, why would we need to hire somebody else entirely?”

 

She looked fairly confident in her words, especially as she spoke the next sentence, raising an eyebrow at the same time.

 

“I think I know why you know all of this, because, correct me if I’m wrong, but this is not the first time we’ve met?”

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Synth / Nyberg

 

"Yes...no....I can't explain" answered Nyberg, truthfully. "The self is more complex than the dull mind appreciates. What is I? my cells? my memories? the ego? what section of the brain? what proportion? Am I the same man as I was a second ago? an hour? a day? a year?"

 

He rubbed his forehead. 

 

"I cannot truly answer you because their is no language for truth, at least, not in the time we have in our hands. But suffice to say I do not think we have met, although, ironically, as you insinuate, I have memories of you"

 

"Tell me this then, what have you found out? have you seen his research?"

 

"And you still haven't explained whose number I phoned...do you know about this place?"

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GM

 

Gold needed a second to process what Nyberg had just said about meeting her before, looking a bit irritated. Both surprised, and probably a bit angry, as she was probably thinking of her next move. She didn’t comment on it further, instead focusing on what else he’d said, even if her arm, holding the gun, tensed up ever so slightly.

 

“I’m not allowed to just give out information, but we are still in the earliest phases of the investigation. Until we can find something that connects him to what you, and, let’s put this into perspective, just you, accuse him of, we can’t do much. Especially since we’ve been working with weekend staff for most of the case so far. “

 

“You called the number of a confiscated phone, not one owned by AEGIS. We did, in fact, not know of this place. What is so special about it? Where are these “underground fights” held? This doesn’t look like the best venue for it, a bit crowded and full of immovable tables. “

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Snyth / Nyberg

 

"On the surface, yes" agreed Nyberg. 

 

He pointed a finger to the ground. 

 

"Underground does, in this case, literally mean that. I have no objection to showing you evidence. If you are indeed committed to stopping this and untainted by politics or money - which I have to say is both plausible and unlikely, then this will help you. If you are involved, it will aide you not at all" he reasoned. 

 

"If I have your permission to lower my hands and show you downstairs?" he asked, recalling the secret entrances and shifty rooms he had been in. 

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GM

 

She nodded slowly, even if the idea of letting him show her around visibly upset the agent. And then, she considered. It took a bit, then she raised her empty hand to about the height of her head. One of the guards who had previously gone downstairs came back up, just to see the hand, and his voice was just about audible.

 

“Clear.”

 

She once more lowered it, and stepped to the side. “Show us. One wrong move, and trust me, the thing yesterday is small scale to what happens. This is already all-but-secure. “

 

All the agents followed, one of them specifying the next action by talking into his personal radio first. As they descended the stairs, they were met by the remaining officers, who were currently searching through the various boxes and other things stored. Then, Nyberg pointed out the secret door, and, using just his strength, opened it.

 

Everybody gathered around, and shone their flashlights into the room, Gold making sure to stretch her arm in front of the door so nobody would go inside. “This is … huge. Nobody go inside, and let’s get the detective team down here. This is their job. Until we figure out more, nothing’s clear. But this could be the connection. “

 

She turned towards Synth, now looking a lot less uncertain about the entire operation. “In order to connect all of this, we’ll need a witness statement. On the record. We’ll be taking all the necessary precautions, but for reasons of accountability, we’ll have to take it at an AEGIS location. Can we convince you to do as much?”

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Synth / Nyberg

 

"I am afraid you cannot" answered Nyberg. 

 

"You have not persuaded me beyond reasonable doubt that AEGIS is not mixed up in this. Your words are plausible, but not definitive. You would say exactly the same thing if you wished to trick me into incarceration and dissect me" he explained. He was not angry, just cold. 

 

"And that is a risk I cannot take. SHADOW have been after my cells for years now, and I cannot take even the smallest risk that they will find me. For all I know, that has already happened thanks to you"

 

He tensed, ready for action. 

 

"So now it is your choice. You may attempt to incarcerate me with my resistance, or you will not. If you are honest and true, then I apologise for my resistance - but it is the only choice I can make..."

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GM

 

She sighed, and looked genuinely hurt for just a second. But it was clear what came next, and by the time she said it and gave the signal, Synth was already ready to act. However, so were the 6 agents.

 

“In that case, you are under arrest. You are a wanted fugitive, and have admitted to a multitude of criminal actions. Hands in the air and on the ground!” It was clear she only said it for protocol, that she didn’t believe it herself. Mainly because by the time she said it’ she’d already pulled her gun and pulled the trigger, only for her gun to jam.

 

The other agents had also already acted by the time she’d said it. Two of them hurried towards the door, while the other three moved to attack Synth in one way or another, two with their sidearms, one just punching. It got chaotic fast, the sound of gunfire being amplified by the small space didn’t help. Neither did the ricocheting. One bullet actually hit, everything else flew wide.

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  • 1 month later...

GM

 

Synth felt the bullet creep under his ribs, with a splintering sound. 

 

He held onto the bleeding wound, and stumbled. Something was leaking out of him, and he had a good idea it was blood. The way it bubbled. That was more concerning. He felt a wheeze. 

 

Tension Pneumothorax...

 

That was a terrible fortune. As he inhaled, he could feel the ragged breath of a collapsed lung. 

 

He slumped to the floor, gasping. 

 

"Hnnnn...you got me...." he wheezed. 

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GM

 

 

Synth kneeled on the ground, the blackness on the edges of his vision slowly croaching further in. The pain, it was not something he was used to, even with the pain he felt so often when transforming. It was deeper, stronger. Was it just bad luck, or was it something they used?  He looked up towards the agents, Gold in particular.

 


The last thing he saw was the grip of a pistol, about to connect with his jaw.

 

 

 

A strange smell. Something familiar, yet strange. Nothing good. It was there. Something strange. Strange and red. Strange, red and dripping. Dripping, dripping from everything. It was everywhere! And off in the distance, something more. More familiar. Less strange.

 

Scratch that. Whatever’s happening, I don’t want to know. “

 

 

 

 

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Synth

 

Something horrible was happening in his head, Nyberg could feel it. Or Synth could feel it. At this stage, the fractured memories and imprints were in chaos. Like a bubbling soup of clashing spices. However bad the smells and the pains, the malestrom in his synapses was worse. 

 

"Gah! Stop it!" he screamed as he felt the protective psyche of Nyberg start to disintegrate. 

 

His skin started to fall off, and his default albino, translucent form started to take shape. This time, unusually, it hurt. 

 

The pain was surely in his head. 

 

"What's happening?" he yelled at the top of his voice. But would anyone hear?

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GM

 

From the black, something approached. Through the dripping, but inside it. Something familiar. Something good. What was it? Food? Something about food, yes. It came closer, became more clear. Tiny, rotund. Something ontop, running across. Suddenly, it was loud.

 

“Bodyparts always are a ton of paperwork.”

 

A memory. It reminded him. Of something. Summer? No. Not quite. Fall?

 

Suddenly, movement. Downwards, into light. Then dark. Pain? Was it pain? And then loud. A small space, no place to move. Familiar, nothing new? Or was it? It felt so, but also not?

 

“ …broken … tomorrow … Saturday … nothing else … patched … serious … reveal it all…”

 

Flashes.

 

“Reveal what? Haha.”

 

Adrenaline. Action.

 

“Who’s following us? What’s coming? What could they possibly know?”

 

Pain. Pain everywhere. Familiar pain, one felt before.

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Synth

 

Synth was not exactly sure if he was going mad, or hallucinating, or reliving a memory, or this was real. Possibly several of the above. 

 

The pain was crippling, oh the agony! he felt like he wanted to dissolve into oblivion - for surely endless oblivion would be preferable to this. 

 

Instead, he let out a full lunged scream, and was reassured he could do so. At least he had a mouth to scream with. 

 

"Please! Please! Help me!"

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