[adamu]

[Saturday September 14th, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

@Cutter

The fire lady smiled. "Me, I can get into it, but penetration's not in my job description. You, I can get onto it. Whaddaya say, cowboy, you ready to mount up?"

@Ghost

Glancing over toward Cutter, it was easy to see why he'd been too distracted to respond. But after a few moments of disturbing silence, Oblique responded to Ghost's general call for a sitrep. The dwarf's voice couldn't quite be characterized as panicked, but calm wouldn't have been quite the right word either. "Dammit, get you and all your people to train three. The girl is what their after, and that is the one thing you cannot let them have. They're converging on her there now."

And as if to confirm the circus boss's words, Ghost could see armed figures climbing up the crumpled links between cars, making for the north and south doors of the lead train's third car.

[adamu]

[Saturday September 14th, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

As the drones and spirit sped towards the train, Dogmeat scanned the virtual world at the site of the trouble. There was a host - a castle on a hill with two long eastern dragons perched atop it - obviously representing the trains. And there were flocks of other icons scattered around it - vehicles and personal commlinks doubtless belonging to both the train's occupants and its gaggle of outriders.

He was looking for something that corresponded to the position of the big vectored thrust T-bird, as it was the only thing he could see that was definitely hostile to the train. But bupkus, nada, zilch. He could find nothing there.

Switching over to the sensor feed from his drones, he got the usual rush as the POV rushed toward target like a deadly roller-coaster car, hugging terrain features as the little birds carried their sensor suites whizzing toward their destination. On the approach, he saw the LAV's automatic weapons fire, as well as some sort of explosion, tear a hole into the roof of the lead car on the third train, which a female form broke from cover and dove into.

Visual spectrum visibility on the ground was terrible, but on thermo he could see two figures approaching the train on foot from the west, and another two figures emerging from the trees on the east and splitting off to pincer the north and south ends of the lead land-train's third car.

And there were lots more - all up and down the train people were climbing aboard, others were climbing out. A few were on the roofs of other cars. More were inside the treeline to the east. And there were scattered vehicles ranging from bikes to RVs scattered around and trailing over the past half klick.

Not to mention the big zeppelin that hung motionless in the air about a hundred yards behind the train.

[gilga]

No icon? Dogmeat thought to himself, their computer guy seems to be good. Too bad we’re on different sides this time. I hope it is not anyone I like. He thought to himself, I obviously cannot hack what I cannot see… hacking will not bring us the win on this one we are too late for being polite. He turned off the deck.
 Switching to the drone feed; he saw the focused attack on that car.  There must be some item of value in there.  He issued an order to his dog of wars “Do not let anyone but me approach car 3, suppression fire preferred, direct targeting if they fire at you, Bad Dog or anyone in car 3.”
He issued another message in AR:  “little dog, race before me and enter car 3, I need the visual from inside.”  He set the car to autopilot, while taking cover in the trunk. This is no time to be a hero… I am too old for this shit… one last time. Get in, rescue the wounded and get away. During the bumpy way he sends another message to the circus security network:

@Team(Dogmeat):
Anyone is still alive in there? Charlie Shmidt my fixer sent me with reinforcements for the security. I have all the equipment but no context. So I am currently running my own show, if no one replies I assume you are all dead and will focus on evicting as many survivors as I can. Anyhow, do not approach the third car of the leading train; my drones are securing the area. If you are alive and want to help, contact me so I add you to the *NOT KILL* list.

His thoughts wonder as the ride proceeds, he focuses his thoughts and contact his spirit:
 “Bad Dog… no one is answering on the circus network, so I do my own thing. I started a rescue operation with the car … in my physical condition, it may also be goodbye.  I’ll appreciate it if you can enter that train car and understand what they are after.  The hostiles definitely seem interested in that car – there must be something important in there.  Good luck and thanks for your services i am coming to fight with you.
P.S if you take a look inside, let me know if you understand what they are after.

[All4BigGuns]

[Saturday September 14th, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

@Cutter

The fire lady smiled. "Me, I can get into it, but penetration's not in my job description. You, I can get onto it. Whaddaya say, cowboy, you ready to mount up?"

"Up, up and away, my Lady," Cutter says to the fire spirit with a wry grin, "Now, once I'm up there, I'd be oh so grateful if you could make a hole for me to get in. I'd really owe you one for that little favor."

OOC Note: I'd be willing to let the spirit have 5 points of the Karma I've earned up to this point from posting to "make a hole".

[adamu]

[Saturday September 14th, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

The she-flame smirked, and Cutter could see in her eyes all the crazy and unfathomable machinations his offer had conjured in her head.

Deal, Bonebag. Hang on.

They embraced, and they were aloft. She deftly avoided the gun's vector, and in a few breathless moments they were on the starboard wing of the bucking LAV next to the fuselage door.

Then she let go of him and disappeared.

Then Al, Ghost, Alicia and the others heard (or read, depending on their active media) the arrival of someone called Dogmeat, along with an immediate reply: @Dogmeat (L'Ombre Secforce) <<Nice timing. Oblique told us you were coming. Terrorists have seized third car, lead train. We are moving to recapture, approaching from east. Interdict their reinforcements from all other approaches. Deadly force authorized.>>

[gilga]

Then Al, Ghost, Alicia and the others heard (or read, depending on their active media) the arrival of someone called Dogmeat, along with an immediate reply: @Dogmeat (L'Ombre Secforce) <<Nice timing. Oblique told us you were coming. Terrorists have seized third car, lead train. We are moving to recapture, approaching from east. Interdict their reinforcements from all other approaches. Deadly force authorized.>>
[/quote]

Doogmeat, quickly changed orders do not fire to the east unless fired upon.
 "Do not let anyone but me approach from any other direction. Direct targeting is approved, ping me when you engage brave dogs - so I can jump in to help."

He then transferred the message to Bad Dog via mental link, adding " So some of them are still alive..."

He then text-ed back: @L'Ombre (L'Ombre Secforce) - Roger that, I am ordering my drones not to shoot at stuff from the east. They'll do their best to slow down anyone that come from all other directions. Contact me again before you brake in, I may have a couple of goodies for you.

[All4BigGuns]

[Thursday September 26th, 2075, Crime Mall, Puyallup, Seattle]

The she-flame smirked, and Cutter could see in her eyes all the crazy and unfathomable machinations his offer had conjured in her head.

Deal, Bonebag. Hang on.

They embraced, and they were aloft. She deftly avoided the gun's vector, and in a few breathless moments they were on the starboard wing of the bucking LAV next to the fuselage door.

Then she let go of him and disappeared.

Before the spirit releases him, Cutter grabs onto the door leading into the fuselage, giving a nod of thanks, and once the entity vanishes, he reaches for the emergency release on the door to open it and roll inside pulling his Colt back from its holster and slamming a fresh clip into it.

[adamu]

[Saturday September 14th, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

Dogmeat's transmission was met with a veritable flurry of replies. Those listening on voice media quickly lost any coherent feed amid the noise of simultaneous messages attempting to drown one another out. On a screen it was a bit easier to follow, if anyone but Dogmeat himself had time to pay attention - it seemed four or five new senders were claiming they were the circus's security force and to disregard the first message, while the first sender vehemently claimed they were the lone surviving element desperately in need of assistance.

And speaking of calls for assistance, the one thing Cutter heard over the roar of the thrusters through the open door was a voice from the T-bird's cockpit - "What the…I think they fucking boarded me, man. Where's that spirit cover?"

Which led Cutter to reflexively glance out the door, where he saw the look of surprise on the face of the fading fire elemental as some sort of ripple of turbulence struck it head on, and then there was an inrush of steam through the door, and it slammed shut.

He was left in a smallish cabin lined with six jump-seats - three on each side. In the one closest to the open cockpit door, a heavyset fellow with a bald, tat-covered head and earlobes that were stretched to his shoulders by silver and gold inserts was strapped in securely. A good thing since his head lolled helplessly. He would have looked dead if his fingers weren't still twitching in some sort of reflexive dance across the surface of a high-end deck.

Then the deck see-sawed as the bird abruptly started a steep climb. leaving the bold sammie scrambling for some sort of purchase.

[gilga]

Dogmeat understood that no new information will come out of this mess. He continued with his drone orders, and in order to escape the harsh reality transit in the safety of the trunk, he disengaged, and jumped into his invisible rotor drone.
Lets snoop inside, I hope they don't spot me, he thought as he maneuvered the drone into the hole in the car.
 

[adamu]

[Saturday September 14th, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

@Dogmeat

Descending gingerly through the hole, careful not to clip a rotor on dangling bits of debris, the drone/Dogmeat found it/himself in a tight supply closet, and on the floor was a moaning individual, though its sensor signature read more like a robot than a person. Virtually the entire exterior, at least, was metal, and the face was covered with some sort of mask.

The door to the closet was closed.

[All4BigGuns]

[Thursday September 26th, 2075, Crime Mall, Puyallup, Seattle]

Dogmeat's transmission was met with a veritable flurry of replies. Those listening on voice media quickly lost any coherent feed amid the noise of simultaneous messages attempting to drown one another out. On a screen it was a bit easier to follow, if anyone but Dogmeat himself had time to pay attention - it seemed four or five new senders were claiming they were the circus's security force and to disregard the first message, while the first sender vehemently claimed they were the lone surviving element desperately in need of assistance.

And speaking of calls for assistance, the one thing Cutter heard over the roar of the thrusters through the open door was a voice from the T-bird's cockpit - "What the…I think they fucking boarded me, man. Where's that spirit cover?"

Which led Cutter to reflexively glance out the door, where he saw the look of surprise on the face of the fading fire elemental as some sort of ripple of turbulence struck it head on, and then there was an inrush of steam through the door, and it slammed shut.

He was left in a smallish cabin lined with six jump-seats - three on each side. In the one closest to the open cockpit door, a heavyset fellow with a bald, tat-covered head and earlobes that were stretched to his shoulders by silver and gold inserts was strapped in securely. A good thing since his head lolled helplessly. He would have looked dead if his fingers weren't still twitching in some sort of reflexive dance across the surface of a high-end deck.

Then the deck see-sawed as the bird abruptly started a steep climb. leaving the bold sammie scrambling for some sort of purchase.

As the T-Bird begins its steep climb, Cutter rolls to the side and grabs hold of a cargo strap near the cockpit door. Not usually one to make himself so wide open, he decides to take a risk and sends an "all access pass" subscription invite to his team's decker along with a message //Right by the rigger. Think you could piggy back off my comm to hack his shit or fry his neurons?//

[adamu]

[Saturday September 14th, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

Morgan's reply was quick: <<After I fried that guy's RCC he pulled the plug, went totally offline. There's nothing I can do to him. Is their decker up there? That guy's a pain in the ass.>>

And speak of the devil, the round guy in the jump seat sat bolt upright, back in his meat.

And then the T-bird started shaking every which a way.

[All4BigGuns]

At the reply from the Decker, Cutter thinks to himself Fraggit all! Just can't be easy. With that he raises his Colt, takes aim on the jacked-in person near him and squeezes the trigger, saying in a whisper, "Go to hell, Fragger."

[gilga]

Dogmeat, carefully maneuvered outside of the hole, and then leave the drones to their mission. He jump in to the car and drive to that location, we have a robot to rescue, a tough creature like that, maybe it has some soul left,  he thought to himself.

I also wonder whats behind that closed door... he really wanted to check, but he also really wanted to make it back in one piece. He spent the rest of the drive figuring out if he was brave enough to open that door and possibly look armed terrorists in the eye.

[adamu]

[Saturday September 14th, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

Having climbed as high as its avionics would allow, the LAV was now fully inverted and in a 7 G dive, leaving Cutter hanging from the arm of a jumpseat by one hand as he watched the decker's brains explode out the back of his head.

The door to the cockpit had long-since slammed shut, as had the door by which he'd entered, and as the T-bird leveled out and started a series of barrel-rolls, Cutter knew it was only a matter of time before his organs turned to jelly.

Dogmeat's ride was only moderately smoother as his suspension was hopelessly overtaxed by his off-road race to the action.

The only thing in his world that did smooth out was the transmissions he was picking up - the first voice, the one that had told him his friendlies were approaching from the east, had gone suddenly silent.