From: "Clayton" <redneckdadd@yahoo.com> Subject: [PW!] The Perfect Soldier Date: Tuesday, February 17, 2004 6:34 AM > The real Bob awoke to the sight of a gun pointed at his head. Several, > he soon noted, in hardpoints all around the room that practically > screamed "automated security system". The only other features of the > metal room were the chains confining him to the half of the room > opposite the door, some indirect red lights - which he quickly > determined were precisely the wrong frequency for solar beams or > synthesis - and Mimic, or so he assumed the humanoid meditating at his > feet to be. > > "Ah, you're finally awake." Bob had never heard the voice before; the > distortion of a low-quality voice synthesizer likely explained that. > > "Who are you?" > > "Ah, ah. *We* will ask the questions, young breeder. But if you must > know...we're Team Magma, your pokemon are under sedation in our Pokemon > Center, and your friend is not moving because he knows that if he makes > any attempt to leave or to rescue you, you'll be dead in a heartbeat." Bob kicked experimentally to find that his ankles were shackled. Looking over to eack wrist, they could be moved about, but they too were shackled, effectivlely pinning him to the wall with little room to move. "This is living?" Bob asked rhetorically. "I can't even say I'm rooted in one spot." "What we are offering you is a chance at power, to help our glorious quest to increase the world's landmasses." The voice starts. "You have the power to defeat our rivals and clear our way to victory. Will you join us?" "Lemme get this straight -- you kidnap me, chain me up, point GUNS at me and you want me to JOIN you?!?" Bob said, tugging on his bonds for emphasis. "HELL NO!" "Shame, I was hoping that we wouldn't have to do it this way, but you leave us no choice. We will have our Perfect Soldier, you won't stop us. Neither will your friend if he values your life." ------- Down in an laboratory in a lower level, a few Magma scientists were putting the finishing touches on some boxes with wires attached to a large glass tube. The culmination of many years of stolen research, legitimate research and just dumb luck were finally coming together in the underground laboratory. Soon they would have have the first of their perfect soldiers and soon the Aquas would be no more. The premise is a simple one -- Take a donor, willing or not and infuse it with a wider array of techniques. Then if unwilling to fight for the cause, instill mind controlling measures so that they will obey. Train the newly created soldier in the art of fighting and turn them loose on the enemy. But as they are about to deal with a living thing and Technical Machines, thereis plenty of room for error -- some errors would be minor and cause minimal damage while others would be devistating to the base and project. That's where Bob fit into the grand scheme of Magma's plans. As a hybrid, he already had the fusion of human drive and pokemon power -- it eliminated one more chance for disaster in their plans. As a grass-type, one with a natural advantage over Aqua's plentiful Water-type defenders, he became a large part of their developing plans. Now that all the pieces were in place, the grand plan could come into fruition. Sedating the shackled and almost thrashing breeder with Breloom Spores, the pair of Magma grunts unchained him and hauled him off like a sack of potatoes. All the while, the manoevered themselves so at lest one gun of the automated security system had a clear shot at Bob Only when the last Magma grunt shut the door again did Mimic allow himself the opportunity to move. ------- As the lights in the hallway were the normal type and colour, Bob's somewhat natural process of photosynthesis could finally take place, restocking his depleted energy stores. But the point is moot as he's asleep. By the time the journey down to the laboratory is done, the hybrid has upgraded to barely conscious. It registers that he's being propped in a tube-like device, as well as it registers that they're cutting his shirt off to attach probes at various strategic places to monitor his vital signs. It also registers that the air coming through the breathing mask is laced with something, though he is knocked out again by the time it registers Various scientists and grunts are checking over wiring and programs and protocols before pushing the button to eliminate any possibility of error or disaster. To them, the hybrid in the tank is expendable. However, the money and time invested in the lab makes it an invaluable resource. In the tank, as the laced air drives Bob further into unconsciousness, a lone thought escapes #Raffy ... Mimic ... Aerie ... I failed ... you ... ...# ------- Down in the Magma's Pokemon Center, a Girafarig twitches. As even the nurse there didn't take into account that one head stays awake, the Girafarig was able to pick up that last stray thought. A seething rage starts to burn within the mostly asleep pokemon, manifesting itself into a solid blue-hued aura that burns brightly for a few seconds. # Just don't die. # Raffy begged his trainer and friend, before falling back into the restful state that Girafarig sleep in. TBC ------- Clayton Random Tagline: If you can't get out of it, dig yourself deeper in it! [NS: It seemed like an interesting twist. And since I couldn't come up with a plausible way out of it, I might as well flow with it.]