Clusterfrag

Doc creeps towards the front of the building, while the two gangers remain none-the-wiser.

"It's gotta be a fraggin' mage. Go back and get Gringo. Tell him to bring Rex."

A cloud of tire smoke erupts as the human does a quick 180 degree burn-out and rockets towards the steps to city hall.

Doc hears an engine roar getting closer. Frag! Why the hell are they coming back?

He looks around, panicked, for a place to hide. Perhaps an access hatch to the underside of the building, or even a bush.

< Talk to me fellas, what the frag is going on? >

Breakoff un-slings an AK-97 from around his back and fumbles with the under-barrel grenade launcher.

"Flying in the sky like a little birdie, eh? Well... it's fraggin' hunting season..."

When Max's wife had still been alive, she'd had this most obnoxious habit. When Max was about to sneeze, just as he was at the cusp of exploding his insides out, she would sharply and preemptively ejaculate "God bless you!" There was something about the speed and energy with which she said it that derailed Max every single time. The damned woman denied him the basic pleasure of a good sneeze every chance she got! Of course, she thought it was a scream. His sneeze would retreat so suddenly that only its ghost would linger in his skull, and he would be left feeling empty and unsure. He would glower at his lovely girlfriend who would one day turn into his lovely wife and eventually the lovely mother of his child. She would hoot laughter back at him until-- on occasion-- tears would stream down her face. God how he hated her in those moments; god how he loved her in those moments. It got so bad-- the risk of her interruption of his sneezes so omnipresent-- that eventually she didn't even have to say it. Max would be with her, and when a sneeze began to overtake him the mere anticipation of her interruption would kill the sneeze just at its apex. If Vanessa thought her interruptions of his sneezes were funny, she thought this was the absolute zenith in comedy.

It rings through Max's head like a gunshot. GOD BLESS YOU!

And it's funny, because not since she'd died could Max ever recall having a sneeze so completely vanish.

His head suddenly clear, Max blinks the tears from his eyes and brings his shotgun to bear on the troll aiming his gun up at Tyros. Checking for a moment just to confirm for himself that the suppressor was fitted to Marlowe's mouth. It was. This might still work. Marlowe needs to blow Breakoff a kiss.

Max shoots to take the gun out of Breakoff's hands. If he loses his hands in the process, that's just fine.

(( I'd like to use my Edge point for this roll. ))

Val hears Doc's plea for information, but has no time to respond. Knowing that every second that Razor is allowed to maintain control of his bike will erode Val's window of opportunity due to signal range (and possibly bring the entirety of the Scorpions down on the team), Val quickly drops into hot-sim VR.

Having prepared for a situation like this by detecting Razor's PAN, Stat1C5hade zeroes in on the master node and quickly trains his Analyze program on it. Having determined Razor's Access ID, he fires up his Spoof program and transmits the bike a wireless command (spoofed to appear as though from Razor himself) to immediately apply full pressure to the front brake.

((I think hot-sim allows a +2 dice pool modifier to the Analyze test, as it's treated as a Matrix Perception Test. That correct?))

EDIT: ((Oh, looks like it's a +2 modifier for ALL matrix tests. Yay me!))

((How far away are Doc and I from this armed sky searching ganger? Any chance of a takedown? I could try to snap his neck and stuff him in the bushes. He's distracted... And it's quiet))

[ Max = 49 ]
[ Doc = 38 ]
[ Razor = 36 ]
[ Breakoff = 33 ]
[ Tyros = 32 ]
[ Val = 31 ]
[ Sinjin = 28 ]

There's a --thwup-- as Marlowe fires out a slug. The AK-97 seems to disappear out of Breakoff's hands and skitters along the pavement several meters away.

Max fires a second slug at the befuddled elf as he grasps comically at the air where his gun had just been. Breakout looks up just in time to see Max firing a second slug at him.

((...or we can shoot first and think later! ;p))

(( 5P DAMAGE! ))

Breakoff grunts and falls off his bike as a bright blossom of crimson fills the air.

Doc swings the suppressed battle rifle on Razor, and fires off a burst.

< Keep the other one alive! We need our delivery boy. >

(( 9P DAMAGE! ))


Razor stiffens as Doc's burst riddles his back.
The racing bike wobbles and then falls into a slide, spinning and shooting up a shower of sparks as it heads for city hall's stairs. The ganger slips from the seat and tumbles alongside.

Doc looks at the bike spinning and toppling in slow motion.

< Okay, it looks like we're doing this fast and hard! Max, get ready to hit the release on the Lynx if they come out and spot us! Don't do it yet, though! >

He ducks down beneath the stairs, and plugs a detonator into a brick of plastic explosive.

Max responds hastily,

<On it.>

The elf moves into position to release the drone.

After Razor comes to a rolling stop, the inured ganger props himself up on an elbow and fires at Doc.
Doc winces as a cloud of plaster rains down on him.
An armor-piercing slug tears a hole through Doc's sleeve, leaving just an inch of flesh exposed but undamaged.

Breakoff clasps his hand against the oozing wound. A look of concentration momentarily masks the pain in his expression.

The racing bike roars to life, taking off on its own on a collision course with the rover.

Exhilaration washes over Max as he sees the bike without a rider speeding toward him. Well there's something you don't see every day.

((Jesus christ, sorry I was afk today, but that's a lot of action I could have responded to! I'm not sure how the gangers saw me since they both failed their perception tests...))

Swearing at how fast the shit just hit the fan, Tyros flies above city hall do that he is just over the roof were the main enterance lies so that gangers would have to move out into the open to see him. And also so that he is shielded from the bombs being placed on the stairs. Reach of with his hand (centering), Tyros takes Breakoff's mind (control thoughts, f4) and orders his new puppet to put up his hands and run to Doc's position to retrieve the explosives and place them in the inner pockets of his coat.

<"The one missing a hand is mine. Set him up the bomb and all their base are belong to us.">

Tyros seizes control of Breakoff's mind.

As Val fires up his spoof program, he can't help but notice the node that suddenly pulses with energy and comes streaking towards them. He re-directs his attack to the motorcycle barreling at the Rover.
Gaining temporary access to the node, Val injects a safety command to cut fuel to the fuel pump. The motorcycle's revs drop dramatically and the banshee scream transforms into a sickly sputter. It slows to a crawl, stalls, bounces ineffectually off of the Rover and clatters to the tarmac.

Doc glances down at his torn jacket with a look of surprise.

"Frag, what does it take to put you down?" He asks, firing another burst at the ganger who just shot at him.

(( 9P DAMAGE! ))

Doc's burst-fire skitters across the pavement, scoring a direct hit and instantly killing the ganger.

(( Combat is over. ))

Razor's bike comes to a sliding halt and the engine stalls.

Breakoff stares up at the sky with a dreamy expression from his prostrate form on the ground, his own bike lying harmlessly adjacent to the rover.

Max keeps his finger on the release for the Lynx and eyes on the front of city hall, waiting for signs of the gangers whom he expects to issue forth at any moment. He holds his breath.

The team remains tense as all eyes are glued to city hall's main doors. After a minute of strained silence, it's apparent that nobody inside heard the conflict.