Grey Citadel (Group Story Revised)

Chainer

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Here are all the previous posts. Read it and come up with some new intresting material. Here is the order again to avoid confusion.
1) stigmata
2) Sprafa
3) Draklyne
4) Chainer
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The Grey Citadel

By: Draklyne

It was grey, grey and dull, but mostly grey.

Sprawling leisurely over a matter of nearly a century, they city had grown jaded with itself, with its past, and with its colorful flavor. So it left it all behind, and became simply grey.

It was in this grey city that Hunter Mark-Simmons donned his uniform and enforcement accoutrements. It was in this grey city that Hunter Mark-Simmons would head out on patrol, looking for rabble and whoever else might cause trouble. It was in this grey city that Hunter Mark-Simmons would carry out, faithfully, any order given him.

So, when he spotted four unauthorized and armed citizens on his beat, he immediately contacted his superior officer for orders.

"Number 04391 reporting on the locations of four..."

It was also in this grey city that Hunter Mark-Simmons, Combine Soldier number 04391, gained his name.

By: Top Secret

"... civilians, waiting for orders."

"Roger that 04391, execute standard capture and retrieve procedure."

The Combine slipped a fresh clip into his SMG and cocked the gun in one smooth motion. He stood there on the corner under the shade of the tree. The Combine clicked on his short range radio

"Roger"

He started down the street, following the scurrying civilians. They didn't seem to notice him and appeared to be checking out the wrecked cars down the street. He could see them, not more than 50 meters away. He remembered training, saying the regulations over and over again inside of his helmet.

"When dealing with alien combatants, observe before any action is taken."

He didn't notice anything strange, nothing un-expected or out of the ordinary, so he moved closer. He stood behind a silver wreckage that read "Civic" on back. The civilians finished their sweep and started to head back. They were walking right for him. Two of them pulled out guns. One looked like a stolen Combine SMG and the other like a 9mm pistol of some sort. The Combine opened the trunk of the car and slipped in, leaving a 3cm gap in the trunk lid. He could hear the civilians talking as they got closer.

"I can't believe we actually found it in Dr. Mason's car."
"Yeah, this will really help out the resistance."
"Both of you, shut up, you never know who's listening."

The civilians were meters away from the front of the car, and started to walk up to it. The Combine could feel one of them leaning against the car, so he didn't let a breath escape him. He watched two of the civilians walk away from the rear of the car and walked down the road. The other two passed not three meters behind. He slipped his finger down the side of the gun until he felt the safety switch. He flipped off the safety and put the gun in single shot mode.

He lifted the trunk and sat up, raising his SMG. He aimed at the back of the first civilian with the SMG not more than 5 meters away and let a round loose right into his back. Before the others could even react he put a round into the man with the gun, catching the top of his head. The other two laid down as he moved forward. He fallowed procedure and eliminated those who posed a threat, and captured those who did not. He checked the dead bodies and secured their weapons. He noticed a CD, a human data storage device, handing out of one of the civilians pockets.

He thought that might be of use and secured it in his pocket.


By: Chainer

Caymon took his position in an old apartment complex across the street from the pickup site. He gazed through the scope of his silenced M-16, the street below was desolate. Buildings lay in ruin, the burnt wreckages of vehicles lay scattered about the street.

“Well at least there is good cover if they need it.” He muttered scanning the street from left to right.

He shifted his gaze as he saw movement in the ally next to a half collapsed supermarket. His men were moving into position to search the area. According to Commander Rigg this was a ‘low profile’ mission so minimal firepower was needed.

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Sean glanced around the corner of the crumbling building. The street was clear, and their target was in site; Dr. Mason’s Civic set not but 15 meters away riddled with bullet holes. The passenger window was broken and Sean hoped there objective was not already gone.

He clicked the safety off as he crept around the corner. Glancing upward he spotted Caymon in an upper window.

“Ok people lets get this done with.”

He slowly moved forward motioning the others to follow. The sound of broken glass crunching under their feet echoed as they cautiously crossed the street toward the vehicle.

A noise to his left made Sean turn quickly toward the right; Pigeons flew from behind a turned van. Sean held his breath as they neared the vehicle.

“Set a perimeter.” Sean whispered.

He motioned the others to spread out. Using hand gestures he signaled Jay to approach the car.

Jay slowly moved forward and peered in through the broken window. A glint from the passenger floorboard caught his eye. As Jay leaned in to retrieve the CD from under the seat he drew in his breath. He was seconds away from getting away from this hell hole and going back to camp. His fingered brushed the case as he leaned in further. Cursing under his breath Jay grasped the case. Retracting from the car relief flooded over him.


“Objective acquired, move out.” Sean commanded.

Jay turned and walked back to the group. As they gathered and began to leave a noise rang out through the empty streets.

Sean’s chest exploded showering blood all over the left side of Jay's body. Before he could even gag Brian fell to the street. The remains of his skull splashed across the pavement. Jay knew this routine, these were Combine capture tactics. Eliminate the threat and capture any that remain. Jay fell to the ground face down, the CD clattering to the street.
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It was supposed to be another search and salvage mission. That was until the Combine showed up. After retrieving the objective Caymon watched as Jay paced back to regroup with the others, seconds later Sean and Brian lay dead on the ground. Caymon struggled to see where their assailant had come from.

Looking back to the car he saw the Combine soldier approach Jay and Carlos who were now laying facedown on the ground. Caymon know the Combine soldier wouldn’t harm them, the threat had already been eliminated. Now he was looking for captives. Caymon waited for a clean shot. The soldier walked toward Jay and Carlos picking up the weapons now laying on the ground. Caymon disdainfully watched as the soldier picked up the CD case. A buzzing noise drew Caymon’s attention to the sky.

A Scanner hovered past the window Caymon was peering through.

“Shit.” Caymon said as he let loose six rounds.

The first two shots missed but the last four hit home. The Scanner exploded in a shower of flame. Caymon ducked into the window as shrapnel riddled holes in the walls. Caymon got to his feet rushing back to the window. As he approached the sill shots rang out from below. Caymon hit the ground again as bullets flew through the open window.

“Damn!” He yelled as he pulled a radio from his belt. There was slight static as he pressed the talk button.

“This is Lambda 2, repeat this is Lambda 2. I am under Combine fire, Scanners have been spotted and more Combine are incoming. Project junkyard is a failure. Retreating to safe position.” The radio hissed out as more bullets penetrated the wall.

Caymon thought back to his captive friends, cursing as he sprinted back down the hall.
 
Here's assuming I post first.

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"Oh, God DAMN it!" yelled Rigg, throwing down his headset. He turned on his worn-out swivel chair to the communications liaison opposite him. "What the hell happened? I was under the impression that the Combine weren't sweeping the area until 1800 hours?"

The comm liaison, Jackson, looked utterly confused. There was absolutely nothing in the mission briefing that had prepared the runners for an enemy presence. The mission intelligence had supposedly been tapped from a high-level Combine military source, so there was no reason to believe that any enemy forces would have had a reason to show up.

A breath escaped his mouth, and Jackson replied, "It looks like the Combine might have tapped into our communications." He paused. "Although, you'd think they would send more than one soldier, considering how important that MCD was."

Hands behind his head, Rigg stretched his arms to keep himself from lashing out on the equipment. He'd needed a vacation for months now, but he doubted there were any vacation spots left in the world. Rumor had it that the Combine had drained nearly the entire planet of all resources, leaving little for the native lifeforms. Only the oceans remained, devoid of life other than that of the Xen forms. What a vacation that would be. He felt a little better. He sighed heavily. "Okay, Jackson, I need a status update on the Lambda team."

Jackson turned back to his console, and tapped the right earpiece of his scavenged headset. "Sorry for the delay, Lambda 2. I copy your transmission, what's your team status?"

The line hissed silence. The line encryption program was running slowly. The modified radio Lambda 2 was carrying had a tough time with the software, unable to support more than a 300 megahertz processor. Then, a crackle of static came through, and Jackson could hear heavy footsteps, and deep breathing. "I- I'm not completely sure, but it looked like Lambdas one, three and four are KIA, Lambda five has probably been taken into custody. The disk is --" The transmission cut off for a short time. "Sounds like a Combine APC is on its way, maybe a Gunship too. I'm not sure."

"Roger, Lambda 2. However, mission outline dictates that the mission cannot be deemed a failure until the disk has been recovered by either side. We both know that we need to get that data disk by any means necessary. I'm sending reinforcements, they should be armed heavily. We can't give up this mission without a fight."

"Roger that, Jackson. Continuing to my safe position, should be back to base by 1600 hours."

"Good luck, Lambda 2. Over and out."
Jackson reached forward, and switched the line. "Yahn, you copy that? We need six men to grid one-five-three-by-five-oh-nine, all heavily armed. Prepare for enemy artillery, and make sure you get that disk for Kleiner."

This time, the response came immediately. "Yeah, I copy you Jackson. I've only got three men with me, so you'll have to contact Carson's force, they're nearest the objective. We'll be there in five. Over and out."

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Hunter Mark-Simmons wiped the blood from his mask as he walked toward the two survivors. He reopened communications to C17 High Command. "Capture and retrieve procedure complete. Two survivors, objective intact. Recommended course of action?"

"Recommend interrogation on-scene, enemy reinforcements expected."

Good
, he thought. He always found a primitive satisfaction from interrogation. Training taught him that his base instincts caused trouble with his suit's cerebral taps, which were used for all electronic operations, but nothing ever happened. In fact, it also resurfaced old memories. Memories he thought were lost forever...

He stopped mid-step, and invisible to the enemies, Hunter Mark-Simmons' eyes glazed over...

He was walking down a narrow European street. The city seemed to have an unnatural haze about it, obstructing and blurring his view. It was getting late, though as he looked up, he noted that the sun was still bright. Well, at least it would keep the-- What the Hell...? He quickly looked up again. What he saw was not a burning ball of gases, millions of miles in the distance. It was a large electric-looking ball of... something. Lightning shot out in all directions, and a particularly large bolt managed to destroy the area directly beneath the ball. All of a sudden, there was a bright flash, like that from a nuclear explosion, and he could feel his retinas burning in pain. When he reopened his eyes, a large superimposed image of some sort of tower was burned into his retinas. He hoped it was temporary. But it didn't seem to fade. As he concentrated on the towering image, a blurry form jogged towards him.

The form yelled, in a warbling voice, "Get on the ground, hands behind your head!"

He stopped, confused. Why was he under arrest? It was now too late to ponder. The dark form was mere meters away, and yelled "I am now authorized to use force! Get down!"

As he got to his knees, he found that he hadn't moved fast enough for the form's liking. Stun rounds lashed from what looked like its hands...

"04391, enemies detected, destination deemed your current position. Recommend capture and removal operation."

Hunter Mark-Simmons collapsed, unconcious.

"04391, respond!"
 
“04391, respond immediately!”
They were taking him. To the Great Tower. To the Creator.
“04391, we are detecting unusual Alpha brain waves. If you do not respond in 3 seconds, we will start emergency procedure.”
He was inside. The dark outpost was filled with humans, not just humans anymore. They were being changed. And he was the next in line.
“3…”
He remembered a voice. “Mr. Simmons? What we’re about will hurt Mr. Simmons, I can assure you that. But you can’t omelets without breaking eggs right Mr. Simmons? Well, just hold on, it’s a bumpy ride.” And then, pain. Immeasurable & destructive pain.
“2…”
In a few seconds, it ended. His mind was clear. “You see now, Mr. Simmons, you’re perfect. Absolutely perfect. Another masterpiece. Serial number 04391, are you ready to kill & die for the Great cause?“ He had no doubt in his mind. “Of course, Sir.”
“1…”
It was clear now. He was once human.
But now it was too late. His exo-armor spoke to him.
“Emergency procedure beginning.”
Electricity flowed on his veins, transmitted by his exo-armor. A large amount of methamphetamine was carefully administrated by intravenous vases.
“04391, this is outpost 05. Report.”
“Database corrupted. Emergency procedures are stabilizing subject. Requesting mission abort. Objectives are unclear due to database corruption.”
“Resume the operation. Retrieve the data storage immediately. You will be repaired later. We are re-transmitting all mission data.”
“Roger. Transmission received. 04391 resuming operations.”
He walked to the late humans in directly ahead of him. They had not survived the injuries. He saw a blank in the thermals and swept one of the corpses. He turned up with a data disk.
“Outpost, I’ve found a data storage device in possession of one of my attackers. Returning to base for analysis.”
“Affirmative, 04391.”
After his comm. With the base, Hunter Mark-Simmons saw a gun pointing him out of a window from a side building. More Resistance.

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Rigg looked out the window again. The Combine had collapsed. He had never seen a Combine collapse. They were always systematic in what they did, never leaving nothing behind, shooting in the down ones just to make sure they’re dead, blowing up entire buildings just because they heard something in there. They were ruthless and unwilling. They did what they had to do. And collapsing down to the floor wasn’t a regular Combine order.
“Maybe his suit malfunctioned. We can get the disk!”
“Shut up. This is a trick; I know it is, they want us to get out…”
His fears were quickly confirmed. The Combine shook and got up. He stared at the corpses from his friends and removed the data disk from one of their pockets.
“Shit, he got it.”
“What will we do Sir?”
“Let’s take him down.”
Rigg pulled his MP7, pointed at the Combine and pulled the trigger. 5 projectiles left the weapon headed to the Combine. All but one hit the torso, and the Combine fell to the ground.
“We’ve got him. Bauer, go there and retrieve the disk.”

With that data, they were going to turn the tide against the Combine.
 
"Exo-armor serial code 04391...Exo-armor serial code 04391...Logic circuits corru- Database corrup- sensory...data...dat...da...d...______"

"Fatal malfunction in core operating system...Emotional Control Unit disabled...Artificial Intelligence Core disabled...Communications Filament subsystem disabled...errors in memory subsystems 08a00077638 through 12b00099285..."

"Redirecting resources to repairing Communications Core...COMMUNICATIONS WITH GREY CITADEL MUST BE REESTABLISHED AT ALL COSTS..."

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Hunter Mark-Simmons floated on the top of a synesthesia of senses, sights blending into sounds blending into smells blending into memory, and more indescribable sensations. His head felt strange, expanded and empty at the same time, lacking something...a guiding voice or a tyrant, he wasn't sure which. As he floated, he fought to recall small things, like the color of the sky. Suddenly he was sure of one thing.

My name is Simmons. Hunter Mark-Simmons.

And then another revelation came to him.

I was...I am...human.

He remembered something else. The coffee he'd had before being captured. The familiar tabby who had come by that morning. Then more and more memories flooded through him, his wife's face as the already converted Combine tore her from their daughter, his daughter's desperate screams, his shame at being unable to protect his family, his own utter terror in the face of the emotionless Combine...

Each memory that came rushing back punched through him like bullets. Even though he could see them, Hunter Mark-Simmons was unaware that the Resistance men had gathered around him, unable to see past the image of his wife, Processed, coldly shooting their daughter in the temple for causing disturbance.

And he hadn't cared.

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"Shit, sir," Bauer spoke, awed. "It's...he's crying. I've never seen that before."
"Don't worry about it Bauer," Rigg bluffed, nervy at the strangeness surrounding the mission. "Just shoot him in the head and put it out of its misery."
"Sir, he's not dead. I think this is a chance for us to-"
"Shut up and shoot him Bauer."
Bauer flicked on the radio as he addressed his superior. "Sir! With respect, a Combine soldier who has been incapacitated and has not been terminated by their exo-armor has never been heard of or-"
"That was an order, man. Now I'm going to shoot him myself, and then I might just shoot you for insubordination."

A crackle broke through the radio silence, and an aging man spoke over the encrpyted frequency. His voice was soft, but strength like a bar of steel projected through it.

"Negative Squad Leader, you will not terminate that Combine."
"Sir, I believe it is a ruse on the Combine's part."
"Regardless, I am willing to take that risk to interrogate it. Him. Reinforcements are on the way with a stretcher. If it returns with a dead body on it, your station is forfeit."

Another crackle signalled the end of the transmission.

Rigg ground his teeth and...

Another transmission came in, from the same man.

"You may do as you like with Bauer, however."

Rigg sighed, and glanced over to a poker-faced Bauer, who insolently flicked his radio to the off position. He spat.

"Damn you and your tricks, Bauer. This trick's going to kill us though. I feel it in my bones."

With that, he spat again, this time at the feet of the Combine soldier, and strolled to a half-broken bench, where he sat down and stared at the fallen man.
 
After his close encounter with the Combine and his hasty retreat back to base Caymon was exhausted. All he wanted to do was get some rest. With his M-16 slung over his shoulder Caymon approached the entrance.

“Sir,” Jonathan Muler came to attention and addressed his commanding officer.

“Any news from Rigg’s team?” Caymon said as he strode past Muler.

“Yes sir, there was just some news on the radio. Rigg’s team wounded and then captured the Combine soldier.”

Caymon stopped in his tracks. “Captured?!” He was astounded by this act. No one had ever successfully brought a live Combine soldier into custody. He gripped the desert eagle at his waist. “What is their ETA?”

“They are on their way back as we speak. ETA; two hours.” Muler had turned to face Caymon.

“Why so long?” Caymon stopped to wait for a response; he listened to the sound of the water drip from the ceiling.

“They had to wait for med-vac for the Combine.” Muler turned and resumed his duty.

“They murder us to no end and yet someone finds it necessary to show them mercy,” Caymon murmured as he paced down the dark tunnel. The rage caused by the loss of his team still scorching his insides. Something didn't feel right, when Rigg's team returned with the Combine he would be ready for anything.
 
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