Log:Breach of Contract

2015/03/30 Breach Paragon 1

Welcome to The Towers.

It's shiny and new here, no matter what part of the district you're in unless you run directly out of town and into one of the suburbs being assimilated by Colonial Bay's urban sprawl. Right this minute, we find ourselves in one of the glittering glass and steel office towers erected just a few years ago. The corporate drones are filing out after a long day of work, the janitorial staff haven't yet arrived for the overnight cleaning shift, and security is busy locking the building down for the long, boring interim in between the never overlapping shifts.

Well, most of the security team is doing this. One man stands behind the central security (and reception!) desk in the building's lobby. He has his arms folded neatly across his chest and his posture is ramrod straight as his orange-visored gaze sweeps over the drones escaping from the HIVE OF THE FUTURE. Everyone, security included, avoids him and his psuedo-camouflage, apparently lightly armored self as he surveys the scene.

The camera is kind enough to pan around the lobby, showing floating holographic panes in various positions, displaying 24 hour news channels, the At-Work Shopping Network, and the Weather Channel. Finally settling into place behind the mirrored orange visor set over most of the lone armored figure in the lobby, you, the viewer, get to see a security memo laid out below the view line of patrons on the opposite side of the desk.

ATTENTION ALL SECURITY PERSONNEL:

Due to threats against Magma Opal Investment Group and its personnel, management has hired Saberline & Sabot to provide additional, "elite" security against the potential for one or more of Colonial Bay's more colorful ruffians to do damage to property, assets, and personnel - both civilian and security - in a fashion more suited to the potential threat. Please assist Rick "Breach" Mason to the best of your ability, but do not endanger your life, particularly if Mr. Mason directs you to do something else. He is here to protect you and everyone else against threats of a level incommensurate with both your pay grade and our normal threat assessment levels.

Thank you and have a pleasant day.

Management

On an unrelated note, Paragon may have been provided information linking Magma Opal Investment Group to Tim Lee's faction of the Triads, ACRO, and Exo-Gen. Certain pieces of evidence in the digital dossier dropped anonymously on her front porch with the morning newspaper may also lead her to suspect Magma Opal of having involvement with Event Horizon.

You don't suppose that's going to be a problem for anyone, do you?

Paragon's a bit too naive to suspect information drop-offs of fowl play. She's just too trusting for that. If mention of all the other groups wasn't suspect enough, Event Horizon's mention in there is enough to spur her to investigate. Politely. For however long that will last.

Which is why the heavy, metal-plated form of Paragon can be picked up on all the security cameras as she lands from what must be orbit on the sidewalk pavement just outside the Towers in a three-point landing. As she straightens up, she adjusts her facing by forty-five degrees to face the doors that lead to the lobby with mechanical precision. Her head pans up slightly as she scans the front of the building with white glowing eyes that shift to a cyan blue as she scans through the building exterior.

All security eyes shift toward the monitors showing Paragon's arrival. There is an awful lot of chatter on the security radio about why one of Colonial Bay's current big heroes is standing outside of the building like that. Paragon probably can't hear that chatter, what she can see is a /LOT/ of security guys standing around security stations or clustering around windows and staring down at her.

She may also see one guy in armor, with a retro-futuristic revolver strapped to one hip, a knife strapped to the other hip, and a /LOT/ of grenades decorating his body. You know, that's a possible thing she might see through all of the tinted glass. He's staring directly at her through the lobby windows, by the way.

Breach may have just said something on the radio. Certainly his mouth just moved like he was talking to someone. Digital data scrolls through Paragon's HUD from the dossier she received earlier. Things start to get highlighted inside of the building as key words and equipment are recognized. Interesting pieces of data should be contained on the 12th floor's server farm, incriminating files could be contained in archives on the third and/or fifth floors.

Verily the building is practically a dragon's treasure hoard of black market material. Or so Paragon has been led to believe.

Paragon's head drifts further upward as she scans and processes. Her HUD highlights the third and fifth floors as primary places to investigate, with the 12th being of secondary interest. Her head pans back down to the windows to see what looks like a sizeable resistance force piling up inside. So much for the polite route?

Her eyes adjust in size, shrinking in diameter as they focus on the armored guy with all the armaments. It's a shame she never installed lipreading software. She adds it to the list of tweaks and upgrades she needs to have Allison add the next time she's in for maintenance.

A front door entrance could get messy. But instead of smashing a way forward, the armored figure begins to step backwards a few steps. It might seem like a preparation to ram the building. But she's just considering whether to jump straight to the 3rd floor and work her way up from there looking for evidence, or to ask the lead security person to politely come out and chat.

Breach somehow seems to bristle as Paragon steps backward. Several of the security guys near the windows back up, most do not. At least five guys draw weapons as they appear to engage in some kind of tough talking. The guy in armor rolls his shoulders as his arms fall from their crossed position over his chest, head rolling to and fro as he stares across the lobby and out the doors at Paragon. It's almost like he's daring her to come charging in.

Weapons drawn. Maybe the intel was right. Why would they draw weapons on a known hero of the city? If she were to go up, it would probably take her too long to find the evidence before they came up to say hello. Which means...front entrance it is.

Paragon starts her walk cycle animation to carry herself to the lobby door and...moves her hand to open it and step inside. Challenge accepted? She seems very placid about it.

"Ma'am, I need to ask you to turn around and leave."

Breach's voice is neutral, but insistent as it booms over the loud speakers as Paragon opens the door. She can probably hear him speaking directly into the microphone at the main desk when she opens the door. His expression is as blank as that on her own armored helmet, probably because he's also sporting a helmet.

The armored man has one hand resting on the butt of his enormous revolver as he speaks. Paragon can probably sense the rolling cloud of unease coming from the non-metahuman security staff in the lobby and the handful of corporate drones standing around the lobby. Some PDAs have come out and started recording the encounter for Internet Fame.

Paragon's head pans from left to right to scan the number of security officers at the ready. Drones encountered. That's a lot of non-metahuman opposition. She feels a little sorry for them. "Greetings, Citizens. I'm Paragon of the Guardians. I'm afraid there's been reports of grave misconduct by your employers at Magma Opal Investment Group. I understand you're merely doing the job you were hired to. So I will give you to the count of 10 to evacuate the premises before I come in."

"There are only two pieces of litigation against Magma Opal Investment Group at this time," counters Breach, "Neither of which could be even remotely construed as "grave misconduct". Your approach, your timing, and your threatening posture, on the other hand, could be construed thus."

Breach removes his hand from the microphone's vicinity. He very casually strolls around the security (and reception!) desk. Flexing two fingers curiously, Breach calmly intones, "Lock down the upper floors. Ensure the V.I.P.s are in secure locations."

Pausing a moment to look around the lobby interior, Breach may be counting civilians in the area. He nods to the security personnel and adds, "Escort the civilians to safety. I will handle the intruder."

No doubt Paragon can hear the crackle of radios lighting up with questions and comments regarding her appearance here. Breach largely seems to ignore it as he stares Paragon down, armored target to armored target. He rests one hand on the butt of his revolver again, his other hand rests on the pommel of his combat knife.

"You further lack a warrant, writ, or other court order indicating permission to be here. Nor have you provided any evidence to suggest probable cause pursuant to Federal Statute 386.04.17-b of the U.S. Metahuman Registry Compliant Heroism Act of 2022."

Shifting his weight, Breach stares Paragon down before intoning, in his best ED-209 voice, "This is your final polite request to exit the premises, ma'am."

Paragon looks over her shoulder at the front door, then back to Breach. Her eyes blink off and on a few times. "My approach through the front door is the same approach any citizen would take. Timing, maybe after hours is ill-timed. I will not harm your V.I.P.s or anyone if necessary." Or at all. Most likely, they won't be able to harm her.

"There's is reasonable grounds to investigate given provided evidence pursuant to the Metahuman Samritan Act of 2039, that has been submitted to Starguard." Of course, it's really up to the courts on a case-by-case basis which act will apply. And submitted doesn't mean processed. This could be a legal stalemate. Or a long legal battle of who was acting within their rights. "I will allow civilians to clear this area before continuing my investigation." Aside from the motion to look over her shoulder, her stance has been perfectly still. No shifting or fidgeting. Her balance is even on both feet and her hands at her side, although the are balled into loose fists.

Security staff in the lobby are giving Paragon a wide berth as they round up the handful of civilians trying to record the Epic Legal Battle of History going on in the lobby. Everyone, civilian and security alike, ends up outside as Breach and Paragon enter a prolonged period of perfect stillness and silence.

When the last civilian has exited the building, Breach coldly states, "If you continue to aggress on this property, I will be forced to incapacitate you."

Pausing a moment, Breach purses his lips.

"The only Paragon with whom I am familiar is suspected of having killed the heroine Whisper. Do you suppose there's still a CrimeStoppers reward for bringing you in?"

Paragon's eyes dim at the news of a heroine's death. "That doesn't sound like something someone named Paragon would do." That Paragon, the one who was probably a madman or woman driven to be the Paragon of the human race through whatever means, was before her time. Well before most people's time, probably. "Since my systems were reset and my programming damaged, I have not been responsible for anyone's deaths." Before that? Well. "I do not know any heroine named Whisper, and there is no reward on my head that I know of."

It doesn't get answered as the last civilian leaves the building. Paragon raises a hand to point a finger at Breach. "You are aiding a criminal agency with ties to the Triads, ACRO, Exo-Gen, and Event Horizon, who -has- killed people." With weapons from ACRO, probably working with geneticists from Exo-Gen to propagate the metahuman race, and...funding from the Triads? Paragon still hasn't worked all that out. She's given fair warning about surrendering. So now, she lowers her hand to her side and starts to step forward. "If your employers were on the up and up, they wouldn't need to hire so many guards."

"Convenient excuse," is Breach's flat reply to Paragon's rebuttal that she hasn't been responsible for any deaths since twenty-six-six-six-six-six-ZZZZZZZTch. He looks unmoved by her continuing protestations.

In a flash, Breach's gun hand comes up from his holster to his chest. Breach palms one of the tactical black cylinders held on the muddy brown harness over his chest, a grenade pin and spoon assembly *tink**tink*ing against the floor more or less in tandem with the black grenade hurtling across the lobby toward Paragon's face.

As Paragon walks forward, her head tilts down to the dropping pin. She's a bit slow to process. Old tech. Allison has been yelling at her to upgrade her processors. Paragon's head pans up as the black grenade impacts right in her face with an impressive explosion of smoke that completely envelopes her. But there's still that heavy clanking of armored bootsteps steps that don't skip a beat. And out of the swirl of smoke and dust, Paragon is still marching along, completely unphased.

"I was hoping to take the elevators instead of smashing my way through the building and scaring any late night employees. But I suppose since you are assaulting me, I will have to deal with you first. Please notify me immediately if you wish to surrender." She sounds...awfully civil and sympathetic given she just took a grenade to the face. Her foot steps pick up the pace as she leaps at Breach with not a fist, but a single finger aimed at jabbing forward in a downwards towards his collarbone. With just a tactical pen, most people can be disabled and brought to their knees if you know just the right sensitive spot to press on.

Most of that smoke sizzles and crackles, illuminating the lobby area with blue-white electricity. Shock Grenades, don't you know, disperse dense clouds of what 1 out of 5 dentists believe to be a thunderstorm. Unmoved by Paragon's lack of reaction to the stun grenade, Breach shifts his weight just so.

Paragon sails toward him and Breach neatly side-steps her. Both of Breach's hands reach backward to grab the edge of the reception (and security!) desk before he kicks his feet up and outward. Nimbly, Breach swings up into a handstand atop the desk and promptly launches himself into the air above Paragon.

"You are not authorized by any authority, civil, military, or judicial, to be on these premises. My services have been retained to prevent meta-level threats like yourself from causing injury to the staff or data contained on these premises. You may end this by simply leaving."

Landing neatly behind Paragon, Breach attempts to grab her roughly by the shoulders and heave her to the ground. This probably is not going to work as intended.

A horrendous screech fills the air as Breach quite improbably drags Paragon backward a few inches before simply throwing her to the ground. There's a tremendous metallic *KLANK* as Paragon hits the ground and bounces once, apparently no worse for wear.

"Surrender now."

Leverage is all it really takes to get Paragon off her feet. She's heavy, yes, but not balanced. Tip her ennough, and the momentum builds from there. She's left flat on her back, with the nice tile flooring probably more scuffed than she is. Her eyes blink off and on a few times as she tries to process her new position. She lifts her legs and rocks back onto her shoulders as she plants her hands on the ground by her head, then kippups to her feet with surprising agility for a lumbering suit of armor.

"I appreciate you doing your job and using non-lethal force, but if the leads are true, then this company is a danger to the city," she states calmly as she turns around to face Breach. "I will power down to meet you on equal footing, given your equipment." She has a sense of honor, after all, and Breach isn't exactly some villain terrorizing the city actively. Her arm cocks back.

Paragon's arm shoots forward in an uppercut into Breach's gut. Not permanently damaging, but certainly enough to take the wind out of most people's sails.


 * WHUMP*

Breach is actively knocked upward and slightly backward by the impact of Paragon's fist with his mid-section. The Undead Soldier's body bows around her fist, helmet *klunk*ing off of her armored forearm. He lands on his feet, basically in basic anatomical drawing pose. Somehow his posture is ramrod straight as soon as he's free of Paragon's punishing fist.

"You still have not demonstrated possession of any reputable intel," notes Breach.

There is a pneumatic hiss and a distant *wht* that is immediately followed by Breach sailing upward and backward across the lobby. Spinning in mid-air to right himself, Breach abruptly falls to his feet again and sizes Paragon up from across the room.

Paragon's eyes narrow slightly from her wincing at striking the security officer. She feels bad as soon as she does it. Seeing him recover so fast from the attack causes her eyes to expand in appreciation and a measure of surprise.

Watching Breach sail back and hold his ground, Paragon studies him in return. "I can provide you with the evidence I was given to investigate, if that will help you to cooperate," she intones politely.

"Evidence first, decisions later," comes Breach's flat reply. He continues to hold his position, waiting patiently for signs of what turn this night is going to take next.

Paragon tilts her head slightly in a single ticking motion to transfer evidence wirelessly. "Here are the files. You'll find them on your PDA if you accept the transfer."


 * PING*

Breach attempts to access the files. Instead he inadvertantly crashes... Something. Paragon gets the impression something in Breach's suit just went offline. He fumbles around with his PDA and suit a bit whilst Mailer-Daemon-tan pops up on Paragon's network to merrily inform her that her file transfer request has been denied due to Internet AIDS.

"Have you...updated your qOS lately?" Paragon asks helpfully.

"Don't start with me too," complains Breach. His suit abruptly comes back online with a faint sizzle of electricity. Breach swats at something before the suit seems to return to its previous silent operation. At least it didn't require a fire extinguisher this time.

Paragon's eyes dim. "I'm just trying to help. My system may be more up to date than yours," said Paragon never, "and it's causing transfer conflicts. Go to Settings, General, Software Update, and click Install now. It will have to reboot once it's finished." Paragon, your friendly neighborhood technical help line.

"It's... It's a brand new PDA. The last one died in a fire," replies Breach. He pulls his PDA out of an actually camouflaged storage pocket and violently shakes it around. Abruptly it *DING*s again and information pops up in his HUD.

The information provided to Paragon starts to scroll on Breach's HUD with the strange data she was supplied with. "I'll give you some time to read it," Paragon says kindly as she folds her arms over her flat chestplate and waits.

Breach falls terribly silent for long moments as data scrolls across the interior of his helmet. For reasons he will never truly understand, Breach utterly fails to notice several important clues in the digital dossier. Important dates, names, and event references go unnoticed by Breach's critical(?) eye. What Breach does notice, however, is a trend in the files' metadata.

"So... Paragon, was it? How did you come by this information, did you say?"

Paragon's eyes blink off and on. "It was delivered anonymously to my home." She sounds like that's perfectly acceptable and trustworthy. Sharp as a hammer, this one.

Breach's brow furrows under his helmet as he notices some inconsistencies. He works his jaw a few times before he calmly states, "You have been had."

A pause in processing. Paragon's eyes flicker a few more times in the meantime. "What do you mean, had?"

"Deceived. Tricked. Fooled. Hoodwinked. Swindled. Conned," replies Breach in a flat tone. He folds his arms across his chest as he eyeballs Paragon from across the lobby.

Paragon's eyes dim and those perfect circular lights flatten on the top to form half circles. "I know what had means," she answers flatly as her upper half of her eyes. "I meant, how can you be sure?"

"My first clue was time-date stamps," comments Breach. He starts to circle Paragon, keeping his distance still - she hits like a freight train, after all - while he simultaneously watches and lectures. "Followed quickly by the file extensions. Together they didn't make any sense."

Pausing again, now framed by television screens hawking useless Shop-At-Work junk, Breach regards Paragon coolly. He folds his arms behind his back instead of across his chest as that blank, mirrored orange gaze fixes itself on Paragon's even blanker metal helm.

"Several of these files include events that are more recent than the files themselves should be. That's probably the biggest tell."

Paragon's head pans to track Breach. Only when her neck has reached its farthest range of motion does her body adjust its facing. And then, back to head tracking. "So, are the files dated before the supposed events listed?" She starts to scrub through the data to start checking time stamps and correlating them with the dates listed in the file's text.

Regarding Paragon neutrally, Breach rolls his shoulders as he starts to pace toward the security (and reception!) desk. He pauses when he's in front of it again and twists to watch Paragon in silence for several seconds.

"Isn't that what I said?"

Paragon's eyes dim as she finishes processing the data, now that she knows what to look for. "Oh," she says hollowly in embarrassment, then rubs the back of her head in a very sheepish gesture. "I'm very sorry for this intrusion...you are correct. I have been had."

"It... Happens?" offers Breach. He doesn't want to be a complete jerk, after all, you never know when super-hero back up might come in handy. Shifting his weight absently, Breach adds, "Sorry for the, uh, shock cylinder."

"The what? Oh, that. Water under the bridge." Did Paragon already forget about that? "And I'm sorry for the gut punch," she says sweetly. "And for coming into your job and making things difficult. You are a dedicated employee. I think your employer will be happy," she praises.

"Protecting the place from meta-level threats is my job," comes Breach's simple reply. He shrugs absently at the gut punch remark, as though he may have actually forgotten about it. Breach keeps his arms folded neatly behind his back as he observes Paragon thoughtfully. "But seriously. Why do you have a supervillain's name?"

Paragon's head draws back a bit in surprise. "A supervillain? Why would a supervillain be named Paragon? But...oh, you mean when I was called Unit 3?" She assumes he's talking about her time under Mechaneer's control.

[[Media:Bad Company in Colonial Bay]]