(That's actually what they're called in about 10 or 20 years from now.  At the moment they're just Advance EW gear.  Getting ready to leave sisters house will update this soon, tommorow if not tonight.)

He was in a dark mood looking at the mechanics mutilating his baby. She was running fine and didn't need all that 'crap' they where putting on. He had tweaked the engines to max performance and now these barbarians where ripping essential bits out of his baby. If she needed anything it was a super charged engine but no they where throwing in electronics and taking missiles off. Gritting teeth and glaring at the barbarians gutting his baby from a safe distance, he was ordered to stay away after threatening one of the mechanics with a wrench promising the man he would tear his head off if they screwed up his baby, he took another sip of his coffee.

The data that was feeding back to this cutting edge equipment was so amazing that he couldn't keep the grin off his face.  Luckily for him Greg and Tony were outside 411 so they couldn't give him the same looks that they were giving to the tech crews pulling her apart to make room for the gear.  He had plenty of questions for Albert as he would likely have to debug and repair things on the fly if they got damaged in the field and he didn't want to damage it further if that was the case.

~ Tony ~

The long short of it, was that they we're downgrading 411's missile systems to turn her into an EW boat capable of providing battalion or even regimental level electronic support.  At least that was the theory if everything worked (if).  What was left of 151st Regimental command thought it was pretty important to get 411 upgraded for some reason.

If nothing else it gave 411 a chance to resupply before hitting the field again.  Squating in the woods and sleeping in a cramped tank gets old fast.

---

~ Greg ~

Thankfully, they were staying away from the suspension and transport systems well, mostly.  They were overhauling the missile system, twinking with the turret system, and totally gutting the sensors and targeting system.  If you were the gunner, you'd be ALOT more upset, but for the most part you just need to make sure 411 gets to where it's going and lives through what's happening to come home.

You're pretty pleased that the egg heads havent tried to upgrade the reliable and easy to work ICE to a more 'efficient' fusion system, which you wouldnt be able to maintain, till you overhear one of them mention.  Such upgrades will be slotted for 'the future'.

---

~ Crispin ~

Albert mentions in the lab, everything worked fine, but the electronics were a little 'delicate' and havent been 'battlefield' tested.  They're waiting for feed back from Crispin.

Theres discussion of adding or swapping out one of the crew members of 411 for a lab tech to study field testing, and to handle repairs to the EW if needed.  Crispin is pretty sure Tony isnt going to be too please with THAT bit of news.

---

Hoping to look at character sheets today/tommorow to finalize.  Will fish for a fourth player, to fill the gunnery position for the tank.  Will likely gut some cargo space to add a 'fifth' davion (npc) liason to the crew.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:23, Mon 18 July 2011.

"What?! A civvie? You got to be out of your firakking mind! I don't care if he knows the circuit board, he wouldn't even know when to duck, or when to expect the tank to buck! I mean, I'm a marine, I don't have the experience the rest of the crew does, and I'm way better than some frakking lab tech. Some lowly, pissed-someone-off lab rat, too, or else he wouldn't be here. Seriously, what can he do that the stupid thing couldn't send electronically? McAlister can fix it better than the guy they send, I'd bet my lunch for a week on it." That was saying something- no E-Rats, not even field food, they were fed real, live, chow since they were in base getting the retrofit. It was almost worth platinum. Well- to those who weren't civilian lab rats who'd never been in the field, anyhow.

(OOC: I know, it'll probably a very experienced and likeable person, but I'm on a roll here. :P )

Eventually getting bored enough and frustrated to the point of not being allowed to be on the job up close he finishes his drink and starts to saunter off for a long refreshing walk and to get himself a proper fix. The good stuff was hard to come by after all and who knew when he got another opportunity to stock up.

~ Captain Garabaldo ~

Nate waves a hand dismissively at Garabaldo's objections, "You're a soldier Captain.  You'll do what youre told like everyone else.  They're pulling out one of the cargo lockers to make room for a fifth on 411.

The Fed Rats seem to think that since they're installing their equipment on your tank, that they have a right to be there to watch you blow it up or run it into the ground.  The old man thinks it's a cheap price to pay considering that it's suppose to be cutting edge technologoy that we havent see around since before we were born."

He makes a motion as if that topic of the discussion was over as far as he was concerned.

"This base of operations isnt on any map, but it's too exposed and it's just a matter of time till their Aero recon picks it out.  We've got transports inbound to bug out and move everything that isnt nailed down to 'dispersed' locations."

Dispersed was the nice way of saying divide it up and hide it everywhere to avoid losing it all in one decisively bad stroke of luck.

"Your recon company has been assigned this sector to secure and work out of.  It doesnt look like much, which is the point.  Hopefully the Combine and Dragoons will think the same and wont come knocking.  Logistics will make an effort to send out shipments once a week.  Supplies and what ever munitions we can spare."

It wasnt an ideal arrangement, but then again everything was SNAFU since the invasion started so what else was new?

---

~ Gregory ~

The mess tent was an open aired oversized Gazebo.  There were long metallic picnic style tables and benches put out and a chow line.  The food was understandably horrible.  The saving grace was that, it was fresh (sort of) and they werent MRE's that were reconstituted to an edible state with water rations.  Here and there other men and women wearing Eridani colors were seated grabbing a bite to eat while they could.

---

~ Caitlin ~

It was just one of those days for Caitlin.  Short rest, and stuck in a Pegasus with three other guys and out on patrol for days with out a shower was enough to make anyone surly.  Finding out that Pegasus 411 was being overhauled was pretty bad.  Finding out that they were overhauling the sensors and targeting was pretty unwelcome.  Losing a third of her missiles just made it one of those days.

Captain Garabaldo only said they were here for some refiting, no one said anything about downgrading her weapons or ripping out the targeting system.  The Eridani was a good military unit, but it was still a military unit.  Anything not broken being fixed, was guaranteed to be broken by the time they were done.  it was enough to make her weep.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:42, Mon 18 July 2011.

Crispin realized quickly into the commentary that they would need the expertise of the extra person.  He was good at what he did but this gear was delving into fields that he had either barely grazed by on or hadn't at all...there was no need to before they slapped this thing into the 411.

"As cramped as it will be and as certain as I am that all around there will be griping if it works as advertised without breaking too often it'll be a win-win...least from my pov." he chuckled as he started to realize that they were going to be sharing the metal coffin with another soul.

Gregory grumbled though he was used to it ever since he got that nice letter from his father 'kindly requesting' him to never ever return home. He grabs some chow and some drink and sits down with some familiar faces.

"I'd kill fore some boiled lobster now you know. Real food instead of this warmed up vomit."

He pulls out his canteen which has the reputation to be filled with the good stuff you didn't want your chauffeur drinking before a ride and offers it for sharing.

Caitlin sat outside the refit facility rubbing her temples, trying desperately not to scream. They "fixed" her targeting system and optics, last time they did that, her accuracy dropped by 20 per cent. She didn't mind losing the missiles so much. She might have in the better times, but recently they'd been going out short loaded due to lack of supplies and the missiles were so precious she couldn't practice to bring herself up to speed with the "improvements"

"What they expect me to use? Harsh language?" Caitlin muttered to herself as she took a sip of water from a chilled plastic bottle. She was almost tempted to wipe the grime and soot from her face, but clean water was something to drink, only when there was plenty, could she indulge.

She looked back at the facility, mentally trying to fight the urge to roll a frag grenade into the place and kill the people destroying her tank. It was cramped enough inside, any more additions might make it impossible.

She held up the St. George medallion in her hand. Her brother gave her it for luck. Normally it would take pride of place on the gunsight, but she didn't trust them not to steal it. St. George patron saint of the Cavalry and syphilitic. She grinned, before placing it back into one of her pockets and zipping it tight. Rising stiffly to her feet, she picked up her helmet, sticking it under her arm and headed for the chow line. Perhaps they had something nice to eat for a change.

She couldn't help but hear Gregory's comment as she arrived in line. "The warmed up vomit again? Oh well, it beats the cold vomit......and your cooking by a long stretch." her soft Irish lilt resounded throughout the mess hall, her tone indicating she was teasing, but with a harsh edge thanks to the news about the weapons systems.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:10, Mon 18 July 2011.

"Yes, sir," he replied glumly. After the rest, he cocked his head to the side, doing some quick calculations. "Sir, with that extra person, and that locker gone, which we keep food in, we should have enough supplies for about 3 days, I think. And you say you'll try very hard to get us food every week. I think we'll need four filter canteens, and a good batch of ammo for the old bolt-action rifle. I'm going to need to supplement or rations with anything that doesn't move fast enough. And whatever E-rat pills you have, sir. Nasty as they are, I need something to keep my crew from eating each other."

After the informational meeting- it certainly wasn't a two-way communication- he went to the chow line. He might as well get whatever he could, now. In fact, he'd stuff whatever might keep for later in his pouches, too.

Seeing the others in line, he cuts up to them and says, "Team meeting after dinner. Tell Crispin if you see him, otherwise we'll go looking. Bring food." He then heads to the back of the line, instead of cutting in.

He chuckles and takes a swig of his canteen filled with moonshine before passing it to the first taker.

"You need quality ingredients to make a decent meal. I can't help you dont have Soltarian Beef here but just some cheap knock off."

The driver was known to hail from a well of family and have lived the life of luxury and his presence here was strange in the least.
As the Lt orders a team meeting he replies good spirited.

"Nothing of that available here Sir. Where we meeting?"

"Well, bring what excuse they use for it here that won't spoil. Might as well be near your still- I could use a drink. Oh wait, you don't have one of those, I keep forgetting, I might have to reprimand you or something if I found out," he said, taking a swig from the offered canteen. *Cough* "Smooth," he said in a grating whisper, passing it back. Recovering, he added, "How about by the artillery spotter's lookout, it has such a nice view."

"Yes, sir" she snorted in surprise at the Lieutenants suggestion of a place to meet. "We have artillery?" she said, before realising she perhaps shouldn't have said it quite that loudly. "Uh....I'll get Crispin after I've had some chow, sir. He probably has his head stuck in a book, or the engine compartment."

"If he touches my engine i tear his head off. It enough we have those damn techs tearing her apart like they are doing. Not a drop of respect for a girl like her."

He scratches his beard and once everyone was done with the canteen puts it away to eat his meal with enough speed his taste buts wouldn't have time to taste the bad stuff.

"No. That's why it makes such a good place to meet. Nice place set up for someone with viewers to use, only I'm not sure if anyone has those, let alone artillery to direct with them."
"Thanks, better than all of us looking for him."

"Yeah... I don't think he'll do that. He should know better from the last time, when he decided he could tweak the computer chip... Remember? I think you explained rather well to him, not to cross that line. He respects her, though- more like someone with a beatiful girl they think needs...er," he stammers, looking at Caitlin, "augmentation. Might make things a little better, might make them a little worse, I don't see why things should be messed with if they're good." You're pretty sure he's not talking about augmenting women's cleavage anymore.

Caitlin raised an eyebrow "Why sure, and he's looking at me when he says beautiful girl that he thinks needs augmentation and in front of the entire chow line." her voice started to grow louder in indignation as she sat down  "and when I could just as easily be mentioning the other members of the crew that are more in need of it. Sir." she left the statement trailing as she toyed with the food in front of her.

Caitlin wasn't really hungry, she know in her head she needed to eat, but she found herself eating mechanically. She knew the Lt was messing around with Asgard, it was amusing the way he kept getting flustered like that. After being on his crew for so long, she thought he'd begin to get used to the fact she was part of it.

Caitlin hunched over the table trying to engage the others in conversation. "So....what's new? I heard Sue and Matt from Striker 201 got caught in 'conduct unbecoming' last night." the smile grew on her face. "They are so cute together."

Gregory ends the talk about the mutilation of his baby with a gruff hmmph and the scraping sound of his spoon over his now empty plate.

"Neither of our girls need augmentation Sir. They are both operating perfectly without any unnatural Gizmo's."

He Shoots Caitlin a wide grin and grabs his canteen for another swig. When she starts to gossip he chimes in.

"Well you know it eventually happens. Only natural that in the heat of battle weapons get drawn. To bad they have gotten themselves caught though i hope the pictures show up on the net soon enough."

"I said I don't think augmentation is a good thing. Ruins the simple beauty, if everything was tweaked into the same mold, there wouldn't be enough diversity to recognize real beauty when you saw it. Personally I prefer looks to size, myself."

He heads off as the gossip starts. Especially the net pictures part- some things, it's better your officers didn't know about. Officially, anyhow.

"I wanna get a look at this thing..." mentioned Crispin as he crawled out of one hatch of the 411 to the open panelling on the side of the hovercraft.  Sticking his upper body in his legs dangled out into the air and his never quite healed burn scarred right arm that was missing a pair of fingers held onto a rail as best as possible.  If someone didn't know better it would almost look like he was a dead body sticking out of the 411 in some macabre portrait...

...inside the panel though his good arm checked linkages and referenced them to the slate he had been given.

"I know, but I'm so happy for them. After Sue's guy got hit on the first day of the invasion, she was lost for a while. Matt is so good for her, I'm happy they're together" she leaned forward over the table "My work here, is done." Cat looked pleased with her self as she continued eating her dinner. "You know exactly what they're doing to our bean sidhe? All I know is they cut the number of tubes down by 4. You're going to have to be at the top of your game now. Hit and move."

He shakes his head and doesn't look to pleased.

"All i know is they are adding more electronics. So basically we are getting screwed even harder when taking a hit and get more stuff along that can break. I hate it when they do that. "

~ Captain Garabaldo ~

Nate reviews a few more things with Captain Garabaldo before they part ways.

His sector does feature an underground spring, and is near a mountain. A cave has been scouted out that might make for a decent base of operations, and a jutted over hang to park Pegasus under, goes along way to hiding her.  A bit of camo netting and you'd have to be close up to find her.

The spring should simplify logistics.  A water purifier to kill whatever was in the water, would ensure that drinkable water was close at hand.  The only thing that would they needed to fly out would probably be food, and munitions.

Five people, over seven days, that was about 35 pounds of food that would have to be flown out.  They could stow the rations in the cave, but god forbid they lost the cave, they'd all starve.

---

~ Pegasus 411 ~

The hissing sound of a torch hot enough to slice through armor was cut off and the sound of metal being wrenched apart was heard as the crew nearest to 411 watch some of the storage lockers got torn out of the tank for part of the refit.  Personal effects were piled up near the tank for the crew to review what could be taken and would have to be left behind.

~ Mess hall ~

Even from here you could watch them tearing up the ole girl, and the squeals of metal being wrenched apart almost sounded like she was in literal pain.  At
least as much as an inanimate object could make.


This message was last edited by the GM at 17:09, Tue 19 July 2011.

Caitlin stood up to hug Bailey warmly "Grab a pew. Matt and Sue finally got together last night." she winced as a particular machine tool made a screeching noise that seemed to burrow it's way into her body. She shared a quick worried glance with Asgard before returning to talk to Bailey "Just....they got caught. I think they'll end up with NJP's, they're good for each other. What brings you out our way? You still flying that ammunition magnet? Bring us any fresh food?"