DeletedUser25825
Secure laboratory, classified location, USA. 00:07 Jan. 01, 1986
Dr, Kurtis Jenkins, lead scientist and geneticist, laughed with the other scientists involved in Project: Genesis as he raised a paper cup filled with cheap champagne and ushered another year in, for the second time. They had all been involved, in their own ways, with the ongoing success of this project. They’d all been stuck in the secure facility for the past five years, some of them unwillingly, yet most believed in what they were doing. The previous year of the top secret project had produced several new revelations, the most important of which was successfully splicing certain gene sequences to produce desired results.
Dr, Jenkins sipped the foul tasting champagne and moved to his station. He laughed at some off-color joke being recited for the umpteenth time as he peered at results that were being spat from his state of the art dot matrix printer. The jubilance petered out immediately as his chair crashed to the floor when he excitedly stood up. He read the results, looked at the computer monitor, and back at the results. The other scientists gathered around him and whispered to each other at the unbelievable data they were all looking at. This new information changed everything.
Area 51, Groom Lake, Nevada USA. 16:00 Nov. 11, 2009
US Air Force Lieutenant General Louis Fromage and Brigadier General Trent Paulson marched down a stark white corridor toward two Senior Airmen. The two guards saluted the two generals, and one turned to quickly punch a code into a panel. There was an audible buzz, and he pulled the door they were guarding open. The two generals returned the salute and passed through the doorway into another security check.
A Staff Sergeant of the USAF rose to attention, saluting as the two generals entered the room and dropped it after he’d received a return salute. The room was bare except for a small desk and chair the SSGT had been sitting at and another door and security panel on the opposite wall. “Hello sirs”, the SSGT greeted the men, “Dr. Levin is waiting for you past the door. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to relinquish your sidearm sirs. General Platt’s orders are no weapons beyond this point.”
Both men un-holstered their Beretta M9 pistols and set them on the desk. The SSGT walked to the door and punched a code into the security panel. After an audible buzz, he pulled the door open and allowed the two men to pass.
Once through the door, the generals found Dr. Levin standing in the hallway. Dr. Levin was a man in his late fifties, with thinning gray hair and wearing gray slacks and a predictable white lab coat. He smiled at the two officers, greeted each and shook their hands. “If you’ll follow me”, he invited the men.
The three walked down a white hallway as Dr. Levin spoke. “Gentlemen, as you know, the US Air Force has been funding an ongoing top secret program code named Genesis at this location. In the later months of 1998, the first successful and fully functional prototype was initiated into the final stages of the Genesis project. Several years thereafter, several more prototypes have been integrated into the program. These prototypes have been housed here, while receiving instruction, calibration, and honing individual design specifications. We’re quite impressed by the indicated results thus far, and I am certainly looking forward to learning of the results of field testing!”
The three turned a corner and continued down a hallway lined with a total of ten doors, five lining each wall. Dr. Levin pointed at the doors as he continued, “These are where the prototypes are secured.” Fromage asked, “Are the prototypes present?” Dr. Levin shook his head, and Fromage asked, “May we see a room?” Dr. Levin nodded and moved to the nearest door. He pulled a ring of keys from his pocket, selected one, unlocked the door, and pulled it open before stepping aside.
The two generals leaned in to look at a sparsely furnished room. It contained a neatly made bed, a chair and writing desk, all of which were bolted to the floor, a bare shelf, and a single crudely drawn picture of a butterfly. Dr. Levin stated, “This room belongs to B99-1903. Um, we call her Jaunt.” The generals nodded and straightened as Dr. Levin shut and re-secured the door. Fromage asked, “What is B9… what is Jaunt’s design function?”
Dr. Levin began walking again and said, “She’s a precog.” He looked at the two, noting their confusion, and continued, “I’m sorry. She’s precognitive. She can see and hear future events.” Paulson asked, “Are all the rooms similar?”
Dr. Levin nodded, and then shook his head. “Same design, but I assume you mean amenities. Jaunt is just… not very caring about material things. There are others that have many more things and decorations.”
The men headed to the end of the corridor, and Dr. Levin began punching a code into the security panel. Fromage asked, “Why don’t you electronically secure them in the rooms?” Dr. Levin replied, “Well… A00-1706… he’s our cyberpathic… um… can manipulate electronic systems with his mind. Anyways, he kept breaking himself and the others out so we had to mechanically lock them up.” Dr. Levin opened the door, as the two generals smiled at each other and stepped through to meet the Air Force’s investments in the flesh.
Kessington Building, New York City, New York, Present Day
Captain Lisken, NYPD SWAT, was not having a good day. He stood in his command unit and listened to constant updated reports from his strike teams, snipers, and negotiators, and closed his eyes as he replayed the last three hours in his head. The first lady had arrived at the Kessington Building to support a fundraiser dinner at 2000. He had been apprised of this appearance, and had taken several precautionary steps in cooperation with the US Secret Service, but at 2030, that an unknown number of individuals had taken several hostages, including the First Lady.
Within fifteen minutes, several audacious demands came from the hostage takers, who seemed to be a very well trained team. They knew counter measures to every trick in the bag to get this situation resolved. They released all hostages except for the First Lady, whom they threatened to kill if demands were not met within four hours. He had thirty minutes left.
He was rubbing his temples as he tried to think of another way to get anything in the building when a report of several black Escalades being allowed entry into the cordoned off zone made him groan. “Great” he muttered, “just what I fricking need. Feds.” He climbed down the few steps onto the pavement, and watched the Escalades driving down the street.
They pulled up by the command unit and the driver of the front vehicle climbed out. He was a tall black man, wearing the typical black suit and tie, and immediately walked toward Lisken. “I'm Agent in Charge Barry Fitchner of the New York Office of the Secret Service. Are you in charge?” He asked.
Lisken nodded and said, “Yes. I’m Captain Vernon Lisken of the NYPD.” Lisken couldn’t believe his ears. Since when did the Secret Service have anything to do with hostage situations? Sure, they were responsible for the protection details of US Government dignitaries, so they had jurisdiction, but to take over this situation was audacious. Lisken was willing to play nice for now. He’d gotten nowhere in two and a half hours. Fitchner nodded and turned. He circled his hand and the doors of the Escalades all opened. The agents that climbed out were nothing like Lisken had seen before.
The individuals were all wearing black BDU’s without any markings or names. Stranger still, they were all wearing balaclavas that concealed everything but their eyes before they climbed out. Six of them moved to the backs of the Escalades and pulled out gear bags. They quickly armed themselves with suppressed weapons and lined up as a breaching stick by the rear of the last Escalade. Lisken scoffed at this. He moved to Fitchner who was speaking to a short female agent. Lisken said, “You’re not seriously considering a breach are you? I haven't briefed you on the situation, our actions… anything.”
Fitchner nodded and handed the small agent architectural plans of the building. She spread them out on a nearby squad. Fitchner said, “I know you mean well, but we’ve been briefed by an inside person. I think we’ll have this situation resolved soon.” Lisken shook his head and stalked off into the command unit as Fitchner walked over to the female agent. On the plus side, any screw up from this point on would be on Fitchner's head, that being thought, Lisken looked to his communications officer and ordered, “Find their frequency, I want to hear this.”
Within moments, Lisken heard a female voice say, “Strike team. Ready on my signal.” There was a thirty second pregnant pause and then she said methodically and without excitement, “Go. Go. Go.” Lisken peered out the command unit and saw the stick of agents quickly move through open space directly toward the front door. It was crazy! These agents were marching through open space, open to any observation, and didn't seem to give two flicks about it. He frowned and looked at Fitchner and the agent, who was resting her hand on the plans. Lisken was further amazed to see neither Fitchner or the agent were even looking at the building. “What the hell?” he asked. He looked back at the building as the stick stopped at the front door.
He heard a male voice advise, “Security system online Mouse.” The female voice advised, “No eyes in control room, you’re clear.” The same male voice immediately advised, “Security system looped. Breaching door.” Lisken looked at his communications officer and asked, "How in the hell did they piggyback into the building's security system? There isn't even an access point?" The officer shrugged helplessly in response.
The female, who Lisken now thought of as Mouse, advised, “Strike team be advised two hostiles in one two stairwell.” There was a pause, and then Mouse advised, “Targets preoccupied with smoking and discussion concerning chances of survival. Clear for traverse of hallway one and two to enter two three stairwell.” There were three minutes of silence before the male’s voice asked, “Mouse. Planned course of entry accomplished. Strike team is standing by in third floor two three stairwell on your signal.”
Mouse almost immediately responded, “Strike team be advised the package is in third room to left from two three stairwell. Package is being guarded by two hostiles armed with P90 sub-machine guns which are currently slung. One sentry is currently in third floor number two hallway. Hold position until advised” There was a momentary pause and then Mouse advised, “Strike team be advised sentry is now in third floor number one hallway. Clear of sentry for one minute fifteen seconds. Go. Go. Go.”
Lisken couldn’t believe anything he was hearing. He looked at the building, and then at the two agents hovering over the plans on the squad’s hood nearby. He watched his watch and at fifty seconds he heard the male advise, “Package delivered. Strike team rapelling out two side of building in twenty seconds.” Lisken looked out at the agents, and saw them stand and “Mouse” began folding up the plans. She walked to the third Escalade and opened the door. Lisken couldn't believe what he saw in the brief moments it took Mouse to climb into the Escalade. As the dome light switched on, he saw another male agent removing his balaclava speaking to none other than the First Lady seated next to him and who looked dazed and extremely confused. Mouse shut the door as Fitchner climbed into the command unit.
Lisken looked at him and opened his mouth to say something, only to be cut off by Fitchner who said, “Thank you for your assistance gentlemen. Once my team is back, I can assure you that the only people in that building are those responsible." Lisken exploded in cursing and demands, which Fitchner pointedly ignored as he moved back to his Escalade, shutting the door. Lisken slammed on the window, still making demands, as the stick of agents returned from around the building. Lisken tried to intervene as he noticed there were now only five. He demanded to know their names, and what was going on, but they too ignored him as they climbed into the front two Escalades, and nearly ran Lisken over as they started their vehicles up and pulled out.
To say he was livid would be an understatement. To say he was baffled, even more so, when later the First Lady made a television appearance to thank the efforts of the NYPD SWAT for her rescue. Lisken had a hunch, called the Secret Service, and of course learned there was no AIC Barry Fitchner.
_________________________________________
Welcome to Ghost Squad
You are a member of an elite USAF squad of soldiers referred to as Ghost Squad. You are top secret government property, and don't exist. The reason you don't exist, is you were never born. You were incubated as a genetically engineered adult clone in a top secret laboratory in Montana and transported to Area 51. For the past ten plus years you have lived and trained with other individuals like you, each with an ability differing from your own. The engineering allowed you to access brain function that is either dormant or not evolved in the human mind, but none the less allows you to perform psychic phenomenon. The USAF has classified these phenomenon as follows;
Anti-Psy: The power to negate psychic phenomenon. This ability can be focused to specific target(s), or blanket a general area.
Bio-Control: The power to completely control your own body function. Including, slowing or speeding regeneration, stopping heart rate, breathing, pain response, and so on.
Clairvoyance: The ability to see and hear situations in distant locales.
Cyberkinesis: The ability to manipulate technology and mechanical devices.
Cyberpathy: The ability to access and operate software systems without physical access.
Precognition: The ability to fortell events prior to them occurring (Not accurate)
Psychic Healing: The ability to manipulate healing response to extreme degree (Cure cancer, AIDS, psychic surgery)
Psychometry: The ability to see and hear past events attached to objects.
Pychoportation: The ability to transport self and equal amount of weight from one place to different locale in sight.
Pyrokinesis: The ability to start fire.
Telekinesis: The ability to move objects of varying weights at varying speeds
Telepathy: The ability to read and project thought
The Rules: Of course, all the rules of forum and campfire stories apply. No God mode, no character kills without extremely good storyline (and preferably player's previous permission), base equipment on modern tech and don't forget you're govt. property. Just like the military. You're told what you do, what you own, and how you should act.
Should you choose to play one of these individuals, the rules are simple. You are unique, and only you have the power you choose. (Yes, that means, first come first serve.) The character sheet is as follows...
Ghost Squad Member
ID: (This is a letter A, B, or C (A is first batch, C last), last two digits of year you were cloned (between 98 - 03), and four digits (day and month).
Name: (What you're referred to as when not an ID. One name without surname)
Power: (Pick one that's not picked)
Appearance: (Whatever your heart's desire)
Personality: (How you act, and are perceived)
Bio: (About the same for all of you. You were cloned and have been at Area 51 since)
And... lastly... because it's my game... I'm pickin' first
___________________________________________
ID: B00-1607
Name: Mouse
Power: Clairvoyance
Appearance: Mouse stands at 5'0" and weighs 110 pounds. She is innocently attractive. Her eyes are blue and her long hair is blond. She possesses an athletic form from ten years of military conditioning.
Personality: Mouse is quiet and reserved. She is completely reliable as she is the eyes and ears for the team on missions. Otherwise, she keeps to herself mostly.
Dr, Kurtis Jenkins, lead scientist and geneticist, laughed with the other scientists involved in Project: Genesis as he raised a paper cup filled with cheap champagne and ushered another year in, for the second time. They had all been involved, in their own ways, with the ongoing success of this project. They’d all been stuck in the secure facility for the past five years, some of them unwillingly, yet most believed in what they were doing. The previous year of the top secret project had produced several new revelations, the most important of which was successfully splicing certain gene sequences to produce desired results.
Dr, Jenkins sipped the foul tasting champagne and moved to his station. He laughed at some off-color joke being recited for the umpteenth time as he peered at results that were being spat from his state of the art dot matrix printer. The jubilance petered out immediately as his chair crashed to the floor when he excitedly stood up. He read the results, looked at the computer monitor, and back at the results. The other scientists gathered around him and whispered to each other at the unbelievable data they were all looking at. This new information changed everything.
Area 51, Groom Lake, Nevada USA. 16:00 Nov. 11, 2009
US Air Force Lieutenant General Louis Fromage and Brigadier General Trent Paulson marched down a stark white corridor toward two Senior Airmen. The two guards saluted the two generals, and one turned to quickly punch a code into a panel. There was an audible buzz, and he pulled the door they were guarding open. The two generals returned the salute and passed through the doorway into another security check.
A Staff Sergeant of the USAF rose to attention, saluting as the two generals entered the room and dropped it after he’d received a return salute. The room was bare except for a small desk and chair the SSGT had been sitting at and another door and security panel on the opposite wall. “Hello sirs”, the SSGT greeted the men, “Dr. Levin is waiting for you past the door. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to relinquish your sidearm sirs. General Platt’s orders are no weapons beyond this point.”
Both men un-holstered their Beretta M9 pistols and set them on the desk. The SSGT walked to the door and punched a code into the security panel. After an audible buzz, he pulled the door open and allowed the two men to pass.
Once through the door, the generals found Dr. Levin standing in the hallway. Dr. Levin was a man in his late fifties, with thinning gray hair and wearing gray slacks and a predictable white lab coat. He smiled at the two officers, greeted each and shook their hands. “If you’ll follow me”, he invited the men.
The three walked down a white hallway as Dr. Levin spoke. “Gentlemen, as you know, the US Air Force has been funding an ongoing top secret program code named Genesis at this location. In the later months of 1998, the first successful and fully functional prototype was initiated into the final stages of the Genesis project. Several years thereafter, several more prototypes have been integrated into the program. These prototypes have been housed here, while receiving instruction, calibration, and honing individual design specifications. We’re quite impressed by the indicated results thus far, and I am certainly looking forward to learning of the results of field testing!”
The three turned a corner and continued down a hallway lined with a total of ten doors, five lining each wall. Dr. Levin pointed at the doors as he continued, “These are where the prototypes are secured.” Fromage asked, “Are the prototypes present?” Dr. Levin shook his head, and Fromage asked, “May we see a room?” Dr. Levin nodded and moved to the nearest door. He pulled a ring of keys from his pocket, selected one, unlocked the door, and pulled it open before stepping aside.
The two generals leaned in to look at a sparsely furnished room. It contained a neatly made bed, a chair and writing desk, all of which were bolted to the floor, a bare shelf, and a single crudely drawn picture of a butterfly. Dr. Levin stated, “This room belongs to B99-1903. Um, we call her Jaunt.” The generals nodded and straightened as Dr. Levin shut and re-secured the door. Fromage asked, “What is B9… what is Jaunt’s design function?”
Dr. Levin began walking again and said, “She’s a precog.” He looked at the two, noting their confusion, and continued, “I’m sorry. She’s precognitive. She can see and hear future events.” Paulson asked, “Are all the rooms similar?”
Dr. Levin nodded, and then shook his head. “Same design, but I assume you mean amenities. Jaunt is just… not very caring about material things. There are others that have many more things and decorations.”
The men headed to the end of the corridor, and Dr. Levin began punching a code into the security panel. Fromage asked, “Why don’t you electronically secure them in the rooms?” Dr. Levin replied, “Well… A00-1706… he’s our cyberpathic… um… can manipulate electronic systems with his mind. Anyways, he kept breaking himself and the others out so we had to mechanically lock them up.” Dr. Levin opened the door, as the two generals smiled at each other and stepped through to meet the Air Force’s investments in the flesh.
Kessington Building, New York City, New York, Present Day
Captain Lisken, NYPD SWAT, was not having a good day. He stood in his command unit and listened to constant updated reports from his strike teams, snipers, and negotiators, and closed his eyes as he replayed the last three hours in his head. The first lady had arrived at the Kessington Building to support a fundraiser dinner at 2000. He had been apprised of this appearance, and had taken several precautionary steps in cooperation with the US Secret Service, but at 2030, that an unknown number of individuals had taken several hostages, including the First Lady.
Within fifteen minutes, several audacious demands came from the hostage takers, who seemed to be a very well trained team. They knew counter measures to every trick in the bag to get this situation resolved. They released all hostages except for the First Lady, whom they threatened to kill if demands were not met within four hours. He had thirty minutes left.
He was rubbing his temples as he tried to think of another way to get anything in the building when a report of several black Escalades being allowed entry into the cordoned off zone made him groan. “Great” he muttered, “just what I fricking need. Feds.” He climbed down the few steps onto the pavement, and watched the Escalades driving down the street.
They pulled up by the command unit and the driver of the front vehicle climbed out. He was a tall black man, wearing the typical black suit and tie, and immediately walked toward Lisken. “I'm Agent in Charge Barry Fitchner of the New York Office of the Secret Service. Are you in charge?” He asked.
Lisken nodded and said, “Yes. I’m Captain Vernon Lisken of the NYPD.” Lisken couldn’t believe his ears. Since when did the Secret Service have anything to do with hostage situations? Sure, they were responsible for the protection details of US Government dignitaries, so they had jurisdiction, but to take over this situation was audacious. Lisken was willing to play nice for now. He’d gotten nowhere in two and a half hours. Fitchner nodded and turned. He circled his hand and the doors of the Escalades all opened. The agents that climbed out were nothing like Lisken had seen before.
The individuals were all wearing black BDU’s without any markings or names. Stranger still, they were all wearing balaclavas that concealed everything but their eyes before they climbed out. Six of them moved to the backs of the Escalades and pulled out gear bags. They quickly armed themselves with suppressed weapons and lined up as a breaching stick by the rear of the last Escalade. Lisken scoffed at this. He moved to Fitchner who was speaking to a short female agent. Lisken said, “You’re not seriously considering a breach are you? I haven't briefed you on the situation, our actions… anything.”
Fitchner nodded and handed the small agent architectural plans of the building. She spread them out on a nearby squad. Fitchner said, “I know you mean well, but we’ve been briefed by an inside person. I think we’ll have this situation resolved soon.” Lisken shook his head and stalked off into the command unit as Fitchner walked over to the female agent. On the plus side, any screw up from this point on would be on Fitchner's head, that being thought, Lisken looked to his communications officer and ordered, “Find their frequency, I want to hear this.”
Within moments, Lisken heard a female voice say, “Strike team. Ready on my signal.” There was a thirty second pregnant pause and then she said methodically and without excitement, “Go. Go. Go.” Lisken peered out the command unit and saw the stick of agents quickly move through open space directly toward the front door. It was crazy! These agents were marching through open space, open to any observation, and didn't seem to give two flicks about it. He frowned and looked at Fitchner and the agent, who was resting her hand on the plans. Lisken was further amazed to see neither Fitchner or the agent were even looking at the building. “What the hell?” he asked. He looked back at the building as the stick stopped at the front door.
He heard a male voice advise, “Security system online Mouse.” The female voice advised, “No eyes in control room, you’re clear.” The same male voice immediately advised, “Security system looped. Breaching door.” Lisken looked at his communications officer and asked, "How in the hell did they piggyback into the building's security system? There isn't even an access point?" The officer shrugged helplessly in response.
The female, who Lisken now thought of as Mouse, advised, “Strike team be advised two hostiles in one two stairwell.” There was a pause, and then Mouse advised, “Targets preoccupied with smoking and discussion concerning chances of survival. Clear for traverse of hallway one and two to enter two three stairwell.” There were three minutes of silence before the male’s voice asked, “Mouse. Planned course of entry accomplished. Strike team is standing by in third floor two three stairwell on your signal.”
Mouse almost immediately responded, “Strike team be advised the package is in third room to left from two three stairwell. Package is being guarded by two hostiles armed with P90 sub-machine guns which are currently slung. One sentry is currently in third floor number two hallway. Hold position until advised” There was a momentary pause and then Mouse advised, “Strike team be advised sentry is now in third floor number one hallway. Clear of sentry for one minute fifteen seconds. Go. Go. Go.”
Lisken couldn’t believe anything he was hearing. He looked at the building, and then at the two agents hovering over the plans on the squad’s hood nearby. He watched his watch and at fifty seconds he heard the male advise, “Package delivered. Strike team rapelling out two side of building in twenty seconds.” Lisken looked out at the agents, and saw them stand and “Mouse” began folding up the plans. She walked to the third Escalade and opened the door. Lisken couldn't believe what he saw in the brief moments it took Mouse to climb into the Escalade. As the dome light switched on, he saw another male agent removing his balaclava speaking to none other than the First Lady seated next to him and who looked dazed and extremely confused. Mouse shut the door as Fitchner climbed into the command unit.
Lisken looked at him and opened his mouth to say something, only to be cut off by Fitchner who said, “Thank you for your assistance gentlemen. Once my team is back, I can assure you that the only people in that building are those responsible." Lisken exploded in cursing and demands, which Fitchner pointedly ignored as he moved back to his Escalade, shutting the door. Lisken slammed on the window, still making demands, as the stick of agents returned from around the building. Lisken tried to intervene as he noticed there were now only five. He demanded to know their names, and what was going on, but they too ignored him as they climbed into the front two Escalades, and nearly ran Lisken over as they started their vehicles up and pulled out.
To say he was livid would be an understatement. To say he was baffled, even more so, when later the First Lady made a television appearance to thank the efforts of the NYPD SWAT for her rescue. Lisken had a hunch, called the Secret Service, and of course learned there was no AIC Barry Fitchner.
_________________________________________
Welcome to Ghost Squad
You are a member of an elite USAF squad of soldiers referred to as Ghost Squad. You are top secret government property, and don't exist. The reason you don't exist, is you were never born. You were incubated as a genetically engineered adult clone in a top secret laboratory in Montana and transported to Area 51. For the past ten plus years you have lived and trained with other individuals like you, each with an ability differing from your own. The engineering allowed you to access brain function that is either dormant or not evolved in the human mind, but none the less allows you to perform psychic phenomenon. The USAF has classified these phenomenon as follows;
Cyberkinesis: The ability to manipulate technology and mechanical devices.
The Rules: Of course, all the rules of forum and campfire stories apply. No God mode, no character kills without extremely good storyline (and preferably player's previous permission), base equipment on modern tech and don't forget you're govt. property. Just like the military. You're told what you do, what you own, and how you should act.
Should you choose to play one of these individuals, the rules are simple. You are unique, and only you have the power you choose. (Yes, that means, first come first serve.) The character sheet is as follows...
Ghost Squad Member
ID: (This is a letter A, B, or C (A is first batch, C last), last two digits of year you were cloned (between 98 - 03), and four digits (day and month).
Name: (What you're referred to as when not an ID. One name without surname)
Power: (Pick one that's not picked)
Appearance: (Whatever your heart's desire)
Personality: (How you act, and are perceived)
Bio: (About the same for all of you. You were cloned and have been at Area 51 since)
And... lastly... because it's my game... I'm pickin' first
___________________________________________
ID: B00-1607
Name: Mouse
Power: Clairvoyance
Appearance: Mouse stands at 5'0" and weighs 110 pounds. She is innocently attractive. Her eyes are blue and her long hair is blond. She possesses an athletic form from ten years of military conditioning.
Personality: Mouse is quiet and reserved. She is completely reliable as she is the eyes and ears for the team on missions. Otherwise, she keeps to herself mostly.
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