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Nyke Demopolous

Gorgon's Watch Marine Corp First Division: First Regiment, First Batallion. The FNG

0 · 549 views · located in The 'RIP'

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Ersatz Creed

Description

Image

Dossier:
Race: Aschen
Rank: Private First Class
Age: 24
Height: 5'5
Weight: 130lbs.
Hair: Blonde
Eyes: Blue.

So begins...

Nyke Demopolous's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Gorgon Infantry Corps Character Portrait: Nyke Demopolous Character Portrait: Maxwell Gilbert Character Portrait: Sgt. Harvey Gladstone Character Portrait: 1st Lt. Mason Harding
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A strange thing was happening in The Decline, the usually tomb-like streets had begun to seethe with life. A veritable sea of life had set up shop surrounding the ancient RIP building. Every street for miles was blocked off with concrete-alloy barricades, each alleyway, and off street had been converted to makeshift Ranges. Faitges as far as the eye could see.

Armored Jeeps with heavy EM turrets wove between groups of soldiers, while alleys flashed red with ceaseless laser fire. Fumes, and crisp, burnt target paper choked the air.

It was pure, absolute heaven to First Lieutenant Mason Harding.

The gruff Thirty-Nine year old Officer stood in his preferes spot, the direct middle of everything, barking orders left, right, and center. His booming baritone carried over even the loudest Jeep.

With absolute glee he whirled around, addressing soldier after soldier that had amassed around him. "Jenkins," he snarled, his voice carrying that distinct military tone. "I want Overwatch feed in the CT two hours ago, get it or I'm sending you in for Commando Live Fire!" He waved the man off vigorously.

"Sir, yes sir!"

Without hesitation he turned to the next man. "Karigg!" He snapped, sounding an awful lot like a displeased D.I. "Where the in all the countless hells are my grenade crates?"

"Sir, I don't know sir!"

Time seemed to freeze, every soldier went corpse-rigid, except the Lt.

"Ex-frickin'-cuse me, you bucked tooth little gnat?" He stabbed a heavy finger at the man. "We did not train, equip, and feed your dumb ass to know," saliva flew as his green eyes flashed with anger. "We invested in you, so that either you can bring me my goddamn grenade crates, I serve as target practice."

He stared the man down without mercy, drawing himself up to fill height, and glaring. Large, brutish looking, and an experienced warrior, The Lt. carried the weight most Officers didnt.

"Do I make myself clear?" He hissed.

"Sir, yes sir!

Harding nodded in approval. "Dismissed."

He was about to address another soldier, but someone beat him to the punch.

"HEY! WHICH ONE OF YOU RAT FUCKERS TOLD THE CREEPY BASTARDS AT THE HOSPITAL TO 'TAKE CARE OF ME BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY!'"

The entire street froze, three soldiers tripped, six rifles went off, and two Jeeps almost collided.

Every eye there defaulted to the Lt.


The man's stone-like face was slowly gripped by rage. An armored arm shot up, pushing two men aside with relative ease. A very pissed Harding stepped forward, striding until I was free of the crowd, and steps away from Maxwell.

The entire time his steely gaze was locked on the cyborg's face plate.

"The 'rat fucker' that told the hospital to save your increasingly worthless ass," He spoke cooly, not monotone, but pure contempt. "Is me, and by me," He stood at attention, his COBRA Var1 hanging at his side elegantly. "I mean the man you are to address as Sir, or Your One True Savior.

He looked the man up, and down intently, he sure looked like he could get the job done. Still, Harding wasn't sure how integrating one of the usually narcissistic Commandos was going to work. Only one way to find out.

Bristling as he spoke, he never wavered his gaze.

"As of 0200 tho morning, The GWPS Squad, Nightviper, was officially wiped out. A critically injured you was all that was recovered." He sneered a little. "A few G.I Generals throught, for a reason beyond me, that you might be useful to us in the field."

The troops around him whispered, most excited at the thought of working with a Commando.

"So, and news son, you've been drafted." Lt. Harding nodded somewhat earnestly. "You are now the entire Infantry Corps of Engineers. If anything in my army breaks, Private Gilbert, it is your ass my boot shall seek. Welcome aboard." With that he turned back to the men around him.

He issued a few more orders before motioning towards Pvt. Gilbert. Once the soldiers around him dispersed, he turned around rather gracefully, and began to take off. He assumed the Engineer for the order to follow, assuming so, he addressed him.

"Welcome to First Battalion," grunted Harding. "You'll be with me, and a few other semi-competent soldiers in Knight Squad." He side stepped an oncoming Jeep. "We'll be leading Platoon A in this shit show." He turned left into the main street, it was even more crowded.

Range instructors, and makeshift ranges were everywhere. Shouts, and live fire consumed the sound scape. Harding had to tell just to be heard.

"My condolences about your squad, by the way," This time a hard right, it emptied into a large alley. At the dead end in the back sat a large, ratty canvas tent.

Harding jerked a finger towards it. "Welcome to HQ," he said rather flatly. "The rest of Knight, along with the other teams are in there, prepping." He pivoted to face the Private.

"Go meet your new family, Tinman."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Gorgon Infantry Corps Character Portrait: Nyke Demopolous Character Portrait: Maxwell Gilbert Character Portrait: Sgt. Harvey Gladstone Character Portrait: 1st Lt. Mason Harding
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Gilbert saluted his superior as nonetheless he was obedient. The lack of a certain sound had made him a little hasty. He followed quietly in a more respectful tone started a short debriefing, "It won't happen again, Sir. Thank you, Sir. Survived is a strong word, Sir, they said I'm 'of Jinhai' now. Glad to be back to serve the corps; I'll hold everything together."

Listening to the periodic debriefing he eyed the soldiers around him looking on as the suit hud curiously marked them all as friendlies categorized 'Humankind'. Same thing the Jinhai called him at first on the slab. The suits normally didn't have this kind of ops package it was analyzing everything at once and he found it hard to keep up. Lines were popping up with firing solutions as soldiers fired and there was something that struck him as stiff and inadequate the way he turned his head to look at them. Some part of it already started collecting facial data on people behind him he wasn't looking at. Ones in earshot he did look at a moment too long a transcribed conversation window started to appear. First order of business was paring down this UI how the hell was he supposed to pay attention to everything? Assuming he could find the controls. Now suit processing busily tried to connect to ops like it had no sense of non-combat.

Gilbert had a powerful need to remove his helmet and hands went up to do so but stopped short as harding offered condolences, "I'll miss the squad sir but I'm glad to be back home."

When he pointed out the tent Gilbert looked on and saluted, "Sir, Yes Sir! I should report that i'm reasonably sure I'm not a cyborg but I don't know what they've done exactly. I don't have any breathing as far as I can tell but it definitely wasn't the hospital that put me together. Some meat locker underneath it with hundreds of half-built civvies and dusty humanoids in black. They brought finished ones back to life somehow but I didn't see the package or any of my squad before they put me under if there are bodies missing. Suit hud medical is completely non-standard where the only thing I recognize is bone integrity which makes no sense with everything else missing. My minigun has some stats and strange tech installed but operable. Along with a high ammo rebuild it estimates 20 liters of nanites available. It'll take a some downtime to investigate. Not sure what the rest of me is made of since that's roughly 30 liters too low. Minigun does suppressive fire with the quickness now though but I need to identify its added functions."

He would wait a moment to see if the Lt had anything for him in reply then head into the tent.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Gorgon Infantry Corps Character Portrait: Nyke Demopolous Character Portrait: Maxwell Gilbert Character Portrait: Sgt. Harvey Gladstone Character Portrait: 1st Lt. Mason Harding
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The respectful tone was a pleasant surprise, and with each "Sir!" The Officer relaxed a little. He was quite happy to snap a salute in return. The whole concept of taking an elite, multi-million dollar GWPS Commando, and busting him down to a Private of the Corps was trying. To put it kindly, Harding had been a little high string about it.

Mostly because he desperately needed a few thousand engineers, but partly because he half expected the Commando to shoot him on site.

When the Ferro-Soldier mentioned being home, he smiled, a very rare thing indeed. That line alone told him all he needed to know. He was about to say something when Gilbert started to debrief. He listened intently, making mental notes of all keywords. His eyebrow peaked at the mention of an underground lab, and his heart fell a little at the word "Jinhai."

"Shit on a Gods-damned stick," he grunted, his hands balling into fists. He had limited experience with them, and he wasn't a fan. Plus the thought of a Jinhai "Medical Facility" operating underground on Terra was a real pisser. One they'd have to sort out soon. Still, he kept his mouth shut as Gilbert spoke.

He hadn't been told anything about Nightvipers mission, so it was a bit intriguing. When the Cyborg-thing finished he nodded. It was a lot to take in, and the wheels of his mind were already turning, trying to figure out how to beat utilize the new addition. There just wasn't enough time now, too many things to do, in too many places.

"Thanks for the debrief, Private," he gestured to the CT again. "When you get inside look for Sgt. Gladestone. He's medical for Knight, son. He'll take a look at you, set you straight." Harding turned on his heels, and began to stride back into the fray. He turned back for a second, tapping his watch at Golbert. "Mingle quick, I'll be back in thirty, because we'll be guns hot in thirty-one, soldier." With that he left.


The Command Tent was a rather shabby thing. A simple, oversized green canvas structure at the end of a dark alley. It was generic military start to finish, and it even still had that new tent smell. It contained a few cheap aluminum benches, a bunch of folding tables, and a good twenty people jockeying around like mad.

The back wall was lined with a floor to ceiling holo-screen, serving as a nervous-center for on-scene Intel, and Command. It covered as many bases as it could. The middle was dedicated to a full 3D layout, and grid of The RIP. Windowed sections on either side displayed hypothetical assault progression, live feed from all four Overwatch Snipers, and complete vitals of every soldier deployed.

To help process, and sort this each side-wall of the tent was lined with folding tables, an analyst assigned to each. They worked feverousishly in their dataslates, ignoring the world around them.

Somewhere in the fray each member of Knight was busy doing whatever they felt most useful. Chances are though, if Gilbert entered, every head would turn.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Gorgon Infantry Corps Character Portrait: Nyke Demopolous Character Portrait: Maxwell Gilbert Character Portrait: Sgt. Harvey Gladstone Character Portrait: 1st Lt. Mason Harding
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The yellow eyes nodded at the Lt from under the armored cowl with a salute, "I'll have my waders ready for hell with bells on, Sir."

When he got to the tent it sank in his height was off as he had to duck to get in the door. Not much, but just enough that he was taller than average. The commando engineers tended to pack exosuits over snakeskin armor to loft 15kg of gun and ammo not to mention pound through doors and other things. He might have run halfway here but exos weren't all that fast. His was now something integrated in between with more range of motion to the power assist. The slits his armor glowed yellow inside showing him in the dark one-handing by top handle a damned 35kg self-charging minigun marked with dusky blue. The design of the minigun looking Gorgon mostly by the recognizable parts it repeated for the multiple barrel system. Same with his armor. Some parts of both sported faint markings from his squad's possessions that'd been harvested to produce them. Who knew where the black robed bastards even got the designs from. A lot of Knight sitting here were in light fatigues by comparison.

He felt conspicuously overdressed.

If the noise stopped it was likely highlighted by his vitals monitor added to the ops board with a happy little death tone. At least until someone squelched it. The suit happily responded to control and analyst systems requests though its encryption keys were likely now dated if not marked for recall due to the mission that wiped the rest of his squad. he knew he'd be a bit of a giant database anomaly if the suit was dialing in at all. Gilbert just sighed inwardly and had the urge to try and remove his helmet again.

The armored face-plate looked at the closest sort not overly focused with something as the pinpricks of yellow let his voice through, "Private Gilbert reporting for duty. I heard you guys needed a stand up fusillade kind of engineer. Could you tell me where Sgt. Gladstone is?"