Opening a private comm channel to Mickey and Charlotte she assumes a body pose of attention and alertness.

<< I can only understand about every fourth word. >>

Light flashes off white breakers rolling into the beach as the shoreline comes up beneath the wide-bodied helo, visible through the door as a shift in direction sends you heading almost directly inland, on your way to the indicated landing spot.

Cirio smoothly angles the aircraft, making the turn as gracefully as possible in the oversized cargocraft.

Nothing but miles of smooth dunes and bleached bones exist between the sparkling waters of the Mediterranean and the arid Sahale. Engine trouble over the Sahara is a pilot's worst nightmare, and he internally curses the dwarf and whatever jamming device she has, manually checking the instrumentation again and again.

And it doesn't hurt to religiously check the weather forecast every 15 minutes or so, either.

Replying to Yi on the same comm channel,

<<I am gettting about three in five. The brogue reminds me of the hooligans after a night at the pub.>>

Mickey leans forward and untangles the mess in AR that Knocker had created for the simulator.

"This will have to do for now. We didn't have time to set you up with a full work-up back at HQ, so you will have to improvise. Remember to breathe lightly."

The smokey interior of the bar assualts the senses, with a pungent odor that fills the nostrils with the cloying scents of a dozen different flavors of tobacco and hashish.

At the far end of the room, opposite the entrance, sit two elves and a human, with a pair of trolls standing behind them that are anything but feminine.

<<The plan is to meet with Deray, secure some information on an Object of Interest to the Foundation and then get back to Pac Rim HQ with the data. Take us in.>>

Charlotte will follow Knocker's directions on where to go, showing her commands that simulate the team's commlink net - designation of targets, threats, egress, etc. She shows her how to define new data types as well so that she can customize their HUDs to her satisfaction. And she'll script the things herself if the luddite can't handle it.

Yi takes a moment to push the tension down and away. A raw feeling moves across her nerves as her system reacts to the AR, it echoes of her "volunteer" work while in prison. Phantom pains travel lightly along her limbs from the submersion in the AR but she clamps down and forces her body to move and react naturally. She looks to Knocker for operational directives.

Voice switched into a clipped cadence that is audible in the cabin, if it weren't for the noise of the chopper wash as the craft flies over the sands, and also present in multiple modes in Augmented Reality, the bored clear intones from the Book.

<<SOP on a interchange with potential hostiles is to secure the extraction route, and maintain watch on on two main threat lines, internal and external. That means we needs lots of eyeballs on the people yer' dealing wit', and keepin' an eye ooot for dastardly ambushers from ootside. Simplest is to pair up, one watch internal, one watch out, then you have one secure the extraction route, then one handling the deal, then one in reserve. Charlotte handles the deal, I'm t' reserve, Cirio handles extraction, that leaves the other two jobs, up to you to pick which of you does which. Anyone left over can join the reserve.

Standard Responses depend on how friendly you want to be wit the wogs after, but the first thing is the reserve supports against the initial threat, then we either Attack, Defend, or Run depending on situational assessment. Attack, we advance on the designated vector, Defend we hold in place and fight. Run, that's actually the hardest to git right. When we run we need to be damned good at t'old leapfrogging.

F'r example, if t'ere an external threat, whomever one that holds, then t'reserve pins t'em down whilst wh'mev'r on external witdr'ws. Then whomever is t'l'st behind the reserve pins them doown while the reserve witdr'ws. Cycle through. T'is hella fluid cause usually some poor bastard catches some lead and misses th're slot in the retreat and whomever next has t'jooomp in and give cover. And yer usually carrying oot t'wounded, so's I'd appreciate if Charlotte w'ld do yer best t'not get hurt as I'm just a wee gal 'n not toooo like'y to be a carrying y'ooot if yer canna hooof it yerself.

T'at's the basics. You want t'is Deray to live if ought goes wrong?>>

<< I will handle internal watch since I will most likely be with the bulk of the group. >>

Yi settles into the AR scenario, her respect rising for the newest member as she seems to know her business so far.

<<Yes, Deray should live, unless the threat is from her or her goons, then we respond in kind. She is a valuable contact and we hope to do business with her in the future.>>

Charlotte's persona picks its way through the crowd and she sits down at the table with Deray and her four goons.

The scenario plays out... differently this time. All of the agents dancing to Knocker's tune as they navigate the sim's threats. When the sim ends Charlotte turns off her glasses and sits back, massaging the muscles of her lower back. "Nice work, everyone."

She grins, "I even managed to not get shot this go 'round. Seems like those practices HQ did me good after all." She gives Yi a light chuck the knee. It's the closest she can get to a shoulder chuck all strapped in like they are. "Though it was much less exciting stepping out into the street over the bodies of the interlopers than cutting a hole in the wall with automatic weapons fire."

She looks at Knocker, "Next time I'll show you how to set up the sim, since sims and our combat HUD will be your responsibility going forward. So, how'd we do?"

Yi nods and prepares to leave the helicopter. She grabs her small pack and checks the placement of her concealed weapons. She feels the tension rise in her slightly, this was her favorite part of the work - the unknown and the possibility of violence.

"Well, it went right, but tis' t'problem with sims, the knowin t'fights comin right enough."

"It's bloody harder when yer a walkin' dooon t'street seeking a brew and some wogs jump ye f'r damned all."

"Sooo what's the strategic plan once we get to t' LZ?"

The landing was picture perfect, the heavy cargo 'copter only bouncing skyward once as the wheels touched the rough packed air strip.

By the time the dust from the blades were settled, the ramp down out of the back of the helicopter was crunching into the dirt.

Over the next 30 minutes or so, a small knot of obvious native collects a few hundred yards away from the Dragon and the gear being unloaded. A least a dozen of the two-score people are sporting some sort of automatic rifle. A small cluster, half a dozen people or so, move forward in a somewhat decisive manner towards the vehicle, hesitant despite the rifles gripped firmly in their hands, still pointed for the moment at the dirt.

One of the six calls out as he stops a hundred paces or so away from the gleaming metal intrusion into the landscape, the odd curt and clicking syllables of a native tongue mixed with the smoother elements of French rolling over the landscape towards the group, carried by the constant winds that move across the arid land.

Knocker slaved her iBall to Charlotte, the little sphere rolled after the troll, it's sensor feed piped to the team's network. Right out of the box the blimp drone, a beat up restored Malaysian knockoff based on the classic Renraku Stormcloud started on it's way to gain altitude. Feet in a relaxed stance the dwarf firmly put her helmet on and started cycling through everyone's assignments and designating targets. At her feet she leaves the old HMG.

<<Cirio keep her warm and ready, and if yer would manage the drones f'r the sensor net t'at would be appreciated. Yi yer wit' Charlotte, everyone else run a full perimeter scan, t'en we split vectors based on what we find oot there in the damned Wogland.

Concentrate on yer job, t's m'job to handle c'ordination, but y'll be able to see all the data, but dinna let the pretty pictures keep yer from getting us kil't.>>

In her helmet ARO HUD she pulled up the standard wireframe battlefield display and started matching sensor feeds to the iconography, concentrating on matching her teams known weapon ranges to the array of targets.

"Jeff, I'll go high, you take the low road."

Mickey leaves the straps on as he exhales and feels every cell in his body scream out in panic and die. A shiver goes down his astral spine as he projects out of his body. Standing within the metal monstrosity, dead and unfeeling, makes the rest of the occupants seem that much brighter by comparison.

He passes a hand up Knocker's spine in an arrow and thrusts himself up. Once clear of the mostrosity, the Russian gets his first tast of the desert around him. Some deserts taste of sand and fire, others of dry winds across scattered dunes. Each taste gave the world character, and left an indelible mark on his psyche.

The landscape lives, brilliant streams of mana-fed life glowing all around you. Even the dry, arid ground, barren of everything but tough, stringy grasses, teems with life.

Hovering protectively over the collection of natives is a large entity, visible only in the astral. It's eyes glow from a body that seems to be made of a whirling collection of wind, dust, and various debris from the landscape.

Surveying the area quickly, Mickey takes in the lush environment, ripe with mana a verdant oasis beneath the surface.

Fuck me...

The words resound within his head as the spirit of the land watches over it's flock. He drops back to his body, each limb tingling back to life and takes a conscious effort not to gasp for breath.

<@TeamLeader [SmartAssMage] Play friendly with the locals, they've got Mama Earth on their side in aces.>

In the cargo bay of the helicopter, Cirio reaches out with his mind to activate the electronic locks holding the drones in their cases. He begins warming them up, try to keep the sounds from becoming too suspicious.

Yi moves herself to just behind and to the right of her assignment and copies Charlotte's pace if and when she begins to move.

<< Any idea if it's summoned or a free spirit? What kind of spirit is it and what powers might it have? >>

She begins to access the scanners built into the security tags in her mask and sweeps over the corwds trying to see what mundane threats might be present.

t'would be a bloody piece of dirt

<<Right, Mikey you'll be tasked w'it finding that damned heathen wog witch, I'll be alt'nating twixt Charlotte and the quadrant of the perimeter beyond. Cirio y'll be spread a bit t'in, but there should be enough eyes.>>

Short legs splayed and braced against the tripod base, Knocker leaned into the shoulder pads on the Ultimax and cycled through her weapons checks, the items flipping through her ARO in a strangely familiar yet new experience as the software guided her movements.

The view beyond the chopper, a background of sands against a clear blue sky is cluttered with a large array of pulsing iconographic arrays and range and motion data.

"I d'inna ken why this highland lass is stoock as a grooond poonder given how "mama eart'" hates her so...."

Knocker hums as she readies herself.

<<That's Mickey like the synth-rat not Mikey the tridstar who eats anything.>>

Ripping off the straps and dropping out of the seat, Mickey grabs his satchel and sits below the Ultimax. Now would definitely not be the time for that damn fool dwarf to start firing, I'm fairly attached to my ability to hear. Of course, I'm not going to actually stand in front of the gun, no end of the lecturing I'd receive for that one.

With the satchel strap situated across his chest and the triangular pack hugging the curves of his back, the Russian lowers himself from the Dragon's heart and into the maw of the desert. He scans the area looking for shamanistic markings on any of the assembled masses, totemic or otherwise.

Charlotte gets out of the transport and stretches her back, kneading the muscles there. She squints at the sky and squints at the locals, particularly the man coming forward and speaking. Her Bambara isn't great, she's far from fluent, but she ventures forward, weapons stowed, to hear what he has to say.

Continuing to scan the crowd, Mickey circles the helicopter. As he reaches the far side he pulls up the sensor feed coming off of the team's network. He circles the face of the man with the extensive necklace.

<<Set Primary Magic to this figure. Depending on his relationship, the spirit should leave as soon as he is dealt with.>>

Watching the streaming sensor feeds, Yi quickly routes the data to the other team members through Cirio's network, hoping the rigger can use the information to select priority targets.

<< I have a head count of 35 people now, 13 of them with automatic weapons, mostly AK-97's. 8 of them appear to have grenades hanging from belts or bandoliers. I have no comm traffic except us. >>

"O'er t' hills and o'er the main
Tru' Flanders, Portugal and Spain.
King George c'mmands and we obey
Over the hills and far away. "

<<35 Check. 13 Check. 8 verifying. EM silence check. Primary Magic, assigning.>>

"T're's forty shillings on t' drum
To those who volunteer to come,
To 'list and fight t' foe today
O'er the Hills and far away. "

Knocker cycles through ARO icons and checks the updates in beat with her singing. Barrel depressed the ultramax swings through the quarter in front of her on random intervals.

Inwardly, Cirio curses. Grenades and the complex and delicate electronics and machinery required to make a helicopter fly were not a good mix.

Charlotte adds to the team comms. <<[CVF:] Earth Spirit. Very powerful, watching over these people and the land. Not currently hostile. >>

She smiles down at the man listening carefully to his tone and cadence, trying to follow the mix of French and Bambara. She responds in Bambara with a greeting, "I ni tile," she speaks the words carefully, it is a difficult tonal language.

She continues gamely, "We fools come like the other fools before us seeking what does not exist or cannot be found. Is there a griot among you?"

The small group standing out in the lead actually chuckles at her statement, making a few gestures among themselves.

The leader waves backwards to the group to quiet them, and looks forward again suspiciously.

"Fools you are but you speak our tongue and ask for our magic man. What're you wanting here in the land of the gentle winds?"

"First, I'd like to meet your griot, if I may. We are very interested in legends of the past glories of Mali." She grins, hoping her turn of phrase and intonation are properly laded with the dry, ironic sense of humor often appreciated by subsistence-level village folk, "After learning of its current glories, of course."

She looks back at the others, "And that lot might be perfectly happy to sleep out here under the stars, but I'd like to find some lodging."

She moves a hand to scratch at her right ribs, coincidentally right where the bullet went in. Her light jacket pulls back for a brief moment, un-coincidentally allowing the man a glimpse at a row of slim unmarked credsticks. If he saw the gun behind the credsticks, that was probably just as well too.

The gesture doesn't seem to slip by the "leader", and he turns back to his group for a brief and impassioned whispered conversation. They seem to be at some stalemate in the conversation until the man with the more elaborate necklace steps forward.

A series of small dots ring his eyes, probably tattoo's or scarification. He holds his rifle loosely but comfortably.

"We will speak, but we warn you...the spirits of the land protect us and our village. Any violence towards us, and the spirits wrath will be terrible and final."

He motions to the group to follow him and turns, apparently unconcerned about the group of men struck silent for a moment and now shouting, speaking rapidly and making gestures but following the man as well.

The assembled mob seems to drift slowly after the griot as well, and you are unmolested except for the occasional backward glance.

<<Looks like our perimeter got a mite larger. We have visuals on where t'ere leading our lamb to the slaughter?>>

With a short burst of concentration Knocker focused on the ARO overlay map.

<< No idea, Cirio can we get a visual sweep of the direction we're heading in? If not, is it possible for someone to astrally project and check it out? >>

Yi tries to remember if their new rigger had deployed or even brought flight capable drones.

Charlotte's eyes move deliberately to where she saw the spirit lurking protectively over the gathering. She looks back at the man who is, presumably, the griot. She nods, "Yes, you are blessed to have such a guardian. We will come, ti ni cé."

<< Some of you need to stay with the Dragon. Who's gonna be my shepherd? >>

Charlotte patches the feed from her glasses and earbuds into the team network so that they will be able to watch and listen in as well.

<<'less you ooop t' t'reat assessment on the wogs, Yi is wit' you Charlotte, rest of will yoos t' dragon f'r transport. Put's t' reaction time up, but gives us t' best flexibility.>>

Knocker stood up, hoisting the ultramax onto her hip, and stepped over to the dragon's cabin door.

Bang bang! the cyberarm rang against the door frame.

"Get t'ose blooooody droones up and ahead!"

Cirio doesn't respond, as his concentration is momentarily absorbed in unhooking Sisi's air skirt from the crate it's stored it.

The whine of Roto-Drones emerges from the waves of dust and sound of the Dragon as the three sky camoflaged drones make their way out and above the crowd.

Cirio remains in the cockpit, keeping the Dragon ready for immediate lift off. Idly, he scans for networks other than his own.

To Charlotte: Suppression and minor fire support, online. If you want long-term surveillance, I can arrange it. If you want more firepower, I'll need a minute to deploy.

To Team: No networks that I can detect online.

The village is almost cliched, frail looking ramshackle wooden houses sprawled over an area not larger then a Blitzball field. The air is dry and still, and the light glints briefly from behind distant mountains before sinking below the horizon.

You find yourself sitting cross-legged in front of a low fire, facing the leader of the group of men and the man with the necklace. The leader motions for you to start talking, skepticism obvious already.

Cirio remains with the Dragon, the engines warmed up and ready for immediate evac. With the sudden tropical disappearance of the sun, he switches all sensors to IR, maintaining frequent visual sweeps around the area.

With a final nod to Yi and Charlotte, Mickey climbs back inside the Dragon. After securing himself into the seat, the mage looks to his Dragonslayer companion.

"Jeff, I'm thinking that one of us should probably be over there to watch from the astral. You'd probably be the better choice, in case that spirit gets a little uppity, but I'll go if you'd rather.

"Knocker, Cirio, are we planning on moving this bird at all? That would play havoc with one of us in overwatch..."

The dwarven woman grinned as she responded, "If ya' kinna nae' find this hunk of machinery whilst flitting around like some b'wildered fairy, then y'r gonna need a lot more help t'en we kinna give."

Knocker thumped the floor with her arm as she swiveled the ultramax through it's arc and checked it's elevation and ranges for targeting through the open door she was strapped down in front of.

"Jes look fer me guiding arm, has more metal in it then anything for a few hundred miles, 'sides Cirio head."

Cirio smiles wryly, and says in his cultured Galician accent: "If we've got to move the Dragon, I think you'll be the first to know why."

Charlotte follows the griot quietly, watching the villagers' reactions to the strangers coming amongst them. The two women, a tall, lightly armored troll and her porcelain-masked shadow... unusual guests, she hoped.

She ducked into the hut of the leader and remained stooped so that her horns didn't snag any of the thatching. Folding herself comfortably into a seated position she faced the leader while Yi and the griot took up similar 'flanking' positions. For very different reasons. Or... Charlotte's eyes flicked to the griot and the clearly shamanic necklace... perhaps for very similar reasons.

From the moment her knees unlocked to drop her into a seated position, Charlotte's senses shifted to astral observation of her hosts, from the corner of her mind she noted Jeff's reassuring aura. Still watching their auras, Charlotte schools her face to seriousness.

"I have a question for you first. What do you know of Yosandra?"

"Mid smoke and fire and shot and shell,
And to t' very walls o' hell,
But we shall stand and we shall stay
Over t' hills and far away

<<What's our approach vector on a dust and drop? I think t' dragons ginna have to flatten 'bout 3 huts to get in.>>

"T'ough I may travel far from Spain
A part o' me shall still remain,
And you are with me night and day
O'er t' hills and far away."

There was a nod of understanding from Jeff seconds before Mickey watched his friend's body go limp and astral form move away. The Russian leans forward to help shift the other mage into a more comfortable position.

A few seconds in a bad spot can be hours of discomfort later from a pinched nerve.

That being done, Mickey sits up straight and tightens the straps that had been loosened to allow him to move.

<<Jeff is en route.>>

Yi sits near the opening of the hut, hopefully to get a warning of aomething going wrong outside especially considering the last meeting they had.

<< I'm covering the only exit/entrance I see but this thing doesn't seem terribly solid so any wall can be made into a exit. Is there a direction I should use if we need to leave quickly? >>

In the astral, Jeff's form seems to be eyeing the huge spirit currently filling the astral space in the hut. He gives Charlotte a quick nod as she notices him.

In the hut, both the leader, the awakened one, and the rest of the villages nearby hiss, spit, and make several signs with their hands at the name of Yolandra.

"That snake is not welcome here. What do you want with her?"

<< They're properly disposed to Yolandra. Checklist item one, satisfactory. >>

Charlotte's inner eye focuses hard, searching hard for a figure in 'sight' who isn't making gestures warding off Yolandra or isn't whole-heartedly doing so. Charlotte makes a warding sign of her own, buying some time to observe the other villagers.

Cirio settles in for a long wait as Charlotte and the others begin their negotiations. He monitors a steady stream of data in his mind (or was it soul?), almost hoping for some kind of transmission. Being this far from the active, living Matrix made his head hurt.

As the hut seems to react poorly, the gentleman with the more ornate necklaces makes several complicated gestures and rattles a number of small, hand held fetishes taht he seems to have produced from nowhere.

After a few long moments the level of tension in the small hut drops, leaving the visitors feeling much relieved in the silence.

"We'll have no more of da' business with Snake. If you be seeking the same things that she were, we've none of it and don't know where it is."

The terse conversation in Bambara continues for several moments, Charlotte making placating motions with her hands, always smiling, keeping her hands low and in sight. The chief, on the other hand, seems to grow ever more and more agitated, before finally giving a shout and throwing his hands up in the air and looking away. He refused to answer any of the tall troll's entreaties for several minutes before looking back.

His response, when given, seems almost reluctant, but Charlotte sighs in relief, motioning via AR as she transmits her best translations on the chief's directions.

The chief seems more amicable after that, showing the group outside and arranging for food and water to be brought. The food is simple, but meat, bread, and a coarse yellow root prepared in small cakes turns out to be actually filling and substantial, if not gourmet.

Charlotte finds a moment alone with the group to pass on the information she gained. Pointing to a spot on an AR displayed map and transmitting voice back to the helicopter, she whispers.

"So, the chief said that the ruins of the original city, sacked by Europeans sometime before the slave trade started up, is located here, closer to the bend in the river and some way north, about 15 miles, less then a full days walk. He says he and the villages don't go near there, something about the area seems to draw the spirits and monsters of the land.

He says Yolandra was here, and promised his village enough food for a year and more weapons if they would provide guides. That was several days ago, and the promised food and weapons have not arrived, and the guides haven't returned, despite the small distances. He says that the village wise man was warned by their protective spirits after the woman left that she was Snake, and that the guides would never return."