Breakout (II)

Planet: Tarsonis

Year:2524

Place: Confederate ??? Academy

After exiting the youth dormitory, Caesar found himself standing on the second floor of the main lobby. In front of him was a reinforced glass railing that circled the second floor and looked down on the lobby's main floor.

To his far-right, nothing. But to his near left...two heavily plated armored power armor. The first was a black plated suit with heavy wiring visible around the joints and parts; its centipede-like exoskeleton was visible around the lower back and tricep muscles.

The second, a bulker fully sealed power armor that carried two built-in liquid gas canisters and two forearm-mounted flamethrowers.

Caesar smiled, staring upon the backs of those two armors. He thanked the academy as thought about all the different ways he could cause their armor to fail.

'Before coming here, I dreamt about seeing the CMC-300 and 600. Now, I get to study the tech needed to make it to my heart's content.' Thought Caesar; Silently following their clanking boots and built-in led lights until they brought him parallel to the secretary desk below. #Insert Armor picture #

Caesar's psionic energy churned as he jumped over the railing. His light-grey eyes flashed green, causing his body to come to a hard stop, inches from the floor. He fell to the floor, then hit the ground dashing to the far wall.

"Did you see that!? The light, did you see it?" Yelled the marine, he snapped towards the secretary desk with his gauss sniper primed and ready to fire.

The Firebat jumped from the second floor, its feet centimeters from Caesar's face. "There's nothing here, now get in position. High command is assuming it's the Umojian Shadowguard, and we've all heard the legends surrounding those monsters."

The marine nodded, raising his sniper towards the elevator and stairway beside it. The Firebat moved towards the elevator, the nozzle around his flamethrower spun, opening up to widen its range. From the left, another Firebat walked into the lobby with two gauss rifle-armed marines in tow.

From the right, three more marines, and one more firebat. The firebats took their place to the right and left of the original firebat. Behind them was one shotgun-wielding marine, and arcing around the firebats were four marines armed with gauss rifles.

"All units switch visors to night-vision mode. All marines equipped gauss rifles with 8 mm depleted uranium needle rounds, and all snipers equipped with 16 mm armor-piercing incendiary. If anybody walks through those entrances, kill them." Said the sniper, above Caesar. His voice quaked over their comms as he thought about the Umojians. Everyone's quaked.

Caesar stood up, looking upon shadowy figures that were marines and firebats. His head rose to the sniper. 'Systems, disable video then disable communications followed by user controls. Lower right forearm 24 degrees, turn left 4 degrees, unlock exoskeleton back support. Fire at 3.'

*BOOM!*

The bullet fired, the sniper's spine shattered in three places. Caesar sprinted down into the closest stairway, diving down the stairwell as he began to activate his baleful psionic armor.

*BO-BOOM! BOOM! BOOOOOMMMM!*

The Firebat's liquid gas tanks detonated. Detonating its fusion reactor, which engulfed the nearby firebats, detonating their liquid gas tanks and reactors! Engulfed the marines, detonating their reactors, melting their flesh, and charring their bones.

The shockwave shattered the secretary's desk and sent the already sniper marine clean into the wall. His flesh now cooked like buttered chicken. The blast destroyed the elevator doors and safety locks, sending careening over 40 floors below.

The noise echoed throughout the upper and lower academy, scaring the staff, shocking the students, and alerting the soldiers.

Caesar bit his lip, reeling from back pain. His psionic armor threatened to deactivate, his ears perked. He could hear people marching up the stairway. As the psionic armor collapsed, he raised his head, unveiling his face to the oncoming people.

He laid eyes on two people. The first was a tall black male wearing three green lensed goggles while carrying a combat rifle. The second even taller black-haired female, dawning the same goggles and armed with the same combat rifle.

"What is that armor?" Asked Caesar, limping to his feet.

Their eyes widened, feeling his psionic energy. The female's gun rose straight to his head, the man lowered his before asking Caesar.

"How'd--?" The man stopped, then tapped the side of his goggles. "Comms on...communications on." He glanced towards the girl, 'down.' She told him through telepathy.

"What sort of teep or teek are you?" Asked the man.

Caesar smiled. He had a chance, they didn't report him. "I'm a technopath, And what do teep and teek mean exactly?"

The girl lowered her gun in confusion, the man did his best to smirk but it was disjointed as if he never smiled in decades! "A teep is ghost slang for telepathy and teek slang for telekinesis. As for ghosts, this is what they're training you to become."

Caesar nodded his head, and the man continued. "I'm going to ask a series of questions. If you lie once, I'm selling you out to Director Popovich.

Question one: Did your technopathy allow you to do all this? If so, what else can you do?"

Caesar: "Yes, and my technopathy allows me to link up with, communicate and or control certain machines. It also allows me to pick up and listen to any signals they produce."

His words caused the pair to grow giddy, ooze hope, and openly cry tears of joy. The woman stepped forward begging. "P-p-please! P-p-please free us from this nightmare." her tears spilled on Caesar.

"Fine, so long as you do two things on your way out." Caesar's words caused the pair to frown, worried about what he might want.

"As you exit the building I want you to kill as many Marines or Firebats as you can." The pair sighed in relief, readily agreeing to his terms.

The man stepped forward, lowering his tear-stained eyes to meet Caesar's eye level. "Before we begin, I gotta ask. Why didn't you just escape by yourself?"

"I'm from the Gutters. And in that place, there's nothing there. But within here, I can gain everything!"

The man hugged Caesar, crying into his shoulder as he told him. "When recruits turn 10 they get moved into isolation chambers or what some call, quarantine cells. For three years they'll do anything to stamp out whatever emotions remain within recruits. They even ban the use of names, restrict contact, communication, torture...anything goes. So long as it produces their ideal psionic soldier, which are. Overly reliant, foolishly loyal, and extremely stoic ghosts.

They do this in three ways. The first is by flooding recruit minds with Confederate propaganda year after year. The second is by limiting any tools you would need to live a thrive in a basic society. And the third...killing. They spend years teaching recruits and agents, killing is good, killing is heroic. They even go as far as to teach remote nuclear detonation. Oh, and any recruits deemed unacceptable coming out of quarantine cells are killed. So it's literally! Your last big hurdle."

For a long moment, Caesar was stunned. He tried to reassure himself by saying. 'That's 10 months away. We have plenty of time. In the meantime, I'll get the others to stay quiet. While Clark's group grows so they become the focal point of attention.' Thought Caesar comforting himself. The man could sense his growing fear and nervousness. Caesar's hand rose to disable all the systems surrounding the pair's neural inhibitors before stepping to the side.

At the same time. A marine entered the stairway from above, only for his neck to snap sideways. The man smiled proudly, cocking his gun before walking past Caesar. The woman followed but stopped to tell Caesar. "The Director is after political and military power.

In most cases blackmailing him wouldn't work because he's a massive influencer and insignificant public figure within the confederacy. However, if you can deal with that while recording as many of his transgressions as possible. Even he would ask for a truce.

That being said, the real issue is the recruits. At first, the recruits around you will say. "We just gotta survive!" But quickly they will fall.

In the beginning, they'll snitch. But you'll accept them and their apologies. Soon after they'll try to justify it with heartfelt words, and tear-stained eyes. Then they'll justify it with fancy food and premium treatment. However, eventually, the treatment will stop. And they'll just peer into your mind because it's their duty...their duty to the Confederacy.

Sadly, you can't do it alone. You need people who are willing to take that beating with you and for you. Hopefully, you find those people. But if you can't. Then try to find us. He's Stone, I'm Lossie."

With that, the woman left. Ready to start her soon-to-be new life.

Caesar paused, his eyes darted to his datapad. '14 minutes left.' His feet limped towards floor D2. Her words replayed over and over within his head.

His latest thought? 'Telepathy, how do I prevent it?

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#An: Oh and if you're wondering why they kill recruits who fail the test at 13. The reasons are simple. Like everything in life, nothing is perfect. This includes all versions of neural resocialization and the neural inhibitors used on every psionic. #