Clusterfrag

Taipan can feel the gaps in the geology beneath his feet. It's unnatural. Somewhere beneath him, there are air gaps too large to have formed naturally-- signs of man-made tooling. Whatever is beneath them is not a room, but there's certainly a structure of some kind. Smallish. The aberrations spiderweb out towards cell block B, leading Taipan to believe there could be sub-foundation or subterranean space.

Axel studies Echo's feed but can't make out anything past the surface of oily, tepid water. If there are any openings, they're certainly not large enough for people to move through. The tiny drone takes wing and begins reconnoitering the cliffs. All of the sheer, granite ridges look uniform and Axel can't detect any openings.

Open air, ferrocrete and steel, one misplaced step away from a sudden, violent death... it once again strikes the decker just how utterly alien these mission parameters are, akin to something out of a trideo game than anything in her living experience. The kind of intrusion she knows involves corporate uniforms and unlocked fire exits, kind faces that will gladly hold a door open for a harmless little ‘intern’ without first checking for her badge, data taps and unmanned terminals.

At least now, unlike in Bongoland, she has the familiar web of the local network to busy her thoughts and hands, the local intranet serving as a high tech fidget toy for her nervous energy. As Taipan motions for the team to halt, Mouse takes advantage of the break in movement, just to return her sights to the now familiar surveillance host… and that strange secondary output where it was sending its data. She presses her lips together in thought as her eyes flit through the data in her HUD, looking for a string she can pull. Throwing more marks than she needs still presents a risk- a new opening for her to frag up, but at this rate, she'd rather face a thousand spiders than her wandering thoughts.

(( > Matrix perception to examine the firewall for that mystery host (that the camera feeds were leading into earlier).
> If the firewall seems comparable to the ones she’s been dealing with so far, Hack on the Fly to attempt to get one mark and poke around, just to see what the heck it is/what data is there.
> Then assuming there’s nothing pressing that demands interaction/I haven’t screwed up and set off ALL the ICE, Hide, just to enable Fly-on-the-Wall/Not run up my overwatch by idling. ))

Mouse eyes the pulsating node in her peripheral vision. It's a mystery and those are just too tempting. She commands her scan program to probe the unknown host. A large cartoon magnifying glass hovers over the node, relaying a string of data. There isn't much to be gleaned from the result; Mouse is wholly unfamiliar with the output, save tell-tale signs of a flimsy firewall.

Throwing caution to the wind, Mouse moves on to cracking. She fires off a sub-routine that launches a bevy of common exploits and watches with grim determination as they process and fail, process and fail. It's a generic firewall, but whomever installed this host definitely covered at least the basics. It's not long until her AR window is full of negative results.

Mouse sniffs dejectedly. There's something irritating about a systems administrator that actually cares about their work. It offends her on many levels. She's about to kill the routine and try a different tack when a positive hit comes back. The vulnerability is a newer one, suggesting that the firewall hasn't been updated recently. The cool fingers of adrenaline massage the back of her brain as Mouse activates the corresponding hack.

Two mouse skull and crossbones appear over the node. Having bypassed a majority of the host's security, Mouse feels secure enough to run a generic systems check. A new AR window pops up, host to a bevy of information that is indecipherable to the decker. She skims the data-dump, looking for something-- anything that can provide a clue. One line catches her eye:

PRIMO-DYNE AEROSOL DELIVERY SYSTEM -- SOFTWARE VERSION NO. 5.41 -- ISO9566 COMPLIANT -- FOR MILITARY USE ONLY

<<So… hypothetical question: Imagine you were running a horrifying facist regime characterized by xenophobia and a penchant for egregious war crimes… (so historically any Japanese occupation). What would you do with one of these?>> She still shoots Axel and the others a sidelong glance as she sends over the industrial specifications. <<If we're starting a betting pool, we know Yung’s banking on T-Virus…>>

Taipan's eyes clear as he refocuses on his surroundings. He might have bristled at Mouse's implication about his national origin if, of course, its relevance hadn't been made obsolete by his corporate allegiance. << Yeah I've read that one. Rainbow Shiva or something? >>

A soft click sounds as Taipan snaps his fingers to grab the attention of the nearby team. << Baek's right. There are man made structures down there, connecting at least these two cell blocks and probably others. If the drek hits the fan, we'll be more protected down there. Hard clock's about to start. From what I see down there, >> Taipan thrusts a finger toward the rocky soil beneath his feet, << we can find ingress in Block B. Better to enter there than ring the doorbell on Block D. >>

Finally. Movement. Reiya breathes a silent sigh of relief and flexes her fingers. <<Sounds good. I'm in. >>

The team advances Eastward along the cliff's edge, carefully traversing the gully while using the cell blocks as cover. The stretch between cell block A and B is littered with piles of rubble and overgrown foliage-- an ideal terrain to sneak through. Once again a long dirt path winds back up on to the plateau. There are no guards to be seen, and the only sounds are scuffing boots and crashing waves from below.

Cell block B is much larger. Additionally, the gully that runs alongside it is much deeper-- at places, running deep into the cliffs upon which the cell block sits.

Taipan waves a hand forward after a slight pause, waving the silent crew into the gully alongside the cell block before signaling a halt. << Back in a moment. >> He traverses the gully quietly, pausing every now and again at the intersections where the gully appears to penetrate the cliff to send out an ultrasonic pulse, looking for a potential entry point.

Taipan's senses are assailed with the peculiar stimuli of the radar feedback. Lines of strata tickle across his nervous system like a gentle sandstorm. He probes, feeling the irregularities and tension amidst the deluge. This time the emptiness is blatant-- almost crude. There's definitely a man-made structure beneath them. Tracing the path that the radar waves created, he moves over to the edge of the cliff and glances down. Somewhere below, there is an opening. Or should be.

Mick, initially halted with the group, scoots forward to keep eyes on the opposite direction of approach to the team's position, not wanting to be taken by surprise from ahead. The ork scans the scene, poring over the craggy rockface below and the moldering prison structures that scar the harsh, tiny island. The rising sun casts the landscape in high contrast relief, the pools of residual nighttime shadow clinging to their hollows and recesses like tar and raging impotently against the breaking day. The adept makes their way back toward Taipan and peers over the edge of the island into the churning abyss of the Pacific. "Whattaya think, Tío," Mick takes a moment to see sidelong to their companion, giving the nickname a moment to be both a term of operational deference and a gentle poke in tender ribs. "A fore team and an aft team?" The ork spares a glance at the rest of the team. "Unless we find stairs or a ladder, might be a tough climb for a couple of us."

(( Perception check for threats and ways down below, please ))

Reasons why an evil dictator would maintain an active aerosol dispenser:
- Desire to flood the black site with a deadly neurotoxin.
- For instantaneous dispensing of airborne zombification virus or psychedelics for totally legitimate scientific purposes.
- Because Napalm sticks to kids.
- To immediately put down a mass prison break (or uppity intruders) with Neurostun, Pepper Punch, etc.
- Because keeping inmates in squalid, subhuman conditions is easier with a little air freshener.

This thought experiment serves to take up the bulk of the decker’s attentions, even as her teammates investigate the mysteries beneath the earth. After all, her ability to conduct any physical investigation of the premises will forever be limited by the capabilities (moreso the lack thereof) of her own meat-body. All she can do is try to stop anything vaguely electronic that might otherwise threaten their progress.

…such as someone flooding the black site with a deadly neurotoxin.

She shifts her weight from foot to foot with an air as she turns her attention back to the brutal architecture of the nearby cell block, briefly entertaining vivid mental images of how each scenario might play out. In each case, the outcome seems the same: that no good will come of leaving this system functional. She splays the fingers of one hand as she sends out one last pulse among the strange host- a search for any silent icons that might map to the physical output of this perplexing little system.

(( > Check for devices running silently on the mystery host
> If there’s nothing to see/mark, leave host and hide
> General matrix perception in case any new icons have appeared nearby. ))

Yung follows Mick’s gaze down the cliffs before remarking, “Tough climb down” he looks puzzled. “I thought we were taking the prize behind door number two, eh?” he says, indicating towards Cell Block B with a flick of his head.

He slowly scans the faces of each member of the crew, before locking eyes with Taipan, “Look amigos, this fiesta gonna start real soon. Zal’s working on that uplink yeah…been working.” He kneels down and leans forward while casting glance over the cliffside. “You tellin’ me we can afford the time to get down there, figure out whatever the frag is under this place and make some surprise entrance?” He clicks his tongue as he stands back up shaking his head “Nah, we gotta take a peek inside there” he says, pointing to Cell Block B. “And then make moves, clock starts any second now, yeah?”

Mick squats on the precipice of the cliff, peering down at the tumble of granite. The gray mineral is liberally spattered with bird droppings, creating a resemblance to mashed soy and gravy. Their stomach churns a little with that thought.

As a parkour enthusiast, avid urban climber and professional ne'er-do-well, the ork is accustomed to climbing nigh-un-climable structures in the pursuit of mischief. Compared to some of the edifices Mick has mounted, the cliffs may as well be a child's jungle gym. Where the average person may see an unvarying pattern of extrusions, Mick sees a panoply of safe moorings-- it takes only moments for them to locate a dozen suitable hand and footholds. The crux of the climb is most certainly the initial descent, but it's nothing Mick hasn't done before.

Mouse's pupils track the data flowing across her vision. It's one of the stranger hosts she's come across. There don't appear to be any icons connected to it that she can see. Data flows in, data processes, and then... what? She gets the impression that whatever is connected to this host is powered down or set not to transmit wirelessly. Surely there wouldn't be an entire host unless there was adequate reason for it to exist.

The flashing grid over watch clock in the corner of her vision blares angrily at her. Acquiescing to good sense, the decker exits the host and triggers the hide command. The pixelized version of her persona throws a ninjutsu smoke bomb and disappears.

Another ping returns only the same results as her last. No new icons to report. It's eerily empty in the decker's vicinity.

Whelp. She was wondering when the 'fun timer' would start running out. Mouse puffs out her cheeks in childish indignance as she minimizes the windows in her HUD, leaving just the passive feeds from the cameras and sensors and her ‘baby-monitor’ timer in the corner of her vision.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M SAYING THIS, BUT YUNG HAS A POINT.” She keeps her voice low, folding her arms tightly across her chest as she eyes the cliffside skeptically. “REALISTICALLY, THE ONLY WAY I’M GOING TO MAKE IT DOWN THERE IS IN A PAPOOSE.” She can’t help but sneak a glimpse at Thoryne, even if she tries to push the conversation forward before her teammates start seriously entertaining the thought. “EITHER WE SHOVE INTO B AS A GROUP AND LEAVE THE TUNNEL AS A POSSIBLE ESCAPE ROUTE, OR WE SPLIT THE PARTY TO PUSH INWARD FROM BOTH DIRECTIONS.” She lifts an eyebrow toward Taipan at the cliff’s edge, as though prompting him to make the call.

With a soft click of her tongue, she adds: “OF COURSE, I’D STILL WANT SOME MECHANICAL EYES IN FIRST- JUST TO CONFIRM WE’RE NOT WALKING FACE FIRST INTO AN AMBUSH.”

Axel's meat-globes scan over Cell Block B, its ferrocrete walls rising defiantly from the island's stony soil. "Let's see what you're hiding under that kilt of yours..." he mutters to himself, sending Echo over the cliff's edge to probe the entrance to the underground chamber.

Echo dips down along the cliff, dodging the errant geyser of sea foam from the Pacific. The granite cliffs wobble in the team's feed as the tiny drone observes the broad expanse. But there's nothing to be seen. The craggy side of the island is uniform and solid, possessing no holes or caves.

Axel exhales slowly and fiddles with the drone's AR controls. The view of the cliff disappears, replaced with a strange mass of lumpy shapes as Echo switches to ultrasound. Axel pulls the feed to max zoom. A grin spreads across his face. There are right angles and straight lines barely visible in the ultrasound-- shapes that seldom occur in nature. Something man-made is behind the rock, and not but a few inches. Perhaps it was a vent that eroded over? Or maybe a contractor pushing their luck. Either way, Axel is confident that he's located some manner of sub-structure inside the cliff face. He quickly superimposes the highlighted right-angles over the team's feed of the cliff.

"OI, YUNG, LET'S SEE IF WE CAN'T SPOT A WAY IN TOPSIDE." She gives her teammates a decisive nod, as though this is a purely strategic decision and not just an ingrained skepticism of any instructions that might send her hurtling over a cliff’s edge. "ONE SIDE WILL HAVE THE BLAST DOOR ENTRANCE, BUT ANY SANE ARCHITECT SHOULD HAVE ALSO PUT IN SOME EMERGENCY EXIT FOR THE STAFF, OR AT LEAST AIR VENTS."At least, she hopes that even the most callous of upper management would still want to prevent their staff from dying in a choke point, if only for logistical reasons than a concern for human life. Besides, even if they have to go knocking at the front door, she'd rather have a peek through the window first.

(( Stealth + Perception for any kind of opening to the B block? Or teamwork roll if someone else would rather take point? ))

Taipan's gaze shifts between Mick, Yung, and Mouse before settling back on the cavity below, now painted more clearly by Axel's AROs. "Yung speaks sense in that we'll need to start a more -- conventional -- entry now if we hope to brute force it before the QRF is alerted... but it would be a damn shame to let a silent entry go to waste. Why not both? If Mick and I can get in there," he thrusts a finger earthward, "we can pinch in behind whatever force responds to a topside entry."

Taipan glances around at the faces of the team. "A Bongoland reprise, if you will."

Mouse visibly blanches at the mention of Bongoland. "YOU REALIZE THAT MAKES IT SOUND SO MUCH WORSE, NE?" She casts a sidelong glance at Axel and Thoryne with the sudden evocation of that tense night spent contemplating her own mortality in the back of a dirty van, while waiting helplessly for the return of the scouting party. "...BUT POINT TAKEN. DOUBLE PENETRATION IT IS."

Mick nods, a no-nonsense gesture that conveys total agreement. "You and me again, then." With that, the ork pats Taipan on the shoulder and goes scuttling down the cliffside, keeping their momentum steady and loose along the trail.

Mouse moves from the cover of cell block A's shadow, traversing the gully towards the second structure.

Stealth is not her strong suit. When she's not stepping on broken branches or dead leaves, the decker is sending pebbles rolling down the grade. Fortunately, she arrives at her destination without any apparent notice. Sidling up to the brick wall, she examines the building.

Cell block B is noticeably larger than it's predecessor, both in height and length. It contains the same overall design, however-- Mouse can make out a shadow near the roof that must be another narrow window.

About halfway down the length of cell block B, there's a large protrusion that follows the slope of the island into the gully. The function of this arm of the building is unclear to Mouse, but someone versed in architecture might be able to figure it out. There don't appear to be any openings or vulnerabilities in this structural appendage. It also presents a challenge as it fully blocks the gully; to push forward would mean either climbing it or free climbing around it.

double penetration it is... the words echo in his ears as his eyes glaze over, lost in memory.

###

Yung is perched above the street on a crumbling pedestal, flanked by two timeworn gargoyles that fared better than their mutual neighbor, in whose position he now crouches in mockery. The cold Seattle rain is coming down in sheets, luckily there is only a minute amount of acidity. A crackle of static comes over his commlink, They’ve moved into the building across from noesengnam, I’m crossing behind them, rear flank. He feels the heat flush in his cheeks before replying, I told you not to call me that.

Quiet, don’t blow your load too early, we don’t want a mess on our hands. ;) Another few seconds pass; Yung watches as a lithe form slips gracefully through the inky blackness below, deft footfalls avoiding any puddles as she crosses the street. As she moves another crackle over the commlink, barely a whisper, Get ready to assault the front, time for a little double penetration...

###

With a jolt he is brought back to the present, shaking his head briefly before watching Mouse bumble her way toward Cell Block B.

She certainly doesn’t have the same grace…

Yung looks back to Axel, Reiya and Thornye, shrugging at the ‘B’ team, before a sly smirk rides up one side of his face. Viva la fiesta! He unholsters his Ares Predator, freshly loaded with the APDS so generously provided by Zal, then follows Mouse’s lead, traversing the gully on the approach to the next building. Listen chica, don’t get in over your head without protection, too many lives have been ruined rushing into something they weren’t ready for, yeah?

Mick turns their back to the Pacific and slides down the sheer cliff, sending shards of granite plummeting. The ork descends adeptly, making use of hand and foot-holds that the others can barely see. Despite the dizzying drop, Mick seems to be enjoying themselves. After fifteen meters or so, they stop and cling easily to the rocky surface.

Axel nods at down at Mick, indicating that they have stopped at the correct location.

This entire exercise is, to Mouse, an argument against any future jobs in which she has to go outside. She’d be more comfortable creeping across low-pile polyester carpet under fluorescent lights than in the midst of all this nature.

She comes to a halt, and answers Yung’s (admittedly warranted) scolding with a casual shrug in his direction. <<Counterpoint: if not for idiots going in unprotected, neither of us would be here.>>

She scans the landscape once more, this time lining the major highlights and obstacles with technicolor AROs, such that anyone else watching the feed could appreciate them in their full, frustrating glory. <<If it’s any consolation, I doubt I’ll be going further than this.>> She eyes the protrusion with a particular blend of curiosity and skepticism. <<I’d sooner try to shimmy around the gully before going over that cliff, but I still don’t like those odds- especially not with this many of us.>>

With a furrowed brow, she checks her map again, trying to deduce through logic and elimination where the blast door could be situated. <<I’d assume the main entrance is adjacent to the road- somewhere even out-of-shape corpsmen can reach it. If we want to try that door, we’ll either need to crack open the door's biometric scanner so I can tap it, or find a friendly ‘volunteer’ who’ll let us tailgate.>>

She folds her arms, head tilted downward as she weighs her prospects. <<...or we go with plan C. I don't know what it is yet, but I know it involves us embracing utter chaos. And explosives.>>

His heart is suddenly racing. A feeling that’s been absent for weeks, even during the drekfest that was Bongoland. It’s as though Yung has been suddenly transported back to a state of unbridled adolescence. Perhaps it’s the anticipation of action, the plan taking the inevitable logistical path that ends in a crescendo of violence. But really, that’s not what it is, in reality it’s a feeling of being free from the weight he’s been carrying for too long. The brief moment of freedom is nearly quashed by the mere recognition of the decision to let go, synapses firing in milliseconds to bring the emotional anchor back.

Just give me one moment of peace damnit.

The thought barely lingers as Yung picks up speed, barreling down the gully between the two cell blocks. He focuses his mind solely on the present task at hand. Small pile of foliage on the left, bound right, loose gravel near the edge, skip to avoid, Mouse blocking the gully, spin move, holster pistol while spinning. Smooth. The mental and physical gymnastics continue as he approaches Cell Block B, coaching himself to his objective. Here we go…

He lets the blood coursing through his veins take hold, pushing his muscles to the limit. (( Enhance Ability: Strength )) He barrels headlong toward the unknown appendage, it’s uncomfortable to watch, like a sports car careening towards the unmovable object that will inevitably spell demise. A split second before impact his right leg stretches forward ninety degrees, connecting squarely with the wall. The only thing preventing the audience from turning away from the gut wrenching debacle is the morbid curiosity of how it will unfold. His torso falls back nearly lateral to the ground as he lifts his left leg to meet the wall, slightly above the right. (( Wall Running ))

Yung’s footfalls become more rapid, working counter to gravity to maintain the impossible physics. His legs churning and burning, yearning for the seemingly impossible height.

Yung's feet scrape and slip on the dusty bricks, but he manages to sprint up the vertical wall for three meters before gravity reclaims his body.

After a few moments, which seem to stretch out into an eternity, his right foot falters as a piece of brick crumbles under the pressure. But his reaction is instantaneous, anticipated, he compresses his quads, before propelling himself off in the opposite direction of the structural appendage, rotating ninety degrees to the left while airborne (( Gymnastics: Jump -2 | Per Wall Running. )) This time trying to reach the edge of the Cell Block as opposed to the appendage.

(( Edge to reroll misses
))

Yung uncoils like a wound spring, rocketing away from the appendage wall. Sailing through the air, he tucks his knees to his chest in a backwards somersault. The momentum allows Yung to clear the roof of the building and land neatly atop it, braced in a low squat.

Ok, that was admittedly impressive.

…and humbling. Up until now, Mouse’s only glimpses into Yung’s capabilities had been limited to a split second of motion on the Ōwatatsumi, and that minor incident at back at the train station. Drek like this is more than an entertaining show, (though it certainly is), but a functional reminder of what the rest of her team is here to do.

And that she’s not in this alone.

Of course, given that she’s still nominally attempting to keep quiet, her reaction is muted to the equivalent of a digital golf clap: <<8888>> She cranes her neck to look up approvingly, and arms folded, opts for a more direct PM- at least this once: <<Guess you’re more than just a pretty mouth. What other tricks have you been hiding?>>

She swivels her neck briefly to check her surroundings, more out of habit than an immediate need for caution, before reopening the comms to the group. <<So what do you see up there? If you can spot an entry, maybe the rest of us could find a way to join it up there. You certainly made it look easy.>>

Yung lets out a sigh of relief after somehow landing gently atop Cell Block B. It takes every ounce of determination to avoid standing up and taking a bow. Instead he remains in a hunched position, lifting his head slightly to quickly scan the surroundings of the rooftop. Moments later the weight returns, a disembodied voice echoing through his head.

You’re such a show off.

She certainly wasn’t wrong. A sudden queasy feeling washes over him, his stomach turning uncomfortably with a mixture of guilt and something he can’t quite place. Mouse’s message comes over the commlink, a devilish grin splashes across his pretty mouth followed by another bout of nausea.

What the frag is wrong with me?

<<Yeah, no problemo.>> He unclasps the courier satchel strapped to his back, laying it down on the rooftop. <<Everyone always thinks I’m just easy on the eyes, but I actually came prepared for this.>> He pulls out a survival kit and begins rifling through the contents. After a minute of checking and re-checking, <<Frag! When did these assholes stop putting rope in these things? Goddamn shrinkflation.>> An uncomfortable pause follows, before he finally continues, <<Whelp, I guess I am just a pretty face eh? Unfortunately, I don’t have any tricks to make you fly, and I don’t have a rope. Duct tape rope? Best I can do, for now.>> He sighs dejectedly, waiting for a response.

<<We certainly don't keep you around for your brains... Though it's not like I have more than duct-tape either.>> She gives a half-shrug, remnants of a smile still lingering on her lips, even as Yung's falls. <<Try seeing if you can spot anything first? You're going to be quicker and quieter anyway, seeing as you're apparently some kind of shonen-protagonist ninja. If our way forward is from there, then we can see about bringing the rest of the 'surface team' around.>> She grinds the toe of one boot into the ground self consciously, as she adds, <<Besides, I'd probably have an easier time getting up there if I could get a boost up from our resident BFT.>>

The roof of cell block B provides a clear view of the immediate surroundings. Yung has a clear line of sight to the back of cell block A, the front of cell block C, and the trails that wind up to the plateau. A squat, concrete building sits on a hill about fifty meters away-- the barracks, he assumes. He realizes that he's quite visible in his current position and attempts to hunker down as low as possible.

There are no immediate threats visible. The patrol hasn't completed their circuit of the island yet and there aren't any drones in the vicinity.

Further towards the back of cell block B, Yung can make out an irregularity in the brick-work, like a shroud of some sort.

Axel purses his lips, and pushes air through them without actually whistling. It's entirely unnecessary, but the ritual helps him to split his attention as he points to Whirlwind, and then to Yung. The drone takes off in the adept's direction, following the same low path before popping up above the wall.

<<Gonna keep you company, Akela. Another set of eyes, too. No rope here either. If we had some, I could tie it to one end of the drone. And if I were the Pope, I'd have a fancy hat, but here we are.>>

He signals Echo to take a circuit around the cellblock blocking the team's path.

Something about the shrouded anomaly sends a shiver up Yung’s spine; paired with the uncomfortable amount of visibility to the barracks he slowly stretches out, lying flat on the rooftop. He positions himself in such a way as to maintain a constant vigilance of the distorted brickwork.

As someone who cherishes the complexities of social interaction: sound, expression, rhythm, combined with non-verbal queues, Yung has never been more relieved to have a way of communicating that subverts all of those things. <<So, bad news first, yeah.>> It’s a statement, not a question. <<There ain’t drek up here that I see gonna help get us inside. Got a clear LOS to the barracks though, so that’s worse right? >>

He rolls onto his side slowly reaching into the pocket of his jacket to pull out his favorite accessory, sliding the glasses over the bridge of his nose as he keeps focus on the optical distortion. <<Oh, and yeah, there’s something up here, y’all seeing this?>> He says, sharing the video feed from his commlink to the crew. He switches his glasses to thermal vision, trying to pierce the veil of the shroud. <<I got a baaad feeling about this. Oh, and there's no good news.>>

(( If thermal doesn’t register, try Astral Perception in the same vein. ))