Subj:	 [ffml] [MW] Pandora's Box
Date:	99-11-28 12:06:45 EST
From:	agover@midmich.cc.mi.us (Aaron Gover)
Reply-to:	ffml@onelist.com
To:	ffml@onelist.com (FFML)

From: Aaron Gover 

	Hours passed as Vincent moved further and further down into the 
earth. Rock strata of ages gone by lined the walls, and every so often
the fossilized skeleton of some monsterous beast was visible.  Vincent
followed a path that, while not straight, was unmistakably deliberate. 
The further he traveled, the more certain he became that his perception
had been correct -- there was Power here.
	After an unknowable distance, Vincent spotted something that made his
heart skip.  Embossed in the stone, no, embossed in the concrete of the
wall were words in an ancient human script -- as ancient as the war
which damned his race. Five words which made his dark mind race. 
	"Gear Hangar: Two Hundred Meters."
	Such a find would take ten, maybe twenty, years off his machinations. 
He raced down the corridor towards the hangar. When he got there, he was
not disappointed.  Dozens of the ancient metal goliaths lined the walls 
under a thick layer of dust.  Names like "Avenger" and "Punishing Fist"
were inscribed on them, the affectionate names bestowed by pilots whos
bones had long ago been turned to dust.
	Vincent walked among the Gears with a specific target in mind.  In the
ancient war, each legion of Gears had been led by an officer who
commanded a highly advanced Gear called an Omnigear.  He would take that
as his own.  After two hours, he found it.
	With armor plates enameled with a stunningly deep shade of blue, the
ancient weapon stood proudly.  On the left arm was emblazoned the Golden
Phoenix that had been the insignia of the most celebrated human in the
whole war - Malkava.  Which meant this Omnigear had to be... Schmerzen.
Vincent spoke the once-dreaded name aloud. This had been the most feared
weapon in the ancient war, and now it was his!
	Vincent controlled his emotions.  If he didn't keep his head, he could
still fail.  Vincent found the ladder to the cockpit and climbed  in. He
found suprisingly little instrumentation.  After pressing the few
buttons available, he found himself frustrated when nothing happened.
	Then he remembered: Omnigears were supposed to have meshed psychically
with their operators.  Reaching out with his power, he quickly
discovered the psycho-node and attempted to tap in.  Quickly, he
realized that without a battery recharge, such an effort would be
futile.
	Exiting the cockpit, Vincent lept easily to the floor of the 
hangar. He scanned the area until he came upon a directory.  He 
committed the directions to memory and headed towards the main control 
bunker.
	After a walk of nearly half a mile he reached the control room. 
The size of a baseball field, the control room had rows upon rows of 
consoles in front of a centralized command post and a large viewscreen. 
It looked like nothing so much as a church to a dead God of technology. 
A God Vincent was about to restore. Almost instinctively, he began to 
turn knobs and dials. So intent on the reactivation of the systems was 
he, he didn't notice the hulking figure behind him until it was almost 
too late. The only thing that saved him was the starting "whirrrrrrr"
of the gatling gun.
	Vincent dived to his left as the console he had been working at 
disintegrated under a hail of 60-Caliber shells. He continued to roll as
the bladed forelimb of the Guardian slammed into the floor where he had
stood.
	He ducked behind another row of consoles as the hulking 
mechanical predator searched for him.  The thing began to methodically
search and smash any place Vincent could be hiding.
	Guardians were massive machines designed and built to protect these
ancient ruins forever.  Armed with fore and aft 60-caliber machine guns,
a built in mortar, a full array of sensors, and enough blades to kill
with the merest twitch, they were formidable opponents, and would have
made the war even harder to fight had they been built in greater
numbers. As it was, only seven prototypes had been built to guard the
seals that would seal Vincent's race away for eternity.
	Risking a glance over the console, Vincent could read the name
Beltshmeltz on the flank of the machine as it searched the other side of
the room. "Good," Vincent thought to himself, "The earliest prototype --
easier to defeat."
	Epiphany. Vincent realized that if there was a Guardian here, one of
the seals must be here too -- which would also be the reason there was
no power: all of it was being syphoned off by the seal.
	Recalling the layout of the base from memory, Vincent ran for the door
with bullets chasing his steps. He lept from the doorway and head left
towards the reactor room as the doorway eploded behind him, courtesy of
the Guardian's mortar.
	With a mechanical incarnation of death close behind, Vincent headed
deeper into the heart of the ancient complex...

To be continued...

-- 
Aaron Gover, the knight of Faris.
The Grand Bastard of the FFML.
"There's never a flamethrower around when I need one."
(aka aka Vincent Valintine, Professor Daravon)
agover@midmich.cc.mi.us
ICQ: 30189072
http://egads.gzero.org

"Programming today is a race between software
engineers striving to build bigger and better 
idiot-proof programs, and the Universe trying 
to produce bigger and better idiots. So far, 
the Universe is winning." -- Rich Cook 

"The wages of sin is death, but by the time 
taxes are taken out, it's just sort of a 
tired feeling." -- Paula Poundstone

"If guns are outlawed, only outlaws will 
accidentally shoot their children" -- Bumper Sticker

"I have nothing against god, it's his followers 
that I can't stand" -- Bumper Sticker

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Date: Sun, 28 Nov 1999 12:01:11 -0600
From: Aaron Gover 
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