Joe looks up at you completely confused a "huh?" hanging from his open mouth.
You guess he's as devious or surreptitious as house brick,

"Just be careful with the booze man, okay, these guys pay my wages and I don wanna piss them off letting them know who you are !"

he returns and grabs another crate from the ambulance and begins to stagger towards the light coming from the open kitchen door

"Take that down to the cellar kid, and Don't drop it, that one's the good stuff!"
The gruff voice can only be the bouncer you saw earlier
"Where's the other fella with the crate ? ... he standing out there all night ? we got a party to get going!"

Stitch grabs the crate and hauls it quickly into the building and as indicated down a stone staircase into a musty cellar.

the darkness and dusty air is cloying and you find it hard to breath, only able to see a few feet thanks to the single LED lamp hanging from the ceiling.

dropping the crate it eventually gives up it's pretense of being a useful container, spilling it's contents onto the floor

"Holeee Fraaag maaan!" Joe sees and is slightly perturbed, "We gotta get out man ! ... I .. I had no idea but they ain't gonna like it one bit"

He moves to the bottom of the stairs but halts as booted feet can be heard above "Slot ... oh god I dun wanna die! man .. what we gonna dooo?"

behind you, there's a slight sound of movement followed by a whimper, as the hulking form of the guard blocks the light down the stairs from above

After seeing Longshot's great success at demolition derby in his rearview mirror, Crispy braces to feel the satisfying crunch of bones as he sideswipes one of the mercs. In such a big rig though, he hardly even notices the contact. The only way he knows for sure that the truck connected is the spray of blood along the windshield. That'll have opened things up. Douchebags!

In Crispy's glee, he barely notices the swaying of the two ships means that his target isn't always exactly straight ahead. He barely manages to get the truck back on-line before the next sway of the waves would've sent the truck careening into the side of the ship, meters from the intended exit point. With a muttered curse he drags on the wheel and brings the rig back to true, roaring onto the other vessel and then slamming on the brake. He can see Sarge's hummer ahead in the spacious cargo hold, but no immediate sign of Nova.

Not even pausing to turn the motor off, Crispy slams the truck to a stop, pockets the radio and shoulders his f'n scar as he heads out of the truck. He tries to do it stealthily, looking to acquire targets as quickly and quietly as possible.

Tatjana looks pleased. The pirates were down for now, at least the ones in their immediate vincinity. Surely, there were more of them on the ship, but they would deal with them later.

For now, she is concerned about the spiderwebs between the two boats, that Longshot had noticed. Those spiders were some nasty beasts, and having them over here as well... hopefully they didn't have them in the truck already.

Anyways, those webs have to go, otherwise the sinking ship might drag this one with it or whatever ... they couldn't be good.

She concentrates to summon a new spirit to her side. This time it's a fire spirit, that appears in astral space next to the mage.

Find the spiderwebs between the two boats and burn them down. All of them.

Afterwards, Tatjana moves through the room to find the two guys she shot down. She checks on them and removes any gear that might be useful for them and brings it to the hummer.

Sunday 01:35:00 Sinking ferry, Tacoma-2-Vashon

The hiss of the air brakes' pneumatic hoses venting excess pressure masks the bang of the truck door slamming as Crispy jumps down from the cab of the tractor.

Sniper rifle held low, Nova steps out of the shadows with a grin on her face, apparently She is pleased with her handi-work, taking out several opponents with minimal amount of fuss and ammunition.
She nods at Crispy, and he returns the look appreciative of her capacity for violence, but holds back the wolf whistle She's still holding a rifle that's bigger than a truck fer chrissakes !

Coming across the bridge between vessels, Longshot pulls up his stolen vehicle with a screech of rubber on steel plates as he applies the brakes with a foot assisted by hydraulic jacks, the brake pedal almost giving way under the immense pressure, he kills the engine and steps out to greet his colleagues.

Behind him, in full view of Crispy and Nova slender strands of cobweb flame and spark in the night air and they both stare right through him at the spectacle
"what ? ..... WHAT?" Longshot exclaims, before finally turning to see the sheer destruction that he drove under obliviously
"oh!" he mutters "Nice!"
The flame spirit dances in gouts of yellow and blue hot fire as it incinerates the strands and drives the paracritters back onto their vessel, hopefully cooking all of them.

Looking out of the bow doors the damage to the original ship is apparent, it's almost at a forty-five degree angle to the port side and water can be seen pooling inside the vehicle bay, vehicles skid and slide over adding more weight to the listing vessel predicament, it won't be too much longer before it completely vanishes into the abyssal depths.

the temporary bridge no longer passable, the flamethrower forever lost to Crispy. he sighs heavily.

not far away, seen around the edge of the ship the port lights of Vashon twinkle and an old style lighthouse swings it's beam of light out over the bay.

A sputtered cough from the left of the doorway draws their gaze away from the scene, holding onto a nearby railing an elderly, but burly and seaworn chap looks ready to collapse, the obvious blood stain spreading across his gut as he drops to one knee.
"Little help here!" he gasps, clutching at his abdomen.

Sunday 01:35:00 Somewhere on Vashon

<< @Sensei [Lexi]: Sir, inbound data from [Ravage] is awaiting your attention, shall I relay ? >>
the soft but firm voice drags Stitch away from his current predicament and dragging Joe toward the stairs he begins to pound up them back into the open air and towards the now empty ambulance
<< @Lexi [Stitch]: Go ahead Lexi, little busy here >>

Joe steps into the driver seat and despite the cold sweat and shaken nerves he manages to slam it into drive and accelerate away up the drive, the sounds of the party in full swing behind them quickly evaporates into the cool night air

<< @Master [Ravage]: Matrix anomaly is on the move, executing predictive algorithm... projected destination indicated on your AR Geo-data now. West side of Vashon island away from population centres. Awaiting command! >>

Stitch looks at the current time on his Comm, lamenting the loss of a chunk of it wasted hauling weaponry and illegal substances into a party for Vashon execs. but recognising the inherent danger in acting upon that he breathes a sigh of relief that he left at the most opportune time.

"Get us as close to this location as you can Joe !"
He pulls up an AR grid map of the island and indicates a dirt track heading west from the main road a few minutes from where they are currently.

Joe slams the accelerator and urges the van toward it's upper speed limit, it seems the vehicle restrictions over here are not based on Seattle greater, laws. Good, we need the speed! he thinks

"Crispy? Do you still have that medkit handy? I will cover you."

With that Tatjana kicks in the ruthenium sheet of her suit once more, to make herself hard to see, and slowly moves to a position from where she will have a good view on the scene (and hopefully some cover, if necessary).

Giving his comrades a slightly dirty look, Crispy shoulders his rifle and roots through the duffel bag at his feet, muttering under his breath the entire time. Those with enhanced hearing can almost make out words like "servant" and "master" and "yessir" and "giant fraggin' mutant carnivorous awakened spiders" and "apples". Finding what he was looking for, Crispy first glances at Nova to make sure she's really ready to cover him, then moves over to the old timer with the gut wound. He gives him a once over with the medkit's systems.

"Nasty, that. We're gonna have to work on it a bit. Here, lie down here. What happened, you catch a stray round? Ricochet?"

"The Fraggers gutted me like a fish man, I'm ... I'm gonna die ain't I?!"
He looks Crispy dead in the eyes and whispers harshly to him
"You get them for me, boy! ... ... they's holed up, on the Bridge, got some fella all bandaged up like a mummy up there too .... You kill 'em for what they did to my boat! ..... oooooh the pain .... I dun wanna die ... I'm too young to dieeee!"
Whether it's shock, blood-loss from the ragged wound across his stomach or just overacting, he falls into unconsciousness in Crispy's arms as the mini-autodoc finishes it's administrations and is packed away.

"He'll live!" Crispy mutters

"He'll live!" Crispy mutters. "He'd better, anyway. We still need someone who can pilot this tub." He begins dragging the old seadog to the humvee, laying him down in the back and trying to make him as comfortable as possible.

Putting the medkit away and unslinging his rifle, Crispy checks on his teammates. "You heard him? They're holed up on the bridge, got one weirdo all wrapped up in bandages. Maybe he won't like that fire demon you called, Nova. Any ideas on how we play this? I vote on Longshot and me storming the bridge, with Nova providing long range and magical support. Yeeehaw."

"It's a spirit, not a demon," Tatjana says.

"Alright, so let's finish this! Ready, if you are."

Crispy nods his head to what Nova says as he gives his f'n scar a thorough once over. Slide in good working order, check. Smartlink readouts, all in the green. The mag is full, check. Crispy pulls it out just to check, to make absolutely sure. Electronics could be on the fritz, you never know. Best to be totally sure. Finding the mag to his satisfaction, he slaps it back into position with a resounding crack and then gives his teammates a wicked grin. Let's steal us a ship!

The grin slips from the merc's face when he tries to pull up the tacnet data in his AR. It seems all is not right with the world yet. "Dammit! We can't move out yet, the fraggin' jammer's still active. Give me a few ticks to try to get it sorted." With a grumble, he sets the battle rifle down carefully, tears showing in his eyes. His mutterings have a definite whinge to them, as those with enhanced ears can distinguish what sounds like the complaints of a bratty 5-year old, "I just wanna shoot stuff" being at the top of the list of grievances.

Crispy sets to work to see what he can do to counteract the jamming.

"I've pinpointed the source of the jamming...but you're not going to like this. It's out in the open, exposed...looks a little like a trap. Ok, a LOT like a trap. I'm thinking, if we stay together, we won't need to worry about the jamming too much. Look, here we can head up this stairwell. It's not the least dangerous approach, but Nova, if you can ask your fire dem...your fire spirit to help clear the way for us there, we should have a straight path to the bridge and be in a much better position tactically."

The sound of gurgling water gives Crispy pause.

"This ship is set to go nowhere fast but the bottom of the river. Faulty door mechanisms are screwing us here. We've gotta move, and now. Anyone got any input?"

"The spirit is not very strong, it won't clear much for us. It's good, where it is, keeping those spiders from getting on this ship."

"What do you mean? The ship is sinking? If we won't reach the island with it, the only reason to take the bridge is to show these guys what we think about them... ok, that's a good enough reason for me, actually. So, let's go!"

"Is there any magic you have that can give us an edge? We're going to be in a bad position when we try to head up those stairs..."

"Yeah, give me a moment. I can check ahead and see what awaits us there. I can also make one of you invisible to sneak ahead."

"Ok. If we're voting on who gets to be invisible...I'd say it should be you. Let me and Longshot deal with sneaking through on our own after you've made it there. I'd rather have you situated somewhere with a good position so you can lay down cover with that sniper rifle of yours."

"I can see four on the bridge, one is at the wheel and one is behind him with a weapon in hand, probably threatening him to steer the boat. That one should be Drago, the guy with the bandages. Two more guard the doorway and stairs. Oh, and they all got assault rifles. There are two more hiding where you said the jammer would be. And there is a lot going on inside that truck's trailer. Must be a whole swarm of those spiders in there."

"Ok. This is starting to sound like something we might just survive. I'm thinking after you sneak past the two at the stairwell, find a secure spot and engage the hostiles on the bridge. Hopefully this distracts the two guarding the stairs, letting Longshot and me take them from behind then join you in engaging the bridge. Old guy I patched up said something about a "fella all bandaged up like a mummy up there". You see any sign of this weirdo? Was this the one at the wheel or the one with a weapon on him?"

Crispy pauses, thinking.

"Too bad you can't make all of us invisible..."

"I can try, but the more spells I keep going the weaker they get," Tatjana explains.

"I will try to find an alternate route outside and will give those on the bridge something to worry about, then you can take care of the stairs and hopefully the guys keeping guard there will be distracted enough to allow you a safe approach."

"Ok. If we can't use a tacnet during the engagement, we can still use our own personal tacmaps. Nova, if you would, mark on this schematic" Crispy sends out a rough schematic of the ship using AR "where the hostiles were when you reconned. Even if they've moved, it'll give us a better general idea where they are. Anything else I'm forgetting? Hammerson usually did all the fraggin' tactical stuff. Unless you have any input Longshot...let's move out!"

Sunday 01:40:00 Replica ferry, Tacoma-2-Vashon

#moving quickly up the stairs, Nova takes her time to be as quiet as possible despite the invisibility upon her.

The aura of tremendouse power resonantes from the astral space behind her reminding her of the spirits presence as she tiptoes into the main passenger deck.

the room is well lit but utterly unoccupied apart from several un-moving bodies on the floors, presumably crew members taken out to prevent witnesses.

To her front is the Trid-entertainment deck, a large enclosed and dark seated room for private trid viewings, like the old-time cinemas on a small ship sized scale,
somewhere in there is the jamming device, Crispy has it marked in AR for them

it springs to mind now as she tries to raise Crispy and Longshot on the comm but receives only static in reply
"Chyort voz'mi! .. This is Chush' sobach'ya " she curses under her breath and moves on.

Outside the warmth of the passenger rooms the night wind of the open waters catchers Nova by surprise but she grits her teeth and speeds up to get to the bow area and up in front of the Bridge.

Jumping up and catching hold of the ledge, she hoists herself up to be able to peer at the light spewing from the bridge windows,

Inside she can see the pilot being given directions by a large Orken meta, with a gun in his hand, resting on the shoulder of the old man in front of him,
there's no sign of the other 2 occupants she knows to be there, presumably crouched ready to engage anyone coming from the doorway behind them.

________________________

Crispy and Longshot count to the agreed number, without having to resort to removing gloves or socks and then set off as carefully as possible up the first flight of stairs

Crispy winces at every step and his mercenary accomplice heavy armour rings out loudly in front of him on the metal staircase
"Jeez, does that suit have a fraggin' stealth mode ? or a jet pack ?" he remarks sarcastically, then his mind wanders at the thought of cruising around the ship on a jetpack, firing indiscriminantly at alien spider monsters with his flamethrower

Stepping onto the passenger deck and rounding the corner of the bottom of the stairs leading up to the bridge, he reigns in wayward thoughts and gets his gameface on.

glancing around and up the stairs which are well lit, he can see the locking mechanism on the closed door at the top

"THIS my friend is a perfect kill zone, and we are firmly in it!" Longshot remarks at the terrible tactical position they are in.

but there are few other choices to be had.

<< @Hijackers [NOVA] : kzzzzrt ar....eady?.....le...et...thi....how ...the ...roa....d ! >>
the comm crackles to life in their ears, the message is completely garbled but they guess the intent Go Time!

Out of the darkness across the waters, the wind howls and batters at the ship as it plows ahead towards Vashon island.

Concentrating on the job at hand and maintaining her spells, Nova is taken by surprise by the lurching motion of the vessel she is levitating a few inches above,

The swell of the water is stronger out here than the relative calm of the bay and she curses her own judgement as the bow dips about ten feet below her and lurches wildly to the starboard leaving Nova flailing in mid air with nothing solid to get a hold onto to help keep her from flying out to sea.

Not wanting to give up the element of surprise she now has to decide very quickly if her own safety is worth jeopardising the mission by dropping to the deck or calling for a team mate in desperation.

Below her feet the inky black water roils and foams with the ships passing, it seems to absorb magical energy like light, her spells would be no protection if she dropped in there.... Time is now of the essence.

At the bottom of the stairs inside, Crispy and Longshot wait for the diversion to begin, unaware of the predicament their colleague faces.

As he waits for the diversion, Crispy's mind wanders back to previous jobs, better days. His eyes lose focus and start following dust motes, back and forth...back and forth. Dust motes that are doing a strangely...linear...dance. The merc snaps out of his reverie, his gaze now sharply focused on the ruby-red laser beam that materialized as if by magic in front of him. Holding his breath, Crispy followed the path of the beam with his head, noting it's boundaries and figuring levels of danger.

Some kind of alarm? Mine? He couldn't tell what was on the other end of the beam of light. Trying to to disarm the thing could be a disaster, especially in these conditions. But stepping over it on the way up the stairs...that seemed doable. Just had to make sure not to be too hasty on the way up. Satisfied that the trap can be bypassed by the duo, the merc taps Longshot on the shoulder and points to the laser tripwire.

Invisible and levitating, Nova takes off to find a non-protected route. However, the winds outside are howling stronger than she had thought.

Drifting off in the strong winds, and only barely able to stabilize her in the air, Nova calls out to the spirit realms to summon a spirit.

She floats above the waters, 15 meters from the side of the boat, before the spirit answers her prayers.

It emerges from the black waters like a leviathan of kelp and sea weed strands, it reaches up and grasps her, then drags her at speed towards its watery domain.
Asking for the services to bring her back to the ship safely it grudgingly obeys, but is unable to reach the decks of the ship.

Propelling Nova towards the open bow of the boat where it can reach to deposit her.

The water is flooding the deck and the vehicles slide dangerously about, The spirit drops her in about three feet of water close to the stairs.

The two trucks have collided and both lay stricken on their sides, the contents of one, spider eggs float around it ... The other dark and empty.

Some time has passed, so Nova decides it is necessary to give her two team-mates a heads-up. Since the comms are not working still, she will have to go herself.

Looking at the trucks, she decides, that she might need to do something about those as well, but first things first.

She looks for the hummer and gets inside, closing the doors behind her, to be safe for the time being. Then she slips into astral space and at the speed of thought moves to find Crispy and Longshot.

The water laps at the sill of the hummer door, environmental sealing has kept it out, until now, when Nova swings into the vehicle

Fortunately so far it's only a small pooling in the footwell, as the hummer is parked towards the rear of the hold where the waves haven't quite reached their peak.... but it's only a matter of time.

it is worrying the amount of water that is being taken on board the Ship though, that door jammed open is not designed for ocean travel, and not at the speed the captain is being forced to encourage the vessel to attain.

the huge forms of the Semi-trailers sloshing and sliding around, banging off the walls and each other is ominous in itself, not even considering the floating sacs of premature paracritter younglings, probably waiting to hatch.

Nova's ghostly form manifests near Crispy's location.

"Shhh... those comms still not working, so I let you know this way. Hit some trouble, but managed to get away. Still not in position, so give me a bit more time. When you will hear the shots from my rifle, it's time to go."

Then she vanishes again.

On her way back, Tatjana notices some astrally active spider webs, covering the doorway, which she had passed through, earlier. She needed to take a less obvious route back to her body.

Only the strict training, the years of experience in dangerous situations, the multitude of times that he'd seen shit that would turn you white keeps Crispy from jumping out of his skin when the ghostly form of Nova appears. He listens to her message and nods his head in acknowledgement. The plan was still a go. He resumed his waiting posture on the stairwell, passing the time by playing some vids on his goggles imagelink.

Swiftly returning down the hauntingly quiet corridors of the ship,

it's only a preternatural sense of paranoia that halts Nova in the Astral world before she enters the hold.
"Something is not right" She mutters to herself.

Moving closer to the doorway to the hold, she reduces her speed to a mortals walk that feels soo painfully slow here in the magic realms.

it becomes slowly apparent, a beautiful glistening sticky web covers the doorway and it looks like it extends further into the hold, surfaces sparkle in the light that reflects from the moons illumination, bright as day here in the astral.

Nova peers past the magical looking barrier into the room and once more thinks she spots a large hulking form, but it is impossibly quick and she losses it behind some mundane and lifeless object through which she cannot see.

"Drek! ... now how am I getting back to my body ?"

Sunday 01:00:00 Camp Duwamish, Seattle

The transport drops you on the wet tarmac of an airstrip north of SEA-TAC, it looks like private charter flights use this place out of the public eye. Stood casually on the barrier smoking a syntharette, is a military looking man with a slung weapon, he snaps the gun into a ready position as he sees you approach with all your gear slung in bags.

"YOU!... Stop right there, No admittance to civili.... Oh, you here for recruitment?"
The guy on the gate switches from all business to friendly banter in a blink.
"Seems we are getting a whole new batch of newbies every hour on the hour tonight, hope you make it .. Hammer's waiting in the hangar"
He indicates a building about three hundred yards from the street where you stand and raises the barrier to let you pass.

It doesn't take long to get there, the hangar doors, built for aircraft wingspans slide open and you are almost blinded by an arc welder as someone works away in the dark on some large craft.

As your eyes adjust again, you deftly step aside as a hummvee with a rigid inflatable boat on its trailer drives out past you.

"Gibbons?" a tanned elvish face emerges from the passenger side and addresses you, you catch sight of SGT stripes briefly. "Get in, you're just in time amigo!"
The rear door opens to admit you before speeding of westwards.

"Hope you learn fast chummer, we got 15 minutes to brief you and get you out to the insertion point" a gruff voice sounds from the seat next to you, the name badge says RICOH and the stripes say SGT.
"We got a team out in the bay and no comms, we've already sent one more team to try and establish a SIT-REP. But heard nothing back, so you're going in to get a handle on the situation the old fashion way."

Looking out onto the night skyline you see the dockyards flashing past.

"you need to find our team, reestablish comms and replace a lost team member, you are facing what we believe to be a Pro team of runners looking to hijack the ship and its cargo. They have already killed a number of civilians in escape rafts with rocket munitions according to our data, you and the team need to get back onto Vashon Island and be in position for the main objective within one hour, any questions?"

The hummer wheels crunch to a halt on gravel and personnel rush up to prep the RIB for ocean travel, it feels just like being back with the SEAL teams, only this time, who is paying the bills?

Halfway through LOLA and Crispy realized that he wasn't even watching. Too many possibilities were playing through his head about the upcoming unpleasantness. What was taking Nova so long? He glanced over at Longshot, who appeared to be napping or meditating or who knows what else. With a muffled sigh, Crispy searched about with his eyes for something to keep his mind busy, keep him from getting nervous before things started getting hot.

His gaze settled on the laser tripwire running across the stairs. With a mind that had always been drawn to puzzles and mechanical gizmos, Crispy was quickly absorbed in studying the device. Optical 2-phase laser emitter coupled with a standard-issue AP claymore, the trigger simply wired through the interior circuit created by the laser beam. Holding his breath, the merc reached into his tactical utility pouch and pulled out a tiny screwdriver. Just a twist here...a nudge there. After a few seconds of tinkering he had the trigger locked in the "safety" position. It wouldn't matter if the beam was disrupted or not, that thing wasn't going off until the safety was released. Admiring his handiwork for a moment, he briefly considered pocketing the mine now that it was safe. Never knew when having a claymore would come in handy...

Billy Gibbons : Sunday 01:00:00 Camp Duwamish, Seattle

The Humvee rapidly comes to a halt with Hammerson motioning for Billy to get in. He knows who I am so that is a good sign I hope. He places both bags of gear in the back of the vehicle and gets into the rear seat taking notice that the man sitting next to him as well as the Elf in the front seat both have Sergeant stripes on their uniforms. He listens to the man explain the details of the mission. It sounded like several other missions he had been on before with the exception he wasn't doing it for honor anymore, rather for pay.

“Penetrate the vessel, locate the team, assist in securing the teams safety, evacuation to Vashon Island, and continue with he operations primary objective. Yes sir.” Billy Pauses for a moment looking for acceptance in the Sergeants response.

“I'll make sure they call home sir.” He adds in an attempt to lighten the mood.

In anticipation of having to get geared up as soon as they stop Billy takes off his coat. The man sitting next to him noticeably does a double-take looking at the bottom portion of an old school tattoo sneaking out from under his sleeve. The man reaches over and pushes up the fabric revealing the rest of the design.

“Glad to have you on this mission Gunny.” the gruff voiced man says.

Billy Gibbons : Sunday 01:00:00 Camp Duwamish, Seattle

"Glad to hear it; you'll get further details once you get them back on Terra firma.. well ... if you live that long..
remember Gunny, this is recruitment so you're being monitored, but also this is a LIVE operation with real bad guys in play.. go hard or go home!"

The boat is ready and the two man team of pilot and gunner have already got your wets and weapons ready.
Your remaining gear is in waterproof float kits in the RIB.

"Ready son?". Ricoh asks .. Hammerson gives an all clear signal while obviously on his comm. Go Time.!

You jump in the inflatable and the pilot guns it across the surf and off into the pitch black night.

Your comm pings and several waypoints are highlighted in AR around the island. Looks like an area jammer is being used but the dead zones movement is being tracked to the west of vashon island.

Billy Gibbons : Sunday 01:15:00 : Seaside

.. go hard or go home!

“I wouldn't have it any other way Sir.”

Billy looks at his gear zipped up in waterproof kits and begins donning his armor. He checks his Colt 2066 making sure it is currently loaded with S&S rounds and secures it into the quick-draw holster on his left side. One clip of Ex-ex rounds and one clip of APDS go into the two pockets on the holster. His FN P93 is loaded with APDS and secured to his chest with the quick locking sling. An additional clip of APDS and two clips of Ex-ex are stored in one ammo pocket on the front belly left part of the armor.

Sorting through his weapons Billy slides both cougar fine blades into their respective sheathes on either side of the hard ruck mounted to the back of the armor. He tucks the standard mission gear in all their appropriate pockets. Billy leaves his pride and joy for last. His Colt M22A3 he readies with a clip of Ex-ex. Another clip of Ex-ex and two clips of APDS get stored in the other ammo pocket on the front belly right of his armor.

An awkward smile gleams on his face as Billy meticulously loads the under-barrel grenade launcher. It can hold six rounds but he only loads four so they will fire flash-bang, fragmentation, followed by two high explosive. He purposely leaves two slots empty just in case the need arises to change the firing order. The rest of the grenades go in their respective ammo pockets.

All gear loaded and checked on his person. The rest of his gear fits into the smaller of his rucksacks which he reseals in the waterproof float kit and tosses in the RIB. Billy puts on the wet covers and steps into the boat. He slides up the visor on the battle helmet and turns to the two leaders.

“I'll bring them home sir.”

Billy turns to the pilot.

“Lets go get our boys.”

He loads the ECCM on his com hoping it might be enough to cut through the jamming interference. Smartlink activated and all skinlinked weapons show in the green. He switches his vision to low-light taking advantage of the minimal lighting this time of the night. The orientation system implant automatically engages, tracking his position and displaying the overview on the helmet HUD. Billy minimizes the map overlay so as to not obstruct his view.

Billy Gibbons : Sunday 01:35:00 : Vashon Channel

The sea spray thrown in your face as the RIB bounces from crest to crest across the waves stings your eyes in familiar ways that dredge up memories of long past missions.

And then the pilot kills the engine, dropping the boat into a dip between waves.

"These are the grids you asked for sir! You sure we're in the right place?"

Looking around anxiously at the complete lack of a ship where you projected it should be you give the pilot a 'mind yourself' look and he faces the controls sheepishly.

Thankfully, rising up to crash over a wave the open bow of the ferry lurches up spilling brine from its maw like an angry sea monster before crashing into the next wave.

Tapping on the pilots shoulder you point leeward at the vessel and he guns the engine again.

"Some things not right!" you murmur , looking at the wide open bow.

Thinking back on training against pirates, you recall something about trying to maintain speed to stop sinking in a breached hull ship. Sounds like it's what the captain might be doing.

Keeping low in the boat to avoid detection, you pass in front of the ship looking at the bridge but can only make out a few forms, not a full crew ... they don't seem to have noticed you.

"Where you want dropping Gunny?"

Billy Gibbons : Sunday 01:40:01 : Puget Sound

Looking at the condition of the ship, Billy wonders if this is part of his 'teams' plan. That's not a plan. That's a shit-sandwich without the bread. He gives the ship a quick tactical overview and risk assessment considering points of boarding. He is about to tell the pilot to go in the vehicle hold when a raging fire spirit bursts to life. So much for that point of entry.

“Where you want dropping Gunny?”

“Circle around to the stern, port side. I'll get off there.”

Billy reaches into his hip pack removing the grapple gun. He sets the ejector setting for eight meters. No need to fire off fifty meters of cord. He slings the Colt M22A3 over his head and across his back getting ready to immerse himself into this Op. He activates the Ruthenium Stealth Coating of his armor. As the pilot throttles the RIB into position...

“This looks like it could get CATFUed quick. What are the chances you boys can fall back fifty meters in case this vessel goes terminal?”

"Sorry man, we're nearly bingo on fuel, gotta head back and play taxi service for Hammerson and Estevev... Good luck up there, ... Oh here, these bags are yours right? Think you might need 'Em!"

Looks like you're going solo.

Taking cover near the Hummer, Tatjana checks her options. The spider, that was slowly cutting her escape routes off, was out there somewhere. She had to deal with the situation before she could head back on track and continue with the plan. Hopefully, Crispy and Longshot were in a spot, where they could hold out a bit longer.

She activates the Ruthenium Polymer on her stealth suit, just in case, and the rifle and backpack, too, for good measure.

Then Tatjana lets her concentration slip and gets rid of the distraction of the spells she was sustaining. She would need her mind at its fullest now. The little headache from all the magic-use was distracting enough, as it were.

Somehow, all her anger and vengeful thoughts fueled the summoning of the fire spirit quite a bit more than she had expected. It appeared as a hot and bright flame of vengeance next to her. The expected pain increase from the magic's Drain nowhere to be felt. No complains here. The first service asked from the spirit is to protect her.

As the flickering fire sends the shadows dancing, Tatjana easily spots the spidery form in its hiding place.

You had it coming, spider bitch...

Raising her rifle and taking aim at the head of the beast, Tatjana pulls the trigger. Twice.

Oh, snap! Hopefully, the guys didn't hear those shots.

Billy Gibbons : Sunday 01:40:20 : Puget Sound

"Sorry man, we're nearly bingo on fuel, gotta head back and play taxi service for Hammerson and Estevev... Good luck up there, ... Oh here, these bags are yours right? Think you might need 'Em!"

Billy opens the waterproof bag and slings the rucksack on his back. He takes note of the awkwardness of all the gear and does his best to balance the ruck. Readying the grapple gun he takes aim at the railing on the lowest deck to him. He lets his Balance Augmenter sync his movements to the waves. He takes in a breath, holds in for a moment and fires the grapple gun at the rail.

Billy slowly winds in the slack until the hook catches the rail. He gives it a good tug making sure the hook is secure before he clips the grapple unit to the exoskeleton armor. He then activates the winch, lifting the marine off the RIB up the side of the ferry.

Billy Gibbons : Early Sunday Morning : Puget Sound

Billy unhooks the grapple from the rail, winding the remainder of the cord into the unit before tucking it back into the hip bag from where it came. He gives a thumbs up to the RIB Pilot and notices him frantically waiving his arms. He barely catches what the man says but “Shots Fired” stand out clear. He pulls he ruck off his back dropping it to the deck for a moment so he can get the Colt unslung and readied. Once the Assault Riffle is readied he properly secures the ruck on his back and activates his wired reflexes in anticipation of the upcoming Charlie-Foxtrot.

Hijackers : Sunday 01:40:45 : Puget Sound

Two shots ring out clearly in the vehicle hold, despite the suppressor built into Novas rifle, the impacts and the resulting extra-planar scream of pain from the nightmarish hybrid of human and vampiric spider echo around the place, followed by a deathly silence of people stopping what they are doing and listening intently.

Giving up on trying to shield itself from view in the ships door mechanism, the Spirit Queen spider examines her abdomen for the damage caused, she expected to be hit but has never experienced the pain of actual damage from mortal weaponry, they are usually ineffective against her nature.

She reverts to her natural instincts and flees quickly out of the hold and up onto the ship decks directly infront of the bridge, trying to find some more cover in order to ambush her abductors.

At the stern Billy has prepped and begun his movement towards the fore, the well lit rooms before him are ominously void of human presences, like a ghost ship, he thinks, and hustles to get out of the cold.

Guess that hurt a little...

The massive fire spirit floats above the water level, eying it sceptically and keeping near its summoner.

Tatjana does not have that luxury without her spell. She begins to wade through the water towards the stairs, while keeping an eye out for those nasty webs, but quickly figures that it will be way faster, if she just levitates above the water.

Time to get upstairs...

Billy Gibbons : Early Sunday Morning : Somewhere on Puget Sound

The wind and the spray from the sea water combined with the slamming of the vessel into the waves at near full throttle make it difficult to maneuver but Billy presses on making it to the galley door. His timing is just impeccable. As soon as the door opens an intense explosive blast goes off. The augmented reflexes of his implants allow the Gunnery Sergeant to slid behind the door just in time to avoid the blast. His Company Commander always said he had the worst of luck, so much so that his how he got his nickname...

The squad had been pinned down from artillery fire for just a few minutes but already they had taken two causalities and twice as many serious injuries. The men of 2nd Platoon were no strangers to being deep in the drek, but this wasn't just ordinary drek. Awakened plants that could shoot mounds of acidic exploding goop were standing between them and the scientists they were here to evac.

“Dammit Gibbons! Every time some wonky ass drek goes down, I look up and there is your smiling face! You have got to be the bane of my whole damn existence! The thorn buried deep in my ass! If it wasn't for bad luck you wouldn't have any at all PFC Gibbons! In fact from now on your name is Murphy!” Lance Corporal Timmens just loved to yell and be obnoxious. “Any of you goat fuckers call him anything but Murphy and you owe me fifty klicks! I don't even know why i keep you here Murphy! Tell me cum-stain, why do i keep you in my squad?”

"It has got to be for my charming good looks and award winning personality Lance Corporal." Billy replied knowing it would get a chuckle out of the men he was fighting beside.

The memory of his former squad leader brings Billy out of his stupor. He swings around from behind the door bringing the weapon up to the ready.

<<@Hijackers:[Murphy]: Holy Mary Josephine! What ever happened to 'fire-in-the-hole'?>>

“Murphy” : Early Sunday Morning : Somewhere on Puget Sound

**Billy Gibbons will now be referred to as Murphy

As the smoke clears from the explosion a form can be seen in the doorway straight across the cabin. The figure was obviously in the blast radius of that explosion as his face and clothing are charred. He looks out through the door way and the swirling smoke just in time to see a blurry figure pointing an assault riffle in his direction. The man never even heard the weapon fire as he slumped to the ground with three massive holes in his chest.

The sound of the weapon firing may have been quiet but the sound of three explosive rounds is quite distinct. Knowing there may very well be other surviving hijackers that heard the sound of weapons fire, Murphy moves up to the forward edge of the Eating Lounge. He checks to his left and then right around the corner and down the hall. The hallway to his right appears to be clear but to his left at the edge of the stairs is the still smoking form of Crispy, one of his new teammates. What an appropriate call-sign.

“I'm a friendly. Don't fire.” Murphy puts up his left hand, open palm universally signifying stop.

“What's your condition? Do you need a medic?”

“Murphy” : Early Sunday Morning : Somewhere on Puget Sound

He was fairly certain there was another hijacker on this deck and most likely in the room ahead of him but he had to be certain his teammate was alive first. Murphy stepped out into the hallway and backed up to Crispy's position. The man was winded but would be fine, nothing a few drinks wouldn't cure. The sound of movement in the room to his left catches his attention. Murphy switches the firing mode on the Colt M22A3 and fires a flash-bang grenade into the room.

The minigrenade hits the forward-starboard wall of the trid room with an intense burst of light and a powerful localized concussive force. Murphy's flare compensator and sound damper protect him from any of the residual effects of the grenade. Taking advantage of the blast, he steps into the room firing a small narrow burst into the disoriented hijackers chest. The hijacker falls to the ground in a bloody heap. Before returning to his teammate Crispy, he feels it's important to secure the deck. A preliminary sweep of the trid room, into the hallway, to the eating lounge and back over to his teammate reveal no other hostiles.

<<@Hijackers:[Murphy]: Passenger Deck Secure. Crispy is smokin', could use a little TLC but he will live. Nova? Longshot? Sitrep.>>

<<encrypted @Ricoh:[Murphy]: Ship breach successful. Radio frequency jammer disabled. Situation stable for the moment sir.>>

“Sanchez” : Early Sunday Morning : Somewhere on Puget Sound

<< @Command [Sanchez] : Control, package delivered and Mailman en-route to Romeo Victor, get the Soy-Rings™ ready with warm Kaf ! over >>

The Dwarven co-pilot glances up at the vanishing form of the Merc they have delivered to a stricken vessel, then back at the AR display in his helmet.
Waypoints and markers swim in his field of view with data about currents, tides and weather, with a dotted line marking his heading back to base from the middle of the Puget Sound.

The small craft bobs in the wake of the larger ship as the pilot waits for it to pass before jamming the RIB into high speed and it leaps across the waves with a *THUMP* as hardened rubber impacts water.

Sanchez glances behind at the departing ferry, a moment of fear enters his mind, the pilot is usually much more careful to avoid that kind of noise from a manoeuvre.

The movement low in the rear of the RIB confirms his fear as a spider the size of a small car rights itself from the fall and glares hungrily at the Dwarf.

“Heads up Speedy, we got Company …. Frag me that’s a BIG fragging spider!” he yells and reaches for his side-arm.

Speedy kills the speed and turns to the back “What? .. what’s up man ?... HOLY SHEEEEE….!”
The words of surprise are stolen from his mouth as the arachnid spits a huge glob of sticky strands at the pilot, completely covering his face and upper torso.

Sanchez, surprised at the speed of the attack swings his weapon in a wide arc releasing a rapid succession of rounds toward the para-critter, one or two manage to catch it square, the power and shock flinging it backwards into the drink with an unearthly squeal.

He turns his attention to his friend who has fallen to the floor, hands already fixed in place grasping desperately at his face and the sticky substance covering his airways,
Sanchez thinks about trying to help... but the smell, even out here in the open air, is so strong, that stuff is obviously toxic and his colleague has already succumbed to unconsciousness quickly, too quickly,
and he doubts he’d be able to help his friend without being affected himself. “Drek! Sorry Speedy!”

And then there’s the other problem, a *HISS* from the back of the boat makes Sanchez worry about what he might be turning back around to see “Not more spiders!” he prays quietly and turns his head.

Fortunately there’s no huge ass spiders, but stray rounds have pierced the inflatable boat and the engine casing, air and fuel spit out into the night air in a potentially explosive mix.

“Seriously ? what the frag man !” His shoulders slump in admission that his luck just couldn’t get any worse tonight! But regardless touches the button on his comm

<< @Command [Sanchez] : Control, You’re gonna need to hold onto those Soy-Rings, I’ve got a situation here and need immediate evac, over >>
The reply comes almost immediately, sounds like it’s Estevez, by the arrogant sneer in his voice
<< @Sanchez [C&C] : Something you can’t handle Muchacho? VTOL is on task elsewhere until this operation is complete, you gonna need to thumb a ride Ese! >>
Not the words Sanchez wanted, but they are the ones he expected
<< @Command [Sanchez] : Control, Thanks for that, I’ve got an idea, out >>

Checking once more for unwanted stowaways Sanchez grabs the controls and gingerly pushes the engine towards a speed he thinks he can maintain and turns back again to the ferry,
“Not far man, you can make it!” he mutters to himself.

Passing slowly under the leeward shadow of the ferry he looks up, no movement anywhere on the exterior of the ship,
it seems spookily quiet, so much so that the sound of an explosion nearly rocks him into the freezing cold waters, recovering quickly he sees a bulge in the metal on the upper deck, not enough force to split the hull though.
“What in the hell am I getting myself into here?” He wonders “And why am I talking to myself?”

Looking back forward he urges the rapidly deflating RIB forward towards the open bow doors. the small boat bounces violently over a wave and is engulfed inside the bigger ship like a whale swallowing a fish

The scene inside is like something from a TRID, vehicles float in the hold in about five feet of water, the lights flicker as water seeps into the electric cabinets and shorts the ancient equipment,
the only other light is from the still burning web like substance that seems to cover every surface…. Passing like an angry spirit at the far stern of the ship is ..an angry spirit, a flaming angry spirit, obsessed with torching every last flammable item in here.

And then the shock and awe that fills his mind is suddenly replaced by glaring epiphany
“FUEL … FIRE!! … DREK!!”

It’s only by luck alone that he trips and falls backward into the waters,
the bloom of flame passing over the shallow waters protecting him as the fuel and air mixes and then catches a floating piece of flaming web. The RIB is torn and shredded, the solid parts of it and any equipment on board in their water proof containers flung about the place.

Laying in the water, staring up at the ceiling in a daze, the only though passing through his mind is
“Well, that must be the worst of it over!”

At that point a shadow eclipses the moonlight shining in, and a hairy, arachnid leg creeps down from the deck above into the doorway,

Murphy” : Early Sunday Morning : Somewhere on Puget Sound

“Holy Jesus H. Jack Jumping Fireworks! Apparently being subtle isn't this teams shtick.” Murphy spins around towards the downwards stairs watching as ash and small bits of flaming webbing float on the plumes of heat rising from the vehicle hold. He turns back to his teammate Crispy, making sure he has his weapon at the ready.

“Stay here and protect this position. Do not let anyone onto the Bridge. I'm going below to see what's going on down there.” With that, he pulls his weapon up to the ready. Smartlink counts thirty-four Ex-ex rounds remaining with a frag mini-grenade in the pipe and two HE on deck. My rifle, without me, is useless. Without my rifle, I am useless. I must fire my rifle true. I must shoot straighter than my enemy who is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me. Murphy walks over to the downward stairs taking a moment to peer around the rail before putting his whole body potentially in the line of fire for who or whatever might be down there. The flickering of orange light can be seen from the room below.

<<@Hijackers:[Murphy]: Nova? Longshot? If you can hear me I am en route to the vehicle hold. Something has to be done about this fire creature before it burns the ship down.>>

Well, that should do for a distraction, I guess... Tatjana thinks to herself, as the explosion rocks the boat from left to right.

<< @Team + Murphy [Nova] Comm's working again? Nice! ... Murphy? What are you doing here? ... That spirit is mine, just don't look too threatening to it, and you should be fine. Oh, and there is a big, BIG spider out there somewhere. Nasty thing. Magical. I managed to scare it away, but not much more for now. >>

<<@Nova[PMS*] : You have ..Thirty .. Seven ... Missed calls. Would you like to listen to your messaging options ? please press ONE to review, TWO to redial, THREE to delete... *Beeeep*

You have selected DELETE, are you sure you would like to DELETE all messages from caller [RICOH] ?...
*Beeep* .. Messages Deleted, thank you for your call, Goodbye >>


* Personal Messaging Service

Murphy” : Early Sunday Morning : Somewhere on Puget Sound

<<@Team:[Murphy]: Affirmative Comm's are up. Apparently that first explosion rocked an area jamming device. Found that up here in the forward trid room. Ricoh and Hammerson sent me in to replace Brian. Apparently the life boat didn't make it.>>

There is a short pause from talking on comms as he takes a couple steps down the stairs leading into the vehicle hold.

<<@Team:[Murphy]: Wait what?! Spiders? Why does it always have to be spiders? ….. That spirit you say, its yours? Is that what caused that last explosion?>>

Murphy makes it to the edge of the stairwell and sees what he assumes to be Nova, judging from the dossier entry of her talents with the 'Big Guns'. The scene down here looks to be something straight out of a B-rated horror trideo. Bits and pieces of burning webbing illuminate the hold with a massive fire spirit playing the arsonist. The lights in the hold flicker from all the damage. The few vehicles here float around randomly smashing into whatever gets in their way. Even with protection of his armored suit, the rancid smell of burning egg sacs brings back memories of the months he spent deployed in the Hellbender Valley.

Towards the bow, water continues to flood in from the open doors. As he watches the water through the plumes of acrid smoke his attention is drawn to something floating past. He reaches out to grab at it pulling back a piece of some synthetic black stretchable material with a 'Z' pattern on it. This has got to be part of the RIB. Why would they have returned to the boat? Holding up the pattern for Nova to see...

<<@Team:[Murphy]: There were two other men on the RIB that brought me here. I think this may be part of it. I don't know why they would have turned around, they were supposed to be heading back to shore. If they are down here we have to find them.>>

Murphy takes a single step out from the stairs into the vehicle hold. The rushing water is strong so he keeps his body pressed against the railing as he moves forward towards the crash site.

Tatjana looks over to the man, who seems to be Murphy and nods.

<< @Team [Nova] No clue what caused that last explosion. Chain reaction? But trust me, it's better that way. Fire works wonders against these beasts. ... No Crispy, still no flamethrower in sight, sorry. ... So, Brian didn't make it? Crap! ... Murphy, thanks for coming and nice to have you (and whoever is with you, if we can find them). I will give you a quick rundown of what happened... We took the ferry over to the island, but it was ambushed and sunk by pirates with this ship here. We made it over before the ferry went down, as did some nasty cargo... yeah, the spiders, if you havn't guessed by now, and they have managed to get lose also. Most of them should be down by now, but some kind of queen spider is still lurking somewhere around here. Right now, we are working on taking over the ship, so we can get it towards the island before it goes down as well. ... Alright, let's look for the guys you are with... do you have their comms? Since the jammer seems to be down, that's likely the quickest way to get them. >>

<< @Ricoh, Hammerson [Nova] Status report. The jammer that made it impossible for us to report back in is down. Situation is a bit of a mess here, pirates have sunk the ferry we were on. We are on their ship now to take it over and to get to the island to continue the mission. Brian is MIA, likely KIA. Reinforcements have arrived, Murphy and some people he was on the boat with. That boat is down as well, but the guys must be somewhere nearby. Going to find them now. Nova out. >>