Scene #6872: Go To Gulag

Owner	Pose
Tanya Degurechaff	There are few places as isolated as northern Siberia. It's the perfect place to place a prison and fill it with people that someone would never want to see again. This explains the conspicuous concrete walls of this far-flung prison, just sticking up out of the tundra with no effort at all made to conceal their presence or what this place is. It's so remote that clearly nobody thought it would be found. But with certain knowledge, someone knew exactly where to look for it. Clad in a white, heavily insulated combat jumpsuit, Tanya surveys the facility through binoculars, from her perch. After a moment, she lowers them and, with one hand, touches the communicator at her throat. "No posted exterior guards," Not that she blames even the notoriously sloppy Russy soldiers for shirking guard duty in this environment. Not that it's necessary. Who would visit this place? And who would try to leave in this weather? The tiny blonde stands on her perch, steadying herself by grasping a...horn, "Remember. Our goal isn't necessarily to recruit these men to the Concord. Though I certainly won't discourage you from extending the offer, the mere fact that they're no longer imprisoned would still create a considerable thorn in the Russey Union's side." Turning at the hip, she shoots a look over her shoulder to examine what she has to work with.
Asterios	It's too bad there aren't any Russy soldiers manning the walls. They would have been treated to a show of a fluffy white minotaur gleefully plowing face-first through rolling mounds of Siberian snow. He's only seen this much snow in one place once before, and that was Christmas. And that was partly business! This time, he's just... Having a good time before the mission. It is, of course, his horn that Tanya Degurechaff uses to steady her footing, and his shoulder upon which she stands with binoculars in-hand, parascope-like amidst a sea of snow. "Aa~o/"" Asterios says with all the cheer of a cow playing in a snowdrift. "Get in. Liberate prisoners. Escort out. Terrify guards? It's been. Too long. Since I had the chance to do that. Mmn, kind of nostalgic~" It makes sense to bring a minotaur to a prison break. There's not much a stone wall can do against the kind of raw physicality the minotaur can bring to bear. But... Then, why is he wearing some kind of custom-made, skin-tight (yet cozy) stealthing-suit? He's even got a bandanna wrapped around his forehead. Is this... Is this really a smash-and-grab, or is it something a little more... subtle. ...Subtle. With a twelve-foot-tall minotaur. Yyyyep.
Zek	<"That's a good sign,"> yawns one piece of talking ordnance into Tanya's earpiece. <"The less time we have to spend outside, the faster we can secure the site."> Zek crouches nearby. His Warframe is not, and has never been snowy white. A haze of snowy static seems to roll over his metallic skin nonetheless, the extreme climate doing nothing particularly good to his onboard shield system. It provides a sort of elegant, possibly somewhat incidental electronic camouflage for the initial approach. Also, for some reason he has a bazooka. It's unclear what he's been told a prison break entails around here.
Theurgus	A pair of Programs stand nearby the Minor Major. Theurgus grips her staff, and Arcana tightens her grasp on her sword hilt, both wearing ill-suited outfits for the weather, but showing little signs of feeling it, at least outwardly. "I agree with our bodiless voice friend. What is our plan of action?" asks Arcana, turning her green gaze over the imposing walls. Theurgus says, "The Organization will not expect a strike from the air. My assistant and I could perform an airstrike, sow confusion for those unable to fly to find a breaching point."
Priscilla	This kind of snow is exactly Priscilla's element. Fairly literally, if one asks the right Concord expert. She has on her thick, fluffy, snow white dress, with its long sleeves and layered skirts, but the crunching of fresh snow following her is definitely that of bare feet, leaving oddly shallow footprints in her wake as she works through it. "Indeed, I had meant to ask of thine objectives more specifically." she says to Tanya, unconcerned and aloof, watching the walls with a hand above her eyes. "Though truthfully I am simply using a day in the field, I trust that this hath something, or many things, to do with thine current engagement. What leverage, specifically, is it that thou hope to obtaineth here?" It seems a relaxed question, from the crossbreed almost taking a vacation by being here, in 'plainclothes', but it has a great deal to do with how she intends to proceed. She waits on an answer while trying to attune to the feeling of anyone or anything living around here. The barren outer walls are at least slightly suspicious, so she'd like to confirm if there's a great mass of people all huddled inside, or if something is amiss.
Staren	Staren is here; as he's magically and technologically protected from temperature, at the moment he's wearing a snow-white cloak from the Hashashins, and a long scarf with the Gatecrasher's Union logo on it. He's wearing his goggles to keep the wind out of his eyes, though. "Likewise. I was expecting some more resistance..." The camera pans to the Star Hawk and a couple dozen combat constructs -- about 1/4 tech and 3/4 magic -- parked nearby. "I could just knock down walls and raise a fuss, but... we could try stealth first and call it in as a reserve when we get noticed, too. As far as freeing the prisoners, stealth and distraction both seem like good tools."
Haguro	Compared to the incredibly subtle minotaur and conqueror duo, the bazooka-wielding space ninja, the impractically-dressed duo, the one other person actually dressed for this, and the robot master? Haguro is looking comfortably out of place. She's wearing a fuzzy padded jacket of her own, but the giant opening in the front of it to let her gut-tail breathe make the cold-weather attire somewhat pointless. She looks comfortable, at least. "If they don't want to join us, that's fine. We can't force them." Adjusting her white admiral's cap, she aaaalmost blends into her surroundings were it not for the black chitin lining her gut-tail and the armor covering her legs. "They'll just need to know that we're going to prioritize the lives of the ones who will. No complaints that way, right?"
Tanya Degurechaff	Tanya doesn't seem to acknowledge Asterios' antics in the snow, and only really pays attention to him once he's had his fun and gotten back to the task at hand. "Terrify or eliminate. I don't especially care about enemy casualties-- they're all conscripts, anyway. That's how Russey does things." It's impossible to miss the towering Dragonhalf, and it's Priscilla's rank that has Tanya prioritize answering her first: "The Russey Union recently went through a rather rough revolution that deposed the Czar and instilled a new socialist leadership. He has since imprisoned anyone who spoke out against him--" Raising a hand, she gestures at the prison, "My intention is to set those men free. The Union's been overly aggressive since the Empire annexed Franco. The goal here is to give him something else to take up his attention." Eyes closing, she gestures, "And if the Empire or the Concord benefits from some defectors, that's a bonus." Her attention turns to Zek, hand raising, "You. Break open the warden's office and give us a firm location of high value prisoners. They won't be keeping these officers in the same place they keep their regular trash." Shifting to Theurgus and Arcana, "You two will eliminate all four guard towers and keep pressure on any positions that obstruct us." To Staren, she gestures, "I'd like Wiremu and Haguro to damage the guard barracks. There's no need to completely destroy it-- a sufficient show of force should have the desired effect. These are conscripts, not real soldiers. Asterios and I will hinder guard movements and focus on the actual escape route. Miss Priscilla-- I won't deign to give you orders, but you're welcome to contribute wherever you wish." Turning back to the building, she reaches up, "I suspect only a small handful of actual officers on-site, and we can just kill them if they get too troublesome." Fingers pinch the brim of her cap, "Ladies and gentlemen," The brim is tugged down, "Let's start a revolution."
Theurgus	Theurgus and Arcana both nod. In unison they summon a matched pair of prismatic crystals from their inventories, speak a single imperitive and press the crystals into their chests. "Access!" Two towers of light erupt, then just as quickly vanish, revealing the forms of Diamond Soul and Diamond Sister. Their Processors flash into place, Theurgus sporting shining white gemstones, while Arcana's has a void-like blackness bordering the chrome of hers. "We shall strike from the skies. On your command, Major." says Arcana, drawing her sword and a 'hand' of cards from her pouch.
Staren	"If they have to use conscripts, are the people really in support of this 'socialist' regime at all?" Staren holds a hand to his chin. "Sounds like we could offer them a better deal." He returns Tanya's gesture with the hood of his cloak, then uses his hovershoes to skate over the snow back to his machine. "Ready to knock over some barracks when you give the signal!" He'll give the infiltration team a chance to make some progress with stealth first. When he's called, though... rather than hanging back, he goes for the full shock and awe value of having a 40-foot-tall humanoid warmachine by leaping over to the barracks and starting to knock down walls with his machine's feet and fists. He can escalate to heavier weapons as needed. Meanwhile, his constructs move into position just out of sight of the prison, ready to reinforce.
Haguro	Tanya starts giving the assembled team their directions. Haguro listens, and both she and her gut-tail nod in unison. "Understood. Something loud and flashy rather than outright obliterating them... That's something we can do." Turning to Staren, she shrugs lightly at his question. "Conscription isn't something that should be used just because they lack manpower, no. That's no way to even hold onto the soldiers' loyalty." With that comment made, she turns to wards the rest of the team with a quick salute. "Be careful, everyone." And then she's off! Breaking into a run after Staren's mech once he starts to move, the Abyssal swaps her guns to anti-air flak as she starts blasting away at nearby walls and anything that looks even remotely explosive. Barrels, fueling stations, gas tanks, the works. Rather than going for outright explosive ammo, she's opting to instead cause a whole lot of noise through the sheer quantity of metal bits ricocheting off goddamn everything. Her gut-tail, meanwhile, is going to be briefly occupied with trying to eat the first person that comes near her.
Asterios	Asterios is among friends! So many friends. From small boatgirl, to best pal warframe, to big sister Priscilla. Truly, today is a good day to go for a pleasant walk and maybe casually knock over a sprawling, communist empire. "Aa, orders-- understood," Asterios rumbles, one of his one-handed poleaxes materializing in a waiting hand. "Master. Hold on tight. I'm going. In." It's a well known fact that minotaurs are, by and large, bereft of the gift of flight. Nobody ever said anything about their ability to /jump good./ Asterios' takes one step, then another, then another and another and another, each stride building speed and momentum until the critical limit is reached. He bends at the knee, falling to three limbs, before-- THOOM It sounds vaguely like an artillery shell going off, or a crack of thunder from a distant cloud. A plume of snow and steam rises from the crater where the minotaur initiated his mighty leap. Mana surges through the berserker's body, a familiar spell igniting within the very core of his being. He sails up, up, up, over the imposing wall, and strikes the earth when he lands with the spiked tip of his mighty axe. And at the moment of impact, he declares the name of his Noble Phantasm: "CHAOS LABYRINTHOS!" Lines of light spiderweb throughout the prison like patterns across a circuitboard. Stone walls and familiar pathways abruptly change and shift. Patrol routes and surveillance systems alike are rendered ineffective, any suggestion of good order is lost beyond all repair. The changing facility rises up to swallow the minotaur and all others who choose to follow him-- but they needn't be afraid. After all, they're not who he's hunting, today.
Zek	Zek's faceless Warframe turns to regard Tanya as she gives out assignments. He nods fractionally, drawing himself back to his feet. <"Understood,"> reports the questionably-bodied Tenno radio voice. The Vauban-type armor does not look terribly stealthy, but once Zek gets away from the immediate vicinity of the group -- something he does by sprinting dead away and tumble-leaping into the snowy haze -- he vanishes from sight completely. The Tenno infiltrator approaches from a wall opposite the one Haguro starts immediately shelling, using the chaos of the obvious attack to avoid any personnel he would otherwise have to dispatch. Finding a way in isn't terribly difficult for somebody like him; it's actually getting the material that will be the tricky part. He jumps, dashes and climbs, heading for whatever looks like the place with the best view or most insulation while his auto-mapper starts building a floorplan around him. Interrogation was never one of his strong skills. Hopefully, Zek doesn't have to actually /talk/ to anyone.
Priscilla	"A perfectly adequate plan of action." is the full extent of Priscilla's opinion, sounding no less distantly satisfied than she had before. "The company aligned here wouldst be more than enough in any circumstance. I trust thee all to perform competently and without incident." she says, though currently her eyes are wandering up the guard towers, her tail tip twitching thoughtfully in lieu of any particularly focused body language. "Let us not dally with it any longer, then." Priscilla disappears at the center of a brief whirl of blowing snow. A full sling's throw ahead, a puff sharply rises from the crown of a deep white drift, and then another across a driven field of rippled soft snowfall. Patches of frost up the side of a guard tower form and discorporate in rapid succession, and a gust of air momentarily blows over the top. Priscilla doesn't search for a convenient window or stairwell access near the roof, but just Slips Inside somehow. Without even disturbing whatever guards may be up there (she does intend to see if there aren't even any at their posts indoors) she sets to looking through the tower's field of surveillance. Naturally, these towers would be set up to have a prime view of the most important parts of the complex. She wants to identify each of the locations within, as well as more particularly, the most likely place any visiting officer or supervisor would stay at, or at least be lead to. Even if it's out in the middle of nowhere, there has to be some demand for a level of representatives of the government to drive or fly out here to check in, or interrogate specific prisoners of note, therefore there has to be a source of accommodations, sensitive information, and communications equipment to relay something back using a private military channel. Probably. That's assuming the new Russy Union is fairly competent, or at least didn't meddle too much with the previous Federation's structure.
Tanya Degurechaff	Tanya does indeed hang on when Asterios jumps. However, she's conspicuously absent when he lands-- the Major has engaged her flight unit and now floats just above the level of his shoulder while the prison responds to the Servant's Noble Phantasm. The fortress effectively turns itself inside-out in response. Lights flicker and electrical lines spark as they are severed, but once the prison's reorganization is complete the lights remain active-- in the same manner as a dungeon's torches burn seemingly forever. In its new orientation, the walls are all focused inward, creating a huge and empty snow-covered courtyard that the four guard towers overlook, walled in on all sides by smooth concrete and brick and having a single entrance. The rest of that guardhouse is on the outside, wrenched from inside its structure and now fully exposed. The two men managing that checkpoint stare, slackjawed, out at the siberian wilderness where there previously had been a sturdy wall. Two-story buildings are similarly stripped down, laid out in a single floor format that makes sense only to the Minotaur who created it, all with no ceilings. Even the prison block has been unfurled into its composite sections, though arranged somewhat haphazardly. This makes it remarkably simple to find points of interest, at least. The alarms aren't working, but someone is running around the stretched-out barracks, rallying guards out of their beds using a whistle. A man in a more ornate uniform opens fire on the two Programs from the relative cover of the desk in what is presumably his office. That would probably be the Warden, who now has no ceiling. It doesn't take Priscilla long to find a place that 'looks' high value. Carpets, paintings of the presumed leader, ornate oak doors, and classical music playing off an old record player all feel more posh than any prison ought to have. And in one of those offices, someone in a decorated uniform is already packing a briefcase, a pistol resting on the desk nearby, hastily pulled out and placed beside a half-finished bottle of alcohol.
Theurgus	Theurgus and Arcana jink and weave through the incoming bullets, Arcana dropping altitude rapidly, as if she cut her flight ability temporarily. She arrests just before impacting the ground, then sheaths her blade, she then reorients herself, forms a spell circle to launch herself from, and commits to an azai slash, sending a wave of wind-aspect magic at the gunman, aiming to knock him over. Theurgus, meanwhile remains high in the air, chanting a magic spell to add to the confusion caused by Labyrinthos... it's going to take her a little bit to finish though. "Ye lords, mask of code and thread, source and kernal, ye who doth bear the name Program. Lo, upon thy frozen throne, cast judgement upon these wretched." she's building up for something.
Haguro	That's certainly convenient. Although she's not entirely sure what Asterios did just now, the combination of the fortress turning some sort of inside-out and the whistling going on to rouse the troops from their slumber gives Haguro just what she needs to actually focus her efforts in the right direction. Instead of just firing at random walls to distract the soldiers from Zek sneaking his way around from the other side, the Cruiser instead beelines right for the source of the whistling noises. She has to psyche herself up a bit for the next part, and part of that is tossing the coat aside behind one of the outside inside walls so she doesn't look like she actually needs to worry about staying warm. Once she finds the barracks in question, Haguro breaks into a wide grin while talking in an oddly stilted tone with her gut-tail's mouth moving in time with her regular mouth. "Wake up, everyone. It's dinner time." And then she launches herself right into the crowd, once again firing off massive sprays of flak around them. Although she's not aiming her shots at the troops directly, she won't look too torn up if some of them do get shredded by the flak. She can't afford to, after all, if she's going to scare them off without maiming or killing too many of them! The gut-tail, of course, has some semblance of self-control even as it tries latching onto nearby conscripts to start tossing them at each other.
Staren	The walls are now on the INside instead of the OUTside. It kind of lessens the effect, but Staren kicks one over anyway. His voice comes over the mech's loudspeakers: "Attention! I am Staren Wiremu, Hand of the Concord, and I give you my word: Lay down your arms and surrender, and you will not be harmed. After we are done here, you will have the choice to leave peacefully, to rebel against the regime that enslaved you in the name of your own ideals, or to defect to the Empire. If you choose to fight us..." The giant mecha waves a hand vaguely in the direction of Haguro collateral damage-ing her way through the crowd and throwing people at eachother. A dozen and a half constructs, stone humanoids with kanobos, charge the inside-out barracks. "Choose quickly."
Asterios	The fortress-prison turns inside out in a manner that its architects and occupants certainly would never have expected. In a sane world, this sort of thing would have never happened, after all. But this world is not sane. This world is full of flying witches with guns that act like artillery pieces, magical computer goddesses unleashing death from on high, sentient battle-armor that can conjure black holes, and... This minotaur. This minotaur that has turned its front end toward a hail of desperate gunfire. This minotaur whose body absorbs more lead than anyone ever aught to. This minotaur who appears to have enough blood in his body to /not care/ and instead charge single-mindedly into the bevy of conscripts. He does not bother to strike with the steel edge of his axe. Instead he smashes the ground under their feet, showering the hastily-assembled firing line with concrete shrapnel that flies at bullet-fast speeds. "Master," Asterios rumbles to the small, floating one over his shoulder. "I will go. Find and secure prisoners. Cells should be--" He points down a seemingly random corridor with utterly unnerring confidence. "This way." And so he goes.
Zek	Zek moves in. The entire world shifts in a maddening fashion as he does, tearing down multi-story structures and rearranging them like scattered pieces on a komi board. The Tenno abruptly stops in his tracks, crouched in chest-deep snow. His shield ripples all around him, hazy as his sleep-ridden brain. Komi board? He remembers a shape, and some kind of model; inadequate movements against a gold-lit silhouette; the frustration of defeat; the scent of incense and antiseptic; the taste of blood in his/someone else's/their mouth -- The Warframe in the field shudders, and lurches back into motion. Thankfully, nobody spots it. Zek urges it/himself/them forward, a stretch of dissonance scratching at the somatic link and making the edges of his vision blur uncomfortably. He puts an armored hand to the wall (that's not my hand) and starts to climb, getting a foot up (that's not my foot) and just skipping straight up it like he was hanging on wires from some framework far above him. There's no point at which he stops when he reaches the top. Fingers grip masonry, and the entire Warframe front-flips over the top of the wall and into the Warden's roofless office. It lands next to the desk in a three-point crouch, then draws itself up, turning its eyeless mask of a face towards the man. He's clearly heavily armed: some kind of foreign pistol of sleek, alien design rests at his hip, and the bazooka that looks somewhat more local is slung over his back, crossed with some kind of bladed staff. He doesn't draw any of them. His voice issues from a radio receiver on the Warden's desk, hissing with static. He sounds like he's talking to himself. <"These aren't my hands,"> he says. The Warframe takes a step closer, the phantasmal muttering continuing. <"These aren't my hands --"> The pistol practically materializes in the bio-armor's grip, it draws it so fast. Zek pulls the trigger once and puts two shots into the air at the Warden, high-caliber shells burning red-hot as they exit the barrel and detonating whenever and wherever they abruptly stop.
Tanya Degurechaff	DCCS The rifle-toting officer is blown off his feet by Arcana's wind-slash, the weapon in his hands sending off sparks as it's carved in two. That sturdy rifle may have saved his life-- as the windslash's marks across his uniform are far less severe. Medals scatter across the carpet, some carved in two. He's bleeding, unconscious, but alive. BARRACKS Haguro bursting into the barracks as she is brings an instant end to the shouting and chaos inside, all eyes staring at to the untrained eye very much looks like a drowned, mutilated corpse come to life. The terrified silence is broken when one of them shouts, "Vodnik! It's real, it's real!" as he pulls up his rifle. The entire room explodes into chaos, gunfire, and explosions. Several half-dressed soldiers are bitten and hurled; one even sails over the wall into the next barracks 'floor', screaming about drowned demons. "Imperial dogs!" the only actual officer in the barracks barks at Staren's ultimatum, "We die for the Fatherland! Men--!" His pistol is raised, menacing the giant robot, "Not one step back! Kill the Imperial inva--" The soldier next to him bashes him in the face with the butt of his rifle, then snatches the firearm from him. Holding it by the barrel, he gestures wildly at the Starhawk, "DO YOU SEE WHAT YOU ARE TRYING TO THREATEN?! No man is that foolish!" "You choose treason, then!" the officer barks from the floor, nursing his bloodied nose. "Nyet," the trooper shifts his grip on that handgun, then discharges it into the officer's skull, "I choose life." A steeley gaze shifts, glowering up at the mech, but the rifle nor handgun are raised to challenge it. The soldiers around him follow suit, clearly unsure what to do without someone shouting orders at them.
Priscilla	Priscilla seems to have been correct in her estimation that the guard towers would remain fairly static points when Asterios had his way with the complex, demarcating its boundary rather than included as its interior. Having that vantage, with no ceiling on any of the labyrinth below, is absolutely ideal. It only takes her a split second to recognize exactly what she was looking for. The top of the tower erupts as if a bomb had gone off, though rather than fire and shrapnel, a blast of wind pressure and snow shatters its windows. Inside, the current stunned guards are laid out by the brick wall of a winter gale that smashes through it, and thick carpets of ice race across the floor and up the walls like a pool of oil catching fire, encasing equipment and trapping men behind frozen doors. Just a second later, while Zek beelines for the warden and Staren crashes through and holds the soldiers at gunpoint, with the the soldiers held up by Arcana and Haguro, Priscilla sights the distance, takes a few, quick steps back from the roof of the tower, then accelerates forward and leaps from the edge, crushing the corner of the concrete at the point from which she goes flying, carrying a spume of snow in a short arc. Sailing through the air for multiple full seconds, she comes crashing down in the lavish office of the visiting official, breaking a shallow circle in the fancy hardwoods. She kicks over the table, shattering the alcohol and sending the handgun spinning, but when she grabs for the officer, it's at a more relatively even size, a vicelike grip squeezing at his middle, and something ice cold and metal, prickling with hair-splitting razor sharpness, held to his throat. "Thou art far too late to be going anywhere. Accept thine misfortune and drop that case. Thou shalt be answering a few questions at mine leisure." she says.
Theurgus	Arcana skids to a half in mid-air, floating over the downed rifleman. She waits where she is, almost protective of her 'prey'. Theurgus, meanwhile, completes her incantation, an angry storm forming from nothing and gathering all the snow and ice into a compact space. She splits the funnel of this super tornado, and directs four smaller ones to the watchtowers, using the local terrain to augment a simple spell into something far more utilitarian. She freezes the towers, ensuring that the occupants can't start shooting at her allies in the open courtyard area. "Chillblain Tempest."
Tanya Degurechaff	ZEK The officer in the Warden's office snaps his gaze up when an...indescribable sort of machine-man drops into his presence through where the ceiling had previously been. He goes for his pistol, snatching it from the desk and leveling the weapon. And then a voice crackles through the radio sitting next to his desk lamp. His eyes shift towards it, confused. What aren't.. Who is-- Before he can voice the question, the hands that are not Zek's gun him down. The Warframe has free reign of his office and his records, including several records in his open briefcase about 'Priority' prisoners. At a glance, the photographs all look like ranking officers and generals. These are probably the guys Tanya wants. DIGNITARY One of the four guard towers is...effectively destroyed when Priscilla leaps off of it, the roof collapsing on the men inside. The remaining three watch positions come to grips with how the facility is under attack, at last, and open fire on the most visible targets they can make out-- One on the Star Hawk, unaware of what just happened on the ground. The other two turn their machine gun emplacements towards the two Programs that can be made out amidst the chaos, who aren't relatively...surrounded by their comrades like Haguro is. This choice to get involved in the fight does not last very long, as the guns ice over--soon followed by the windows and doors, leaving the men stuck inside. While they could break the glass to get back into it...they don't seem very motivated to do so. With the gunfire and noise, this visiting official certainly knew something serious was occurring. But then it suddenly explodes into his office-- and he can't SEE it. He quickly snaps the briefcase shut before his desk goes flying along with his drink and his weapon. After a moment in the iron grip of an invisible assailant, time likely needed to process the speed of what just happened, the official releases that briefcase. It clatters harmlessly to the floor, and he raises the one arm that isn't pinned, "If I do not surrender, I die for certain. If I do surrender, I live a bit longer and only perhaps die. As someone in no hurry to meet Death just yet, the choice conveniently has already been made for me." CELLBLOCK Asterios knows the way. Of course he does, he made this place what it is. And so Tanya lets the minotaur take point. Guardsmen have already scattered between his rock chip trick and their own disorganization. Floating just over the level of the walls, she inwardly remarks on the handful of Russey troops already running out across the snow and into the treeline. And she allows herself the bare minimum of smug little smiles. It's just as Staren said; these men have no guaranteed loyalty. "Asterios, we're letting every prisoner loose. Even the killers and other dregs." Floating forward somewhat, she unslings her rifle, "Just let them run loose. We'll give the officers premium treatment."
Staren	When the officer tries to give that order, Staren points the robot's right fist at him. A hatch slides open in the front of the forearm pack, baring triple-barreled artillery... but the soldiers take care of it for him. He lowers the weapon. "...If any of you truly believe in the current regime, then in return for surrendering I will still spare you. You can take word back to your superiors that the prisoners are now free. ...In the meantime, everyone put down your weapons and prepare yourselves for departure, whichever path you will take -- I doubt any of you wish to stay here at the prison. Well, maybe rebels want to turn it into a base of operations or something... anyway, once the fighting is over we'll sort out who's going where. No killing eachother over your respective choices, either. At least not today." The constructs stand guard. A half-dozen more constructs, hiding, watch the perimeter for anyone trying to sneak out.
Haguro	Something about this should feel wrong, but Haguro feels strangely okay with causing chaos in this rather straightforward way. The act is kind of tricky to keep up, especially with the conscripts firing on her, but she's tough enough to take a few shots! Dark welts appear where those bullets impact against the Cruiser, and a few even draw blood, but she makes no effort to avoid them and forces that wide grin to go even wider just to keep herself from freaking out. Even in this form and knowing that she can take the hits doesn't make the noises any less terrifying. Something inside her is screaming at her to just start shooting back, and the gut-tail even starts jerking around as it opens its mouth wide, ready to turn the conscripts into scorched marks and paste. It would be so much easier to do that, but she still has a mission to do. Thankfully, the barracks provides her with ample objects to use as both cover and projectiles, and she doesn't have to keep the act up for much longer once she starts going for the beds. It only takes a moment before said beds start getting hurled all over the place to add to the chaos, stopping only when she sees the officer going down from the trooper's gunshot. She keeps one bed held overhead still, but doesn't hurl that one right away as she instead glances around slowly at the others. "... Smart man. What do the rest of you choose?" Haguro shows no signs of putting that bed down nor throwing it just yet. Instead, she tries taking a page out of Re's book and "Even if you outnumber us, you won't survive against us. You're better off with treason." She giggles lightly, albeit somewhat awkwardly since she's trying to go for that too-natural giggle and just sort of sounds like she's gurgling or something.
Zek	The Warframe's extended hand does not waver until after the man is dead. Then, it shakes, trembling slightly. It raises its other and grasps its extended forearm, sliding metallic fingers down to the wrist, then over the back of the hand and the pistol in its grip. It pushes down, and it responds. Zek sighs in audible relief, voice brought to life through the radio. <"Still my will,"> he whispers. <"Still my hands. /My/ hands, not... /not/ my hands. It's fine. It's..."> Mercifully, he trails off. The Warframe turns to the briefcase and waves a hand like a magic wand over the surface of the briefcase records. The contents appear in his field of view, augmented reality interface helpfully reproducing them for the Tenno's perusal. After all, he has no eyes with which to read. <"Objective complete,"> Zek transmits back over friendly comms. <"Uploading relevant intelligence. Stand by."> He's standing slightly hunched over the body, leaning at an awkward angle. He doesn't seem to notice.
Asterios	Every prisoner? Every prisoner. Asterios' heart sings with the unbounded joy of liberation. "Aa, right you are, master," he decides firmly. "Every single one. Saint. Sinner. Doesn't matter. Will free them all." His expression is split by a broad, toothy grin, even as his pace doubles towards his inevitable destination. The minotaur takes perhaps unexpected joy in his task, but perhaps it shouldn't be too surprising, all told. Asterios is one who spent so many of his days trapped within a labyrinth, waiting and watching at the very end of it all, so close to freedom and yet still waiting for someone-- anyone-- to free him. To be that person, even to those who might not necessarily deserve it, is something he cannot deny. After all, even the most hardened murderer in this place can hardly have done worse than he, himself, has. The Minotaur charges through the twisting, half-exposed corridors of the inverted gulag. He allows the fleeing conscripts to do as they like; if they're so cowardly as to run from their appointed duty, they'll almost certainly meet a cruel end at the hand of their beloved Fatherland. Who would believe their story? That monsters and aliens turned the prison inside out and freed all the captives within? They'll either find themselves executed, or survive in the wilderness long enough to see their tyrants replaced. It doesn't matter to Asterios. He proceeds to the cell blocks, a thousand or more pounds of muscle and bone and exultant joy-- though it's likely of little comfort to the prisoners. The first thing they'd see would, after all, be the sheer enormity of the Minotaur surging down the corridor for their cells. The second thing would be the gleeful, crimson glow of his too-red eyes. The third would be an enormous ax-head smashing into the bars of their cage, revealing a face that says, simply, "Come with me. If you want to live."
Priscilla	There is, curiously, the briefest of pauses after the captured agent raises his available arm. A true one --nothing said, nothing done, little if anything thought. The tense moment passes, and Priscilla says "Near astonishing. I was lead to believeth that men here such as thee had far less sense, by both hearsay and accoutrement." "Indeed, thou art correct. Continue to hold such thoughts in mind, and nothing so especially untowards shalt happen to thee. Thou art as of yet no enemy that must be slain; endeavour not to be so." Slowly, Priscilla releases her hold on the dignitary, save to keep a fistful of his uniform in her hand, when she goes to hit the buckles on the case and check what's inside. Only a the general gist is necessary. If he'd been packing it up in a hurry, it should be something he couldn't afford to leave behind. "I believeth full well thou knowest what awaits deserters and surrenderers back the way from whence thou came. I chance that thou art wise enough to leave the other way, then." says Priscilla, a little louder and firmer than a whisper at his ear, buckling the case back up, then shoving it into the dignitary's arms, so he can carry it. Otherwise, there'd a floating briefcase behind him as she marches him back out to the courtyard. Slowly. Even should it still be a warzone, his unhurried presence should solve a lot of problems before they begin, as opposed to seeing him running around the maze looking for the back door.
Tanya Degurechaff	BARRACKS Haguro's making her section of the sprawled-out barracks a complete mess. And once she starts tossing the furniture around, what few men are still in any decent condition evacuate to the next room, only to come face to ankle with the Star Hawk. All it takes is one look at the murdered Commissar to have them chatting quickly amidst themselves. That one guy who stood up to the leadership figure glances between them, then as a show of surrender he tosses both his rifle and stolen handgun at the Star Hawk's feet. "There's no fight today. We'd just die if we took on you and...that person." His gesture towards Haguro is vague, but he just has no word for her that wouldn't just cause more problems. PRISCILLA When grip weakens, the dignitary straightens himself as best he can, "The only dogs who bark so loudly are the ones with something to prove, my..lady?" He seems unsure of making that assumption based just on the voice he's hearing, "Men who became officers through sycophantry and manipulation, who know they did nothing to deserve their rank. These are the men who shout for obedience and show blind loyalty as you no-doubt heard." He looks down when the briefcase's contents are rifled through. Records. By the photos, they're all officers. And any cross-reference would show they're the selfsame officers that Zek is now uploading data on for the jailbreak, "'His Excellency' purged a great many of us, you might not know that. Only men such as myself who kept our heads down were left behind. And the openings, filled with sycophants and bootlickers whose only value is playing to the ego of their superiors." The briefcase is shoved into his hands, and he starts. After a moment, he seems to understand the intention, and makes a point of collecting his peaked cap during the departure, "You are astute, though. And so-- yes, I believe I shall take a different route as you recommend. Perhaps to the Unified States...eh, eventually." Though to most it's just a uniformed officer departing unhurried in the opposite direction of all the Trouble going down. CELLBLOCK Who needs keys when they have Minotaur. The Berserker's strength is the universal key, mangling locks or wrenching bars free. Men seem hesitant to charge out given the madness of it all. Some do dash out once Asterios has moved past. One of the cells is already empty, which makes Tanya frown when comparing the data Zek has been uploading, flickering across a magic screen beside her. She compares the cell number, then floats up over the ceiling-less cell. Tracks in the snow deepen that frown, and she whirls back to rejoin Asterios on his Freedom Rampage. "You've all been imprisoned by your country for being too loyal to Russey and not loyal enough to her new leadership," Tanya states to the men she's been picking out from those set free, "I'm here to undo that injustice in the name of the Empire. You are invited to join the Empire, put your talents to use there, as civilians, perhaps even as military men-- or you are invited to stay here in your homeland, left to whichever devices you wish to pursue. But whether you side with us or not-- as of today, you are all free men." This sparks a murmur of conversation amidst the dozen or so who matched the military file. Tanya glances towards Asterios, then the opposite direction towards the looming Star Hawk and the distinct lack of gunfire from that direction.
Staren	There is no fight today. "Alright." Staren looks around, the Star Hawk's head moving. "Those of you who think you can make it in the wilderness, you're free to leave now. Anyone who wants to stay and try to use this facility, well, you can do that. Any loyalists who'd rather be POWs than betray their country or chance the wilds, handcuff yourselves -- if you don't and you try anything funny later, my promise of survival is not guarunteed. Everyone who wants a ride out of here, hang tight, transports are on the way." And they are, futuristic self-driving trucks that can handle the snow. "POWs and defectors will be escorted to the Empire, rebels and neutrals will be taken, mmh, we'll find someplace reasonable to drop you off. I'm not that familiar with around here, I'm open to suggestions, or I can take you to another world." "Any questions?"
Haguro	That's as good of a result as it could have been. Setting that bed down, Haguro settles into a far more comfortable and regular smile than the one she had put on earlier. "Good. We're glad to see that you're all reasonable people." Bowing lightly towards the gathered soldiers, she leaves the option explanation to Staren. She waits until he finishes before speaking up again. "Oh. Um. If you still want to remain loyal to this..." She gestures around vaguely, then at the dead officer. "...This, but not be POWs? Please let us know now so we can arrange something for that." Her entire tone has shifted to her usual helpful, yet mildly anxious one that's probably more familiar to her allies, but does little to hide the fact that she's only giving one more alternative in the form of execution.
Staren	"Uhh, I figured we could work out exchanges and such later but we DO have an Imperial Officer who might be able to make such guaruntees here today." Staren adds. "Haguro, round up the guns." He figures they can be supplied to the rebels after the sorting is done.
Asterios	"But just so you. All know," Asterios says with his characteristic situationally inappropriate cheer, "We are. Serious. This is Imperial recognition of merit. You would be welcome in the Empire. Just as I have been." Of course, what he's not saying is that he worked off much of the superstition and suspicion associated with having 'an actual goddamn minotaur' living in and working for the Imperial military. They'd probably have to do similar, but... Well, most of these men, they're all probably very much willing to put the screws to the rebellion that overturned the Czar and threw them into the brig. The Minotaur, though, hears his master's unspoken command loud and clear. "This way," he instructs, making his way towards... paradoxically, the exact opposite direction, but with the prison the way it is, chances are very good that he's going just the way he needs to be. Or maybe he's just planning a route that results in fulfilling his master's prior command of 'Free Them All.' It seems he intends to make good on it!