Biomechanical Harness

April 04, 2016:

An incident at a SHIELD facility has Jemma, May, Falcon and Jericho attending.

New York


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

Three SUV's are just pulling up to an unnamed SHIELD facility somewhere on the outskirts of the New York. TAC Agents pile out of the vehicles, along with Jemma and her ever present security detail - today it's Michaels and Samuels.

"I'll want the 084 for examination." Simmons speaks to the Agent In Charge. "That's the second stable portal in two weeks." The biochem looks worried and stressed. "How many Daemonites got through today?"

'Lower Khera' as the facility had been known had been an unassuming industrial building outside New York, a bit to the west. It's a charred wreck now with a number of casualties ranging from not very serious to don't even bother. Definitely an all hands on deck kind of situation.

The attack had happened near an hour ago and whatever it was it had been over swiftly. Worryingly, this facility wasn't even supposed to be housing unknown artificats so exactly how a Daemonite portal had opened here isn't quite clear.

Agent Maurice Sanders isn't field personnel. Distnguished, greying and nearing 50 he'd spent a lot of his SHIELD career as a facilitator and adminsistrator. Yes, even SHIELD needs those. Today is completely out of his… experience. And scope. He's more than a little lost on how to handle this. Thankfully backup seems to have arrived.

The center of the mess, one of the inner rooms, is charred black. Furniture's gone, vaporized or fallen into some nether space. And right there stands a two foot tall mini monolith, still glowing with ember like symbols along the sides.

Arriving on the wing, Falcon drops to the sidewalk and jogs to a stop, wings folding away behind him. The man has done a pretty significant amount of work as a SHIELD contractor, and with May and Simmons especially. Given his ties to various other supergroups, it's no surprise that he might be an early point of contact: patch up the wounded, find out what happened, report back to the JLA or the Avengers or whoever might have some insight or be willing to help.

In spite of his natural fit for the practical needs of the situation, though, it has to be said that mystical portals are a little outside Sam Wilson's personal expertise. He's not going to have any insight to offer, just practical assistance. "Hey, Simmons," he says, giving her a nod and a broad grin, before turning to Agent Sanders and offering his hand. "Falcon, per invitation. What can I help you with?"

Melinda May arrived with Simmons, though lets the biochemist speak up first as she's the current authority in this particular type of 084s. May is mostly here to smack down any Daemonites that might show themselves. Agent Sanders — whom she's known for easily two decades now — gets a nod in greeting. It's probably as much as he's accustomed to.

"Hello Sam…" Jemma smiles at the flier as he lands before turning her attention to the mess "What happened Agent Sanders? Were there any casualities?" She's already distracted by the monolith with the glowing symbols and destruction around it.

"Doctor Morris. Please have the science team start analysis." Casting a look to May, Jemma is quiet. Both women know that SHIELD is compromised and Jemma has raised concerns privately to May and much of her research is now being conducted off of SHIELD premises.

"What a mess." That voice comes from a man who's just alighting at the edge of one of the less charred sections of roof. Amber bat wings mean only one thing. Jericho watches as Sam approaches and Jemma and May move to secure the situation, letting the agents pass by before hopping down to ground level. "The hell happened here?"

The wounded are… quite numerous. The critically wounded somewhat less so. Still Sam's going to have his hands full for a bit. SHIELD medics are also assisting but Sam's got a lot more experience than pretty much all of them. The wounds are burns, largely, crushing wounds from debris falling or nasty claw marks and contusions from being battered about by… something.

The science team moves into place around the 084 as Agent Sanders comes up to May. "Agent May. It was…" Again, this is clearly not field personnel. He looks back at the wreck of the building. "I… don't really have words. It was horrific… Those things coming out of a hole in space. Are these demons like that incident that I heard about at the Tri?"

The question makes Jericho, who is moving through the debris not far away looking for wounded, smirk. May can field that one but fancy name aside… no.

"Doctor Simmons! We've got something here." Indeed they do. In the carred room near the mini monolith that probably opened the portal there's… stuff. It's hard to tell at first glance what it is other than one, probably damaged from the portal shutting, two, definitely mechanical in nature and three, definitely not of this earth.

"May!" Sam greets the familiar face when he spots it. "Some scout I turned out to be. Didn't see you there." In truth, he landed with a few of his goggles' exotic filters on, keeping an eye out for the same potential skulking threats May is here to fend off. A few of those active is great for noticing people who don't want to be noticed — Jericho gets a cheerful wave as he lands — but crap for reading facial features.

Still, he's not really here for pleasantries, much as it's good to see his favorite Agents of SHIELD. No immediate threats in evidence, so he turns his attention to the wounded, easily settling into the practiced task of leading a triage team.

Melinda May nods to Sanders. "And the repeated 084 callouts." She knows the agent would already know about those, considering his usual duties around SHIELD. "Those things are dangerous, Sanders. We need to know exactly how many got through." She nods to Wilson, then as a thought occurs to her she nods and steps away from Sanders to speak with Falcon … and slip him that prototype Daemonite detector that Hemma gave her to test. It worked once. Maybe it work again.

"Hello Jericho." Jemma shakes her head at the mess, leaving May to respond to Sanders. "Seems we might have had some visitors." Moving, carefully, amongst the rubble, she casts Sam a faint smile.

Hearing her name called, Jemma moves to that location and squints at the rubble, pulling a pair of gloves on. "What have we got here…. " Using a length of wood, a shard from one of the desks, the biochem starts to move the rubble around and uncover what they've found.

"Jericho, May, Sam…. " the mechanical bits are fused and charred. "Looks like they were trying to bring something through." She can't quite make out what it is just yet, they might need to put the pieces together. "Doctor Morris, an analyser please…." She's going to scan for Compound R.

Sam may have noticed as he came in with those goggles on there was a patch of something that was enough to be odd but not quite enough to be threatening. That's the patch Jericho is digging through when he calls out. "Sam! May! We've got a live one here!" There's the distinct clack-clack of his sword unfolding but not, curiously, any subsequent sounds of fighting. Whatever he's got, he doesn't like it. Sanders looks over to where the odd formerly glow winged man is calling out.

"A what?"

Jemma is indeed getting hits of Compound R. A lot of it. Curiously it's on the alien device but not on the odd tech that seems to have been cut off by the closing of the portal. And it is tech. What it is… and what it's for… unclear. She'll need to get it back to a lab but there's a lot of it. Like, a truckload's worth.

Sam finishes setting a broken bone — painful, but necessary — before accepting the gadget from May. He gives it and her a curious look, then scans the progress of the SHIELD medical team. They're well trained and efficient, so he can step away from a few minutes. "This some kind of countermeasure you've come up with?" he asks quietly. "Definitely good to have, if so." He inspects the detector minutely, checking for ports and the system interface. His suit has had a few modifications courtesy of Tony Stark and he's no technical slouch himself, so it's possible that he might be able to patch this device into his HUD, or at least gather data from it.

When Jemma calls them over, he follows May, dividing his focus between what the biochemist found and running fine cables to the detector. Jericho's shouted warning, on the other hand, seems like a more immediate threat — he stuffs the detector into his harness, hunkers down, and starts rushing toward the potential threat. He draws an ICER from his hip but keeps it pointed downward.

Melinda May shakes her head no to Wilson. "Detector only." But, if he does patch it into his HUD, that might make it even more useful. She steps over toward Jemma, but then promptly stops at Trent's shout, one hand going behind her back. She's not going to actually draw her swords though unless and until they're needed. And, where she's standing she's between Jemma and whatever 'live one' Jericho called out about.

Quite engrossed in the tech that she's examining, Jemma nearly misses Jericho call. "Doctor Morris. Please organise a team to collect and tag all this. I want photo's of its placement before it's moved though." Standard procedure really.

"A live… what, Jericho?" she asks as she stands and dusts of her gloves. Seeing Mays stance, she checks her movement in his direction - but she so really wants to see…

Jericho has uncovered a daemonite. It's laying, slumped in the rubble. It's missing an arm from the shoulder down and if one looks, it's apparent that part of their usually substantial tail has been cut off as well. The creature has bled, a lot, but it's still breathing. Hence the 'live one'. There's a faint glimmer in it's eyes which may indicate that it's somewhow aware of them, but so far it isn't moving. It's just laying there heaving slow breaths. One. Two. One. Two.

Jericho has his blade pointed at it. SHIELD has taken a few of these things alive before. This one's a bit unusual on a couple of levels. The first is that it seems to be a bit larger and bulkier than others they've seen. The second - and the reason for the first as quickly becomes apparent - is that it's wearing some kind of biomechanical enhancement. Almost a harness or a suit but not quite either and in any case very organic looking, as if it was made more by a doctor than an engineer. That's pulsing as well.

A detector is still a very useful thing to have — if he can get it fully integrated with his system, at least. For now, Falcon skids to a halt next to Jericho, covering the creature with his ICER for a second. Still, it takes him no time at all to work out the creature isn't in any shape to attack them, and he holsters his weapon and moves forward to check its injuries almost immediately.

May starts toward where Falcon and Jericho are once Wilson moves to check on the being that Trent uncovered.Presumably, Jemma will be following close by. She's still very much ready to decapitate the being if it needs it, but for the moment her swords stay where they are. "Have you seen anything like this before?" She's asking, well, any of them.

The detector is made with Nth metal, a compound that doesn't exist on Earth and it has a limited range - about 60 feet according to the tests that Jemma has done.

"I don't care how injured it looks, it's still dangerous." Jemma and Jericho know this from experience. What she hasn't discovered yet is that it can regenerate limbs - so this will be interesting.

"No idea, Agent May. But it looks like it contains some of the pieces I found over there." Looking to Sam and Jericho "I don't think it's armour, they certainly don't need it… I wonder … if it's related to the deterioation in their condition Doctor Storm and I noted on the captured ones."

"Careful Sam." Jericho says. He's still holding his blade at the thing's throat. It doesn't move though, other than some twitches when Sam moves in to touch and check it.

The wounds, damage, whatever, they're fairly extensive. A normal person would have bled out. This one had definitely lost a lot of… fluid, though whehter from the augmentation or it's body isn't clear. What is clear is that there are extensive burns over the affected region. It must have taken an immense mount of energy to do this. Even more clear, though is the fact that it's regenerating. Sam can see it repairing itself, regrowing the arm. Slow. Very slow, but visible to the naked eye which means in the grand scheme of things it won't take that long. A week's not that long, right?

The thing opens it's eyes more fully and reaches out for Sam's mind. Unlike other times though, this time it doesn't want to take him over. It's just trying to talk. It might hurt though.

"Oh, yeah, we covered demon anatomy in basic," Sam answers May with a snort. He's out of his depth, not to mention wary of the thing, but he's not going to let it bleed out right in front of him, either. He has straps for tourniquets in one hand, zipties for restraints in the other — just in case. He's fast enough to already be tying the largest bleeding stump off when the thing starts sending him psychic spam mail.

Wincing and putting one hand to his temple, he answers through gritted teeth, "Doom, Doom, Doom. That supposed to impress me? Man, I hear scarier shit before I eat my cheerios." Just before he pulls the tourniquet tight, he adds, "I'm not going to kill you; I'm a medic. Doesn't mean this won't hurt, though."


Leaning closer to the thing's face, he says, "That's right, a medic. This world's so badass, I'm just the guy they send to help you when you get hurt. My advice? Find someone else to fuck with." He goes back to stabilizing the most extreme injuries, annoyed but determined.

Melinda May watches Falcon dealing with the fallen creature attentively, and when he starts talking TO the injured being, her eyes sharpen. "Falcon, report." She wants to know what the Daemonite is trying to convey, and possibly the thing's reasons for trying to communicate at all. So far as she knows this is the FIRST time one of these creatures has tried to do anything other than telepathically push people around.

"Sam, don't…." Jemma steps forward and goes to put a hand on his shoulder and then he does … that.

"It's regenerating…" she can see that much "And you might not kill it, Sam. But it's going on ice." It's the only way that Jemma's found to mostly contain them. What she hasn't considered though, is what happens when you get a passel of the creatures together.

Jericho steps forward and puts a booted foot on the shoulder Sam is not using, blade still at its throat. His amber eyes look suspicious but there's nothing else going on at the moment. Physically anyway. So that's enough to have him not lashing outo violently.

The creature narrow-eyes and practically glares at Sam as he (painfully) tends to his wounds. That voice in his head suddenly becomes a torrent of pictures. One after the other after the other, it's like watching the world's most disjointed slide show if the slides were on paper and someone were physically tying to cram them into your head with an ice pick. A sun, rising bright red and low in the sky. Dangerous. Swollen with age. Machines being built. Space flight. The stars. Other worlds, cultures. Wars. Societies killing themselves while the daemonites egg them on from the shadows. Machines. Subtle and hidden, changing the worlds around them into something more fit for the new inhabitants. And then a face. An enormous daemonite, bigger than any Sam has ever seen directing an army of daemonites spread across the galaxy. This fragile blue world slowly turning rocky and red as inexorable change overtakes it. Governments falling, rotted from within. A SHIELD symbol, shattered and broken on a helicarrier crashed on top of the Halls of Justice amid a burning Metropolis. Each faster than the last. Larger in the vision. Understand, Falcon of Earth. See and understand.

And then Sam gets Everything.

Outwardly the creature's enhancements start to twitch and glow. "Is it supposed to be doing that?" Jericho's voice is hard.

"He recognized me from another fight, ranted about how we're totally doomed, and then said I should kill him while he's hurt," Sam answers May in clipped phrases. "Clearly, he doesn't know me nearly as well as he thinks he does."

But then the images start getting wedged one after the other into his brain; he can't focus on what he's doing. He stands on shaky legs, his work still unfinished. His eyes are blind to his surroundings as he backs away from the daemonite. He reaches out, groping for something to steady himself before his legs give out completely. Turns out, he shouldn't have worried: after that last torturous burst of informational noise, his mind just surrenders, overwhelmed, to darkness.

Melinda May pulls her blades when Sam recoils from the creature, and then he collapses. "Now, Trent." And she moves to slice off the nearest of the injured Daemonite's limbs. Jericho is in a good place to decapitate the thing, she won't get in his way as much as she wants to. "Simmons, check on Falcon."

"Damn things." Simmons is already checking on Sam, getting others to help her move him clear. "He's going to be out for a while, I think." The stressed look on Jemma's face just got worse.

"May, we'll need a cryo unit to contain it."

Jericho lunges only to be halted by a telekinetic field. There's a moments stuggle as he pushes against it and in a final effort the creature flings his blade tip aside before crying out in pain from May's blade and passing out from the strain.

By the time Jericho has recovered and is rounding to finish the thing off it's clear it's not a threat. He grimaces and folds his blade up.

"Put this one on ice?" If so, SHIELD will be along shortly to do so.

Sam may have a headache when he wakes up. The question is, when he does… will his thoughts be entirely his own?

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