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Power Struggle! IC


angrydurf

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"Listen. Whatever comes through that door, we can defeat it if we work together," said the 'knight' as he lasered in on the stomping footsteps that were coming at both himself and Protectron. "If we have drawn the enemy out, we can face him here. If he had sent his minions after us, we can destroy them." 'Caradoc' dropped to his knees and took careful aim, pointing his sword at the door around chest height for an oncoming humanoid. "Engage in melee only after I have fired. Wait for it..." He charged up his weapon, the power pike hidden beneath the sword beginning a whine of repressed energy as it held back the entropic blast within. "Wait for it..."

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"Internal security! Why didn't I think of that!

"Perhaps it is because you have not fully embraced your technopathic nature," Protectron opined in response to the rhetorical question. "Continued use of your abilities may lead to modes of thought different from those of purely organic brains."

Analysis: Digital and organic, working together, for the betterment of both.

The golden robot took up position slightly ahead of and to the side of Caradoc, so as to be in position to melee with whatever steambots came their way.

Observation: Friend-Caradoc's tactical analysis is sound.
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Ironclad flailed away from the data line, a headache suddenly thundering through her brain. Once again she resolved to design an anti-virus program that simply gave a technopathic hacker a firm "no" rather than a migraine.

The heroine joined the pair of heroes ready for whatever was coming. She raised her own weapons and sighted on the doors. "No time to waste," she said simply. "The reactors are still going full-bore. Whoever's in there is using a city's-worth of power and it's still not enough. I don't want to know what he's thinking of doing." She took a breath and fired, the bolt of energy briefly gilding the group.

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With a resounding boom Ironclads energy bolt tore the doors from their hinges sending them sailing to clatter at the feet of an Huge Bronze behemoth crackling with electricity.

The fires in its boiler seem to flare and its 'eyes' glow with an orange and malevolent light as the heroes hear a low building whine coming from the enormous construct. Caradoc's blast of entropy slams into the armored body scorching and warping armored plates but to no avail as the whine reaches a fever pitch and the crackling electricity around the Giant Robot erupts in an expanding storm of electricity!

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Observation: Large steamechanoid blocking path.

Tactical Analysis: Charge to build up momentum, slamming into target's legs. Attempt grapple to pin legs, impeding movement.

"I do not wish to harm you," the golden robot said as it charged towards the larger steambot, "but we must bring an end to your criminal activities.". The two collided with a resounding CLANG!, but the the larger 'bot proved too strong, too tough -- Protectron practically bounced off of it!

"This steamechanoid is well-constructed," Protectron warned as it moved back out of the steambot's reach.

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This was a serious threat, then, it was time to fight the robot and hope that this was the leader rather than simply a powerful minion: what could command this was no small thing to fight with only a few heroes at his side. Caradoc didn't banter or talk like most heroes would here, the persona of the gallant knight falling away like so much dross. Absorbing Protectron's advice without a word, he took a step forward and thrust up, the glowing tip of his sword caroming off the robot's face and scorching it deep enough to crack the bronzed metal body, sending pieces sparking everywhere as hot metal rebounded against 'Caradoc's' own armored body. He'd struck it deep, but the mechanoid was still easily in the fight.

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Ironclad gasped as the electricity coursed through her. Normally her suit filtered out the more extreme sensations that she encountered in her job, but for some reason she was unable to do so with electricity; it forced its whole energy into her and through her. In her more reflective moments she wondered if that made her weaker than other heroes, if maybe she should learn to deal with such pain instead of blocking it off behind a wall of electronics. Right now, though, she just hurt.

Despite the agony, she forced herself to stay on her feet, forced her attention to stay focused on the fight happening right in front of her. She raised one arm, steadied it with an effort of will, and sent a blast aimed straight at the steampunk monstrosity's head.

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The Steammech shuddered under Harriers ferocious assault rivets popping and armor cracking under the rapid assault. However it held together though clearly badly damaged by the blow its furnace belching thick black smoke as it tried to struggle back to a defensive posture. It was barely able to bring one armored arm up to take the brunt of Ironclads blast with a hiss of steam as the hulking mass of bronze slowly steadied itself trying to bring its massive electro cannon to bear on the heroes systems straining as it tried to rebuild lost power from Harriers brutal attack.

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Observation: Friend-Ironclad severely injured.

Tactical Analysis: Combine force with Friend-Caradoc

    Calculate 15.38% increase in striking power

to bring a swifter end to this regrettable conflict. Pull back to Friend-Ironclad to assess extent of injuries.

"Friend-Caradoc," the strange robot announced in its unwavering monotone, altering only its volume to be heard above the clanking of the steambot, "combining forces will bring this conflict to a swifter end. Advise striking at torso while I go for cranial unit. On your mark..."

Once the blow was struck, the robot zipped back to its Lab-partner, and quickly scanned her condition.

ERROR: I am lacking detailed files on human anatomy.
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"Yes," answered the cyberknight, giving the only sign he'd heard Protectron before he charged forward and slammed his sword into the robot's midsection, driving it deep, the blade sinking past armor and into the steambot's mechanical guts. Once there, he fired off a devastating blast of cosmic energy that erupted through brass and steel like fire in a tinderbox, incinerating the mechanical man's interior in a flash of searing white light. As the robot fell, without hesitation Caradoc brought his sword down on his head, cleaving it in twain with a single devastating swipe. Caradoc was not one to leave an enemy at his rear, especially not a mechanical monstrosity that was a serious threat to three heroes. "Is Ironclad well?"

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Ironclad held up a hand to forestall Protectron's help. The robot meant well, but he could be overwhelming at times. "I'm fine," she said, putting a hand to her head. "It's... the suit doesn't deal with electrical attacks really well. That last burst gave me a headache. I could go for some acetaminophen, but I'll be fine." She strode forward, ignoring the pounding in her head and the way the lights seemed to strobe. "Right now we need to figure out where this robot master is hiding, and take him down."

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  • 2 weeks later...

The searing blast of entropy roared through the giant steam bots innards bathing the heroes on near scalding steam and thick black smoke for a moment as the behemoth collapsed with a groan of torn pistons and a resounding crash that echoed through the long hallway stretching behind. As the smoke cleared and the echoes died off distant sounds of construction could be heard from deep within the complex. What could they be building there? Whatever it was, letting them finish their malign work could bring nothing but harm to the fair city of Freedom, time may be running short!

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"Let us go," said the armored knight without hesitation, striding towards the plant with no expression on his invisible armored face. After a moment, though, he paused, and stopped over the robot to drive his blade completely through its neck, severing the robotic skull from its body. "As a lesson to the others," he said firmly, carrying the robotic skull in his free hand as he headed into the factory. "And to its maker! That none may endanger innocent souls and stand before the power of the heroes of Freedom City!"

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Unable to verify extent of Friend-Ironclad's injuries. Must rely on her word.

Protectron turned from seeing to Ironclad's wounds, just in time to stare dispassionately at Harrier's act of counting coup.

Hypothesis: Friend-Caradoc is from a harsher, more primitive culture which uses such 'trophies' as warnings to others.
    Probability of Friend-Caradoc actually being from such a society unlikely. Deeds mostly likely part of costumed persona of Caradoc, played up to strike fear into the hearts of criminals.

"Friend-Caradoc," it said flatly as it continued inside, "I believe your 'lesson to the others' will not be well-received. The steamechanoids we faced do not seem capable of reasoning, or of fear responses. And their creator will more than likely be enraged at our actions, not frightened. Though I would prefer it if we can bring a diplomatic end to this crisis which is beneficial to all."

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"That is true," confessed Caradoc. "But if the mechanoids could feel and think, then taking one's head as a trophy would have been an abomination, and not an act worthy of a superhero or of a human being." Harrier knew that much, anyway! "As for their maker, if he is angered enough to concentrate his attacks on me, that will free you and Ironclad, who understand science and technology better than I, to disable whatever terrible machines he has as his guards and to undo whatever damage he has done to the fission reactor. I am a knight of Camelot! I am no technician. My greatest service can be to absorb his blasts and blows while you do your work. If I enrage him in the same deed, then he has met the fate he deserves."

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Ironclad shook her head at Caradoc's reasoning. "Hopefully," she said, "stopping him will require nothing more than smashing him until he agrees to stop moving. But if we need to disconnect or reverse the flow of something, if would be nice to have someone else to catch those lightning bolts." The armored heroine followed the shining knight and the golden android into the power plant, stopping momentarily to peer down the exposed neck of the steam-bot. Caradoc's sword, however, had made a mess of the internal couplings and wirings and she was unable to discern much. She made a note to try and take the next one down without frying the innards, so she could look it over afterwards.

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As the Heros now more cautiously made their way deeper into the plant the sounds of some kind of major construction grew louder and louder. They encountered a few pockets of smaller bots once again resisting their advance but these light defenses were quickly swept aside by the might of the assembled heroes. It seemed almost wasteful to continue to throw such weak foes against freedoms defenders yet each encounter delayed the heroes if only briefly.

Finally the companions reached the heart of the facility the sounds of construction had grown to a cacophony and before them they say the way blocked by a hastily assembled wall of scrap in fact it looked as if damaged and even a few whole smaller steam bots had been incorporated into its construction. It was tough to say how long it would take to carve through the barrier and any attempt would surely alert the builders within if they were not already.

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At the sight of the barrier, Caradoc did not hesitate: instead he simply raised his glowing blade and smashed it down into the metallic wall again and again, setting down the mechanical head he'd carried to get a better grip. (Really, that had been a foolish idea to begin with.) "We're coming for you!" he shouted awkwardly, trying to catch the attention of whoever was on the other side of the wall. "We're going to get you!" He thought for a moment as he cut, and added, "Do you think there IS an intelligence? Or might this be a mechanical hivemind?"

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Ironclad considered the barrier for along moment, possibilities flashing through her mind. On the one hand if they forced their way through, it would almost certainly destroy any chance of stealth. On the other hand if they really were facing an artificial intelligence, it would be operating along logical lines, which meant that most if not all of the routes into the interior would be blocked. They could lose a lot of time trying to find a way around that didn't exist.

The decision was made for them when Caradoc plunged into the barrier with his plasma beam. Ironclad shrugged and stepped up to another section, digging into a chink with her armored fingers and pulling the pieces apart with main (augmented) strength. "Is there a difference between artificial and organic intelligence," she asked. "It reasons, it feels, it plans. What's the difference if it's made of silicon or meat?" She fell quiet and for a minute there was only the sound of rending metal in the hallway. "Unless you mean something like a difference engine," she added. "But if it's a mechanical computer, why does it need nuclear power?"

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"Your termites build nests higher than a man can stand and live in communities of tens of billions, but they do not think. Ants have wars, armies, and even slaves and agriculture. If a robot can be programmed to be an man, surely one can be programmed to act like an ant. I have seen-" Caradoc paused momentarily as the electronic screams of the dying echoed in his mind, before he resumed his work with a particularly vigorous stab. "Mechanical lifeforms capable of a great many things. Some can mimic a man, but lack a man's true nature. Unlike Protectron. Miss Americana has told me of your work," he added to the robot.

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Observation: Wall of scrap provides severe impediment to progress.

Calculating....

Protectron stood and stared at the blockade. "What 'true nature' would that be, Friend-Caradoc? What differences does Friend-Americana see between organic and mechanical intellects?"

"There are differences, certainly," it continued, still standing statue-still, "in that I and other machinekind do not share the biological drives organic sapients do, or at least not to the extent you do. We require little for shelter, or sustenance, and have little desire for mates; our reproductive drives are vastly different, in that, if sufficiently educated and skills, we do not require another to reproduce, only raw materials."

"Reason and purpose are the main drives of machinekind," it continued, eyes glowing a bit more. Tiny jets of steam escaped its neck as seals broke and the head began to separate from the body. "There is no escaping reason, no denying purpose, for without purpose we would not exist. It is purpose that creates us, purpose that connects us, purpose that pulls us, that guides us, that drives us, that binds us. It is purpose that defines us." The head flew towards the barricade on tiny neck-jets, shining eye-lights here and there as the strange robot looked for a way through.

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The wall was very complete with few gaps at all and none that could fit even the detached head parts of Protectron. Yet he was able to glimpse what was being built within. Inside the cavernous room hundreds of Steam powered mechanoids toiled amid sparks and brilliant arcs of electricity. Towering Tesla Coils passed current through the air ripe with ozone, Jacobs ladders sparked and spat energy skyward, and dominating the center of the chamber stretching up towards the now torn asunder roof were two towering pillars on iron wrapped in coils of copper wire.

Moments after humanities robotic protector took all this in the wall finally gave way to the combined might of Ironclad and 'Caradoc'. With a thunderous crash the wall came apart spewing shrapnel in all directions and briefly filling the corridor with a cloud of dust and smoke. A piercing shout could be heard from within, "STOP THEM! MY WORK MUST BE COMPLETED!" followed by the heavy foot falls of steambots large and small moving to engage the heroes!

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Observation: Source of commands not found.

"I am unable to find the source of these commands," Protectron's head called out as it darted about the room, dodging arcs of electricity, "but probability is high that subject is present."

Tactical Analysis: Body unit currently lacks sensory capability.
    Reconfiguring internal systems... internal systems reconfigured.
    Receiving visual feeds from secondary optics.

Tactical Analysis: Grapple smaller steamechanoids, hurl at larger ones.

The glow in the crystal lenses on the golden robot's chest and shoulderpieces shifted slightly. Now that it could see, it charged towards the closest small steamechanoid, ramming its mighty metal fists into its chestplate, hefting it overhead, and throwing it into one of the larger steambots. The small 'bot practically exploded on contact, and pieces of it fell into and clogged the larger 'bot's gears, causing it to temporarily seize up.

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The smaller steambot let out a hiss of scalding steam as Protectron grabbed it and detonated in a hissing smoking cloud against the armor of the Much larger Mechanoid. The Huge mechanical monstrosity lurched and the large room was filled with a screech of rending metal as its gears tore through the remnants jamming its locomotion. From behind the damaged construct another mammoth mountain of bronze and Iron charged inexorably towards the Headless hero responsible. With a mighty leap it soared through the air and brought its massive fists down in a brutal double handled chop shattering the floor in front of the headless protector of humanity with its powerful blows near miss.

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Trained to target the weak and helpless, Caradoc charged the already-wounded robot, scoring his blade's tip off the armored torso before slicing deep along one of the joints. Better to take it out now and prevent an enemy in their rear than to risk leaving the job unfinished, better to strike fear into any sentient observers taking in the fight. He didn't speak or banter as he had before; combat was for him a time of deadly earnest, and he treated it as such as he engaged the mechanical man. There'd be time for the others. Oh yes.

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