Turn The Pages...

after hearing plans being made Hasty felt useless. wow good points I mean, perimeter defense is not really my thing but I'm sure I'm good for something in this, what you call watcher spirits i never learned to access in the reaches of my mind but i can do other stuff, yeah ill be useful. yeah yeah yeah! oh and can you get your hands on Foci and stuff i need something ha ha ha course you can.

The moment the sergeant gives permission Oats lifted himself off the bench with a groan from the disencumbered metal beneath him. He crossed the room slowly as those around him talked of nuyen and perimeter defense. He tried to hide his concern as so little of it made any sense to him. He had been given two cred sticks, one with an orange strip on it for buying food, and one with a green strip on it for his other expenditures. He knew he would be paid for being here for three days and that meant more money on his sticks. Every time he handed the thing out he worried that there wouldn’t be enough money on it for his next meal. He always breathed a sigh of relief when the cashier returned his stick with a smile instead of a frown.

They were talking about perimeters now and where guns were on the building. He tried to picture it all but he felt nervous with all these people planning and appraising around him. He knew he should be planning too. Figuring out weak points of the building and suggesting ways to make it safer, but all he could think of was the door he came in. He squinted his eyes in frustration. He just couldn’t figure out what to say or how to help. And besides, that coffee had smelled so good since the moment he walked in the door. He fumbled up one of the styrofoam cups from the stack, holding it gingerly between his thumb and forefinger. With his other hand he eased the carafe from its warming base and slowly poured the pungent liquid into the cup. Oats leaned over low to get a better view as he guided the delicate glass back into its base.

For a moment as he tilted the cup back, his senses were filled with the simple delights of fresh coffee. The smell of the beans seemed to lift up and take away the stresses he felt only moments earlier, and the warmth flowing into his body made him feel calmer and more at home. The words of the conversation flowed back to him now.

“I can prolly move dem guns for ya chummer, if anyone wants ‘em in a different spot. I’m pretty good at lifting heavy stuff. I’m not real good at shooting or nothin’ but I’ll go where ya want me an make sure nothin’ gets past me. I’m real good at that too, chummers.”

Oats tossed the empty cup into the garbage and walked back to the bench across the room. He had figured out ways he could help and he was sure it would be enough for the group to want to keep him around. His contented mind wandered to the mention of “plenty of food and water”. He wondered what kinds of food that might be and if it would be plenty for him, or plenty for one of the pixies. He often surprised people by how much he ate. He didn’t worry too much about it, the sergeant seemed gruff and a little angry, but he seemed to know what he was talking about so Oats trusted that he would provision them through. The bench creaked out a complaint at the return of Oats’ bulk as he resettled himself on it.

Hasty go's and sits next two the sarj and asks for a few things well ill need some
20x stick n shock arrows 1600 ny
20x explosive arrows 200 ny
20x barbed arrowheads 140 ny
20x injection arrows 1000 ny
20x what ever kind of poison you can get.
Let me know what you get your hands on. k?
oh and i could use a camouflage suit but if you cant get my size i understand.

"The weapons seem to be in good order as is, but a bit more advance warning is where I'm concerned. How 'bout a Federated Boeing Kull Medium Drone, three of those Ferret Microdrones, about ten sets of infrared laser trip wires, and I'd also like to mount some sensors on the building itself; say, a camera with visual spotter software, a laser range finder, motion sensor and a radio signal scanner at opposing corners of the building. Think it's doable?" She asked Sergeant Johnson before compiling it all into a list on her commlink.


Final Display:
--3x Ferret RPD-1X Microdrone = 9000 nuyen total
-----(Handling 0, Accel 10/20, Speed 60, Pilot 3, Body 1, Armor 2, Sensor 3)
-----Improved Sensor Array
--Federated-Boeing Kull = 10,000 nuyen
-----(Handling +1, Accel 30/150, Speed 300, Pilot 3, Body 3, Armor 0, Sensor 2)
-----Signature Masking 1
-----2 External Drop Pods
--10x Laser Trip Beams = 500 nuyen total
--2x Mounted Sensor Packages = 2800 nuyen total
-----Camera with Visual Spotter Software (rating 5)
-----Laser Range Finder
-----Motion Sensor
-----Radio Signal Scanner (rating 6)

Total Cost = 22,300 nuyen

" '...The rest is up to you.' " The Sergeant certainly had the hard-hoop act down. The sort that could make a run Hell by riding a man the whole time he was working for them. Still, the price tag would certainly make that bearable. And... he had to admit that his curiosity was piqued. A reenactment of the Alamo wasn't the sort of job that got offered often.
Shadow leaned back in his chair, raising his chin and looking from the corners of his eyes at the Sergeant. Lifting one hand, he adjusted the brim with his hand. As he finished, he let his hand remain in the air. He flicked his fingers open, drawing the Sergeant's attention, then let it drop. He spoke for the first time,"I'm in." His voice was low, and had the gravelly texture that comes from under-use.

Shadow turned his attention to the holo of the building that the team was to defend. There had been a time, before he was a runner, when he had spent been taught to prevent people from entering buildings illegally, and to defend a site against enemies bent on doing the sorts of things that he now did as a means of living. A lifetime long since past, but the knowledge was still there, and he turned it now on the building that the Sergeant wanted defended.

(OOC: Knowledge test to notice anything that may be useful in defending the building.)

Corp. Sec. Tactics 4 = 4 = 0 hits + Sec. Design = 1 = 0 hits

Spyder looked about the room out of the corners of his eyes as he also accessed his AR system to diagnose some of his systems. He hadn't noticed but his left arm had been twitching for the last few minutes, sending wave after wave of muscle to tighten then release. It wasn't an unpleasant item, but a bit weird and embarrassing. Screens flew past his field of view as he sorted his system out before a string of green check marks appeared in his vision letting him know the wire system was cleared and operational. Sure enough, as he focused and looked to his arms everything was back to normal, the olive skin having smoothed out and went to normal. Sighing a bit he turned his attention to the assembled. It seemed a few members knew right away what they wanted, two at least. A third, the black hole with the hat seemed to be studying the holo. Probably a good thing too, they'd need to know everything they could before stepping foot into there. They'd also need to know about each other. After all, how could they defend somewhere if they didn't even know if they could work together? Then again, this was the shadows. He wasn't getting paid to wonder about details like that, and he knew it. So he turned his thoughts over gear that could be useful to the run.

A few drones would be nice. Someone else had thought so too, but at least this way they could bolster their small numbers and bring more fire to bear on intruders should they show up. (And of course they would, why else was he here then?, he wondered) They had to be small enough to maneuver the base but mundane enough to be flexible for a wide variety of applications. Choosing to move his diagnostics out of the field of view on the AR Spyder searched a bit while the others were putting in their shopping lists. Finally he found something he thought could work, as well as some weaponry and ammo for them. It wasn't the best set up but it would work. Still though, he could get some more gear out of this if he really wanted to squeeze. But what to get? Sensors, maglocks, barricades, tripwires, and drones were all well and good but what could benefit this run the most for the money? No matter what they'd have to defend it. And likely it wouldn't go so smooth that they'd be able not get their hands dirty. Then it hit him. He knew what could help them work together without knowing each other, would help in defense and security, and had the power to be applicable to a variety of situations.

Keying his shown public use commlink Spyder activated the text to voice system again. The now familiar monotone of a soul-less compu-speech sounded about the room. "I would request 2 modified GMC Chariots with concealed HK MP-5TX Submachine Guns. 100 rounds of EX Explosive ammo each please. Also, I would inquire about a Rating 4 Tacsoft Prog if you can get me one." There wasn't enough cred to go around to buy each runner their own soft, so if they'd trust him he'd have to slave their commlinks to his in order to have the team jacked into the software. The drones could run it too, even though it would take up a subscription. Of course, the whole team both meat and metal running tacsoft would definently boost their chances in Spyders mind.

When Hasty hears what cypher requests she blinks two modified gm who'sama whats it. what are they tell me tell me pleeeeease! and she buzzes around cypher what do they do?

Shadow drops his eyes away from holo, pulling out his comm-link. He keys in a message:

-Full Body Form-fitted Armor (he includes a list of measurements) w/ thermal dampening (OOC: rating 5)
-10 Breathtaker Gas Grenades.
-Grenade bandoleer
-Gas mask
-Spool of monowire (100 ft.) w/ handling gear
-Mono-katana

As he makes up the list, he listens to the college kid with the machine voice suggesting tacsofts and what sounded like light support vehicles for the group. The idea was sound, and would provide a good deal of mobility for the job. Unfortunately, the second pixie, the one called Hasty, started making noise again.
He hit his send button, transmitting the list to the projector's node, and leaned back again. His eyes followed the hyper-active girl as she buzzed around Spyder's head. His mouth tightens slightly. Apparently, quiet was a thing that pixie's did not value overly much.

Dervish drums her fingers on her arms for several minutes, clearly deep on thought. Finally, she shrugs and looks up. "I've no use for gear. I've got all I need for combat, anything else would slow me down, and anything technical I probably can't use. Nuyen I need. Gear, not so much. But... if any of the rest of you would like something from the good seargent beyond what your own share can cover, feel free to take it out of mine. First come, first serve. Provided, of course, that we all agree that the nuyen cost to cover it comes out of your share and directly to me from the seargent when we get our half upon completion."

((Sorry for the long wait, Reality came and bit me in the trog, I also wanted to make sure everyone had a shopping list in, either way, let's get going.))

Sarge had slowly sipped from his coffee, taking his time for once with the 7th cup he had poured since arriving, he knew the team were sending messages, making clals, messing with gizoms and dreck like that, but at least they were working together.

He was surprised to hear the request for drones, at least they were smart enough to ask for them, because even he didn't know what they would be fighting, if anything at all. "I'm afraid we don't have access to that kind of tacsoft, but we do have a lower grade version (read: rating 2). My tech boys even rigged up special arm bands with 4 RFID sensors in each one, I can give you them at the special price of free, simply because you'll be needing the extra help."

He looked over the lists that had been printed onto screens, huds, even old fasioned paper, with a deep sigh he would address the group. "I can have all of your gear at the base in an hour if you leave right now. Otherwise I really can't guarantee it's safety, I would suggest aquanting yourselves with eachother then moving out as quickly as possible, The base is simply to miles straight down this street towards the east, my base is ten miles outside the city limits to the west. If you have any questions I'll be available from the Radio at the base. Good luck."

With his last words the Sargents image disappeared into thin air as the holographic generator turned itself off, Leaving the room empty except for the team of strangers who were bound to take on the world.

"Sounds like we're going to have our work cut out for us," Samantha was thinking ahead to the job site. She wanted to head there within the hour like the Sergeant had suggested, but first, she was going to get her Rover.

She pulled her helmet back on, the built in music softs immediately kicked in, the image link bringing up a map of the area on her HUD. Stepping onto her bike, she pulled the fiber optic cable from its port and socketed it into her datajack, the world dematerializing around her, replaced by the sensor images of her Contrail.

The mechanical arms of the Contrail pulled back up, lowering the front wheel back to the ferrocrete roadway, the gyro stabilizer took over the balance, and the engine kicked on with a low rumbling purr. She pulled away from the side street she had parked on, and rode back to her shop.

The rover was parked inside tonight. She stored the Contrail beside it, stepped off the bike, and covered it with a light tarp. Then she went to double check the armaments of the Rover. The MP LMG was working properly, so she reloaded it's ammo cache with two belts, and stored it away in it's hidden housing before driving back to the tower, offered anyone that needed it a ride, and made her way north to the job site.

Shadow got up from his seat after Sami left. He tips his hat, not really to anyone in particular, and walks out. Outside, he takes a deep breath, letting the cool night air clear his mind. Smiling into the darkness, he walks the block to his bike, climbs on and revs the engine. With a squeel, the back tire smoking as it burns rubber on the asphault beneath it, the black-clad man rides off into the night.

He stops in the barrens, before an old, run-down tenement building. He kills the motor to his bike and kicks the stand down by the front steps, parking it alongside several others. The bikes are an eclectic assembly; some new, some old, some steel and chrome, some plastic and neon. They belong to the Red Hawks, a local go-gang of Amerindian origin. They controlled a small part of the barrens. Not much, just a few blocks. They didn't have the muscle or the flair of some of the other gangs hereabouts, but they were tough, and a touch bloodthirsty. Enough so that they had managed to keep this one little part of Seattle to themselves, even against the heavy hitters out there.
Shadow had paid them to let him doss down in a room in their headquarters. His mixed Japanese and Anglo-American blood let him look enough like a Amerind that they assumed he was from similar stock to themselves. A position he had taken pains not to disabuse them of. In fact, he knew there was a bit of a bet going on amongst the gang about his ethnic heritage. Last he had heard, it was up to 200 nuyen to whoever could get him to spill what tribe he was from, and how he'd come to Seattle. He believed they were less likely to turn against him so long as they though of him as a lost "brother." If they ever found out the truth, he'd be in some serious drek.
Still, he had been forced to give them very nearly all he had in order to convince them to let him stay... and to keep quiet about it. He kept quiet, kept to himself, and they more-or-less left him alone, too clannish to really accept an outsider. They were all mostly half-breeds. Looked down on by those the folks in the NAN, and the Anglos in Seattle, they were used to depending only on each other.
He nodded a greeting to Broken Spear, who sat guard on the crumbling concrete steps of the entrance-way. The man nodded back, though his eyes never left the pavement in front of him. Shadow continued up the stairs and into the building. He walked past the broken elevator doors, where someone had scrawled "In Service" in a bright red paint. A joke, obviously. There wasn't even an elevator in the shaft... it had been scavenged for the price of its metal years before the Hawks had set up shop in the building.
He walked up the stairwell, being careful not to put any weight on the railing. It was so far gone with rust that the slightest touch could probably cause it to fall over, taking whoever leaned on it along for the ride. The graffiti on the walls was the same... a riotous mix of colors giving voice to an interesting mix profanity in a variety of native tongues. He couldn't speak a word of it, of course, but some things were so universal you didn't have to know the words to get the meaning.
He stopped on the third floor, and continued down the hallway to his room, last on the left. He stepped into the room, catching a throat-full of air thick with mildew and mothballs as he swung the door open. He had found that if he stayed in the room for any time at all, that the smell would give him a splitting head-ache, so he rarely stayed here longer than it took to catch a bit of sleep. It also gave him incentive as he grabbed what he needed. He kept his equipment packed up and ready to go in an old mil-surplus backpack, just in case he ever had to leave unexpectedly.
The backpack slung over his shoulder, he left the building, nodding to Broken Spear again as he walked past. He strapped the bag to the back of his bike, then set out, following the Sergeant's instructions as he roared through the streets of Seattle, on his way to the base the man was paying them a fortune to house-sit.

Hasty really had no where to go. If she was not sleeping in the rafters of a club during the rain. Then she was in the park up a tree. She did a quick flyby of the club she most frequented. And sat on the roof across the street. She watched the people enter for a while and wondered if she had gotten in over her head. (but then again what was not over her head) she did not like sitting still, and this job was all about sitting still. That made her a target. She did not like being a target, but she needed the cred. so she went with the job oh well she thought. At least i got to see the club one more time beside the norm was becoming boring. She needed some excitement in her life and she aimed to get it... then when the time was at hand she flew off to the building.

Dervish blinks in suprises as the hologram vanished, then looks around at the others as folks began bailing out to head off and setup shop. "Hmm. No ride. Mind if I hitch along with one of the rest of you?

OOC: I don't know about anyone else, but I went to the family lake house to get sunburnt, play with my nieces and nephews, and watch fireworks. And the computer here is so old and slow that I'll finish typing this about 30 seconds before it appears on the screen, then watch it get spelled out letter by letter... Still, some computer beats no computer and I'll be home monday.

"Got plenty of room in the rover, Dervish, grab one, if no one else does, then we'll be on our way," She waits to see if anyone else needs a ride before setting off to the job-site

Arriving in your own turn the the job site, you would be greeted by a distinct lack of a fence surrounding the building. but it was dead center in a wide open area, perfect if you had to lay down massive amounts of fire without having the enemy behind cover. The simple two story building looked plain enough, it was two stories tall, and the sarge had pointed out it had a basement earlier. The brick walls looked freshly rebuilt, or at least freshly cleaned, although that might have something to do with the rain in Seattle. It was around 10 meteres wide, and almost perfectly square. It had 4 windows on each side, each window had the typical military windows that pushed and swung open from a hinge at the top. There was only one door at the side that faced towards the east, away from the city. It was a double wide door which would allow for trucks to be unloaded without much of a problem, but it still created a chokepoint for the building, which could be good or bad depending on your point of view.

Each of you are greated by a man who has the insignia of a Corporal, all of the other men were busily packing up equipment that was of no use as far as anyone could see. "I'm Corporal Nicolas Trevier, we are currently tearing down our equipment leaving you with all of the other gear. Your truck order should actually be here in about a half hour or so, they are running ahead of schedule, it seams the boot that Sarge lodged into the engineers hindquarters still stings so they can't waste time sitting. We should be done within ten minutes, if you have any questions be sure to ask, 'cause we won't be here for very much longer." The corporal fit his tough sounding name, he was a human but easily matched the size of any troll, his dark eyes hid almost everything about his inner being, but the distinct aura of someone who wanted to leave seemed to peel off of him.

((I should have the map of the area, and the blueprints for the base up shortly, meaning a few hours.))

A cloud of dust floated past the black Mirage as it slid to a stop. Shadow dropped the kickstand and dismounted from his bike, reaching back and removing his hat from where it was tied to the back of the bike as he did so. Putting it on and pulling it low, he slung his backpack over one shoulder and started walking towards the base.
He eyed the building as he walked closer. It was built in the style common to government construction late in the last century. Strait up and down, and absolutely no redeeming architectural value what-so-ever. It was meant to be cheap and durable, and that was all. Modern construction was no better, but the plain brick facade look was less appealing to him then even the quick-crete and construction plastic that typified low-budget architecture these days.
"...I miss the Torii Shrines, and the old pagodas of the country-side."
As he walked closer, a large man in military gear walked up to him. The man spoke quickly and with a manner that was common to those who live their lives taking orders. When he had finished, Shadow nodded to the man, tipping his hat, and headed into the building. He eyed the windows and doors, and the easily scaled walls as he closed the distance, glad that he had asked for the spool of mono-wire and handling equipment. He only hoped he would have enough.
Inside the place turned out to be as unadorned as the outside. A basement, second story, and bathroom, all fairly open spaces. Corridors would have been better. Some furniture, but not enough to effectively break up an assault force. Even rearranging it wouldn't work to funnel the enemy. Only thing it could be used for was firing cover, but even then it would be less than effective. APDS or explosive rounds would chew it apart, and leave a defender with nothing between them and the enemy. Setting up to either side of the door would be best, and he already had a plan to make the windows less of a liability.
Descending to the basement, he noted some loose crates and barrels. They might aid in barricades, but again they wouldn't last long against a sustained assault. More and more, it looked as if the enemy made it inside the base there would be no hope of managing them.
He climbed from the basemen to the second story. Looking around the room, he noted the weapons against the back wall. He passed them by, but was already thinking on some tricks for which they would prove useful. He ascended the ladder up to the roof, glad to see that the surface of the building didn't have another set of stairs which could be used as access. A ladder could be removed, hampering the enemy, or cutting them off from the roof if they managed to get inside the building.
On the roof, he took in the gun emplacements and open terrain. It was a good fire position... unless the enemy had long range assets, air support... or until the guns ran out of ammo. He had never understood the American philosophy on defense; fortifications and draw-lines, broken terrain and displacement maneuvers were much more effective than hard-points and fire-coverage. But then, Americans thought of defense as what the enemy did: they preferred attack, usually the faster the better.
Shadow took his hat off and wiped sweat from his brow, his eyes casting up to look into the sky. If they were assaulted, he would certainly be earning his paycheck. This place wasn't going to be easy to defend.

Her Rover pulled to a stop at the front door of the building. She left it there in case she needed to jump into it at a moment's notice. From the drive up, she had been scanning the building with the sensor modules onboard the Rover, but nothing seemed to stand out to her. The building itself was rather spartan, but that was to be expected from a military base.

She walked to the front doors, was greeted by more than a few open stares from the soldiers packing, but ignored most of them. They were leaving anyway, no need to make friends that you weren't going to ever see again. She then made her way into the compound, saw the man in the black hat inspecting a few points, and decided to go find where the control room for the building's mounted hardpoints was.

Hasty made it to the site a lil tarty. But she really did not want to leave the club. And this was not her ideal job. However grump had found no snatch n grabs. She checked. So this was it. She flew around the site and checked it out how tasteless she thought. And then she landed at the docking bay. She did not bother to show herself to the soldiers packing and unpacking. She did not want to hear the snickers about her size. She took a deep breath bolstered up her courage and flew in. No one was the wiser. Since they were going to be here for a while. She figured she might as well get to know the place, and pick her beding. So up she flew to the top floor first. She did not make any mental notes about security. She honestly did not know how. When she saw the others she breathed a sigh of releif. It was good to have a team to be apart of somthing even if it was only for a lil while...

((Alright, I'm going to move on ahead with the run, the others can catch up if they want to.))


Corporal Nicolas had brought the team into the base, outlining everything that was neccesary. "As you can see, everything here is fairly straight forward. You have two sets of stairs going up and down to the basement and the second floor, the second floor has two ladders that go up to the roof. Your first floor here is your meeting area and commons, You've got 2 computer stations with datajack ports, sorry for any tech users, no wifi here for security purposes for those terminals. You've got the meeting table and of course, coffee." His eyes lit up for a second, anyone who could read expressions could see that his face was unocustomed to most expressions, lines visible showing in his eyes with a feint smile. He led the team down to the basement, where someone had gone to an awfully huge task of making sure everything was in pristine order. "You've got enough food and water stored down here to last for about a week if need be, of course you can always order more if you want to. Ammo supplies are also kept down here, we have everything you could ever ask for in ammo, including arrows if any of you use them. you also have a brig down here just in case you happen to need them."

Nicolas had would explain any details as he led the team upstairs to the second floor. Taking the stairs that would leave you standing next to the beds "This floor is your command center and barracks. You've got gunracks in the back of the room along with a med station that's saved all of our asses on too many occasions. Your radio and security station is over there, we have cameras on all four corners of the roof along with control of the Ares Mp-LMG's, you also have internal cameras that give a pretty good view of every floor, except for the bathroom of course which is located off of the basement, just in case you happen to not like a mortar shell crashing into the toilet next to you. The radio can be reached from any terminal and the antenna is hardwired into the frame of the building so you don't need to worry losing it, your power comes from the cities main, but just in case you have photovoltaic ((Read: solar panels)) cells that store electricity into batteries that can run continuosly for 1 day, or sparingly for 3. Any questions?"

The Corporal had led you through the entire base and waited for anyquestions to be asked, not much more than five minutes had passed before the speakers had crackled in the building, "This is delivery boy to Beta base, Nicolas you better pick up, we are about 2 hours out." Leaning into the microphone that was strapped to his shirt, a stern look on his face. "Trevor what the hell is going on, sarge said you'd be here in 45 minutes, and 15 minutes ago you said you'd be here in a half hour?" The question would go unanswered as the building would shake for a brief bit, no dust would fall at all, the base obviously built to last. "You guys go check it out, I'll man the turrets."

Hasty flew up the latter to the roof and then out of a window for a better look at the situation.

Dervish evidentally has the same idea, but she heads for the door rather then the roof, her body fading in a mist even as she moves. The door opens and closes and the pixie is gone.

OOC: Inflatration + concealment, I'll roll if it ends up needed or you can feel free to roll for me phantom.

Samantha drew her Praetor SMG from it's strap on her thigh, checked the slide to make sure it was loaded before heading to the roof access ladders. Not sure what to expect from above, she called back to Corporal Nicolas, "What's up there? We under attack already, or do you have friends here?"