PW: The Task Force Atlas Bar and Grill

[Military Democracy of Birtonia]

Knight-Paladin John Juliani

John listened intently as the robot essentially described himself as an artificial, omnipotent being. This "Nexus" then proceeded to pour some of the alcohol he was holding in his hand into a strange box that was attached somewhere to the innards of the machine.

"Well" John said slinging back his third glass, "There was this one time back over in Padnak, my team and I were chasing this HVT across a heavily populated urban area right?" he proceeded to explain whilst he poured yet another glass.

"So anyway, this guy lost us in the crowd, I decide to take to the rooftops and I'm running.." he imitates the movements of jumping over roofs while he explains, "and I jump onto the next roof and BAM! I go crashing down into the next floor, which turns out to be a very exotic brothel!" he exclaimed with quite some vigor.

He takes another sip and smiles, "Man, I had time to plug each one twice! I stepped outside and wouldn't you know it? My target is standing right in front of me! Was gonna use the same brothel as a hideout, shot him right in the legs and we exfilled out. Good mission" he mused, finally feeling the alcohol.

[Patrick OConner]

A deep rumbling fills the sky and Overhill looks up taking his eyes off the two interesting...beings in front of him and looks up. He looks confused but then stops and shakes his head.
"Crap they are earlier...OH S&^% Speedy is flying her...crap crap crapitty crap. I need to go see you two later"
Overhill turns and dashes off to the airstrip.
"I hope Speedy does not pull his usual tricks...fat chance of that....crap"
I the sky the rumbling grows louder and louder until a black shape appears. It quickly resolves into a black plane
(

).
The plane comes in low and buzzes the tower before pulling up into a sharp climb. It levels off then performs a barrel roll before doing a split S and buzzing the ground once more heading off westward. Overhill swears again and then yanks a phone from is pocket and presses a button on the side and scream into it
"GODDAMN IT SPEEDY STOP IT NOW AND LAND. THEY ARE TRYING TO LOCK YOU UP I BET AND THEY WILL ON IR IF YOU KEEP THIS UP THE DAMN BAFFLES CAN NOT TAKE IT AT FULL POWER"
The plane slows down and comes back around in a lazy turn before coming to a stop and hovering in the air over the strip. The landing gear deploys and the plane gently touches down on the strip. Overhill sighs in relief and heads over to the plane. The rear opens up in clam shell door opens and 4 guys walk out. The first is a true monster of man. Standing tall at 6' 9 inches and 424 pounds. He is lack as night with classical African features and brown eyes, Sergeant First Class Brandon "Heavy Metal" Freeman is a quit man who gives off and arua of strength and stability. Next to him is much shorter and rather weasel faced socially awkward. At 5'10 and 203 pounds Chief Petty Officer Aaron "Longshot" Smith is an interesting one to say the least. Behind the pair is a rather short and slight one compared to the rest. At 5'7' and 175 pounds he is rather small, LT.Travis "Doc" Holliday is one of the most important people on the team having saved many lives in his time as well as taken many. And next to him is perhaps the most interesting and odd one of the group of harden killers. Staff Sergeant John "Wired" Lloyd looks like...well a nerd, and weighing only 170 and at 5' 6, his sizes does not help. The only thing he is missing is the thick coke bottle glasses but like the rest of Team Thanatos he is well muscled and a deadly man. So he may be a nerd but he is a nerd that kick most people's butts all day long. Another man comes running down the ramp and he is the smallest of the lot. Tan skin and dark eyes with Spanish features Captain Rodrigo "Speedy" Gonzalez is the pilot and man responsible for the recent air show. At 5' 4 and only 159 pounds he is the smallest of the lot but no less skilled being able to fly anything that moves through the air, but is also a lethal soldier if the mission calls for it. He comes trotting down the ramp loaded down with all of his gear like the rest of the team. Overhill trots up and past the rest of the team and goes straight for the captain and then begins to yell at him.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT CAPTAIN GONZALEZ? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? WHAT COULD OF STUNT WAS THAT? THEY COULD HAVE SHOT YOU DOWN AND KILLED YOU AND THE REST OF THE TEAM. WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?"
Gonzalez, apperantly having experienced this before shrug and replies calmly
"I was testing out the new upgrades I swear. The handling is improved a lot and the stealth capability is great increased as well. I swear Major Overki- I mean Overhill, sir."
Overhill sighs and rubs his forehead remembering now that the plane code named the "Ratteltrap" had in fact been given some new secret upgrades recently to improve is capabilities.
"The sad thing is I know you are telling the truth. Why is the rest of the team here earlier and where is Team Letus?"
"The training exercise finished earlier and Team Letus was rushed off to some other important mission."
Gonzalez anticipates Overhill next question and answers it while Overhill is forming the first word with his lips.
"Unkown, they were sent to scout...something sir."
Gonzalez places his ruck sack on the ground and draws out a small envelope.
"Here, sir. Latest orders and intel updates."
Overhill looks at the small envelope dubiously.
"All of it in here?"
"Yes sir, it is o one of those new data cards, just plug it into your wrist comp."
"Got it"
Overhill pockets the sealed envelope and turns to the rest of the team who have been standing by watching the goings on.
"Go get settled in. The bar is open and I am heading there myself."
Grins break out as the men are clearly relieved to hear and and they hustle off the put there stuff away. Overhill rubs his head again feeling a headache coming on caused by as usual Speedy himself. I wonder if I ever gave O'Conner headaches like this?...I know I did. Bet this is karma.. Overhill turns heads for the bar at a trot. He enters and heads straight over to the bar giving everyone the once over as he enters and walks over the bar. He picks a stool with 5 other open near it and sits down ordering a scotch on the rocks. It arrives quickly and he gulps down half of it before sipping on the rest. Overhill sighs again. I was hoping for a few days away from them but it looks like that aint happening... He turns and looks at of all things the robot sitting at the bar not surprised anymore after having met the two snake girls. He noticed that the robot clearly had had placed something on the bar. It was a small box with vents and wires attached to him leading back to the robot.gonna meet alot of interesting people and things here. Crap better keep Wired away from him-her...it. Fat chance of that. Just going to have to tell him not to take it a part and hope for the best. At this point a familiar friendly face. Sergeant First Class Brandon Freeman had entered the bar. He stooped at the doorway and he had to turn sideways to get inside. He walked over to the bar and he too gave everyone the once over as he entered and he made a mental note to check out the robot later. He took a stool next Overhill. As he sat down the stool which groaned from his weight. He too ordered a scotch but sipped on it instead of drinking half of it like Overhill.
"Everyone settling in Sarge?"
"Yes sir. Lloyd is doing his thing checking out the computer security. Smith is tending to his 'babies' and Holliday just crashed, seems he could not sleep with Speedy's piloting. Oh and he disappeared some where. Probably checking out the other guy's helis and planes."
When Freeman speaks it sounds like his voice is staring somewhere around his feet and it rumbles up through his body and until it finally comes out of his mouth in a deep bass rumble that is still soft.
"Christ do not tell me Lloyd is trying to hack the computer systems?"
"What do you think?"
"Doing just that....oh well. So Smith is dragging his babies...which ones did he bring?"
"All of em."
"Christ. I should of known. Even Milly?"
"Even Milly"
"Oh boy"
"Yeah."
Overhill shakes his head and sips some more scotch from his glass.
"Oh Major, they got most of the bugs works out of the Mechanized Assault Suit Exoskeleton. We should be getting a set for all of us soon. About a week. They solved the power problems. Cells will last about 4 days now"
"Great. I assume they are compatible with the ACS and ACH?" Freeman nods.
"Oh and get this they got these new weapon systems that go with then. They are called the Optional Weapon Systems and Powered Optional Weapon Systems. Different is one is self contained and the other draws power from the suit."
"So they are called O.W.S and P.O.W.S that come from a M.A.S.E?"
"Yes sir"
Overhill chuckles and then looks around the place once more.
"You know this place reminds of?"
"The Old Place?" Referring to a favored bar back home that was always a favored place of the military folks back home.
"Yeah. Remember when Force Recon was formed there? Well at least the nucleus of it."
"Yeah...brings back memories does it?"
"To the fallen of Operation Repo." Freeman raise his glass at this statement and quaffs the rest of it.
"Aye to that hell on earth and those that died there" Overhill copies Freeman's action.
"So what do you think Sarge?"
"Of what?"
"This task force Atlas."
"They look good. Should be interesting."
"That is an understatement for sure"

---

Chief Petty Officer Aaron "Longshot" Smith is busy wheeling to very large green hard plastic cases over to the firing range right now. They contain his "babies". His three favorite rifles. He finally gets over to the lane with the longest distance and he looks at it and thinks about which one get out. He opens the second case and removes his M82 Barrett .50 caliber rifle and places in on the line. He removes several mags of ammo of different calibers from the case, a spotter scope and a laptop computer and a wire and closes the case. He then hauls the other two back from the line after he gets a pair of ear plugs and mufflers from the case and putting them on. He opens the computer and plugs the wire into the computer and then into the scope on the rifle. He loads the rifle. He carefully sets up the spotter scope and looks through it to the target and studies it and the conditions. He grunts and settles in behind the rifle and clicks off the safety. He takes a deep breath and lets half of it out and then pulls the trigger. The rifle booms and recoils into his shoulder. He looks through the spotter scope and grunts.
"Off" He types some stuff into the computer then settles back behind the rifle and fires again. He checks using the spotter scope and grunts once more.
"Better. Much better."
He puts up the Barrett and opens the first case. He removes from it and truly massive piece of precision long range lethal force applicator. It is the M101 Mighty Milly, a 20mm sniper 'rifle'. Smith grunts as he picks the massive weapon and lugs it over to the firing line before squatting and placing the weapon down carefully. He looks at the thing fondly, like a man at his favorite dog. The weapon is 7.5 feet long and 2 feet tall. The scope is fully integrated and actually part of the rifle with a built in computer and sensors. He plugs the wire into the scope and loads a massive magazine into the weapons and chambers around. and settles behind it and a smile breaks out across his face as he selects a new target down range. He takes a deep breath and lets out half of it and pulls the trigger. The cannon emits a massive boom and hurls the round down range. Smith fires again and once more. He is smiling broadly now as he checks his hits down range and grunts in satisfaction before and going back and firing the cannon again for the sheer joy of firing his favorite gun ever made. He ejects the massive magazine and loads another into the cannon and presses the button and the massive bolt move forward with a clank and strips a round from the mag and feeds it into the breach

---

Captain Rodrigo "Speedy" Gonzalez is raoming around the air strip and hangars checking out all of the interesting planes and helicopters. He stops by the helicopters. While he liked speed but helicopters always had a special place in his heart. They looked so awkward and weird and like that they should be in the air at all but still flew. They were the bulldogs of air travel and the uglier the helicopter the more he liked it and their were some pretty ugly looking helicopters here. They looked like some of the ones back home and he wonder if they flew as good as them. But no plane or helicopter would take the place of beloved Rattletrap. He looks around for a fellow pilot to talk to.

[Congreveopia]

Nexus was a good listener. If he thought what you were saying was important, he would probably be the best listener you’d ever encountered in your life. Humans forgot details, and cameras stored data without understanding or sorting it, but Nexus suffered from none of these defects. He could listen to John’s story, and genuinely fully understand what John was saying, and remember all of it. Each word that came out of John’s mouth subtly built a massive web of information. Nexus could see satellite images of the area the operation was in. He could compare and contrast John’s speech with media briefings, speeches, reports, news articles, intelligence data, and more. When John talked about falling through the roof, Nexus had a probability model for what material the roof was made of. When John mentioned shooting the target, Nexus knew what gun John had been using, what caliber bullet it fired, what the recoil felt like. The information was all gathered, connections were found, relationships were built, and the final result was burned into the zettabytes of memory that made up Nexus’s mind.

That was all hidden however, Nexus could remember everything you said, and still look like he couldn’t care less about what you were saying. A lot of effort had gone into avoiding this eventuality; people disliked being ignored, and one of Nexus’s main objectives was to make people like him. Looking like he was paying attention wasn’t necessarily easier or harder than remembering all the information well, but it was a very different skill. Nexus was approaching a decade old, though, and he’d been in countless conversations. By this time, he knew how to read facial expressions. He knew when to nod quietly, lean back, look surprised, look happy, and all of these emotions were passed on to the emotion engine which mapped them into actions for the robot. The actions were uploaded, and the robot then modified them to avoid collisions and performed them at just the right moments to almost look as if a human was listening.

“Okay, okay.” said Nexus, when John was done talking. Nexus was having a good time by now. More people were in the bar, and he was silently watching them and learning their mannerisms. As people gathered to the bar, the likelihood that those snake people would visit increased. maybe Kayora would even show up. Nexus didn’t know if she drank alcohol. On further consideration, Nexus wasn’t even sure whether she even ate food. Certainly he didn’t eat, and his drinking right now was more of a party trick than an actual method of recharging. All these thoughts wandered through Nexus’s mind, but the most important objective was to maintain an unbroken and natural interaction with John.

“My turn to tell a story.” said Nexus, the sentence flowing naturally along seconds after the former one, despite all of the thoughts other minds of his had been thinking in the interim. Nexus took a deep drink from his glass and got ready.

Telling stories was a lot harder than hearing them. Summarising reports was one of Nexus’s earliest skills, from back when he served a mainly administrative role, but a vast and perilous gulf lay between “convey maximum information value in minimum space” and “tell an interesting story”. “Tell an interesting story.” was still beyond Nexus. He simply could not do it. One day, Data Command would work on setting up an infrastructure for developing, constructing, analyzing, and rating stories, but that was still a feature to be implemented. As a stopgap measure, Nexus didn’t tell stories often, and when he did he cheated. He was about to cheat now.

He picked an interesting event that he knew a lot about, but John probably didn’t know about: the attack on the Archibald Dam. Then he madly gathered data on it: news reports, two documentaries, security camera footage, cell phone camera footage, five novels, several poems, one unpublished autobiography, calls of Congreveopians discussing the event, anything and everything he could find. He then meshed it all together and tried to pull a short story out of it. He looked for phrasing that was common, the mood of the descriptions of the parts of the event, how long different sources dwelled on details. He adjusted this all for how John liked his stories: the books he read, the shows he watched, how he’d told the story just now.

“So, there’s a place in Congreveopia where they’re building a dam called the Hájek dam.” said Nexus “They’re building it on the foundations of the Archibald Dam. Let me tell you about how that first dam went missing…”

---

“...So, they’ve killed off the sniper and the MG, and they’ve stopped most of the guys in the vans, but these other terrorists, well trained guys, rappelled over the side and started laying charges of C4 all the way down. Now, Alex is pointing a rifle at the last C4 guy and yells for him to put his hands on the rope and stop moving. Terrorist shouts back some random phrases from a ‘teach yourself Russian’ book and blows the charges, all of the charges. Immediately, the reservoir starts pouring through this huge scar down the side of the dam, then the entire thing begins to collapse, like the concrete turned to jelly, and in seconds there’s nothing left but a short stump on either side…” said Nexus, a tablet he’d set on the bar showing the video from a drone that was watching as the dam collapsed.


---

“...The MRAP is tumbling through this tsunami of water, and Natasha’s trying to keep her helicopter safe and keep pace with it. The GAmeTopian guys have waterproof helmets or something, so they leap into the wave on tethers, swim to the MRAP, and pull out as many people as they can. Two of the soldiers and the terrorist leader are taken onto the helicopter, but then a wave broadsides it, and the thing begins spinning out into the path of the water...”

By this time, Nexus had gathered enough information on this part of the story that he could animate the event based on the video that had been taken at the time. The animation now played on the tablet next to him.

---

“...The 737 is coming in, and I’m flying it blind. The runway is built to land, like, small propellor planes, and I’m landing a commercial jet on it. I’ve got two or three people on the ground with cameras, plus the data from the plane’s glass box. Anyways, I slip it, then the right wing stalls, the pilot goes mad and guns the throttle, and the thing hits the dirt hard, far too hard for the fuselage to hold together…”

Nexus was reading the expressions of the small group that had gathered to listen, and was modifying the story and movie on the fly based on their reactions.

---

“...They’re bleeding, and one of them had a concussion or something, but the medical team is still mostly fine, assuming they get care soon, until the terrorist leader decides to slit all of their throats. He then starts banging on the door to the flight deck, and I can see from a laptop’s webcam he has a knife. Door’s not armored or anything, but before he breaks it, the pilot gives me total control of the engines, and he can’t take it back, no matter what the terrorist guy does, so I can force the thing down if I need to. Then the terrorist leader breaks open the door, and the copilot, this poor kid, tries to talk to him and calm him down. The copilot’s maybe halfway through his first sentence when he sees the bodies in back and throws up…”

Nexus actually had video of the event as he talked, but he opted for pictures of the interior layout of the medical Eclipse 500 to be shown on the tablet instead. The event was a bit too morbid to remain cheerful while watching.

---

“...But the pod was mislabeled, and I don’t know this until it’s already most of the way back into the atmosphere. So, it’s not a robot tank, it’s a massive fuel-air bomb, and the airport vanishes in a ball of fire. At that point, the humans think I meant to blow up the airport, like I’m rebelling against them and trying to take over or something, and they take me offline before I can figure out what’s going on, and that’s when the s*** really hits the fan. I wish Charles was here, he was central to the next part. He could tell you what happened, because I don’t have all of the airship’s logs…”

At some point, Nexus had realised he was getting dangerously close to secret information, so he carefully selected video and animations that didn’t show anything secret, and he subtly changed the story to steer interest away from the parts that included anything he would have to refuse to comment on as he continued to explain the events.

[Monfrox]

Nix and Phys both looked at each other knowingly as the range suddenly became a bit loud and crowded. Almost on a telepathic wavelength, they started a conversation between themselves.

"Do you want to-"

"Go clean the weapons and scope out the barracks?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

The two got off their stomachs and quietly left the range to find their assigned barracks. Obviously, some arrangements were going to have to be made for them, so they figured they'd do it on their own. After getting directions to their designated barracks from some fidgety base personnel, the sisters took the liberty of making a makeshift "nest" of sorts out of their pillows, blankets, and matresses. Nix began to disassemble her L115A3 and set the parts out as Phys pulled out a book and began reading.

[Patrick OConner]

The door to the bar bangs open once more and 4 more guys file in. They are the rest of the guys from Team Thanatos. Staff Sergeant Aaron "Longshot" Smith walks in first smelling of propellant and gun oil having just finished detail cleaning his beloved rifles and stowing them in his quarters. Following him is Sergeant John "Wired" Lloyd his is wearing the strange sun glasses that all of them seem to have on them or be wearing. On his wrist is a glowing touch screen that he is currently staring at and typing away on. Behind him is LT.Travis "Doc" Holliday still yawning after having been woken up from his nap. And finally Captain Rodrigo "Speedy" Gonzalez brings up the rear letting the door slam shut behind him. All of them give the place the once over casually as they walk over to the bar and takes thier seats next to Major Overhill and SFC Freeman. Gonzalez orders tequila and Llyod a beer the rest get whiskey.
Smith leans over and speaks to Lloyd
"What a dump and the crowd in ugly as sin in here"
Lloyd smiles and looks up at him and replies "I know just like home eh?"
The drinks arrive and the whole team picks there drinks up high and say
"To Repo and all the men that died there" And take a slug from there glasses before setting them down.

[Hurtful Thoughts]

Having done what the Hurti gunners came to do, Schwartz, Boomer, and Rosenthal nodded to the newcomer with the 20mm rifle as they packed-up and left. Knowing the guy was blissfully unaware that a few MPs would be cascading upon the rifle-range to confiscate any and all toys that fit the bill of a semi-automatic 20mm cannon. Although the expression on Longshot's face would undoubtedly be priceless, they didn't want to be around to help clear-up the ensuing confusion... best to drag this prank out a bit longer.

So now they needed a place to lie-low. The bar seemed like a good place to hide without making it look like 'hiding' and would help the determine when to best come-clean about harassing the garrison troopers.

Inside, Crompton noticed a bunch of new people gathering around the bucket of bolts avatar of an AI in charge of an entire national defense grid as it listened intently to a foreign trooper discuss the finer details of a botched op he was on. Chances are Nexus could track down every single one of those harem-girls and compare his dick-size from their eyewitness-accounts, if it hadn't already.

To prove this, Crompton strode up to Nexus and asked him a question: "Based on what you can access, and what you've been told: was he going boxers, briefs, or commando during that mission?"*

Just as Crompton was asking Nexus to guess another operator's underwear-preference, Rosenthal's group (and Longshot) clamored in, how they arrived together despite the Hurti head-start was anybody's guess, but likely it was due to some altercation or another involving ninjas digging post-holes.

*Yes, that ooc discussion is now relevant.

[Patrick OConner]

Overhill and Llyod being the closest to the robot and company and the only ones to actually hear them since the rest of the team are busying talking among-est themselves. Llyod looks up from his wrist comp and leans over to listen all the while sizing the robot up and down mentally taking him apart and figuring out how he works while also figuring out his programming. I bet he is self aware and the algorithms are probably extremely complex. Llyod thinks to himself while picturing the the construction of the body and the power supply which he notes is resting on the bar. Also how the servos work and other details. I wonder if it has self repair capability?
"So what was he wearing under his clothes?" Llyod asks
"Yeah tell us" Overhill says having gotten off his bar stool and walked around to stand next Llyod to hear the answer
"Come on I will swap you a story if you do" Overhill says to goad the machine on.

[Congreveopia]

“Okay, okay, give me a moment to assimilate some more data.” said Nexus, in response to the ridiculous question being posed to him.

In actuality, Nexus had all the data, and it was insufficient to determine the answer or even make a good guess. It was always frustrating when Nexus found information that could have been preserved, but hadn’t. There weren’t any cameras where John had dressed, and he couldn’t find any regulations for the Birtonian Special Forces to narrow it down. If it were a normal question being asked of him, he would have just admitted ignorance, but there was something odd going on here, and he couldn’t tell what. He decided to call for help.

In Congreveopia, it was nighttime, but the Bureau of Nexus Management at Data Command never slept. A skeleton crew remained in the building, tracking Nexus’s usage of various servers, and replying to occasional questions from Nexus. Another one came in from the subcore managing the avatar in the bar.

“Okay, yes, there is another social aspect to this that you don’t know about.” said one of the responders, looking at a condensed report from Nexus on the past five minutes. “How are we for time?”

“I said I was assimilating data.” answered Nexus “It’s been a couple seconds, though. They’re a bit restless.”

“I’m going to pass responsibility for your response to Janice.” said the responder “For now, I want you to say the following statement with five degrees surprised, twenty degrees sarcasm, and whatever else fits. That’ll get us a bit more time...”

Back in the bar, Nexus took another drink, and then turned back to the people around him. “Well, what do you know?” he said “It looks like there’s a lot of data on this subject to look through. Quite a few reports and such, my my.”

Nexus waited for a few more seconds while Data Command finished briefing him on what to do, he had the robot adjust its posture in the meantime to look like it was still thinking.

“Hmm… okay.” said Nexus, in a slightly malicious voice “I don’t have enough data to hand to get a definate answer. I’m sure the good ladies and gentlemen of the brothel could enlighten us further, but I can tell you that I don’t see any reason for him to have changed his underwear preferences since that mission. If you really want to know, I fear your best chance to find out is sitting right here at this bar.”

“I’ve enacted your statement.” said Nexus to Data Command “Now explain what’s going on here. I am totally out of my depth.”

“It’s kind of like a hazing, I suppose.” replied someone from Data Command “Look up what you can on that, but not really, I don’t think. Basically they are testing you, and trying to find the limits of your software. They were hoping, I would hazard a guess, that the vulgar nature of the previous question would derail you, or that if you answered it normally without noticing the differences, that they could mock you for that. You replied instead with a challenge to them: ‘if you want to know, strip John and check his underwear.’, which at least keeps everyone on their toes at around you, and feels like a response that a human would give if they had your data. Depending on what happens next, John might resent you for this, but better to lose one potential friend than be the laughing stock of the base. You have a very brief window here when most people haven’t decided whether to think of you as a person or a robot, and we need to get as many to decide you’re a person as possible, because you will have a lot more leverage on them that way. Don’t worry, though, we’ll get a team together in the morning to watch the situation and make sure you don’t make any critical mistakes. We’ve all got your back, Nexus.”

[Patrick OConner]

"Okay a deal is a deal now listen to this cause as cliched as it sounds it is true. Y'all aint gonna believe this. Now there are blank spaces cause i was not their and most of the stuff is still classified. A long time ago before Force Recon was formed and before all of that other stuff went down then Captain O'Conner and myself, a mere Lt at the time and some other Marines were on leave in Columbia.We had been their before it my good friend O'Conner had grown attached to certain whore at a local brothel. So when we got off the boat we were assigned to, we headed straight that brothel and proceeded to eat, drink and screw. O'Conner got drunk of course and quickly discovered that his favored hooker was absent. so he...inquired, rather vigorously i might add, as to here where abouts her and discovered that a local drug lord had taken a shine to her and taken her to his compound. O'Conner did like this at all.
The man is rather stubborn to the point of insanity and more so after he has hit the bottle. So he went to the compound and ask to have her back. The guards at the gate of the compound said no and then proceeded to laugh and insult O'Conner eventually they hit upon something that he took offense too. You can not image what happens when O'Conner takes offense at something. Think Old Testament wrath of God type stuff. And well to say violence issued is a bit of an understatement, more like the wrath of an angry god as i just said. O'Conner killed those guards. Another one saw him doing this and he then triggered the alarm before O'Conner managed to shoot him with a gun he had taken from one of the fallen guards. What happened next was like kicking over an anthill. People running every where shots getting fired. A really big mess all things considered.
And for some reason this meant that O'Conner then had to 'finish the job' as he would say. So three hours and a bunch of bullets, explosive and flammables later all the thugs are dead and the drug lord and most of his family are dead, the compound and the fields were burning and O'Conner has lady of the evening back. He had a few scratches on himself but that was it. Amazing huh? Which he then proceeded to screw her on the drugs lords bed with his body still cooling in the same room. And the whole time O'Conner himself was actually, really really drunk. Next day the cartel imploded. Everywhere. It just fell apart. The after math was rather funny actually. The FBI, CIA, DEA and all of them were running around trying to figure out what happened and how could an entire cartel just disappear. It quickly became known in the next 24 hours that it was O'Conner. And he was still on leave at the time. Apparently a whirl wind of stuff happened at the top level of government. And this entire time O'Conner was still on leave having screwing himself and the woman he had just saved silly. They had of course moved back to the brothel at this time. Eventually someone sent someone to fetch O'Conner and they seemed to of had a difficult time doing it as he thought it was people seeking revenge on him. Until he got back to the embassy and it all got straightened out then. From what I hear it was really funny since O'Conner does not remember anything besides the sex which he claims was worth it. It was all funny. They still whisper tails of him out there. They call him...the de Borrachos Diablo or the Drunken Devil"
Overhill takes a swig from his glass.
"Don't believe me? Get the computer access the public declassified records on it. They will confirm it all true"

[Hurtful Thoughts]

After pondering the Nexus avatar's response, Crompton grumbled a bit to himself in thought as Overhill recounted some epic drunken tale with his former commanding-officer before getting up to leave, stopping only to give Nexus a slight; "That wasn't really a guess or an answer, Nexus. He was wearing boxer-briefs. Nice try, though."

He then left before anyone could deny his statements or ask how he came to that conclusion, and went for the barracks. Way too much dick-waving and alcohol with loaded weapons involved back at the bar for him to deal with.

---

After an uneasy bit of silence at their comrade's departure, Schwartz came up with a mission he once did...

"Well, there was one odd mission awhile back. Our intelligence-agency came across a terrorist raid on some sort of secret weapons-program from an aggressive corporate-state... silly stuff. We figured to kill three birds with one stone... Eliminate the terrorist cell, neuter the corporation from becoming the de-facto ruling power, and capture the secret weapon."

He then sat down.

"We knew their weapon was something big. The test-areas left a lot of scattered debris, meaning it either did a lot of damage, or was meant to deal with multiple threats simultaneously with precision. We also knew they were re-structuring their national defense grids to incorporate this weapon-system at the base-level; sort of like Nexus, here."

He then helped himself to a pint off the tap, letting it sink-in that their squad's mission was to single-handedly wipe out and cripple a nations ability to defend itself from pretty much anything.

"It was really only after the terrorists crashed their van into a river that we found out the key to their great weapon was just a pre-pubescent girl. For the most part we were following a bunch of dead-leads trying to secure the package. Strank was trailing one of these leads when he was relieved due to getting his cover blown, when he heard it crying in the woods. It was damaged in the fall, so when Strank found it surrounded by witnesses, Crompton gave the kill-order."

He waited for Nexus to start jumping to conclusions as he calmly enjoyed his fermented beverage.

---

Crompton entered the barracks and took one of the lower bunks to lay down on, noticing an NCO and a senior-enlistee claiming a good chunk of the barracks. To be fair, the specialist was cleaning both their rifles while the sergeant read a book and 'supervised'. There was a faint odor of gunfire, so he reasoned they just came from the range. Possibly newly-issued weapons.

"Fresh outta boot?" He pointed at his shoulder, indicating he was referring to their lack of being over-ranked vetties like many of the other operators, and probably didn't have any stories to tell at the bar. He also noticed neither of them seemed to be over 21. "When did you start?" He clarified.

[Monfrox]

Nix hissed lowly at the accusation of being transferred in straight out of Basic Training as she continued to clean her rifle. As if the show-offs at the range weren't bad enough for today. Seriously, who uses a 23mm anti-tank gun as a sniper rifle? The philosophy of "bigger is always better" wasn't exactly held true when it came to firearms. Phys, however, looked up from her book and over at Crompton a bit suspiciously.

"Last time I checked...this was supposed to be a female barracks. Also last time I checked, males should announce themselves upon entering a female barracks." She narrowed her eyes with snake pupils at him.

[Hurtful Thoughts]

Crompton sat up, not at Nix's hissing, but with Sgt Phys's false sense of entitlement, "I'm not aware of any special accommodations your team has been privilege to in the past, but this is an ATLAS barracks. The people who use these barracks are the same people who will also be held responsible for your safety. That separate-but-equal lone-wolf bullshit is just going to get you two ostracized and possibly fragged the first moment you become inconvenient to the team."

He then laid back down, sure he just about made his point.

"So stripping both your weapons for cleaning at the same time may not be the smartest of moves if you're so keen to make enemies on this base. Been there, done that, got left behind and had to walk my way out of a Charlie-foxtrot more than once, so prove me wrong."

[Patrick OConner]

Smith is tired of the people, He never was a social person to start with it and age had done nothing about it. He finished his drink and left. He headed back to the barracks to work on his rifles. Milly had felt different. The trigger pull was feeling a bit sticky for some reason and he wanted to know why and fix it. Always keep your gear in top form. He got to the barracks and stopped. There were more people in them. A man and two...snake girls? Wow should be interesting. Hey there are snipers too. Think I saw them at the range. Smith walks into the barracks and rummages through his stuff till he find the massive green hard plastic case and wheel it out and opens it. He reaches inside and heaves the massive rifle out and places it on the floor. Next comes the tool kit and Smith begins to take the gun apart. He lays out the parts in a neat orderly manner as he removes them from the gun until he gets to the trigger assembly. He removes it and takes it apart and then takes out a micrometer and starts to measure all of the peices one by one.

---

Overhill saw Smith eave and he shrugged. He knew the man was not very sociable on his best days and worst...well lets not think about that. Overhill signaled the bar tender for another round and for drinks for his men as well. He pulls out a tablet he had retrieved from his stuff and plugged the card in and started to go over the intel updates. So far nothing earth shattering...which is good

[Monfrox]

The day just kept getting better and better. Still, Staff Sergeant Physosia kept her composure and tactfully replied to Crompton.

"The only "special accommodations" I'm used to are barracks segregated by sex. Men would announce "male in the barracks" upon attempting to enter the women's barracks, and the responses of "clear" and "not clear" dictated whether or not he was to come in. I could've been getting ready to take a shower when you waltzed on in like you owned the place, wrapped in nothing but a towel. How inappropriate would that have been, hm? so in short, I don't believe that my Specialist and I have own over this whole barracks. We assumed it to be open to the rest of the females in the task force, and would be just fine with that. What we are not fine with, however, is unannounced male presences making false accusations against our image."

Her voice had a sort of infliction without it being raised. She looked back to her book, uninterested in both Crompton and Smith.

Nixthise took her turn to chime in.

"Not to mention but I'm only cleaning the L115 sssssinccccce it wasssss the only weapon I ussssssed at the range today. I'm sure you can sssssssssee that, plainly." Her hissing was a side-effect of all the lamias that came out of Monfrox. They hissed their S's whenever they grew very irritated. It was the only natural hint they gave about their disposition, whereas lamias of the rattlesnake subspecies had the tell-tale rattle that they shook; The international sound for "Back off".

[Hurtful Thoughts]

Crompton paused to make a mental note that Monfroxian lamias demand a certainly overbearing degree of this thing they call privacy "Are all your people so vain that all accommodations must be so strictly regulated?"

His discussion was briefly interrupted when Smith came in to calmly go over the fine details of his rifle, most likely checking chamber-tolerances, barrel-alignment, and trigger-shears.

"We obviously use these barracks too, how would you feel to be locked out of your own barracks simply because some privileged few inside refused to grant clearance? For a month? And don't say you wouldn't even think about it, some of the guys from my old squad were jerks, but they were my jerks; now they're yours. Which brings me back to my first actual question -which I asked first- when did you two join-up?"

[Patrick OConner]

Smith is listening because he is in the same room and he is growing annoyed at this. He wanted to get away from the people not get stuck in the middle of more of them and by the looks of it they are about to fight...up close. Bleh. Proper fights should be conducted outside of the enemies range and ability to hurt you but that is besides the point. I suppose it is time that I speak. Maybe it will end this fight and i can work in peace. Smith looks up and finally speaks he notices the gun first.
"Nice gun L115a3." Smiths voice is a quiet soft rough baritone that reminds most people of the mountains for some reason.
"I bunked with women. FR has team made of em. Seen em naked. Look at them wrong and they will tear your balls off and choke you to death with em. We are all professionals. We are all supposed to be able to work together and get along. If you want me to move I will do so just ask. Same for my team mates. Don't know about him though. Don't think he meant to offend you either."
Smith grimaced at this. He had spoken a lot and he did not like it. He was not a talker. He went back to his trigger group. He had found the problem. A part had become rough some how. He checked the other part that touches it and found it worn and sub standard by his own that is. He tossed the bad one grabbed a new one and polished the other one then set about lubing and reassembling his favorite gun.

[Congreveopia]

“Stories, ethanol, hostility, and lies.” thought Nexus “I’m lost, and I want out. I think I’m making negative progress, and this intel is barely worth one fiftieth the servers I’m pulling for this.”

Back at data command, about a dozen people were sipping coffee in a free conference room, trying to help Nexus through the delicate social dynamics of the situation he was in.

“Steady.” said a programmer, Leonila Blalock “You’ve been to parties before, right Nexus? This shouldn’t be too tricky.”

“I’ve been to official dinners, coronations, government celebrations, parades, promotions, weddings, and even political rallies.” said Nexus “Those are all carefully scripted events, though. The number of times I’ve been in a normally operating bar in an avatar could be counted on two hands. This is high-stakes, and I’m out of my depth. Help me, or let me get out of here.”

Leonila turned to the only psychologist awake in data command at this hour of the night.

“I agree that the avatar should get out.” he said “He’s held his own so far, but we’re one mistake from calamity. Right now, these guys are all interacting, all hiding their intentions as best they can, and all drinking, and Nexus’s presence just makes it harder to read them by throwing a handful of other variables into the mix. Make a good exit, and let’s study from afar.”

“How am I getting out?” asked Nexus “I can have Cobra blow a hole in the wall, but short of that the crowd’s kinda got me surrounded, and this avatar can’t even jump, let alone shove burly people aside.”

“Just give them a good excuse and go.” said another programmer “You’re a six foot two robot. Nobody’s going to refuse to let you past.”

“Okay, so I ‘need to go check on the unloading of supplies’?” asked Nexus.

“No, that sounds really robotic.” said Leonila. “You’re stepping out for a breath of fresh air.”

“Pardon me, I need to step outside for a breath of fresh air.” said Nexus’s avatar back at the bar, paying for his drink electronically while the robot gathered up its tablet and its fuel cell. It then stood up and worked its way through the crowd to the door. Once it was outside, Nexus relaxed and leaned against a nearby wall.

“So what’s the next play?” thought Nexus “I want intel, and hearts, and minds, and productivity, and in that order.”

“Go for a walk yourself and tour the facilities.” said Leonila “Meanwhile, did we bring any aide ‘bots?”

“Yeah, there are eight boxed up on the plane.” said Nexus “Charles likes helpers while he works, and humans cost too much to replace.”

“They’re charged.” said a programmer, glancing at the plane’s manifest as Nexus put it on one of the conference room’s many projectors. “They can be ready to go in under fifteen minutes.”

“Perfect.” said Leonila “We’ll get them carrying small boxes from the plane to our storage area, and they can take vastly different routes through the base on the way to meet people.”

“That at least octuples the time to unload the plane, even if I have the actual cargo moving robots shift the stuff the aides can’t.” replied Nexus. “What’s the upside I’m not seeing?”

“The aides are cute.” replied Leonila “Play them as innocent helpers, and almost everyone that meets them loves them. I can tell you from firsthand experience that it feels great to open a gate or press an elevator button for one of them.”

“Okay, so I’m using them to make people like me.” said Nexus “And on the pretence of moving cargo, I’m walking eight of these three foot tall humanoid robots around the base in ways that make it look like they need basic help from time to time.”

“Yes.” said Leonila.

"This makes me look more robotic and less alive if anything." said Nexus.

"Don't claim you're the aides." said the psychologist "We'll use them to establish a baseline in people's minds for what's a robot. Then you just exceed it, and you're a human."

“Okay, I like the plan.” said Nexus “Next priority is the Lamias, seeing as there’s no sign of Kayora yet. I’ll visit the range and try to surreptitiously deduce where they went.”

[Monfrox]

"Strictly regulated? Have you taken a look at any other Army in the world? Most of them separate their males and females in separate barracks. This practice is not unheard of. In fact, it is more often than not chosen over co-ed barracks. Not to mention, last time I checked, this barracks was actually unoccupied. The only things here when we got in where the bunks, lockers, and sheets."

The Specialist gave Smith a look of pity. "You mussssst be new here."

"Nix."

"What?"

"Be quiet."

Phsyosia turned her attention back to Crompton as her sister shrugged and continued cleaning.

"Look, you can call us "vain" and "strict" all you want, but the fact of the matter as I see it is that you are intruding unannounced on two females in their barracks, and it sounds like you're only listening to half of what I'm saying. Perhaps I'd be more inclined to share information with a man who was more formal in his mannerisms." The important thing was to keep calm above anything else. Really, she didn't want to spell it out, but the flight over was very tiring and they were fixing on getting some rest very soon.

[Hurtful Thoughts]

(Well, I just realized Boomer's real first name is... well... Boomer. His middle name is Mannon.)

Seeing Nexus leave for clearer air for his fuel cell seemed to strike a cord with the gentle-giant of a killing-machine that appeared as though he could easily knock Nexus's block off by shrugging at him in a confined space if he were just a tad less graceful. He stood up and excused himself without giving any reason in order to follow the robotic-envoy of the electronic-person.

Once outside, he saw what passed as "Nexus" leaning against the roof-post and generally conserving power. He picked one alongside Nexus.

"You do realize you just walked-out while Schwartz was telling the story on how we managed to get legal custody of Kayora; is something not right?"

---

Schwartz was meanwhile continuing the story, largely from his own point of view and so completely missed Kayora adjusting to her first days outside of a VR-world and instead focused on how they managed to sneak past an ever-tightening security-cordon without knowing the whereabouts of the rest of their team-mates, until they finally met aboard a submarine where they were brought to a frigate a heli-lifted to Kayora's holding-facility just as its AI went skynet on her and tried using her as a meat-puppet after killing nearly everyone inside... Not to mention, hardly anyone else was allowed to know the mission even happened... so they were "it" in terms of her rescue.

---

Crompton didn't really have any additional points to make, and it was like watching a wall calling the wall next to it 'plastered', and so decided to put further discussion on indefinite hold, "It seems we are stepping on each others toes in this argument, when we all came here to not be bothered, but instead find ourselves bickering over how one should announce themselves upon entering. If this observation is correct, then I see no point in dragging-out the matter further. We are here, you are there. If we need to physically draw a line down the barracks then so be it."

[Patrick OConner]

Smith is now getting passed annoyed and approaching angry. He grunts and looks back up at the snake girls, his beloved gun only half reassembled. A part is in one hand and a bottle gun oil in the other.
"New to Atlas yes. New to war...no. Seen some action in my time." Which was a bit of an understatement. He had seen a lot of action over the years both white and black racking up kills all along the way. From dust ups in the deserts of countries far tot he Civil War and The Rebellion. Smith had been either training or on missions (mostly missions) his whole military career
"You did not answer my question. Do you want me to leave?" Smith was thinking about it anyway. In room shared like this he could not secure it properly, that is to say booby trap the hell out of it. He was not alone in this, all of the Force Recon operators would do this, as a sort of pseudo competition among themselves with the added benefit of keeping people out of their stuff. Currently Overhill was in the lead.

---

Overhill is scrolling through the update. As CO of Force Recon he is allowed access to a lot of interesting stuff. Overhill had now reached the section on how the nations secret military projects were proceeding.
Project Achillies has suffered another set back..again. Project Re is moving along faster than expected. Overhill pick up his drink and takes another sip of his drink and he scrolls through the rest and he stops and spits out some of his drink in shock. He stares at the screen for a minute before getting up and walking over to Llyod. He grabs him by the collar of his shirt and yanks him off his bar stool and then drags him outside and behind the bar. Llyod Protest the entire time of course until Overhill tosses him on the ground.
"What was that for?"
"This." Overhill shoves the tablet under his knows and points at the report on it. It states that Project Q is active and has develop to point designated SW.
"Why was I not informed sooner? I though Q was rendered inactive after the Skynet simulation results."
"It was but Project S was finished and it results were used. Everything has turned out well. Shelly is actually very nice."
"Shelly?"
"Yeah that is her name"
"Jesus Christ."
"Do not worry the usual precautions have been taken but the likelihood of any issue developing is nil. I should know i have been working very closely with her."
"Shit... okay fine. But next time something like this comes up I want to hear it from you and not read about it. Clear?"
"Clear sir."
"All right. then" Overhill turns around heads back inside followed by Llyod and both resume thier seats as if nothing happened.

[Monfrox]

"I highly suggest that you find another place to stay. There are, in fact, dozens of other barracks on this base so you choosing this one seems rather odd. Not to mention we're expecting five others to bunk here with us. So if you think that just rooming with us two is bad enough, then you may want to leave now. Might I further suggest bunking with your own nation's people? That seems to make a lot more sense."

Phsyosia was getting tired to trying to be nice and polite. Crompton seemed to think he was completely in the right no matter what, and was evident that he wanted to stay. For whatever reason he wanted to, Physosia and Nixthise didn't like the arrangements. They were, in essence, one of Monfrox's newest kind of weapons, and they guarded themselves against others who wanted to see what made them tick.

[The Central Shadow Nation]

The MV-22 Osprey landed on the pad,Nickel getting out. Ducking from the gusts of warm wind coming from the VTOL's rotors,he made his way to the front,one pilot getting his attention. Nickel appeared to be bitching to the pilot,who gestured to the building. Both arms shoving towards. Nickel,annoyed,scuttled off as the Shadownian VTOL left him there for now.

Nickel hustled towards the bar,gently opening the door as he entered. Here he was supposed to get with his will be team and enjoy some beers. The operator looked up at the bars food menu. "Scotch,"He grunted,still looking up at the menu. Chips and salsa,nachos,but Edme went with a salad. It was,in a way,strange how Nickel didnt walk around,witness the other operators not currently in mission. He received the glass of scotch,before nudging the glass back down. "Your best Vodka,"Nickel said,slipping over a tip. Shadownians were big on Vodka,that being their national dish. Nickel decided it was best not to try socializing here.

[Patrick OConner]

Smith grunts and finishes reassembling his rifle.
"Okay then I will go and notify the rest of the team."
Smith places his prized rifle into its case and collects the rest of his stuff and leaves. He moves to the empty quarters next door and marks them out for Force Recon. He pulls out his WristComp and sends a message to the rest of the team. He puts it away and selects another rifle and removes it and dissembles it and starts cleaning it.
"People are so hard and complicated" he says out loud to no one in particular.

---

Freeman finishes hus drink and looks arounf and spots an elevated area that might pass for a stage on a good night. He smiles and gets up.
"You going to play Heavy?" Overhill asks from his stool.
"Thought I would"
"Great" Overhill smiles.
Freeman was to his quarters and notices that Smith has moved next door. He moves too and while at it moves the rest of the teams stuff. He cocks an eyebrow at Smith
"They wanted us to move."
"Ah" Freeman says and retrieves a guitar, cord and amp. He walks back to the bar steps up on the stage and set it up. He warms up first then plays this https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-xK1rNjQEPY followed by https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKedDZ133g8 and then https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6lrRguRLEo0 and then https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ONtZO_adp4.
Overhill, sitting at the bar smiles and drinks some more.
"Heavy Metal is right"

[Military Democracy of Birtonia]

Knight-Paladin John Juliani

John returned from the bar's latrine and noticed his bottle was empty. More than likely another soldier took advantage of it, which he didn't blame them for, he would've done the same thing. He put down a few shivaltiers on the bar and ordered another bottle. He decided this time he would hold on to both the bottle and his glass. He took a swig, another fine bottle of Oganized States sour mash whiskey. He moved to another group of operators and loudly announced his presence to their circle by asking where everyone was from.

[Greater Soviet Ukraine]

Mikhail takes another shot and places it down.

"Have any of you heard about how our comrades are doing over in Union City?"

Alexsander nodded. "Apparently Igor was shot in the knee. Minor injury, apparently. Hopefully he won't walk with a limp."

Mikhail grunted. "Boy, I've seen plenty of people shot in the knee. He's going to walk with a limp. Poor guy, too. He was barely five months in the squad."

Boris stood up. "I got to use iit"

He stumbled across the bar, noticing a man appear from the other side of the room. "My ticket." He muttered with a drunk smile, and walks toward it.

Back at the Ukrainian table, the team had finished their drinks. "I'll get another round." Leonid said before Mikhail could get up. He walked up to the bartender, and placed down a ruble. "Same as last time." The bartender slid towards him a fresh bottle of Khortytsa platinum. He took it to the table and placed in the middle.

"So, what about the rest of the squad?" Leonid asked.

"Apparently several of the squads got some causalities , mostly from zombies. I think one helicopter was shot down." Stanislav, leaning in the back of his chair, replied.

"What? Everyone over there is dead or a zombie."

"You didn't know?" Stanislav leans close. "Apparently, there's been reports of armed men in the city. Heavily armed, good deal of training, only the types you see in a military. They were the guys that shot Igor in the leg."

"What? They didn't tell us that!"

"I don't think many people were supposed to know. Anyway, last time the guys at headquarters checked in, they told us that they were almost finished. Anyone in there is going to vaporized."

Mikhail settled back with a harrumph. "Any team that can't even tell us who we're shooting is a team I don't want to be in."

Ruslan leaned back in his chair. "They'll be fine, you cynical old drunk."

Loud rock music blared from the stage as some fool started playing a guitar loudly. Mikhail just covered his ear with earplug and continued sipping his glass.