Shadowrun
Shadowrun Play => Play-by-Post => Topic started by: martinchaen on <09-01-14/0921:41>
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[Vulcan International HQ, O’Hare International Aerospaceport, Chicago, May 2076]
Colonel Viktor Samuels was not a learned man, but he had read Julius Caesar by Shakespeare. He finished the phrase with a smile. “And let slip the dogs of war”. The streets of the Redmond Barrens had been no place to learn how to read, but despite all odds he’d done it. “Wasn’t there some gang that used to call themselves the Dogs of War. Ran the 8th street operations... Well, at least until the Halloweeners burned them all alive. Piece of drek psychos.” The aging troll shook his head in wonder. Three decades later and here he was; sitting comfortably in his very own office, in charge of hundreds of men deployed all over the United Canadian and American States.
“Who’d have thought a gutter rat…”
Before he could finish the thought, two solid raps sounded on the door. He quickly scanned his AR feed from the security cameras in the hall, and chuckled to himself while he keyed up the relevant files on his terminal. “Trust the good Captain to be early for a damned briefing…”
“Enter!” he shouted as he rose from his chair, nearly putting his horns through the ceiling fan again. “Fraggin’ barracks, made for breeders every damned one of them…”
“Reporting for duty, sir” August said quietly as he entered and snapped to attention.
“At ease, Captain” Samuels answered with a half-hearted salute. August was a good man; high mission success ratio, team performance well above average, relatively few losses all things considered; definitely a driven man. “Shame about his wife” the troll thought to himself as he keyed up the trid projector and prepared to run through the briefing.
“All right, I got a two-pronged job for you this time around; a high priority rescue op from a big-time client, and a reccie tagged on from up top, both on-the-double. I’m not gonna bullshit you, son, this one is high-risk, but the payment reflects it; three hundred for the rescue, another one-fifty for the sneak-and-peek. The catch: you’ll need to go in nova hot smack-dab on the border of the old Cermak blast zone.” With a flick of his hand, the trid projector changed from the Vulcan International logo to a tactical map of the area.
“We’ve identified a suitable LZ for your bird right here, place called Lake Meadows Park just off of the old 31st Street Harbor. You’ll need to proceed by ground to 26th and State, the last known location of one Dr. Emily Clay and her 4-man security team.” The old Colonel brought up a trid of the doctor working in some sort of lab before proceeding. “Before you ask; no, they’re not ours. The doctor saw fit to hire inferior troops from Blackshield Security, who’ve got little to no experience in the CZ. Locate and retrieve the good doctor; the security team is considered “non-essential” by command, but I’m asking you to see what you can do. You and I both know that nobody deserves that kind of fate…” He switched the projection back to an enhanced view of the operational area.
“Along the way, scope out the eastern shore of the South Branch River. Radiation is going to get heavy the closer you are to the river, so stay frosty; word is a termite shaman has set up shop on the riverbank and is trying to awaken a hive that was left in torpor by the Cermak blast, FAB-III, or both. This is eyes only; do not engage under any circumstance.” The troll gave the human a pointed look to emphasize his last point.
“Questions, Captain?”
Meanwhile, outside Hangar 29 across the runway from VI HQ, several war-torn veterans were celebrating their good fortunes with an old-fashioned BBQ. Someone had managed to get a hold of an actual, honest-to-god pig, probably from the Northside farm off of what was left of I-94 but nobody cared to ask.
The hangar served as both living space, workshop, storage, and garage for Viper team, and for the last two years they had been pulling in one mission after another. There had been some losses, of course, but overall the team was functioning well. Black Betty, the team’s very own GMC Banshee, and Hellcat, their heavily armed Humvee, both sat nestled in the hangar fueled up and ready to go, but with any luck everyone would have a couple of days of R&R before going back into the Zone.
Luck, of course, is a cruel mistress, and for the men and women of Viper team Luck may be about to change.
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“This is eyes only; do not engage under any circumstance.” The troll gave the human a pointed look to emphasize his last point.
“Questions, Captain?”
August noted the look from Col. Samuels. Seems he still blames me for the frag-up at Rogers Park. There was nothing that could've been done as far as August was concerned, but he took his lashes like a soldier, and didn't harbor any ill-will toward Samuels. The troll had COs to appease himself, after all. Still, thank Ghost Weedy was there. August turned over the job in his head. Seemed straight forward enough. Play a little peek-a-boo, rescue someone who has no damned business being were they are, get out with everyone in one piece. Easy-peazy, with a side of the CZ and a dash of the Cermak crater. What could go wrong? The Blackshield boys and girls were going to be a real wildcard here, though. New boys on the block always have something to prove, and street cred always comes at someone's expense. Plus, there were BS's peculiar hiring practices to keep in mind. August made a mental note to talk with Gale about that one.
"Sir, a few questions, yes, sir. When was Dr. Clay's last communication with her HQ? Do we know what kind of loads the Blackshield men are running, sir, or any standing passwords for friendlies? I'm assuming it would be too much to ask that she, or any of her equipment is outfitted with security tags? I'll do what I can for the Blackshield mercs, but, respectfully, my guess is that if they're still alive they're staying that way by shootin' first and finding out who later. I'm not going to risk my soldiers or my objective on the goodwill of amateurs."
August waited for the Col. to answer before switching gears. "Do we have any actionable intel on the termite shaman, or are we running blind here, sir? Any word on who it might be working with, or any disturbances that I should know about?"
"Additionally, sir, there is our hazard pay to be discussed. As you know, every run is a hazard run with VI, and my soldiers have the proper equipment to bring to bear here, but running that close to the Cermak crater brings some further complications. Have any additional funds been allocated for that aspect of the operation, sir?"
When all was said and done, August downloaded the OPORD and associated documents, waited to be dismissed, and made a crisp salute toward Col. Samuels at the appropriate time.
August makes his way to Hangar 29, and is assaulted with the smell of good smoked meat as he enters. Sure hope this isn't long pork he thinks at the sight of the grills and notes the group milling about and generally having what might be considered a good time. Shame to break up the party.
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"I Wanna Rock and Roll All Nii'eeeeeeeiiiiiieeeeght......." Wires sings loudly and very off key while he stands at the grill flipping veggie kabobs, grilled corn on the cob, and all sort of assorted sides to go with the pig that was roasting on the spit in the smoker he had welded up. He was dancing around dressed in his normal crazy attire. The most atrociously loud Hawaiian shirt hanging wide open, cut-off cargo pants and untied combat boots.
His fly-spies were buzzing around the hanger in some sort of weird dogfight over, around and under wherever Weedy happened to be. Always flying just out of reach when she tried to swat them.
He grabs up his special assortment of seasonings and sauces and yells over the music "Which of you babies are gonna cry this time about my atomic flavoring?" which from the last time everyone painfully remembers he had cooked had left them feeling like they had ate the exhaust from the Banshee. As it entered and exited their system.
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76...77...78...79...80...
Nothing exists for the small framed woman right now. Nothing but the bar. Up and down she heaves her body at a steady pace, her biceps straining from the effort and sweat pouring down her face. She counts in her head, only vaguely aware of the fly spies zipping around her, trying to break her concentration.
81...82...83...84...
She can hear that shitty excuse for rock music that Wires liked to play whenever he wanted to bother her. Poison, she thinks it is. Or is this the KISS version? For just a moment, her concentration falters and her pace slows just a bit. She doubles her effort to try and stay in time.
85...86...87...88...89...90...91...92...
A smell begins to wind its way into her nose. It's small and subtle at first, just a light tickling at he rear of her throat, then growing larger and more acrid as the seconds go by. I know that smell. What IS that? Oh GOD it's that frakkin SAUCE of his. My ass was- Again, she breaks concentration and again she forces her bulging, exhausted muscles to go faster to make up the time.
93...94...95...96...97...98...99...
"A HUNDRED, MOTHER FUCKER!" She drops the 3 feet to the ground from the chin up bar, landing with a loud -THUMP- as her combat boots smack the hangar floor. Her green wifebeater shirt is drenched in sweat and her cropped curly hair glistens with the stuff as well, making the green stripe down the center stand out even more than normal. She stretches her arms above her head and loudly cracks her knuckles, showing off her unshaven armpits as she does. She turns and starts proudly walking toward the grill while giving the finger to one of the fly spies. Sonofabitch tried every frakkin trick in the book to screw me up. The drones, the music, even the god damn hot sauce. I gotta make the geezer pay for this one.
With her head tilted back in pride, she speaks to Wires. "So... How's the pig there, Bro?" She pokes one flank of meat with her index finger, noting the red juice that flows out when she does. "Ooooooh." she says in a tone of mock concern. "Looks like it still aint quite finished yet, huh? And here I am having completed the hundred chin-ups already. A bet's a bet, huh chummer?" At this point, she's kinda getting off on the look of defeat and aggravation on the old bastards face, so she decides to milk it for just a little bit longer for the entertainment of the rest of the team. "Now, WHAT was it that you have to do for me now? I forget." she says with only the smallest hint of joking on her dead serious face. Anyone but Wires might miss it.
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Chuck was relaxing in a rickety lawn chair puffing on his cigar when Wires issued his challenge. Chuck chuckled a bit and responded in kind, "Light me up, chummer!"
It was a good night, and Chuck wasn't going to waste it. He had Mr. Burns acquire a real bottle of Jack from back home just for a night like this. Chuck opened the bottle and poured himself a drink. "This'n's on me if'n you ladies got a taste for the good stuff." Might as well have some fun with the boys 'n girls while we can. Lord knows when the cap'n'll find us somethin' to do.
Chuck glanced over at the drones harassing Weedy and shook his head. He winked at her and popped a taunt off at wires, "If ya flew the bird half as well as them drones..."
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Wires did look frustrated at first when Weedy called him out on losing the bet. Damn little smartass! He rumbled and grumbled under his breath but there was still a twinkle in his eye as he looked down on the little sweaty hooligan. Reaching up he grabbed the sleeves of the Hawaiian shirt and pulled it off. It only took a moment and the thing was in the smoker's firepit and up in flames.
He stretched letting out a big gut-shaking laugh. "You know that was my favorite shirt."
He then reached over poured himself a shot of Chuck's good whiskey. He slammed the shot glass down and gave Chuck a one finger salute. "I think I fly this bird pretty well myself." Followed by another big laugh.
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Gale watched bemusedly as Wires committed dinner. It wasn’t that his food was bad per se, humans just weren’t meant to eat whatever it was he put into that secret sauce of his. Damned tasty though, until your taste buds just gave up and went home for the night.
About the time that Wires is doing the world a favour by ridding it of that horrid shirt Gale notices that August is approaching with a look on his face that speaks of less than pleasant news. "August. You look like a man on a mission, please tell me we’ll have to deploy before Wires tries to make us eat this poor pig."
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Jack was working on his gear near the group waiting for the pig to be roasted. Being the newest guy on the group, he had put in a requisition to be stationed here after openings started to pop up. While they may of been on many different missions together and know how to work with each other, Jack still feels like they expect him to be the man that was in his spot before instead of how Jack is. He would shake his head of the thought and have hit kit out. Betty and Simone were out in full glory, the turrets unloaded, but still running through target acquisition and control. They were both following the spy drones with near pin-point accuracy, Simone having another hitch in its system. 'God damn system still hasn't recovered when I gave Wires admin control that one time. They only traverse so far.' He would think to himself as he worked on the kink, getting it close to as fixed as he could. If he had some paintball rounds, he would set the turrets to disregard the safety feature he has locked in for the drones and hit them out of the sky, but he didn't. He would take another drink of his Jack and Coke as he turned back to the group.
"Oi, easy on the motor oil this time with your special sauce. I'd rather not lose the lower track of my intestines to cyber counterparts." He would say when Wires talked about bitching. Seeing Weedy win some bet with Wires was good to see, she always tried to one up everyone 'cept the Cap. Watching Wires favorite shirt go up in flames made his day go better at the very least. "Finally, the item that has assaulted my sense of sight and deadened me to the colors of the rich Chi-Town is gone and I can rest easy. 'Til my dreams turn to nightmares and I fraggin see that vomit of a rainbow start to chase after me. Or maybe that's just the Bells Palsy giving me vivide hallucinations. Still haven't figured that out yet. Anyways, is the boar done or you going to let it crisp up like bacon or worse, char it?" He would say, trying to join in on the fun. Whether it worked it was anyones guess, but he was trying to get initiated in the group. Its hard though when you are one of the few not cybered up.
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He stretched letting out a big gut-shaking laugh. "You know that was my favorite shirt."
"You say that about every damn one of those things, Wires." She elbows him in the ribs. "Besides, look at those abs! I'm just trying to show these youngins that an ork can still be sexy as hell, even when he gets to be your age."
"This'n's on me if'n you ladies got a taste for the good stuff."
Weedy puts on her best southern belle accent, which isn't very good and replies, "Don't mahnd if ah do, there mayam." then reaches down to pour herself a shot. She waits till Wires has his poured before she drinks.
He then reached over poured himself a shot of Chuck's good whiskey. He slammed the shot glass down and gave Chuck a one finger salute. "I think I fly this bird pretty well myself." Followed by another big laugh.
"Chip TRUTH!" she bellows as she slams the glass down on the card table chucks sitting near.
"Finally, the item that has assaulted my sense of sight and deadened me to the colors of the rich Chi-Town is gone and I can rest easy. 'Til my dreams turn to nightmares and I fraggin see that vomit of a rainbow start to chase after me. Or maybe that's just the Bells Palsy giving me vivide hallucinations. Still haven't figured that out yet. Anyways, is the boar done or you going to let it crisp up like bacon or worse, char it?"
Fuckin Jack. The HELL is he talking about? She gives Chuck a sideways look that seems to say "what's HIS deal?" then leans down and pours another shot. With no emotion on her face at all, she motions to Jack with it. "C'mon. This one's for you, cute-ness."
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"Sir, a few questions, yes, sir. When was Dr. Clay's last communication with her HQ? Do we know what kind of loads the Blackshield men are running, sir, or any standing passwords for friendlies? I'm assuming it would be too much to ask that she, or any of her equipment is outfitted with security tags? I'll do what I can for the Blackshield mercs, but, respectfully, my guess is that if they're still alive they're staying that way by shootin' first and finding out who later. I'm not going to risk my soldiers or my objective on the goodwill of amateurs."
The colonel checked his notes while August talked. "It's all here in the files, Captain. The doctor's last check in was 12 hours ago, give or take; as far as they're aware, the call came from the corner of 26th and State" He shook his head. "As for the BS motherfraggers, no word. My best guess based on what I know about them and this job, and I'd say they're running light. The doctor was out to find some sort of goop in the Cermak blast, which means they'd have had to move about a fair bit. That mil-spech shit most of your boys are using would have slowed these guys down way too much, and I bet the same applies to guns. Still, caution is a good approach; no skin off my back if those boys make it back, but just remember that some day you might be on the other side, neh?" The troll chuckled as he went on. "No luck on locators; either the noise is too much, or the radiation is. The commlinks and trackers both went offline shortly after that last check-in."
August waited for the Col. to answer before switching gears. "Do we have any actionable intel on the termite shaman, or are we running blind here, sir? Any word on who it might be working with, or any disturbances that I should know about?"
"You got me, son" the big man said mirthlessly. "Listen, we're operating on rumors and speculation from drekking zone-dwellers here. Get eyes on, confirm if there's a threat or not, and get the hell out. If there are termites in there, you're gonna need a bigger gun..."
"Additionally, sir, there is our hazard pay to be discussed. As you know, every run is a hazard run with VI, and my soldiers have the proper equipment to bring to bear here, but running that close to the Cermak crater brings some further complications. Have any additional funds been allocated for that aspect of the operation, sir?"
At this point, Samuels laughed out loud. "Hah! You've got guts, August, I'll say that much. What, half a million nuyen ain't enough for you?" He smiled at the Captain and made a salute. "Dismissed, Captain. Good hunting."
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Chuck raised his glass towards the others and took a sip as they downed their drinks. "Hang around a little longer 'n I'll make a lady of ya yet."
Chuck noticed the captain about the same time Gale spoke up. He nodded and gave August a lazy salute. "Cap'n." Chuck paused to take a drag on his cigar and held it in a moment. The cap'n does look serious. Chuck slowly blew the smoke out before speaking up, "Flyboy's got somethin to burn your hoop, 'n I got somethin to burn your belly. Pick your poison 'n join the fun cap'n." Maybe the cap'n'll have a moment to relax. Be a shame to waste a good pig.
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August stands at the far end of the hangar watching his troops. This is always the hardest part for him: telling them what what they're expected, what he expects, them to do. It's nothing any of them haven't signed up for, but knowing something and believing it are two different things. Still, for a brief second, the Captain let loose with a smile at the exchange between Wires and Weedy, and then there was Jack mouthing off in that particular way of his. Strange bird, Jack. He's as good a soldier as any, even if he doesn't believe it. That kind of double-think can get you killed in the field, and August made a mental note to give the Sergeant something to work toward on this run, something to build confidence in the man himself to match what August knew he was capable of.
As always, Gale is off to the side, and doesn't miss anything, including the look in August's face as he prepares to speak.
"August. You look like a man on a mission, please tell me we’ll have to deploy before Wires tries to make us eat this poor pig."
"Ask and ye shall receive," August says to Gale before turning to Chuck. "Smells great, Chuck. I want to get to it straight next thing." He puts on his commander's voice and barks out, "Alright metas, my tuskers, and breeders, this dandelion eater here is bringing y'all a paycheck. Gather round, and let's talk this thing out."
>>Send Files
>>To: Viper Team
>>Contents:
>>OPORD
>>Chicago Map
>>Suggested Route
>>End Transmission
"We got us a two-parter here. Dr. Emily Clay last checked in about 12 hours ago from the corner of 26th and State. She's out looking for royal jelly, or some other scientific holy grail, and we're going to retrieve her. She's travelling with a 4 man security detail, provided by Blackshield Security's finest. You know what that means. BS goes in, and they gotta send Vulcan to bring 'em back, eh? Those Blackshield boys are non-essential, but I personally told Col. Samuels that my team can get them out, so that's what we're gonna do. Now, personally, I don't trust 'em, and I expect you to keep wide eyes as well, even if we're tagging 'em as friendlies, officially. Boys should be lightly armed and armored, but heavily cybered, and they're weird on magic. So Gale, I want you to keep the waggly finger shit on the down low. As far as these fellas are concerned you're an intelligence officer, dig?
"This is a standard search and retrieve mission that just so happens to put us smack dab at the edge of the Cermak Crater, so bring your rad protection, and bring your firepower, cuz we don't know what we're gonna see when we get there. Part 2 is a sneak and peak. Word from the crazies down in Chi-town is that a termite shaman has set up on the eastern shore of the south branch river, just north and west of where we're going anyway. We're gonna put eyes on the situation, see what there is to see, and refrain from letting loose with even a single mother-fraggin' round. Wires, you're gonna have to put a few of those Fly-Spys through the ringer on this one, so I wanna see some of that fancy flying. Gale, Weedy, I know enough to know when my expertise is elsewhere, so either a you have anything of note to add on termite spirits or termite shamans?
August takes a deep breath, looks longingly at one of Chuck's cigars and continues, "Our order of operations: the bird drops us at Lake Meadows Park. We advance west and north to 26th and State. We find Dr. Clay and her security detail, or we find where they went, and we pick 'em up the Viper way, the clean way. Objective 1 completed. Objective 2: on our way, we scope this termite shaman, we get actionable intel, we do not engage, and we get back here in time for breakfast. That's right, ladies and gents. I want us gone in 45. For the next 15 your direct orders are to eat this beautiful looking pig over here, play a little grab ass, try your hardest to enjoy whatever the frag this is that's supposed to pass for music. I've seen y'all don your kits in less time than that, so anyone steps outside this hangar before 15 is up, I will write your ass a ticket for insubordination.
"Do I have any questions here?"
With the briefing over, August scans the faces of Viper Team, decides that they're not yet enjoying themselves nearly as much as they should be. "Weedy," he shouts out in a voice that could almost be considered angry by someone who didn't know him. "When I came in here, were you really doing 100 chin-ups on that bar right there?"
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So Gale, I want you to keep the waggly finger shit on the down low. As far as these fellas are concerned you're an intelligence officer, dig?
"Fuck Captain, that close to the crater you’d have to hold a gun to my head if you wanted me to sling mojo, and I’d still have to think about it twice."
Gale, Weedy, I know enough to know when my expertise is elsewhere, so either a you have anything of note to add on termite spirits or termite shamans?
"I’d call it more than likely that Weedy knows more about them then I do, I’ll let her take point here and fill in any gaps if and when I can." As he finishes he looks to Weedy, paying close attention to what she says, interjecting where he feels like she is skipping over something that might prove important.
Do I have any questions here?
Gale clears his throat a little, "Not a question, Captain and I hate for this to sound like I’m covering my ass here but as you all know astral in the CZ is mostly fragged and especially around the crater itself. Just saying, I might actually be relegated to ‘Intelligence officer’ on this run. Let’s not plan around any mojo flying about, if available it will be a nice bonus is all."
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Chuck gave an uncharacteristically big smile. "15 minutes til go time, ladies!" Guess we'll have to kill this bottle later. Damn shame. "Looks like ya could use a smoke, cap'n. This batch tastes like Burns drek'd em outta his hoophole, but at least they're real tobacco. Got some real Jack here from back home too if ya wanna shot before I put her to bed. I ain't gettin nobody drunk before a drop." Chuck grinned a little "I got somethin real good to puff on when we make it home."
Chuck continued relaxing in his rickety lawn chair and took a couple puffs off his cigar. Much as I love my pretty milspec gear...it'd be best to travel light tonight. Hah. Lighter. I don't fancy strugglin to keep up in milspec when we got friendlies to cover. "I'm thinkin 'bout hittin the ground light...with a little extra heavy tonight. I'll suit up with regular body armor and my usual smash 'n grab get up. If'n we're talkin bug shamans though, I'm bringin some extra hoopstomp. Ill add in the cannon. Any other suggestions? I can run a little lighter on gear and pack some extra boom, sir. I like extra boom."
...Better phone in some supplies before we leave.
>Send Message
>>Mr. Burns
>>>Mr. Burns! I'm going to need a full set of HIGH quality cigars ASAP! Not the standard quality. I'm down to my last few good cigars. And listen here, chummer. This batch of standard drek you acquired for me last month is pure cyanide. The only reason I ain't stomped your hoop is 'cause this drek ain't synth. Might as well be! I expect better from you, Mr. Burns. You told me you were the best, and I pay you good money. Frag, son.
Chuck downed the rest of his drink and finished his cigar. "Help an old man strap his gear on, lil lady?" Chuck was about to flick his cigar butt, but stopped himself. Bad habit. He located the nearest trash receptacle near Wires' atomic pig, and successfully flicked it in. "Old man's still got it."
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Chuck raised his glass towards the others and took a sip as they downed their drinks. "Hang around a little longer 'n I'll make a lady of ya yet."
Weedy clinks glasses with the group before winking at Chuck and saying "You wish, breeder." and downing her shot.
"August. You look like a man on a mission, please tell me we’ll have to deploy before Wires tries to make us eat this poor pig."
Chuck noticed the captain about the same time Gale spoke up. He nodded and gave August a lazy salute. "Cap'n."
Now that she's close enough to the cooking pig, she can start to smell the meat now instead of just the aroma of the Cermak sauce Wires had slathered on most of it and it smelled incredible. She'd only ever eaten real meat once before in her life and she'd been too nervous to really enjoy it then. This time, she had a few drinks in her, she felt safe, and had all the time in the world. This time was gonna be good. When Nightingale starts speaking to August, she spins around to face the Captain, gives a rigid salute, says "SIR!", and stands at attention until instructed otherwise.
"Alright metas, my tuskers, and breeders, this dandelion eater here is bringing y'all a paycheck. Gather round, and let's talk this thing out..."
She listens intently, concentration focused on every word that comes out of the middle aged elf. She remains completely silent and intent on him while he speaks.
Gale, Weedy, I know enough to know when my expertise is elsewhere, so either a you have anything of note to add on termite spirits or termite shamans?
The crafty little scout had been meticulously keeping an up-to-date file of all the intel she'd ever gathered on every type of bug the CZ had to offer for almost 8 years now, and it was times like these that made her the proudest of doing so. More than once since she'd joined Viper team, those files had saved lives and she was happy to be bringing it up again. She tries her hardest not let any of those emotions through as she answers. "Yes, Sir. I'll send the team my file on them before we're in the air, Sir."
"Do I have any questions here?"
She pipes up immediately. "Yes, Sir. How much intel do we have on Dr. Clay? Is she trustworthy? It wouldn't be the first time I've seen a green merc squad like BlackShield lured into an ambush, Sir."
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Once the briefing is complete, the VERY first thing she does it march purposefully across the room and change the music, confidant in the knowledge that everyone knows better than to try and stop her. Once the Pre-game ritual begins, there's no getting in the way. http://youtu.be/QqcPaVx_vC4 She leans against the wall for the first 8 bars or so, only moving again once the singing begins. She's learned to compartmentalize emotions over the years, and right now, if the Captain says it's relax and party time for 15 minutes, the rush of adrenaline for the mission will wait 15 minutes. Right now, it's party time. I'm bout to stuff my face FULL of that Cermak Pork, and if I get eaten by a bug today, then SHE'LL be the one with the stomach ache.
"I'm thinkin 'bout hittin the ground light..."
"Good idea, Chuck. We're all gonna need to be light on our feet on this one. I'm leavin the cannon on the bird today, myself."
"Help an old man strap his gear on, lil lady?"
"Pfffffffffffft! I aint ya mamma. Handle your own biz."
"Weedy," he shouts out in a voice that could almost be considered angry by someone who didn't know him.
"SIR!"
"When I came in here, were you really doing 100 chin-ups on that bar right there?"
"Sir. Yes, Sir! Viper Three did not believe I could do so before his pig had finished cooking. Bets were made. Shirts were burned, Sir." She finally approaches the Captain and gives him a long firm handshake, making eye contact briefly and saying quietly, "Lets eat, August."
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Jack would chuckle slightly as he was poured a drink of JD. 'Alright, I'll bite.' He would say, his ladies still tuning up as he left his gear. He looked Weedy in the eyes with a slight grin and was about to the take the shot when he heard the others commenting about the Cap' showing up. Letting his fingers slip from the shot glass he would turn on the heel of his boots to face him and give a salute. "Sir." With that he would ease himself and listen to what the old elf had to say. 'Its never good when he is this serious.' His stomach was hard to keep from growling loudly with being near the pig and how hungry he was. He listened to the presentation and had the info brought up on his glasses so that he could read the info. Getting to the doc, he would send the images of her to the sentries, already programmed not to fire on the group or the hardware they are packing.
After the briefing, Jack didn't have any questions. He would go back for his shot, downing it quickly. It seemed like an easy enough job, but thats what they said about the fething cave. Eventually Jack would walk away, seeing if the damn pig was ready or if they were going to have to use some of their 15 for it to cook. He'd be bringing his standard kit with him for the blast area, meaning mil-spec armor that had radiation shielding and some firepower when things go south of the border by a lot.
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Gale clears his throat a little, "Not a question, Captain and I hate for this to sound like I’m covering my ass here but as you all know astral in the CZ is mostly fragged and especially around the crater itself. Just saying, I might actually be relegated to ‘Intelligence officer’ on this run. Let’s not plan around any mojo flying about, if available it will be a nice bonus is all."
"Gale," August says, "you're a hell of a soldier whether you're making 'em shit their pants with your mojo, or a rifle. Ain't no relegating, and ain't no ass covering, you're no use to this team if that crater eats you whole. You just don't let those Blackshield boys know you could drop them with one of steely-eyed glares a yours in a different locale."
She pipes up immediately. "Yes, Sir. How much intel do we have on Dr. Clay? Is she trustworthy? It wouldn't be the first time I've seen a green merc squad like BlackShield lured into an ambush, Sir."
"Is she trustworthy? Hell, girl, for all we know some bug spirit is wearing her skin around right now like it's Vashon Island's finest, and the damned thing is just waiting to be brought back to base. I trust the people in this room, and my girls back home, and. . ." August lets out a sharp exhale before continuing. "Anyway, whoever she is, she's got pull from up top, and 450,000¥ means she gets pulled out of the pit, but even that kind of scratch doesn't buy trust. Something seems off about her, and that goes for everybody here, you trust your gut and don't wave it off."
"I'm thinkin 'bout hittin the ground light...with a little extra heavy tonight. I'll suit up with regular body armor and my usual smash 'n grab get up. If'n we're talkin bug shamans though, I'm bringin some extra hoopstomp. Ill add in the cannon. Any other suggestions? I can run a little lighter on gear and pack some extra boom, sir. I like extra boom."
"We are not engaging with any fraggin' bug shamans, Chuck. I know you're all 'Mr. Confirmed Kills' over there, but we're not heading out for your trophy room. You want to lug that thing around, that's on you, Staff Sergeant."
August nods thankfully at Chuck and takes the offered cigar. He peels the cap off with his thumb, retrieves a coal from the BBQ pit with a pair of tongs, and puffs deeply until the foot is a solid glowing ember, at which point he lets out a rough cough. "Damn, you ain't lying. But real tobacco, it is. I look forward to the smoke on the flipside. Nothing like a cigar at dawn with a cup of coffee." Drek, he thinks to himself. Do I even have any coffee left? Can't forget to put a call in.
After Weedy changes the music and approaches him, August notes her formality. Girl's like family, but she never steps out 'til she gets the ok.
"Sir. Yes, Sir! Viper Three did not believe I could do so before his pig had finished cooking. Bets were made. Shirts were burned, Sir."
He maintains his rough tone, but let's his eyes twinkle a little as he says, "Hey, Weedy, have you ever been mistaken for a man?"
After her reply and handshake, August fixes a plate, eats in military time, and finds a corner of the hangar to place a call to his daughter's back home. Both go to voicemail, so he sends a quick vid instead. "Hey, girls, I bet you're off at some college raver -- do the kids still call them that? They used to call them that for a bit back when. . . Anyway, I just wanted to say 'I love you,' and I hope your classes are going well, and if your food creds are getting low, let me know, and I'll slot some more out to you. Yeah, so, this is dad. Obviously. Take care. Call me, like tomorrow, or when you have some time. Ok. Bye."
-
"Is she trustworthy? Hell, girl, for all we know some bug spirit is wearing her skin around right now like it's Vashon Island's finest, and the damned thing is just waiting to be brought back to base. I trust the people in this room, and my girls back home, and. . ." August lets out a sharp exhale before continuing. "Anyway, whoever she is, she's got pull from up top, and 450,000¥ means she gets pulled out of the pit, but even that kind of scratch doesn't buy trust. Something seems off about her, and that goes for everybody here, you trust your gut and don't wave it off."
"Yes, Sir. If it's all the same to you then, I'd feel better if Viper Three could find a little history on her before we left, Sir."
-
As August approached Wires snapped to attention only going to ease when appropriate. He listens to the briefing and is already calling up images and data from VI's databases and around the net. He has his Agent "Muse" follow up with her own searches just to be thorough. He knows that August said to rest for 15 but some things would take time and he could still relax while it happened.
>>> Load Muse
>>>Access Vulcan International Host - Access Code = "*************************"
>>>Search ....Chicago Downtown Cermak Crater Coordinates = .............
>>>Access Muse
>>>Send Command ---> Search Images Cermak Crater Coordinates = ................
"Sir. Yes, Sir! Viper Three did not believe I could do so before his pig had finished cooking. Bets were made. Shirts were burned, Sir."
He maintains his rough tone, but let's his eyes twinkle a little as he says, "Hey, Weedy, have you ever been mistaken for a man?"
"Only when no one can see her figure, Sir."
"Yes, Sir. If it's all the same to you Sir, I'd feel better if Viper Three could find a little history on her before we left, Sir."
"With your permission, Sir... I'm on it"
Wires waits for his intel search to finish and Q's up a search for the good Dr. All the while he is carving into the pig making sure everyone has a plate before he grabs one himself. He doesn't exactly wolf down the chow, he seems to enjoy it. But he makes a quick dash through it and finishes the same time as the others.
-
"We are not engaging with any fraggin' bug shamans, Chuck. I know you're all 'Mr. Confirmed Kills' over there, but we're not heading out for your trophy room. You want to lug that thing around, that's on you, Staff Sergeant."
Chuck paused and eyed August for a moment. "With all due respect, cap'n, the cannon's comin. We're goin to the crater." Chuck paused again to walk over and grab a slice of meat from Wires. He pointed at the pig. "The crater's hot. Not as hot as this here pig...My geiger's been pingin off this pig from all the way over yonder by my bunk.
Chuck sniffed the pig and half smiled, half grimaced before taking a bite. I wonder if Gale'd stick a finger up my hoop and shoot off a heal after this piggy escapes the pen. I might even let him. "Delicious. Anyhow, no tellin what kinda nasties we'll encounter there. Irregardless of that, we're goin lookin for a bug shammy." Chuck shook his head a little at that before giving the captain a hard stare. "Besides, cap'n, you know as well as I do that I'm no greenhorn with an itchy trigger finger. If you say it don't get blown up, it don't get blown up, sir. I'll also load the bird up with what explosives I got left, and we can figure out how much to bring on site en route." He then gave what would have otherwise been a completely professional salute to Captain August if not for the plate of pork in his hand.
A bright red outline began to slowly pulsate from the very fringes of Chuck's vision, and the timer Chuck set after August's debrief popped into sight. 10:00:00
"Permission to leave the party early, sir? I gotta get strapped into my trusty 4th leg. It ain't as big as the third leg mind you, but it gets the job done."
With permission, Chuck turned towards his bunk while waving at the rest of viper company. "I'll be in the bird 5 minutes early. Y'all know the drill, ladies. Ill say a few words 3 minutes before departure. Y'all're all gettin a prayer, so ya might as well be there. Might get ya a little extra consideration, I dont know." Chuck left it at that and walked off towards his bunk to begin checking his gear and suiting up.
When he finished, he picked up his pocket Bible and flipped to the back where the names had been written in. So many names. I'm not adding any names tonight. Everyone's coming home, damn You! Chuck took a deep breath, let it out and placed the pocket Bible in it's little pouch before heading to the Banshee.
-
As the luau rages on, Weedy's entrepreneurial mind starts working the way it always does. She gives the mental command to her commlink and sends off a message right quick. It's a standard message, one that she's sent a hundred times, and one that has made her a LOT of nuyen over the years.
>> Send Message
>> Contact: Comm
>> CC: Pigeon, Zhang, Brother Malik, Dookey
>> Message: Hello everyone. It's that time again. What do you want for Christmas?
It's not a message that gets answered most of the time, but when it does, the nuyen flows like water.
-
Having given dispensations to two of his soldiers, August kicks himself a little bit. No way it takes Chuck thirty minutes to get his dress on. Shame you gotta make this crew have a good time. Damn workaholics. He hopes there's a next time so he can get it right then. No. there will be a next time, and when it comes, Chuck is going to eat that fraggin' pig and like it. On the other hand, no way around the matrix search. Weedy was right; that needed to get done then, if it was going to get done.
At the fifteen minute mark, August makes his way to his barracks, calls in an order for coffee, "The real stuff, damnit," and assembles his load out. With a solid fifteen to go until dust off, he considers picking up some STS systems for the BS mercs, but isn't sure of their viability. Finally, he makes up his mind, collects the rest of his gear, and heads back to the hangar ready to roll.
-
"Gale," August says, "you're a hell of a soldier whether you're making 'em shit their pants with your mojo, or a rifle. Ain't no relegating, and ain't no ass covering, you're no use to this team if that crater eats you whole. You just don't let those Blackshield boys know you could drop them with one of steely-eyed glares a yours in a different locale."
"No worries August, I know my own worth."
Gale takes his time eating knowing that he has less gear to get ready than most of the others and that he’ll get all his ducks in a row before it’s time to go. He makes sure to stow both his foci rings in a secure pocket, knowing that the high background count near the crater will absolutely render them useless. God damned astral wasteland. Still, it’s better than running the shadows chummer, never forget that.
He gets to the banshee around the same time as the others, "We ready to get this show on the road?"
-
The Pig is amazing. The sauce, for all the shit talking and fear mongering is actually some incredible stuff. You don't get to be as old as Wires is without learning a few good recipes. It's the sort of sauce that you don't even really taste at first, you just think, "Whoa, this pork is kinda spicy." But then, a few minutes after you're done eating, you start sweating and giggling a little bit. Somehow, even the smell of Chucks cigars couldn't ruin the flavor of it all. When they're done eating, Chuck excuses himself early to strap in and the life kind of falls out of the party for Weedy. She stays, as ordered for the remaining 5 minutes, but her heart isn't in it anymore. She realizes, for the first time maybe, that Chuck is her friend and that she likes him. Shit. I got three friends, now. She lets herself have one last smile as she watches the good ole boy strapping on his custom gyro-harness for a moment.
Once the five minutes is up though, holy SHIT it's on! The mischief in her eye, the braggadocio in her voice, the swagger in her step; All gone, replaced by pure emotionless professionalism. Within 13 minutes, she's showered, put on clean clothes, checked and loaded up her weapons, donned her armor, and made her way to the rear entrance of the Banshee. It's been her job to make sure everyone got on the bird and everyone got off since day one. When she'd first gotten the job, August had let her know on NO uncertain terms, "Unless you're the ONLY one, you're the LAST one." She still remembered the look on his face when he'd said it. Like he hated saying it to her, but knew he couldn't bullshit her either. She'd respected him for not wearing kid gloves around her, the way a lot of men did.
While she stands at alert near the rear of the banshee, waiting for the team to mount up, she finally remembers what movie that line about being mistaken for a man came from. Fuckin Vasquez! I shoulda' made some kinda Aliens joke back at him. Well, too late now.
She notes the faces of her team as they board one at a time; Chuck's eager determination, Jack's "devil-may-care" vibe about the whole thing, and Gale's near palpable discomfort with going so close to the crater. She can never get a read on what August is thinking, and Wires is in the cockpit, so she never sees his face before take-off. Probably better that way. If ya don't know what kinda mood the pilot's in, you assume it's a safe one.
Once everyone is on board, she does a cursory check over everyone's safety equipment as per usual, then straps herself in between Chuck and Jack. After lighting up her various AROs and waiting until all the preliminary flight checks are completed, she checks in over the comm.
"Viper Five is ONline. Won't ya play our song for us there, Fly-boy?"
-
Chuck stood by in the banshee waiting for anybody to show up early. The time was neigh, though, and Chuck's never been the kind to burden anyone with unwanted ideology. The cap'n'll probably show, and I'll have a word for him when he does. He bowed his head. This is just You 'n me now. Bring us home safe tonight. Cap'n August, Weedy, Wires, Gale...Jack. They're good folk, and You know it. I don't got much else to say...I ain't the type. I'll think of somethin' pretty if the cap'n shows but that's it for me. You keep 'em safe, y'hear? "Amen."
Chuck pulled out his redline and double checked its charge before checking the battery satchel around his waist. They both read 100% capacity. Weedy took up point beside the Banshee as usual before anyone else showed up. Chuck finished poking through his medkit satchel and verifying its contents about the time Gale made his way to the bird. Guess somethin's on the Cap'ns mind. "FRAG. Blastin caps..blastin caps..where the frag are my blastin caps?!" Chuck quickly rummaged through his pouches and pockets looking for his detonators. "If I gotta head back to my bunk for...OH." He fingered through his chem pouch and counted each detonator. 2...4...5...6 "Huh. Got 'em with the feel goods. Never put 'em there before.
Chuck hooked his cannon into his gyro mount and tested the arm while he still had a moment. He aimed it at several awkward angles in addition to his normal range of motion before testing the storing mechanism. It operated smoothly as expected, so Chuck detached the cannon and stored it beside him for the flight. Confident everything was in order, Chuck took a seat and fiddled with his AA-16 while waiting for the rest of the team.
Better say somethin for the cap'n.. Chuck put his submic patch on and pulled out his comm.
>Record Subvocal Audio file
>>Title: Pre-Game
>>>"Cap'n, I told the Man upstairs I'd say a couple pretty words for ya. Made a damned liar outta myself. I ain't got no pretty words. That don't mean I forgot about ya though, sir. You usually show up, so I'm goin the extra mile tonight. Recording will resume in 15 seconds if ya find yourself in the mood.
...
...
...
Lord, we're headin into some nasty drek tonight. There ain't no guarantee we're gunna make it back. Never is. But we have faith in You, so we ask You to guide us through our missions tonight. We don't know this Doc or her guards, but no one deserves to end their days in the CZ, so we ask you to be with them as we seek them Lord. We also ask you to watch over Cap'n August, Weedy, Wires, Gale, Jack and myself tonight as we perform our duties. We ask all these things in your name, amen.
>Compose Message
>>Captain August
>>>Ya didn't catch me early tonight. I reckon you're preoccupied, so I took some initiative. Don't be late next time. I ain't got no time to be playin grab-ass.
>>Attach File: Pre-Game
>>>Send
Chuck relaxed and continued to fiddle with his AA-16 while waiting for the rest of the team to show up.
-
Jack would eat the pork without much of a fuss, that comes later when it comes out. He'd get on his comm, pulling up a contact of a blonde elf. Thinking about it for a moment, he'd hit message underneath the Profile.
>> Send Message
>> Contact: Twister
>> Message: Hey.. It's me. Going into the drek again, you know the drill. The account is up to 10% of what is needed, so it will still be a while if you don't hear from me. Love you.
He wouldn't care if anyone saw him write the message or saw it. The group knew enough of the tumultuous relationship that they weren't going to break up any time soon. Finishing up, he'd pack up his tools and break the girls down, thinking it be best to leave Simone behind for now. His fifteen minutes up, he go into his bunk and get his gear in order, strapping Kristine to the side of the back pack and putting all the gear he thought he'd need in the backpack itself, going to weigh him down for sure. He'd grab Matilda from her special place, getting the spare clips on the sling and on the side for other gear he may need. Each one had a color band of tape around them so that he knows in a pinch which is which. That ready, he'd get his mil-spec armor on, leaving his helmet for last. He'd walk over to the small mirror he had and looked deeply into the reflection.
'You have this. Don't worry, this ain't hell. You'll get out of the maw intact. The others will come back. You know it, I know it.'
He would grab his pack and weapons that weren't already strapped to his armor with the exception of his helmet where. He would walk to the Banshee, leaving only a couple of minutes left when his heavy footsteps would be heard on the bird. The gear not needed on him for the mission from the beginning, but maybe later would be put into storage on the Banshee in case its ever needed. Taking his seat next to Weedy, Viper 6 would put his backpack in front of him and helmet on top of the pack. "Well this will probably a rough job and may we ache about it in our old age, which the tuskers here will get to before most of us. Anyways, just so that you guys don't go down uncultured, here is a quote from Gilbert Keith Chesterson, a great author. 'The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.' I don't know about you guys sometimes, but I think I'm a true soldier. A couple of you guys might have that potential, but would rather not." He would say, probably getting a groan from everyone on board. He had a different quote to say before take off to try and make the fraggin mercs rub two brain cells to create some type of spark, but it doesn't seem to always work.
-
"Well this will probably a rough job and may we ache about it in our old age, which the tuskers here will get to before most of us. Anyways, just so that you guys don't go down uncultured, here is a quote from Gilbert Keith Chesterson, a great author. 'The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.' I don't know about you guys sometimes, but I think I'm a true soldier. A couple of you guys might have that potential, but would rather not."
"Sheeeeeeeeyit. We aint no soldiers. We's MERCS! We fight for what's about to be in our POCKETS!" she announces to the group as she reaches across the isle to slap hands with August. As she does, she gives the metal command to send her termite files off to the team
>> Send File
>> Contact: Viper team
>> File: Termites.Doc
-
"Sheeeeeeeeyit. We aint no soldiers. We's MERCS! We fight for what's about to be in our POCKETS!" she announces to the group as she reaches across the isle to slap hands with August.
"It's do or die with Vulcan I." August says. "Viper-5, is Viper Team present and accounted for?"
He immediately hears her shout in the affirmative before continuing. Weedy's got some lungs on her, true dat. He gives his team the frequency Wires provided him with and goes through the check-in procedure. "Comm check-in: Viper-1 over." he barks, hearing Viper-2, Viper-3, Viper-4, Viper-5, and Viper-6 resound back to him. Subvocal check-in: Viper-1 over," and the process repeats. Then again for text.
"Viper-3, we are cleared for lift-off. At your ready."
-
When the 15 minutes was up everyone could hear the Banshee already going through pre-flight in the hangar, Wires running the facility that the Banshee was parked in remotely while he quickly dressed. He was the first one on the bird skipping the others pre-game rituals while he himself ran through his own. He jumped into Betty. Mentally running his fingers over every surface. The t-bird rumbled when he fired up her engines. The power they provided feeling like an adrenaline rush in Wires own body. You ready ol' gal. Once more into the breach....
He sends a the flight plan out to his contact at the Air Traffic Control Station overseeing the greater Chicago area.
>>> From: Vulcan International, Helo-Echo-Seven-Seven
To: Chicago ATC; Care of Anna Gregovich
File Attach: Flightplan.doc
He watched as the others boarded through the sensors on the bird. Each stowing gear and taking their normal places.
"Viper Five is ONline. Won't ya play our song for us there, Fly-boy?"
>>>"Ask and you shall receive." http://youtu.be/pc_F3PaYgl0 (http://youtu.be/pc_F3PaYgl0)
"Viper-3, we are cleared for lift-off. At your ready."
"Launch in 3...2...1...Off" The t-bird shook as the engines revved up to power, lifting her clear of the ground and slowly taxiing out of the hangar. Once clear the engine power increases and everyone's stomachs drop toward the seat as t-bird quickly gains altitude and speed.
While inflight, Wires sends a feed to all of the team with the info he found during his searches.
"Intel on the area and the Dr."
-
The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.
Sheeeeeeeeyit. We aint no soldiers. We's MERCS! We fight for what's about to be in our POCKETS!
"Come on chummers, both of you are as wrong as wrong can be. What we fight for are the people in this bird right here and we do it because we know that the sucker next to us will be doing the exact same thing. And failing someone who is putting his life on the line for you is simply unacceptable." Gale pauses for a moment before continuing, "Thankfully I can’t even imagine anyone in this crew disagreeing with that."
Gale settles back in his seat eminently content to put his life in the hands of these people, calling out when August goes through the preflight comm check routine, then tapping his foot in rhythm to the classic rock that Wires chose as Viper team’s take off music.
-
Jack would chuckle slightly as the crew decided to try and say its not true, it still got a conversation going. After he heard the sound off order he would wait for his turn. "Viper-Six is online." and with that the helmet would come on and he would go through the diagnostics. It always tripped him up when first mixing real world with the digital, but after a few moments the sensation passes and he is fine to work. Then he starts to hear the subvocal mics chirp up. "Viper-Six is still online." He'd say, sliding his pack under his chair so it doesn't go flying. "You know Weedy, I'm going to have to call bullshit on you and the money. You don't seem to really do anything with your cut except get yourself new gear and maybe something for downtime. So if you have a thing for money, where does it go? In the bank until you decide to get of this business or already spent on the latest and greatest of military technology."
-
"Viper-4 ready for action." Chuck responded, and once more moments later in subvocal.
The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.
Sheeeeeeeeyit. We aint no soldiers. We's MERCS! We fight for what's about to be in our POCKETS!
"Come on chummers, both of you are as wrong as wrong can be. What we fight for are the people in this bird right here and we do it because we know that the sucker next to us will be doing the exact same thing. And failing someone who is putting his life on the line for you is simply unacceptable." Gale pauses for a moment before continuing, "Thankfully I can’t even imagine anyone in this crew disagreeing with that."
"Used to be a day I fought for a paycheck, and I been makin paychecks for 27 years. When most all your friends been shot, stabbed, blown up, fried, deep fried, eaten and worse...the pay ain't so important no more. A man starts realizing all the things he's done for those paychecks. I woulda hung up the guns a ways back, but this ol boy ain't cut out for nothin but shootin. Here I am now. I fight for all o' y'all, the doc on the ground, and her guards." Chuck took a moment to look at each face around him, stopping at Weedy before continuing. "Find something real to fight for, ladies. The money only takes you so far...unless you're a right cold bastard. I reckon the money'll take ya to the grave then. Though I thought I was a right cold bastard. I suppose I'm just old now."
Chuck shrugged and fell silent after his last comment. He reached into his feel-good pouch, pulled out a tab of cram and popped it. Afterwards he picked up his helmet, fastened it, tested the seal, and flipped back to fresh air. With everything attached and stored where it should be, he pulled up the mission files and began reviewing the important details.
-
"You know Weedy, I'm going to have to call bullshit on you and the money. You don't seem to really do anything with your cut except get yourself new gear and maybe something for downtime. So if you have a thing for money, where does it go?"
She gives Viper Six the finger. "Someone's gotta support ya mamma."
"Find something real to fight for, ladies. The money only takes you so far...unless you're a right cold bastard."
She lets a little smile through, but just a little one. "The coldest, Omae. Ice cold..."
Despite her attempts to play it off like a bad-ass, the whole topic makes Weedy a little uncomfortable. What Jack had said was true and she knew it. Just from what she'd blown on chrome, dope, and ammo, she could have retired a LONG time ago, so it wasn't REALLY about the money, despite her claims to the contrary. It wasn't about a sense of wanting to protect anything either. She aint never had anything to protect in the first place. It wasn't even for the men around her. After all, she'd been going into the CZ on foot by herself since long before she'd ever heard of Vulcan International. The truth is, that when she looks deep inside and really reflects on things, she has NO IDEA why she keeps going back in there, but every now and then, when she's pretending to be asleep at night, she's afraid it's cause on some level, she wants to die in there.
She pushes all these thoughts out of her head and starts singing(screaming) along. "BUT I DON'T CARE IF I SPEND MY DOUGH! CAUSE TONIGHT I'M GONNA BE ONE HAPPY SOUL!"
-
[Thunderbird Hotel-Echo-Seven-Seven, Chicago Airspace, May 2076]
Upon submitting flightplans, Wires almost immediately receives a voice callback. "Hotel-Echo-Seven-Seven, this is O'Hare tower; you are cleared for take-off at 1525 hours local on course niner-zero. Fly the friendly skies; tower out."
With the thunderbird soaring through the clouds at high-speed, Wires feels the sonic boom reverberate through the metal extension of his own self as he tears through the speed of sound. Acid rain coats the aircraft with a slick film of stinging dampness as he steers into the front coming in from the east over Lake Michigan, and as the crew sounds off he double-checks the weather reports.
"... here today. Looks like these clouds are sticking around for a while, folks, so expect north-eastern winds of around 4mph with showers of rain throughout the week. Fog will likely form at dawn and dusk especially near the rivers, so keep those lights handy and stay safe. This is Jose Valero with KSAF News. Back to you, Dan."
Instead of taking the short route directly to the LZ which would have taken the crew directly over the Cermak blast zone, Wires cuts a south-eastern path through the skies and does a 180 over the southern tip of Lake Michigan, angling in for a westerly approach on the LZ. Satellite imagery shows the area to be relatively clear, but this far into the CZ anything could happen in absolutely no time...
-
Wires logs out of VR while he gets up tp transfer to the Humvee. He keeps the connection to Betty ready if she'll need him for the few seconds it will take him to make the transfer.
As Wires appers from the cockpit, He's already deck out in his SWAT ensemble complete with all of the gear a growing tech-head would need, In a very nasally and "oh-so-proper" flight attendant vioce
"Ladies & Gentlemen, This is your pilot speaking. We are nearing our destination shortly. PLase notice that I have turn off the restraint sign so that we can assume proper departing procedures. Please move to your new seat aboard the Humvee.
Once he finishes, he climbs into the driver seat of the Humvee. Cap'n we are only a few minutes out. Better get ready for touchdown. Going VR"
>>>>To: Team Viper
Pregame Psych Op
File Inc http://youtu.be/lTs6a0ORdQU (http://youtu.be/lTs6a0ORdQU)
-
Jack would roll his eyes at Weedy, luckily his helmet blocking the view to his eyes. Muting the outside world except when key words pop up in the feed and stopping his voice escaping his air tight helmet, he would bring up his music list, calling out random. What came through was one of the original elf rock bands that came out of Ireland doing the cover of a cover, which wasn't too bad. Problem was, the original tracks were done with colony bands and transferring in an Irish Brogue could of been disastrous, though to him it was good. He couldn't stand the J-Pop craze going on right now, preferring to stick with the goblinized and elven rock and metal bands.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ofEexDdcmq8&index=2&list=UUv7Bgr5Mq-dPYu-Ol4AocEA (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ofEexDdcmq8&index=2&list=UUv7Bgr5Mq-dPYu-Ol4AocEA)
He could be seen very clearly he was tapping his fingers in time to the music against his armor, closing his eyes 'til the song ends, opening his eyes to see Wires already in the back and directing everyone in his usual manner. He'd stop the music, open up comm lines for full conversation and unmuted himself, something the rest of the team probably thought was a godsend for the time being. He'd grab his bag and head for his normal seat in the Humvee. "Glad for the smooth sailing into port, hows the weather for the landing Captain?" He would say getting settled, Wires knowing the question was directed at him cause Cap' was August and Captain was Wires when driving or flying. Its also a question on how hot the landing will be.
-
"Roger that, Viper Three!" She spits into the comm before unlocking her gear and unhooking herself from the gunner cables. Four steps and she's next to the door of the hummer, counting heads once again. Once everyone is inside, she takes one last hard look at the her Gauss rifle and wonders if she's bringing the right loadout before closing the rear hatch of the hummer and seating herself next to the rear exit. "Viper One. Viper team is accounted for, strapped in, and ready to roll."
This ain't a bug hunt. I don't need the cannon. Besides, August told us to run light, so that's what I'm doing. I mean, if one can consider a grenade launcher to be "running light" that is.
-
August listened intently on the discussion about this thing they did. It wasn't everyday that Viper team would wax philosophical, but when they did he had a hard time staying out of it. He approved of Jack's quote, but the other's sensibilities. It was hard to believe that Chesterton had survived the First World War and come to those conclusions. Personally, August favored Robert Graves' cynicism over the high ideals of all those other British bastards. He didn't know how someone could walk away from a front with any ideals in tact.
He fingers a silver medallion around his neck. At a cursory glance, it appears to be Saint's medal, but the back inscription reads, "John Hawkwood." When there's a break in the conversation, August adds, "'God take away your alms. For as you live by charity, so do I by war'. . . A man born to a tanner's son in England, who died a landed Lord in Italy said those words about 700 years ago. You know, I used to think I got in Betty here for the money, and it was you folks that brought me back. And I think that's true, but it's not the whole truth. I can't speak for you chummers, but there are a lot of reasons why I fight. I fight to put my daughters through school. I fight because I don't know who the hell else would run this outfit. I fight for Jen. But mostly, I think it's my darma, my fate, whatever you want to call it. Maybe this is pessimistic, but I tried the pacifist route, I tried to do no harm, but the truth is, killing comes as natural as breathing to me."
Once he finishes, he climbs into the driver seat of the Humvee. Cap'n we are only a few minutes out. Better get ready for touchdown. Going VR"
"Roger that, Viper-3. Viper team, load up." August found his spot in the humvee, double-checked his gear, and spun around to face the rest of the team as they entered.
"Glad for the smooth sailing into port, hows the weather for the landing Captain?" He would say getting settled, Wires knowing the question was directed at him cause Cap' was August and Captain was Wires when driving or flying. Its also a question on how hot the landing will be.
"Not great, to be honest. We're most likely looking at limited visibility, especially at the river. It's a double-edged sword, but we'll try to keep it to our advantage. Stay frosty, Jack."
-
Gale takes his seat inside the Humvee, strapping in and continuing going over the files from Wires and Weedy. Well, at least we won’t have to go underground to look for this termite nutcase. We’d be doing the poor bastard a favour by putting a bullet through his brain. Don’t know what HQ is waiting for, especially if he’s close to waking up some of those fraggin bugs.
"You there Omae? We’re heading into the badlands so don’t get your panties in a bunch even though I won’t be throwing magic around. We’ve gotten through some bad shit before and we’ll do so once again today. No doubt."
Alright, time to get your game face on. Gale gets in position to monitor the feeds from one of the fly-spies during the ride in the Humvee, keeping his eyes peeled.
-
Once Wires announced that it was time to strap into the Humvee, Chuck got up, slung his AA-16 across his back, picked up the cannon, and took his seat in the Humvee. He was a different person now. Nothing else mattered except the mission and the people in the Humvee. Chuck sat down and held the cannon between his legs with the butt resting on the floor. "Viper-4 locked and loaded and ready for touch down."
Once everyone had settled into the Humvee, Chuck caught the Captain's attention. "Cap'n August. What's the quick 'n dirty tonight, sir? We got the mission files, but I'd like to hear your version."
-
Once everyone had settled into the Humvee, Chuck caught the Captain's attention. "Cap'n August. What's the quick 'n dirty tonight, sir? We got the mission files, but I'd like to hear your version."
"Until the situation dictates otherwise, we're going to go with HQ on this one," August says, making eye contact with each of his soldiers in turn. "We will maintain a westerly course on 31st street. Gale and I will monitor the drone footage and keep y'all abreast of any upcoming threats or elements of concern. Weedy, I'm going to give you the captain's chair on this one. I want your eyes up front in case we miss anything. Chuck, Jack, I want you both on those weapon mounts should we need to go hot. On State St. we head north, and maintain our MO. Wires, I want you to take Gale's drone to the corner of 26th and State to investigate the building where Dr. Clay was last seen, and my drone should scope out the surrounding area to note any potential corridors of egress or ingress.
"Barring any new intel, our plan is to take the building as a tactical maneuver. We will announce our presence upon breaching the building on the off chance that our target is still present. I'm going to go in with less-than-lethal rounds, and I'd like another team member to follow with the same. Do I have any volunteers? I want backup to be ready to roll with the hardest punching drek ya got, so if the building has been taken by hostiles, I want to drop 'em and drop 'em hard. If we can keep one alive, we do so for intelligence gathering, but otherwise, I don't think I have to impress upon each of you how dangerous an area we're going into this is. We will secure the building at 26th and State, and formulate our next move there."
August turns to Wires before continuing. "Wires, I want 3 drones on the east bank of the South River. Since we're looking for a termite shaman, we're looking for an above-ground lair. I noticed a few buildings that were boarded up and are possible sites for recon, once the area has been observed. Chuck, you know a lot more than I do about how these hunks of plascrete keep standing. Did you notice anything in the imagery that pulls you toward one or two buildings as being more likely candidates than the others? Even the boarded up buildings should have one or two avenues of ingress for the Fly-Spies, so that's what I want to use to put eyes on this cockroach first.
"As it stands, we will extract to the same position and along a similar route, but time will tell on that account. I need every soldier here to pull this off. Anybody plan on going home in a bag tonight?
"Good. Y'all know Cermak. You know the stories. But I'll tell ya, whatever is still kicking down here is kicking cuz it's lived through some drek. It's kicking cause it's mean, and it's nasty, and it's done some things that'll chill even this old merc's heart. But whatever we see, it hasn't lived through Viper team. I've got tougher, I've got meaner, I've got nastier with me right here. Viper team on. We're locked, we're loaded, now let's get this done."
After he finishes speaking, August gets up from his seat, and takes his place near the back of the humvee, passing Weedy along the way and gives her combat armor a solid punch in the chest. "you're my eyes out here, girl. You keep these boys safe," and with that August prepares the drone feed.
-
"Chuck, Jack, I want you both on those weapon mounts should we need to go hot.
Chuck nodded, "Yes sir."
"Barring any new intel, our plan is to take the building as a tactical maneuver. We will announce our presence upon breaching the building on the off chance that our target is still present. I'm going to go in with less-than-lethal rounds, and I'd like another team member to follow with the same. Do I have any volunteers? I want backup to be ready to roll with the hardest punching drek ya got, so if the building has been taken by hostiles, I want to drop 'em and drop 'em hard. If we can keep one alive, we do so for intelligence gathering, but otherwise, I don't think I have to impress upon each of you how dangerous an area we're going into this is. We will secure the building at 26th and State, and formulate our next move there."
Chuck just shook his head at this. "No go, sir. I pack a lot, but its all lethal. I recommend puttin myself in the vanguard during the breach. Shotguns ain't too good at range, and I have a limited number of cannon rounds. I'd prefer to save them for something nasty, sir. It'll eat my ammo, but remember that I have limited suppressive capabilities too. And to be honest sir, I'd prefer to be the first one bein shot at. I reckon I got more experience bein shot at than anyone here. I ain't proud or nothin, but I done got pretty good at it. The rear guard is normally my bread 'n butter, but I ain't gotta deal with my armor smothering me tonight. My mobility will be an asset should you choose to utilize it, sir. Don't let these old bones fool y'all, now. The lady over yonder'd be the only one here who could give me a run for my money."Chuck broke out of mission mode for just a moment to give a rare smile and a wink to Weedy. "Though when I was her age I'd have left an old man like me in the dirt."
August turns to Wires before continuing. "Wires, I want 3 drones on the east bank of the South River. Since we're looking for a termite shaman, we're looking for an above-ground lair. I noticed a few buildings that were boarded up and are possible sites for recon, once the area has been observed. Chuck, you know a lot more than I do about how these hunks of plascrete keep standing. Did you notice anything in the imagery that pulls you toward one or two buildings as being more likely candidates than the others? Even the boarded up buildings should have one or two avenues of ingress for the Fly-Spies, so that's what I want to use to put eyes on this cockroach first.
Chuck nodded. "I reckon I ought a look at that, sir. I'll ask Wires to look over it while I'm at it. He knows a thing or two about structural integrity himself." He got up, pulled up the satellite imagery in question and examined the buildings in designated area. Chuck approached Wires and unsealed his helmet to take it off, cradling it against his side. "If you were a big ol termite which one of these buildings'd look nice n cozy to you?"
-
>>”Captain, I got shockers in the pea shooter. It’s not optimal but an option you should know about.”
-
"Barring any new intel, our plan is to take the building as a tactical maneuver. We will announce our presence upon breaching the building on the off chance that our target is still present. I'm going to go in with less-than-lethal rounds, and I'd like another team member to follow with the same. Do I have any volunteers?
"Sir! Yes, sir! I can back you up with the taser unless you've got an extra clip of shockers for the rifle. Either way."
"As it stands, we will extract to the same position and along a similar route, but time will tell on that account. I need every soldier here to pull this off. Anybody plan on going home in a bag tonight?
"SIR! NO, SIR!"
After he finishes speaking, August gets up from his seat, and takes his place near the back of the humvee, passing Weedy along the way and gives her combat armor a solid punch in the chest. "you're my eyes out here, girl. You keep these boys safe," and with that August prepares the drone feed.
Weedy looks down at her chestplate after the punch. "Roger that, Sir!" she says with a combination grin and warface. She loves it when August does shit like that.
-
"I've got a clip of buzzers for Matilda. Probably take down a horse in some cases, but if you want someone to go into a dark building with ya with non-lethal rounds, I've got plenty of light." He would say, his voice sounding slightly robotic as the suit broadcasts what he says. "Though, I don't know how the boys in black will feel about lil old me comin' in with a marksman rifle and these comfy clothes." He would say, patting his chest to give a slightly comical metallic noise.
Getting into the humvee, Jack would take on of the gunner spots. While Chuck was better with these weapons than he was, he still had some training. Plus, throw enough ammo down the range and you will hit something. "I know I'm not coming back in a bag."
-
[Chicago Airspace, Chicago, May 2076]
As the members of Viper Team banter between each other Wires brings the bird in for the approach; the landing zone and surrounding areas are covered in a light, rolling fog, but between thermal sensors and high-quality optics the team is confident that they won't have to go in hot for once.
The wind at altitude has picked up somewhat, buffeting Black Betty back and forth as Wires brings her in for landing. With a pilot like Wires at the stick the even the size and bulk of the Banshee is no real obstacle, however, and the landing is so soft the crew barely even feels the aircraft touch down before the powerful engine of the Humvee roars to life. In a perfectly timed series of events the bird has touched down, deployed the Humvee from the rear hatch, and touched off again with a mighty blast of powerful thrusters, and despite the noise the area immediately surrounding Viper team is quiet as the grave with the exception of the gravel crunching underneath the large tires of the Humvee and the idling of its powerful motor.
[Lake Meadows Park @ 1917 hours, Chicago, May 2076]
Viper team watches from their Humvee as the thunderbird heads for the skies, hoping the heavy cumulonimbus east of Lake Michigan stays put. Weather reports have a low-pressure front steadily moving west which could dissipate the light fog currently covering the ground, but depending on how quickly it moves it could also mean lots and lots of acid rain, maybe even thunderstorms. With sunset just an hour away the team has limited sunlight left to reach their target, and everybody knows you don't stay out at night in the CZ unless you've got a major death wish.
The big armored car has little difficulty crossing the terrain from the park onto East 31st Street, and Wires proceeds slowly along the predetermined route while the drones scout ahead. The visual data is a little grainy at first due to the background noise this close to the Cermak blast, but Wires' RCC is easily able to compensate for it for the time being.
The landscape is bleak to say the least; most buildings look fairly decent with some almost completely leveled, what vegetation is left looks somewhat sickly green and brown from years of acid rain, and the occasional rotting body reveals just how inhospitable the area really is. Jack and Gale feel these effects up close and personal, as the ethereal world has been gravely affected by the horrors that have taken place here over the years. An aura of death lingers in every crevice and around every corner, and the long shadows cast by the setting sun looks even longer for those with the Talent. It's almost like there's something watching your every move, and the general feelings of dread and fear permeates the landscape to such an extent that it can be felt by all members of Viper team.
-
The landing goes off without a hitch "Like a leaf on the wind." Wires says to no one but himself.
He quickly gets down to business though once the Banshee has cleared the LZ. "Viper-1, Viper-3 going under to provide Overwatch duties. I need the speed, SIr." He just finishes the sentence as his head falls back into the seat. And Wires slips into the virtual world.
Wires persona looks all business. A faceless man in combat uniform, except some of Wires crazy seems to slip through. The t-shirt seems to be in a constant flux of band logos, crazy anime scenes and the occasional vulgar saying. Wires floats freely in a black expanse surrounded by screens. Each feeding from a different camera or sensor provided by the teams pi-tac and the drones.
"Viper-1, Overwatch is up and runnning. Deploying drones on assigned missions. Linking feeds. Count-off confirming receipt."
-
>>Roger that, Viper-3. Feed is up and running. Hell of a landing back there, over.
August adjusts to the feed. It's strange not being able to control his field of vision in a hot zone, like watching the war on the trids. It's a strange, disconnected feeling, and honestly, he doesn't like it one bit. Still, August focuses on the job at hand, looking for any tell-tale clues of something amiss, despite the grain in the footage. A glint of light from a wire, a smooth patch where something has been cleared away, or a stack of rubble that would provide cover: August focuses hard for a sign of any of these tricks he's used himself over the years.
-
[Lake Meadows Park @ 1920 hours, Chicago, May 2076]
Mission Time (after insertion): +00:03
With the Humvee on the ground the team begins the slow but steady trek towards their first rendezvous while the drones scout ahead; the urban terrain feels comfortably familiar, but there's a distinct tinge of fear and death in the air.
The video feeds from the two Fly-Spy drones flanking the Humvee come in solid thanks to Wires' significant noise reduction techniques; the immediate area surrounding East 31st Street is eerily quiet, with very little movement to be seen. As the Humvee quietly snakes it's way around the burned out shells of old vehicles, the occasional rat can be seen running away to hide in the decaying buildings lining the road.
[POV: Viper-1 and 2]
As you watch the feeds from Fly-Spy 3 through 5 making their way towards the target buildings as the crow flies, you take a quick look around yourselves; the team seems quietly confident, sitting in their seats at the ready, their posture tense but focused. From your birds-eye view of the route towards your recon objective, you spot several dilapidated buildings that look like they're occupied by squatters, but only a few of them are close enough to your current route to pose potential threats. The civilians you see are all carrying some form of weapon, however, though the level of detail from the drone feeds and the fog covering the ground makes it difficult to determine more details. As the Humvee passes Dunbar Park the drones acquire a lock on the targeted buildings, and the Pilot programs immediately report ready to infiltrate their objective.
[POV: Viper-3]
Piloting the Humvee at this speed is childs-play; you could do this in your sleep. Still, you take not of the large amounts of trash and debris that litters the roads, and make a mental note that if you ever need to haul ass this will get tricky fast. Several roadblocks have been set up and later on demolished or moved, some out of makeshift barricades created from rubble, other from cars that have been moved into the way. The feeds from Fly-Spy 1 and 2 shows the roads ahead are fairly clear, and you've managed to find several alternate roads should something happen.
[POV: Viper-4 and 6]
Having manned your respective guns you keep a close eye on the surrounding areas. The drone feeds confirm that there is little movement to be seen apart from the occasional rat, but every now and again you see movement out of the corner of your eye that's far too big to be a rat. Whenever you turn to get a closer look, however, there's nothing to be seen. A sinking feeling settles in your guts that you're being watched by something, but you've no idea who or what it could be. Nothing is showing up on the drone feeds, and whatever it is it hasn't made any aggressive moves yet.
[POV: Viper-5]
From the front seat of the Humvee you have a perfect vantage point of the road ahead and to either side. With your keen eyes and expert knowledge of the CZ, you spot a few devil rats sneering at the vehicle before scurrying away. When something moves in your peripheral vision, you keep your cool and observe it without turning your head to look at it. The shape of the creature is almost cloaked in the shadows between buildings making it very difficult to spot, and it's surface coating seems to change before your very eyes. You've encountered hellhounds before, but this is something else, something more sinister perhaps; as the Humvee passes a large overturned bus you lose sight of the creature, and when you next look in the direction of where you saw it there is nothing to be seen.
-
Confident that the drones will do there work properly, and wanting to put eyes on the team's immediate vicinity, August switches off the drone feed and takes the driver's side turret. >>Viper Team, go Catalan Closed, over. August establishes his arc of fire, and checks to make sure that his weapon is ready should he need it.
-
The low rumble of the engine barely idling, the soft crunch of tire on rubble, the skitter of tiny devilrat claws on concrete. Even through the multiple layers of reinforced armor between Weedy and the outside world, she can still hear things out there. Nothing sounds out of the ordinary for the CZ. She minimizes all her various feeds and AROs, instead focusing all her attention on watching the road ahead. One of the nicest things about the new eyes was that they never needed to blink like the old ones did, so now when she sees things like the one she's been seeing on and off for this whole trip, she's CERTAIN they're real. She doesn't let an ounce of emotion show on her face or posture, remaining ice cold "razorgirl" on the outside, but already something doesn't feel right. Then again, nothing ever feels right this close to that fuckin hole.
She's holding the AK in a relaxed position, ready to exit the vehicle and begin firing at a moment's notice should the order be given.
-
Viper-3 confrimed what Chuck already suspected about the buildings in question, and he relayed the information to Viper-1. With landing eminent, Chuck stopped cradling his helmet and placed it back on his head. He ensured it is sealed properly and took a moment to test it as he returned to his seat.
[Chicago Airspace, Chicago, May 2076]
The wind at altitude has picked up somewhat, buffeting Black Betty back and forth as Wires brings her in for landing. With a pilot like Wires at the stick the even the size and bulk of the Banshee is no real obstacle, however, and the landing is so soft the crew barely even feels the aircraft touch down before the powerful engine of the Humvee roars to life."
Not bad for an old man. Hell. Look who's talkin. "Smooth as a babe's bottom, Viper-2." Chuck fell silent after that and stepped up to the passenger side weapon mount. His helmet hid the slightest grin from the rest of Viper team as he put his hands on the AA-16. It ain't the big girl upstairs...Still, I recon there's somethin to be said about a full auto shotgun with a couple hundred rounds.
As the Humvee proceeded along the designated route, Chuck kept an eye out for trouble. Everything seemed mostly usual from what he's seen in the Chicago and the CZ. There were random civilians scared by the passing of an unknown military vehicle, corpses of the unfortunate or stupid rotting here and there and the occasional rat darting about. However, he noted nothing of concern for the moment. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched, however. Just as he thought he caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye, whatever it was disappeared. Fraggin 'critters slinking about. "Somethin's watchin me Viper-5. This critter's good. It's gone soon as ya notice it. I figure ya might know a thing or two about what bumps in the night 'round these parts. Ringin any bells?"
Confident that the drones will do there work properly, and wanting to put eyes on the team's immediate vicinity, August switches off the drone feed and takes the rear turret. >>Viper Team, go Catalan Closed, over. August establishes his arc of fire, and checks to make sure that his weapon is ready should he need it.
Chuck nodded. "Roger. Viper-4 maintaining position. Over."
-
>>Viper Team, go Catalan Closed, over.
"Roger."
"Somethin's watchin me Viper-5. This critter's good. It's gone soon as ya notice it. I figure ya might know a thing or two about what bumps in the night 'round these parts. Ringin any bells?"
The thought that these critters might just be some shadowhounds doesn't give the little ork one bit of relief. Not only can they be kinda nasty in the wrong spot if there's too many of em, but just cause it seems like a shadowhound, doesn't mean it IS a shadowhound. The CZ is rife with deception at every turn. You stay on maximum guard whether it is or it AINT! Still, despite her gut feeling of what the creatures are, she doesn't want to give the impression that she's certain.
Without turning her head away from the road ahead, Weedy whispers into her subvocal mic. "Multiple critters likely. Possibly pack animals, maybe from a den nearby. Don't look straight at em. They're too smart for that." Then, giving it a beat before continuing, as though to sever the two thoughts from one another "Could be just shadowhounds."
-
Without turning her head away from the road ahead, Weedy whispers into her subvocal mic. "Multiple critters likely. Possibly pack animals, maybe from a den nearby. Don't look straight at em. They're too smart for that." Then, giving it a beat before continuing, as though to sever the two thoughts from one another "Could be just shadowhounds."
Chuck sighed, but not deeply enough for the team to catch. I reckon critters bleed too. Morior Invictus. "Roger that, viper-5. Eyes forward."
-
"Roger, Catalin Closed Formation. Wires continues his job at overwatch, his senses on edge. He was no fan of being tracked in the CZ. Even if they were just hounds.
Viper 1, Permission to send Spy-2 on a Russian Perimeter?" Wires keyed up the plan before he even had permision but waited for the 'Go' to engage the commands.
-
Without turning her head away from the road ahead, Weedy whispers into her subvocal mic. "Multiple critters likely. Possibly pack animals, maybe from a den nearby. Don't look straight at em. They're too smart for that." Then, giving it a beat before continuing, as though to sever the two thoughts from one another "Could be just shadowhounds."
Chuck sighed, but not deeply enough for the team to catch. I reckon critters bleed too. Morior Invictus. "Roger that, viper-5. Eyes forward."
Gale pipes up over the comm when the subject of the critters comes up.
>>”Viper-2, I’m taking a peek in astral.”
-
Jack would man the rear turret to give his team mates the full 360 coverage needed. He thought he saw something, but each time he tried to look, it vanished. 'This isn't good.' he would think to himself as his teams started to talk about it. He would keep quiet and man his turret, letting their magical guide do the work here as he wasn't as specialized as him. What he did do though was keep his head clear of thoughts of fear this close to the crater, as he knew to his bones this area felt like it was attuned with death and thats what would happen to them if they weren't careful.
-
Viper 1, Permission to send Spy-2 on a Russian Perimeter?" Wires keyed up the plan before he even had permision but waited for the 'Go' to engage the commands.
>>Go nuts, Viper-3, over.
August switches over to thermographic vision, Maybe I can get a bead on one of these critters. Dealing with any shadowhounds, didn't sound like a good way to start the mission, but it was a far sight better than some of the ways things could have gone. As far as August is concerned, there wasn't much to do but stay the course and stay ready. He doubts the team looked like an easy snack. No, it was the other possibilities that August is more worried about: critters as a first wave, or even as scouts for something farther beneath the surface.
Only real question now, is whether or not to put Weedy on that top turret. As it stands, August is confident in the hummer's armor to keep his team safe, but putting Weedy up there would be trading her relative safety for some increased firepower. It wouldn't make a difference to these shadowhounds, but if this whole thing is a trap, whoever's setting it would probably love to get a potshot from a few blocks away at an exposed merc with a Crockett or some other nastiness. Of course, if it is a trap, he'll need someone up on that turret. >>Viper-5, take the top gun, and stay low, will ya? Viper Team, we've got armed civvies on the horizon. We shouldn't be passing too close to make eyes on 'em, but don't get so caught up on the shadowhounds, or whatever they are, that you lose sight of what's beyond them, over.
-
>>Viper-5, take the top gun, and stay low, will ya?
Barely uttering the words, -roger that- She tries to make as little sound as possible once they're on the ground. Not for the first time, Weedy is happy with both her small frame and the relatively light armor she wears. It grants her a level of mobility inside the hummer that most of the rest of Viper team do not enjoy. In two quick and economic movements, she's opened the top hatch, popped her top third out, and manned the manual controls for the big gun that lives up there. This is her second favorite position on the team. She can smell the real air and hear the real sounds of the outside and It's kind of refreshing and kind of repulsive at the same time. It's tough to describe. On one hand, there's the unshakable sense that something is fundamentally wrong in a way you can't describe that always comes along with being this close to Cermak. But on the other hand, this is where Weedy spent most of her childhood, so it also kinda feels like home.
>> Viper Team, we've got armed civvies on the horizon. We shouldn't be passing too close to make eyes on 'em, but don't get so caught up on the shadowhounds, or whatever they are, that you lose sight of what's beyond them, over.
Armed civvies are among the most dangerous things IN the CZ. Weedy feels rather lucky that the best way to to spot shadowhounds is in the peripheral, because she's keeping her main sights set on the road and the armed metas ahead, using her vision magnification to try and make out numbers and armaments.
-
Wires mentally gives the command to Fly-spy 2 which immediately breaks right and doubles back around the perimeter of the Humvee. Wires keeps his attention on all the data being fed to him from the drones. Checking the progress of the recon mission from Spies 3 through 5. And monitoring the aerial intel provided by Betty's eye in the sky.