Redemption.

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Redemption.

Post by Blitz on Tue Jun 11, 2013 11:07 am

He had always dreamed of leaving this place, but not like this. He was given 24 hours to prepare and pack his 'things'. As the warden put it, his 'eviction notice'. He had nothing with him, just his basic toiletries and the picture of a woman he had to leave behind. He sat in his bunk in his cramped cell, his head hung low, eyes locked on his hands clasped together. His spindly, weak little arms. They weren't really his. They were the government's. When he was turned into EarthGov's justice system, they replaced all his implants with prisoner-issue crap. He looked down at his arms in disgust, the brittle, skeletal-designed contraptions. Disgust not only for his past synth-junkie actions, but ironically that the arms were such abysmal design. Yverin amputee replacement models. He shuddered, pulling the bright red prison jumpsuit sleeves back over his arms.

The blast door in front of him began to clank, a few bangs were heard as a deep Texan accent rang out,
"Dilenkov! Stand up son, you're ride's here." The warden. It was questionable how a red blooded Texan with a harsh military record somehow became Warden of the eastern europe prison station. Then again, it was probably as much a sentence for him as it was for the convicts. The convict stood and stepped up to the door, it slid open slowly as two men in Guardian suits approached the convict Dilenkov with handcuffs, speaking in Russian,"Come here you suka!" The Warden stepped into the doorway. He was a short man, about 5'7'', he was tanned, heavily built, wearing thick aviators and a campaign hat that cast a shadow over his already covered eyes. He was really pushing to fit the stereotype. He let out a harsh bark at the two guards,"Hey! Cut that out, boys. He don't need handcuffs, hell, he ain't gonna need those arms. You hear that, you crazy sum' bitch? You're gettin' upgraded, but don't get all touchy feely on me, son! They're just civilian grade!" Dilenkov nodded, one of the guards shoving him in the shoulder and speaking in broken English, for the Warden's sake,"Move! Go! Medbay, now! You know where."

The convict stumbled out of the door, raising his little hands in front of his eyes, shielding them from the harsh light. He was shoved again, a quick order coming out in Russian,"Davai, suka!" He stumbled again, regaining his balance and walking down the massive corridor. Bloc E-2 was several stories tall, with cells lined up along the walls, automated turrets and cameras swiveling about, and abusive ex-military guards patrolling each floor. And it was just one of the detainment blocs on the station. It was maddening, there were no harsh cries or curses from other convicts. Just silence. Dilenkov walked down the long corridor into the elevator with the three men. A guard punched the button and slid a keycard through the panel on the elevator, the doors shut and it began to move rapidly. Dead silence and the four reached their floor within a minute or two. Another aggressive shove, and the convict was on the move again.

He was forced into another cramped room, shrugging off the soldier's grip from his shoulder aggressively, he glared back at the guard as he returned the glare. The guard backed out of the room and Dilenkov turned his head towards the surgical table, three sunken-eyed doctors staring at him blankly, several different implants on carts such as a pair of eyes, arms with full synthetic flesh, and many other little doodads. He climbed up into the surgical table as one of the doctors pulled the anesthetic mask over his face. He focused on the bright light above him as he slowly faded out of consciousness.

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Re: Redemption.

Post by Blitz on Wed Jun 12, 2013 5:56 am

It was a routine procedure, only the customer wasn't the usual synth-junkie or gangster. A military doughboy type, wanted illegal military grade implants that his CO wouldn't requisition him. All Volodymyr had to do was make sure it was well hidden.

He accepted the man into his place of work, an abandoned warehouse in the Kyyiv lowers. The man wore a casual suit, a trenchcoat, and a trilby.
"Lieutenant, I just got your implants only a couple of hours ago, chuvak. I'll prepare them, but are you ready?", the criminal inquired. The hardened military man nodded,"Ofcourse I fucking am, let's get this over with. I don't want to stay here longer than I have to." Volodymyr led him into the secret entrance, into the hidden basement where he did his dirty work. While the outside was dirty and polluted, he kept the hidden drug labs and medical bay in pristine condition.

He directed the man onto an operating table, there were several tools bathed in alcohol sitting around it. Above the surgical table hung three mechanical arms, each with their own interchangeable toolsets. The lieutenant glanced warily at the machine that hung over the table, climbing in slowly. Volodymyr walked up to a panel in the wall, holding his hands out,
"Hold on, let me get sterile. Also, strip into your boxers while you're at it."

The panel opened up, four little arms with intricate tools reached out around his wrists. They buzzed and whirred, pulling off Volodymyr's synthetic hands and retracting them inside the panel. They took out another set of turquoise blue hands, like a surgeons gloves, and began to wire them onto his wrists. Volodymyr hummed to himself as the lieutenant disrobed and sat back into the surgical table. Suddenly, a few chirps were echoed throughout the room, distinctly different from the whirring of the mechanical arms.

The criminal looked up and glanced around, then he looked down at himself and cursed. He reached down with his newly attached left hand, taking a phone from his pocket and raising it to his left ear. The whirring of the right hand being replaced drowned out some of his conversation. The coarse man's voice became soft,
"Privyet, mosinka... What? What, say again? The noise? I'm working. No, it's fine, I'll call you when I'm done. Hm? Oh, yeah. Potato soup aaannnnd.. Chyort." He walked away from the panel in the wall with his surgical hands, turning towards the lieutenant as he approached the table. "And, steak? We still have those strips from Wednesday? Great, I'll have that. Okay. Bye."

He sets the phone aside and sighs heavily, smiling at the lieutenant. "Let us begin, my friend! Oh, and would you like to sample some of my goods? I cooked up two Bessmertnyye batches since you called." The soldier snorted loudly and stated in a blunt tone,"You know what I payed you to do." Volodymyr shrugs, pulling the anesthetic mask over his face and twisting the valve on the airtank,"Have it your way, see you when it's done."

The man's eyes fluttered, slowly shutting as his breathing became very relaxed. One of the arms descended above the soldiers skull and scanned it. A screen popped down from the ceiling, showing a brief scan of the soldier's skull and brain. He nods to himself, everything was healthy and ready for operation. He picked up the bulky microchip off the operating table, holding it up. It was expensive, but this operation would more than cover the costs. Quite a piece of technology, it was an outlawed Havok piece of tech, "developed" from the Guardian TAC-NET Combat Implant®. But Volodymyr wasn't thinking about that, he could feel himself getting itchy. He looked over to his lab across the room, sheathed in glass and plastic-coverings over the doors.

He thought to himself that he was going to have to test the new batch anyway, and it's not like he changed much with the original formula. Besides, he focused better when he was on it. He set the microchip down and moved across the hall, his footsteps echoing off the concrete walls. Walking up to a little centrifuge, he punched in a code to release a vial. The centrifuge stopped and spat out a vial with an orange-yellow serum. He took the vial, and picked up an auto injector. He slid the vial into the injector, then he reached under his arm. With expert precision and practice he poked the syringe into a permanent intravenous porthole located on the left side of his ribcage. He pressed down the plunger on the autoinjector.

He set the injector aside and took a deep breathe, he could feel the drug taking effect. He groaned heavily as he walked back into the operating room,
"That's good shit, as usual Volod, you outdid yourself. Ha!" One of the mechanical arms was delicately working around the soldier's head, when Volodymyr came around he saw that his machine had already shaven the man's military buzz off. His nerves started to get tingly, he felt a little woozy. He thought that perhaps he had put too much of the new juice into this batch, but he quickly waved that thought off. He had work to do. He picked up a scalpel and held the side of the man's head. "Time to get busy."

...

He awoke in the corner with a start, his phone chirping loudly. His face was deathly pale, mucus and foam dripping from the side of his mouth. His eyes were heavily sunken in, and he was sweating profusely, and he had a pounding headache. He panted heavily, his eyes darting around the room, his thoughts racing,"What happened? What's going on?" He reached into his pocket to take out his phone, as he raised his left hand he dropped his phone. It was covered in blood. He raised his arms as he looked over his body. He was doused in blood. He stood to his feet as quickly as he could. He picked up the phone, his body shaking as he answered. It was Maja. She sounded worried,"Volodymyr! It's been 10 hours! What the hell is going on?" Volodymyr stumbled to the center of the room, panting heavily and slurring his words,"Baby I.. don't kn--." His throat tightened, his eyes were locked on the surgical table. It was horrid.

His skull was swiped clear in half, the brain was perfectly intact, laying on a cart. The military grade chip was sticking out of it, one of its corners jammed into the top of the cerebral tissue. But that wasn't the end. His arms, gone, replaced with large, bulky, military-issue synthetic arms he was saving for another client. The same with the legs, the eyes, ears. His chest ripped open, the heart replaced, several other abdominal and chest cavity implants jammed into him. His ears began to ring, Maja's voice trailed off as he dropped the phone. He fell to his knees and began to heave, vomiting on the floor. He collapsed onto his side and began to shake. Whether he was convulsing from the bad batch or shaking in shock was hard to tell. As he came back to reality slowly, he heard heavy footsteps above him. Intruders. He knew it, no one ever came into this warehouse unless they were his clients.

He slowly pulled himself up, tripping himself up and running into the surgical table. It flipped over, the now more machine than man body fell to the floor with a heavy thud. The limbs and other bodyparts rolled across the room on the wheeled medical carts.

He stepped up to a panel in the wall, and peeled it back, tossing it aside. A keypad was revealed, and he typed into it as quickly as he could. His shaking hands messed up the code three times, he cursed profusely as he had to hold his right hand steady with his left to type in the code. Suddenly the whole wall peeled back and slid to the right, another secret door.

The inside of the vault was mostly money and very illegal augments, mostly from Havok. He looked to the left, a rifle rack was secured against the wall. He stepped up and took a light machinegun off of it, taking a magazine as well. His unsteady hands worked to load the magazine into the machine, racking the bolt when he did. The footsteps centered around the secret doorway across the room from him, and a loud explosion deafened Volodymyr. He took cover in the doorway of the vault, spraying the machinegun at the stairwell into the hidden basement. Smoke poured out from the stairs, large silhouettes stomping through. He screamed loudly,
"Suka--suka! Do you know who I am?!"

He was unsure if he was actually hitting anyone, but he was definitely receiving return fire. The briefcases of money behind him rattled as they were riddled with bullet holes, but he continued to fire into the smoke pouring out. He had become completely deaf from the gunfire in the small basement, and he swiveled the gun barrel left to right as it began to melt at the tip.

Suddenly, his right arm was hit. The arm became disjointed at the elbow, sparking wires and leaking hydraulic fluid frayed out from the destroyed arm. He collapsed to the ground, the shock of his body hitting the floor knocking the wind out of him. The machinegun clattered to the floor, and all at once the gunfire stopped. There was a pause, and at last there was silence. A few muffled voices spoke out,
"Jesus Christ, this guy's a fucking psycho. This is fucked up." "Move in and secure him! I think he's still alive!" Three armed men stepped into the vault, weapons raised at the dazed Volodymyr.

He didn't resist nor did he say a word as he was restrained and dragged out of the sinful basement. He would never forgive himself. There was no chance to be absolved of his sins, of all of them. The gang life, murders, drug smuggling, the augment black market. But the greatest sin of all?

He had failed her.


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Re: Redemption.

Post by Blitz on Thu Jun 13, 2013 5:30 pm

Volodymyr slowly awoke to the sounds of muffled footsteps and murmuring. He opened his eyes, the warden stood over him with his arms crossed, a firm scowl across his face. His eyes trailed down to his arms, civilian grade synthetics. They almost looked human, but Volodymyr's experienced eye could spot the mechanical bits easily. The back of his head was sore, his head was pounding infact. He looked back up dazily to the warden. "Well, convict, operation's over. I was nice enough to requisition another Intrepid medical microchip to plug into your brain. Better 'preciate it, doesn't look good to be asking for that nerdy crap. Now get up, your ride's here." Volodymyr was suddenly grabbed on either side, and pulled onto his feet. He was unable to walk, it became apparent to the guards pulling him up, so they dragged him. Volodymyr just hung his head low, staring in a dazed state at the floor. He was taken onto an elevator, and sent down into the hangar. It was a huge compartment full of many dropships, but it was dead silent. They were the only ones there, save for a few guards patrolling. A smaller dropship was prepared, just for his trip to the UNS Constellation. The guards began to drag him up the ramp into the dropship, when the warden called out. "Hold on there! I ain't done with him yet." 

The guards stop, dropping Volodymyr, who stood up very carefully, getting used to his new implants. A sudden firm grip on his left shoulder spun him around forcibly, the warden in his reflective aviators pulled Volodymyr down to his level. He spoke with a smug look on his face,"I know what you're thinking, boy. That this is your slimey little piece of shit's way out of his sentence. Well, before I give you your final 'gift', I'd like to give you something to remember me by." Volodymyr reared his head back, as the warden held up a large chrome collar. "Havok-tech inmate collar. It was outlawed a year ago under some pussy human rights act, but I still keep a few around for scum like you. I don't know why they picked you, Vladimir, and frankly I don't care. But I'll be damned if I let you off the hook that easy."

He very gently secured the collar around Volodymyr's neck, who tried to lean away in protest as far as possible without actually fighting back. "We're just gonna' put this here around your neck and--there! Perfect. Hey uhh... what's your name?" He turned his head and pointed to one of the guards, snapping his fingers at him. The man stepped up and became to proclaim his name loudly,"Warden, sir! Officer Pytr Pe--" The warden suddenly cut him off,"Nevermind son, it don't matter, just give me the remote I lended to ya'." The guard nodded firmly and pulled out a remote, handing it to the warden, who let go of Volodymyr. Volodymyr stepped away, glaring at the warden. Blood dripped from his open mouth as he panted heavily, one of his hands reaching up to grip the tight collar, trying to loosen it as if it were a very constrictive necktie.

The warden smirked, holding up the little remote,
"A demonstration. If you don't do what your commanding officer or captain tells you to do." He presses a button, suddenly Volodymyr felt a powerful shock course throughout his body. His knees buckled and he collapsed onto the ground, convulsing. His hands curled up in an awkward, inhuman pose in front of his torso as his mouth hung open, wanting to scream but his voice was frozen by the pain. After ten excruciating seconds, the shock stopped. Volodymyr let out a terrible cry of pain, shuddering as he crossed his arms over his chest. The warden chuckled lowly, kneeling down in front of Volodymyr, twisting the remote in his hand,"They can press that button for whatever reason they choose, son, there ain't gonna be no pussy hippies out there to write some legislation up to save ya'. And trust me, when you got power like this, you'll use it for whatever reason. Oh and uh.." He paused, laughing quietly again. "There's another reason the collar's illegal now. It's an explosive, son. Let's say if you do something REALLY radical, like eh.. if you try to take up arms against your new employer.. well.." He shows Volodymyr the remote, flipping a protective case off of a red button below a blue button with a lightning bolt going through it. His thumb closes in on the red button, Volodymyr's eyes widening as he does. He then slams the protective case back over the red button with his thumb, making an audible popping sound with his lips.

He laughs again, standing up.
"Ohhh--phew. I love these things. Alright. Get him on the ship, he's late. Make sure his documents--and this! Are given to the right authorities." He holds up the remote to the guard he had just taken it from, who takes it and declares,"Yes sir." The guards drag the 'shocked' convict onto the ramp of the dropship, throwing him into a seat and buckling him in. As the engines of the dropship began to whine, and the ramp began to ascend, the warden called out,"You'll always be a convict, Dilenkov. Remember that."

FOR YOUR EYES ONLY
PENAL REASSIGNMENT DOCUMENT.
UNS CONSTELLATION.


CREW MEMBER NAME: VOLODYMYR GRIGORIY DILENKOV
DATE OF BIRTH: SEPTEMBER 27th, 2071.
PLACE OF BIRTH: ODESSA, EARTH GOV EASTERN EUROPEAN PROVINCE.
EDUCATION: KYIVV INSTITUTE OF MEDICINE.
CRIMINAL RECORD: GANG ACTIVITY, NARCOTICS PRODUCTION, BLACK MARKET AUGMENTATION, FOUR COUNTS MURDER.
PAROLE ASSIGNMENT: MEDICAL, SPECIFIC DUTIES AT CAPTAIN'S/CHIEF OF MEDICAL'S DISCRETION. 
PROCEDURE IF CONVICT IS DISOBEYING ORDERS: ADMINISTER SHOCK.
PROCEDURE OF CONVICT IS MIA: IF CONVICT CANNOT BE LOCATED IN ONE HOUR, TERMINATE PAROLE ASSIGNMENT.

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Re: Redemption.

Post by xeanos on Thu Jun 13, 2013 10:54 pm

Oh, man. This is great. I really want to roleplay with this guy now. Though, I was a bit confused when they blacked out on the table...I guess I'll just have to read it again.
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Re: Redemption.

Post by Blitz on Fri Jun 14, 2013 3:19 am

thank you

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Re: Redemption.

Post by manateeb on Fri Jun 14, 2013 8:35 am

i just wasnt feelin it...
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Re: Redemption.

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