04-22-2017, 01:18 AM
Kelly rubbed the back of his neck and cycled his breathing, forcing himself to relax.
I don't really know that much yet – there's no reason to get bent out of shape... but just the feeling surrounding this situation, the aesthetic, it's so damn familiar I can almost hang a name on it.
Water trickled down the limestone-brick wall of the alley. In his mind, it was the harpy laughing at him, sable plumage shuddering as she wrapped herself in her silken wings and cackled.
“They're at the the center of the problem,” Palmer continued, gaining momentum. “An organization called Nebula, which Doctor Regal knows from his native continuum, has been producing and distributing them throughout the Omniverse. When used by a creature with the proper cybernetic interface, these devices are an overwhelming-but-volatile source of power. They offer a temporary, significant increase in strength as well as access to whatever weapons, tools, or combat data are stored on the chip. There is, however, a very serious catch.”
He clicked the fob again, deactivating the hologram, and stuck the little device back in his pocket. “They're pathologically addictive. Each use makes the craving worse, until eventually the withdrawal symptoms become life-threatening if the user doesn't get their regular fix. Even worse than that, continued use will cause progressively more severe per-”
Kelly cut Palmer off, surprising himself as well. “Personality changes. Loss of conscience, maybe? Exaggeration of previously suppressed negative personality traits? A tendency towards sadism compounded by violent and destructive behavior?”
The scientist frowned, momentarily taken aback. “Well... yes, actually. The symptoms vary wildly from one individual to the next. Some users practically degrade into animals, fueled by dark power, while others retain their faculties but lose their morals. Each case is unique, but the result is never pleasant. Have, uh, if you don't mind my asking, have you encountered Dark Chip users before?”
The psychic shook his head, his mouth set in a thin line. With his mind queuing wildly off mist-shrouded shadows of memory and the ghosts of associated strategies, it took him a moment to respond.
“... No. No, I don't think so - but I may have dealt with something very similar. What else can you tell me?”
Palmer shrugged, contriving to look apologetic. “Not very much, unfortunately. The Doctor doesn't know what Nebula's endgame is, only that whatever it is they're up to, it's far from benign. There's already been an increase in violent incidents that can be traced directly to their influence. The energy spectra that corresponds to the Dark Chips, and Nebula activity in general, has been detected in every 'verse, in some cases at quite alarming levels.”
Kelly nodded, speaking slowly. “So you're saying that they have potentially entrenched positions all over the Omniverse, their numbers and the true extent of their influence are unknown, they have control of an addictive, destructive, potent power-source and their activities have been getting more overt. Yet somehow, nobody in a position of authority has done anything.”
It was the scientists turn to nod. “Yes. They have to be stopped, while they still can be stopped.”
He held up his gloved hand, and removed the high-tech gauntlet, holding it out. “This is for you, if you agree to help. It's something Doctor Regal invented. He calls it a 'liberator aide'. It's capable of tracking Nebula's energy signature, and can detect their forces and strongholds, though the range is a little limited. It offers a number of other benefits as well. The wearer is partially shielded from the ambient destructive influence Nebula's power, and when worn by a Prime it increases their natural healing and durability significantly.”
The traveler leaned forward very slightly, examining the device in the dim light of the alleyway. He moved to put it on, paused, and when his haunt remained silent, donned the gauntlet. “Of course I'm going to help. If your information is even half-way accurate this could turn into a global catastrophe. Just off the top of my head, if something like this were to take hold in the lower tiers of Coruscant it has the potential to start a full-blown civil war.” he said, flexing his fingers. “And don't even get me started on Camelot.” The device fit snugly, and didn't seem to hamper movement, though the psychic could feel it interacting with his Omnilium reserve in some subtle way. He fiddled with the keypad.
That's a weird sensation...it doesn't appear to be harmful, though, and the interface seems intuitive enough.
“I have a lot of questions, though. You said the Doctor has been gathering information on potentially helpful Primes. How is he organizing them? How many have been contacted? Are teams already in place? I'd assume that priority has been given to the verses with the highest detected level of Nebula activity – is that accurate? Do we have any idea how many strongholds they have in each 'verse? How complete is our coverage? ”
And of course, how much of what you've told me is actually true? I'd wager most of it is– but I'll need to be careful not to let my preconceptions cloud my judgment.
Palmer took an involuntary step back, nearly tripping on a piece of fallen masonry. He looked momentarily panicked, overwhelmed by the psychic's probing inquiries. He clearly hadn't been expecting such immediate interest. “I... uh... I don't know. Most of that, actually. I was told to tell you that the Green and the Steppes don't have any Liberators at all, but you'll have to speak to the doctor if you want to know more. I can give you his contact info.”
“I'd appreciate that,” Kelly said. “Also – what is this slot on the liberator aide for?” He pointed at a data-port on the side of the device.
The blond-haired messenger's face darkened, and he suddenly didn't look quite so young. “Oh. Right... That. That's an interface port for Dark Chips. It'll let you use them if you find them – allow you to access their power. The gauntlet will protect you from the worst of the effects, so if you don't use them often you should be fine.” The scientist bit his lip. “In theory.”
“I wasn't planning on it,” said the psychic. “But I suppose it's good to know I have an emergency fallback available.”
Privately, Kelly wasn't thrilled at the idea – in fact, just contemplating it made him feel sick, echoes of an old, awful association clawing at the walls in his head. But the basic life-rule of not sticking any addictive things he found lying around directly into his arm would seem to mitigate the problem, so he tentatively decided to let the issue lie.
Palmer handed Kelly a business card with the Doctor's information on it. Kelly memorized it, thanked him, and stuck it in his belt.
The traveler, now a Liberator as well, which was good branding if nothing else (which made him somewhat suspicious), quickly reviewed the facts. The data was far from complete, but he had enough to make a preliminary decision.
“I'm going to head for the Tangled Green,” he said. “It seems like the 'verse with the least vulnerability to something with such a strong technological basis, and if I were running an organization like Nebula, that would look to me like a strong incentive to make it a primary staging-ground for my operations.”
Palmer Mason, cybernetic engineer, peered at Kelly, studying him as though he were seeing him for the first time. The rain picked up, falling harder out of the thin, gutter-framed slit of gray sky that gazed down upon their clandestine meeting.
“You have a very counter-intuitive way of thinking," he said. "Just who are you?"
“I'm a problem-solver,” the strategist said, deliberately evasive. “If we get the chance, someday I might tell you about it. Now, is there anything else you can tell me that I'll need to know? Anything at all?”
Palmer frowned, unrolling his sleeves and untying his lab-coat from around his waist. slipping it on in order to gain a little protection from the weather. “Just one thing,” He said. “I was getting to it. Nebula's power has reality-warping effects. They're powerful, and can persist after exposure. Don't be surprised if the rules you've gotten used to since coming to the Omniverse don't necessarily apply in the same ways if you're attacking one of their strongholds.”
Kelly was curious, but unperturbed. “What do you mean?”
The increasingly-soggy scientist shrugged, and huddled closer to the alley wall. “I've never studied that particular aspect of the problem. You'll have to ask the Doctor.”
“Then I think we're done here. Thank you for being persistent enough to find me. It was the right decision. “
The two men shook hands. “Good luck,” said Palmer.
Kelly thanked him, and left him in the alley. Marching towards the gates of Darkshire and the Moors beyond, the psychic immediately recalled his dataverse window. He had e-mails to send.
I don't really know that much yet – there's no reason to get bent out of shape... but just the feeling surrounding this situation, the aesthetic, it's so damn familiar I can almost hang a name on it.
Water trickled down the limestone-brick wall of the alley. In his mind, it was the harpy laughing at him, sable plumage shuddering as she wrapped herself in her silken wings and cackled.
“They're at the the center of the problem,” Palmer continued, gaining momentum. “An organization called Nebula, which Doctor Regal knows from his native continuum, has been producing and distributing them throughout the Omniverse. When used by a creature with the proper cybernetic interface, these devices are an overwhelming-but-volatile source of power. They offer a temporary, significant increase in strength as well as access to whatever weapons, tools, or combat data are stored on the chip. There is, however, a very serious catch.”
He clicked the fob again, deactivating the hologram, and stuck the little device back in his pocket. “They're pathologically addictive. Each use makes the craving worse, until eventually the withdrawal symptoms become life-threatening if the user doesn't get their regular fix. Even worse than that, continued use will cause progressively more severe per-”
Kelly cut Palmer off, surprising himself as well. “Personality changes. Loss of conscience, maybe? Exaggeration of previously suppressed negative personality traits? A tendency towards sadism compounded by violent and destructive behavior?”
The scientist frowned, momentarily taken aback. “Well... yes, actually. The symptoms vary wildly from one individual to the next. Some users practically degrade into animals, fueled by dark power, while others retain their faculties but lose their morals. Each case is unique, but the result is never pleasant. Have, uh, if you don't mind my asking, have you encountered Dark Chip users before?”
The psychic shook his head, his mouth set in a thin line. With his mind queuing wildly off mist-shrouded shadows of memory and the ghosts of associated strategies, it took him a moment to respond.
“... No. No, I don't think so - but I may have dealt with something very similar. What else can you tell me?”
Palmer shrugged, contriving to look apologetic. “Not very much, unfortunately. The Doctor doesn't know what Nebula's endgame is, only that whatever it is they're up to, it's far from benign. There's already been an increase in violent incidents that can be traced directly to their influence. The energy spectra that corresponds to the Dark Chips, and Nebula activity in general, has been detected in every 'verse, in some cases at quite alarming levels.”
Kelly nodded, speaking slowly. “So you're saying that they have potentially entrenched positions all over the Omniverse, their numbers and the true extent of their influence are unknown, they have control of an addictive, destructive, potent power-source and their activities have been getting more overt. Yet somehow, nobody in a position of authority has done anything.”
It was the scientists turn to nod. “Yes. They have to be stopped, while they still can be stopped.”
He held up his gloved hand, and removed the high-tech gauntlet, holding it out. “This is for you, if you agree to help. It's something Doctor Regal invented. He calls it a 'liberator aide'. It's capable of tracking Nebula's energy signature, and can detect their forces and strongholds, though the range is a little limited. It offers a number of other benefits as well. The wearer is partially shielded from the ambient destructive influence Nebula's power, and when worn by a Prime it increases their natural healing and durability significantly.”
The traveler leaned forward very slightly, examining the device in the dim light of the alleyway. He moved to put it on, paused, and when his haunt remained silent, donned the gauntlet. “Of course I'm going to help. If your information is even half-way accurate this could turn into a global catastrophe. Just off the top of my head, if something like this were to take hold in the lower tiers of Coruscant it has the potential to start a full-blown civil war.” he said, flexing his fingers. “And don't even get me started on Camelot.” The device fit snugly, and didn't seem to hamper movement, though the psychic could feel it interacting with his Omnilium reserve in some subtle way. He fiddled with the keypad.
That's a weird sensation...it doesn't appear to be harmful, though, and the interface seems intuitive enough.
“I have a lot of questions, though. You said the Doctor has been gathering information on potentially helpful Primes. How is he organizing them? How many have been contacted? Are teams already in place? I'd assume that priority has been given to the verses with the highest detected level of Nebula activity – is that accurate? Do we have any idea how many strongholds they have in each 'verse? How complete is our coverage? ”
And of course, how much of what you've told me is actually true? I'd wager most of it is– but I'll need to be careful not to let my preconceptions cloud my judgment.
Palmer took an involuntary step back, nearly tripping on a piece of fallen masonry. He looked momentarily panicked, overwhelmed by the psychic's probing inquiries. He clearly hadn't been expecting such immediate interest. “I... uh... I don't know. Most of that, actually. I was told to tell you that the Green and the Steppes don't have any Liberators at all, but you'll have to speak to the doctor if you want to know more. I can give you his contact info.”
“I'd appreciate that,” Kelly said. “Also – what is this slot on the liberator aide for?” He pointed at a data-port on the side of the device.
The blond-haired messenger's face darkened, and he suddenly didn't look quite so young. “Oh. Right... That. That's an interface port for Dark Chips. It'll let you use them if you find them – allow you to access their power. The gauntlet will protect you from the worst of the effects, so if you don't use them often you should be fine.” The scientist bit his lip. “In theory.”
“I wasn't planning on it,” said the psychic. “But I suppose it's good to know I have an emergency fallback available.”
Privately, Kelly wasn't thrilled at the idea – in fact, just contemplating it made him feel sick, echoes of an old, awful association clawing at the walls in his head. But the basic life-rule of not sticking any addictive things he found lying around directly into his arm would seem to mitigate the problem, so he tentatively decided to let the issue lie.
Palmer handed Kelly a business card with the Doctor's information on it. Kelly memorized it, thanked him, and stuck it in his belt.
The traveler, now a Liberator as well, which was good branding if nothing else (which made him somewhat suspicious), quickly reviewed the facts. The data was far from complete, but he had enough to make a preliminary decision.
“I'm going to head for the Tangled Green,” he said. “It seems like the 'verse with the least vulnerability to something with such a strong technological basis, and if I were running an organization like Nebula, that would look to me like a strong incentive to make it a primary staging-ground for my operations.”
Palmer Mason, cybernetic engineer, peered at Kelly, studying him as though he were seeing him for the first time. The rain picked up, falling harder out of the thin, gutter-framed slit of gray sky that gazed down upon their clandestine meeting.
“You have a very counter-intuitive way of thinking," he said. "Just who are you?"
“I'm a problem-solver,” the strategist said, deliberately evasive. “If we get the chance, someday I might tell you about it. Now, is there anything else you can tell me that I'll need to know? Anything at all?”
Palmer frowned, unrolling his sleeves and untying his lab-coat from around his waist. slipping it on in order to gain a little protection from the weather. “Just one thing,” He said. “I was getting to it. Nebula's power has reality-warping effects. They're powerful, and can persist after exposure. Don't be surprised if the rules you've gotten used to since coming to the Omniverse don't necessarily apply in the same ways if you're attacking one of their strongholds.”
Kelly was curious, but unperturbed. “What do you mean?”
The increasingly-soggy scientist shrugged, and huddled closer to the alley wall. “I've never studied that particular aspect of the problem. You'll have to ask the Doctor.”
“Then I think we're done here. Thank you for being persistent enough to find me. It was the right decision. “
The two men shook hands. “Good luck,” said Palmer.
Kelly thanked him, and left him in the alley. Marching towards the gates of Darkshire and the Moors beyond, the psychic immediately recalled his dataverse window. He had e-mails to send.