Snowy didn't eat or drink much at the little settlement's feast, as he's still feeling very shaking after the morning's confrontation. While it means he misses out on the best meal he's going to get for months, at least it saves him from Yazzie's result.

While Adam is off getting the plans, he goes down to the riverside and methodically cleans the chunks of brains, skull and hair off his person, uniform and equipment. He looks out across the river and exhales, letting the tension out. Replacing his kit in the correct pouches, he looks around and then heads back to the tug's foredeck. There, he removes his shotgun from the pack and lays it close at hand. Then he methodically cleans the M4 carbine, scrubbing the gunk out of the action the post-nuke 'glow worm' rounds have left in the bore and guts of the gun. That done, he goes and fills sandbags until Adam is ready for him.

Reclaiming his weapons, he looks at the under deck stress members on the plans and clucks his lips, trying to find a way to mount the weapon while allowing the hatch to open. Unable to find a solution, he settles on a modified and simplified Mark 46 mount that he is familiar with from his days at sea. He'll cut a hatch into the cargo hatch to allow for ammo to be handed up to the gunners, and use the hatch as the basis for the forward mount. He plans on a serious bit of protection here, knowing that the Vasilek and the pilot House will attract most of the incoming fire.

Finishing up inventorying the treasure trove of medical supplies, Anneka wandered back up on deck to see what help she could give. Poking her head into the radio room she spotted Clarence.
"Need a hand with anything? I'm done for the moment."

Approached by Dawid as they board the URAL Konrad stops and speaks.

"You would be a liability to the group if you werent armed Dawid so I have no problems with you taking a spare rifle. Just make sure you use it well and you make may it back into my good book"

With that comment Konrad grins and claps Dawid on the back

"Now lets get this show moving"

Saluting he replied, "at once, sir." and left.

He retrieved the worn AK-74 and its three magazines from the armoury.  It was one of the earlier copies, with a brown-red plastic magazine and pistol grip, with a worn wooden stock.  He seated the one mostly-emptied magazine into the weapon with a click, pulled back on the charging handle and set the safety-selector switch on single shot.  The AK-74 shared the truly poor design feature of the AK-47 where the large safety handle on the right of the receiver had an up position where it would inhibit the travel of the bolt, a lower setting for single and full-auto being in the middle.  In the excitement of reading the rifle for combat, it was not unheard of to accidentally push all the way down and set the rifle to single instead of automatic fire.  The Polish Wz88 had solved this problem with a separate selector switch on the left hand side above the trigger.

He called out, "Firing!" in English and Polish.  Then laid down and zeroed the sights by carefully aiming and firing the rest of the magazine at a rusty tin can a couple dozen metres away, stopping to adjust the sights every few shots.  Satisfied, he stood up and replaced the empty magazine with a full one, then placed the empty and the one full spare magazine in his 4-cell ammunition pouch.

Upon hearing or observing Foster lacking basic NBC protection while heading into a contaminated zone, he resolved to beg, borrow or steal a mask for him to wear.  He wouldn't leave without doing this, that would be criminal!

After hours of veiled but ulimately empty threats, the grey sky makes good and a light rain begins to fall.

The team have been at work for about an hour when their various tasks are interupted by two faint but distinctly audible whistle blasts that seem to have eminated from the crest of the tumulus, in the shadow of which the Krolowa is moored. Uller, who hasn't been doing much of anything much but grumbling this afternoon, calls out from the open bridge door to anyone within hearing range, first in Polish, then in English. His tone is urgent but not panicked,

"A boat is coming! A boat is coming!"

From around the trees bordering the riverbank, a small, open, Boston Whaler-type boat can be seen motoring downstream through the light mist on the near side of the channel. It's difficult to make out any detail, given the current weather conditions, but the boat appears to be carrying three occupants.

Actions?
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:39, Tue 26 June 2007.

Parks looks toward town as the whistles blowing starts. Grabbing his rifle, he prepares to head into town when he hears Uller's call. Parks looks to the River and sees the boat moving thru the mist."Boat!"Parks repeats for those on shore. Looking over to Yazzie, Parks goes prone behind a pile of already filled sandbags that they had just completed. Parks sets the bipod on his rifle and sights in on the driver of the possible threat. Parks starts estimating the range while waiting for some indication of intent from the new vessel.



Parks
On shore behind pile of sand bags
SVD [10] + 3x 10rnd mags
Sighted in on the boat driver, waiting for some sign of intent.



[Private to 'Old' Adam Rataj: I have no clue how far the sand bagging area is from the tug or if i have line of sight. I will adjust my post as needed if my guessing is wrong.]

John will pull out his binos and start to scan the target area of the boat as he lies prone behind the sand bags next to gunny parks. (Observation check) He will then start to make range estamations and call out the range of the boat for the gunny to set his sights. He will also make a windage call and say it out loud to the gunny.


"gunny the targets on the boat are?"

"gunny the range to the boat is?"

"gunny the windage call is?"

John will stay in position and spot targets for the gunny.

Clarence almost starts as Anneka appears, quietly cat-like.

"No, ma'am. They cleaned this place out real good. Thanks for the offer though."

Hearing Uller shout from up ahead jolts Clarence into action. He twists around in the cramped quarters, grabbing his helmet, vest, and carbine from near his duffel. He quickly wriggles into his protective gear as he heads towards Anneka in the doorway.

"Let's go see what's goin' down out there."

Snowy's head snaps up, and while he's trying to work out what's going on he's reflexively scooped up his rifle.
At Uller's and Park's call, he lopes aft down the starboard side to the companionway up to the wheelhouse, dragging on gloves and fastening his helmet. Springing up the stairs, he runs to the riverside DShKM and grabs the belt on the left side of the weapon. He feeds the belt tab through the feed guide and the first round is over the stop pawl. Reaching over, he grabs the cocking handle and retracts it fully, loading and cocking the weapon. Glancing up to where the boat is, he lets loose the friction clamp and elevates the weapon fully, before traversing the weapon towards the boat, He's now looking past the barrel, elevated fully to signal non-aggression, but ready to drop the muzzle and engage.

Hearing the cry, Anneka cut short what she was about to say and dashed for the weapons still to be installed. Although the mortar, AGS and third DSHK were still unusable, the RPK-74 was something that would add immediate firepower.
Snatching up the smaller weapon and ensuring she had at least two extra full magazines, she took to cover and aimed the weapon at the other boat.
Unlike some who still lived in this war-torn world, she had long since learnt to never allow a potential enemy any unnecessary advantage. If they turned out to be friendly, then appologies would be in order.
Until then...
[Private to GM: Yes, I'm aware it'll probably take time but in her mind it's the best she can do. The only heavy weapon capable of firing into that arc is claimed and her Uzi is next to useless.]

The team takes up defensive postures on ship and shore. The small boat continues along downriver until it is roughly even with the tug. The figure in the bow suddenly points towards the Krolowa and the small boat swings around and heads towards the near shore without altering is casual cruising speed. Through their scopes, John and Yazzie can clearly see the three occupants. All three wear various Polish military uniforms with the addition of the dark blue Krakow ORMO armband. The man in the bow and the tillerman are both clearly armed but neither are brandishing their weapons in a threatening manner.

Adam steps out from the bridge onto the companionway and lifts a pair of binnoculars to his eyes. Uller limps up behind him. Seeing the boat, Uller mutters loud enough for Snow to hear,

"Oh, it's this asshole again."

Adam adds emphatically in his booming captain's voice, "Don't shoot! These are friends." This last statement lacks a genuine ring of sincerity.

The boat continues its approach until it runs up on the mudflat against which the Krolowa is nestled. After scolding the tillerman, the foremost occupant climbs over the gunwhale and begins wading the short intervening distance through the muck towards the side of the Krolowa. He's followed by a woman.

[OOC: Snow, Clarence, and Anneka are standing near the rail. They can see and speak to the new comers. The tug now blocks Gunny and Yazzie's view of the small boat and it's occupants. Actions?]

[Private to Griet Niewiadomski: You are now in play. Welcome aboard.]

[Private to Anneka Soleblume: OOC: That's fine. It's a perfectly reasonable action.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:48, Thu 28 June 2007.

Griet advanced slowly through the mud, taking care not to fall.  The AKR banged against her hip until she shrugged it to lie across her back and butt on its sling.  The stock was folded so that it was virtually invisible from the front, though the holstered pistol at her waist still proclaimed her to be armed.

Any woman who wasn't armed was a target in these desperate times.

The mud sucked and squelched, smelling of decaying plants and rotted fish.  Griet largely ignored it.  Those smells, bad as they were, didn't hold a candle to the charnel house of a ruined city full of corpses in states from freshly dead to maggot writhing to so many charred shadows outlined on nuclear-melted concrete walls.  That did something to you after a while.  You simply stopped worrying about it and turned your nose off.

As they grew closer, the angle of the sun and the brim of her cap worked to keep her face partially obscured in shadow.  Griet's having to look down every few steps to check her footing also worked to keep her face hidden except for occasional glimpses.

As they neared the side of the Krolowa, Griet looked up and scanned the tug from one end to the other.  Those watching saw her eyes meet theirs briefly, the run over their visible weapons before continuing on from bow to stern.  She stopped walking when the man did and waited, face empty of expression.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:19, Thu 28 June 2007.

Equipped for battle, Clarence exits the superstructure ready for the worst. Seeing Snow's alert yet relaxed posture and hearing Adam's shouted reassurances, Clarence experiences a marked but not unwelcome unpuckering sensation. Weapon lowered in a ready but unthreatening position, he  makes his way along the companionway to the HMG mount.

"What do we have here?" Clarence asks, keeping an eye on the man and woman slogging towards the tug.

"Is this guy a problem?" Snowy answers Uller quietly, the muzzle of DShKM is still skywards. He looks at the two with hard eyes, at this range the heavy machine gun would blow them into pink rags, he then applies the friction lock leaving the weapon pointing up.

Snowy transfers his hands to his carbine. Wierdly enough - Snowy realises your mind does funny things at times - he thinks of the magazine with five rounds short in his cargo pocket.

Parks watches as the boat slides out of sight behind the tug then lightly taps Yazzie. "Moving up. Cover" Parks says in a hushed tone. Parks stands with his SVD at the ready. With a surprisingly fast crouched run,Parks move toward the gangplank. A few feet short, Parks stops and covers for Yazzie.

The call goes thru Parks mind again as he scans the boat. Some of the past conversations he'd heard makes him wary of Adam's bestowed title of friend. Better safe then sorry. I need to see how the Corporal reacts and operated anyway. Parks thinks to himself.

Uller, leaning against the hatchway to the bridge, answers in a low voice. His tone is particularly sour,

"He was an over-aged corporal in the Wojskowa Sluzba Wewnetrzna- the Army Internal Service- before the mutiny. Now he is an officer in the Krakow ORMO. He's probably decided that his 'commission' wasn't big enough..."

Old Adam squeezes past Snow and Milk and clambers down a short exterior ladder to the main deck. The male ORMO officer stands impatiently, fists on his hips, ankle-deep in mud. Adam picks up a rolled up rope ladder with wooden steps and unfurls it over the side.

The male officer is dressed in an old style, but well maintained, Polish raindrop pattern camouflage field uniform with high-vis Krakow ORMO insignia. An ancient PM-63 submachine gun is stuffed into an oversized holster hanging at his hip.

In Polish he quips, "Nie przyśpiesza albo coś..."

[Private to Griet Niewiadomski; Anneka Soleblume: "Don't hurry or anything..."]

Adam snaps back,"Utrzymują wasz krótki na, wasze wygórowanie!"

[Private to Griet Niewiadomski; Anneka Soleblume: "Keep your shorts on, your highness!"]
This message was last edited by the player at 06:04, Fri 29 June 2007.

Anneka relaxed her grip on the RPK and let out a small chuckle as the two Poles exchanged quips. There was obviously no immediate threat here although who really knew anymore? Friends, even family had turned on each other since the war began for the smallest of reasons. She had to admit though, survival was usually high on that list.

When the gunny gets up to move John yells out    "covering"

When the gunny gets into place John yells out     "moving"

As john runs he hears his old instructor of infantry in his head "I'm up he see's me i'm down" after the saying is over he gets down to the closest piece of cover. He the yells out    "I'm set, covering you"

Griet ignored the less than pleasant exchange of words.  With none of the awkwardness a landlubber would have shown, she swarmed up the ladder, even in muddy boots, and stepped onto the deck.  Facing aft she made a quick salute, then turning back to Adam she made another and held it.

"Zezwolenie wobec przyjść na statku?" she asked politely.

[Private to Anneka Soleblume; Dawid Waldus Piotrowski: Polish "Permission to come aboard" or at least I think so.  ]

Adam, seeing that the second ORMO officer is an unfamiliar woman, performs a shallow conciliatory bow and responds,

"Oczywiście. Witają na pokładzie królowa. Niech wychodzić tego deszczu, będzie my?

[Private to Anneka Soleblume; Griet Niewiadomski: Roughly, "Of course. Welcome aboard the Queen. Let's get out of this rain, shall we?"]

Adam makes an "after you" gesture towards the bridge.

Griet let herself be steered towards the bridge.  She stopped and considered her muddy boots for a moment but since Adam didn't seem to object she went ahead onto the bridge.  Once inside, she put herself up against the bulkhead, staying out of the way of the wheel.

It wasn't much of a bridge, certainly nothing like the last ship she'd been aboard, but it was more of a ship than she'd seen since the Twilight War.  Griet's eyes began flicking around, taking in the layout of the controls and the state of the visible machinery.  It also allowed her to look out through the windows of the wheelhouse and survey the deck layout.

She waited for the other ORMO to join her and Adam on the bridge.

Old Adam and the male ORMO officer follow Griet into the bridge leaving the door open behind them.

OOC: The other PCs may follow them into the bridge or remain at their posts. If they stay, Snow and Clarence will be able to hear bits and pieces of the conversation that follows. Either way, Uller will provide translation of the exchange, either in real-time or after the fact, depending on what your PC chooses to do. Feel free to jump in if you want. Uller will translate for you as well.

Old Adam removes his hat and addressed the male ORMO officer,

"Well Porucznik* Zewlakow, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

Zewlakow reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a crushed pack of cigarrettes. He casually removes one and lights it, failing to offer one to anyone else. After a couple of quick puffs, he replies,

"Why are you still here Rataj?"

"We are preparing the tug for the trip." Adam responds matter of factly.

"You picked up the bargeload of bicycles and sewing machines a week ago, Old man. The Rada are getting impatient. They made a significant investment in this boat and they're starting to wonder if they'll ever see a return. It's no secret you picked up a load of foreign mercenaries this morning. People are talking. This is beginning to look less and less like a legitimate business trip and more like a private... adventure."

He takes long drag on his cigarette while Adam responds,

"The foreigners, they are security. I only wish to protect the Rada's investment. Surely, that is not hard to understand."

"Perhaps. But some are saying that you're ultimate destination is Warsaw. That was not part of the agreement."

"Well..."

"So, Old man, the Rada are sending someone along with you to make sure you do your job, and nothing else. This is Chief Petty Officer Griet Niewiadomski, formerly of the Polish navy. She is to act as an 'advisor' and agent of the Krakow ORMO on behalf of the Rada. She has been authorized to take command of this vessel should you deviate from the agreed upon mission. You will go no further than Sandomierz and you will proceed with dispatch. Do I make myself clear?"

"Of course, Porucznik Zewlakow."

"Good."

Uller mutters in English, "This is fucked. The only thing the Rada did was grant us a 'permit' to salvage the engines- and we had to pay for that..."

Zewlakow replies sharply, "And those engines belong to Krakow. The ORMO will come here in force and take full possesion of this vessel if my instructions are not obeyed to the letter. Your mercenaries won't be able to protect you."

Seeking to defuse the situation, Adam speaks up abruptly, "We will depart tomorrow, as soon as it is light."

"You'd better. No more delays old man. If I have to come back here, it will be at the head of 100 men. See to it that you're gone in the morning."

Zewlakow finishes his cigarrette, dropping it on the floor and stubbing it out with his boot. Uller balls his fists in response only to receive a stern warning glance from Adam. The ORMO lietenant turns on his heel and, without so much as a goodbye to his female colleague, exits the wheelhouse.

*Lieutenant

[Actions?]
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:45, Sun 01 July 2007.

John will continue to bound for cover to cover with the gunny until they have eyes on the target.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:15, Sun 01 July 2007.

John and Gunny move about two dozen meters obliquely through the the woods until they can reacquire the target. A lone man with a slung rifle sits idly in the small boat, the bow of which has been run up on the the mudflat against which the tug is moored. The other two occupants are gone. He doesn't seem to have noticed the sniper team.