In reply to Walker (msg # 72):

Jane nodded to Peter and returned his kiss just as quickly.  These stolen moments were to be treasured.

She whispered "I understand.  You be careful." to Peter before stepping back to look at Walker.  "Thanks but it's ok.  The hoods up and that means he'll soon be lost in mechanical stuff.  I wouldn't want to draw him away from that."

Jane grinned and turned around to start her walk.  As she walked past Peter she reached out and slapped his butt, knowing that it would get some kind of reaction out of him.  She chuckled and briefly looked over her shoulder as she left the area.

In reply to Jane Guin (msg # 73):

"Right. No problemo." He lay down in the bed and appeared to go to sleep as Peter worked on the truck.

Peter's smile quickly turned into a mock-glare at the ass-slapping as he watched Jane walk away. After a moment, he turned back to the truck's innards once again.

The Airship droned on for the next couple hours. The CAP aircraft changed every hour, planes "landing" matched speed at the rear of the hangar bay, and the maghook was deployed to reel them in. Fresh CAP ultralights were launched out the front, and when the forward hatch was raised to do this another gust of cold air blasted through the bay.

Jason and Shay, the mysterious-looking woman, took their turn at guard duty. Denis and Walker went off-shift, although what kind of watch Walker hoped to perform down in the hangar bay was anyone's guess. Still, all seemed quiet enough.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:38, Sun 29 Sept 2013.

Trejo sat in his chair, dozing lightly.  He didn't sleep long or deeply, just bits and pieces here.  The airship was too new, too strange for him to get a good sleep.  He'd have to settle for catnaps and such.  He'd wake, look around briefly and close his eyes.  It'd do for now.  But it wasn't his shift so he was getting what rest he could.

In reply to Trejo (msg # 77):

Yawning, Walker gets up and goes for a walk. He visited the head, then checked in on the bridge where Smoker was spending his time. He then went back to the assigned VIP cabins to get some sleep.

In reply to Walker (msg # 78):

On guard with Jason in the corridor outside Simon's cabin, Shay nodded to Walker as he passed by. It was hard for her to relate to and trust other people. Being afraid to touch others and wearing a mask made that a difficult proposition. Maybe those were things she could work on, she reflected.

Shay took out her deck and passed the time shuffling cards, back and forth, 1-handed (while standing). The casino was a long time ago, but the feel of the cards in her hands calmed her down.

When she's not sleepying or checking in with Peter, Jane will make her way up to the bridge and ask to see if she could look around up there and see how they flew this contraption and how it differed from what she had flown before.

On the darkened bridge was Captain Phelps, a pilot, with a copilot, sensor operator, navigator and duty engineer. It was more crew than a large aircraft, more like a small navy ship. There were functioning computer monitors and screens, plus crash couches with 5-point harnesses, all looking scavenged and used.

Smoker was there, in one of the padded bridge chairs. The sensors operator was bent over a radar/multifunction display which mapped the terrain and tracked the CAP flights. This data was transmitted to the pilot's HUD. The copilot was also wearing light-intensifier goggles as a backup for the HUD. She was looking around, visually checking the sky.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 81):

Outside, the moon had gone down but there were stars in the sky. The red-lit bridge didn't disturb the night vision of the crews and observers. Snow-covered mountainsides and dark forests flitted by as the dirigible used terrain-following flight to keep below the radar horizon.

It could have been nothing, but Smoker caught something from the corner of his eye as he looked out the port side window. It was just a shadow briefly flitting across a distant snowfield, at about 9 o'clock. Maybe ten-fifteen miles distant?

"What's that over there?" asked Smoker, pointing.

"A shadow, something moving across that snowfield, about 9 o'clock, ten miles or more out..."

Jane, who had been looking in the opposite direction, turned to the direction that Smoker indicated and peered out.  She was hoping it was nothing but then out here, or up here, nothing never happened.

Phelps looked up at the warning. "Damn, let me see." Borrowing the NVGs, he began scanning to the left. "Shit! Five Combine Raptors! They're almost on top of us! They must be jamming our radar."

Jane knew that Raptors were Throckmorton's flying Hunter-Killer drones, fairly heavily armed (with a pair each of 20mm autocannons and Sidewinder missiles mounted on stub wings) and decently armoured, but scarcely a flying tank. They were enough to take on Resistance groups on the ground or the typical Sky Pirate ultralight aircraft. Raptors usually carried a 5-member unit of Automatons in a rear bay, when not carrying ten elite Red Hats. Automatons were creepy silver armoured skeletons armed with 12mm chain-guns.

Phelps looked at Smoker and Jane. "You better get with Simon, if they board I'll try and let you know." The VIP cabins were down the corridor just aft of the bridge, this is where Simon was located.

Over the loudspeaker:

"ATTENTION! THIS IS THE CAPTAIN SPEAKING. RED ALERT, SAY AGAIN, RED ALERT. FIVE RAPTORS ARE IN-BOUND FROM THE EAST. ALL AIRCRAFT LAUNCH IMMEDIATELY. SECURITY TEAM REPORT TO THE SMALL ARMS LOCKER."

An alarm klaxon started sounding through the airship. The corridors filled with flight and deck crew heading for the "fireman's pole" in the middle of the spiral stairs to quickly slid down to the hangar deck. Outside, the SKy Raider's 20mm guns started hammering away. The 2 ultralights on CAP dove into the middle of the precise flight of Raptors, trying to break up the attack formation before it got closer. Tracers filled the skies, as well as the Ultra-Lights' unguided air-to-air rockets. Then explosions blossomed in the darkness as hit were scored but it was impossible to say who was being shot down.

The gondola's front clamshell doors opened, admitting a gust of freezing air. The ready ultra-lights began to take off into the blackness. Security personnel in blue camouflage, black vests and blue berets were stationed just outside the bridge.

Trejo rolled from his buck to his feet before he was even awake, the comforting weight of his machete in his hand.  Not he actually needed it at the moment he realized as the message came over the speakers.  What was he going to do?  Hang on the outside of the and swing at the planes with his sword?  Tempting....

With a grunt, he sheathed the blade and grabbed his armored coat.  Throwing it on and grabbing the rest of he gear, he exited his little cabin and headed towards Simon's.  He wasn't likely to be able to do much just yet, but he wanted to be prepared.  Probably should have known that bastard would have found them.  Simon was too big a target for Throckmorton to ignore.

The only question was...  How did he know where to find the posse and the head Templar?

Peter sat up from inside the cab of the technical and smacked his head. He let out a string of curses, thankfully it was drowned out by the loudspeaker and alarm klaxons going off. What the hell was a red alert? It didn't sound good, that was for sure.

He grabbed up his weapons and got out of the truck. He stared at the truck and the machinegun lying in the bed for a moment. He hesitated, thinking if they were getting attacked it might be good to have the machinegun mounted. Then he shrugged it off, knowing that would only help if someone specifically attacked this hangar bay.

He made his way back towards Simon's quarters.

Jane let out a string of curses that she had developed over the years and made a beeline for Simon's, grabbing up her weapon (if she wasn't allowed to take it with her before).

She knew it.  It was never dull. Even when it was dull it wasn't dull because they would think it was a trap.  Such was her life.

"Right," said Smoker and scampered back to the accommodations without delay.

Outside the VIP rooms, Jason came up, P90 slung.

"Not much we can do at the moment.

"We have a plan, here? I guess we can defend the hallway.

"Maybe put a couple people inside Simon's room."

In reply to Jason Sinclair (msg # 91):

Winnie nodded.

"All right. Denis, you and me, we'll stay with Simon and Fred inside the room."

In reply to Winnie Franklin (msg # 92):

"Yes! Let's do this!"

Grabbing his assault rifle, Walker followed Peter upstairs.

Already having been in the hallway, Mordred merely waited as the others gathered around her. She didn't say anything.

Smoker arrived.

"What do you want me to do?"

As everyone got organised, the ship's point defence 20mm autocannons began pounding away. Explosions sounded, outside the ship. Thankfully they didn't seem to be taking direct fire, yet.

But their luck didn't hold out. The gondola shook from several nearby explosions. The lights flickered, then emergency power came back on. They could still see but it was difficult.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:39, Sun 29 Sept 2013.