X-Men Mission: Exorcism Robotica - Part 2
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xp_logsTrask is showing off the now operational Sentinel factory to his sponsors from AIM when the Brotherhood crash the party.
“And this, gentlemen, this is where it all happens.” Bolivar Trask said with a satisfied smile, waving his arms towards the massive manufacturing unit in the centre of the building. In reality, the building was only a shell for it, with the rest of the facility merely tacked on offices and workstations. “The Master Mold is capable of generating a fully functional Sentinel every three days. That is twelve times as fast as the manufacturing of an F22, for instance. I should also remind you all that this is just a prototype for manufacturing the Mark 1 Sentinels. Within a few years, I intend to add at least 12-14 additional feet to the chassis and ten tons to the internal structure, which will allow us to significantly increase the overall payload and options to the weapon platform.”
“Very impressive, Dr. Trask.” Paul Rilker said, making notes into his tablet as he walked through the facility next to the diminutive man. Rilker, unlike most of AIM’s high ups was neither a scientist or an engineer, but he was the next best thing; a genius at logistics and project management, which is why he was often on the move, coordinating the wide array of subcontractors, inventors, and flat out lunatics that AIM had in their web of technology development.
“It is only a start. This is still largely the prototype that the Pentagon so kindly funded for us.” A scattering of chuckles rippled through the crowd. “With Mr. De Costa’s unique weaponry, we can realign our production to focus on flight and armor adding weight as opposed to ammunition or dedicated power sources. Along with the existing adaptive weapon mix, even the Mark 1 represents an impressive all situation profile as an offensive threat. Future generations will be faster, larger, and even more difficult to damage.” Trask again gestured to the Master Mold complex.
“Yes, these… weapons of Mr. De Costa. As you know, AIM is focused on science. Magic is… a variable.” Rilker said. No one on his team had been happy about Trask’s announcement regarding the new upgrades.
“A controllable one.” Trask said. Even De Costa had to admit the man had considerable charm. “Mr De Costa’s contributions work within our existing production structure. We produce the weapon projectors and ship them to his team in dozens. By the time he delivers them, all that is left is to slot them into the existing housings and connect them with the overall systems. The actual weapons are entirely controlled through our inhouse supply chain.”
Trask nodded to an assistant who produced a tablet. “The Brotherhood attacks on our previous two facilities were a setback for the DARPA aligned program, but they also generated a tremendous amount of data on the power profile of the terrorists and their overall threat level. De Costa’s weapons are a huge threat multipler for us against them, especially since the results are both uniformly destructive and unpredictable in application. For example, we tested one of his weapons against a tank, here.” He tapped a few buttons on the tablet and held it out. “In seconds, the blast rotted the tank.”
“Rotted? How do you rot steel?” Rilker said as he took the tablet. He watched as a modern M1 Abrams tank was hit with a purple beam and began to pulse with a glow. In seconds, holes started to appear and grow on the armor plating. In less than thirty seconds, it was reduced to a pile of corroded parts.
“I asked the same thing until I saw this.”
“Gentlemen, I can assure you that the unpredictability of the magic starts and ends within our infusement of the weapons.” De Costa stepped forward. He’d agreed to join the presentation to answer any questions, but also to indulge in his victory. His profits would be enormous and even if he lost the chance for a government connection, he knew that he had already gained a powerful ally in Trask, and AIM might prove to be an even greater one. The war with the Cartel; unexpected and inexplicable, had badly eroded his powerbase on the West Coast. The infusion of money would make it easy to reinforce the Maggia’s position and take the fight back to the Cartel’s home territory.
“The other advantage of Mr. De Costa’s weapons - the unpredictability - is actually a strength for us. Let us be frank. At some point, the Sentinels will be faced with the Avengers or a similar team composed of mixed mutants and enhanced humans. While people like Stark will focus on technological countermeasures, he’ll discover that there are none for a range of our weapons. No amount of Iron Men will be able to shield themselves from a… well, demonic based attack.” Trask pointed out. He knew that AIM had an issue with Stark Industries and Tony Stark specifically.
“I can’t argue against the attractiveness of the Sentinel platform. At just under three hundred million a unit, following a successful beta test, of course, we have close to a hundred orders already anticipated for the first two years. Although there are questions about using it to target non-mutant or superhuman targets.” Rilker said.
Trask shook his head. “No, we control the targeting on every unit we sell. Turning the Sentinels into a flying armored combat platform would not only draw too much attention, but it would open the floodgates to immediate countermeasures from every major military group on the planet. Focused solely on one range of targets, they can get around current Geneva restrictions regarding autonomous robotic warfare. Also, I designed the Sentinels to protect humanity. Not to give politicians another weapon to kill more people.”
“Of course.” Rilker said, already making a mental note to discuss the situation with his superiors. Considering the potential profit, Trask’s use once he’d reached the zenith of his design would be limited. “Now, the demonstration?”
“Yes, follow me.” He led through the facility and out into a wide open area. Six completed Sentinels stood in a line in front of them. The six robots were twenty foot in height, with a remarkably flexible internal structure covered in plates of purple coloured ablative armor. They fanned out to take the seats arranged for them as Trask took his spot behind a small podium.
“The Sentinel Mark 1 is designed to be the next generation in anti-mutant warfare. Each one carries eight tons of heavy armor with a modern anti-lazing ablative coating. Through a mix of back and foot mounted thrusters, the Sentinels are capable of limited flight. Each one also houses a complex scanning array, which includes radar, lidar and sonar capabilities as well as their custom designed mutant detection scanner. The scanner uses complex biometric readings combined with hundreds of thousands of mutant profiles to create matches. A second directional scanner is mounted in the chest, which provides a powerful spot light and can be used to sweep in multiple light ranges like infrared and ultraviolet.” Trask said, and on cue, all six ignited their thrusters, hovered in the air together.
“Now, the primary weapon system on the Sentinels is a reconfigurable blaster mechanism located in the hands. The unit can switch between multiple forms of energy, including non-lethal options, depending on the target. Located in the forearms are ejection ports for a number of items to catch and contain mutants, such as electrified netting, fire suppression systems, smoke, and other options. Encased in the shoulders and back are a mix of micro-missiles, drop charges and chaff systems.” Trask pointed out, as images of the systems were cycled through on the issued tablets. “Mr. De Costa’s weapons are housed as part of the blaster mechanism for now. Later versions will incorporate his upgrades into other internal systems to further upgrade their offensive capabilities.”
“Is there-” Rilker started, but paused as Trask’s head of security rushed out of the building. He had almost reached Trask when a massive explosion went up behind them. Everyone jumped out of the chairs, looking around as the ashen faced guard reached Trask.
“It’s the Brotherhood, sir. They’re… they’re here!”
“How did they- it doesn’t matter.” Trask shook his head. “Gentlemen, I’m afraid we’re under attack. Mr Rilker, please follow security. They will take you to our dropjet for evacuation. We will join you presently.” He sounded almost calm as Rilker departed with a pair of guards. Already, they could hear the sounds of weapon fire. “You can join him, Mr De Costa.”
“I’m curious to see what you have planned, Dr. Trask.”
“A live fire exercise. They might not be enough, but I’m curious to see just how effective my Mark 1’s will be against our unwelcome guests.“ He said with a tight smile as he scrolled through a series of commands in order to bring the Sentinels fully online.
***
“Dragoness, Senyaka and Phantazia in front. Use your bio-electricity to disrupt their automated defenses. Blob, Unus and Unuscione follow up, punch us a hole into the facility.” Erik the Red called over the comms, moving the Brotherhood in a tight, disciplined unit as soon as the teleported in. There were multiple layers of automatic turrets and armed guards, but they’d be through them in minutes.
“Something is happening.” Mystique said in his ear piece. She’d been inserted ten minutes before as an extra guard to scout the defenses. “I think they’re bringing the Sentinels online.”
“They weren’t supposed to be ready yet.” Erik the Red said, although half to himself.
“I am not concerned.” Magneto replied, taking his position leading the attack. “You and I will confront Trask directly. Mystique, continue the attack on the facility, but relay to the Brotherhood that Sentinels are likely inbound.” He wrapped Erik the Red in a magnetic hold and flew them both over the facility, easily diverting the odd shot taken at them. As they crossed the roof, the six Sentinels were in flight, arcing past them. Several turned, starting to follow them both as they landed near where De Costa and Trask stood.
“Ah, the man who would bring about a new Holocaust and the demon. Hard to distinguish between you.” Magneto said as they touched down. De Costa’s men had already drawn their weapons, augmented with De Costa’s demonic upgrades and the aura of his corruption abilities.
“So says the man that dreams of humans in bondage to mutants. I can’t say I care about your opinion.” Trask’s eyes were carefully tracing the three Sentinels that had turned back and were now streaking towards them.
“Enough to make a literal deal with a devil. I can respect the conviction, if nothing else.” Magneto replied, and at that moment, the skies opened up with a terrible fusillade of destruction. However, instead of striking the mutants, the blasts tore through De Costa and his men. Half died on impact from the blasts. The others, gravely wounded, tried to fire at the Sentinels, but the second barrage ripped apart the last of the defenders. De Costa took three blasts square in the chest and went over immediately. Trask took one look at the attack and ran. Magneto watched him coldly and raised his hand to pull the man back.
“-that… that is what you get for trusting computers.” A gravelly voice said from the smoke and carnage. An armored clawed hand reached up and grasped the side of the podium, using it to pull itself to its feet. His human form had been torn away by the Sentinel attack, and Olivier stood in his natural form; eight feet of black, red and bone-white exoskeleton, barbed and sharp.
“Ah, it looks like your intelligence was correct, Erik.” Magneto said to Erik the Red.
“Hell Lord. Who knew?”
“Yes, Hell Lord. And I’m going to enjoy having Magneto as my personal servant here on Earth.” He said, stepping forward and gesturing with his claws. “Your powers are nothing to me.”
“Are they not? You see, because I’m told that the old folktales I heard as a child contained a grain of truth. While there is no Baba Yaga in her chicken legged house or a dragon to crawl from his cave, I’m told that silver and cold iron still have power against your kind.” Magneto smiled at Olivier. “Did you know that both can be found in tiny amounts in every inch of dirt and every drop of water? And I, creature, am the Master of Magnetism. The very elemental forces are mine to command.”
With each word, the area around Magneto trembled, and a bright haze started to coalesce around him. “At least that creature Trask has the conviction of his misguided beliefs behind him. You would destroy my people for no other reason than money and power. A sad little demon indeed.” He outstretched his hand and the shining haze blasted forward like a wave. Almost imperceptibly to the human eye, it was composed of tiny arrowheads made from silver and meteoric iron he’d pulled from the surroundings, and it hit Olivier square in the chest.
“What!” Olivier choked out before a scream. The blast was as insubstantial as a breeze, and yet, his chest was torn open and his veins were on fire from the touch of the cursed metal. He whispered a magic field into existence for protection, but the particles inside were clouded around his face and head, lacerating him. A magnetic wave blasted him off his feet and sent him crawling.
“How did you do this?” He hissed, before being flayed again by the terrible bolt, black ichor pooling on the ground beneath him.
“Determination and will, demon. The reason your kind will always lose-” Magneto said as he stepped forward. “At the hands of mine.”
“And this, gentlemen, this is where it all happens.” Bolivar Trask said with a satisfied smile, waving his arms towards the massive manufacturing unit in the centre of the building. In reality, the building was only a shell for it, with the rest of the facility merely tacked on offices and workstations. “The Master Mold is capable of generating a fully functional Sentinel every three days. That is twelve times as fast as the manufacturing of an F22, for instance. I should also remind you all that this is just a prototype for manufacturing the Mark 1 Sentinels. Within a few years, I intend to add at least 12-14 additional feet to the chassis and ten tons to the internal structure, which will allow us to significantly increase the overall payload and options to the weapon platform.”
“Very impressive, Dr. Trask.” Paul Rilker said, making notes into his tablet as he walked through the facility next to the diminutive man. Rilker, unlike most of AIM’s high ups was neither a scientist or an engineer, but he was the next best thing; a genius at logistics and project management, which is why he was often on the move, coordinating the wide array of subcontractors, inventors, and flat out lunatics that AIM had in their web of technology development.
“It is only a start. This is still largely the prototype that the Pentagon so kindly funded for us.” A scattering of chuckles rippled through the crowd. “With Mr. De Costa’s unique weaponry, we can realign our production to focus on flight and armor adding weight as opposed to ammunition or dedicated power sources. Along with the existing adaptive weapon mix, even the Mark 1 represents an impressive all situation profile as an offensive threat. Future generations will be faster, larger, and even more difficult to damage.” Trask again gestured to the Master Mold complex.
“Yes, these… weapons of Mr. De Costa. As you know, AIM is focused on science. Magic is… a variable.” Rilker said. No one on his team had been happy about Trask’s announcement regarding the new upgrades.
“A controllable one.” Trask said. Even De Costa had to admit the man had considerable charm. “Mr De Costa’s contributions work within our existing production structure. We produce the weapon projectors and ship them to his team in dozens. By the time he delivers them, all that is left is to slot them into the existing housings and connect them with the overall systems. The actual weapons are entirely controlled through our inhouse supply chain.”
Trask nodded to an assistant who produced a tablet. “The Brotherhood attacks on our previous two facilities were a setback for the DARPA aligned program, but they also generated a tremendous amount of data on the power profile of the terrorists and their overall threat level. De Costa’s weapons are a huge threat multipler for us against them, especially since the results are both uniformly destructive and unpredictable in application. For example, we tested one of his weapons against a tank, here.” He tapped a few buttons on the tablet and held it out. “In seconds, the blast rotted the tank.”
“Rotted? How do you rot steel?” Rilker said as he took the tablet. He watched as a modern M1 Abrams tank was hit with a purple beam and began to pulse with a glow. In seconds, holes started to appear and grow on the armor plating. In less than thirty seconds, it was reduced to a pile of corroded parts.
“I asked the same thing until I saw this.”
“Gentlemen, I can assure you that the unpredictability of the magic starts and ends within our infusement of the weapons.” De Costa stepped forward. He’d agreed to join the presentation to answer any questions, but also to indulge in his victory. His profits would be enormous and even if he lost the chance for a government connection, he knew that he had already gained a powerful ally in Trask, and AIM might prove to be an even greater one. The war with the Cartel; unexpected and inexplicable, had badly eroded his powerbase on the West Coast. The infusion of money would make it easy to reinforce the Maggia’s position and take the fight back to the Cartel’s home territory.
“The other advantage of Mr. De Costa’s weapons - the unpredictability - is actually a strength for us. Let us be frank. At some point, the Sentinels will be faced with the Avengers or a similar team composed of mixed mutants and enhanced humans. While people like Stark will focus on technological countermeasures, he’ll discover that there are none for a range of our weapons. No amount of Iron Men will be able to shield themselves from a… well, demonic based attack.” Trask pointed out. He knew that AIM had an issue with Stark Industries and Tony Stark specifically.
“I can’t argue against the attractiveness of the Sentinel platform. At just under three hundred million a unit, following a successful beta test, of course, we have close to a hundred orders already anticipated for the first two years. Although there are questions about using it to target non-mutant or superhuman targets.” Rilker said.
Trask shook his head. “No, we control the targeting on every unit we sell. Turning the Sentinels into a flying armored combat platform would not only draw too much attention, but it would open the floodgates to immediate countermeasures from every major military group on the planet. Focused solely on one range of targets, they can get around current Geneva restrictions regarding autonomous robotic warfare. Also, I designed the Sentinels to protect humanity. Not to give politicians another weapon to kill more people.”
“Of course.” Rilker said, already making a mental note to discuss the situation with his superiors. Considering the potential profit, Trask’s use once he’d reached the zenith of his design would be limited. “Now, the demonstration?”
“Yes, follow me.” He led through the facility and out into a wide open area. Six completed Sentinels stood in a line in front of them. The six robots were twenty foot in height, with a remarkably flexible internal structure covered in plates of purple coloured ablative armor. They fanned out to take the seats arranged for them as Trask took his spot behind a small podium.
“The Sentinel Mark 1 is designed to be the next generation in anti-mutant warfare. Each one carries eight tons of heavy armor with a modern anti-lazing ablative coating. Through a mix of back and foot mounted thrusters, the Sentinels are capable of limited flight. Each one also houses a complex scanning array, which includes radar, lidar and sonar capabilities as well as their custom designed mutant detection scanner. The scanner uses complex biometric readings combined with hundreds of thousands of mutant profiles to create matches. A second directional scanner is mounted in the chest, which provides a powerful spot light and can be used to sweep in multiple light ranges like infrared and ultraviolet.” Trask said, and on cue, all six ignited their thrusters, hovered in the air together.
“Now, the primary weapon system on the Sentinels is a reconfigurable blaster mechanism located in the hands. The unit can switch between multiple forms of energy, including non-lethal options, depending on the target. Located in the forearms are ejection ports for a number of items to catch and contain mutants, such as electrified netting, fire suppression systems, smoke, and other options. Encased in the shoulders and back are a mix of micro-missiles, drop charges and chaff systems.” Trask pointed out, as images of the systems were cycled through on the issued tablets. “Mr. De Costa’s weapons are housed as part of the blaster mechanism for now. Later versions will incorporate his upgrades into other internal systems to further upgrade their offensive capabilities.”
“Is there-” Rilker started, but paused as Trask’s head of security rushed out of the building. He had almost reached Trask when a massive explosion went up behind them. Everyone jumped out of the chairs, looking around as the ashen faced guard reached Trask.
“It’s the Brotherhood, sir. They’re… they’re here!”
“How did they- it doesn’t matter.” Trask shook his head. “Gentlemen, I’m afraid we’re under attack. Mr Rilker, please follow security. They will take you to our dropjet for evacuation. We will join you presently.” He sounded almost calm as Rilker departed with a pair of guards. Already, they could hear the sounds of weapon fire. “You can join him, Mr De Costa.”
“I’m curious to see what you have planned, Dr. Trask.”
“A live fire exercise. They might not be enough, but I’m curious to see just how effective my Mark 1’s will be against our unwelcome guests.“ He said with a tight smile as he scrolled through a series of commands in order to bring the Sentinels fully online.
***
“Dragoness, Senyaka and Phantazia in front. Use your bio-electricity to disrupt their automated defenses. Blob, Unus and Unuscione follow up, punch us a hole into the facility.” Erik the Red called over the comms, moving the Brotherhood in a tight, disciplined unit as soon as the teleported in. There were multiple layers of automatic turrets and armed guards, but they’d be through them in minutes.
“Something is happening.” Mystique said in his ear piece. She’d been inserted ten minutes before as an extra guard to scout the defenses. “I think they’re bringing the Sentinels online.”
“They weren’t supposed to be ready yet.” Erik the Red said, although half to himself.
“I am not concerned.” Magneto replied, taking his position leading the attack. “You and I will confront Trask directly. Mystique, continue the attack on the facility, but relay to the Brotherhood that Sentinels are likely inbound.” He wrapped Erik the Red in a magnetic hold and flew them both over the facility, easily diverting the odd shot taken at them. As they crossed the roof, the six Sentinels were in flight, arcing past them. Several turned, starting to follow them both as they landed near where De Costa and Trask stood.
“Ah, the man who would bring about a new Holocaust and the demon. Hard to distinguish between you.” Magneto said as they touched down. De Costa’s men had already drawn their weapons, augmented with De Costa’s demonic upgrades and the aura of his corruption abilities.
“So says the man that dreams of humans in bondage to mutants. I can’t say I care about your opinion.” Trask’s eyes were carefully tracing the three Sentinels that had turned back and were now streaking towards them.
“Enough to make a literal deal with a devil. I can respect the conviction, if nothing else.” Magneto replied, and at that moment, the skies opened up with a terrible fusillade of destruction. However, instead of striking the mutants, the blasts tore through De Costa and his men. Half died on impact from the blasts. The others, gravely wounded, tried to fire at the Sentinels, but the second barrage ripped apart the last of the defenders. De Costa took three blasts square in the chest and went over immediately. Trask took one look at the attack and ran. Magneto watched him coldly and raised his hand to pull the man back.
“-that… that is what you get for trusting computers.” A gravelly voice said from the smoke and carnage. An armored clawed hand reached up and grasped the side of the podium, using it to pull itself to its feet. His human form had been torn away by the Sentinel attack, and Olivier stood in his natural form; eight feet of black, red and bone-white exoskeleton, barbed and sharp.
“Ah, it looks like your intelligence was correct, Erik.” Magneto said to Erik the Red.
“Hell Lord. Who knew?”
“Yes, Hell Lord. And I’m going to enjoy having Magneto as my personal servant here on Earth.” He said, stepping forward and gesturing with his claws. “Your powers are nothing to me.”
“Are they not? You see, because I’m told that the old folktales I heard as a child contained a grain of truth. While there is no Baba Yaga in her chicken legged house or a dragon to crawl from his cave, I’m told that silver and cold iron still have power against your kind.” Magneto smiled at Olivier. “Did you know that both can be found in tiny amounts in every inch of dirt and every drop of water? And I, creature, am the Master of Magnetism. The very elemental forces are mine to command.”
With each word, the area around Magneto trembled, and a bright haze started to coalesce around him. “At least that creature Trask has the conviction of his misguided beliefs behind him. You would destroy my people for no other reason than money and power. A sad little demon indeed.” He outstretched his hand and the shining haze blasted forward like a wave. Almost imperceptibly to the human eye, it was composed of tiny arrowheads made from silver and meteoric iron he’d pulled from the surroundings, and it hit Olivier square in the chest.
“What!” Olivier choked out before a scream. The blast was as insubstantial as a breeze, and yet, his chest was torn open and his veins were on fire from the touch of the cursed metal. He whispered a magic field into existence for protection, but the particles inside were clouded around his face and head, lacerating him. A magnetic wave blasted him off his feet and sent him crawling.
“How did you do this?” He hissed, before being flayed again by the terrible bolt, black ichor pooling on the ground beneath him.
“Determination and will, demon. The reason your kind will always lose-” Magneto said as he stepped forward. “At the hands of mine.”
