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Victory square; where the population is galvanized; and enemies of the state go to hang. A large intersection in the center of Caprica City, Aschen military displays, public executions, two minutes hate rituals, and speeches from the Emperor are hosted here.
Telescreens showing Big Brother's ever-present visage adorn Victory Square when not in use.
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Two hulking power armored figures emerged from the back of the van, chambering massive twenty-millimeter slugs into their heavy magnetron rifles.
Their black, opaque, faceless visors obscured everything, but two red glowing eyes, their armor too, was a deep black.
Their footfalls could be heard clearly as they started to approach, as two purple robed, and hooded individuals emerged behind the two towering Adepts of War.
They began to approach Andreas, and Joseph.
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As if on cue, the Adepts of War showed up to drag away this very agile and dangerous xeno. "And there they are now. I wouldn't try pulling any of your gadgets if I were you," he said through gritted teeth as a warning to the Adepts about Joseph's hidden arsenal, keeping his disruptor rifle warmed up and ready. He was ready for another chase, but a firefight in Victory Square where tons of innocents could get hurt was not something he wanted to picture, let alone experience.
In one swift move, he reached out, his hands wrapping around the SMG with enough force to crush it into bits of twisted metal, the second hand moving with inhuman force, and speed to attempt to grab Joseph around the torso, and sweep him up off the ground.
"Your life is forfeit." The Adept grunted.
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"His actions merit a fate worse than death." The Confessor said, nodding affirmatively.
"Transport him to the bio-scholars, have him re-educated."
The Adept nodded, and with an almost inhuman ease, he began to pull Joseph towards the unmarked black van.
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"Gyro! Fresh Gyro! Two Dinar! Fresh Gyro!" He cried out, passing the warm meat, folded in pita bread, and topped with veggies to one of the crowd-goers.
"Souvenir cups! Fresh Gyro! Two Dinar!" He cried out again.
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The Confessor chuckled. "My, You're full of suprises."
The Adept grunted again, and with Joseph still in his grasp, moved to slam his head into the concrete, in an attempt to knock him out.
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Their activity turns frenetic as eigen manifolds open to interface her sensors with her intuition as some of the stiffer minds using tools instead of native power fled. Someone would, is, and did vomit on her ship deck though the whole of the situation she deprioritized. Networks of potential and actual data linked between computational models integrated with a more holistic view of time independent of now and later. A deeper understanding born of organic and very human brains scattered around the inside of her frame and her avatar itself. The minds that remain seem alert but with directed attention that follows thread folding clearly had an idea of what was going on.
They passed information out of her core manifold about the potentialities as she copied then handed the request off to subsystems for linear render. Executive duly engaged with this particular task Sukarma took in what was happening as threads cut and pruned deciding what she was going to do in the seconds a hand moved to his pocket. The stream of time resumed as she rejoined linear flow. The man wasn't likely to pull the pin as medical data plus the look in his eye told her he might decide against it. Sukarma stood up anyway and started walking closer just in case.
The Adept neutralized that situation anyway as she raised a hand to organize a FE shear plane of the ring from the grenade pin. The interconnected frame's eigenvector tethers jiggle to evade the other minds staring at the whole but she had to move one out of the way. At her distance couldn't shear much but a small pin wasn't that thick so the field-effect tool had to be efficient. Then they smashed the xeno's head into the ground and he went out like a light. Sukarma winced as that looked like it hurt.
A few soft mag-clamps clicked off as Sukarma's blue backpack flipped around to her hand at the front. A step or two to the side having repurposed the shear plane into a matter translation. It was a bit strong for that. There was a white symbol of an Ashen healing diety on it. Her support pack got a few upgrades lately from what she could get personal licenses for. The bureaucracy didn't take well to the ship and the user being the same thing on forms. There was a lot for her to read and understand and if she wanted to be able to really use it she had to actually learn it. Unlike the AIs that gave the EI migraines when they moved too deep that just sucked in everything like little black holes. Rather short compared to most Ashen she approached slowly to look up at the Confessor and Adepts as her chromatic skin turned a watery green on blue.
Hair tentacles moved to switch out sensory apparatus as her conversational Antiquas is just slightly broken by Latin tensing, {Ad Victoriam. Do you want first aid for the Xeno, Confessor? The wounds may get infected there's no indication his immunology is as robust as Ashen.}