Re: Grand Battle S3G1! (Round Two: The Great Battlefield)
11-03-2011, 06:01 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Lord Paradise.
The Tartan Tyrant grinned. His teeth were perfect. ”Ha! Funny you should mention disarming.” He turned a dial on the nullifier. “There. Now we’re a little less SOCOM, a little more YMCA.” He winked at the nearest Teal soldier, who was experimenting with his malfunctioning gun. "At ease, boys."
”No need to provoke.“ TinTen turned to Tengeri. Scofflaw’s device—“
”I know what it does, and so do my men. We need to use it, if it works.”
”Hrrm. Here I thought you only wanted to talk—and on that note, it is quite the pleasure to finally hear your voice, Doctor-General—but what you want to talk about is all the other things you want. Just like my ex-wife, am I right fellas?”
”Well, give me what I need—need, not want, if you want to waste my time with semantics—and we’ll be able to talk, which we both want.”
”Correction: I need to waste your time with semantics so that Huebert can sneak up behind you.” Tengeri whirled around in surprise, despite the fact that Huebert was standing right there in front of her. “Well, I wanted Huebert to sneak up behind you, but I had no way of communicating that while also wasting your time with semantics.” The Tyrant leered at Huebert and shrugged. “Foiled again, I guess.”
Huebert stepped a bit to the side so as to distance himself from the area a meter to the left of the former Scofflaw and another meter behind him, known to sociologists as the “henchman box.” ”This is a waste of time,” grunted the black-clad soldier behind the Leviath.
”I agree. Scofflaw, I know what the Great Battlefield is. If you give us the nullifier, or just go with us and do what we tell you to do with it, I’ll tell you everything I know. If not, all of us will die.”
Thud.
”Yes, well, if you throw that sort of loaded ultimatum at me you can probably eventually bully me into complying; however, if you accept as a possibility the existence of more mutually gratifying third options, you might spare us all a whole lot of unpleasantness.”
Thud.
”Are you proposing a third option to my proposed choice between nuclear annihilation and your coming with me, or are you just countering my ultimatum with your own in order to be difficult and hypocritical and maybe gain some time?”
Thud.
“Well, as to your original ultimatum I might propose as a third course that you go fuck yourself, and as to my counter-ultimatum, rather than badgering me with ultimata or opening your mind to more nuanced negotiations, you could go fuck yourself. See? Mutually gratifying.”
Thud.
”Scofflaw, my voice is still about 0.06% hoarse, so unless you have any constructive suggestions as to how to spend what is increasingly likely to be the last hour of our lives, I'm not sure I have any motivation to waste any more of my breath on you.”
Thud.
”Well that one’s just a bluff. I think you’ve been dying to put that tongue of yours to use ever since you got it stitched up, and it’s so, so rare to find a woman who slithers into the bar to have a nice conversation, so I’m perfectly willing to stay and dance until this supposed nuclear annihilation shouts last call… unless I'm mistaken and you were just trying to get into my pants like the other girls.”
Tengeri flashed an endearingly serpentine grin. ”Something like that, but it isn’t my tongue you should be concerning yourself with. This whole incredibly stupid conversation has just been my way of stalling for time while Velobo got behind you and took out your men.”
Well this ‘incredibl’—oh.” The Tartan Tyrant reasoned that he probably should have been paying more attention to the recent onomatopoeia as a certain long, prehensile tongue coiled around his ankle and wrestled him to the ground. He cast an enraged glanced at his Meipi traveling companion. “TinTen, my man! I thought you had my back!”
TinTen shrugged and offered an appendage as Velobo released the Tyrant. ”No need to conflate indifference with betrayal. Velobo’s gambit added expedience to inevitable result: hearing Nyoka out.”
“In other words,” added Huebert, ”Shut up for one minute.”
Velobo resumed his position next to Tengeri and the man in black with an acrobatic leap. ”Hey, Scofflaw, we’ve never had much of a chance to talk,” said the Plazmuth. ”I’m Velobo Calidad, and I don’t really like you all that much.”
”I was more popular,” replied the ex-Saint solemnly, “When I was serving alcohol.”
* * * * * *
The crop of forest in the dead center of the battlefield was a peaceful place, seeming completely untouched by the war. The trees hadn’t been chopped down for lumber or even used as cover; the winding trail leading to the lake was a deer path, rather than anything you could conceivably drive a vehicle through. The four battlers and the Operative passed singlefile, with Teal scouts ahead and behind.
Velobo paused to admire a cluster of aphids crawling over a leaf. ”So much detail,” he noted. ”Hard to believe it’s all just some kind of video game.”
”Not really,” countered the Tartan Tyrant dismissively. Velobo glared.
”Scofflaw is likely hypothesizing that simulation is generative,” clarified TinTen. ”Sophisticated detail illusory, largely a product of observers’ expectations.”
”In other words,” put in the Tyrant, “’Her Majesty’ says ‘forest’ and your mind thinks of the smell of pine from that time your dad took you swan-hunting and it was O so majestic, and the simulation says ‘sure, why not’ and then you see fourteen empty beer cans next to a tree with a dead swan's neck wrapped around a branch--"
The Operative touched his face nervously. ”I’m not comfortable with this line of discussion.”
”Sorry,” said Tengeri. ”Look, guys, we’re living in this world for the time being. It’s probably not healthy to think too hard about where it came from.”
”Spoken like a true agnostic.” The former Scofflaw caught his kilt in some thorns and flailed a bit. “Personally, Mr. Operative, I envy your certainty as to the higher order of your existence. I’ve been trying to get a line on God for years.”
”Well, there’s the Fool,” suggested Velobo.
“Yes, I suppose. I also met the devil once. Sold my soul.”
”What for?” asked Huebert.
“Two souls. I lost the spare after about a month, but for a while there I could play the trumpet like no man alive.”
”We’re here.” The Operative stopped at the rocky shores of a large, still lake. ”The center of the Battlefield.”
A hawk alighted on a branch overhead, screeching territorially. ”If I had to describe this place in four words,” remarked Velobo, “‘Center of the Battlefield’ wouldn’t be my first thought.”
”Well,” corrected the perfidious plaid pilferer, “I’m not sure you should be the judge of that, Velobo. Who’s the expert on secret underwater bases here? It’s—well, actually I have people who do that for me, but look. These pebbles didn’t form naturally; they were planted to cover up, I don’t know, tire tracks, wiring maybe. See that stream rolling down from the mountain? You can see where they’ve carved out a hydroelectric dam—subtle, but not too subtle to be efficient. And I’ll bet you fifty bucks those black rocks over there are functioning as solar panels.”
TinTen sighed. ”Very impressive, Scofflaw, but--“
”Now, normally I’d suggest that these are only supplements to a main source of geothermal energy, but this area doesn’t have the volcanic look about it, mountain aside, so I’d venture to guess that they aren’t carrying enough wattage down there to give hot showers and reading lamps to any significant security force. So if we can find a way in, we shouldn’t have to expect any surprises beyond an auto-turret or two and some terrified don’t-hurt-me-I’m-just-the-lab-guy types.”
The villain took a deep breath. ”I could have told you all that,” offered the Operative. ”The silo is not, to my knowledge, well-staffed, but… Her Majesty has only apprised me of the location of one of the four Benefactors. The other three may have avatars active inside the silo, and they’ve manipulated the system to give themselves certain… perks.”
”Oh, Christ,” spat the kilted criminal kingpin. “So do they just get the Hugo Weaving package or are they all the One?”
”What?”
”Never mind. We’ll deal with the boss fight when we come to it. Let’s focus on getting inside. Is there an abovewater entrance?”
The Black kicked at a pebble. ”Probably, but… sorry, I don’t have the schematics. We could spend hours combing the forest for some kind of hatch, but—“
”Ugh, no thanks. It took the cast of Lost four seasons to find all the hatches. So the only smart move will be to go in through the water, and luckily we have not one but two amphibians on the team. TinTen, Tengeri, I know you’re uncomfortable taking orders, so now would be a good time to volunteer.”
TinTen poked the surface of the water with the appendage. ”We’ll go,” said Tengeri. ”If we find a way aboveground from the inside, we can let you in. In the meantime, you circle around to that hydroelectric dam and see if you can’t use it to boost the signal of the nullifier. Wait for Tor and Jetsam.”
”Wait, Tor’s coming? That—“ But Tengeri had already retreated into the lake alongside TinTen. Scofflaw growled, then addressed Velobo, Huebert, and the Operative. “Well, you heard the lady,” he barked. “Let’s get to that dam.”
The Tartan Tyrant grinned. His teeth were perfect. ”Ha! Funny you should mention disarming.” He turned a dial on the nullifier. “There. Now we’re a little less SOCOM, a little more YMCA.” He winked at the nearest Teal soldier, who was experimenting with his malfunctioning gun. "At ease, boys."
”No need to provoke.“ TinTen turned to Tengeri. Scofflaw’s device—“
”I know what it does, and so do my men. We need to use it, if it works.”
”Hrrm. Here I thought you only wanted to talk—and on that note, it is quite the pleasure to finally hear your voice, Doctor-General—but what you want to talk about is all the other things you want. Just like my ex-wife, am I right fellas?”
”Well, give me what I need—need, not want, if you want to waste my time with semantics—and we’ll be able to talk, which we both want.”
”Correction: I need to waste your time with semantics so that Huebert can sneak up behind you.” Tengeri whirled around in surprise, despite the fact that Huebert was standing right there in front of her. “Well, I wanted Huebert to sneak up behind you, but I had no way of communicating that while also wasting your time with semantics.” The Tyrant leered at Huebert and shrugged. “Foiled again, I guess.”
Huebert stepped a bit to the side so as to distance himself from the area a meter to the left of the former Scofflaw and another meter behind him, known to sociologists as the “henchman box.” ”This is a waste of time,” grunted the black-clad soldier behind the Leviath.
”I agree. Scofflaw, I know what the Great Battlefield is. If you give us the nullifier, or just go with us and do what we tell you to do with it, I’ll tell you everything I know. If not, all of us will die.”
Thud.
”Yes, well, if you throw that sort of loaded ultimatum at me you can probably eventually bully me into complying; however, if you accept as a possibility the existence of more mutually gratifying third options, you might spare us all a whole lot of unpleasantness.”
Thud.
”Are you proposing a third option to my proposed choice between nuclear annihilation and your coming with me, or are you just countering my ultimatum with your own in order to be difficult and hypocritical and maybe gain some time?”
Thud.
“Well, as to your original ultimatum I might propose as a third course that you go fuck yourself, and as to my counter-ultimatum, rather than badgering me with ultimata or opening your mind to more nuanced negotiations, you could go fuck yourself. See? Mutually gratifying.”
Thud.
”Scofflaw, my voice is still about 0.06% hoarse, so unless you have any constructive suggestions as to how to spend what is increasingly likely to be the last hour of our lives, I'm not sure I have any motivation to waste any more of my breath on you.”
Thud.
”Well that one’s just a bluff. I think you’ve been dying to put that tongue of yours to use ever since you got it stitched up, and it’s so, so rare to find a woman who slithers into the bar to have a nice conversation, so I’m perfectly willing to stay and dance until this supposed nuclear annihilation shouts last call… unless I'm mistaken and you were just trying to get into my pants like the other girls.”
Tengeri flashed an endearingly serpentine grin. ”Something like that, but it isn’t my tongue you should be concerning yourself with. This whole incredibly stupid conversation has just been my way of stalling for time while Velobo got behind you and took out your men.”
Well this ‘incredibl’—oh.” The Tartan Tyrant reasoned that he probably should have been paying more attention to the recent onomatopoeia as a certain long, prehensile tongue coiled around his ankle and wrestled him to the ground. He cast an enraged glanced at his Meipi traveling companion. “TinTen, my man! I thought you had my back!”
TinTen shrugged and offered an appendage as Velobo released the Tyrant. ”No need to conflate indifference with betrayal. Velobo’s gambit added expedience to inevitable result: hearing Nyoka out.”
“In other words,” added Huebert, ”Shut up for one minute.”
Velobo resumed his position next to Tengeri and the man in black with an acrobatic leap. ”Hey, Scofflaw, we’ve never had much of a chance to talk,” said the Plazmuth. ”I’m Velobo Calidad, and I don’t really like you all that much.”
”I was more popular,” replied the ex-Saint solemnly, “When I was serving alcohol.”
* * * * * *
The crop of forest in the dead center of the battlefield was a peaceful place, seeming completely untouched by the war. The trees hadn’t been chopped down for lumber or even used as cover; the winding trail leading to the lake was a deer path, rather than anything you could conceivably drive a vehicle through. The four battlers and the Operative passed singlefile, with Teal scouts ahead and behind.
Velobo paused to admire a cluster of aphids crawling over a leaf. ”So much detail,” he noted. ”Hard to believe it’s all just some kind of video game.”
”Not really,” countered the Tartan Tyrant dismissively. Velobo glared.
”Scofflaw is likely hypothesizing that simulation is generative,” clarified TinTen. ”Sophisticated detail illusory, largely a product of observers’ expectations.”
”In other words,” put in the Tyrant, “’Her Majesty’ says ‘forest’ and your mind thinks of the smell of pine from that time your dad took you swan-hunting and it was O so majestic, and the simulation says ‘sure, why not’ and then you see fourteen empty beer cans next to a tree with a dead swan's neck wrapped around a branch--"
The Operative touched his face nervously. ”I’m not comfortable with this line of discussion.”
”Sorry,” said Tengeri. ”Look, guys, we’re living in this world for the time being. It’s probably not healthy to think too hard about where it came from.”
”Spoken like a true agnostic.” The former Scofflaw caught his kilt in some thorns and flailed a bit. “Personally, Mr. Operative, I envy your certainty as to the higher order of your existence. I’ve been trying to get a line on God for years.”
”Well, there’s the Fool,” suggested Velobo.
“Yes, I suppose. I also met the devil once. Sold my soul.”
”What for?” asked Huebert.
“Two souls. I lost the spare after about a month, but for a while there I could play the trumpet like no man alive.”
”We’re here.” The Operative stopped at the rocky shores of a large, still lake. ”The center of the Battlefield.”
A hawk alighted on a branch overhead, screeching territorially. ”If I had to describe this place in four words,” remarked Velobo, “‘Center of the Battlefield’ wouldn’t be my first thought.”
”Well,” corrected the perfidious plaid pilferer, “I’m not sure you should be the judge of that, Velobo. Who’s the expert on secret underwater bases here? It’s—well, actually I have people who do that for me, but look. These pebbles didn’t form naturally; they were planted to cover up, I don’t know, tire tracks, wiring maybe. See that stream rolling down from the mountain? You can see where they’ve carved out a hydroelectric dam—subtle, but not too subtle to be efficient. And I’ll bet you fifty bucks those black rocks over there are functioning as solar panels.”
TinTen sighed. ”Very impressive, Scofflaw, but--“
”Now, normally I’d suggest that these are only supplements to a main source of geothermal energy, but this area doesn’t have the volcanic look about it, mountain aside, so I’d venture to guess that they aren’t carrying enough wattage down there to give hot showers and reading lamps to any significant security force. So if we can find a way in, we shouldn’t have to expect any surprises beyond an auto-turret or two and some terrified don’t-hurt-me-I’m-just-the-lab-guy types.”
The villain took a deep breath. ”I could have told you all that,” offered the Operative. ”The silo is not, to my knowledge, well-staffed, but… Her Majesty has only apprised me of the location of one of the four Benefactors. The other three may have avatars active inside the silo, and they’ve manipulated the system to give themselves certain… perks.”
”Oh, Christ,” spat the kilted criminal kingpin. “So do they just get the Hugo Weaving package or are they all the One?”
”What?”
”Never mind. We’ll deal with the boss fight when we come to it. Let’s focus on getting inside. Is there an abovewater entrance?”
The Black kicked at a pebble. ”Probably, but… sorry, I don’t have the schematics. We could spend hours combing the forest for some kind of hatch, but—“
”Ugh, no thanks. It took the cast of Lost four seasons to find all the hatches. So the only smart move will be to go in through the water, and luckily we have not one but two amphibians on the team. TinTen, Tengeri, I know you’re uncomfortable taking orders, so now would be a good time to volunteer.”
TinTen poked the surface of the water with the appendage. ”We’ll go,” said Tengeri. ”If we find a way aboveground from the inside, we can let you in. In the meantime, you circle around to that hydroelectric dam and see if you can’t use it to boost the signal of the nullifier. Wait for Tor and Jetsam.”
”Wait, Tor’s coming? That—“ But Tengeri had already retreated into the lake alongside TinTen. Scofflaw growled, then addressed Velobo, Huebert, and the Operative. “Well, you heard the lady,” he barked. “Let’s get to that dam.”