8756/Sentinels: Destroy it, and all it commands

Sentinels: Destroy it, and all it commands
Date of Scene:	12 August 2019
Location:	R and D Labs, The Triskelion
Synopsis:	Steve Rogers and Hank Pym determine the next steps against the Sentinels.
Cast of Characters:	Ant-Man (Pym), Captain America
Tinyplot:	Sentinels

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Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
    The R&D lab area given to Dr. Pym is silent. That is not out of the ordinary: Pym likes concentration and quiet, and isn't one for lots of questions or chatter. In this particular case, it's a tomb; the assistants aren't even around, in the late evening.

The lab is a ghostly place of a few beeps and quiet hums. Seeking Pym inside would at first appear to be pointless - except that there is a light in the back. The scientist is there, slowly working over a trio of monitors, resting his cheek on a palm, and skimming slowly.

Captain America has posed:
This time of night, much of the Triskelion is quiet, at least at face glance. Beneath, as always, the busiest little bees continue their midnight watch against potential threats. Steve makes his way downstairs towards R&D in his sneakers and a fresh t-shirt over his sweatpants, having spent an extra hour in the gym working off excess energy -- read as: stress.

The lab's ambient lighting glosses through his still-damp hair as he enters, looking around the empty desks and clean countertops. Air moves in quiet whirring sounds. Espying the glow of a night owl, he walks towards it. His running shoes make soft impacts on the tile floor. He thinks he recognizes the back of the head.

"Hey, Hank, it's Steve. Do you have a minute?"

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
Hank clears his throat, in a manner that suggests he might have been nodding off a little bit. He swivels the chair around, passing his fingers against one side of his nose and then up the bridge. The squint that follows proves he may have been dozing a little - or just was mesmerized in the light of the consoles.

"I do. Select the chair that speaks to you," Hank suggests in his dry way, smiling partially, with a gesture across a virtual sea of empty chairs. Most of them look the same, so it isn't much of a selection, really.

Captain America has posed:
The nearest rolling chair is snagged by its back padding and pulled over. With a small grunt, Steve sits and then leans into it. The plastic skeleton creaks at his frame and its weight, but holds up to his muscled bulk nonetheless. "'ppreciate it," he replies quietly, at first. His hands up interlaced in his lap as he gives Hank a level, tired look.

"Wondering if you read anything about the last interaction I had with the Sentinel asset." By whom, he means Sebastion in particular. The formal report, submitted, might not have reached far enough down in totality or dripped through in inklings through the cracks.

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
"I don't know specifically what role you had with it personally," Dr. Pym clarifies, resting his forearm on the edge of his console table, but otherwise turning to open his person physically towards Steve: a body language move to show that he's giving the other man full attention, his gaze on Steve's face.

"I just know about the Sentinels still parked in New Jersey, and what was given over to me related to the other infiltration models that showed up. I'm really considering just going back to the Avengers lab: not much I can do here with said 'asset' in the wind, until we catch it again."

Captain America has posed:
Monitor glow bleaches out Steve's hair and face, contours his face as he nods. "Wouldn't mind you being back in the lab," he admits quietly even before he rubs his eyes, his hand spanned across his face briefly. "So, the set of robots parked out in New Jersey. Those are mine."

He waits only a moment to continue. "I convinced the asset to hand over care of them to me. They are mine to do what I want with at this time. All of the Avengers are coded in as either neutral or friendly entities. I don't think I can do anything flashy with 'em right now, but...it's my name on the paperwork in the dashboard."

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
"Yours," Hank echoes, without much emotion or intonation either way. He gives Steve a long, studying stare. "While I can't imagine a better person /to/ control them, I'm going to have to break it to you - I think you were outright lied to," Pym says simply. "I do believe you can order them to do things, so long as those orders also go with the agenda of the Sentinel," he clarifies, patting one palm on the table. He doesn't actually sound apologetic: just being straight and direct, in his tactless way.

"I also think that you're being played - in that if you do use them, you are then responsible. For whatever they end up doing, however they twist your orders." Hank lifts his brows a little bit, leaning in his chair. "It's clever."

Captain America has posed:
"I know. It's clever and it makes me tired, Hank. I'm one irrational decision away from seeing if I can self-destruct the entire damn group of 'em 'nd claim that I sneezed while I was giving an order," the Captain admits, voice gone cool and flat. "You want to go climb around inside one of 'em? See what you can find? Figure it'd be good to know because..."

Steve then looks covertly over his shoulder, back towards the entryway to R&D and then back towards Pym. "I've got something else to discuss elsewhere, probably back at the mansion."

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
"I'll climb in one, yes. I'll plant a virus that'll take the lot out, and the nasty head, if he dares reconnect to them," Hank says, his tone cold, and hard. He's not bragging, or messing around: that's something he clearly intends to have happen. "SHIELD kept me away from him, the whole time he was here. I could have ended this, we wouldn't be chasing his shadow AGAIN. Enough." Pym scowls, firmly shoving his chair back, expressive. Hank tends to mood swing pretty sharply, and it's clearly happening.

"The mansion? No need. I have an isolator here," Dr. Pym says, pushing to his feet, and walking over to one of the far tables, to dig around in one of his boxes. He brings over an object the size of a fist, sets it down, and flips the dial on it. "Cloaked us from surveillance. Go for it."

Captain America has posed:
"You have my blessing to do that, Hank. Let me know when I can accompany you out there," Steve murmurs, having leaned back heavily into the chair. His arms cross and bring definition to his chest as the man rotates in the chair to watch whatever the scientist is retrieving appear. At the claim of it blocking all surveillance, his wheat-gold eyebrows flick upwards. Hank gets a lingering look, silent questioning of his claim, but the Captain then plunges onwards.

"I read a report of a mold being taken out. It was a SNAFU, but they did it. There's got to be a limited number of molds left. I'm putting together a team for a covert operation to take out whatever's left, even if it kills us -- we'll walk that off anyways," he adds with a dark little smirk. "Because we are running out of time. I met with Magneto, the monarch of Genosha. You saw he was floating a base out over international waters with the intent to come to blows with anyone supporting the Sentinels? Even insinuated he'd come to blows with the United States as a whole. Had to fly out to it 'nd talk him down. He listened to what I had to say. We have him as a big gun." Those brows flick high again, implying the Captain's fully aware of how big a gun the metal-warping mutant could potentially be.

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
"I can probably handle the trip on my own, but I admit it could be smoother with you present, and less obnoxious on my end," Hank replies, starting with the first topic of dealing with the sentinel army. Confident, but slightly put-upon: Hank Pym's default emotion with most tasks, at least when they involve something he isn't too concerned about. Pym's one of the few people, perhaps, to be quite so confident about an army of robots.

The query given about the surviellance object gets a simple nod and smile. A real smile, actually, not an arrogant one: perhaps attuned to encourage speaking. Pym tested the object, though. He's damn thorough.

"You want to target and take out a mold... Yeah, we can do that. I don't see a reason to kill ourselves," Dr. Pym teases. "I've seen one before. Besides, they have no scope of my tech; I should be able to help a team do that without much risk, if it's one of the Trask facilities."

Captain America has posed:
"Probably going to be a facility. I expect security to be tightened after the last group's successful attempt, but...if you're thinking you can take 'em off-guard with your own tech? I believe you, Dr. Pym." It is with an inexhaustive faith that Steve claims this of the scientist, true even if his smile is half-wattage.

"We'll start with the virus in the formation of robots out in Jersey though. That bomb's gotta be planted before they try 'nd call in reinforcements. Going after the last mold's going to kick up a hornet's nest, I'll wager." He remains remarkably still given the tension still present in his body, not fidgeting in his chair in any manner.

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
"Yes. Send Stark to go entertain Trask during the mission, they can compare their business portfolios and small business destruction strategies -- and perhaps we can at least get a pulse on how involved Trask actually is, by what happens when he loses his factory," recommends Dr. Pym. Hanging Stark out to dry a little with handling Trask is just a bonus. His smile is pleasant as Steve accepts his words on faith: Pym appreciates being taken at his word and not underestimated!

"I've expected a need to sneak into some of these facilities, so your idea was... anticipated. With a combination of the weapon concept Reed Richards supplied, Stark's upgrades, and my expansion concepts, the whole factory should fall with minimal difficulties, once we expose the mold. I want to take no risks: to shut down the self-destruct, and in a contained way, destroy it and all it commands."

Captain America has posed:
"As long as he's able to chime into the comms with a warning, I'm fine with Stark having an ear in on what we're doing. I figure too, if Trask goes apoplectic, he'll be amused about it. Zero risks," he too agrees as he shifts in the chair. "Might as well fine-tune the plan while we're under the cover of your invention." Steve inclines his head to indicate the small box apparently granting them privacy.

"Missions parameters. In and out, minimal presence, maximal impact. Could plant another virus, see if we can broadcast it out to the rest of the Sentinels in the plant...?" The two gentlemen continue their discussion for some time yet as true night falls around them and the Triskelion.