Okay dudes, I thought I'd lay up this little taste-test before Rev appears in PowerSWAT's next few installments!
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Somewhere, a man is crying.
I hear him through the walls of my cell, somewhere close. Who knows why he weeps? Moreover, do I care?
The sound softens to the point where it is soothing. Nobody is jeering in the Zig, nobody shouts at this dark hour of the night, allowing me to drift into a sleep as peaceful as any Ive had since my arrival - which is to say, not peaceful at all.
My dreams remember events my conscious self would rather forget
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It is almost eight months ago that I was chosen from the ranks of the Paragon City Police Department to be the test pilot for the PowerSWAT armour. Chosen for my marksmanship, my record, and the generous bribe that found its way to the captain to take me off the Hollows Task Force.
At the time I was making a meagre living pumping Outcasts full of lead, keeping them away from the gate, with occasional forays deeper into the Hollows - sometimes on business, but more often for
other reasons. Which is why I could afford the bribe.
My dreams fly through in a minute what took two months originally. Testing, fitting, more testing. All the while revelling in my fattened pay check, my extra free time and the thought that maybe I could stop taking the bribes and back-handers and become a real police officer
a hero.
It wasnt to be. Someone had found out about my little indiscretions with the Trolls and Outcasts, and my Superadine habit, and it all went horribly wrong.
Within a week they put me on active testing. Too early. A couple of offensive systems and nothing to speak of in defence, dumped out on the streets with the crooks, no backup.
I did well. My dream-self swells with pride as images of fallen gangers pile at its feet. Then pictures fade to the last day
a large group of Hellions and
whats that? A Damned in Atlas? They dont come here!
I try my hardest, but its not enough. Many of them fall, but that boss
he takes me. As I fall I swipe at the emergency teleport.
And nothing happens
As I lay on the floor I can see the control van. I see the officers and the suits standing there. Even at this distance I can see in their eyes that they know. That they disabled my transponder. The Damned walks into my field of view, leering
And everything goes black.
I wake in a small room - a hospital. The suit from the control van is there, watching me. He looks
uncomfortable. My dream-memory blurs events into one incongruous monologue, free of my inane, ranting responses
Youre resilient, Officer. Ill give you that. You managed to live through the little test. But Im afraid youre just not the right man for the project. Im giving it to Baker from Kings
and youre going to get lost in some paperwork somewhere
In recognition of your long service
we wont take you out of the picture as it were. Youll live, but as a non-entity. In the Zig.
Live? Yeah, right.
Time speeds by in my dream state, from hospital to ambulance to prison infirmary
to a cell.
To the first time I entered general populace.
My first fight. And loss.
The first time, late at night, that they came for me
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I awake with a start - a sound shattered my memories into a million shards and not a moment too soon. It is soon obvious what made me wake, as a series of explosions rock the prison down to its foundations.
All around me, inmates have begun to yell and scream - either in fear or the plethora of obscenities that, in this place, seem to greet any and all events. Suddenly the cell door begins to creak open and the jubilant whoops I hear are echoed in my mind - could this mean freedom?
To think that the last six months I have spent here might soon become a memory, I am ecstatic. I have changed a great deal in this time, and am consumed by thoughts of vengeance for every waking hour. Might the time for such be now?
My boots are on in a flash, and Im out the door. Whats going on? The inmates are milling around, talking, shouting and running around, seemingly at random.
Another explosion rocks the building, and Im temporarily thrown to the floor.
As I rise, I see a man - neither guard nor inmate - enter from the exercise yard. Dressed in white and red he looks like a prize-winning idiot
but hes armed, and I see a goal.
Launching myself up from the ground Im upon him in a second, trying to wrest the gun from his grip. Hes strong, but my momentum manages to put us both back on the floor, and with my superior position I have the advantage. Three strong head buts and he goes limp - a testament to how prison can change a man.
I rifle the guys equipment belt - a couple of grenades of some sort and spare clips for this insane gun of his. Yeah, thatll do.
Im out the door like the devil was on my heels, and running across the courtyard. There are other inmates here, and more of the red-and-whites. Theres also others - wearing weird helmets, carrying strange weapons.
I see that a couple of inmates have managed to get their gear from lockup, armoured villains suiting up as they run, others clad in all manner of styles running to the corner and
the strange looking aircraft that waits there.
Thoughts race through my head as I consider my options: do I go to this man? Who is he? What will I owe him for transit out of this hell hole?
Nah.
Turning, I sling the rifle and climb quickly up the chain link fence. As I drop down the other side, I find myself in the midst of a gunfight as more of these soldiers clash with the red-and-whites. It is carnage, but as the battle moves along this stretch I am able to bypass it.
Stooping, I loot more corpses. As an afterthought I take one of these bizarre looking helmets. Yes, it might afford me some protection but more importantly, where Im going, it will hide my face
