14304/Those of Dubious Morality

Those of Dubious Morality
Date of Scene:	12 April 2022
Location:	The South Dakota Badlands
Synopsis:	Agent retrieval post mission.
Cast of Characters:	Phobos, Black Widow (Romanoff)

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Phobos has posed:
    The sky is a sweeping canvas of night peppered with the sparkle of stars high up in the sky. No illumination of the world hides the constellations, no wash of an urban landscape conceals the beautiful tableau of the Milky Way so high above. It's a beautiful sight when so far out in the wilderness and away from the city that one can enjoy. And out here, several hours after midnight, it offers some respite to what happened here.
    The smoke from the armored cars still rose from the broken vehicles, slender tendrils of black reaching up to the heavens from the damaged equipment. They weren't alone. An old C-130 transport plane rested on the air strip that had been carved out of the side of the canyon. Likely with a high powered beam weapon considering the cleanness of the lines. Above the temporal optic cloak had been reduced to torn slivers that fluttered in the wind above the base that had been operational only this morning.
    It would have been a difficult nut to crack. The system's artificial intelligence automatically adapted to possible points of ingress and altered their security sub routines in real time. Then they deployed security to the trouble points and the mercenaries who had been on duty were trained not to question orders, but fulfill them instantly.
    It meant only one operative could make insertion and they'd only have one minute and twenty seven seconds to eliminate the aerial vehicle to prevent extraction. Luckily the objective was met.
    From there it was sweep and clear, the clock was ticking, sensors would trip and go off line, but seemingly in a random order. The mercenaries were deployed by most went off line without a statement on comms. It had been like a phantom had rushed through the headquarters of the Advanced Idea Mechanics base and before they were able to activate the drone units the master computer was offline.
    And then the message was sent. A simple 'all clear'.
    Which left that air strip silent. A few bodies were upon the tarmac, those disabled vehicles. The large opening door to what had likely been a cruise missile of some sort was partially ajar, and the hidden entryway into the base was blasted open partially and still smouldered.
    The only thing that still moved was a wild jack rabbit that sniffed at the edge of the runway. And a figure in black with a faceless helmet, crouched on the twisted wing of the C-130, a sword in hand as he waited for the Quinjet's arrival.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
As the two words came in, the Quinjet launched, engines tilted for the vertical takeoff then twisting once it was high enough in the air. The craft quickly gained speed and it was less than three minutes when it came to a hover over the site. There were a few agents on board, just in case things went sideways. Not likely now that things were resolved but there could be other surprises so SHIELD always made sure their bases were covered.

"Are you kidding me?" came a harsh whisper from one of the agents on board as the visual of the situation was shared on a viewscreen. The smoking wreckage. The carnage of what had been a working base not that long ago. The dark figure crouched on the wing of that giant plane, dark and anonymous.

"Who the hell is that?" came another comment.

Then there was a sharp word from the senior agent on board. "Cut the chatter. We have a man to pick up."

Natasha was in her SHIELD uniform, which wasn't much different from her usual one except it actually had the patches on the upper arms to indicate she worked for the agency. She was standing at the back of the quinjet, having not bothered with a jump seat for that short of a flight. "Take us down."

The quinjet's engines were shifted and it lowered toward the ground a distance away from that oversized plane. The ramp lowered once they were on the ground, the engines still running. "Wait here."

And with that, she walked down that ramp then calmly across the distances toward the waiting figure, leaving the men in the quinjet free to chatter again if they chose.

Phobos has posed:
    The team was quiet in the back of that cargo bay, even as Natasha was making her descent down the ramp. Though there was a measure of tension to them even as one of the crew started to lower some raised seats and moved to make room for the incoming agent. The tech specialist, Ramirez, stepped to the edge of the bay after Romanoff was already walking on the tarmac. He stood there, one hand resting on the doorframe.
    "Bet it's a robot." He says over his shoulder.
    "What makes you say that?" Agent Jimmy Tan glanced over.
    "Everything's getting mechanized these days. Drones. Robots. That..." He points at the figure in black now standing on the wing of that ruined airplane. "Is gonna replace us. We'll be in the bread line soon enough, mark my words, man."
    "Uh huh,"
    But the voices of the other agents likely fade from Natasha's perception as she closes that distance. The slim figure drops from the wing and lands with a light thip-thap of those boots lighting in the dust, kicking up some small clouds. The blade slips to the side and into a sheath along his back, whispering home without a sound as he awaits her.
    Then when she draws near he lifts a hand to wave.
    Which has Agent Tan commenting, "Do robots wave?"
    "They've been known to, man. They've been known to."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
From behind, there was no way to see her expression. Which allowed Natasha that freedom to smile when the figure jumped off the wing, from a height most people wouldn't be leaping off, to land and give that wave. She didn't shake her head, not wanting to give anything to the nosy agents back in the quinjet who were, no doubt, theorizing even as she continued her walk to close that distance.

When she was about six feet away, she stopped. He would see her gaze shift over him, checking for any signs of injury. Then she looked back to that helm which showed her nothing but her own reflection. The smile was there for the mystery figure. "You seem to have made quite the mess." She glanced at the destruction around them then back to him. "Everything go alright?"

Phobos has posed:
    There were scuffs, new impact marks on some of the sub-surface of the material that solidified parts of it, but nothing broke through. A burn mark mars his left wrist, but beyond that the armor seems intact.
    When he answers it's not on comms, just the modulated voice that robs him of inflection. Tech that intercepts what the individual says and counters it with perfectly replicated reverse soundwaves, then an AI recreates what was being said instantly and uses it in its own modulated neutral tone out the speakers of the helmet.
    <<Insertion was clean.>> He turns to the side, looking back toward the entrance. <<Security was prominent. But recon data was right. Their initial reaction was small. They were expecting further incursions and saved the bulk of their forces as reserve. When they realized I was the only intruder near the end they let their people off the chain. But it was decided by then already.>>
    That mirrored mask reflects her image back to her. And no further words come from him for now. His body language is controlled. His stance is perfectly at ease. But she might catch a slight opening of his left hand, wrist turning five degrees toward her. A desire to reach out and touch. But held in check.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"They didn't figure it would be possible for one person. Unless it was a very loud arrival such as Thor or Iron Man. A failure on their part." Since they had someone who could do a quiet entry and still do levels of damage like they were seeing.

Natasha glanced at that hand, giving him a small smile that was more private. "Looks like the suit held up well. Though that wrist is a concern." She motioned to the arm, then reached out her hand to catch his and pull the arm up. Simply so she could examine the burn mark more clearly. "This actually made it through? What did this" It was hard to tell with the scorching if it was just some of the material was gone or that the flesh underneath was also affected.

"Good that recon was efficient. No other surprises? And were you able retrieve your secondary objective?" Which would be to clone their computers on a drive but that hadn't been expected to be a success.

Phobos has posed:
    <<That's what I'm thinking.>> Is the modulated response. Not a robot's voice, but like a completely neutral individual nonplussed by anything around them. As if the world didn't affect them. In some studies the groups who had tested the tech reported it to be even more disturbing since it created the image of a trooper who blithely went about their duties. That was likely seen here.
    Then he held the wrist up and turned it on the side to present it to her showing the damage. It looked like it got through to the wrist, for his skin is exposed and there was an angry burn mark. <<Control console while enacting that secondary objective.>>
    He brushed a thumb over it and then let her look as she would while he answered. <<Inserted drive, it worked as advertised but then the system shut down and tried to purge the operators in the room. Grabbed the drive before they could blast it but got this for my trouble.>>
    Then he turned his head, mirrored helmet looking toward the quinjet. <<How did it look from the control center's end?>>

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
She still was holding the back of his hand to help support it while looking at that burn mark. "If you want, we can have a medic look at that when we get back." Not that she expected him to. Knowing who was behind the mask and his abilities, she knew it would be gone by the next day. If there was one power might be called jealous of, it was that advanced healing. It was so handy in this line of work.

She gave a tiny squeeze to the back of his hand before letting go so he could drop his arm back to his side. "We'll need R&D to examine why that got through. Up the fire proof elements possibly." At his question, she gave a nod. "From what control said, it was quite impressive. They are happy with the feed from your helmet. Although they did lose you once or twice inside. Guessing there were some underground bunker areas that were shielded." It was more a statement, not question. His debriefing would happen once he was back.

"I will say you have made quite the impact on the agents in the Quinjet. Lots of questions and theories. So be prepared to be bombarded when we get onboard."

She tilted her head very slightly. "How are you though? Off the record."

Phobos has posed:
    <<I'm good.>> Comes the voice, no inflection. Just the neutral automaton answering.
    But then he lifts his head slightly, <<It felt like a puzzle that had to be solved. And I was able to solve it.>> Then he starts to walk in the direction of the quinjet, footsteps quiet as he falls into step with her.
    Then that voice is heard again as he says. <<I think.>> A pause is put in there. And she likely realizes that he's already learned how to game the modulated voice. Giving that pause more weight since he's consciously making it hold. Then he adds, <<Some of the people working there were conscripts.>>
    Another pause. <<But they had conditioning making them fight.>>
    He leaves it at that as they get closer to the jet, its engines still whirring with that high pitched whine, ready to take off at a moment's notice. The other agents in the cargohold lift their hands. "Welcome back Agent Roboto."
    But Agent Tan shakes his head, "That name's not going to stick, man."
    "Agent Rom Space Knight?"
    "Where'd you get that from?"
    "Read the reports sometimes, man."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Something we will need to look into immediately. Hopefully the data you retrieved might give us something."

They walked the rest of the way to the Quinjet then up the ramp. Hearing the agents start, Natasha frowned. "That's enough. Cut the chatter. Get in your seats and strap in for the ride back."

She took up her spot still standing by the ramp, reaching up to grab the handle that was provided for that purpose. It seemed she had no intention of taking a seat. She could. She just didn't care to.

"Take us back to base," she called out toward the pilot.