"Affirmative. Let's have a look at the truck first. Afterwards, I will look for a nice hiding place to hide and wait for your confirmation to open fire, unless it becomes necessary, of course. Might take a short astral sweep, too, once I am in position. If we can save the hummer, sure, go for it, but it is not very high on the priority list right now."

After a short moment of contemplation, Tatjana adds:

"I will take a quick look outside, to see where this other ship is now."

Then she sits down near one of the cars and her body relaxes as her mind gets projected into the astral. From there, she goes up through the ceiling and takes a quick look to better assess their situation before heading back to the others.

When she comes back, Tatjana's pulse is racing. Obviously the short visit, which only took a few seconds, unsettled her quite a bit.

After a moment she says: "I don't know, whether taking that ship over sounds like such a good idea after all..."

Then she describes roughly what she has seen.

Crispy looks up from his interrogation. If you have another idea, I'm all ears. But I really don't want to have to swim to shore...


He looks back down at his captive. you want to live omae? tell me, how many on that boat? how are they armed? who's in charge of your group?

Crispy looks back down at his captive. you want to live omae? tell me, how many on that boat? how are they armed? who's in charge of your group?

The ork takes no time in replying
"The crew and a team of six runners, I selected the guys on this boat so they'll think you're with me
but I dunno what they have over there, they're a different team !
.. you can have my share .. man just don't kill me !"

the radio continues
<< get someone down to the hold will ya, Drago's probably got his guys killing bugs, we need that door open >>
in answer
<< Yeah I scan, I'll get someone onto the manual controls, the Skipper here, had an accident with the controls .. shame >>

How many you got on this boat here? They'll know we're not with you

<<Team{Crispy} : Sounds like we're going to have company. Nova can you scout this ship and see where the remaining bad guys might be, see if they're on their way here?>>

"there was eight of us in the guard column, I just paid them off to not get in the way .. then the civvies are my real team.... get me outta this fraggin thing will ya?"

Crispy really shakes the guy now, spittle flying from his mouth as he screams in Drago's face I'll let you out when I'm good and fragging ready you maggot! What's in the truck that's so valuable? Maybe I should let those fraggin spiders have you, you want that? You better start interesting me in letting you live!

"was it you that bombed this ship? If not who did? What are your goals. Spill it and trust me, you don't want to lie to us." Longshot shoves the barrel of his pistol into the guys mouth while saying this only taking it out when it seems he is willing to divulge all he knows.

"Oh man. Keep those freaks away from me man... I fraggin hate spiders! Look... I'm just lookin for some extra creds to buy my family off this rock. Vashon OWN us man! ... they fraggin own us."

He breaks down at this point sobbing as if he knows the end is coming.

The rattling sound of booted feet on steel stairs and a jaunty whistled tune drag your attention away.

"Hey drago you sum bitch, what the hell we doin here? Scratchin our asses"

The guy rounds the corner and approaches the rear of the truck pulling the tab on a synth arette.

"Your bitches sort out the truck ready yet or what man? We gotta split before this baby gets scuttled."

Hearing the boots on the stairs longshot pats Drago and leans down to whispers in his ear as he picks him up "easy there mate, they're just some gel round, but remember, I have a rifle, now, lets see just how useful you can be to us and maybe we can all get out ok, hell, you do a good job we may even see about helping you family out. Now, make them think we are your guys, tell me who hired who, quietly ya hear? Now I can be nice, but you gotta give me more information than this buddy. Remember if something goes wrong, your the first one on the list at the moment." He then dusts the guy off and asks "you okay man?" then glances at crispy
*comon buddy, go with it please, God I hope this works. My ribs feel like there is a 50lb weight on them.*

<<Team{Crispy} : Alright, I'm following your lead Longshot.>>

The happy little tune he is whistling continues to echo around the room for a moment after he is stopped in his tracks.

with eyes wide he raises his rifle and shouts over towards you "What the holy ... what's goin' on? is who's the stiff ?"

he takes a step closer, peering hard as if gazing at something far far away and trying to make out some details, until the concealment breaks and he finally sees Longshot and Crispy
Holding up the cocooned form of Drago between them with one stood behind the other covering with a weapon.
"Is ... is he still alive in there?"

He is assuming that you guys are attempting to cut him free but doesn't seem to know who it is you are getting, it might be the lawman he spotted earlier from a distance, wasn't really paying attention.

"Just hold it.. where's Drago? .. start talkin or I'm shootin'!"

Tatjana takes up position behind one of the cars a bit away from the stairs, hiding behind it with her Ruthenium suit active in addition to the spirit's concealing powers. Nonetheless, the sniper also uses her training to make herself hard to see.

As the civilian runners come down the stairs and start talking, she puts her rifle, which is coated in Ruthenium Polymer the same way as her armor, on top of the car and starts aiming.

"Thank god you're here - we've gotta get off this ship! This poor slotter IS Drago, barely alive after those spiders got to him. We were lucky and were able to fight those little fraggers off. He was supposed to open the bow doors, but...well, look at him now. How the frag are we gonna get out of here!?!?!

"SLOT! I ummm ... drek I dunno .. the boss ain't gonna like this... can we get that door open ? We need to ditch this joint "
he looks panicked now, not sure of making a decision without his boss or other team members present and he does not seem to have a radio with him
"Aww Slot, I knew this job was gonna go to Hell ! .... there's a manual override over there ain't there ? let's have a look "
it seems as though he really hasn't taken in that you are not the guard team, so far, so good... but then he looks around nervously

"I hope them freakin' bugs have gone for now .. you've not seen th.... HEY! ... who the hell is that up there ? ... "
he points his SMG to the ceiling at the cocoons swaying with the motion of the ship

"its okay, take a breath and help me get this stuff off him." a small pause longshot lets out a sigh and shakes his head slowly. Those are those unfortunate people crew, guards, civilian, team members, that weren't able to last until we scared of those bugs. I, I don't think any of them made it. It's ok I know how to deal with them though, right drago! He gives the man a pat on the back as he still tries to get him free. Now stop thinking to much, its bad in situations like this. Come help me get him out then we can see about getting that door open and getting the hell off this hell boat." Longshot puts up his best effort to show comradeship. * man I hope the situation has this man rattled enough to keep him from thinking to much, or to fast.*

<<Team {Crispy} : Longshot, you're "Joe". I think it's a good idea to keep Drago on ice as long as possible, and keep others away from him so he can't blow our cover.>>

We've got to get those doors open! Joe, you keep working on getting Drago free. This new guy and I will get those doors open. They're over there you say? Let's get crackin. Crispy tries leading the guard in the direction indicated for the manual controls using verbal cues and body-language. So what's your name? Drago never gave us details on everyone involved, said it was for our own good...

"The names Franco!" he replies and steps forward with you toward the bow of the ship..
his demeanour is still tense but he sounds a lot happier now he has an objective and that there's no bugs around

"Should never have taken this job man, I've been away from running for a year, got a nice place up Renton way, but that's gone to shit now"
He looks over at Crispy with an awkward glance then continues
"sorry man, I don' usually talk this much, just nerves ya scan,
this cash'll pay for the triplets when they get born ... imagine that right ! .. three screamin' kids ...
kinda makes a guy wanna stay out runnin' rather than go home ! know what I mean?"
He gives a nervous chuckle at his own dire circumstances and then you reach the door.

"Okay, the other ship should have the ramp ready for us, we can get these vehicles boarded or out of the way ready for the truck"
I got the wheel here,
I'll winch this bad boy open After you use your corp pass and unlock it over there"

He points to the maglock swipe and passcode mechanism to the right of the door
".... go man, go!" he urges Crispy to move quickly, wanting to get moving away from here before it finally gives way and begins to sink

______________________

Behind them as they walk away Longshot makes a show of removing the carapace from Drago not really making much progress.

The smoke has nearly completely cleared out of the gaping hole in the side of the ship and the lights of the city can be clearly seen, he lets his concentration wane for a second as he rests from the sawing action, taking a breath and looking around for the hidden form of Tatjana he thinks he sees her, but can't be sure, the TacNet has her position somewhere nearby, but ... "Was that movement?... Drek!"

looking up, into the darkness, their movement masked by the flickering light and flashes of arcing electricity from wiring torn apart in the explosion
the Spiders have returned and are moving in all directions into the room, surely they aren't intelligent enough to try flanking ? ... are they ?

on the floor, the radio chatter begins again, each sentence seems punctuated by the sounds of automatic gunfire from the floor above
<< @team [*****] : The Fraggers are moving,..... jeeeesus .. they got in here >>
/sounds of gunfire
<< @team [*****] : Crap, the boss is gone .. he's just ... gone... they dragged him into the fraggin air ducts ... FRAG ! >>
/sounds of gunfire
....
silence

<< @Team [Nova] You thi........t's comi.........he oth.....hip? Gu.......lf ba....alf go....ews... mo....iders, bu.......lus side, it wi........asier to take ........ver. Speak.......ad news... you see...........wling abo.....ll open fir.......less you ha....t..r..dea! 3 ... 2 ... >>

<< @Team {Crispy}: Sounds like it's coming from above, but it's a good bet that these fraggers can get aboard the other ship too. Defend yourselves, at all costs. I'll try to keep Franco entertained enough to get the doors open...>>

"come on man, it puts the pass in the mag-swipe, or it gets the hose again ! ... those fraggin' bugs are cooomiin maan ! ... move move move !"

Crispy stares blankly at the doors, glancing back and forth between the maglock swipe and passcode and back again. He's muttering under his breath the whole time frag frag frag frag frag frag. Much louder I don't have the fraggin passcode or the card!

Inspiration hits, and he holds up his finger in a "wait a moment" gesture to Franco then turns and sprints back to the group where Longshot is messing around with Drago. Drago, chummer, tell me you've got the passcode and maglock card to open those bow doors! Without waiting for a reply, Crispy is digging with his survival knife in the spidersilk cocoon, trying to gouge a hole where Drago's midsection would be.

Ripping away the toughened material from Drago's torso you frantically search for something resembling a security pass.

Crispy can feel the gaze of Franco boring between his shoulder blades in incredulity that one of the specialist security guards has either lost or forgotten his own security ID.
Cold sweat begins to form on his brow "it's not fraggin' heeere!" the panicked words escape in a mutter that only Drago can hear
He hoarsely whispers for Crispy to come closer so he can, presumably tell you the pass code ... Crispy leans in, still rummaging around his person..

A quick glance backwards reveals the Runner, Franco has taken a couple of steps towards you with his weapon raised to a 3/4 position, not quite taking aim but certainly ready to be lined up for a snap shot...

Then the words hit your ears, nothing more than a manic, hysterical whisper "FRAG YOU!" and Drago drops away into a fit of silent cackling in his cocoon, as he falls away Crispy's eyes catch something reflexively, the pass was on a band around Dragos neck, it snaps as he grabs at it and he holds it up triumphantly at the approaching Franco "BINGO!" he shouts then noticing the encroaching mass of arachnid terror he hushes and begins to move to the maglock.

_____________________________________________________________

Sunday 01:15:00 Helicopter, Vashon island

You've been along for the ride with black ops teams once or twice but operational theatre enjoys a bit more flexibility than your current situation, this is Seattle and your flying under the radar of one .. maybe two of the biggest aerospace organisations on the globe.

You imagine reaching out a hand and catching ripples of sea water and spray as you pass, the inky black waters are so close as to almost make it possible as the pilot skims the craft towards Vashon island.

The words of Sgt. Lupo ringing in your ears, "Find them, re-instate secure comms, get a sitrep and continue the mission!"
sounds simple at top level but significant questions arise as you dig into the detail .. or significantly .. LACK of details.

your attention is dragged back to reality as LEDs begin to flash and the urgent beeping of alarms sound around the cabin, the eery green glow of lowlight lamps making the crew look ghoulish as they stare blankly back at you, nothing jovial here, these guys are all business.

the Comm sounds in your ear
<< [pilot] : Okay fella, we''l be at the Ell Zee in thirty seconds, stow your crap and prepare for the drop, it's two metres to the ground, if you need a step... well you're Ess-Oh-Ell ! ... your contact will be waiting, callsign Hobo on open comms, he'll take you from there, good luck, and in 3 ... 2.....1 ....... Go go go >>

The doors slide away and the downdraft of the rotor blasts you square in the face, the grassy ground below barely visible in the green glow as besides you two gunners cover the surrounding area,
There's no burst of fire, and it looks clear, the hand on your shoulder holding you back releases it's grip and you take a breath, physical activity not really what you signed up for, but you know that hand is waiting there to assist in your descent .. and not in the kind and gentle way.

alright alright ALRIGHT! We are lea-ving! is shouted triumphantly as Crispy runs back to the maglock and swipes the card with authority.

Stitch leaps from the helo, hat in hand and sensors running in overdrive looking for available cover and possible hostiles. As soon as immediate cover can be found, he takes off in a crouching sprint in six second bursts until he is under cover.


Ravage , I need you high over head buddy, paint me a picture. Lexi, fill in the map, I need to know what trons are out there and please find me my contact, we need to link up five minutes ago.

The sharp buzz from the maglock has a definite negative tone to it. That, coupled with the big glowing red light on the side (not to mention the doors not opening), leads Crispy to intuit that something didn't go quite right. A look of pure panic crosses his face as he glances over his shoulder at the advancing shadow-horde of giant paranormal carnivorous spiders. He feverishly swipes again, and again, and again...

Franco's look of concern grows at Crispy, but he is franticly looking at the arachnid mass as it roils into the gap in the hull, tapping and squeeling in high pitch tones.

"come on, come oooon!" the pass is swiped again and the number pad is bashed and random number sequences enterred to no avail.

Crispy tries to brush away spider goop residue in case it has tarnished the mag-stripe and then looks a bit closer .. "No? .. he ... he wouldn't be THAT stoopid ?.... would he?"

the pass key photo is underlined with name and D.O.B ... in numerical form .. he quickly swipes the card again and punches in the date.

The groan of mechanical parts and hydraulic pistons moving shocks him and he steps back to watch as the massive door swings upwards to open the hold to the elements.

the floor beneath him begins to extend forward out into the night, stretching slowly out over the waters,
his gaze follows it until it reaches the limit of it's extension and an ominous CLANG that reverbs off the water indicates it has met with a similar structure from the ship he is staring into the gaping mouth of.

The ramp forms a bridge between the two vessels, on the opposite side a welcome sight greets them.

"Get moving Chummers, get those vehicles over here PRONTO !"
the armored guy wanders across the ramp backed up by two cohorts. he begins by lighting the barrel of the weapon he is carrying with a cigar and walking past Crispy and Franco begins to spray gouts of flame onto the masses on the walls and ceiling
"You standing there all day street meat ? .. MOVE!!"
he bellows at you all to get clearing the vehicles across to the other vessel.

The vast relief Crispy feels when the doors begin their opening dance is overshadowed only by the feeling of seeing the armored guy with the..is that a flamethrower? And the results! Oh the beautiful results. Crispy allows himself a moment to stare in wonder, before being jolted out of his reverie by the shouted command. The lingering feeling of greed mingled with desire floats through his mind, the image of the beautiful flower of flame burned in his retinas.

And move he does. Sprinting back across the deck, he scoops up the chattering radio and joins back up with Longshot and Drago. Nova is nowhere to be seen, but he figures that's her thing anyway. Mind racing at a million miles an hour, he looks from the cocooned-form of Drago to the semi, to the ZERG-mobile, and back again.

<<@Team {Crispy} : How about this for a new plan? I'll take the semi with Drago, Longshot you and Nova take the humvee. Drive those bad boys onto the other boat, then we begin infiltrating and acquiring command of that vessel from there. Any takers?>>

1 ...

Tatjana takes her right hand from the rifle's trigger and forms a "pistol" with it, mimicing a firing pistol towards the spidery mass at the ceiling. Of course, noone can see her, so it is kinda moot as a gesture. Then she grabs her rifle and heads back towards their hummer.

<< [Nova] O...W >>

The hummer crunches and screams with the torture of Nova pulling away fom the other vehicle it had collapsed against .

If it wasnt for the blacked out windows and the fact they were busy with the spider killing, the runners would have thought it strange the vehicle drove itself onto the ramps.

Crispy moves past it, wandering past he crush of broken vehicles, but someone is ahead of him...

Longshot moves to the back of the truck, the stench of burnt flesh filtered by his mask but still manages to make him want to retch.

Peering inside through the burst open door, it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, before he sees it.....

Eyes wide, a scream catches in his throat, his hands fumble for the comm, as he tries to tear his eyes away.
Praying that he comm works outside of the shortest range.

The drone rockets up towards the stratosphere, killing all the LED's and beeps it usually has active for programmign and diagnsotics, running dark.
<< @Master [Ravage] : Command Acknowledged, Scanning commences... Geometric data compiling ...requesting permission to overlay data onto Tactical Network.. acknowledged... data transmitting ... performing overwatch>>


<< @Master [Lexi] : Hai, Sensei .. data navigation commence, Tac-Net feed is live, position 00.73 kilometres East of nearest settlement [BURTON] port town and tourist attraction, population: 10,477. Contact located [Misutā HOBO] domicile on east perimter of [Burton] data feed updated with most secure path to destination... do you require further services ? >>

Longshot stood in the spot for what seemed like days. He couldn't even think. It was like he was in a different world, one filled with sticky strands, eight legged freaks, and things much worse. The door slamming shut startled him enough to snap him out of the trance, He was just glad noone could see his face, though was sure someone had saw his posture slip. To team: ...they have some freaky drek even I haven't dealt with before on that thing. I don't like this, these new guys give me the creeps. be careful. over n out> trying to settle he reverts back to communication drills.

Receiving Longshot's message, Crispy paused as he climbed up to the cab of the semi. After what they'd just seen (giant paranormal carnivorous spiders), the idea that there was even more "freaky drek" in store gave him chills. Freaky drek that was apparently in the trailer of the truck he was going to get in and drive. They...they couldn't get out of the trailer, could they? They're animals, how could they get out? Suddenly Crispy had second thoughts about his planned course of action. Frag the thought of trying to make an extra buck - he just wanted to get off of this ship alive, get back into the safe, healthy routine of shooting at and being shot by other metahumans. Simple, really. No giant paranormal carnivorous anything necessary.

Crispy climbed back down and started to walk back towards the rear of the trailer, pulling a can of barrier foam from his tactical utility pouch. He'd feel much safer if he could keep those trailer doors from being opened again by anything less than a welding torch. Unless those spiders had a thermite cutting bar. Crispy shuddered at the thought.

When he reached the back, he saw Longshot still standing there, seemingly stunned with a shocked look on his face. Crispy put a hand on his shoulder and shook him slightly. You ready to roll?

<< @Rafage Stitch: Thanx buddy, keep up the good work. Can you monitor the path to Misutā HOBO that Lexi has provided us and keep your eyes pealed for any potential hostiles.

<< @Lexi Stitch: Lexi, you are amazing as always. Keep scouting the perimeter, you are as always our first line of defense. Our success depends upon your success.

<< @Haven Stitch: I need to send a message to our contact Mr. HOBO, can you please make sure it is routed through quiet and secure channels.

HOBO this is STITCH I have boots on ground, do you want me to meet you at your location, or do you have another secure meetup in mind?

Running as silently as possible, Stitch puts his hat on his head , settles his pack on his back, straightens his poncho and begins to make my way towards Hobo, following the route laid out by Lexi.

<< @STITCH [HOBO] : Oh Bull Drek, they actually sent someone? slot, I thought this gig would just be backup ... uhh yeah, I'll get the vehicle and pick you up at the country club..
I've got an appointment there. 5 minutes ok! >>

The message does not fill you with confidence, you thought it'd be a war veteran DocWagon EMT who happens to be on ZERGs payroll or owe them a favour, not some yokel teen wannabe

the guy sounds young and inexperienced, you guess it's the best ZERG could do at short notice in such a secluded area, but still, not exactly what you were hoping for.

Setting off at a jog, you realise how long it's actually been since you physically exerted yourself, the air burns in your lungs forcing you to slow and ease the cramp in your abdomen,
it's not far to go, you jump a fence and your feet touch the perfectly mainained turf of a golf course, ahead in the distance the floodlights indicate you have found the clubhouse part of the country club, there seems to be a party in full swing.

<< @HOBO [STITCH]: I know it may have been short notice, but would it have been possible to pick someplace that I would be more conspicuous? Unless you're the blue fairy, I am not exactly dressed for the ball.

<< @Ravage [Stitch]: Hey buddy, can you find me a route around this party, preferably one with lots of cover and darkness.

<< @Lexi [Stitch]: What's the surveillance and security situation like up ahead. Also there are bound to be plenty of commlinks at that party, can you get me some intel.

<< @STITCH [HOBO] : Oh Slot! .. don't actually go IN there ! there's a maintenance shed near the main building, I'll pull up there >>


<< @Master [Ravage]: Affirmative, plotting course now, I have multiple life signs on tac-net, populating field of view now >>

<< @Sensei [Lexi]: Compiling inbound data from [Ravage] >>
<< @Sensei [Lexi]: multiple high level nodes in the area, security on these nodes indicates wealthy demographic, >>
<< @Sensei [Lexi]: Various licences are registered for fire-arms and Matrix security. >>
<< @Sensei [Lexi]: this does not prevent infiltration, initial scanning reveals function designation : Vashon Launch of winter range to executive board >>
<< @Sensei [Lexi]: Perimeter defenses minimal, full on assault renders a 99.87 % probability of termination, might I suggest stealth ? >>

<< @Master [Ravage]: {WARNING} : Matrix anomaly detected at grid 00456:23423 1 KM out to sea, signature suggests Matrix area denial device in use. >>

The Hot fetid air carries the aroma of toasted arachnid into Crispy's nostrils,
they flare angrily at the offensive smell and he is almost forced to put a hand to his mouth to stop himself breathing in the noxious fumes.

Longshot stands still, as if transfixed on the rear of the trailer, despite Crispy's attempts to gently coax him, he's seemingly in mild shock.
So Crispy moves away and leaves him to his thoughts "He can't get himself into any more trouble!" he mutters to himself as casually sprays a coating of barrier foam over the trailer doors,
Much to the approval of "Flamethrower guy" who nods at him and goes back to toasting corpses of twitching spiders, the hiss of overheated bodily fluids and the squeal & popping sounds as they cook doesn't seem to disturb him even slightly.

The other guards are watching the ceiling for movement but it seems eerily quiet at the minute, so Crispy takes the opportunity to examine the state of the large vehicle.

Getting into the gap between tractor and trailer is not something the foolhardy should undertake and he realises the risk, but has to do it
"Looks like the hydraulic systems all bent up and the brakes have locked in place..." He looks up for a moment and pauses trying to think if he said that out loud or he is hearing voices, those words he was about to utter himself.
"Sorry Chum, thought I'd save you the hassle, names Dorado' .. you reckon you can get it shifted ?" the voice in his head turns out to be one of the runners, walked up silently behind him and offering his expert opinion ... True, it might be the right opinion, but it gets right on Crispy's nerves none the less

"Spiders all gone to hell then ?" it's all he can do to keep a sneer from his voice as he spits the comment at the runner, in a 'You do your job while I fraggin' well do mine!' kinda fashion
The guy looks at him and raises his hands in appeasement "sorry pal, just want off this hell boat and back to my pad.. this job's makin' me nervous!"
he turns back to his watch on the ceiling leaving Crispy to fixing the hydraulics, the tools in the tractor tool-bin proving essential.

"Gotcha ya bastard!" he eventually mutters as he tightens up the hoses and steps back to examine his work, the brakes have released on the trailer and it should shift now.
HE leaps up into the cab and throws the ignition ON. rewarded with a rumble of the engine and the hiss of brakes releasing
__________________________

Nova settles into the driver seat of the Hummer and, having reversed the vehicle into a position facing the opposite ship she watches what's going on as best she can.
It's still dark and the flickering lights from torches and cars doesn't help her maintain her night eyes, but she keeps an overwatch on the movements in front of her, relatively secure on the boat that stands least chance of sinking.

the truck headlights burst into life and thankfully the windscreen of the hummer is polarized so she's not blinded, but the lights silhouette the form of one of the guards lifting and then carrying what can only be a cocoon.
"Drek!" the thought of who it could be and what may happen next fills her with anxiety,
especially as her colleagues are still on the Other boat! and comms have been pretty crappy the last few minutes.

She looks around, the vehicle hold over here is deserted, looks like the crew are all upstairs .. or worse.
__________________________
Longshot very nearly has a heart attack, as a tap on his shoulder brings him around almost as soon as his colleague leaves him staring at the doors and the after image of the ..thing.. in his minds eye.
"You don't look so good friend ! ..I'd stay away from the "Cargo" if I were you and worry about something else .. like maybe getting over to the other ship so we can move out ?"
the words should sound friendly and reassuring, but the guard talking makes it sound condescending and outright nasty, like he cares whether you live or die, just another paycheck.

<< @HOBO [STITCH] : Thanx, as much as I would like to jander through that exec party, I'd appreciate not getting geeked today.

QUOTE (Mach_Ten @ Aug 24 2013, 02:27 AM)

<< @Sensei [Lexi]: Perimeter defenses minimal, full on assault renders a 99.87 % probability of termination, might I suggest stealth ? >>

<< @Lexi [Stitch]: Lexi, as always your advice is most sage and timely, stealth it is. Anything I should be aware of around that shed?

QUOTE (Mach_Ten @ Aug 24 2013, 02:27 AM)

<< @Master [Ravage]: [color="#FF0000"]{WARNING} : Matrix anomaly detected at grid 00456:23423 1 KM out to sea, signature suggests Matrix area denial device in use. >>

<< @Ravage [Stitch]: Good job chummer, I think you just found our team of lost runners. Can you tell if it is a white noise generator or a jammer? Also, can you paint me a trail to that shed?

Crispy tried to edge the truck forward, and with a jerk the truck lurched wildly and then stalled. Dammit, he'd never learned to drive a rig like this. Not many opportunities to learn, where the merc was from. He restarted the engine and tried again, slowly engaging the throttle. The truck moved a bit, far enough to straighten out the trailer behind it. Crispy rolled the truck forward with a drek-eating grin until he saw the other cars blocking his way. Well, this was a big truck right? He decided to see if he could just batter his way through the tangle of vehicles.

Seeing Drago being hoisted by one of the other mercs drove a wedge of panic through Crispy's mind. He wasn't sure what Drago would tell the others, especially after the treatment he and Longshot had given him. He silently hoped the cocooned merc was in no shape to spill his guts. Crispy resolved to do that for him...personally.

Looking in at the exclusive invite only party, you get a sneak peek at life on the other side of the velvet rope, the sheer extravagance is mind boggling !

Every so often a black suited security agent takes a glance out of the bright windows, peering out into the night, but you can see the complacency .. they really don't expect any trouble, after all they OWN the island and it's population.

The Sprites guide you expertly to the garage, where the only danger is getting a healthy dose of Tetanus from the gardening tools and lawn mowers arrayed inside, hiding in the shadows you settle in and wait patiently.

it's not long before you spot a set of headlights flashing up the driveway, your Comm buzzes with an inbound message.

<< @ STITCH [HOBO] : pulling up now, you can't miss my ride .. other than being the only guy out here ... it's the big white medical truck .. gimme a hand unloading all this hooch will ya ? >>

Nova waits in the car, her rifle has been put back into the bag and dropped on the backseat. Before she moved the hummer over to the other ship, she dismissed her spirit, sending it away to its home, wherever that was.

While waiting, she ponders, whether she should summon another spirit, but for now things looked quiet enough. The biggest question at this point was, where the second ship was headed. They need to get to the island, and if the ship's destination wasn't matching up, and it wasn't exactly likely, they would have to make it change course.

But first, the team had to reunite, so they could begin with the planning...

Claro, where you want all this stuff hombre?

I'm gonna need to write a pilot program for this menial crap.

Inside the med bay, which is the full rear compartment of the hummer, the air conditioner is running overtime,
keeping cool several large wooden boxes with rope handles. They look and feel antiquated and the indisputable aroma of crushed mosto, fills your head making you feel slightly nauseous.

"Just gimme a hand into the kitchen, cheers man! Then we can get outta here, call me Joe by the way,"

Joe lifts one case by it's rope handles and struggles toward the clubhouse,
as one of the ancient frayed ropes disintegrates in his hand and he lunges to try and save it, but the tinkle of glass on glass says he narrowly avoided smashing a case full of what you gather is rather expensive vintage,

"Be mor fraggin' careful drek-head!". A gruff voice sounds from the doorway and a 'black suit' emerges, red faced and waving angrily at Joe,
under his jacket you spot flashes of cold iron as the holster jostles with his stride.

"Sorry, it weren't my fault... The handle see..." Joe stammers back, nervous as a teen at prom.
But the suit is already taking it gently away from him with ease due to his size and strength, before shouldering the kid out of his way roughly.

You eye up a case by your knees and gauge the strength of the ropes before hoisting it up by the edges of he box instead, it's the safer option
It feels heavier than you expected and you stumble, but manage to hold it, a silent thanks whispered t oa long forgotten friend.
the case is tipped momentarily, only ... it doesn't make a sound like glass inside.

The suit has vanished inside and Joe looks at you worried,
"Come on man, lets get going before he kills me!"

"I've always wanted to do this!" The drek-eating grin returns to Crispy's face for the first time since the excrement hit the turbine tonight.
"CHOO CHOOOOO MUTHA FRAGGERRRRRS!" he can't help himself, never could.

Longshot spots the movement too late, but to be honest, the last thing he wants is to be anywhere near that truck!
Two reasons, the first and main reason, Crispy is driving, that dude's nice, but maybe a few bullets short of full auto? the second is the nightmares.

It is a wise decision, the truck impacts the scrum of vehicles and sends them crashing against the hull, ploughing past and aiming for the ramp between ships.

the noise is phenomenal, but he still catches the chatter from the radio taken fom Drago
<< @runners [******]: sounds like you got there finally,
do a last sweep of that ship for witnesses, set the secondary charges and get over here,
deal with those idiots and Drago, i'm not paying that fragger again after his mess >>

This was just like a VR game that Crispy had played as a kid! Tonka Nitro Trucker was his favorite thing to do on a cold night, when the food was scarce and sleep wasn't an option. He had such fond memories of TNT, watching the multiple-view shots of the explosions caused as he launched this or that tractor-trailer off of a bride or a steep incline....

Snapping back to the here and now, the merc kept his foot on the gas pedal (yes, a real gas pedal - this thing was a throwback, to be sure) and his hands firmly on the wheel as he continued to push his way past the other (much smaller) vehicles. The truck slowly ground it's way towards the enemy ship's hatch, the shrieks of hot metal-on-metal action filling the air with a cacophony of sound.

Even with all of the noise, Crispy was able to catch the enemy's chatter on the radio swiped from Drago. His mouth tightened in resolve as he heard the plans. Well, it made sense. It was the kind of thing he would probably do, in their position. Just like he would do everything in his power to complete the mission and keep his team safe.

The jamming device frustrated him to no end - he needed to communicate with his teammates about the situation. Maybe once he reached the hold where Nova was, they could have a quick emergency powwow.

The screeching of tortured metal on metal sets Nova's teeth on edge and she searches for the window controls to close out the worst of it.

Suddenly thankful that she's in a relaxed state and not rushing as the sound of a radio squawk echos from to her left.

<< ........ and Drago, i'm not paying that fragger again after his mess... >>

Looking out into the barely lit ship hold, she sees a crouched figure near the staircase leading up to the next deck and slowly lowers herself in the seat, the blackened glass hopefully covering her position but still letting her catch the echoes of a conversation

"SLOT! .. thought we were radio fraggin' silent!?! ... did they make us ?

I can't see anythin' in the Hummer, must still be on the other ship... you check it out,

Damn right you get all the good jobs, now move..

I'll wait for the truck and take the driver, Boss says he's a douche, so should be easy to cozy up and slit his neck all quiet like !"

keeping low a shadow moves from the stairs and into the dark at the rear of the hold, trying to circle round to the rear of the vehicle

it passes underneath a massive tarp that you can easily make out as another truck shaped object, maybe a decoy for when they sink the other ship.

back at the stairs, the other party in the conversation steps out into the light and begins to wander nonchalantly, over to the boarding platform, where a truck is bearing down.

We will see about quiet soon enough... Tatjana thinks as she listens in on the one side of the conversation going on.

The decision to call another spirit was quite easy now, that there was no way to avoid combat on this vessel, anymore. Grabbing her rifle once more, she readies herself for the upcoming attack. But first, the spirit is summoned.

Once it appears in astral space, Tatjana orders it to wait until she has left the vehicle she is currently in, then materialize to protect and defend her (Concealment, Guard, Magical Guard and attacking those who attack her).

Looking at the one near the stairs, once she can see his weapon, Tatjana reaches out and casts a spell to telekinetically eject the magazine from it.

Then she opens the door on the Hummer and slips out, as quiet as possible.

"Hey Joe, it's really none of my business what you run on the side, just know if your side run sends this one sideways, it wont be very pleasant for you.

The headlights bobbing to and fro in his rearview mirror grabbed Crispy's attention for a tic. Just long enough for him to recognize Longshot's face in the driver's seat of a hummer. A hummer that was apparently doing it's best to crush the mercenaries up against other heavy solid objects. Crispy grinned and shook his head. That's the mark of a good team, he thought. We're all on the same page here. He just hoped that flamethrower would escape unscathed...

Bringing his eyes back forward, he saw the silhouette of another mercenary in the big rig's headlights. Standing in the ship doorway, the silhouette seemed to be trying to bring to bear a...a machine-gun? A fraggin' machinegun! Crispy's mouth set in a grim line as he pushed the pedal down harder. They'd see who was faster on the draw.