2072: Game World, IC thread for 2072: Recruitment always open! Options

[AppliedCheese]

"Czzkt - I've got two shooters dead up here, ghillie suits, mil armor, assault rifles. Copper, that spirit of yours ate the last one's liver or something after she went down. Very messy. One of them was looking through a fiber. Tommy's boys are acting unnaturally deliberate over on their side, and there's an alarm going off. We probably have a minute before they come on over and trigger the Hound response. "

Hmm. More dead female snipers. Either we ran into the Amazon Brigade tonight, or Teague likes his femees fatale. I suppose their death's play better for the media if they fail.

Dealer sets an internal counter for 60 seconds, rifles one of the shooters' commlinks, pops the battery out, and saves it for exploitation later. His gecko gloves yank aside her face mask, and he records what image he can from her face. Then he turns his eye to the fiber for a few seconds.

<<48>>

"Czzkt. Shooters were looking at an RV set up for living in the middle of the warehouse. Going to take a closer look. Sending down a spy fly. If we need to get in, the door is open for you, Copperhead, and I can cover it from a skylight. ---break--- Czzkt. Also, there's a repeater up here, I'm going to try to hack it with a tutorsoft Pixel sent and some of Molly's programs. I think pixel's dead. How's everyone else? "

Assault team, Molly, shooters, Pixel, maybe Ember. Tonight alone. You can say this for Dealer: people seem to die around him, though not always the ones you would want to.

Dealer pops out and turns on his spy fly, then sets to some simple commands. It will be a, no pun intended, fly on the wall inside the warehouse for the rest of the team. As an afterthought, he restricts it to sending burst transmission every 5-7 seconds instead of constant broadcast. Six careful seconds with a glass cutter and gecko gloves, and small hole is open for entry from the nearest skylight.

<<39>>

He throws the fly spy through and then begins moving to the repeater. Upon arrival He presses himself flat against the slope of the roof, and begins to listen to the cheerful Cupcake based tutorsoft.

Uh-huh. "Make sure Hidden Hands V1.6 is running". Got it. Connect this plug to that line...:Select the Exploit program from the HackMaster Special start file"...click run...right...okay, yes, no, wait, go back. Right. Got it. "Crash the Analyze program with BlinderWorm 2072". I think that worked. Maybe? 'Have your Icon Attach Delicious Frosting to the Cupcake." What? "This is a sniffer program" - that makes more sense - so, according to this, we should be good...right? Oh, I suppose I should be searching the node too...well, just follow the helpful wand then...

[Seth]

@ SuicideKings
[April 16th 2072; 00:05:15 The Warehouse East of Allanby's]

Demon fires a few more round's after the wielder of the LAW, but there were no satisfying screams, or thumps. The sniper rifle smashed several holes in the already battered roof of the Sport's warehouse. Flames were already pouring out of the hole the shooter had made earlier

!BOOM! !BOOM! !Zing!

The sound of grenades going off in the fire was deafening. Shrapnel erupted out of the hole, and the roof began to collapse. At the same time Demon became aware that he had been hit twice by richochets from bullets that were bouncing off his armor.

[April 15th 2072; 00:05:15 Allanby's warehouse]
The guard's collapsed under Copperhead's gentle administrations.

[AppliedCheese]

@ SuicideKings
[April 16th 2072; 00:05:15 Allanby's Warehouse]

Dealer proceeded to bungle and softly curse his way through the Pixel-Special hacking tutorial. Besides the fact that his AR interface will take god knows how much time to have all the icons reverted from wands, cupcakes, and cutesy cartoon characters, he is not very good at it. Frankly, Molly's programs are doing most of the work, Dealer is just mentally clicking the little "ok" buttons as they show up. It is, after the adrenalin rush of a roofborne-gymnastics-filled-victory-or-death firefight, incredibly urbane and frustrating. The fact that 100m to his east most of the ammo and grenades he took from Molly's are cooking off with a periodic bang doesn't help any, especially not in the middle of having to have his icon bite the cherry off the stem to do...something.

"Czzkt - Demon, Copper, Tommy's boys are starting to move your way. Somebody is trying to copy and send a ton of information from the RV in there. I'm through the firewall, and I've got a sniffer on it, but who fraggin knows if they figured it out. I haven't heard from Ember in there either. I'm not optimistic, but he was in one of those cocoons...ok, I'm through, we got the stuff we need. We need to get the frag out though. I'm thinking north, throw some smoke to the south to get the goons looking that way. Ideas?"

Besides hiring a new hacker.

ZING!

Drek. And whats this about "I'm coming for you next Dealer?" Clever little program. But maybe I should, you know, disconnect, just in case, now that I have the data.

Dealer does just that, recalls his spyfly, and decides to slip over a bit on the roof. Just in case. Then its back to skinlink.

[JxJxA]

@ Suicide Kings
[April 16th 2072; 00:05:15 The Warehouse East of Allanby's]
[The Pixel Special, ID "Aubert Benoit"]

What the hell? Demon thinks to himself as something hard and solid catches him wickedly in his recently repaired rib cage. He then realizes what happened. A combination of his aural dampeners and a thirst for revanche had kept him from realizing that the LAW-induced fire is currently cooking off all of the ammunition his companions had left in the van. Rather than stay and get shot to death by a fully-armed fire, he decides to bug out. He grabs his smartpack and heads for the quickest and safest way off the roof that puts him near his friends...

[Seth]

[April 16th 2072; 00:05:15 KLX Matrix show]
"...And tonight we see especially heavy betting on the death lottery. Say John, what do the figures tell us?". <Cut to respectable salt and pepper haired statistician> "Well Jacklyn, it all depends on whether or not there is another fight with Gamma's terrorist group. The usual nightly figures are all skewed by the two fights already seen. Over 100 deaths at the Jucy Lucy and 30 at the Drunken Drone. All of you out there betting on an average night of between 4 and 15 and going to loose a lot of money..."

[April 16th 2072; 00:05:15, KMGG, 24 hours a day live Music news]
"...And now we announce the WINNNERRR of the ticket for two to the unexpected charity gig tomorrow. Let's here it for Debby from Greenwood." <Canned Applause>. "Of course the real question everyone is asking is what will the Concrete Spectres announce tomorrow at their breakfast with their new manager: Mr Teague. We have an exclusive interview from his house at Vashon Heights."

"Thank you, Thank you. Yes I was surprised to hear that I was named the sole beneficiary in Mr Allanby's will. We have of course worked together for many years, and I have nothing but praise for his professional behavior and incredible skill. I will of course..."

[AppliedCheese]

@ SuicideKings
[April 16th 2072; 00:05:15 Allanby's Warehouse]

Files zipped across Dealer's vision as he completed his first ever successful hack. By Pixel's standards, it would have been undoubtedly sloppy and slow, but it worked. Kind of. As he watched files count backwards, the dawning realization hit him that he had hit the transmitter too late. It was uploading in reverse. And the first dates coming across his AR said April 2nd. Anything which exonerated the others was going to need to be later. And since that was the only way the heat was coming off him, the decision more or less made itself.

"Czzkt - guys, broke the system too late. I'm getting his files from 02 APR and earlier. We need later. We need to go in and retrieve hard copy OSDs. The eats door is camera'd probably by whoever is in there. I'm bursting what I have so far and the the access code for the fly spy feed thats about to come up. Copperhead, could use some astral in here, and, worst comes to worst, the eats door is not alarmed anymore, so we only have to worry about the other runners inside. Come in hard if I start screaming or something. Demon, you still out there? We may need a few people to take one to the head if they get too interested in whats going on inside...still now word from Ember?"

Dealer finds a suitable protrusion and ties off a good length of stealth rope to it securely. Then he secures his rifle tightly across his back, pops out a D-Ring and hooks in.

1-2, me and you, 3-4, out the door...or down the warehouse, as it were...

Some quick work with a glasscutter and he has a way in. Fly-spy goes first, then a final scan with the endoscope just in case diving head first down a repel line with taser in hand is a really bad idea...

[Zaranthan]

@I'm On A Boat!
[April 15th 2072; 23:48 SS Henry VIII 4000 meters off shore, Puget Sound]

Robert stared up at the ladder. No way. No way was he making it up there without some help. He closed his eyes, reaching out to the spirit world. It wouldn't take much, just a small presence to steady his hands and feet. The living rock had the strength he needed. It seemed like such a long time since he had called upon the spirits. Would they still answer him? His mind turned back to the old chants, reciting from his heart, not his mouth. Sure enough, a small presence rose up from the sea bed and coalesced next to him in the astral. Still got it.

Such a weak force would not understand complicated orders, but Robert had no intention of asking it for anything fancy. The best way to communicate with such a creature was through simple emotions, and he held a short astral "conversation" with the Earth mote by projecting first gratitude, then a desire for protection. The amorphous critter seemed to understand, rolling itself around Robert's astral form. He felt his muscles relax and his thoughts grow more clear. Now for the hard part.

He opened his eyes, the others had started their ascent. Best to just get on with it. He secured his weapon, tightening the strap across his chest, grabbed the ladder firmly in both hands, and promptly slipped off the side of the speedboat.

*THUD* The impact with the side of the freighter rattled his teeth. His elbow desperately hooked into the corner of one rung, he flailed in the darkness, his frail muscles complaining already of the strain. Breathe. One arm at a time. You can do this, just focus. Focu-- His internal narrative cut off with a realization: he'd never be able to pull this off while maintaining concentration on his spell. Wrapping a hand in the ladder rope, he glanced about. The others seemed distracted with their own climbing. One was seated in the back of the boat, likely in VR. There was no choice. They might kill him if they noticed, but keeping up the spell would guarantee a fall into the sound, and there was zero chance of swimming to safety. He tugged the form-fitting armor hood tightly around his face, said a quick prayer to whomever was listening, and started up the ladder.

The going was slow. At least seven times he found himself bracing his shoulder to crash into the hull as the wind and choppy seas had their way with the lightweight ladder. Overhead, he heard the buzzing of drones and other gadgets as the team set up. Finally, he hauled himself over the rail and flopped on to the deck, face-down, gasping for breath. He glanced at the clock on his display, thirty-two seconds to make that climb. Beaten, exhausted, and they hadn't even encountered any resistance yet. He drew up onto all fours, and gathered some mana around himself to hide his face once more.

...and promptly blew it all out his ears. The climb had shaken him worse than he thought. A second attempt produced only a feeble screen over his hideous features. It would have to do. He didn't have all day to lie on the floor "catching his breath." He drew himself upright and turned to the others: "So, are we ready to go?"

[Friendbot2000]

So I am joining the Dysfunctional Family campaign and I thought I would post what my character is doing before Aria works me in. Anyways, here goes.
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Ajax slumped over on his bar stool sipping a bottle of whiskey. He sighed, no jobs yet and money was getting tight. He should be getting a paycheck soon though, just sent in a massive story on drug use in corporate policing squads, blew the whole thing wide open. His editor was very pleased as always. Luckily his employer valued his anonymity when submitting stories. A man who is a deniable asset is a valuable thing. Still, the money doesn’t pay the bills, or for decent alcohol. He emptied the bottle of whiskey in one gulp”Jesus, James sure waters down this swill. I barely felt a buzz.” Today was a special for Ajax. Today was the anniversary of his wife’s death and that meant only one thing, he would be carried home by James, the troll bartender. He and James had an understanding and the sort of friendship that didn’t involve spending time with each other outside of Murphy’s, but they still looked out for one another in a gentlemen bachelor sort of way.
James didn’t charge him for drinks on the anniversary, he either pitied or sympathized with Ajax, Ajax was never quite sure which one it was. Ajax looked at the blinking clock on his AR display, shit, he had been since 9PM and it was almost 11 in the morning. He sighed, time to go home. Ajax hoisted himself off the stool and took his longcoat from the coat rack.

“See ya tomorrow Ajax” The barkeep, James hollered. Ajax shook his head, “See ya tomorrow James” he said under his breath. The streets smelled foul, full of pollution and other assorted filth. Ajax made his way to his loft a couple of blocks down, his revolver within easy reach in case of trouble. Last week some druggie decided to mug him on his way home. He got a nasty surprise in the way of two bullets splitting his forehead in two. Bastard didn’t even have the decency to have anything on him to sell.

Before he knew it he was standing at the door to his loft, he inserted the keycard into the maglock and threw his coat on the floor of his living room. Collapsing on his couch he left a message to his fixer to find him some damn work already. Sleep eventually took him and he dreamed the same dreams he did every anniversary, dreams about his wife.

[Seth]

@I'm On A Boat!
[April 15th 2072; 23:48 SS Henry VIII 4000 meters off shore, Puget Sound]
Siran looked at the ladder. She had vague memories of doing this before. Images of leaping from boat to boat. Images of climbing knotted ropes while guards with guns patrolled the top. The visions refused to come into focus.

Lets get to the top, and wreak some havoc. Silently in, Chaotically out. Just the way I like it Grabbing the ladder she began to climb. Moving silently upwards, and faint sounds she was making masked by her spirit concealment, it all went well until just before the top. Siran was out of practice and had forgotten a most important rule about climbing: the last bit is the most dangerous. Pausing as she reached the very top to check for guards and, it must be admitted, admire the view, a gust of wind was enough to cause her to slip.

It was a long way down. Mustn't scream. Mustn't scream she thought to herself, and heroically managed to grab onto the rope some 10 metres down. Hanging by one hand over the propeller stream 10s of meters below wasn't pleasant. A second hand joined the first on the ladder rope, and Siran swung back. Taking a deep breath, she recommenced the climb, being somewhat more cautious, and this time made it onto the ship.

Well she thought I've obviously forgotten quite a lot. Lets hope I have remembered what is important. Pirating a ship is just like riding a bike. Looking around both astrally and physically she scanned the small bit of the ship that she could see, while heading for cover.

[AppliedCheese]

@I'm On A Boat!
[April 15th 2072; 23:48 SS Henry VIII 4000 meters off shore, Puget Sound]

The seconds ticked along ever so slowly as the less proficient members of the running team clambered up the ladder behind Silk. It seemed like an agonizing long time. Silk's skillful approach, her timing of the right moments to climb and right moments to stay still, did a lot to make sure that the team made it on unseen behind her. However, even with her well timed and well executed ingress, there was precious little she could do about the sound being made every time the bodies of her teammates covered with armor and guns, crashed into the hull.

Fortunately, it would seem that she didn't have to do anything. Farther down deck, it looked liked one the crew men, <<Senior Cargoman Halter>> was launching into a tirade against another. The AR overlay helpfully marked the recipient as <<Apprentice Cargoman Ellis>>. While the entire one way conversation could not be heard, certain key phrases got whipped back to the team by the wind:

"..worthless piece of...could have killed....music in your earbuds!...talk to the chief later!...if I ever..."

The team was ready to get to work.

[Aria]

@Dysfunctional Family (Doza, Jotamon, Isaac & Ajax)
[April 15th, 2072 11:06am; Moving towards the Renton Safehouse & ShadowSEA Virtual Meeting Room]

Following the link given to you by Mr J you make your way to the anonymous virtual meeting rooms offered for a fee by the ShadowSEA boards. Rather than the expected iconography you find yourself in a weird sort of garden that triggers dim memories of the stories of Alice. The girl sitting beside the stream also conforms to the theme but the resolution of her icon persuades you that she isn’t a simple piece of system architecture. The grass moves under her feet in startling detail and the sweet scent of honeysuckle wafts upwards

<<Welcome Doza, thank you for bringing your compatriots…>> she pauses briefly <<Jotamon? I hadn’t expected to see you here this soon…interesting…anyway, I’m sure you have many questions you need to ask. I may even be able to answer some of them…>>

@Ajax: Through your alcohol haze you become aware of the persistent buzz of your link…it seems your fixer is finally trying to reach you. When you eventually manage to answer it an unfamiliar face greats you

<<Mr Ajax. I have some work you may be interested in. Are you available for a virtual meet on the ShadowSEA server [here] in the next twenty minutes?>>

[Aria]

@ SuicideKings
[April 16th 2072; 00:xx:xx Astral around Allanby's Warehouse]

Ember gloried in the feel of the astral around him and the release from the chemical tang in his mouth from the pain killers. With Gale by his side he swept forwards to scout the warehouse whilst watching his compatriots spread out with cool professionalism to take up their positions prior to engaging the target.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of an aura on the roof of the warehouse Pixel’s van was in…the feeling of danger was overwhelming but before he could react to the threat he saw the bloom of fire from some sort of weapon and then the warehouse erupted with violent surge of energies. Cursing to himself he hurled his astral form back towards his body. Although he couldn’t feel the heat here on the astral it didn’t take much imagination to understand that his meat wouldn’t be so lucky. He thanked Pixel’s foresight in installing those cocoons and then insisting that he use one of them.

Within the inferno in the van he could see that his body was alive for now…the signature weak as his soul roamed the astral but never the less unharmed. He winced as he saw part of the cocoon buckle but it was holding for now…someone would have to pay for this, pay dearly!

He fought the desire to panic…somehow easier as he was floating here as an observer. Summoning the korrigans dancing in the flames he gave them each a simple order.

~One of you each go to my companions and inform them I live. Pixel does not seem to have been so lucky. I will free myself shortly. Then return to me in the building over there~

He vaguely remembered Argent mentioning a pixie working for her…he was saddened that perhaps now he would never get to meet her…

Gathering his rage about him he flung himself back towards the warehouse like an avenging angel. His spear flared with light and fire crackled through his hair as he felt Lugh with him.

~The heathen must pay for their perfidy. Too many times they strike without honour from ambush. Let us show them how a true warrior fights!~

[Aria]

@I'm On A Boat!
[April 15th 2072; 23:48 SS Henry VIII 4000 meters off shore, Puget Sound]

Silk looked back as their muscle dragged himself puffing and wheezing onto the deck. The mage didn’t exactly appear at ease either although she moved more confidently once over the gunwale. The deck hand had moved on, a ping indicating his location on Kahlil’s AR map floating in the corner of her vision. This was overlayed with tactical information about his speed and likely threat…low.

The bridge loomed in the distance, the way impeded by the giant containers and the resulting alleyways between them. Bottled in here would be a good way to get dead if they triggered an alarm.

Checking the contacts on her gecko gloves Silk began to assess a route that would take her slowly along the edge of the containers above eye level. Her negligible weight shouldn’t trigger any of the deck sensors and the advantage of height couldn’t be underestimated. Her chameleon suit would shield her from view and her tac overlay would indicate any danger of skylining herself from anyone on the bridge or on deck.

She subvocalized to the team

<<Seven: I have point, going high. ETA to target 2 mins>>

[Friendbot2000]

@Dysfunctional Family
[April 15th, 2072 11:19AM; ShadowSEA Virtual Meeting Room]

Ajax wearily rubbed his tired eyes, work is good, but it could have come at a time when he didn't have a splitting headache. He sent a short, gruff reply saying that he would be there and dragged his old bones out of bed. He took a quick cold shower to shock himself awake, dressed himself and signed onto the ShadowSEA network. His icon appeared in the meeting room with a swoosh. He cooked up his icon on a rainy day, it was of a tall man in a brown trenchcoat holding a magnifying glass and a pad of paper. It also wore a Rorscach Test mask, a feature he pulled from an old Pre-Awakening graphic novel that he liked.

He entered into the ShadowSEA node and was kind of weirded out by the Alice in Wonderland feel of the place. He saw several other icons standing around a little blonde-haired girl asking her questions, he assumed that was most likely the Johnson. He hung back in the room waiting to be addressed by either the Johnson or the other icons.

[AppliedCheese]

@ SuicideKings
[April 16th 2072; 00:05:15 Allanby's Warehouse]

Dealer finished looking through the endoscope and tucked it back into his pocket. Looked clear, and the fly spy wasn't showing anything. Time to go then. A slight lean forward, increasing tension on the rope, break the plane, feet in position, center of gravity forward...and then a slight loosening of the brake hand and he was plummeting down the rope headfirst, taser extended as much for balance as for having a weapon ready.

Dealer slowed himself to a stop 4 feet off the ground before flipping around and walking off the last foot of rope. He tucked his still warm to touch rappel glove back in his cargo pocket, but left the D-ring on. Might need to come out the same way after all. Wouldn't stop a fall, but might buy that extra second.

On the ground he surveyed his surroundings, and then slowly approached the RV. A glitter of dust caught his eye, which was odd, because usually dust doesn't glitter.

Sneaky

A burst of aerosol fog revealed the trip laser in full, and some careful back tracking showed it tied to a sizeable block of plastique.

Interesting. Lets see where the fail safes are, and what anti-tampering is here. Maybe I need the clippers, or perhaps the mirror...ooorrr I could just turn it off. Lets go with the "careful inspection". As they say: you have the rest of your life to defuse a bomb.

With a very careful flick of his wrist, Dealer now had his very own booby trap to set somewhere else. As he looked into the RV, he couldn't help but notice that the computer and the old data stacks were large. Very large. Substantially more large than he could carry out...not that he had a bag anymore, since it was merrily burning in a van at the moment.

This could be a issue

"Czzkt - Guys, we have a slight problem..."

[Notsoevildm]

@ SuicideKings
[April 16th 2072; 00:05:15 Allanby's Warehouse]

Copperhead is about to reply to Dealer's request for backup when the hairs on her neck suddenly stand up straight. Turning carefully, she spies the little fairy which passes on the message that its master still lives, before disappearing back to the astral.

<<Ember's still alive! Looks like he's on his way in da astral to back you up Dealer. I gots da door if ya needs me.>>

She glances over to the warehouse where the flames seem to have died down a little.

Not sure how we are going to get him out of that!

On a hunch, she searches the two guards. With their transport up in flames, she hopes that maybe one of them has a vehicle parked neaby. Then she moves to warehouse door, ready to back up the street sam.

When Dealer transmits that they have a 'slight' problem, she puts a size 20 combat boot to the warehouse door.

[AppliedCheese]

@ SuicideKings
[April 16th 2072; 00:05:45 Allanby's Warehouse]

Dealer is halfway through his transmission when the door to the east shudders.

"... we have a lot of data storage to carry out. Like duffel bags full of the stuff. Also, you don't need to kick the door, its unlocked from earlier. There's a camera on the far side though, and maybe an IED so give me a few seconds to let you in. If you're a decent hand with a rope, there's an entrance up top. Middle skylight."

Mages

With that, Dealer began his cautious approach to the eastern door, taking particular care to disable the out of place camera along the way...

[JxJxA]

@ SuicideKings
[April 16th 2072; 00:05:45 Allanby's Warehouse]
[The Pixel Special, ID "Aubert Benoit"]

When the ephemeral spirit pops up in Demon's face, he jerks back a bit in surprise. However, hearing its message of Ember's survival puts a smile on his face. He remembers hearing a while back that mages and spirits have some sort of connection. He has no idea if it is like a 2-way radio or an empathy/sympathy situation, but he gives the 2-way radio bit a try.

"I don't know if you can hear me, mon ami, but I'm glad you're okay. Hopefully, the scélérat who did this is not."

He hears Copperhead's update via commlink a moment later.

<<@ Group: Thank you for letting me know, Copperhead. I don't know if you can hear this, Dealer, but I'm moving towards you. If there is that much data in the RV, perhaps it is best to simply take the vehicle and worry about moving the data later? From the chorus of car alarms sounding in the distance, I suspect that we could hotwire another vehicle to move the data into once we are far away from here.>>

[AppliedCheese]

@ SuicideKings
[April 16th 2072; 00:05:50 Allanby's Warehouse]

Dealer finished up with the motion sensor wired to the camera, quietly turning it off. A remote piece, this was fairly easy. The tricky part was not tripping it while you were doing it, and fortunately it looked like the sensor was primarily aimed at the door. From there the camera really was as easy as pushing the off button. A nice piece for use later too, laser link, optional fiber insertion point, and not even a wireless signal to track it by.

Worst case I can pawn it later. Or set it up on the digs. Not like I can use my old apartment after tonight, but it might be interesting to see who comes calling...

The door itself is mercifully free of explosives or other traps. Which is just as well; there's only so many times Dealer wants to defuse a bomb in a night. The number is zero, but that dream already died, so you take what you can get. He prepares to open the door, sincerely hoping that Copperhead is not getting ready to kick it again.

That would be an anticlimactic way to get taken out of the run...corporate assault squad, all female sniper team like something from a vid, demolitions defused...only to get stomped on by a troll by mistake.

Much to his relief, Dealer avoids a kicking. Even better, it looks like Copperhead has disabled the guards and has them in hand, and a blurry shape can just be seen against the rain, probably Demon, closing in.

Looking over the scene once more, he raises his eyebrow, though the expression is mostly lost beneath the chameleon hood.

Not bad for a mage, not bad at all. When this is over, I know some people who are always scouting for local talent...hell, they're desperate enough to import it at the moment. Of course, they'd probably prefer it if you weren't the face of global terror when you come calling. I guess we should drag those," he points to the unconscious guards, "Inside"

Besides, there's a nice finders fee for mages who'll do some wetwork. Can't fight a war without weapons, right? And, hey, not being an insufferable prick is always a plus in mages as well.

As Copperhead relays Demon's message, Dealer looks at the RV.

"So, who knows how to drive that thing?"

[LostProxy]

@ I'm On A Boat
[April 15th 2072; 23:48 SS Henry VIII 4000 meters off shore, Puget Sound]

As Khalil slowly got the node working again he chose not to tell the others about it. This seems like something best left unknown he mutters silently to himself as he continues through the system. Sitting on the boat he suddenly gets an idea and sends it to Silk and everyone else on her tacnet. <<Why don't I just spoof a message from one of the crew to draw the captain somewhere with less people so we can ambush him?>>

[Aria]

@ I'm On A Boat
[April 15th 2072; 23:48 SS Henry VIII 4000 meters off shore, Puget Sound]

<<I'm no sailor but I can't think of anything short of a major disaster that would draw the Captain off the bridge as they were approaching port...anyone else think of anything short of an engine room fire?>>

[JxJxA]

@ Suicide Kings
[April 16th 2072; 00:05:45 Allanby's Warehouse]
[The Pixel Special, ID "Aubert Benoit"]

"I can," answers Demon. "Just do not ask me to make it fly like a car from the Monaco Grand Prix." I mean, I could TRY to do that...but I doubt we would survive it...

[Notsoevildm]

@ Suicide Kings
[April 16th 2072; 00:06:00 Allanby's Warehouse]
[The Pixel Special, ID "Marylin Monroe"]

A somewhat abashed Copperhead stands on the other side of the door. Taking Dealer's advice, she drags the two unconscious guards into the warehouse. She leaves the bloody mess that was the hellhound where it lies. When she sees the RV and Demon confirms he can drive it, she also dumps the guard's car keys.

"Okay. Get it started. I gonna see if I can get Ember outta da fire.

She looks around for a fire extinguisher and pulls one off the wall. It doesn't seem like it will have much affect on the fires burning in the warehouse, but might be enough to clear a path to Pixel's van.

[AppliedCheese]

@ Suicide Kings
[April 16th 2072; 00:06:00 Allanby's Warehouse]

Dealer nods to Demon.

"Sounds good. Going out the loading bay door? If you get it ready, we'll see what we can do to open that up. Not sure how else they would have got it in here..."

As Copperhead dumps the keys, Dealer swipes them with a tag eraser before pocketing one set. The mage is proving more and more resourceful, to the point you might almost credit some of her success to some skill and quick thinking, rather than the freak accident of birth most mages rely on. Then she starts talking about trying to retrieve Ember.

"Tommy's boys are going to be thick out there, and even if they aren't, the burning warehouse that has more erratic firepower than a go gang is going to be the center of attention. Besides, we need to get this thing out of here before the spikes arrive.

Ember will be fine; no one is going in there any time soon, and he can slip out the back to meet us, or we can come in from a better angle later when the spikes are shooting this place up."

On which note, should get to prepping the exit through the west for Demon. Wonder if Tommy's boys will talk with the spikes, or just let them through.

He rapidly set about to disconnecting various electric and plumbing from the RV as Demon got the rest of the vehicle ready. Dealer disabled the final alarms on the loading doors and flashed a thumbs up back to the group, ready to jump in as soon as the door started to open.

<<@ GRP Suicide Kings: Hey, that RV isn't transmitting anything, right?>>

[LostProxy]

@ I'm On A Boat
[April 15th 2072; 23:48 SS Henry VIII 4000 meters off shore, Puget Sound]

<<Give me one moment people I think I can give us eyes on the bridge.>> Khalil uses his access to command a drone to move on an altered path and give a view of the deck and everyone inside. <<There we go. Now let us see if our target is even there...>>