Contract #6: For Whom The Bell Tolls: Part I

[Drew Buddy]

Adams stops next to Haywire.

< The Tir have the most thorough and paranoid border security in the world. When I was growing up, I always heard stories of people disappearing in remote woods in the north, having accidentally strayed across the border. Things must be bad for them to allow a gap lik this to open up. I just hope Legion doesn't notice it. >

[GM Nick]

Any trace of jovial nonchalance is absent from Haywire's voice as she replies to Doc.

< This is just the outer sector where the underclasses live, but you're absolutely right. We should be neck-deep in watcher spirits. >

[GM Nick]

Landfall is an abandoned warehouse at the outset of the harbor district. The derelict building is old enough to predate the use of ferrous concrete, constructed instead with stone and corrugated iron. The air is abrasive, filled with the odor of brine and rust and industry. Under the cover of night and shrouded in the chill brume, the team makes their final approach. Haywire takes point--nautical infiltration being her forte--and moves from pylon to pylon, stopping intermittently to signal the others to follow.

A boat lift in the rear of the building makes an ideal point of entry. Haywire climbs lithely up a matrix of support beams to the floor of the warehouse, where she stops. The combat mage lifts a hand and flaps her fingers forward, indicating the rest of the team should follow.

[Conway]

The gentle pressure of the body of water surrounding him is calming as Sinjin closes the electronic throttle of his undersea sled, drifting to a lazy stop in the shadow of Portland's seaport industrial district. The six headlamps of the the borrowed Navy dive kits scan hither and fro, sometimes briefly illuminating the tail ends of curious fish or the brightly colored star-fish that adorn the many concrete pylons of the working docks above. At peace and well adjusted to the weightless motions of neutral buoyancy, Sinjin has enjoyed the brief aquatic adventure. Floating mid water column in the inky blackness, the six soldiers circle up, bringing an end to the innocent private indulgences of this new experience.

<Good to go, here. We gonna split up from here, or shall we towel off first?>

[Conway]

((SHIT I HATE HOW LONG IT TAKES ME TO POST AT WORK. Always like 6 posts while im writing. *SIGH* ))

[John]

Max shakes the last beads of sludgy saltwater from the gloves of his phalanx and climbs up after Haywire.

[Conway]

Sinjin springs upwards, easily navigating the climb with a series of acrobatic maneuvers. Without a word, he takes a knee at the apex and remains motionless.

[GM Nick]

Haywire creeps over to an eroded piece of corrugated metal and positions her helmet so that she can see out through one of many holes in its surface.

< I've never set foot in the Tir before--treaties forbid the entry of UCAS citizens without government approval. Looking at it like this with the starlight on it... >

She shakes her head almost imperceptibly and withdraws her hands from the dessicated surface.

< We should move out. It's probably a good idea to stay incognito, never know where Legion might have ears. >

[Drew Buddy]

Doc reaches the top of the ladder after a climb that could only be described as lethargic when compared to Sinjin's energetic ascent. He walks over to the others, and peers through a gap in the wall, spotting the harbor's parking lot.

"We're also going to need to secure transportation," he says in a low voice, eyeing the pitiful array of options.

[Elliott]

Tyros frown at the surroundings. His arcane senses are tingling but whether its from the presence or conspicuous absence of magic, it's hard to tell.

"Do we have coordinates of where we expect the prince and armor to be? I'd imagine this is probably where we split up..." The big trolls voice fades away along with his body as he weaves his now familiar magics around himself and disappears forms sight (Imp invis, f4; Imp reflex, f3; deflection f4).

[GM Nick]

Tyros' Spells

[Spellcasting (6) + MAG (6) + Power Focus (2) = 1]
4 2 3 2 4 5 3 4 2 1 3 3 4 2
[Spellcasting (6) + MAG (6) + Power Focus (2) = 4]
3 6 2 2 5 2 1 4 6 2 2 3 6 1
[Spellcasting (6) + MAG (6) + Power Focus (2) = 5]
1 3 5 1 5 3 6 5 1 2 2 3 3 5
[WIL (4) + LOG (6) + Centering (4) + Focused Concentration (2) = 6]
5 1 5 3 3 6 6 1 4 5 1 6 2 2 3 2
[WIL (4) + LOG (6) + Centering (4) + Focused Concentration (2) = 3]
4 2 4 3 4 5 2 3 3 2 5 6 4 2 2 3
[WIL (4) + LOG (6) + Centering (4) + Focused Concentration (2) = 7]
2 6 6 1 6 4 2 5 5 1 2 6 4 6 1 1

{{ 1S DAMAGE }}

Tyros winces at a passing headache as the mana surges through his body.

[GM Nick]

A large expanse of concrete shrouded in mist and shadow serves as the parking lot. A few beaten-up sedans sulk in the rear corner, and at the far side is a panel truck. The only movement visible from the team's location is a heavy-loader drone unloading pallets from a cargo freighter.

Haywire inspects the micro-display on the underside of her wrist guard.

< The Prince is pinned down in sector 5, that's a couple klicks North. Looks like the armor is advancing on sector 7, which about the same distance but East. >

[Elliott]

Tyros scan the skyline and strains his ears looking to pick up some indication they are in a war zone. Beyond the noticeable absence of people and security, things seem quiet. Nonetheless, the Mage Isis already unsettled by how mana is already slimy and wiggling through his fingers. Any other quick gesture attempts to bring his invisibility spell up to full force (imp invis, f4 again).

"Looks like we ride in style. Drivers pick your carriages. Good luck team, see you on the other side." No one is quite sure if the troll means after the mission or the afterlife.

[John]

Max assesses the group as they prepare to part, and sizes up the decker and absent troll. Talking to Val, Max says, "Best thing about traveling with Tyros? Our enemies only have to flip a coin for which of us to shoot." The elf grimaces in annoyance and looks down at the parking lot, adding, "I can drive, but I didn't pass my test until the third try.. and it's been a while. We may be in for a bumpy ride.

[GM Nick]

Haywire's teeth glisten beneath her visor as she flashes a cheshire grin at Max.

< The accelerator is the one on the right side, old man. >

[John]

Max glares at Haywire and pulls a cigarette from his pack, feeling that the mage hasn't yet earned a place in the group from which she has the liberty of such remarks. "Save it, sweetheart," the elf says condescendingly.

[Drew Buddy]

Adams rolls his eyes at the banter.

"Let's go catch a ride," he says, strolling out of the building toward the sedans.

[John]

Max walks out beside Doc and gives him a pat on the shoulder. Making eye contact for a moment, the elf says, "Be careful out there, amigo."

[GM Nick]

Val unslings his FN HAR and follows close behind Doc. His gaze sweeps along the rows of buildings decorating the end of the harbor.

< Awful quiet out here... >

[John]

The elf stalks forward into the parking lot, his eyes scanning in between the parked cars and searching up the buildings around them for figures in the windows. As the feeling of unease settles over the group, Max peeks back over his shoulder at the rest of the group, and retrieves Marlowe Mk. II from his comfortable resting place. Holding the cold weapon in his hands in the moment feels like fastening one's seat belt on a dangerous drive through traffic; a sudden and incomplete comfort fills Max's hands and his eyes narrow. His elfin ears listen hard for any signs of life.

[GM Nick]

The shadows of the runners grow longer, shifting in one direction as a pair of headlights swing into view at the end of the parking lot. The vehicle is not at a point where it would reveal the runners, but its trajectory places it on an inevitable path to do just that.

[John]

Max rushes forward, crouching low behind a haggard looking sedan with flat tires. The elf spies through the windows to keep an eye on the approaching vehicle.

[Drew Buddy]

Adams dashes to Max's position, running awkwardly with the extra dry bags.

< Let 'em pass. We don't need complications this early in the mission. >

[John]

Max nods, and affirms, <Read my mind.>

[GM Nick]

Imp. Invis. (Tyros)

[Spellcasting (6) + MAG (6) + Power Focus (2) = 5]
2 2 5 6 1 5 6 1 6 1 2 2 3 3

Resist Drain (Tyros)

[WIL (4) + LOG (6) + Centering (4) + Focused Concentration (2) = 6]
2 3 4 3 1 6 1 5 5 3 5 1 2 6 6 2

Infiltration Test (Doc)

[Infiltration (3) + AGI (9) = 5]
2 5 6 3 2 2 5 1 6 4 4 6

Infiltration Test (Max)

[Infiltration (2) + AGI (10) = 5]
2 4 6 5 5 2 5 1 2 2 6 1

Infiltration Test (Sinjin)

[Infiltration (6) + AGI (5) = 5]
6 4 4 4 6 1 5 4 4 6 5

Infiltration Test (Val)

[Infiltration (3) + AGI (6) = 5]
6 4 2 5 1 5 2 5 5

Infiltration Test (Haywire)

[Infiltration (3) + AGI (5) = 4]
6 1 2 5 2 5 2 5

Perception Test (Driver)

[Perception (2) + INT (3) = 2]
4 5 2 4 6

A drab military jeep rumbles past, bearing lettering on its doors identifying it as harbor patrol. The driver continues down the parking lot, oblivious to the presence of the squad crouched in the darkness.

[John]

Max lets out a long, anxious breath as he watches the vehicle roll past and back out of the parking lot. As it gains distance from the group, the elf ventures to stand to see it as it disappears.

[Drew Buddy]

Adams feels the tension fade as the jeep's tail lights move away, further down the harbor. He hauls up the heavy dry bags once again, and stoop-walks behind the row of parked cars, keeping out of sight.

< Val, try overriding the security on one of the newer cars. I'll work on liberating something with less built-in intelligence. >

He spots an older sedan, hoping that his hunch is correct about it lacking any advanced pilot or security systems. He retrieves a long shim from his mechanic's toolkit, and slides it down between the window and door panel, searching for the locking mechanism.

I'm co-owner of a mercenary corporation, and here I am boosting a car in the slums of Portland. Onward and upward.

[Stephen]

Crouched low in the gloom, Val navigates through the rows of parked cars, maneuvering from one shadow to another. The ruthenium polymer coating on his Phalanx armor seems to drink in what little light manages to brush his frame. His eyes critically sweep over the rows of vehicles. Finding one inconspicuous enough while still being suited to an FRSR-style mercenary operation is tricky. OK, we'll need some cargo space for gear, and enough get-up-and-go should the need arise. Oh yeah, and we have a troll. It's tricky, but after a minute or two of searching he finds a vehicle that's a decent enough compromise. Kneeling beside the rear tire, he opens an AR window and goes to work.

< Wish I could get you a little more legroom, Tyros, but this'll have to do. On the bright side, it beats the drek out of a torpedo tube. >

[GM Nick]

Hardware (2) Test (Doc)

[Hardware (1 ) + LOG (8) + PuShed (1) = 2]
1 1 5 6 3 4 1 3 1 3

Doc fumbles with the shim, nearly dropping it in between the gap between window and door frame. After a flurry of almost inaudible profanities, he disengages the lock and gains entry to the vehicle. The prize is very nearly an antique--a 2039 Ford Westwind cross-over.

[Drew Buddy]

The door creaks loudly as Doc opens it, causing him to wince. He tosses the dry bags into the back seat, and settles down into the driver's seat. After a few revolutions of the starter motor, the engine pops and sputters to life, belching out grime and blockage from its extended disuse.

The plateholder light comes on in the back, illuminating an old Oregon state license plate, and a very faded "Dunkelzahn / Haeffner 2057" bumper sticker.

"Well," Doc says, "on the bright side, it still sorta works."

[GM Nick]

Val takes a knee next to a late model Ford Americar.

Detect Hidden Node (4) (Val)

[Electronic Warfare (6) + Scan (5) = 4]
6 3 1 2 4 4 1 2 5 6 6

Stat1C sweeps a ghostly palm over the frenetic avenue of local matrix space, attempting to glean the Americar's signal from the vast array of advertisements and public networks. A globe of gold light pulses in his peripheral vision. Bingo.

[GM Nick]

Haywire climbs in the back seat and looks dubiously at a stain in the cracked, synthetic leather. She reaches up and unclasps her helmet, which vents a plume of self-contained atmosphere with a subtle hiss. Setting it beside her, she shakes out the fan-like wave of blond hair and brings one finger to her forehead in what looks like a religious rite.

(( Centering. ))

Vehicle Mask (4) (Haywire)

[Spellcasting (6) + MAG (6) = 3]
2 6 4 4 2 3 2 4 6 4 2 5

"Well, for what it's worth, this car should now be nearly impossible to detect with any kind of electronic sensor."

[Drew Buddy]

Doc nods appreciatively,

"Glad to have you along."

He glances over at Val, working away at the other vehicle, hoping that he'll have success soon.

[Stephen]

Val's AR perspective rotates to home in on the Americar's control node. Having cracked an albeit slightly older Americar in his "security" days in Caracas, it's not long before he locates a suitable weakness in the code. Never got around to fixing that little bug, eh? Luck's with me today. Hoping his luck holds and resisting the impulse to whistle a tune, he sets to work gaining a security account.

[GM Nick]

Hack On The Fly Test (Val)

[Hacking (6) + Exploit (6) + Codeslinger (2) = 4]
2 6 1 4 2 4 4 1 3 3 6 3 6 6

Val's avatar reaches through the node, the phantom representation of his arm seeming to melt into the node. Fortunately for the decker, Ford left remnants of a back-door account to the vehicle's firmware. He deftly secures a security-level account.