Days pass by without any word on the status of the invasion. Major Karno seems to know, but he is not sharing...

Finally, late on the 23rd of December, 107 PA, Pluto Company is given a mission to assault a prison the following day, which will coincide with other battle plans falling on the same date.

Once again, Pluto Company is assembled and once again 3rd platoon is the only platoon heading out into the fray. Zed and his mobile weapons shop is just pulling into the fort as the company moves inside for the meeting.

It seems there is a Coalition prison, known as Camp Purity, in need of liberating...

3rd platoon is gathered inside the mess hall, when Lieutenant Nuitari arrives and prepares to begin the mission briefing...
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:05, Fri 25 Oct 2013.

After the heavy combat of September subsided, Max hunkered down in the small repair shop haphazardly set up in the back of his Wilderness Crusader hovercraft. The task of reattaching a severed wing and damaged flight pack on his Flying Titan power armour had him criss-crossing the outpost bargaining and bribing for materials.

By the time the project ended, Max was on a first-name basis with logistics officers, mechanics, and security among the Tolkeenites. What started as a few returned favors threw Max into running an unofficial repair and refit unit for loyalists and mercenaries alike.

His small shop down the hill wasn't much compared to the repair facility in the outpost, but the locals soon figured there was no need for official requisition forms and the work wasn't limited to officially sanctioned modifications. Max got used to coming back from patrol to a few mercs milling around his shop waiting for e-clips recharges, weapon tear-down and refits, or more elaborate requests.

Max had his customers cover materials, but seemed more interested in hearing stories and news from the field than taking credits. The shop was being run at a loss, but Max refused numerous offers for business advice. He seemed content making contacts among the ground troops and being a center for news and information. Soldiers are calmer when they know what's going on.

The shop stayed open until early December when news of the invasion came through the grapevine. Max finished his last few projects and stowed his facilities. The shit was about to hit the fan and he wanted to be ready.


--------

Today, Max sits in the mess hall with the rest of the troops. His hair has grown long and his jaw is overrun with dark stubble, peppered here and there with grey.
He wears the same leather jacket he did in the fall, despite the colder weather.
His portable computer sits in his lap waiting eagerly for some real intel from the higher-ups.

The 3rd sits, waiting for the briefing to start. The last few weeks had been pretty dull, not that he minded really. It gave him the chance to let Antonio take over for a bit and let that fat prick blow off some steam. As much as he didn't really enjoy having Antonio in charge, the guy did know how to have fun. He has a distant look in his eyes, like he's not really paying much attnetion to whats going on around him.

What are we waiting for?
A briefing.
About what?
Dunno, we'll find out soon enough. What do those words say?
Not telling...
Aw come on!
give me control, and I'll tell you.
Nope. This is a briefing, not a good time for your antics.
... fair point. Wake me up if you find out anything interesting.

Jack was a bit rested and a bit restless. He often liked to take a day or two off from things, but that was about as much as he ever got in the military...if that. In human form, he lounged in a chair, leaning back a bit.

A prison? He betted the Coalition was doing terrible things to anyone there. He'd be happy to help free them and destroy the prison if that was the mission.

He glanced around at the others there, nodding in greeting to the few that he knew well. And he waited.

Na-Wa went where he was told to go by those above him whom Whon-Ecke said he could trust.

Sitting down in the back the dim wit Psi-Stalker removes his rune sword from it's sheath and looks at it. Na-Wa doesn't say anything, but tilts his head and tilts the sword as he looks at it.

Heinrich had been busy helping heal those he could with his psychic powers and there were plenty who needed it and more. War on his home world was bad, but this 'technology' they had here made it so even a child could easily kill many people very rapidly, it was a lot to process.

Boris arrived along with everyone else, and found a seat near the back. He could probably hear everything going on from outside the fort, but allows the others to sit closer to the good Major, for what is sure to be an exciting meeting about new patrol routes... or alternating shifts... or some such boredom...

He has enjoyed the time he has spent with Masque in the recent weeks, sharing some of his stories about Russia, and how he found himself here...

 For his part, 'Masque has been battered by the course of the fighting but never seriously damaged, mainly because of his avowed preference for fighting unfairly whenever possible - foxholes, smoke grenades, indirect fire, ambushes... He uses them readily, preaches their merits vocally and usually manages to find the means to demonstrate their value sooner or later, aided and abetted by the fact that the squad seems to be calming down at last after a couple of months of murder, madness and mayhem that always seemed more important to some people than actually fighting the war.

 Lately however, he's been primarily occupied with a prize taken from one of the earlier engagements, a flight pack from one of the new super-heavy SAMAS models which he's spent a great deal of time refitting (and paying to have refitted) into something that will interface with his modular armour clamps to give him true flight capability despite his massive and comparatively unaerodynamic weight...

 ...Perhaps more entertainingly for members of the squad however, this new capacity is not one that can be mastered without a certain measure of assiduous training and the roar of hugely powerful nuclear turbines permeated by a deep-voiced "Bojmoi!", ending in a barely-controlled impact on some nearby terrain feature was a regular feature of mid-December before the big Russian finally got the hang of things and started to become more of an asset and less of a threat to public safety once more.

 During that time he of course made himself available for improvement work to the base (digging, vibro-aided construction, more digging), long and thoughtful conversations with other mercenaries and regulars alike and, of course semi-regular high-speed and highly unpredictable runs back and forth between nearby settlements in order to pick up the odd comfort item (or keg) for personnel on downtime... And increasingly, as he invests more and more in his cyborg frame, 'Masque has come to define high-speed.

 Not that that's obvious in the meeting however, as he sits back in a comfortable-looking crouch, wearing only light combat gear (he is after all, on-base) with a big cigar visible over the top of his BDU pocket, waiting on the end of the meeting to be clipped and lit.

Seeing the massive white tiger settle in a few feet down from him, Max leans back on his bench and gives him a nod.
"Hey." He pauses, unable to remember what the cyborg calls himself. "How're those control thrusters working out for you? They help level things out?"

After his own repairs were done, Max had ended up with some extra flight components he didn't need. He'd heard stories of a cat that dreamed of flight and passed the parts on more out of sympathy than anything else. He didn't seem to hear quite as much Russian grumbling around the base since then.

The lieutenant enters the room, and walks right up to the front. He should already have everyone's attention, and he gets right to the briefing without further delay.

"Good morning. Firstly, you will notice there have been more member transfers. Those you see here, are who make up the current roster for Pluto Company, Third Platoon."

"We are finally leaving this outpost called Juyong. They are sending us out to assault a prison camp. That last attack orchestrated by Tolkeen has crippled the Coalition advance. They have suffered nearly a million casualties and have been forced to fall back. Their advance, on all fronts have come to a complete stand still, and we are winning more ground each hour. This prison, has been left behind, not properly defended, and now is vulnerable."

"Those are our people in there, still being tortured, and mistreated. And they need our help. I have HD-video of the entire compound from just a few hundred feet above. We will be able to plan a strategic attack, free our people, and return them to the safety of Tolkeen."

"Get ready. We leave in an hour. Grab whatever you need from Zed's mobile store before we set out."
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:10, Sat 14 Dec 2013.

Third Platoon

Lieutenant Nuitari
Sergeant Dusk
Private 'The Third'
Private Thasha

Sir Aries

Silvermasque
Lotus
Jack
Max Damage
Boris
Heinrich
Disharmony
Mephisto
Na-Wa
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:08, Sat 14 Dec 2013.

Cutting his conversation with Silvermasque short before it began, Max listens to the Lieutenant as he lays it all out. Learning that this mixed bag of a dozen mercs and opportunists qualifies as a full platoon in the Tolkeen military told him the war effort was more desperate than the Lieutenant suggested.

After Lt. Nuitary moves off, Max folds up his computer and stands to address group. "I can take two of you, with your gear." He holds two fingers up and scans his eyes over the lot of you.

The 3rd, sits and listens to the officer. His first thought is that the people in the room are more of a squad, not a platoon. He is thrilled to hear about the Tolkeen victories! Emotion takes over and he leaps up out of his seat and cheers. "YES! Take that you dead boy suckers! A million causalities! Fuck yeah!"

Sit down you twit!
What?
Look around, you're embarrassing me!
Oh, that's funny coming form you, now you know how I feel.

He then sits down awkwardly, suddenly very self conscious.

He shakes his head at Max's offer. "No thanks man, I'll head out on my Speedster."

Did you just 'dude' that guy?
No! I said man, besides he's a merc? I dunno what rank he is.
Good, cause you know how I feel about dude!
Look Antonio, chill. Just cause we're gunna get shot at again doesn't mean you can go full princess on me.

When the briefing is over he gets his gear together and suits up for combat. On his way out he grabs a Neural Mace from Zed's store.

Heinrich nodded, "Let's go save them then." he looked to Max, "I'll take you up on that offer. I can be ready shortly."

Max gives a nod to passionate and gun-laden merc when he declines, then takes a couple steps toward Heinrich, "Sounds good. I want to hit this mobile store first. I'll bring my hovercraft to the gate and look for you in thirty minutes."

He holds out his hand. His deep green skin is half covered by fingerless leather gloves. Max is broad, but several inches shorter than Heinrich. He has to look up as he introduces himself. "Name's Max."

His words come clear and quick, and Max has already shifted his weight so he can head toward the door once the handshake is broken. There is no anxiety in his mannerisms; he is officially on the job and doesn't want to waste any time.

 "Da, only had to dig myself out of five-foot pit last time, not ten!" 'Masque replies to Max's inquiry, somehow contriving to make this sound as though it's a good thing rather than merely a less serious disaster, his cheerful voice instantly dropping at the arrival of the lieutenant, then falling completely silent as he begins to speak with no more than a nod sent towards the other soldier. He settles in to listen to the briefing before nodding in a firm, agreeable fashion and raising a hand to inquire "Lieutenant, are we needing to extricate prisoners by vehicle or is being means to magically transport them, then us out of site? Will make big difference how we are kitting up, youbet."

For Na-Wa the briefing mostly goes through one ear and out the other as he vacantly stares at the ceiling or a wall.

Heinrich shook the offered hand, "See you in thirty Max. I'm Heinrich."

To their commanding officer he asked, "Will I be allowed to fly this time, or do you need me to stay small?"

Jack snorted at Max after the other man looked at him. He didn't care what the little man thought of him. He stood up and stretched fully. He supposed he would have to hitch a ride again with someone if he wasn't allowed to fly.

Max heads out of the mess hall. He spends some time dealing with Zed, then gets his hovercraft from down the hill.

He parks close up to the main staging area with the hatch open, waiting for the rest of the platoon. In the meantime, he personalizes his new Quebec body armour by prying off any insignias and spraying flat black paint over anything shiny.

The shifter approaches while Max is working on his body armour. "I believe the psychic, Heinrich took you up on the offer of transport, which would mean you currently still have 1 spot available?"