Drano
Silvermasque
Van
Forge
Calliandra
Comartin
McCloud
Amy
Shimrod
Mephisto
Hopper
Karnon
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:15, Sat 20 June 2009.

Comartin is excited to upgrade his armour. He opts for a set of vibro claws as opposed to a retractable sword.

He is also eager to get to know his squad mates better, and makes his way to meet up with 'Masque.

 Lunch for a giant Russian cyborg that's walked around half the planet and been shunted around most of the rest by a wide assortment of unpleasant people, explosions and inexplicable magical incidents, consists of several different kinds of nutrient paste and an unhappy expression - the ability to tear a hole in the side of a tank is, frankly, no substitute for the ability to really enjoy a good steak.

 On the other hand, he can still drink - not even the most demented warlord would have tried to take that away from his most loyal followers.

 Sitting peacably in a low crouch at the end of a table in the Rec Room that's part of the Pluto Company barracks when they're in town (which is saved from being a 'wreck' hall only by virtue of the presence of a pool table missing three of its balls, a dartboard with several bullet holes in it and a computer terminal that might, on a good day be coerced into running Pac-man 3D, 'Masque is waiting for people with a couple of bottles of genuine potato squeezings, a small stack of record chips and a portable computer, which he's idly tapping at as Comartin rolls on in...

He finds a place to sit near 'Masque and starts talking. "The suit's in the shop, can't friggin wait until it is ready you know? I wanna go shoot some shit with it right away..."

he pauses before changing topics. "So... I didn't bring grub or drinks... I can't handle another meal of rations... not while I am in Tolkeen. We need one of the other guys to bring something back..."

over the radio... "Hey Shimrod, can you grab us some grub, beer and maybe some vodka for our new LT?"

His attention returns to 'Masque. "So, what's it like being a cyborg?"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:20, Sat 20 June 2009.

 "Dear mother Matushka, save me from enthusiast..." remarks 'Masque wryly, raising one of the four hands available to him to briefly cover the impassive visor that's his means if viewing the world as though Comartin's appearance is somehow just too much for him, before chuckling softly and extending a second hand politely whilst the third comes up with a slim bottle that sloshes hearteningly in a 'you will regret drinking this in the morning' kind of way.

 "Did you end up going with big, unwieldy particle rifle in end or settle on inbuilt particle beam for when boom gun is too much gun?" he asks in the brief period when Comartin isn't talking, addressing the question afterwards with a low, deep chuckle... "Is being pretty good most of time - not so much here in America, but at home - is like being Cyber-knight. Only best and bravest are given chance to wear white tiger." - he lightly slaps his armoured chest with one hand, "Though are being times when I would kill for chance to eat steak again."

In repsonse to the particle beam question "Built in. It wont get blown up when I get covered in missiles again...". He shakes his head no at the offer of Silvermasque's drink "Maybe when the food gets here... I can't drink hard stuff on an empty stomach"

Van takes a shower.
PM

A tall, lanky marble-skinned D-Bee walks into the room and sets down a small satchel by a chair before sitting with Comartin and Silvermasque.

"Greetings, my name is Mah. I am looking for Lieutenant Lynn, Pluto Company Squad Two... do you know her location so that I may report for duty?"

Another even stranger D-Bee follows just behind Mah. He is a 7 foot tall grasshopper, wearing armour, and carrying several energy weapons...

"I am Hopper, I am here for Squad Three... Silvermasque?"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:37, Sat 20 June 2009.

 "Is probably wise decision." answers 'Masque, tipping a finger or so of the highly suspicious fluid into a glass and setting it alight with the casual pass of a spark-test from some sort of cybernetic device built into one hand, whereupon it burns with an alarmingly high-test blue flame which he casually blows out before downing it - the arrival of two new folks brings his head up and he offers a smooth nod to both, "Am not knowing about Portia, but she should be contactable with squad channel - if you are having transfer paperwork, I will be giving you codes." he states to the first arrival, before fixing the second with a slightly tilted head and a low chuckle.

 "I guess it is to be taking all sorts, da? - I am being 'Masque - be drawing yourself up a seat if you are sitting." - half-turning he fishes out another glass and sets it on the table nearby and makes to pour before pausing and giving the tall grasshopper-like creature another look, "Is your sort being able to metabolise alcohol?"

Drano retuning from the Mars Company laager walks into the recreation room and pulls a bottle of booze out of the refrigerator. He takes swig then sits down. He ignores the new arrivals for now, but observes the two dee-bees.

Quietly having just seen Drano entering ahead of her so as not to draw his attention a short D-Bee barely topping 4'6" and looking like a very small mix between a cheetah and a woman Amy slips into the rec room.  Glancing around the various tables she doesn't immediately find herself a seat but drifts along the walls for a bit watching the rest looking for a friendly looking group.

Hopper moves in closer to Silvermasque, reaching out towards his face with his antennae.

"I have had a drink or two in my time of living... Not usually this early in the day however... but I will not risk ruining my first impression by refusing my first gift."

Hopper gladly accepts the drink, but then coughs and swallows for the next few seconds until the burning in his throat goes away.

Mah provides Silvermasque with a palm computer with his orders and such info, in hopes of getting the radio channel to contact Portia.

 Alright, so it's just a little bit freaky - but in the past few months, 'Masque has kind of gotten used to that, and if the weird alien bug gets frisky, that's what flamethrowers are for. The big synthetic-skinned Tiger tilts his head forwards a little to let the creature prod him gently with its antennae and then tilts back, extending a glass and chuckling wryly when the 'bug finds itself unable to speak for several minutes, gently patting it on one shoulder as it splutters and offering a warm, "Is good, yes - be putting hair on your chest like razorwire fence!"

 With this unhelpful benediction he extends another hand to Mah and accepts the palmtop, casting a quick eye over it in order to confirm that the fellow is in fact in the right place, checks any code-stamps against the orders of the day and then extends a self-guiding datajack which slots home in the side of the box and updates it appropriately with the squad frequencies so that the thing can get in touch with its new officer. Unjacking and spinning the computer he offers it back to its owner, "That should be seeing you right - welcome to Pluto Company, and good luck."

Hopper stands up straight after a few moments, forcing a quick recovery.

"Yes it was very... it was ... I just I think... I think I just... need to... have a drink I think... of water..." Hopper staggers his way over to a water cooler and spills water all over his feet and the cup he was trying to fill. He rests one arm on the cooler and his head starts to bob as if he is falling asleep.

Continuing to drink whisky straight from the bottle Drano looks over to the grasshopper Dee-bee, and wonders if the booze poisoned the poor thing.

“Hey, uhh Grasshopper, you got a name? You going to be okay? If the booze hurts you you don't have to drink it to fit in.”
This message was last edited by the player at 20:13, Mon 22 June 2009.

Mah nods his head to Silvermasque. "Thanks you sir, good luck to you as well... though, I imagine we will see more of each other. I am a gifted healer by nature, and will likely visit your squad on more than one occasion during those darker moments of war... Until then however..."

He then walks out of the room towards the crew quarters of Squad Two.

PM

 "I was asking first whether his sort is being able to handle alcohol - maybe is just having low tolerence..." 'Masque states, turning his head for a moment to watch the Amana stepping out of the room and raising his voice just a touch to call "Hey, Moh - before you are going, could you just be reassuring us that Jiminy is going to be okay?"

Amy seeing the odd grasshopper man go down hurries over towards him despite Drano's proximity. "Hey here let me help." Though she slows as she reaches him cocking her head to observe him carefully as she finds his cup to fill it with water.

"Ah... thank you my dear... perhaps I should sit down..." He grabs onto Amy's arm while he makes his way to a chair. His antennae move Amy's hair out of the way to touch her face on the way.

Once he is seated, he gladly takes the cup of water and looks around the room at the others. His head wobbles a bit, but other than that he seems ok...

Shimrod looks for a clear area by the tables to set down the beer and hot food. He listens to the others talking at first, and finds himself a chair.

"There we go Silvermasque, now I will have one of your death drinks..." Comartin digs into the food right away and eagerly awaits Masque to pour him a drink.

Drano gets up and leaves the rec room, bottle of booze still in hand.

 "Ah good, you are being other RPA pilot we are having in squad, yes?" asks 'Masque of the Kittani as he arrives, making room by shuffling over a little and then pouring a few fingers of the clear lighter fluid in his bottle into each offered glass, which promptly frosts with condensation because there is only one way to drink vodka, and that's cold.

 He does look up as the radio signal goes out, but without having received further clarification to the contrary, he's fairly certain that 'squad leader' means 'Drano' at the moment and goes back to getting to know his associates, "May I be asking what sort of modifications you are having to suit?" he asks of Shimrod.

Amy twitches a little as the antenni brush across her fur but she doesn't flinch away and settles next to him. "So um, what is your name, I'm Amy Wayland-Yutani." Offering her hand

McCloud barges into the rec room, beaming happily despite the obvious signs that he's suffering the after-effects of a long night of pickling his organs.

"Mornin' folks," he says, cheerily, nabbing himself some coffee and liberally spooning heaping amounts of sugar into the steaming beverage.  He sits by Comartin and sips at his mug, wincing.  "More sugar" he mutters, dumping in another half-dozen spoonfuls.

Van eventually comes out of the shower. He seems frustrated. After getting dressed he grabs his bag of pot and a seat at the long mess-hall table. He rolls up a dubious blunt. "So anybody wanna talk about it?" he states in the mocking tone of a post-trauma psychologist, "Downstairs was pretty uneventful. I don't even know what was going on above ground. Did we lose anybody out there?"

In response to Van "I know 4th lost a few during the fight. 3rd and 5th didn't lose anyone. Nobody died anyway... Cannon Fodder teleported out to avoid being over run by the CS. Doc and feral were fired... That's about it."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:32, Wed 24 June 2009.

In response to Amy "I go by Hopper, though I am sure I have just earned a new nickname among the troops."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:32, Wed 24 June 2009.

Drano enters the rec room and makes an announcement, bottle of booze still in hand but now only one quarter full. “Listen up; we’re moving out tonight at 1600 hours. Can’t say where, just make sure you take care of any unfinished business you may have such as a will or procreating.”

“Don’t be late, because we will leave without you and at that point I will consider you a deserter.”

"Are you serious? We just got here..."

It's as though the joy was literally sucked out of the room when Drano informed everyone that they were going back out.

Mephisto and Private Karnon are still off somewhere in Tolkeen together, and the new sergeant (Forge) was presumably still with Mars Company.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:33, Wed 24 June 2009.

 "I am pretty much past point where talking is going to be much help - plan is currently that after I am settling in new squad members and getting to know what they are and can do, will be getting good and drunk together. We are telling lies about how brave we are, singing off our dead - cry if we need to, laugh when we can, da?" 'Masque states as lightly, a terrifyingly powerful hand sheathed in synthetic fur 'dongs' off his chest in an almost playful fashion, belying the seriousness underlying the words, "Even with heart made of titanium and teflon, am knowing that is bad for to be bottling up too much insi..."

 And that's just when Drano comes in and makes his announcement, causing a grimace and a spattering of extremely unfriendly-sounding and thickly accented Russian to emnate from 'Masque's corner before he raises his voice a little and addresses Drano directly - though in a slightly more constructive fashion than Conmartin "Is better this is being joke - are still not having met most of new squad members, let alone shaken down into squad. What is being so important it is pulling us from our beauty sleep?"

 Slightly.

"1600?! Fuck that's not even tonight. That's lunch man!" Van continues to roll his blunt and despite looking forward to some of the activities that Drano mentioned (specifically the procreating), he really can't think of what else he'd rather do. "Whatever man. The more skullfaces we rack up the sooner this shit is over."

Even as he says it though, he gets the sinking feeling that it will never really be over. To live is to fight. He is glad to be learning that at his young age.

"Maaaaan..." McCloud gripes.  "The welds won't even be cool on my suit's new upgrades by 1600..."

Karnon spends his private time working, writing scrolls and crafting talismans of protection for the foot soldiers with the remaining arcane supplies Tolkeen can afford to him. He worked with great elementals by his side fueling their arcane energies, more capable of filtering it out of the great ley lines and faster than he himself could.

The message was received like any other, and the news was frankly expected. It was more work. But all the work meant dead men. So Karnon worked harder until it was time to teleport himself and his elementals back to the rest of the squad at 1600 hours.

The wolfen mage located Lt. Drano and handed over a number of amulets and explaining how any of the ground troops could use them to summon sheaths of magical armor around them. Each amulet good for three shots, but Karnon had made enough for each soldier in the platoon to get more than one. Their squads needed every edge to stay alive they could get. The new recruits needed time to get used to the death, and the veterans would stay alive longer to kill more of the other guys longer. And Karnon wanted the Coalition boys dead really really bad.

Drano thanks the Wolfen for his hard work and ensures each member of Third Squad who is capable of using them receives two of the amulets when they arrive at 1600.

Shimrod nods at Silvermasque, "I managed to skate out of Atlantis after a confusing ocean battle with some beasties. I'm obviously pleased at the escape, but the only problem? We were on a standard recon mission, so I only got out with a standard K-Uni. Too bad it wasn't an S&D mission...then I'd be sporting my Serpent instead of this serviceable piece of generica." Shimrod sighs longingly, "I'd outfitted her with some Eylor shards and other fun Atlantean bio-toys. Nastiness! Haven't had time or resources to do a damn thing with the Uni. Yet."

Amy nods to the bug man.  "Well Jimminy is a fun name, I hope your up to being our convince." whispering she adds, "I think Drano needs one."

 "Is not so good that - Kittani suits are nice and all, but ones I have been seeing are built for look and ease of maintainance rather than toughness. We'll go over to armourer in minute and maybe see about getting you a mini-missile pack and maybe some sensors." replies 'Masque quietly as the Kittani makes his offer, revealing in the process a definite familiarity with front-line Kittani power armour.

 He then holds up a hand to ask for 'a moment' and turns back to Drano as Karnon finishes handing out the candy, raising his voice a little to ask, "Well, what is?" - presumably amplifying his earlier question.

Hopper looks to be recovering from the drink he had a few minutes ago. Then, speaking to Silvermasque he says "They told me you have a small aircraft of some kind. I have extensive experience using on-board weapon systems. When we are not venturing through a jungle or a desert, I would imagine I would be put to good use on that ship of yours..."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:04, Thu 25 June 2009.

 "Not me... pretty little cat-girl who talks funny sitting beside you." declares 'Masque in response to Hoppers question, though he doesn't really take his visor off Drano while he waits for a response.

After handing the amulets t Silvermasque Drano explians what they are.

"It's an amulet that places a magical armor around you. As a  full convert borg are you able to use them? If not I will make sure someone else gets them."

Amy perks up at the change in conversation and puts in.  "Thats right, I've got my pelican.  She's wonderful, though maybe a little under armed for the kinds of things Drano expects of her.  She's a transport not a gunboat."

 'Masque takes the amulet and looks at it for a moment before shrugging and dropping it into a pocket of his BDU's, "Is only one way to be finding out." he states simply before fixing Drano with a 'don't evade the issue' stare (which might be more effective if the big tiger had eyes), "But was not what I was asking - what is being so important that we are being rousted out of well-earned rest to go play soldier some more?"

"We will discuss the details at the briefing, with the Captain. For now, finish up whatever you need to finish up before we head back out. I will see you all there at 1600 sharp."

Squad Three is the first to arrive at 1600 hours. Even the Captain is nowhere to be seen just yet. The other squads start to arrive between 1630 and 1645. Captain Viktor makes his way to a map of Tolkeen Kingdom, on a stand, large enough for all to see. He waits for 3rd Platoon to stand at attention before starting the briefing.

Everyone's vehicles are parked near-by, and several young Tolkeen children are playing on top of Amy's dropship. One boy is wearing a cut out mask of a skull chasing the others on top of the ship shouting "genocide!" at the others, while they all laugh, and continue to play unsafely.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:20, Sun 28 June 2009.

Viktor begins the briefing at 1657 hours, with all four squads giving him their full attention.

"I want to apologise for pullig you all out of your time off. I don't like it any more than you do, but orders are orders. We are heading to Freehold first to join with a small party of dragons, before heading out on our mission first thing tomorrow morning. We will be assaulting a Coalition base just north west of the ruins of Madtown with the dragons. We will attack in four groups from the north west, with Drano and Portia taking their squads inside a Coalition sympathising town, for a surgical strike, while 1st move out with the dragons, looking for a specific flying battle-station that is currently sitting at this base. Squad Four will hang back at a designated area, to cover our retreat when our tasks are complete. Our recon on this area is obsolete for the most part, and as such we will need to decipher the situation better when we arrive.

In addition to this assault, there are a small group of Tolkeen deserters planning on releasing information to the Dead Boys. They are headed to the same outpost, and we are to intercept them before they arrive, and kill or capture every last one of them. The officers are being supplied with a personal coputer with profiles on the groups leaders, and a general information roster on their troops.

Are there any intelligent questions before we head out?"

 Drano's answer is of course absolutely no use at all - but given the firmly moral streak that 'Masque has demonstrated in the past, it might very well be the best tack to take. It's pretty certain after all that if the big Russian 'Borg didn't like the idea of desecrating corpses he's really going to flip out over what amount to black operations.

 Not that Pluto Company isn't fully capable of dealing with such a flip-out of course, but it might be a singularly awkward thing to happen in the middle of a battle.

 Once at the meeting he listens, but quite simply doesn't have any meaningful questions - the intelligence on the area is out of date so it's a case of 'if we had it, you'd get it' while there's a table of organisation for the deserters available if he's just patient.

 As a result he spends most of the meeting quietly making notes and mentally running through his team's abilities and potential.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:43, Sun 28 June 2009.

Shimrod listens intently to the briefing, and has nothing to add. Although his leave was extremely brief, this was still a far cry from the ironclad discipline he was trained under in Atlantis. His only regret was being unable to commiserate with 'Masque over his power armor...for a non-Atlantean, he had displayed a decent knowledge of Kittani weaponry and looking at his highly non-standard gear it was obvious he was creative as well. Combining this knowledge with Shimrod's own genetic heritage and psychic connection with machines could have resulted in some fucking possibilities!

Mephisto stood and listened to the Captain, it sounded like another routine mission. The shifter's thoughts wandered to what may happen during the mission, and was reminded that he would have to put his life in Amy's hands while he was in her ship... He did not like this at all.

   Forge arrived at the briefing after most of the rest of squad three.  She saw her new C/O, Drano and figured the ragtag bunch near him would be her new comrades.  She took a seat near them, but towards the back, eying them carefully, trying to figure out how bad this was going to be.  As the briefing began, Forge listened to the captain and watched the members of squad three.

   Forge raised her hand when the captain asked for intelligent questions.  "Is there any chance of requisitioning some special equipment for this mission, sir?  Depending on the parameters of the surgical strike, I have some ideas."

After waiting 15, 30...eventually 45 minutes, Van finds it difficult to hold his tongue. "Respectfully sir, while I appreciate punctuality as much as the next son of a bitch, the past hour could have been put to better use preparing at the ley line."

Finding out that their leisure time was getting severely 'rationed' he opted to stow the blunt away for another time. Van offers no intelligent questions after the briefing, simply shoulders his pack, steps onto his wing board, and readies to set sail.

"Hey McCloud? You as stoked as me to get out there and try out these new additions? I was getting bored killing Dead Boy after Dead Boy, but now there is nothing I would want more than to have one of those little pussies in my sight again..."

Comartin showed up to the briefinginside his newly modified Glitter Boy. He was very proud of the new additions and he had just had it washed as well, so it was extra glittery...
This message was last edited by the player at 12:27, Mon 29 June 2009.

On this world, Hopper found that he had more in common with the other various travelers to this land, rather than the native humans. As such he would have introduced himself with Karnon... yet there was something dark about the wolfen that kept Hopper away... and so he stood with Amy. Afterall, he liked the way her fur felt when he touched her face with his antennae.

Hopper turned to face Amy after the Captain was done speaking. He reached out to feel her face once more. "I hope Mah is ok with his new team mates... we went through training together after Tolkeen put out the call for extra pay for special-skilled soldiers, and citizenship in Tolkeen after the war. I hope everyone makes it out ok for that matter... how long have you been in the company Amy? Have you seen anyone die?"

In his own newly upgraded GB, McCloud is less enthusiastic.  "Were you listening?  Madtown, man.  If it weren't for the war there's no way I'd get within a hundred miles of that place..." he can't repress the shudder that runs up his spine.

"Wonder if Osema's crew is still mounted," Van muses. Ah memories.

her whiskers twitching slightly at hoppers continued brushing she thinks a moment before responding.  "Mmm, yes,"  She nods though she doesn't sound particularly enthused about it. "I've been with them since my home outside madtown was over run.  It was pretty bad there, I would rather not discuss it."

Hopper is taken back by Amy's response, and replies with "Oh, my apologies for bringing it up...". He then looks to the others to see if they will be heading out soon... before this conversation with Amy turns into an uncomfortable silence...

In response to Forge "Well, Sergeant we can try... what did you have in mind?"

 Creative, heavily modified and quite patently armed to the teeth - of all the many and varied soldiery of Pluto company it's possible that 'Masque has the most actual hours in actual mass combat, even if most of that has consisted of hunkering down in a crater whilst staggering amounts of firepower explode on all sides.

 He looks up and over the squad whilst assorted people vent their frustrations, having long since become accustomed to the universal military bullshit that crosses species and cultural lines more readily than anything other than actual bullets - 'hurry up and wait', 'need to know' and 'support will be provided'.

 Forge gets a glance however - having another full-conversion (albeit a rather less full conversion) in the team) should be interesting on its own merits, but finding out how their mind works when it comes to quick ideas and special weapons is worthwhile at any time.

   "I would like to obtain one military grade transport truck equipped with a flatbed loading crane and a simple civilian-class automobile." Forge responds to the captain right away, ready to provide an explanation or be called aside for further discussion if necessary.

"Well ah, what about you, not the how long thing but well when did you come here, this dimension I mean, if you weren't born here..."  the particularly short cat woman trails off as she realizes that could be just as delicate a question.

Viktor chuckles at first before responding to Forge again. "We can probably get you a car of some sort, but this truck with a crane business is just rediculous. Especially since we are leaving shortly... my apologies sergeant."

"My family brought me here when I was just a youngling... I don't remember our world very well... I am twenty two years old now... spent all of it here in Tolkeen Kingdom working as a groundskeeper on several farms just outside the City walls."

"Understood sir." Forge responds.  I suppose he's not interested in recovering or salvaging any CS equipment - or any of our own that may get damaged.

Forge awaits the order to be dismissed.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:14, Thu 02 July 2009.

A civilian car, named "The Tolkeen Family Transport" is soon driven out to Third Platoon's gathering. A stock-hand gets out and tosses the large ignition key to Segeant Forge, before jogging off back to the barracks.

The brown car is like a very boxy-shaped version of a car from the 21st century. It drives on wheels and has a maximum speed of 120 kilometers per hour. It runs on a battery, and there are 3 extra batteries in the trunk.

"So what is Tolkeen like?  I've only ever seen it in quick bits and while passing through, and well the little bit of it today"  She asks Hopper clearly the hope that its a decent place in her voice.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:25, Sun 05 July 2009.

Without any further questions or delays, all eight platoons of Pluto Company head out from Tolkeen, on their short and hopefully uneventful journey to Freehold, City of Dragons. With just under 250 soldiers, the Coalition would likely have to have ten times as many troops in order to stage a legitimate attack... although that doesn't rule it out, and there is always the possibility of running into an unprepared unit, which could still cause a disturbance. However with thousands of reinforcements in the area, Pluto Company is relatively safe.

The road to Freehold, is a busy road. All kinds of soldiers, mercenaries and civilians are constantly moving between the two cities, on a very wide, paved road. There are small bunkers and stationary weapons all along, and hundreds of troops who have yet to even see combat. They are just waiting for the inevitable moment when the Coalition forces will come into sight on the horizon... Many of the Cyber Knights have taken on this duty of "home defense" rather than partaking in the crimes of humanity and the horrors of war that Tolkeen has found itself increasingly comfortable with.

So far... the journey is mostly quiet...

 The logistics of moving a group like Pluto Company are complicated enough to make someones head pound, but fortunately with the contraction of the unit after the recent weeks of hard fighting, 'Masque only has to worry about Squad Three's second fireteam (which is to say, himself, Van, Comartin, Shimrod, Forge and whichever one of the two new fish Drano sends his way)...

 Of course, Comartin's got his glitterboy and Shimrod his Kittani PA suit. Forge and 'Masque are full-conversions and can keep up with the glitterboy (Van, I could do with knowing how you get around old boy - and whether you're in funky armour or not)... But between them and the car they're a little too much mass to fit easily in the dropship, particularly with the car.

 For this short walk through friendly territory he does his best to keep folks together and stretch no legs, rather drifting from soldier to soldier on his short list and sizing them up with the intention of organising them into three complementary pairs for actual combat, "So much for time off - I am thinking this is being good time to be working out who is best working with who if trouble happens. Is anyone having preferences to be voicing, or shall we be drawing short straws to see who is having to stare at fine Russian ass all march?" - as he asks this, one gauntleted hand slaps with a firm 'smack' against an armoured buttock.

   Forge sneers at the primitive piece of machinery presented to her, while facing away from the Captain of course.  I'm not driving this. Forge thinks to herself before strolling over to one of the hovercycles and checking it over thoroughly, giving away some of her mechanical knowledge.

   She'll take the one she thinks is in the best condition.

   Although Forge is obviously more machine than human, anyone with a familiarity with bionics can see she is quite a bit lighter than most models.  She probably can't outrun a car, let alone lift one.  She even wears armour, which she will don before heading out.  Her body construction does not match the design of any yet seen inside the borders of Tolkeen, nor is it similar to the slavic white tiger's Pluto Company has come to love.  Without any of the lieutenants actually introducing her to the company, she decides it is probably for the best.  She'll wait for her first squad assignment to get to know her new comrades.

   When approached by Silvermasque during their travel, she is riding her hovercycle, laden with tools and equipment.  She certainly isn't going to be flying within ass-slapping range but will engage him in conversation all the same.  Obviously, she doesn't have any preferred partners yet...

 Fortunately, it was his own backside 'Masque was slapping, as could readily be determined by the use of the phrase 'fine Russian ass', though to be strictly fair, the amount of trauma the use of that phrase in relation to the big cyborg tiger could cause is justification for any amount of confusion.

 Obviously, being new means that Forge doesn't know anyone well enough to set preferences, so the squad's mercenary officer sets to correcting the situation with an amiable wave of one heavy arm at the hovercycle (while he jogs smoothly alongside it), "You are being closest thing I have seen to Light Machine since I have been arriving here - since you will be in my fireteam, could you be telling me what sort of augmentation and training you are having, better to be working you in with team?"

   With the wind rushing past, the roar of the hovercycle and the stomping footfalls of Silvermasque, Forge speaks to him over the radio.  It is interesting to note however that her voice seems to be transmitted entirely electronically as her lips do not move.
"I am an engineer and cyberneticist with a focus on field military applications.  My augmentations include several devices which assist with these functions, such as computer-interfaces, construction tools, and design/simulation programs.  My body is hardened for field use, although it hasn't proven effective against the weapons of this region, hence the need for body armour, unlike most cyborgs I've met.  I haven't had the opportunity to construct a new exoskeleton yet.  I can still carry a rifle and I am a good marksman, but I prefer to use my expertise either in support of our personnel or in sabotage of the enemy."

 Each of the long, flowing strides that 'Masque takes covers a good twenty or thirty feet depending upon just how fast the convoy is moving, but the curious thing from a cybertechnicians viewpoint is just how little noise he actually makes - he's not quiet as such, but there just isn't the sound of two tonnes of fast-moving metal rising and falling the way their ought to be - which rather suggests a devotion to stealth both unusual in North American full conversions and rather on the optimistic side given what it's installed in.

 Smoothly, he goes from cyberaudio-and-vocals to short-burst radio, though it does nothing for his atrocious accent, "Is good - we will be pairing you up with someone who is providing fire support. If we are needing it I am also carrying about thirty pounds of assorted demo in webbing" - the same hand that slapped his ass lightly indicates a couple of distinct pouches on the rear of his equipment, in case it should be needed. - "Are you checked out on heavy projectile weapons, or just energy cannons?"

 ---

 Small point - any chance of a description for Forge? - something that includes visible 'kit for example, so I don't have to ask questions I could just answer by looking? Please? ^_^

Shimrod feels right at home among the polyglot community of Tolkeen's finest - Atlantis was something of a dimensional waypoint, so exposure to all sorts of strangeness is nothing new for him. There are moments he regrets no longer being one of the higher caste members, but this quickly dissipates when he remembers how much relative freedom he has in this military hierarchy. Mostly, he's interested in the weaponry...he eagerly anticipates getting a decent look at some Triax equipment, since he recalls a couple of skirmishes with the NGR that surprised him with their difficulty. So far he hasn't run into anything notable.

   Under the scrutiny of ''Masque's bionic eyes, he is able to discern several things about Forge's mechanical body.  Most prominent would be the splotches of rust.  Most modern materials used in cybernetics are highly resistant to corrosion and finding a rusty borg is very rare.  Secondly, 'Masque would probably notice the complete lack of hydraulics and that her body uses an older system of electric servos and synthetic myomeres.  This would result in a high level of small movement dexterity but a significant lack of lifting capacity compared to most other bionic bodies.  Third would be the rows of data ports lining her back and neck.  There are more data ports, similar to cyberjacks, on both forearms.  In fact, Forge is currently jacked in to the hovercycle's computer via a wire running from her waist into the control console.  The final item which seems out of the ordinary are Forge's eyes.  They appear completely organic.  Deciding to undergo full bionic conversion without enhancing the primary method a person uses to interact with the world would seem like a waste to most, unless they are just a very lifelike cyber-imitation.
   Forge appears to have no built-in weapon systems, other than a welding torch in each of her forearms.  But she does have a few pieces of equipment stowed with her on the hovercycle including a JA-12 pulse laser, two Long Pistols, something that looks like a forearm-mounted grappling hook, a modified bionic tentacle appendage that looks like it has been built into a robotic snake.  There is a grenade launcher, several boxes of various ammo and a large vibro sword mounted into a vambrace.
   "Yes, I can use heavy weapons, explosives, or any other mechanical device I've encountered so far"

OOC - there is also a picture of Forge in her char description.

 That's bionic eye, though the term might need to be stretched a little to encompass one of the major things about him that screams 'bionic soldier' rather than 'weird DBee' (though enough people have by now seen him with his artificial covering shot off for word to have gotten around) - the nearly wraparound visor that serves him in place of actual eyes.

 Whether he's bothered by just how different 'Forges form is is left to the imagination, though it's fairly certain that coming from a society that lionises the Cyborg Knight as his does he'd notice the distinctions, and on the private radio channel they're using, continues the conversation cheerfully, "Is good enough - we will tag you as marksman, maybe pair you up with Conmartin if you are having audio filters that can handle boom gun overpressure. When we are getting you back to Tolkeen, we will take you shopping, yes? - maybe be getting you shiny new plating and perhaps some clever gadgets to let you keep it shiny instead of all shot and scorched."


 At a different - though not terribly divergent point on the trip, the big 'Borg would be having a similar conversation with Shimrod of course, settling in to a comfortable jogging pace matched to that of the Kittani's manling power armour as he opens a short-range radio channel, "I have not been seeing one of your kind away from tentacle-heads oversight before now - am interested in comparing notes on differences between sort of war you have fought and sort I have fought - am guessing you are more used to having support like Tolkeen is having than I am."


 ---

 Curiously, I saw the picture when I looked for her description, and though very pretty it wasn't any help with the questions I wanted answered like 'weapons, armour, size, etc... but thanks for the update" ^_^
This message was last edited by the player at 18:42, Sat 04 July 2009.

Hopper rides along in the dropship with Amy and Mephisto. He stays up in the pilot's compartment with the others and continues his conversation with Amy. "What would you like to know about Tolkeen City? I have never been much of anywhere else, so I cannot think of anything to put in comparrison."

Calliandra jogs along in her JAPE armour next to Van. "I am glad that piece of shit Osema is dead, and I am glad the gargoyle deserted back at that facility. I fucking hate demons..."

now all dressed up in her terrain hopper armor which seems to be her flight suit given that the main seat appears to have a second set of straps specifically sized for her to wear it while piloting.  "Are they friendly there, accepting of you know, folk like us there?  I'm hoping to find a good spot to go if I make it through all this."

Mephisto interrupts the conversation between Amy and Hopper to answer this question before Hopper has the chance. "Tolkeen is very accepting of everyone... perhaps too accepting. This is why the Coalition are attacking in the first place. Fortunately for you, there will be plenty of vacancies when the war is over. You should have your choice of deserted homes to move into. That is of course assuming that there will be anything left of Tolkeen after the war..."

As they move out towards Freehold, Drano chooses not to join in on the conversation. Instead he thinks about the current state of the war, and how both sides have committed various atrocities. The nuking of Hillcrest by the CS, Tolkeen feeding CS prisoners to demons, and sacrificing others for mystical ceremonies. Soon, Drano thought things would spiral out of control.

Van hears Callie, though he seems to be a little tuned out. He recedes into his thoughts as he keeps pace with the group on his hover wing-board which he rides very casually. "Who am I to judge?" he answers vacantly from within his TW Dynamo Exoskeleton.


OOC -- Hopefully that answers Masque's questions about my appearance/transportation. If I could find a decent picture I'd put it up in my description.

Hopper is not insulted when Mephisto interrupts, but he adds "How could Tolkeen possibly lose? The Coalition are fighting a war on two fronts, they are many miles from their homes, and we have the home advantage. I would guess that the Coalition will pull out in a matter of months when they realize they can't get close enough to Tolkeen to win."

Coming from a race who has been fighting across dimensions for millenia, Shimrod doesn't necessarily share Hopper's optimism. A Single-minded war can lead to astonishing attrition. While the Coalition can't yet menace Tolkeen directly, Tolkeen is also nowhere near being able to attack Chi-Town.

   "What specifically do you mean by gadgets?"  Forge responds to Silvermasque, sounding more than a little offput by the suggestion.

 "Is depending upon what you are wanting." replies 'Masque on the same private radio channel, moving smoothly alongside the smaller 'borg, "You are probably having limited room for upgrade, but perhaps you would consider personal deflector shield - though is bit of energy hog, nichevo." - the last word comes with a bit of a shrug, all four arms flowing through the gesture, "Or maybe cyborg flight unit - they are telling me I am too heavy for it, but Kingsdale is producing functional wings - use cyberjet nodes built into stylish flight surfaces of choice - very fashionable."

   "I don't think I'll be accepting any body-modifications.  I do not believe the Tolkeen hierarchy grants officers the authority to force a soldier to accept them.  However, I am quite interested in constructing tools which can be carried outside my body.  I already have several and additional armour or flight capability would be quite helpful, I think."

 'Masque doesn't have the human-form eyes that would allow him to perform sidelong glances, but there's plenty of small actuators and synthetic muscle bundles built into that inhuman face of his that come into play when he looks sidelong at Forge, favouring her with a kind of somewhat appalled expression that can only really be described as being like one you'd see on a male employer who's just politely invited a new female co-worker to the company picnic and been warned off attempting to rape her in the long grass.

 Fortunately, 'Masque is fairly blunt and honest about such things, and after the double-take, flicks his visor skywards and goes on "Ooooh-kay, so you are having serious social adjustment issues - is okay, we are having all kinds of crazy in unit - is being no real budget for therapist or good priest. But sure, if you are prefering plug-in instead of installation, is fine - am mainly interested in trying to coordinate equipment and abilities of team. Is not like I am on comission."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:37, Thu 09 July 2009.

   "I apologize, you misunderstand.  I am not trying to adjust and therefore there is no social issue although I suppose it is ironic that you  imply I am crazy.  Regardless, the data ports on my body will allow me to communicate with most tools and weapons if I have the time to construct an interface.  I could probably find a method to interface with your bionics and correct your weight problem as it hinders flight, if time permits."
   Forge remains rather calm and seems interested in continuing this discussion.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:52, Thu 09 July 2009.

"Do you think it will be that well, short as well?"  Amy asks Mephisto after they hear Hopper's prognosis for the war.

 "Is perhaps my not having best grasp of American maybe, but it was seeming as though you were rather overeacting - I do not know what sort of squads you have been being in before, but would be considered excessive to march someone to shop and have them retrofitted against will."

 Again, the big tiger can't actually roll his eyes, but there's the distinct sense he'd like to as he adds, "If only because of what rest of squad might get up to while was being distracted..."

 His chuckle is a fairly amiable one however, which suggests that his complaint is more for form than in order to reflect reality, "Is not really my problem, is Kingsdales problem - is being no cyborg chasis even half my mass in service in American lands, so they are not producing flight system to scale - if I am really needing to be flying, I imagine I can be getting self nuclear jet pack maybe."

 "Anyhow" he states a moment later, waving one hand airily, "Apology accepted - when we are getting back will be taking whole fireteam to arms depot and talking over what we maybe need to load up with... Am getting kind of tired of needing tool no-one has been bringing - having five kinds of explosive charge and no lock picks, da?"

   Forge chuckles lightly. "Well,if you can't find a chasis you like in Kingsdale, there's no reason to stop looking elsewhere.  Let us say, I'm not exactly a native of this region.  Although the majority of my people share a physique of similar mass to my own, we do have some who outmass you by several thousand times.  I'm sure we can avoid a nuclear jet pack if, perhaps after all this is finished, I am able to contact them."
   Forge's demeanor seems to be changing as the conversation progresses.  She may be warming up to the overweight feline.
   "Do you have a list of these tools you need?  I have been learning how to pick mechanical locks and am getting better, but computer locks are not a problem.  Nor are explosives, by the way."

Continuing the discussion between Amy, Hopper and Mephisto on the drop ship : "Short? wars are never short, they go on until one side is defeated, or until enough time passes between battles for everyone involved to have passed on or completely forgotten about the conflict. In Tolkeen's case, this war will continue forever, until the Coalition are defeated, and unfortunately, Tolkeen does not have the ability to make that happen on their own."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:01, Fri 10 July 2009.

 "I am having some knack with explosives myself, but big sausage fingers are making disposal something of pain." replies 'Masque, wiggling one hand's worth of wickedly retractile-clawed fingers in the air expressively, the hand motion fluid and smooth, but since each digit is close in size to a small human wrist, they're obviously not suited for fine manipulation - he rumbles with good humour at the other suggestion however, and shakes his head wryly, "I am not being local either - many of company are not, but I am sure that if god was wanting giant cyborg tiger to fly he would be arranging it so I was having jet-powered rocket boots."

 "As for tools - is often being case of not knowing until we are knowing if you see what I mean. But I am thinking we should coordinate our weapon payloads better, particularly ammunition for kinetics, plus maybe look to arranging some kind of way to share sensor data between units... And better communications, we are spending too much time jammed or underground."

Continuing the discussion between Amy, Hopper and Mephisto on the drop ship :
"But, isn't there some better way to end things than just fighting till we grow old?  I don't want to do this forever, or die either one but the way you say those are my only choices."

Mephisto considers his answer for a few moments "Perhaps..." is all he says in return. Although he clearly looks like he doesn't believe that there is any chance his theory is wrong.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:36, Mon 13 July 2009.

      "Sharing sensor data and improving communications should be feasible.  This will require some expensive parts I believe, but something like a palm-top computer for everyone would be easiest.  And an interface for anyone with their own HUD.  Its too bad we're just leaving the city.  I guess we won't be getting resupplied for a while."

 "Is usually case - we are never seeming to know where are going before are getting there and never what is meaning to be have done until has been already happened." replies 'Masque, shrugging to go along with a sentence that's fatalistic, but unusually torturous even by his standards.

 "On other hand, idea was coming from combat computer system I was acquiring when out west playing cowboy. Takes feed from many different sensors and streamlines for operator - in this case, my beautiful self. I figure we buy similar software loadout, tinker to make work in personal belt computer of some kind, then get everyone heads-up for helmets or fancy glasses with overlays. Then maybe take few days to train up with - which is first place I can start being really useful."

 Another faint, resigned shrug follows, "Is kind of strange for me to be having to get used to so many soldiers wandering around barely able to see past end of nose - but maybe this will help some."

   "In regards to electronic counter measures, there are a few different solutions I can think of at the moment.  It might involve issuing new radios to everyone, but there is no perfect solution.  Someone will find a way to jam the signals somehow, sometime.  The best response would be to assign someone in our platoon to handle electronic counter measures live in order to make real-time adjustments such as frequency modulation.  This would at least minimize the duration of any communication disruptions."
   Forge appears to enjoy technical discussions and she sounds like she is imagining the designs for new technologies while she speaks.

 "Heh, is usually not electronic warfare we are running into - I am thinking Coalition do not wish to be giving us ideas when they are better at technology than Tolkeen forces... No, is things like half of group being underground or trying to punch signal through ley-line static that are giving us problem." replies the big 'borg, not so much being a technical sort himself, as someone who appreciates a good, robust, duct-taped solution to a problem (so long as it isn't some mental defective trying to strap particle beam cannons into a four-pack).

<img src="http://img43.imageshack.us/img43/448/riftsfreehold.jpg"align="left"> FREEHOLD, City of Dragons is known to be a city-state ruled by the infamous Dragon Kings, and as such, is a haven for dragons, and other creatures of magic and inhuman character. It is believed that there are over 150 dragons living in Freehold, some say over 500, with 10 ancient dragons in power. Nobody really seems to know how many there are at all. Freehold is really two cities in one. The Outer City where most of the non-dragons live, and the Inner City, or City of Dragons where most of the dragons live. The whole City is roughly 2/3 the size of Tolkeen, with maybe 20% of her population.

Freehold is built on a man-made island. The outer walls are 60 feet tall, the inner walls are over 200 feet tall, and half that thick. And surprisingly enough there are no defenses anywhere to be seen. Not even outside the City walls. It's as though Freehold is pretending there is no war...

The Outer City is surrounded by a castle-like wall, and Inner City is surrounded by even bigger castle walls. There are residential homes, and markets just like Tolkeen between the two walls. There are Dragon statues, paintings, sculptures, and art of all kinds everywhere. Some buildings are constructed to look like giant Dragon Kings, and children everywhere are wearing leather Dragon costumes, and chasing each other, pretending to fly and breathe fire. There are mages, and magic shops of every sort, weapons and armour, repair and demonic hide outs are spread all around the Outer City. (unfortunately you don't get any discounts here...). The majority of the people are human, with a large amount of gargoyles and Brodkil. There is a sizeable Simvan population as well as tens of thousands of other Dimensional Beings.

Pluto Company travels right up to the main gates in the South Wall. The giant gates appear to open on their own, and close again when they are all through.

Dragons can be seen flying around above the Inner City, and some are resting on high towers, with their wings or tails hanging down off the sides.

A short transmission comes in over the radio. Major Karno says "Hold up here".

Some of the other soldiers sit down, or lean against buildings while waiting for the major to come back with orders.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:32, Thu 16 July 2009.

Van slows his wing-board down and casually cruises from side to side, taking in the sheer size of everything with trepidation, knowing he can anticipate dragon sightings. "Man, this shit is serious."

He pops off his helmet to get a better look at the place, and to slip a blunt into his lips. He lights it up and then pass to Callie on the left hand side. "After all when are we gonna be here again?"

The dropship is directed to land in a vehicle bay a few hunred feet from the main gate. It is a wide open parking lot, almost full of civilian and military vehicles. Amy, Mephisto and Hopper will have to walk to the others.

Van's jaw drops a bit. The potent Tolkeen Green has him well amused by the whole situation. "Holy shit, man," he begins, "Everybody here's got their own airship."

He takes a quick jaunt up, climbing to an altitude of 100ft. Just enough to get a decent look without getting in the way of air traffic. He tries to get a sense of just how many dragons are here. "Mutherfuckin' dragons yo," he says quietly to himself from his serene view.

Drano halted his people, exited his mecha and called them to a semi-circle. Once those fromt he drop ship arrives he speaks. “Listen up I know I didn’t go into detail before we left. I’m not sure how ling we will be here so if we are placed on standby I won’t everyone to travel in pairs and to keep their radios on at all times.”

"After we are done here we will be heading out to a CS outpost, with the intent to destroy it with some magic device I was given. Those in the outpost are no longer loyal to Tolkeen and the free thinking way of life, so kill any combatants you may see. Civilians will simply be casualties of war.”

“There is also a renegade Tolkeen unit operating in the area led by former Captain Theodore Kitt. His second in command is former Lieutenant Dragana Kovacevic. Both are shifters and their renagade unit has killed several groups of Tolkeen soldiers already. Intel says they are on their way to the outpost with the intention of selling information in exchange for free passage away from the warzone.”

Pulling out a note pad Drano then reads off the composition of the renegade Tolkeen unit. “Theodore Kitt’s renegade unit is composed of the following members:
7 or 8 mages
3 or 4 full conversion cyborgs
Drake - a seasoned mind melter
2 Dragon Fly Juggernauts
6 or 7 Battle Mages
Renszath, a Raksasha Demon
10 various rifle men
5 master psychics
6 gargoyles
2 Mystic Knights
1 High Magus, and his Colossus Automaton from Dweomer.”

He then add a few last words before answering any questions. “Remember they have chosen their path and are not to be afforded the opportunity to surrender, as I doubt they will offer it when your lying on the ground bleeding and begging for your life to be spared.”

"Sir," McCloud chimes in, still in his GB.  "I recognize the necessity of what we're doing, but I ain't comfortable with the idea of killing civilians, even Coalition civilians.  Shooting civvies makes me feel, I dunno, like a Dead Boy or something, y'know?"

Even though he’d been with McCloud for some time, sometimes the guy was dense. "I didn't say shoot civilians, I said shoot the combatants."

 "Reading between lines, is sounding like rules of engagement are simple - you are allowed to shout 'duck' to civilians, but don't wait around for them to find pillow to dive on... Otherwise, is open season on anything that is looking armed." translates 'Masque amiably, himself no happier about the idea of shooting up a settlement, but the phrase 'C.S. Outpost' seems to suggest that it's got at least some degree of military significance, "More important though - magic device. Is something we are going to need to clear big space around before we can let off, or is safe to try little in-and-out dropoff?"

"Silvermasque your correct regarding the ROE.....as for the device we need to be about two kilometers away from the magic device before it goes off.”

"I was just looking for clarification, sir," McCloud replies somewhat churlishly to Drano's harsh response.  "And I want to go on record as sayin' that if someone surrenders or is an obvious non-combatant, I ain't gonna kill 'em."  That defiant, mouthy streak of his that kept getting his chops busted was surfacing again, but dammit, he was raised to believe in the ideals of a Glitterboy pilot, and he felt that certain rules of behavior needed to be abided by.  "A fight's one thing, but I ain't a murderer."

OOC: As far as I know...  Ah the joys of inheriting a character... ;)

Still gawking up at dragons flying overhead Comartin is seemingly oblivious to the pseudo-moral debate going on. "Sir permission to exit my Guardsman unit... I think I just sharted in my flight suit."

 "With proviso that I am little more flexible on subject of kneecaps, Comartin and I are pretty much on same page here." adds 'Masque simply, shrugging his shoulders, "I am knowing that people are dying in war - is thing that happens, nichevo, but I am not prepared to target those who are not enemy." 'Masque states simply, before giving Drano a long and (despite it coming through a visor) rather thoughtful look, "Two kay? - this had better not be being nuke we are talking about. Have spent enough time slogging through fifty-foot glow-in-dark snowdrifts to have no truck with atomics, youbet."

"Lieutenant, there are those among us who may not be comfortable with what you are describing. Could you please elaborate on the details?"

Mephisto is disgusted with McCloud's comment. "A fight is one thing but you ain't a murderer? What the fuck is the difference? You are in the middle of a war and you are still trying to justify every action you do. When you are following orders, your conscience can be spared.
You punks go around deciding what is a good reason to kill people, and then shun those who have other opinions on the matter... There are probably a few dozen wives and children of Coalition soldiers who don't have a very high opinion of you right now McCloud...This is war, a war of survival. We are all murderers, and we're damn good at it..."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:35, Sat 18 July 2009.

Drano nods to Comartain, granting him permission to exit his Guardsman. “Look I wasn’t told what the magic device will do, I was just told we need to be two kilometers away before it is activated. It isn’t nuclear because my mecha would have detected that already.” He then broached the subject that was bothering McCloud, Silvermasque, and the grasshopper whose name he can’t remember at the moment. “Your all soldiers and you should know that any fight within a city or town will result in the death of non-combatants. If you can’t deal with the idea of non-combatants being harmed you may join those cyber night we’ve seen taking up defensive positions. But the only way to win this way is to go on the offensive, not stay on the defensive.”

 Polarising issues makes it easier for people to think they understand things of course, but it rarely does anything to actually help. 'Masque for example, is a combat veteran with more hours of being shot at by bad people (if they're shooting at him, they're bad people, QED) than just about any other nearly-human soldier in Tolkeen's service, and if anyone can be expected to know that in war, sometimes people get hurt, it's him - and therefore presumably he's come to terms with it long since.

 This on the other hand doesn't mean that he doesn't have firm opinions about why he's fighting and what for.

A 15-foot tall Baalrog demon can be seen approaching Squad Two from the crowds. Lieutenant Portia heads out to meet him, and the Baalrog kneels before her. After a short exchange of words, he stands again and appears to join the ranks of the squad...

After taking in the debate, Shimrod offers,"Why is a fucking Merc presuming to explain my mission parameters to us? Collateral damage is inevitable. But I expect that demon-obsessed caster over there to shelve his plans on shits-and-giggle slaughter."

 Standing not terribly far away from where Shimrod is parked, 'Masque makes a point of visibly extending one hand and studying the array of wicked silver vibro-claws tipping each finger before theatrically and smoothly using one of them to scratch at the synthetic fur and skin covering one of his external audio pickups, very definitely giving the impression that he might just have not heard whatever was being said before turning slowly towards Shimrod and offering him a beaming, silvery smile that quite amiably seems to invite a repetition of said comment on Mercenaries.

 On the other hand, he doesn't actually call him on it because he's giving the Kittani the benefit of the doubt (rather than laps of the city and KP for life).

"Silvermasque, you know of my respect for you. But since when does a non-ranking mercenary browbeat a Tolkeen Corporal? I understand the terms of the Mercenary contract...it is not a Gold Card to go ignore military discipline and run hog-wild under the aegis of Tolkeen's army. I am trusting in that insubordinate soldier's judgment when combat comes, but as of yet I haven't seen much evidence of it. I would just like to have faith that you are keeping your troops in line."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:58, Sun 19 July 2009.

It was to NOT notice the huge Barlog that was talking to his counterpart Lt. Portia, and from the looks of it the thing must be joining the sinister woman’s demon horde. Then focusing back on the dissent within his squad. “Ok cut the bullshit people, we’re not here to fight each other. If your moral conscious prevents you from doing what we are about to do, you can leave to join the Cyber Knights in the defense of Tolkeen, that is provided Major Karno approves. Otherwise I don’t want to hear more of it.” Drano didn’t like the mission any more then the next man or being but he was soldier and soldiers did as they were told.

Having ones head in the clouds was much preferable to thinking about the moral dilemmas of this war. He knew that giving into some sense of righteousness would only make it harder to do his job. He was a good soldier, and being good at something was more important to him than some strangers' lives, however 'innocent'. He glides back down, enraptured by the view of the city. He snags the blunt back off Callie to take a toke. "I wonder if they have clubs where the dragons hang out and meet each other. Man I bet dragons fuck like crazy. Do you think they take on humanoid form to fuck? Man if I could shape-change I'd try every kinda fuckin'."

Amy stay's quiet, standing beside hopper and listening to all of the speeches and the rest of the squabbling and squalling discussion.  "Ah, sir, how many civilians are going to be inside that two mile radius, and is there any way you could ask what that does?  I mean, maybe killing all technology would be okay but if its something else.."

"I ain't running out on you, sir," McCloud states.  "I'm just letting my feelings about the morality of this mission go on the official record.  You're the leader and I plan to follow your orders to the best of my ability."

He turns the head of his suit to face the Shifter, "Next time you talk to me, Merc, it better be behind a wall of those demons you let ram your ass in exchange for your pussy little spells.  Because the second I hear we ain't on the same side any more, I'll show you a good reason for this 'punk' t'kill someone..."

He turns back to Drano, "What are your orders, sir?"

Drano answers the cat girl’s question. "Like I said before, I wasn't told what the device does. Next time listen when I talk.” Then he goes back to crowd control. “Unless you want to be demoted, or lose a half months pay nobody threaten anyone else, from what I have been told that has resulted in a few deaths already.”

Mephisto simply grins back at McCloud after he has said his piece. He takes pleasure in the fact that McCloud was bothered by his words. Whether he is right or wrong, he completely believes he could obliterate McCloud with his 'pussy little spells', and takes no offense to petty name calling, even when it concerns his alien master. They are above such things...

Mephisto never had much faith in the Glitter Boys surviving this war... and every now and then he feels the urge to ensure certain members of his platoon do not survive... but he ignores these urges to the best of his ability...

It does look like the wheels are turning however... Mephisto has a very vivid imagination, and can imagine very gruesome deaths for those he dislikes. This 'behaving' limitation is starting to get to him though...

Van only now realizes how heated things are getting. "Shit, like when 4-arms took on leather-face and everybody was too fucking scared to do anything about it," He looks over at Forge, "Hey Lady Borg, how do we compare to Mars in terms of soap opera drama?"

 "I was not saying anything..." 'Masque replies amiably when Shimrod protests his good intentions, before assorted people start talking trash and Drano delivers his ultimatum, which brings a brief "One moment." to Shimrod before the big 'tiger steps up alongside the other Lieutenant and cranks up just enough volume to be heard.

 "Is being one exception to 'no threats' rule." he states simply, though retaining an edge of good humour that suggests that he's not too worried about mouthing off in a friendly settlement "Is now being instituted new volunteer system. Person with biggest mouth - not counting lieutenants - is volunteering for most unpleasant jobs we are finding, and please do not be assuming that your smug is being more clever than our imagination, da?"

 As he speaks, two of 'Masques arms are folded and the others are producing, clipping and lighting one of those big cigars he's so fond of with a test-fire spark from an energy mount in one hand, "Debate is all well and good, but is serious case of dumb to be going out of way to piss of people you might be sharing foxhole with in few hours." he observes almost conversationally a moment later.

   Forge continues watching the exchange as Van asks her about Mars Company.  She responds quietly.  "Every platoon has its own allotment of disorderlies.  Please, call me Forge, as this is the moniker to which I am most familiar."

Hopper is surprised to see how Van addresses the Sergeant. This, after Mephisto just insulted Comartin. He says nothing, but watches if any of the officers will say anything more on the etiquette of soldiers.

Several hours pass by, and it is soon late evening. Major Karno finally comes in with an update over the radio.

"We are bunking up here for the night, we leave at 0600 hours. They have no rooms for us anywhere... so sleep where you are... just don't block the roads."

It was obvious the Major would be given some sort of accommodations somewhere, but the rest of the troops were sleeping on the sidewalks tonight...

 "Wonderful... join army, sleep in ditch." rumbles 'Masque without any particular sense that he's too upset by this (but then, he's a couple of tonnes of armour composite and attitude problem, so go figure) and then promptly sets to dealing with things in the simplest possible fashion, "Alright people - we are going to be sticking together, as soon as we have somewhere to set camp, we'll go to a standard watch rota - departure is supposed to be oh-six-hundred so we will look to an oh-five-hundred wakeup to give everyone time to get beauty sleep, hot breakfast and put on their makeup."

 Reaching into a battle-dress pocket, he produces a slim credstick and weighs it in one hand, "We're short on tents, so I think is good opportunity to go shopping." - turning to Drano he asks cheerfully, "I am thinking maybe four squad-size tents for you armour boys and mages to get beauty sleep in, plus hot meal all around from friendly takeaway?"

 ---

 Bivouac time - what's the weather and temperature like at the moment and are there any open areas in the vicinity where we can dig in well enough that RPA pilots can dismount and sleep and maybe we can get a hot breakfast going?

 Somewhere in walking distance of a public restroom would be a plus. ^_^

Drano didn’t know what why sleeping out in the open would bother the borg, it wasn’t like the weather would make his life miserable.


“Hot meals yes, tents no. I see no reason to buy a bunch of tents just to use them once, besides I am sure the men would rather get an extra hour of sleep instead of raising a tent then taking it back down in the morning.” As for where they would sleep Drano had an idea. “Sgt Van go zip about on your wing board and see if there is a nearby vacant parking lot or a fair ground we can set up camp in. Sgt Forge set up a one man firewatch schedule starting now and until 0800.”

---

OOC: I don’t know what time it is in game. In terms of the firewatch Officers do not watch, rank after all has its privileges. I don’t think an actually roster needs to be made. It  just needs to be known that we have somebody awake at all times.

"Yes sir bro," Van is off like a shot before 'guard duty' can be determined. Any excuse he can get to zip around this glorious city. He looks for a place that would be suitable for the platoon. Parking lots, parks, green space, even a sporting stadium -- if need be he'll ask if their platoon can crash there. People are likely to be understanding in times of war when the people fighting for their freedom are displaced and sleeping on the street.

Shimrod's high-pitched barking laugh reverberates through his amplifier. "I'd sleep underwater if it got me out of my power armor for a couple of hours."

A human mage with a staff approaches the group, making his way for Drano and Silvermasque. "Are you the ones from Tolkeen? Here to head off with Aurelor The Avenger on some crazy assault? I just wanted to meet the lot of you before you all went off and embarassed your great City.

   The borg desn't waste any time listing off her order for the firewatch.  soewhat strangely, her selections are listed off in alphabetical order, starting right with Amy and assigning each lucky party to one hour of time.  At least the new Sergeant took the time to memorize everyone's names.

   Once that is done with, Forge tries tuning her radio in to any local broadcasts, just out of curiosity.

 It might be because 'Masque is a good soldier - and does things like regularly clean and maintain his weapons and equipment, while encouraging his colleagues to do likewise - which generally is easier to do if it's not actively raining on said weapons and equipment at the time.

 "Any soldier who cannot find something clever to do with big piece of drab tarpaulin is not trying hard enough, but is less for me and more for RPA pilots, da? - takes lot of maintainance to keep 'bot in field." 'Masque rumbles amiably, but doesn't seem about to protest too much - he after all drops into a cybershop almost every time he gets back from an operation, "Is your call though - I am happy enough in open."

 Then the civilian turns up and receives himself a rather thoughtful look from the massive Russian 'borg, though for a change he defers to 'Drano on the diplomatic front, instead swinging his head around to Forge and triggering that point-to-point radio channel of his as the firewatch goes out .

Shimrod watches intently to see how 'Masque and Drano receive the sarcastic sorceror.

   Forge was moving to talk to Drano after assigning the night watches when the civilian reaches him first.  Forge decides to remain silent, allowing Drano to handle the situation without interruption.

Amy putters around inside her dropship setting up a nest of pillows to curl up in and hanging blankets over the windows so nobody can peak in while she's sleeping.  She lets the others know they can stay in the back if they want, but she's closing the door to the cockpit.

Drano wasn’t in the mood to speak to some mage looking for a verbal or moral fight. Nor did he want to explicitly state what and why they are doing here in Freehold. “You seem to already know the answers to your own questions mage. There is another lot of us nearby whom a Lt. Portia Lynn commands. Why don’t you talk to her.”

Sendrix looks surprised to be treated this way, but seems to enjoy it. "Perhaps I will introduce myself to her shortly. She is the one surrounded by demons?" He walks among the group, looking at everyone's gear, then returns to Drano. "Tell me lieutenant, have you ever worked with Dragons before?"

"Yes the short woman surrounded by demons is Lt. Lynn, you can't miss her." Drano waited for the mage to leave before taking his eyes off him. When the man returned and asked one last question he replied, as to what was really going on. "No, but I wouldn't be surprised if you were a dragon.”

The mage smiles at Drano, he doesn't offer anything more, but moves along to the other squads to get a look at everyone else.

Van also eventually finds a small park, designated a reading area for students of magic. There are lots of benches, tables, a couple fountains and very nice grass, along with some very yummy looking berry-bushes. (The berries look yummy, not the bushes).

"Yo guys there's a library park over this way," Van shouts down from 15ft above the ground. Just high enough to be heard by the whole squad. "Let's go, there's some fuckin' wicked looking berry trees."

Van leads the way. He glances in the direction of Callie. She would've been a good lay after the loss of Saila what seems like almost 2 years ago. But ol' Red wasn't havin' that. Tough luck. This gal was dead to the world. Barely spoke a word to him or anyone else. It's not that Van didn't try. She just didn't say anything for a long time, so his nut remained unbusted.

Somehow he got the feeling she was gonna be transferred soon. He'd miss the only person even close to his age or, for that matter, his race, with the steady increase in demons in their midst. He felt like an ambassador, a representative native minority.

Drano gives the order for his unit to move out and set up camp in the park Van found for them.

 With Drano's decision to use the library park, 'Masque heads on over at a reasonable speed, his usual practised eye taking in the ley of the land and the room to maneuver even if the odds of actual trouble kicking off in the middle of a city full of dragons is extremely low, smoothly moving to the middle of it and producing from his pack a damn' near self-erecting four-man infantry tent (which obviously benefits from the technology that brought you Borgs! and Flying Power Armour!) which he smoothly reconfigures to just provide gazebo-like overhead cover for the RPA suits and weapons check.

 "I am thinking would be especially bad idea to be eating strange fruit - but Van, be doing favour and doing one more quick sweep - I am wondering if there are good take-out places inside say, four blocks?" calls the oversized tiger, naturally looking to logistics since he doubts he'll be allowed to go to work with his shovel.

Hopper literally hops over to one of the more plentiful berry-bushes and puts his face right in the bush. He eats the branches and leaves as well as the berries, and turns to the others, after he swallows his first mouth-full. "I assure you all, they are quite safe to eat."
This message was last edited by the player at 12:42, Wed 29 July 2009.

Mephisto makes his way over to Drano giving McCloud a scowl on the way over. "Drano? I would like to head off towards the nexus for the rest of the night. I can prepare scrolls and such for the others as well... at a nexus I can spend a month preparing, all in one night..."

Drano allows Mephisto to go, instructing the mercenary to leave his radio on just in case they receive orders to move out on short notice.

McCloud parks his GB under the tent set up by Silvermasque and opens the suit, squinting a bit as the bright sun hits his eyes that had been adapted to the dim interior of the armor.

Climbing out, he struts around in front of his GB for a few minutes, not showing off, but stretching his muscles and working out the kinks from all the time he's spent cooped up lately.

After leading the group to grass and berries, Van nods at Drano. "Sir, I'ma probably do the same," he says in reference to Mephisto's request for absence. "I'd like to fashion some PPE clips and batteries. We'll need as much ammo as we can get."

With his request accepted he nods to his commander, then gives a wink to Silvermasque. "Sorry buddy, you'll have to find your own burger shack. Some of us don't need to eat," he says while ironically snagging some berries off the bush. He snacks while accompanying Mephisto, the only person in the whole platoon he knew before the war.

"You know it's a shame we ain't got more time," he says while the two make for the nexus, "we could do some trading, you and I. I suspect you've got your share of higher level spells you could teach me, and I can build shit. Just no time to do either, you know?"

Mephisto throws one arm around Van's shoulders in an act of friendship. "If only I could bring another with me into my time hole... now that is something to work on... are you familiar with the spell? For every 6 hours I spend inside, only about 1 hour passes out here for the rest of the world. By the time I see the other members of squad three, I will have been gone for two days... my apologies if I seem giddyabout it... this spell is just such a wonderful ability. If the spell were tweaked just enough, it could be used much more frequently. Officers could literally take extra time during a battle to turn a quick improvised defense, into a well-thought out strategy. Hell, it could basically extend the lifespan of whomever uses the spell. Even if you cast 'Sustain' on yourself, you could spend the time sleeping inside a time hole, and have more time to live... and then immortality seems like it is just out of reach..." Mephisto stares off into the distance after that last part...

   Forge approaches McCloud as he emerges from his suit of armour and she seems interested in having a look at the technology.  "If you do not mind, I've yet to get a good look at a Glitter Boy.  Is it in good working order?"

Like his compatriots Comartin similarly exits his Glitterboy suit and does some quick stretches. "Mmmm burgers sound good." he says hearing Van and Silvermasque talk. He takes his small toiletry kit over to a nearby birdbath and begins shaving.

McCloud puffs up proudly and replies, "Just had it overhauled and upgraded after our last mission.  This suit's in tip-top working condition.  Go ahead and take a look, but umm, don't touch the controls or nothin', okay?"

He steps back to allow the cyborg to see into the still-open cockpit.

 Giving a soft synthetic chuckle, 'Masque shakes his head as Hopper starts to chow down, "Each being to his own - for my part I am thinking maybe we should be looking into possibility of hamburgers, plus maybe a few bottles of typical American love-in-canoe beer.", throwing a nod Comartin's way.

 His humour's not significantly dented by Van's refusal because he was asking for a favour rather than requiring something tactical and important, so a cheerful sally of "Is fair enough, but if city is having comfort girls do not be expecting us to order you take-out - you will have to make do with Mephistos snug little one-man hole." is Van's reward from the oversized Russian officer before turning to join Forge in the Glitterboy Appreciation Society, turning particular attention to the modifications each man has decided upon.

   Forge leans in for a closer look before responding to McCloud. "Don't touch the controls? You are aware that if it is damaged in the field, I'll be the engineer assigned to make repairs?  I'd like to establish a cyber-jack with the computer and download a back-up in case it needs to be rebuilt, not to mention the value of analyzing the functional parameters of the hardware." Forge looks hopeful for McCloud's permission, although it might be easier to just pull rank. She glances over at Silvermasque when he joins them.

"Erm..." McCloud looks blankly nervous for a moment, then calls out to Drano, "Hey, Lieutenant?  The new sarge wants to jack into my GB and download some stuff!  'Zat all right?"

Drano replied "Yeah let her." Shaking his head, he wondered why McCloud asked him such a question.

 Possibly because a Glitterboy is a deeply personal piece of equipment often more a part of the family than less well loved uncles and cousins... But if you're going to have a qualified engineer along then well, that engineer is going to need a baseline to work from.

 'Masque nods politely when he draws in close and moves around the chrome power armour to examine the Boom Gun - it's not the first time he's been around a glitterboy, but the first chance he's really had to settle down and study the oversized accelerator cannon, and to judge by the twitch of his clawed fingers he'd positively love to try one out sometime.

 Sometime, needless to say, when the group isn't parked inside a City Of Dragons.

McCloud steps back and lets the two 'borgs poke and prod at his GB, oddly nervous, like a farmer watching his prize hog being judged at the spring fair.

   Forge inspects the power suit, bypassing the robotics and weaponry and going straight for the com port.  She detaches a small device from her forearm and plugs it in, establishing a wireless communication between the Glitter Boy and her own systems.  The little device has a few coloured LEDs which start flashing rapidly indicating the data transfer has begun.  While the download progresses, Forge takes note of McCloud's apparent nervousness.
   "There is little need for concern, Corporal.  I have done this sort of thing before.  I would not make any modifications without your consultation, which is exactly why I need to analyze the systems.  It will make it easier to make repairs and return damaged systems to the function to which you are accustomed.  Of course, if you wish to discuss modifications, I will work with you on it."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:27, Fri 31 July 2009.

 "One of these days, I am really going to have to try one of these as shoulder arm." rumbles 'Masque in good humour, lightly - and respectfully - tapping the Boom Gun with an extended finger-claw.

   Forge turns to give Silvermasque a puzzled expression, as if she is confused by something he has said.  "If we come across an extra cannon such as this, I'm sure we could redesign a modular connection port to allow you the ability to switch limbs with minimal time to interchange them."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:19, Fri 31 July 2009.

"It ain't that," McCloud replies, "I just take pride on my Glitter Boy is all..." He is loathe to admit that he secretly fears the two 'borgs might find some flaw or glitch in his trusty old suit and poke fun at it.

OOC: Then he realizes that 'Masque can read thoughts and quickly deletes his worries from active memory... ;)

 "Is no need to go switching limbs - while I am rigged mostly for integral weapons I have external power port for secondary reactor equipped with mostly-universal connector that will handle charge. Can even manage software interface - is old Russian tradition to have equipment that can use enemy hardware without reverse being true, and Glitterboy is old, old tech - I think I am having adaptors in memory somewhere. Trick would be rigging ammunition feed - I am not having attachment sockets for Boom Gun ammunition drum and these old cable feeds are tricky if they get all kinked, youbet." states the 'Borg, demonstrating in the process a solid grasp of the basic principles of field armoury that argues well for his capacity to keep his own equipment and that of his neighbours ticking over if there's a call, "Is big, crude son of bitch gun, da - but then, I am not being so very pretty myself and I am doing okay, yes McCloud?"

 Okay, so the big 'borg had no way of knowing what the chrome-jockey was thinking, but it never hurts to praise a mans ride, even if in a slightly roundabout fashion.

   "I've calculated your measurements, Silvermasque, I'll begin designs on the modifications and let you know shortly."  Forge snaps back to the Glitter Boy and a few seconds later the little wireless data transmitter stops blinking.  "Perfect, I believe I have all the information I require.  Corporal, if you don't mind the intrusion, may I ask why you have chosen to pilot a Glitter Boy as opposed to something more maneuverable?"

"That's what I'm talking about," Van says with regards to Mephisto's Time Hole. "a place a guy can get some work done, without missing the show. Plus I gotta say, I'm a little jealous about your vacation. I expect it'll go a ways toward mending your relations with McCloud."

Curiously he probes for Meph's sentiments on that front.

Mephisto is surprised Van even brought it up. "My relations with McCloud? He can get captured and tortured by the Coalition for all I care. I do not worry myself with making friends here..."

"Big, crude son of bitch..." McCloud mutters, then grins at the big Russian 'borg.  "I think I might just get that painted on the side of the barrel next time I take my GB into the shop."

To Forge he replies, "It was my pa's and his pa's before him all the way back to the Dark Ages, ma'am.  It's family tradition to pilot this shiny old rust bucket into battle.  And who needs maneuverability when you can cut your enemy into little bleedin' chunks from a full klick out before they even know you're there?  No need to get outta the way if there's nothing that can get close enough to touch me.  And, just in case," he reaches up and pats the newly-acquired missile box, "I got me some close-in support last time we were in town."

"I hear you bro," he says with regards to Mephisto's comment about not worrying about making friends. Van had to admire Mephisto's focus. Those that sought power with such tenacity were always intensely introverted. He knew this is why Mephisto was a shifter and himself a TW grease monkey, and why he could talk to demons while Van couldn't bare to. Or at least not without having had them under your control.

The night passes uneventfully within the Outer City walls. Freehold is a quiet place at night, leaving only the soothing almost hypnotic sound of dragons flying about inside the Inner City.

Morning comes quickly, but everyone who slept feels very good when they wake. A feeling of rejuvenation, as though they just slept a week on a bed of clouds, and woke up 10 years younger. But it is back to business right away. After breakfast, Pluto Company gathers outside the City gates and waits to set out.

Captain Viktor and Major Karno are standing next to 5 massive, frightening and beautiful dragons. They seem to be discussing something, likely the plans for traveling.

Their leader is Aurelor The Avenger, a Great Ice Dragon standing over 30 feet tall, and over 60 feet long. He doesn't look at the two human officers while they are talking, but rather stares off to the East as though he is looking right at some poor Coalition soldier and trying to kill him with his glare.

Standing next to him, and almost as great and almost as tall are his daughters, Ember and Amaya. They are feminine in their appearance, and are only about 20 feet tall, and 40-45 feet long. They are busy staring at the members of Pluto Company. Amaya, the one on Aurelor's right seems very interested in Lieutenant Portia...

Also standing among them are a gigantic 6-headed Hydra named Corrigal, and an adult Kumo Mi Dragon. Both (or all 7, depending on how you look at Hydras...) are listening intently to Major Karno and Captain Viktor.

The soldiers of Pluto Company are forced to stand and wait once again...

Shimrod barely pays attention to the dragons; such creatures were frequent tourists and guests in Atlantis. Itching to go, he finishes final adjustments on his power armor swiftly then engages in rhythmic breathing routines.

McCloud twitches nervously in his cockpit, itching to get a move on.  Not that he's not impressed with the dragons, they're sure big, powerful creatures.  But he's seen so much weirdness in this war against the CS that he's quickly becoming inured to the fantastic.

"Pluto Company is to head south east to a Coalition outpost. As usual Squad Three, this time with the help of squad two, will utilize speed and stealth to move inside a Coalition outpost and activate a weapon. Squad two and three will then fall back to a safe point where squad four will cover their escape.

The dragons and squad one will be attacking a specific airship also at this location.

Whichever objective is completed first, will free up those troops to assist the others.

I am sure by now, your officers have brought up the renegade group from Tolkeen. Before we complete our mission, we have to silence this group by any means necessary. This means we ask them to surrender once, then we blow their fucking heads off like the traitorous dogs that they are.

If there is nothing else, grab your cocks and let's move out!"

"Oh and one last thing. Four of you have been transfered to squad one with me. Tyirrak, Vashti, Calliandra, and Karnon."

 "Is no hurry - if I am going to play with boom gun, would prefer to be doing armourer work myself, is something of hobby." replies the big Russian in response to Forge's statement that she's up and ready to design shiny things at the drop of a hat before grinning down at McCloud and lightly (very lightly) patting him on the shoulder in appreciation.

 The night passes in good order with a steady guard rotation and breakfast is arranged by the oversized Russian who - feeling decidedly chipper - actually goes and fetches it himself, returning with heart-attack-worthy quantities of fried things that only add to the general feeling of 'ready to take on the world' that seems to permeate the air here.

 And then on to the dragons, who no matter how many times he's seen them and no matter how many other things he sees on the way have never ceased to be hellishly impressive, especially this close.

 The sudden loss of two members of the platoon though prompt him to swing about to Drano and mentally reassess things, "That is leaving you with McCloud, Amy, Hopper and Mephisto in your fireteam while I am having Van, Comartin, Shimrod and Forge, da?"

In the morning looking quite chipper Amy got up and stretched seeming to almost gain two feet in height, at least for a moment before settling back down to her normal diminutive frame.    After rather daintily eating the fried breakfast foods, having done her best not to get grease on her fur she joined the others in hurrying up to wait.  The sight of all the dragons in their majesty takes her breath away and she can't help but watch them in wonder.

Then overhearing silvermask she frowns and pipes up softly.  "Ahh, I'm not very good fireteam material."

Shimrod wakes easily and commences his morning exercise routine before suiting up for the day's work. "A fine day to go to war yet again. My heart is singing after all the sloth of the last few days."

Drano give the word for his squad to move out. As they travel he passes the word on the new squad break down into three sections.

1st section
1st Lieutenant Drano Pierce (GB)
Sergeant Van Fanel (TW)
Corporal McCloud (GB)
Mephisto (Shifter)

2nd section
Merc Lieutenant Silvermasque (Borg)
Sergeant Forge (borg)
Corporal Comartin (GB)
Private Shimrod (PA Pilot)

3rd section (Transport/gunship)
Private Amy Weyland-Yutani
Hopper (gunner)
This message was last edited by the player at 14:27, Sun 09 Aug 2009.

Comartin was happy to be encased in his Glitterboy when the dragons were present. Its not because it made him feel any more brave or anything. It did however keep everyone from seeing him tremble in fear. He was pleased he kept from pissing or shitting himself and reminds himself of that small victory every so often as they travel along. That and it helps to ignore the ultimate goal of the day which is to commit more unspeakable acts of murder than they did the day before. Well if the day is to be measured a success anyway. Stupid dragons...

Van is content about the section breakdown and reports to Lt. Pierce. Mostly he just finds it amusing that Mephisto and McCloud are grouped together as they are. Nothing worse than a boring squad. He also likes that he's not under 'Masque's command. He respects his field experience and everything, but his position of mercenary lieutenant seems to only have been given to him when there were more mercs to command. Being a volunteer and of the regular forces, he has some contempt for his authority.

The Ice-Dragon joining Portia's squad excites him. As much as the dragon will learn from them, Van too felt he would gain some understanding of these magnificent creatures. He gives the dragon a wink when she looks in their direction. "Alright, lets roll everybody. We get closer to the outpost and then assess the situation from there."

McCloud wonders what the hell he did to piss Pierce off enough to make him be in the same squad as that suckwad, Mephisto, but keeps his complaints to himself.  He's been chewed out enough in the last couple of days.

Amy smiles over at Hopper as they climb back aboard the Pelican.  "I'm glad to have you with me.  But, just remember we're not a gunship, even though Drano likes to think we are.  We're scouting and extraction so don't start shooting unless its already too late to hide, I want to make it through this war okay?"

The path to this Coalition outpost is the identical route used on the way to Madtown just under two weeks ago. All four squads of Pluto Company, led by Squad One (with the dragons in human form among them) walk the same steps that more than double their numbers walked when they were here last. Pluto Company had been formed not even a month ago and has already been reduced to just 75% of it's original force.

They set out again after some more Coalition scum, but the prospect of hunting down the renegade party is weighing much heavier on the minds of most of those present. They won't be fighting SAMAS armors and skelebots... they are going up against other mages, fellow citizens of Tolkeen...

Their names : Theodore Kitt, Dragana Kovacevic and Renszath.

An hour into the journey, south east, towards this outpost, is the small 'town' of Desire. Before the war it was a sleezy town to buy and sell all kinds of magic and black market weapons. However it was also filled with gangsters, whores, drugs, and violent crime. Naturally all of these things have gotten worse in the past months, but it was still as good as any spot to begin looking for any sings of the traitors...

The town is built on an old city intersection. It has been restored to some of it's original design, complete with streets, road signs, and traffic lights. There are a dozen bars and taverns, among weapon shops, a vehicle repair garage and a fairly large Inn. The whores (human and D-Bee) don't bother with a place of busines and just walk up and down the intersection, some of them completely naked, offering themselves for a small amount of credits. There aren't many people out in the street, but the repair garage is full of vehicles. As soon as Pluto Company enter the town the girls are all over the soldiers dancing and rubbing themselves against everyone.

Everyone knew it was coming, some were happy some were not when the Major came in over the radio...

"Everyone stop, we're going to take a clsoer look."

Van appreciates the goods. He politely (as possible) shies away from the old hags who have no place in this profession, and poises himself closer to a more attractive one. It's not that he necessarily plans to buy, but he does appreciate salesmanship.

"Don't try to cheat a thief, baby. If the boss grants us leave you'll turn a trick, but not a moment sooner," he announces, just so the cards are on the table. He is cautious of whores, knowing that they, like himself, are opportunists, and in these desperate times there's no telling what they might be driven to.

   Forge wasn't prepared to properly deflect the affections of the prostitutes and she haplessly found herself in the clutches of one who didn't seem to mind the mechanical body.  "I have no credits for you." She replies, believing that statement carry more weight than something like I'm not interested.  If she is forced, she'll maneuver her hovercycle away, more to the center of the convoy to allow the others a chance to peruse the salesmanship.

Drano just ignore the whores, taking care not to knock any over or push any to the ground. As it was getting out of hand he activates his loudspeaker “Back off bitches, if any of my men and women are interested in your services they will visit you later.” This demand had a dual meaning not only would the whores know they may be getting business later, but Drano just told his people that they could get laid if they spent the night.

McCloud gently peels a rather "affectionate" d-bee whore off the leg of his GB.  "No thank you, ma'am," he mutters out loud, stepping back to dissuade her from coming at him again (pun intended).  "Is it too much to ask that I meet a nice girl at some point during this charlie fox trot of a war?" he radios over the squad's comm channel.

 "Is administrative term - if shit is hitting fan, you are backing up Drano." he murmurs quietly to Amy in what's probably intended to be a comforting fashion before cheerfully stating, "Never mind." and adjusting his squad roster according to the latest change to the Table without complaint. Truth be told, he'd probably agree with Van about the weirdness of his rank, but gradually it seems to have been becoming more and more obvious to Tolkeen that if you're going to hire military specialists with more experience than any round dozen garritroopers you care to name, it probably doesn't hurt to give them some authority (once they've proven that they're not dipshits).

 For his part, 'Masque seems to be pretty used to the sort of treatment he (and the rest of the squad) gets entering Desire, fending off the various sexual (and worse) predators that actually find themselves trying to make a line for a giant armoured four-armed tiger with a few playful smacks to various buttocks and a rumbling "Sorry ladies, is not being time for going off-duty." he states, keeping a close eye (or visor) on the rest of the squad to try and cut down on pickpocketing.

 Of course, monitoring his own things is pretty much a priority too...

Comartin shudders inside his PA suit seeing how the women are acting. The whole scene makes him feel uncomfortable and kind of sad. He is relieved that the women selling themselves are unable to see the look on his face as it would probably only make the situation more awkward. Sometimes when he is "buttoned up" he feels like a robot and currently that is how he acts, like an unfeeling uncaring robot that does not react to anything.

Amy glances over at Hopper with a curiously raised eyebrow and then back to the streets, wondering just how... appealing the display might be to him, and grateful for her fur to hide the blush her trail of thought took after Drano's announcement.  Still she stays at the controls of the pelican till she has a good, and safe place to park it.

"My goodness... I had hoped we wouldn't have to stop here..." Hopper shakes his head with dissappointment at the mention of stopping in Desire to search for these renegades...

"Have you been here before Hopper?"  Amy asks, trying to guess at his reasons for disgust at the proposition of staying.

"Yes indeed. I had made the misake of asking for directions here once many years ago. I had stayed for less than five minutes, and in that time I had been beaten, robbed, and beaten again, and I woke up floating in a river a mile away... That was many years ago now though... this town could be different now..."

Shimrod looks around. "Yes, very different. Everything you experienced now seems to be institutionalized, instead of merely beloved tradition." He views the prostitutes with obvious disdain, not for the profession but for the appalling lack of grace and artistry. Cloudy memories of the pleasure palaces of Atlantis lead him drifting away for a moment, but he soon recovers. "Talentless amateurs, not worthy of a single credit," he snorts. "I doubt a single one has received even remedial training in prana-bindu muscle control, nor even memorized a single disc of "Multiversal Delectation: Essences, Narcotica, and Bio-Arousal Fusions.  Useless. They wouldn't even be able to receive a small-caste license for erotica in Atlantis, and they damned near give those to single-celled organisms!" His barking laughter rings out.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:08, Sun 16 Aug 2009.

Drano can first be heard replying over the radio net. "Squad Three Actual copies." Then using the load speaker he issue orders. “Let’s dismount, and start searching every establishment in town. Break up into two’s. Van your with me, McCloud take Yutani with you when she gets here. No matter what stay together, and maintain radio contact.”

“Mephisto, you and Hopper are on guard duty; make sure no one fucks with the power armor and vehicles.” Drano then exits his Chromium Guardsman and pulls out the L-20 Pulse Rifle from the storage box on the left leg. He is wearing a suit of Urban Warrior armor with a helmet stylized like that of a Glitterboys head, just minus the horns. He then radio's the dropship.

"Yutani, Hopper I need you two here as well. Yutani join up with McCloud, hopper you’re with Mephisto."


OOC: Silvermasqure with his meta gaming narrator can figure out the obvious and break his people up into two’s.

 Fortunately no imaginary external sources of information are necessary for Silvermasque to be aware of an instruction offered by someone less than a half-dozen yards away - an advantage he seems to have over most people promoted over the rank of N.C.O. (thhhbt) and he soon  enough turns to look over his associates and make the appropriate judgement calls, "Forge, you and Shimrod please be being one sweep team - Comartin, you are being with me. Try not to be causing any damage and stay in support range of at least one other team"

 Reaching into his BDU pouches, he pulls out a small, low-powered handheld datapad and flashes up the best he's got for a map of the town (whether actually supplied in their briefing, compiled on a previous visit or just put together from visual inspection on the way in) and offers the screen to the other Lieutenant, "Drano - I am figuring we sweep through town in rough line abreast, building by building. That way, if there is being trouble, we can be backing one another up, khorosh?"

Drano looks at the data pad. "Sounds good, but once we start going though buildings this place is going to be a madhouse." He then issued further instructions to his people. "Each team pick an adjacent building to search. Also it would be best if we keep an eye out for those avoiding us. They will be the ones to talk to.” Personally Drano figured if something happened to a team it would be over, one way or another before any help could arrive.

Although Shimrod leaves his K-1 Sniper Rifle with his power armor due to the confined area, he arms himself well; he carries his recently-scavenged Kinetic Staff and both his Entity Fear Pistol and his Kittani KEP-Special energy pump pistol are at his side. He moves over to join Forge, smiles and nods in greeting. "Ready to experience the local color?"

   Forge joins Shimrod and nods to him, letting her eyes linger on his technology.  "Yes.  Let us start with that inn across the street.  Your weaponry appears to be quite advanced, perhaps you will permit me to inspect it later?  I am still in the process of cataloguing our platoon's equipment."

   When Shimrod is ready to head inside the building, a small hatch opens on Forge's back, between her shoulder blades.  A softball-sized device zips out and up into the air.  In just a few seconds it is just a tiny speck about 3,000 feet in the air.  "It is an automated probe to provide me with an aerial view of the area.  At some point, I could link the display to that of your power armour if you like."

   Forge continues to maneuver the probe in order to obtain the best view of her surroundings, flying laterally if necessary to spy down into an alleyway.  She also tags the buildings she sees the other members of her platoon enter and continues to track their movements as well.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:21, Sun 16 Aug 2009.

"10-4 Lieutenant..." Mephisto complies reluctantly to stay behind with the bug...

Up ahead, between third and first squads is Portia Lynn and squad two. Portia can be heard yelling out in a magically amplified voice. "Attention civilians! We are a Tolkeen military unit on active duty. You will now cease your solicitation and disperse this crowd or you will be forcibly removed. Should we bivouac here for the evening rest assured those soldiers fond of sexually trasmitted diseases will no doubt come and visit you."

Lieutenant Lynn looks at the watch on her left wrist. Her right hand strays to the handle of the black bullwhip coiled at her hip. "You have thirty seconds to comply!"..... twenty seconds!....

Lieutenant Dyvalis can also be seen hitting one of the women in the face when she touches him.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:29, Sun 16 Aug 2009.

Already out of his suit, "Backup" drawn, McCloud nods at Yutani.  "You comin' or what?" he asks as he finishes buttoning up his GB and activating the security system.

Van nods at his commander. "Which building first? I'll move around back to make sure we don't miss nobody." In his full exoskeleton he doesn't look like a 17 year old. Considering how many people he's killed by this point, he doesn't exactly act like one either. With modifications that transpose his loudspeaker, it's easy to forget the boy inside. All this should work to his advantage as he quickly zips around to the back of their first building on his board.

Comartin follows along after Silvermasque as he was ordered. He does however stay inside his Glitterboy suit and will remain so until he is ordered otherwise or the situation demands he exit the P.A.

Buttoning up her beloved Pelican tight she hops down, still in her terrain hopper power armor to join McCloud.  Looking up at him she inwardly pouts at the fact even in armor she's still a runt when compared to him.  "Alright Sir, I'm ready to go." She replies to his question.

Portia then cracks her whip on the back of one of the girls heads knocking ehr to the ground, followed by Burd, the Thornhead demon chasing a group of the women as they run away screaming.

McCloud watches the spectacle and shakes his head, "I hate this place sometimes..." he mutters quietly, mostly to himself.

Jerking his head in the direction they're supposed to be searching, he says to Yutani, "C'mon..."

 Moving off with Comartin, 'Masque cheerfully taps the other man on his armoured shoulder, "We are having something of advantage here - is no point sending me to check teeny buildings, so we'll be sticking to ones built on larger scale, da? - Should mean you can stay in armour most of time." - a reassurance that's probably worth its weight so to speak as the big 'tiger uses map and 'mind both to locate the larger structures in town intended for those of a greater than human stature and make a bee-line for them, as the sweep line reaches each in turn.

Comartin gives his Lieutenant a thumbs up and follows along keeping his eyes and sensors open for trouble.

She settles in to follow McCloud walking in the shadow of his GB unslinging her own rifle, because of Hoppers horror story, but really hoping it won't be needed.

Seeing Van move off on his hover board, away from him and several other members still in power armor Drano gets on the radio to carry out the rare act of telling his people to do shit right. "Squad Three what part of dismount and stay together do you not understand?"

"DISMOUNT, means get the fuck out of your power armor, there is no reason for us to search the buildings in bulky power armor and break shit."

“STAY TOGETHER, means don't go flying off ahead of the person you are paired up with and leave them behind."

OOC: You guys can't follow orders can you?

McCloud looks over his shoulder at Cromartin and shakes his head.  "At least I'm not the one getting squawked at this time..." he murmurs conspiratorially to Amy.

OOC: Don't look at me!  I got outta my GB like a good little solider!

Also on the radio,

"Roger that sir.. I fully intend to exit my guardsman before entering any human sized buildings. I just did not want to have all the unmanned armors bunched together where one well placed explosion could frag them all.... Sir."

Comartin continues on following Silvermasque and remaining inside his suit until they come to a building whereupon he will exit. Unless it is a big warehouse or something that will permit his bulk.

"You're the boss," Van says, acknowledging the LT's freak out, "I guess together is relative, but we'll go with your definition."

He falls in and lets Pierce do all the leading.

OOC:  my bad, I misread your post and thought you were still in it and responded as such.  As for me, I did "dismount" I'm not in my vtol anymore, and for me my "bulky power armor" makes me man sized!

She can't help but giggle slightly at McClouds comment in response to the order, then she sighs and asks him, "Do you think he means me too, I mean, I'll admit it would be nice to get out of my flight suit but is it really safe to do so, because its not like I'm of a size with well, you guys.."

"Nah," McCloud replies.  "He's just yellin' at Comartin.  I swear, that guy'd have himself surgically installed in his Glitter Boy if he could find a Fixer who'd do it..."

Impressed by the probe, Shimrod nods at Forge. "Linking up would useful. I am not used to integrating non-Kittani equipment, but am always ready to adapt." He sizes her up a bit closer, "I could also look into optimizing some of your systems; as a high-caste Kittani, I have both intellectual and psychic training in all nuances of technology." Weapon ready, he prepares to scour the inn with Forge.

The pairs split up and start sweeping the 'town'. Squad Two and their actions of choice seems to have gathered some attention as an armoured man has made his way to stand between the demons and the civilians they were going after, and appears to be talking to Portia and the others.

In reply to McCloud (msg #223):

McClouds comment draws a laugh.  Though after a few more steps she asks, the mirth falling away from her tone.  "Do you think we'll find anything, I mean, they won't still be here will they?"

Drano and Van enter a tavern through the back door, leading into the kitchen. The kitchen staff are all goblins, Tokani, and other non-humans. They look very unhealthy, and don't even look up at the two soldiers when they enter. The tavern is nearly empty as most of the customers have left since Tolkeen's arrival in town. A few drunks are left behind guzzling their booze regardless of who is in their town. The bartender notices the arrival however and is glaring right at Drano, the obvious officer in the room.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Silvermasque and Comartin find no warehouses or anything of the sort. The building with the largest doors is the mechanic/vehicle garage. A half dozen mechanics are working on various rides when they approach, and they all stop working. One of them grabs a strange looking TW weapon, and they all line up facing Masque and Comartin ready for a fight...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Amy and McCloud are approached by a human woman holding a baby, with another toddler following closely behind her. "What the fuck do you assholes want here huh?!?! Whay are you doing this to us huh?!? What the fuck did we do to you eh?" She spits on McClouds boot and waits for an answer with one hand on her hip, and the other holding the baby.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Forge and Shimrod enter another bar, still mostly filled with customers... all wearing the same black armour with an eagle painted on their chests, and shoulders. They all stop to stare at them as they enter and one stands up with a pistol drawn, but down at his side. "You are in the wrong bar drones".
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:02, Sat 22 Aug 2009.

 There's a definite familiarity to this for 'Masque - back home the need to perform regular sweeps of the settlements in his bands area of responsibility meant that urban searches under suspicious eyes became practically second nature to him - but there's a real undercurrent of hostility in this town that no one in mother Russia would dare turn upon a Cyborg Shocktrooper - and not because of their physical power either.

 Raising a hand to indicate for Comartin to park up at the door to the vehicle bay he steps in and faces off against the assembling crowd of armed mechanics - there are tricks to handling people in groups, and though he's not able to make eye contact as such, 'Masque has most of the others down pat.

 One hand goes into a BDU pouch and comes out with a hefty case from which is drawn a cigar that's smoothly clipped by the flash of two silvery claws and then lit - while the big Russian pretends not to notice the impromptu militia - by a casual test-flash from one palm-mounted energy weapon, then puffed to a gleaming cherry glow, producing plentiful aromatic smoke a process carefully judged to take enough time for the first flush of 'who does he think he is?' to be replaced by 'why isn't he looking unhappy', 'damn that's a big son of a bitch' and 'hey, I'm not getting paid enough for this shit'.

 "Good morning." he rumbles smoothly, looking from face to face in an amiable fashion, "I am looking at your faces and thinking that you are not wanting trouble in own shop, which is good - we are not wanting trouble in your shop either. I have couple of pictures to be showing you - when you are solemnly swearing to me that you have never been seeing them before in life, I can be getting on with day."

 Because he knows full well that they're going to lie to him - which is why as he speaks he's running the assorted vehicles and hardware scattered around the bay through his onboard computer systems, trying to identify anything that might link to the missing squad.

Drano scanned the bar’s drunk patrons, looking for any who may be Tolkeen military, he then looked back at the bartender and answered. “I’m looking for being named Kitt, or for anybody who knows of the whereabouts of Kitt.”

   Forge scans the crowd of armoured men, running their insignia through her poorly stocked database of local brands in an attempt to identify them.
   "Actually we were ordered to search this building for some individuals on the authority of the Tolkeen military.  Please identify yourselves so we can proceed." Forge either doesn't understand the veiled threat from the man or chooses to ignore it as indicated by the pleasant and polite tone of her voice.

   Simultaneously, Forge tracks the movement of the man on the hovercycle being pursued by the baalrog demon under the video surveillance of her airborne probe while keeping the camera zoomed out enough to also watch the building in which she is currently located.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:04, Sun 23 Aug 2009.

"What have we done that you haven't deserved,  We just got here so I'm a little confused." Amy offers from her spot a little behind McCloud.

<IMG SRC="http://img32.imageshack.us/img32/6471/floridahillsboroughinte.jpg">

UP IS NORTH


Squad One is at the far east, and has spread out their squads north and south, mostly among residential areas.

Squad Two is just east of the intersection. most of them are still on te road dealing with some lcoal.

Squad Three is west of Two, just on the west side of the intersection, and has spread it's troops among the couple bars, and the mechanic's shop.

Drano and Van are inside the northern most bar on the map.

Forge and Shimrod are in the one just south of the road by the intersection.

McCloud and Amy are on their way to the southermn-most bar labeled on the map when approached by another local.

Squad Four is at the far west side, likewise searching north and south.

"They'd be idiots if they were still hangin' around," McCloud replies to Amy's first question, but further conversation is cut off by the antagonistic Townie and the glob of spit running down his boot.

"Ma'am," he says, trying for diplomacy, "This ain't got anything to do with you.  We're lookin' for a pack of deserters that tried to sell us all out to the Coalition and we think they might be hiding out here.  I know it's a disruption, but we're trying to bring these guys in before they do any more harm.  Any help you can give us would be appreciated.  And," he tries to smile in spite of the woman's harpy-like attitude, "the sooner we find what we're looking for, the faster we get outta here and the less your lives get interfered with."

Comartin gives a thumbs up to indicate that he is "loud and clear" on Silvermasques instructions. He also figures it is a decent enough gesture that the locals might think he is trying to be friendly.

The Kittani is utterly expressionless as he scans the bar, his mind open to as much stimuli as possible...in order to allow his sixth sense to work to its full potential.

The bartender who was watching Van and Drano, goes back to cleaning and plainly ignores Drano's questions. The drunks haven't even shown sign of noticing the two officers in their bar...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The mother from Desire responds to McCloud and Amy with even more of a temper "You savages walk right in here and push us around! Two people have been attacked for no damn reason! Don't you even try to lie to my face! Just get out of here!"

She suddenly looks very faint, and starts wobbling a little where she is standing. She looks like she is about to pass out.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The armed and standing guard seems to be their spokesperson to reply to Forge. "Actually... you ARE in the wrong bar..." He offers no means of identification.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Silvermasque is watched careful while he speaks, and puffs on his cigar. Surprisingl, the mechanics agree to take a look at his photographs. The one mechanic with the TW weapon (the end of the gun looks like 3 large claws closing in around the barrel) stays back 15 feet, paying most of his attention to Comartin.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:31, Wed 26 Aug 2009.

Stupid, gallant instinct kicks in and McCloud dives in to steady the staggering woman.  "Are you all right, ma'am?" he asks.

Van looks over to Drano. He is a bit slighted from having been formerly rebuked, and so he stands back and lets Drano work his magic. He has his rifle ready but lowered. He hears the call on the radio about the suspicious hovercyclist and wants more than anything to be on the chase, or for things to liven up here. "Helpful bunch," he says when the bartender gives them the cold shoulder. "Apparently they don't give a fuck that we're the only thing stopping the CS from bulldozing this shit hole and putting up a fucking highway. You wanna try that again with a little respect? Any other military squads been through town in the past little while?"

 It's not really that big a surprise to 'Masque - after all, engineers tend to be a tad smarter than your average roustabouts and there's an awful lot of valuable stuff parked in this garage that would fare poorly if things turn violent. Which doesn't mean that this is going to be friendly of course.

 Clamping his cigar firmly between his jaws he reaches into a pouch and produces a slim datapad, flicking it until the names and pictures of the people in question appear - and more importantly, their vehicles - and then drops smoothly to one knee to hold it up where the engineers can see the display which he then starts to scroll through at the rate of one image every second or so, "Call out if you are recognising anything or anyone." he asks politely, operating on the 'more flies with honey than vinegar' principle.

   Forge tries to clarify her position to the eagle-crested men. "Wouldn't it be more efficient for you to just say We refuse to identify ourselves, leave the building rather than confuse me with misinformation?  Please, we mean no harm."  Forge's demeanor is certainly diplomatic, but she still speaks firmly.  Her conviction is apparent.

   While speaking plainly to the men in the bar, Forge "silently" transmits another few words simultaneously over the radio to her platoon.
   "This is Sgt. Forge, inside the inn on the main floor.  We are about to encounter resistance.  Requesting backup to make aggressive entry through the main entrance.  We have a paramilitary team of armed humanoids in full body armour who are impeding our search."

   Forge continues to watch the baalrog chase down the hovercycle on the streaming video from her aerial probe, impressed with the demon's speed and tenacity.  But she doubts he will be able to keep up with the hovercycle's jet engines much longer.
   She switches it to a thermal scan, hoping to glimpse any heat signatures in the upper floor of the inn and get an idea of any potential trouble from upstairs.

   At the same time, Forge scans the room for any wireless devices, including walkie-talkies, music radios, a television, or personal computers carried by these men in black armour.  Any of these things may become an effective distraction if she can tap into them remotely.

Of subordinate rank, Shimrod merely holds his magical staff nonchalantly and lets his Sergeant do the talking.

Amy stands around nervously McCloud having beaten her to action when she pauses to listen to the transmission a look of alarm widening her eyes and causing an itching along her back as she tries to puff up inside her suit.

Drano answers Silvermasque first, but keeps the people in the bar from hearing, by turning his helmet's mic. “Are you busy Silvermasque? What your situation? McCould if your not busy go to Forge’s location as well.” Hopefully the Borg wasn’t caught up with an issue in the building he was checking out, nor was McCloud. He then waits to see if the bartender and its patron will answer Van. If not then maybe they’d just take the bartender for questioning.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:10, Thu 27 Aug 2009.

PM

The Adventures of Van and Drano...

Still inside the bar...

The 'tender throws his wash cloth over his shoulder, and leans forward on the bar, looking back at Van. He calls out to the officers, in a tone that was anything but respectful, and this time loud enough to grab the attention of the other patrons inside the bar. "Your soldiers pass through here all the time, you all look the same to us. Don't know nothin about whatever it is you are looking for... but word travels fast in Desire. And the word say your people aren't bein to polite outside. I even heard a girl was brutalized by one of your officers, and a woman has been taken captive. And now two men have just now been killed. What fucking respect do you deserve you fucking PIECE of shit? You want my advice? It would be to leave Desire now, before things get really ugly..."

The dozen or so civilians seem to be slightly more lively, and are mostly watching to see Van and Drano's response.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The woman allows McCloud to catch her, and she sighs loudly. "Oh my! I can't hold my baby! I'm gonna drop the baby!" She looks up at Amy and begs "Please, please take my baby before I drop her... please.... please..."

A black pick-up suddenly picks up speed from about 100 feet away and drives right for the two pilots.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You'll be lucky if we LET you leave bitch." Their apparent leader plainly stated. Another man yells out "Now getda fuck outta here!" then breaks out laughing with a few of the others at this table.

There are maybe 15 like-armored people in the bar, and the bartender is a gorgeous busty blonde in tight clothing currently picking the dirt from her nails with a hunting knife.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The pictures scroll through and unsurprisingly the mechanics shake there heads 'no', in regards to recognizing anybody on the data pad.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:35, Thu 27 Aug 2009.

Still holding the woman and trusting Amy to catch the baby, McCloud dodges out of the way of the oncoming vehicle.  "Get up over it!" he shouts at the cheetah-girl. hoping she can react quickly enough to use her jumpjets while still saving the child.

OOC: 07:50, Today: McCloud rolled 9 using 1d20+8. Dodge. = 17

So he wants a fight does he? "Funny, I been in this town not half an hour, and I ain't seen nothing BUT ugly. With word traveling like it does I'm gonna assume you know the last time a platoon passed through, so let's start with that. You can tell us, we leave and nobody's shit gets fucked up. But there's always a tough way, for tough guys like you. I'll just remind you that there's a platoon of highly trained specialists and very powerful creatures in this town. A little cooperation and your militia won't waste their lives impeding Tolkeen's search."

Van starts to think that, perhaps in these troubled times, this whole town has a death wish. He's no genie but he is more than willing to grant it.

  Forge remains calm and appears to ponder the situation for a few seconds.  She glances around the room momentarily meeting the various threatening stares she and Shimrod are receiving.  In those few seconds, it may appear that she is weighing her options and trying to decide how to respond.  She is in fact putting on that facade while taking several steps to change her position somewhat.

  With her eye still in the sky, she can see Dyvalis and some of the other members of 2nd platoon walking to her location.  "Lt. Dyvalis, please increase your speed, attack is imminent!" She transmits over her long range radio, trying her best to convey a sense of urgency in her voice.  But her lips never physically move as she generates the speech electronically.

  While transmitting the radio message to Dyvalis, Forge is attempting to access the broadcast frequency being used by the radios carried by these men, using her wireless data transmitter.  In the few seconds Forge took to glance around the room, she hopes to have the access she needs.  The process is fast and would likely cause their radios to chirp once, as if someone had just clicked a transmit button.  Definitely noticeable, but could be attributed to interference or even just someone hitting their button accidentally.

  Forge knows that most people aren't prepared for her ability to split her concentration and so she plans to use that to her advantage by trying to break the concentration of these men.  She will play an audio recording from her memory files of an old movie she watched alongside her squad from Mars Company a few weeks ago.  But before the recording begins, she returns her gaze to the spokesman before her and starts to speak.

  "If we leave, I will have to report to my lieutenant that you have been - "

  Forge then 'cuts herself off' by playing her recording over the radio frequency being used by these men.  Coming from their radios there is suddenly the sound of automatic gunfire and then a man's voice screams "I need back-up assistance now! Now goddamnit, NOW!" There is a crashing sound and then the transmission cuts out.

  Forge looks over at Shimrod quickly and gives him a wink to let him know he doesn't need to worry.  Forge looks back at the troopers and she brings up her own wrist to her mouth and talks to it as if she is using a wrist-mounted radio.  She's just pretending though.  Shimrod would know this instantly when he notices he can hear her voice beside him but nothing over their platoon radio channel.
  "Lieutenant, this is Forge, what is the status out there!?"

  Of course, all this happens in just a few seconds.  The perception of the troopers should be that someone is calling for assistance on their own radio band.  The female cyborg soldier of Tolkeen in their bar then calls her lieutenant, apparently to investigate a possible attack, judging by the sounds of gunfire on the transmission.  Forge's transmission to Dyvalis doesn't actually finish until she is about half-way through pretending to use her radio in front of these men in the bar.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:22, Mon 31 Aug 2009.

Drano allows Van to speak as he listens to the radio, then answers.

Knowing that things were apparently getting out of hand all across the town of Desire, Drano saw no reason to pussy foot around play nice guy anymore. Besides Lt. Lynn had already drawn first blood and the bar’s patrons apparently knew about the incident already

“Sergeant Van, if they don’t wish to talk then they don’t have to.” Then as if on second thought raises his rifle at the Bartenders head and pulls the trigger. The first shot was pulled too quickly, and the laser blast strikes the bottles of booze arrayed behind his head. Drano’s next two shots are aimed center mass. He then moves so that neither the bartender or it’s patrons are behind him. Keeping the rifle raised he then asses if the bartender is still alive or dead, and if the bar’s patrons have chosen to take action.

 "Spasiba." replies 'Masque to the Engineers as he finishes the run of pictures, in tones that make it quite clear that it's some version of 'thankyou', offering the men a small bow of his armoured upper body like some kind of two-tonne community police officer making good with the natives, tucking the pad away while he does so "Then we are done - thankyou for time and I am sorry for inconve..."

 It's about this point that the snap-hiss-crack of laser fire (hitting soft structures (like buildings and bodies) makes itself heard and the big 'borg looks up sharply, his head swinging about to look back towards town briefly, then returning to the engineers, "I am thinking would be good time for you to close doors and hunker down, is sounding like someone has been using dick for thinking instead of pissing, youbet."
 Of course, he has no way to know just who that someone might be at the moment.

 Then it's time for an about-face and movement as he starts to divert onboard power from his miniaturised atomic pile to charge energy weapon capacitors and spin up defensive systems, prepping for anything from a little civic unrest (there are stun settings on his close-combat whips and tear gas in his dispensers) to full-on warfare, "Conmartin, are you having anything less than lethal on board big disco ball?" he asks as he draws alongside the other man.

Van's exoskeleton powers up as energy starts to form from his palm. The air begins to ionize and crackle, threatening to unleash a Dynamo Sphere at anyone who tries to come to the barkeep's defense. He broadcasts in his altered voice, at a higher decibal level. "We ain't even askin' y'all, so don't go throwing your own lives away."

Hopefully the warning will suffice, consider the apathetic nature of the townsfolk. They might just see it as a way of scoring a bit of free booze. If not though, first person to go for a weapon gets smoked. He'll cover their exit otherwise.

Comartin replies to Silvermasque as they run along to rendezvous with Mepshito and the others.

"No sir, Gilda here is basically one lethal lady. I can handle civilians in hand to hand without fear of completely crushing them if need be but generally just pointing this Boomgun in the direction of a hostile group is a great way to send them running. If after seeing the pair of us coming at them they still want to pick a fight they would have to be completely insane."

Amy is no slouch, and despite the rather...questionable nature of the woman's actions and cry she reacts instinctively to catch the baby and cradle it carefully before ducking aside out of the path of the truck, very careful of the baby's neck and head doing her best to cradle it gently.

OOC:
22:16, Today: Amy Weyland-Yutani rolled 33 using 1d20+18. dodge.

 "Understood... if civilians get in way, first shot should be over heads, don't bother with sound damper. If anyone starts shooting well, we deal with that when we know what is going on, da?" the big mercenary replies, matching his speed to that of the far slower (but heavily armed and armoured) powered battlesuit, rather than splitting people all over the place, "If possible I would like to try to contain this rather than escalate, so let's respond accordingly."

"Roger that." Comartin replies. A few months ago he would have scoffed at such talk and probably got into at least a verbal argument regarding his upstanding character. After having participated in this war for the time he has now he no longer has any illusions of what his fellow soldiers are capable of. The worst of it of course of what he believes he is currently capable of.

The adventures of Van and Drano:

   The bartender's lifeless body collapses to the floor. The drunk patrons dive for cover under their tables. Some begin to sniffle, one breaks down crying completely. None of them appear threatening...


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Amy and McCloud :

   The truck makes a sharp turn to avoid hitting anyone, and four humans in black body armour marked with eagles hop out of the back all armed with neuro maces. The driver climbs on top of the truck and yells to the soldiers of Tolkeen. "Drop your fucking shit now, and get in the fucking truck."

The riflemen take aim, while the trappers spread out.

The mother walks up to Amy without making eye contact. She reaches out her arms when she is close enought to take her baby back...


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Forge and Shimrod :

   The armoured men exchange looks after the false transmission, and one of them transmits something back.



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Silvermasque and Comartin :

   A few dozen humans in black body armour have gathered on the rooftops and around Mephisto, Hopper and the vehicles. None of them have attacked, but their numbers are approaching 20...

 Now that's just not good... that's just not good at all.

 "If one of those black-armoured bastards looks like he's going to open fire, I do not want enough left of him to bury, da?" 'Masque remarks conversationally to Conmartin, just in case there was any doubt at any point that the 'borg was no fully capable of ordering someone dead if there was a need, "You are knowing better than I am where best field of fire for boom gun is. Position self for pinpoint fire support." he adds, before checking the power levels on his systems, pointedly unslinging one of his heavy grenade rifles and cradling it in two arms, a drum of armour-piercing striped charges clamped to the underside.

 It doesn't point at anyone, it doesn't even lift - but what it does pretty clearly declare is that if anyone starts anything anytime in the next few minutes, it's going to get real ugly before it gets pretty.

 Which of course is what he has in mind as the big tiger heads towards the nearest, largest or most authoritarian-looking group gathering around the vehicles puffing away on his cigar in the fashion of someone opening a dialogue rather than wave cybernetic dicks, "Good afternoon - is perhaps being reason for all this interest? Maybe we are being illegally parked?"

Drano walks behind the bar and after opening a bottle of whisky, flips the visor of his armor up and takes a long healthy swig from the bottle, downign about half of it in one gulp. Closing the visor back down he utters the words: “Fuckin’ pussies....” to the bar’s partons. “....if any of you had a pair of balls you’d be fighting for Tolkeen, not hiding out in this shit hole you call a bar.”

Walking out from behind the bar Drano looks out a window to see what the fuck Captain Vickor was talking about.

Seeing that Lt. Pierce has the audacity to murder the owner and then sit around in his establishment drinking his alcohol, Van is left feeling unnerved. He watches the quaking stool pigeons, drunk and terrified, and can't help but think how pathetic they are. The fact that they were sticking around didn't sit well, if for no other reason than that there was clearly a bigger problem brewing outside.

Van holds his position, waiting for Drano to take the way out, but seeing that he's not he shakes his head. "Fuck it," he says, going back the way they came. If Lt. Pierce wanted to have a victory drink over his recent kill, he was welcome to, but Van was going to do something useful.

Once outside he makes his way around on his hoverboard, trying to get a good vantage point on the impending squall.

"Aw shit..." McCloud mutters under his breath, then louder, so the thugs can hear, "No, I don't think that's what we'll be doing.  In fact, it'd be wise for ya'll to just go about your business and leave us in peace before the entire armored division we've got backing us up decides to roll over this little shitsplat you call a town and burn it to the ground as CS sympathizers.  Ya dig?"

OOC: Probably should've brought it up before now, but I just realized that McCloud has 6th Sense and Mind Block.  Just FYI...

The Glitterboy suit stops in the middle of the street as Comartin surveys the rooftops using his enhanced vision and onboard targeting system to determine the best field of fire. After only a matter of seconds he takes a couple steps back and to the left pausing only to snatch a small sedan by it's bumper. Using the suits robotic strength he flips the car onto it's side and steps behind his newly acquired "soft" cover. The Boomgun swings forward from it's shoulder mounted position and the hydraulics in the suits legs whine loudly as the stabilizing pylons in the feet drive deep through the hardened surface of the street into the terra firma below. Comartin waits silently his first shot aimed in such a manner that two of the black clad soldiers next to one another will feel the sting of his hypersonic flechette rounds.

   Forge touches her ear as if she is receiving a transmission.

   After a few seconds, she looks back at the trooper with the blue arm band who has been speaking to her.  "It seems there was an altercation between one of our rookies and one of your civilians.  There is a serious injury.  I have medical training and will try to help.  Shimrod, we need to go now, hurry!"

   Forge will give Shimrod a glance that shows she is very serious.  With the information she has gleaned from their radio band, getting out of this bar and into a more strategically beneficial position is her primary goal at this point.  She hopes she has provided enough disinformation to at least prevent them from attacking.  Even with their advanced technology, she doesn't plan to attack fifteen armed soldiers inside their stronghold without back-up.

   Forge will lead Shimrod out the door closest to Dyvalis as he still approaches, in case the soldiers open fire there will be someone who can provide cover.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:56, Wed 02 Sept 2009.

Amy quicky hands over the baby to its mother offering her most reassuring smile through the faceplate of her terrain hopper helmet before turning back to watch the truck and the men with stun batons, wondering just how bad this might get.  Still she does her best to stay calm and doesn't reach for the rifle slung over her shoulder not wanting to escalate things as she moves to stand by McCloud, keeping herself a half step forward given she's armored and he isnt.

McCloud lowers the faceplate of his Free Quebec GB pilot armor (Old Bones special, half off!).  "Well, we gonna go our separate ways or are you guys gonna have to explain to the rest of these folks why they lost their town?" he says to the stone-faced grunts squared off against him and Amy.

His senses fully absorbing the situation, Shimrod follows Forge's lead and falls back, his face still expressionless. He will allow his superior to exit first, should she so choose.

   The civilians remain hiding under their tables at first while the lieutenant drinks and Van leaves the bar. One of the men slowly crawls out from hiding, trembling with his hands out in front of him, he slowly makes his way for the exit, waiting to see if Drano will kill him too (at which point he would dive for the floor).

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   The driver responds to McCloud "We don't want MORE dead bodies... your people took first blood. Now get in the fucking truck and we will finish this. But don't think for a second we won't blaze you both down if you try to fight, run or call for help. I am sorry it has to come to this..."

The mother and her toddler walk away quickly and disappear into one of the homes.

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   Forge and Shimrod both leave the establishment, with the leader turning to glare at them just as they leave. They can see the small gathering at the intersection with the vehicles and the audience. Dyvalis and Squad Two are just on the east side of the intersection. The troops bash out windows, and some climb up onto the roof. They don't open fire but they do take aim.

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   Their are no visible leaders or officers among the armoured troops at the intersection. One of them is indeed a Cyborg (German Man Hunter), all are armed but no weapons are aimed until Silvermasque approaches. 'Masque suddenly has several rifles and energy cannons pointed at him as he walks up to a group of five on street-level. One of them yells out "Stop right there asshole!"

"Hey!" McCloud replies hotly, "We ain't killed anybody!  We just got here, for christ's sake!  And we ain't going anywhere.  You seriously don't know who you're messing with, sir." There's no hint of threat in McCloud's voice, just simple explanation.  Thinking quickly, he hits the chin stud in his helmet that activates the radio so the rest of the unit can hear this.  "We're not some group of bandits from out in the wilderness and most of the guys I'm with have only one response to aggression: overwhelmingly inappropriate return of violence.  This ain't a threat, it's a warning.  Get out of our way, let us do what we came here to do and nobody else needs to get hurt."

 Two more strides follow the threat - not enough to actually bring 'Masque up to the group, but enough to make it clear that he's responding to 'good manners' rather than naked threat without pressing too close to the five-man fireteam. Once again he then spends a few moments pointedly not responding as he taps ash from his cigar and examines its progress... and only then addresses the group directly.

 "Boys and girls. You are having very many guns - is being enough guns to be turning me into greasy smear, I am sure. Now I am having less guns - but they are being very big indeed." - he doesn't really need to indicate the Glitterboy hunkered down in cover at the end of the street or the massive grenade launcher he's toting like an assault rifle to refine his point, and so he doesn't - "So let us be pretending that I am all scared and you are all intimidated and we can move on to important question. How is it that you are seeing this going?"

 In other words gentlemen... what is it that you want out of this stand-off, and perhaps - just perhaps - how can I help you get it?

Amy looks equally confused as McCloud at the man's words, but lets her companion speak for them both.  Instead she glances nervously around for a good way out and watches the men.  Deciding right then that if they go for guns instead of their shock batons she's getting herself and McCloud out of there.

OOC:

So the guys out of the truck have shock batons, are there any guys on McCloud and myself who already have rifles out?


Response to McClouds below,

I thought the undisclosed number of guys were back at the vehicle park area.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:35, Sun 06 Sept 2009.

Four guys with neural maces out front ready to stun you both. The passenger and a second guy got out of the cab with rifles. Not aimed AT you, but could be in a moment. They are also just a few feet away. The driver got out on top of the truck, who also has a rifle. You are both facing the side of the truck, it is facing north, towards the intersection.

Hope this helps...

"Seriously," McCloud says.  "We're going to leave now.  You go your way, protect your townsfolk, I understand, really.  Just stay out of our way and we'll try to keep things civil.  If you've got any complaints about the behavior of members of our unit, you take it up with the officers."

He takes a step back away from the group, showing his intention to move off.

Shimrod moves up in support, holding his staff. Human reactions were still ab it of a mystery to him, what with all the posturing and hidden intentions. His military experience in the past has not allowed the enemy the luxury of negotiation.

Van spots McCloud and Amy. Despite not thinking it terribly professional to broadcast non-direct transmissions, he gets the point, and they are going to need the big guns. He approaches from behind, taking aim. From the trajectory of his descent McCloud should be able to see him, in time to get out of the way as a volley of grenades flood the cabin of the truck, positioned beautifully to disable the vehicle and cause a good distraction for his comrades to flee. (Natural 20!)

McCloud hears Van's message and the sound of a volley of grenades coming in from behind and knows his transmission did its job.  "Run!" he shouts at Amy then takes off back in the direction the team parked their vehicles.

With a rather undignified yelp Amy is off.  Her first two steps moving to scoop up McCloud, grateful for servo assisted strength and then she is off.  While terrain hopper armor is well known for being able to sustain speeds of around 120 mph while soaring through the air it is quite a sight to see it reach that  while still on the ground before the first jet assisted dodge she takes.

OOC:

Actions
1 - Pick up McCloud
2 - 5 Run jump and dodge towards the area with the Glitter boy suits.

00:04, Today: Amy Weyland-Yutani rolled 69 using 4d20+7 with rolls of 18,18,8,18. 4 rolls to dodge while moving. (the roll is actually 1d20+25 to dodge for each one, so my modified rolls are as below)
43, 43, 33, 43.  (it's good to be a speed demon and run away!)

One of the riflemen in front of Silvermasque, slightly shorter than the others replies "Us? you fucks came in here and started attacking people! We are defending ourselves! Just get the fuck out of here, you are just as bad as the Coalition!"

and then there is the explosion to the south...

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Van's surprise assault works perfectly, and the truck is blown apart by a volle of grenades. The driver who was on top is thrown to the ground several feet away, and the others duck for cover. Amy and McCloud use this moment to flee the scene and make their way towards the vehicles (north to the intersection).

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Forge and Shimrod are still with the members of squad two standing outside the bar...
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:44, Fri 18 Sept 2009.

"Umm, thanks for the, oof, save, ow..." McCloud grunts as Amy leaps and bounds away from the explosions with him slung in a decidedly undignified manner over her shoulder.

"But I, whuff, think I can, urgh, make it from here..."

 Politely - though with a slight rumble at the 'you fucks' line just to make it clear that he doesn't like it but isn't going to argue it just now, 'Masque replies "So far I have not been attacking anyone, but is being whole lot of confusion just now. I am thinking best thing is to be talking to whomev..."

 Boom. Boomboomboom. Ba-da-boom.

 The rippling series of explosions draw an almost instantaneous reaction from 'Masque, the oversized cyborg dropping into a low riflemans crouch and part-turns towards the direction of the blast, his grenade launcher coming up to a 'ready' but not aimed position tucked into his shoulder, the hands on his other side raised palms-flat towards the mercenary fireteam as he engages a fair portion of the power of his augmented voicebox to call out "Hold fire, hold fire!" to all and sundry, both directed at his own side and, presumably the jittery mercenaries.

Despite the situation Comartin feels pretty good. He is afterall snug inside his Chromium Guardsmen and he know that these fools must realize how seriously outgunned they are. Then the explosions register somewhere behind his position not too far away and Masque drops into a combat stance. Had his pylons not been engaged and his auto targeting not been locked on to the gunmen standing on the roof of the building across the way then he definitely would not have fired. The instinctive trigger pull happened almost too automatically to be called a complete accident. A sonic boom thunders across the town, the windows in nearby stores explode, Comartin swears inside his helmet but no one can hear him. As another flechette round chambers itself he adjusts aim slightly and prepares to fire, he holds just in case, though he knows it is likely too late for explanations.

Peering out the window Drano looked over to the man trying to crawl out of the bar. “I’d go out the back door if I were....” His sentence is cut off in mid sentence as the window explodes. A direct result of Comartin firing his boom gun. Getting up Drano looks to the man on the floor and says a few more words before finally responding to Major Karno on private comm. channel. “I told you, now get out the back door this place is about to become a fuckin’ war zone.”

Amy skidding to a halt beside McClouds glitterboy does just as he asked setting him down, glad for the privacy of helmet and fur to hide her blush.  "Her you are sir." She murmurs glancing around nervously to see if anyone here is getting ready to start a fight as well.

"Thanks," McCloud mutters, recombobulating himself.  "Get to your machine, Private," he says, punching in the unlock code on his GB and waiting for the hatch to open.  "I think we're going to have to shoot our way out of here whether we like it or not..."

As if to punctuate his words, the thunderous sonic explosions of nearby boom gun fire split the air.

He climbs into his armor and seals the hatch, enclosing himself in the comfortable familiarity of his old war monger.

Shimrod listens intently to the radio chatter, and awaits orders from Forge.

Van's small but loud carpet bombing of the truck may have saved Amy and McCloud from potential abduction, but it has started a chain reaction of unfortunate events. Comartin lets loose a shot at one of the gathering troops on the roof tops by the vehicles. The poor man is blown apart, and his chunks shower down on Mephisto, McCloud, Amy and Hopper among the vehicles.

The grunts in front of Silvermasque hesitate for a moment, before the entire squad opens fire on the tiger borg. Likewise from the surrounding rooftops, the shooters rain down laser fire on the four, blood-stained Tolkeen soldiers mentioned above, while finding cover to avoid another shot from the glitter boy.

The squad that had been blown off their feet by Van, has since regained themselves and are trying to blow the young techno wizard out of the sky with a spray of plasma blasts and rail gun rounds.

And to follow suit, the bar full of these Desire soldiers, opens fire like a firing squad on Forge, Shimrod and Dyvalis' squad. Na-Wa finds himself the target of several roof top soldiers...

The other squads have not yet arrived to the center of town, this could get a whole lot worse before it gets better.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:51, Fri 02 Oct 2009.

"Comartin, you crazy dumbass sonofa--!" McCloud shouts as he clambers into his armor and buttons himself up in the cockpit.  Switching on the suit's systems, he stomps out into the street alongside the other GB and lays down suppressing fire with his boom gun, strafing the surrounding rooftops (and probably removing pretty much anything the grunts could use for cover).

OOC: I'm just blasting away at the surrounding rooflines.  Do I need to roll 6 separate attacks?

Comartin winces inside his armored suit... for all of about 1/2 of a second. Flipping on the TW Noise supression he fires on the next target he had already tracked after his first shot. Then the missile pod mounted on his opposite shoulder pops open and beleches fire as six plasma mini-missiles come corkscrewing out. Immediately after the first a second volley of four this time comes blasting forth. Volley one goes high up into the air and then rockets down at the assembled rooftop troops firing down onto McCloud and the others. The second volley comes in at more or less the same troops at a different trajectory just in case they are able to intercept or live through the first blast. Of course even if they do the building they are standing on likely will not even though Comartin wasn't thinking that far ahead. In fact he is only thinkng of creating more distance before he brings any more heat on himself so he uses a jet assisted leap backwards to locate a new firing position.

 Some days it just doesn't pay to chew through the leather straps in the morning.

 With most of the squad scattered to hell and gone it's all soldiers for themselves for the first few seconds of the firefight as the opening volley of laser and plasma fire from the soldiers in front of him spends itself in a rippling storm of explosive lighting smeared across a hemispherical barrier of invisible force between the big 'borg and themselves, hammering into the force-field but not quite slamming it flat before 'Masque quite simply extends his arms to either side and lunges forwards, making every effort to dash the gunmen clean off their feet like so many very-much-lighter-than-he-is skittles.

 In the ticking fractions of a second between inspiration and execution, his mind races along electronically stimulated paths and orders start snapping out... "'Masque to Third Squad, fall back on southern intersection! McCloud and Amy, exit west, Drano and Van, exit south, Forge and Shimrod, fall in with us and provide covering fire!"

When the shit started to fly Drano exited the building he was in and made a beeline to his Chromium Guardsmen. Either he would make it, or be cut down in the process.

Shimrod reacts quickly to Silvermasque's orders. Scanning for ideal targets among the assholes in the bar, he fires a trio of shots with his Entity Fear Pistol at the gathering crew in a bid to buy some time while moving with the others.

Amy dives for her beloved pelican, running up the ramp and for the cockpit transmitting as she goes, "Hopper get on, we're going, now!"  She leaves the ramp down for just a moment even as she activates the cloak on her transport, and it begins to fade out of sight as the rest of the systems warm up.

Shimrod opens fire on the fortified bar, just before they all stop firing for no apparent reason. Followed by a meteor crashing down from the sky, leveling the entire building and probably killing them all. Forge and Shimrod were shot once or twice each, along with the rest of Squad Two before the meteor hit.



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Silvermasque effectively tackles four of the five-man fire squad in front of him after only being hit three times. The Cyborg manages to dodge however, by diving to one side, leaving himself open for a follow up attack from 'Masque.


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Hopper takes a few shots to his armour, before foloowing AMy inside the drop ship, along with Mephisto. They both move to weapon positions and wait for it to take off.

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Drano narrowly evades several incoming shots, burning holes in the ground around his feet as he makes his dash for his Glitter Boy, making it in one piece.

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Comartin levels one of the buildings with his relentless missiles, and now McCloud is ready to join in the fray with his GB as well.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:50, Sun 11 Oct 2009.

 The initial intention was to try and end this short, vicious gun battle before things escalate further than they need to, but the storm of laser-fire pounding against his rapidly collapsing energy barrer persuades 'Masque that more serious efforts are in order - an impression only made all the stronger by the staggering explosion that envelops one of the nearby bars, killing just about anyone not wearing armour with an air supply who was lucky enough not to be directly under the blast.

 Pinwheeling on the spot he makes no effort whatsoever to moderate the impact of his two-tonne frame on the members of the fireteam he more or less landed upon, he pounces like the namesake of his frame, one hand darting to his webbing and simply slaps the activator on one of his smoke grenades, enveloping the resulting scuffle in a rapidly growing and utterly impenetrable cloud of thermally opaque mist as his other three hands dart for solid wrestling grips.

Rarely surprised, Shimrod is nevertheless in complete awe of the massive meteor strike. He makes a mental note to find out more about it later, then continues to retreat with the others.

Drano drops his rifle beside his Chromium Guardsmen, if there was time he’d scoop it up. If not well, there would probably be plenty of dead bodies around not needing a rifle as they exited this shit hole of a town.

After punching in the entry code to his mecha the first thing Drano did was activate the TW invisibility feature. He wasn’t sure if the feature would work during start up. But being unseen for the few more seconds needed before he could fight seemed like a good idea.

Van appears above Drano, covering him while he suits up. "Happy sir? A slaughter; that's what you were going for, right?" he yells down at his CO.

Once Drano is in his power armor, Van takes to the sky again. He maintains a altitude of 800ft, using his optics to scan the chaos below, looking for another situation to swoop in on like some kind of superhero. Really though, he just enjoys the perspective that distance gives him.

PM

McCloud radios Drano once the lieutenant is buttoned up in his suit, "Sir, glad to see you made it.  This whole town's out of it's fuckin' mind!"

He continues laying down suppressing fire at the surrounding rooflines to keep the attackers pinned down so the non-laser resistant members of the squad can get to safety.

OOC: And he's also still wondering if he's supposed to be rolling or not. ;)
(post edited to fix OOC confusion. :P )
This message was last edited by the player at 16:25, Wed 14 Oct 2009.

PM

PM

The rifle team backs away from Silvermasque quickly, firing a little less frequently as they focus on leaving the area. The 'borg however marches right on up to Silvermasque ready to put their machines to the test. As the smoke surrounds Silvermasque, no one is around to watch as the 'borg walks right into a perfectly executed wrestling take-down and pin by 'Masque. The other troops soon move into a jog, and then a sprint for their lives.

The men on the rooftops disappear back into the buidlings or climb down fire escapes to escape between the buildings. Comartin dropped a bunch but can't see any more from his current position.

It is around this time that Drano is suited up, and McCloud talks to him over the radio. And Van flies above the town to look down on it from above.

Drano, along with the dropship disappear from sight...

 'Masque has a definite advantage in his non-human morphology and the greater emphasis of the Russian Warlords on the heroic qualities of the cyborg warror - which both results in heavier investment in technology and a psychology that can stand existance encased in so much cerametal alloy. The fluid sidestep is one that any American-built 'borg soldier could match, but after the grip-and-lock armholds he still has limbs left over to lift and slam the enemy cyborg down into the pavement with enough force to shatter stone, no more than denting the other warriors armour but quite firmly immobilising him for now...

 "Please to be holding still and I will not be having to pull out brain-case and juggle, da? - I am needing you to ask commander to back off before too many more of your people are having ass shot off." he states to the back of the foes head before starting to fall back through the smoke cloud, trusting to his inertial guidance to lead him back to the intersection where the fireteam is grouping, bringing his undoubtedly still vigorous 'catch' with him.

 As he goes, he's triggering his radio once more.

Making his way back to his power armor, Shimrod gets into his K-Universal, feeling infinitely more comfortable...he begins a quick scan of the area after bringing everything online.

A volley of grenades fall from the heavens. Is it a bird? A plane? Nah, just some cocky TW kid, raining death from above.

Drano ignored the sarcastic remark form Sgt. Van, part of him was right anyways. Besides if these town’s people were cooperative from the get go then none of this would be happening.
Picking up his human sized rifle and stashing it in his mecha’s left cargo Drano issues orders, queuing off of Sgt Van’s intel. “Third squad let’s regroup and take out this demon thing before it fucks us up.”

“Van harass them as best you can and try to lead them down the main street and my position. If it gets too hot for you back off, and form up on me.”

“Silvermasque, I want you and Comartin to flank them.” Not knowing their exact position Drano gives them an open option. “Attack from the left or right, whichever works best for you.”

“Amy stay invisible, get behind the enemy force. Once we open up on them attack them from the rear, don’t let any escape. Until then give myself and Silvermasque directions. I want to hit them from the front.” The Russian cyborg would need to coordinate his direction of attack with the dropship.

Knowing that he didn’t list everyone in the squad Drano gave those members open orders as well. “Everyone one else form up with whichever officer your closest to. Myself of Silvermasque.” His orders complete Drano begins to move up the main street. Still invisible he ignores any civilians, and the armed but retreating towns people.

As Amy shifts position towards the rear of the enemy but staying up and out of the line of fire from any friendly boom guns.  That would not be a happy way to go.  With little time she calls out, "Hopper did you make it, if so strap in, we might have to shoot our way out of this but I hope not."  Repositioned she does her best to start giving updates on enemy and friendly unit positions to Drano.

Still visible to draw laser fire from the rooftop snipers, McCloud ceases blowing chunks out of the town's skyline (such as it is) and forms up with where he last saw Pierce's GB.

"I'm with you, Lieutenant," he says, but looks around uncertainly, "Err, I think I am.  Are you moving?"

His scan complete (anything interesting turn up?), the power-armored Kittani takes a position near Drano and waits for the next step.

The subdued cyborg answers Silvermasque almost trembling in fear. "The order is coming out now... we have been ordered to fall back... I don't want to die..."

Shimrod, McCloud and the others lose sight of any targets. The town militia appears to be on the run. To the west, a huge, black, spider-like creature comes into sight on the street making a mad dash for freedom outside of the town.

 "Then is lucky day, da? - You are being prisoner of glorious Tolkeen army, with glowing future in either mercenary forces or labour battalions far from front line ahead of you." 'Masque replies cheerfully as he starts to fall back towards Third Squad's rendevous point bringing his prisoner with him, only to pause and take cover as Drano's orders start to come in, his myriad of sensor systems probing the chemically opaque smoke-bank he's used to break up lines of fire.

 "'Masque to Pierce - be advised irregular enemy forces are under orders to fall back and disengage, I am able to pass communications to their commanding officer, but I am not seeing any demons, please confirm target and location."

Amy goes for another five hundred feet of altitude to get a better overview of the situation, watching sensors and visually both to try and get a better idea of whats up so she can report it to Drano.

Comartin keeps his sensors active and his boomgun trained on retreating enemy personnel. He looks around at the carnage created in a matter of only a few seconds, much of it done by him, and fights off a sick feeling.