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The Step To The Next Generation; Transformation Quest
Topic Started: May 27 2013, 07:31 PM (261 Views)
Bassolarr
Member Avatar
KING OF THE RING
Monitors
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Semi-Perfect Form

Difficulty: Medium

Location: Planet Avalon

Description:
Write an RP to acquire Semi-Perfect Form (Cell) / Next Gen (Androids).

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The Avalonians are advanced in robotics, rivaled by no one in this art. You've traveled to Avalon seeking upgrades to your body. But the greatest upgrade has just been revealed to you--an experimental neural chip that could compliment and further your power. You must figure out a way to either earn this upgrade, or steal it in cold blood


Reward: +50 all stats, +20 exp, and Semi-Perfect / Next Gen Form

Available: Always



The battle that had ensued between the young Saiyan warrior and the powerful robotic war machine, Rubic, had taken its toll on the metallic warrior. What started off as a straight forward mission to ascertain the location and identity of the warrior—as well as incapacitate and detain him—turned into a brutal exchange of firepower and brute strength the likes of which tested Rubic’s full capabilities in every known regard. The battle was not like the one against the mighty warrior Broli, but rather, it had been one that Rubic had detected a fifty percent chance of victory and had pushed his body to its limits in order to achieve that accomplishment. However, the boy proved to be far, far more powerful than Rubic had been told, the Saiyan’s true power only revealed in the heat of combat.

Once again, Rubic had come across a powerful entity known as a Super Saiyan. Even when utilizing his powerful array of weaponry, from the grenade launcher, to the energy blasts, defensive arrays, mortar strikes, laser ordnance, missiles, and even after the punishing assault from his newly upgraded cannon from Capsule Corporation, the boy still managed to survive and unleash a torrent of attacks in return. It was due to sheer luck that Rubic had not been destroyed—a fact that seemed very inefficient, mind you—and now, the massive metal behemoth lay in his repair and recharge station, his batteries slowly recharging and his missing armor plates, damaged components, missing limbs, and missing head casing were soon being repaired and replaced. The extensive damage done to his person were extreme, necessitating long hours of repair. Because of this, the massive carrier ship, the Codex, was required to leave the planet of Yaidrat and seek solitude and safety within the outer reaches of space. The Codex, after transmitting what had happened in the battlefield, were quickly sent new coordinates for their next destination: Avalon.

The Avalonian government and its people were known in their wide and vast experience in synthetic life forms, specializing in their creation and upgrades. It was there that Rubic’s ship and crew were bound, on orders from the Earth Defense Forces, in order to seek more thorough repairs and upgrades. Apparently, the Avalonian government had been so impressed with Rubic’s skill and expertise that they offered to upgrade some of Rubic’s systems and capabilities with some strange “Next Generation” motive drives and processors. As such, even as Rubic underwent the long and arduous process of repairing his immediate battle damage in the event of an attack by pirates and other enemy units, the Codex made as much speed to Avalon as possible. One thing that did get accomplished before his brutal battle, however, was the powerful technique known as the Instant Transmission; Rubic had learned the technique the day before the battle, and while he could still technically utilize it to get his ship and crew there, it likely would have proved too taxing on his systems during repair procedures.

As such, the crew worked their hardest to ensure their own safety and security due to the fact their primary warrior, Rubic, was currently ‘down and out.’ As such, the crew did what they could to keep the ship running, constantly working to ensure that the ship would not fall apart without Rubic’s constant vigilance over the ship’s systems and maintenance. One particular crewman, however, still managed to find some time for recreation, reading over some of the latest writings on Earth before writing up his own little response. Of course, Rubic knew of the document as it was transmitted to Earth, reading the document over to ensure there was no betrayal or information leak within the document, despite his rather inert state, dozens of repair drones crawling over his metallic body.

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Every day brings a new life into the world, and every night brings another death.  The concept of life and death, every day throughout our childhood and adulthood, is not foreign to those of us that dwell on the planet Earth.  Indeed, the sheer numbers of those that are born every day are staggering, just as the extreme numbers of those that die are equally appalling.  Still, as Joseph Stalin once said, “A single death is a tragedy; a million deaths is a statistic.”  Indeed, where our brains fail to comprehend the vast multitude of deaths and births, we attach a number to it, a cold, unfeeling label upon the masses that come into this world or pass on to the next one.  A single death of a beloved family member is an occasion of great mourning and lament, whereas the death of many soldiers can almost be shrugged away.  There are some that would argue that they grieve for every lost life upon a foreign ground, yet the pain of our warriors and soldiers is only felt for but a moment in time, whereas the death of one particular person can be felt for generations.  During the age of great wars, the early nineteen hundreds to the mid-nineteen hundreds, many nations felt great remorse for a handful of people in that pool of statistics, yet pain was not truly felt for the masses that had lost their lives or their sanity in the Great War.  Whereas a few individuals were mourned, the whole was only acknowledged.  However, writers such as T.S. Elliot brought the pain of others, the faceless statistics, closer to home and mind, allowing those from far off to see the war through another’s eyes.  The pain, lamentation, and suffering of those that were sent to a far off place to fight a war that did not initially involve them would be fully realized by the masses by those that wrote and spoke about them.  War, through these poems and verses, could be seen as a terrible, unnecessary, and tragic idea, so why it is that men and women join the cause and fight against a common enemy?  What spurs a man or woman to pick up a rifle and fight?  The answer, as we analyze Elliot’s writing, is to see just why people take up arms against other people, why war never changes. 
Conflict is a defining moment for any and all individuals.  Conflict and adversity are what shape us as human beings, how we learn to adapt and grow.  Mankind has evolved and progress through the very nature of adversity, constantly beset by newer and newer problems and ideas that must be overcome.  In a way, war and fighting are a type of adversity; from the nomadic tribes that once traveled across Asia, Europe, and the Americas to the great empires of the ancient days, humanity has a history and, perhaps, a predisposition to conflict.  The same way disease and predators thin the herd to prevent over-population, so too is war a method by which our population is kept in check.  If not by a predator’s hand or by a disease’s methods, then by our own actions do we cull the herd.  “Between the idea and the reality,” as Elliot put it, between the thought of conflict and violence to the brutal reality of what has or will happen falls the shadow. 
Very few people would make the immediate connection that war is what defines our young and eager, to prove to their elders that they are, indeed, brave enough to see what the future will hold, even if it is by the barrel of a pistol.  Warfare can be seen as a man’s final journey to understanding adulthood and understanding life itself.  Of course, there are always other ways by which our species manages to mature and grow up in the wide sense of the world, but none so profound as war.  When one meets a military veteran, you do not expect a childish entity in the guise of an adult; you see a man or woman who has seen the worst—and best—that humanity has to offer.  Only five words need to be spoken to reveal just how far a person has come from their childhood days:  “I was in the war.”  During a time of great strife, individuals will either rise to the challenge or slink in the shadows, and violence is no exception to this occasion.  Even if they know they will die, people will fight for what they believe in, be it morals, land, family, or a pocket full of coin.  These instances of adversity define and shape the mentality and perspective of youth into the next generation of adults and people, those that would have a say in the way humanity takes its next step forward.  In a way, war is the ultimate challenge and adversity, where opinions are opposed but respected.  It does not matter why the bullets fly, be it due to racial differences, political agendas, dwindling resources, or just because someone said something about your mother.  In the early twentieth century, this was how young men proved to their fathers that they were, indeed, worthy of being called men, by facing the harshest of realities and adversities:  To stare down a barrel of a rifle and feel no fear, only duty, only honor.  For a young man to show his father, his family, his peers, and his mentors that he knew that it took guts to stand for country, ideals, and civilization.  But for some of those that go to fight, that go to war, they become the hollow men.  “We are the hollow men.  We are the stuffed men.”  Elliot shows the plight of soldiers caught in a war that either misunderstood or understood all too well, the ever present lingering of staying at the precipice of life and death, action and consequence.  “Headpiece filled with straw.”  Their minds stuffed with the lethargic and oppressive finality of death but never knowing the final embrace until the last possible moment.  Even if these individuals returned from the war alive and well, something else died inside their hearts and minds, a realization that progress, science, and thinking had failed, destroyed by the brutalities of a war driven by the advances of science.  Indeed, one might say that many—if not all—of the advances in human culture were initially started by one thing:  How can I kill another person with greater swiftness, efficiency, or brutality.  The invention of the spear was brought about to hunt prey and slay enemy tribal warriors.  A bow was made to do so even swifter and with greater ease and distance.  The knife and the sword were invented to rip at the hides of animals or drain the lifeblood of an enemy with swiftness and proximity.  The crossbow was then made, easily piercing through the thickest of armor plating wielded by a country’s best soldiers.  It is easy enough to see how and why a rifle was made, to give a more common man the ability to at least fight against a superior foe, be it an animal or person.  In more simple terms, they were made to level the playing field with nature and each other.  “Trembling with tenderness,” mankind fears death and adversity, yet it is through these conflicts that humanity is ultimately defined.  We have defined ourselves as masters of warfare, with a rigid understanding that in order to protect or claim something, you must fight for it.  Prestige, education, land, resources, and ideals, while not always fought over with guns or words, are still focused as subjects of contest, to outwit one’s competitors or rivals in order to claim what you desire.  Humanity is a creature of desire and conflict, shaped by the trials and tribulations that fill our lives. 
Even as we realize, or perhaps remember, why it is we seek adversity and face against those that would oppose us, we must keep those that fall from becoming another statistic.  By removing our emotions and remorse from our lives, we continually push ourselves into a darker place, a place filled with straw men and lingering lives.  “This is the way the world ends.”  When all falls into shadow, actions performed by unthinking and unfeeling drones, our race fails to live.  If we allow ourselves to be caught up in so much adversity in war, we doom our world and our species to a shadowy fate.  “Not with a bang but a whimper.”  Instead of rising to a shining moment for our species, we slowly kill ourselves off with canisters of poisonous gas or the hail of bullets.  We die in our hearts before our physical bodies stop working.  Life loses its brilliance and its edge, and we all begin to live with straw filled headpieces.  “Shape without form, shade without color.”  We must always remember and mourn those that gave their lives for the next step in our advancing civilization, and we must always remember that a statistic is more than just a number.  People were part of that statistic, and we must remember the people and not the number.  “Our dried voices, when we whisper together, are quiet and meaningless.”  We cannot let those that fall be without a voice, those that are damaged in ways we cannot see or hear.  War, as Elliot shows us, can have a profound and terrible impact on the life of a person.  Even as other soldiers and people are defined and are renowned for their actions in brutal conflict, there are always those that fall to the wayside, those that die or break.  Many thousands prove themselves to be good men and women to their peers and family, but there are many more that never return or never live again, always stuck in the shadow “between the motion and the act.”  The people who are now dead inside from war and conflict lost much more than those that merely lost their lives.  Feel their lethargic lives, feel the dullness of their minds, and you will know what true suffering is.  Remember them, and mourn for their loss as well. 


As quaint as the document was, Rubic allowed the message to be sent back to Earth, an organic’s folly attempt to appeal to his organic kin of the plights of military warriors, no doubt. Rubic felt nothing akin to what the writer was trying to accomplish, more so due to Rubic’s certainty that war was what he was designed for, and less because he was incapable of feeling emotions. Such tugs at a person’s heart were ineffective against a man made of metal and wires.

As the ship continued at best speed towards the planet of Avalon, which was only just a little closer to the Codex than Earth was, but due to the nature of Rubic’s damage and the nature of the upgrade, they had been directed to Avalon as soon as possible. Of course, by that statement, one would be tempted to try and cut through Planet Trade Organization and Saiyan Empire space, but that was likely a route that would lead to nothing but disaster. As such, the Codex made it a point of skirting around such territory, attempting to elude patrols from either government in order to avoid any incidents. Even after eight hours of fast travel, they had not been confronted and pursued by any patrols, but Rubic’s status was still listed as ‘unavailable’ to the ship’s computers. Even during that time, Rubic’s arms and head had been replaced and repaired, but with so much internal damage to his systems and so many armor plates needing to be replaced, the robot was still in no shape for any hard or difficult engagements yet. His personal power supply had been drained so low in the previous fight that, even after eight hours, his personal reserves of energy had only just reached a fifteen and a half percent charge. His back up batteries were being charged in a separate charging unit, but since the ship required so much power to push itself so quickly, only so much could be tapped for Rubic’s recharge cycle.

Even then, however, Rubic was still conscious to try and digest and analyze the combat data he had gained from the brutal fight between himself and the nameless Saiyan youth that he had fought against.

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“COME ON MACHINE! I WILL BREAK YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS!” He roared

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"I have had JUST ABOUT ENOUGH OF YOU!  I AM GOING TO BREAK YOU, WITH MY BARE FISTS!"

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"Alright you mechanical moster, you rusty robot, you stinky simulacra... NOW IS THE MOMENT OF YOUR ULTIMATE DEMISE HAAAAAA!"


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as his various systems reported on the damage sustained through the brutal onslaught of melee prowess.

DAMAGE TO EXTERNAL ARMOR AT FIFTEEN PERCENT
DAMAGE TO INTERNAL SYSTEMS AT EIGHT PERCENT

Suddenly, the boy maneuvered again, flickering for a moment before disappearing. Probability dictated that his opponent would

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distance between himself and the young warrior. Not enough to be truly appreciable, but enough to keep him out of melee range for a short second. And a second was all Rubic needed.

ACTIVATING REMAINING RESERVE ENERGY BATTERIES. EJECT DRAINED POWER CELLS. REROUTE POWER FROM NON-ESSENTIAL SYSTEMS TO MAIN CANNON.

With the sound of metal falling to the sandy ground, six spherical objects dropped from the robot’s back, indicating that he had now used up the last of his reserve batteries. They were dead weight now, discarded for later retrieval and recharge if, indeed, that time would come. As it stood, however, that was not likely, due to probability


Anything and everything about the battle was being analyzed and studied, down to every single small movement of the boy to the reactions the opposition had to Rubic’s attacks. At every moment, Rubic reviewed what the power level reading had been on the boy when every situation happened, how his power level had ebbed, flowed, and spiked with each particular activity, defensive maneuver, or offensive backlash. The more Rubic studied how the boy fought, the more prepared Rubic would be when their inevitable ‘rematch’ would occur. The more and more he studied, the better Rubic would be at combating this singular threat to Earth’s security and stability. If that Saiyan warrior was allowed to go back to Earth, there was no telling how much damage he would likely cause…

What was for certain, however, was Rubic needed repairs and upgrades from Avalon, that much was known. Oddly enough, the convenient timing of the Avalonian government proved to be more than just coincidence in Rubic’s mind. Perhaps the Earth Defense Forces had spoken to Avalon before about refitting Rubic’s chassis with new abilities and upgrades, and while the android was not averse to improving his efficiency in combat, he was still as close to suspicious about their motives that an emotionless robot could be. The Avalon Protectorate did, indeed, protect Earth from the worst that the wild galaxy had to offer, but such a large and advanced civilization likely had their own motives for upgrading Rubic’s systems. Rubic would just have to figure out what that motive was.

Rubic re-analyzed the orders coming in from the Earth Defense Forces for further data…

INCOMING TRANSMISSION…

RBC-411,
THIS IS CENTRAL COMMAND OF EARTH DEFENSE FORCES HEADQUARTERS. DUE TO THE NATURE OF YOUR DAMAGE, YOU ARE BEING SENT TO THE PLANET OF AVALON, WHERE THE AVALON PROTECTORATE WILL BE TAKING OVER REPAIRS OF YOUR SYSTEMS AND EXTERNAL ARMOR. AS YOU KNOW, THE REPAIR FACILITIES AND FUNCTIONS ABOARD THE CODEX ARE NOT AS EFFICIENT OR EFFECTIVE AS THE FACILITIES ON EARTH OR AVALON, AND AS SUCH, WE ARE REQUIRING YOU TO SEEK FURTHER REPAIRS ON THE PLANET AVALON. THE GOVERNMENT THERE HAS ALSO OFFERED TO UPGRADE YOUR SYSTEMS, A GESTURE THAT WE APPRECIATE. SEEK OUT THESE UPGRADES. EXECUTE.

With that message, Rubic closed the communication window and concentrated further on analyzing the combat data received in the engagement.

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Shouted the boy, his hands flashing out as he turned in the air, levitating, firing strands of energy headed straight towards the machine- intent on capturing him within its net, holding it in place for Gohan to beat the shit out of. He wasn’t done, however. He wanted this machine dead, scourged from existence- never to bother him again.

His hand ripped across the air, tearing it asunder with a line of energy that arose and shot out, horizontal, meant to slice the thing in half.


The young Saiyan’s capabilities were interesting and powerful, to be certain. Much like the synthetic battle maiden, Aria, he possessed abilities that were not typical with normal combat personnel, seeking to impede and hamper the forward and offensive momentum of their opponents. While Rubic utilized harsh brutality and powerful attacks, Aria utilized guile and subterfuge to accomplish her objectives, and while Rubic was not designed for such things, he could at least acknowledge the effectiveness of her combat prowess, as inefficient as it was. Having pain sensors and the like on her body, regardless of what other functions she might have, were inefficient and impractical design aspects of her person. In retrospect, it was possible that she had been given a combat suite only for self defense and had been designed, instead, for possibly more recreational purposes. There was no question that ‘pleasure’ androids existed, who’s sole function was to please their owners and masters in many aspects, not the least of which was through sexual interactions. Perhaps that was Aria’s purpose, but if that was the case, why did she participate in the MAGMA tournament? Conundrums abound, it seemed, with that particular unit. Rubic would have to do more investigation into her design and origins in order to ascertain what her true purpose was.

For now, however, Rubic continued to process data as the various repair arms worked on his body, bringing systems down and back up as needed during the repair process. Armor plating always came last in the repair cycle, as the environmental seal for the armor was a particularly complex task in order to ensure Rubic’s internal systems would not be compromised by outside dust and debris, an aspect that had taken its toll along with the sheer power of the Saiyan warrior.

As the Codex finally arrived at Avalon, greeted by Avalonian authorities, Rubic submitted to their best judgement in terms of his upgrades. It was time to see just how potent they were in the field of robotics.

WC: 3830
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