Butterfly Kisses

Ghost Moon takes a look around him all this heavy machinery was making him uneasy. big plain, well that was actually cool he'd never before seen such a plain as the C-130. So he took it all in.

Then there was Vanessa's drone walker. hmmmm? Unlike the C-130 the walker would be going with, and he questioned how it would effect the stealth parts of the mission. He thought for a moment on that. He thought about the vid they saw, and the monster there in. Maybe we will need it after all. he thought. But how to move with the monstrosity was the question at hand. Maybe this wont be a stealth mission. That thought made him uncomfortable.

When it came to teams. He was use to at least three squad mates and himself. In which case they would find the target, infiltrate the area, with distractions well in place. Ghost would provide medical support and secure the target. That way if the target was hurt he could tend to them. This team had vehicles and Guns. Moreover they had not trained together for this mission. Odds were it was not going to work out crisp and clean, and he lacked supplies. Which meant he would have to improvise. Something he was good at....

He looked again at the mighty drone. Well it could be worse he thought....

"Hmm... Delivery methods... Well, there are the cheap versions. We could aerosolize it, and spray. We could probably pretty easilly put it into an explosive, and use it as a granade of some sort. If we wanted to get fancy, I know we could get our hands on a really skilled, really expensive, Weapons Tech. We could do some hollow-point bullets with that stuff in it. We could also do launched granades, and a needle gun. Those are just the ideas off the top of my head. Anyone like 'em?" Auburn asks, after spewing out her thoughts. She isn't exactly a gun user... but she has worked with plenty.
Auburn looks about at the group while they sign over their flight capacity to the Johnson. Hubert was a nice enough guy, and the king-pin seemed to have a genuine enough story. Needless to say, however, that there were enough "Bad Guys" out there who would pay good money to get their hands on Auburn. None the less, it hadn't been a difficult choice for her to give up her SIN. If this run was going to succeed, they would need to be able to move through the "Wall" at any time they needed, and if that meant allowing Hubert to actively "Erase" them during the run, then that is what had to happen.

Eva nods to Hubert, and compiles and sends him the relevant data files. "Do be careful with this, yes? You are now the 4th person on this continent with that information... see that it doesn't become 5 without my involvement."

Walking up the ramp into the plane, she looks around. "Is there a bathroom, or someplace where I might change my clothing? My dress is useful, but not so handy for where we're going."

Hubert peruses the information streaming into his comm, nodding. When Eva asks her question, his eyebrows raise a bit, but then he points at the door leading to the cockpit. "Just through there. It's immediately on your right as you go through." He looks over the runners around him, before letting his eyes rest on Vanessa. "I believe that's everyone but you, miss. Like I said, you don't have to give over your SIN... but with your equipment, you're the one I'm most worried about if something comes up."

The others could talk about papers and plans, but Vanessa's primary concern lied in getting the rather conspicuous combat walker out of the open and into the hangar. She kept quiet, her attention decidedly elsewhere while the Panzerkampfjäger stood carefully and then moved forward with one heavy footstep after another. Its walking movement were forceful and clunky, though it looked capable of much more controlled motion. Once it cleared the outside and stood at attention next to the C-130, Vanessa finally blinked and looked around the interior of the plane, reviewing the last few minutes of conversation that she had heard, though not paid attention to. She nodded to Hubert curtly, calling up the documents that Kontorōru had prepared for her. She felt very little hesitation in transmitting the information to their employer- after all, that was why she had it in the first place. If this job worked out she should have enough funds to get a new one anyway, and her hacker contact could always prepare one for her again.

"Aff course, yoo ken use my SIN instead. Eet vas fery vell craftet, zo eet zhoult pass eenspecshun." That apparently crucial matter out of the way, she quickly turned to Ghost, his mention of a chemical to combat the bugs retroactively catching her attention. "Eet zhoult not be too deeficalt to fint zome capsule rounts to deliffer zees chemical from a dischtance, baht zee hart part vill be findink zomevun to put zee subschtance een zee rounts zemzelfs. Perhaps vee ken zearch vance vee get to Chicago?"

She nodded thoughtfully, then turned back to Hubert. "Let me know how yoo vant me to loat my valker onto zee plane; I ken cahntrol eet from here."

Auburn shrugged to Eva, the little-girl-looking elf. "I doubt it will be an issue for quite some time. The first things we will be doing when we get there are going to be "setting up base camp" for the group, and starting to define some procedural basics. I can't really imagine the preliminary tactical planning will take less than the rest of the day, since we have define contingency planning for quite a bit of the basics. I don't really imagine that your outfit will be of any particular importance during all this. And we will most definitely have facilities wherever it is that we decide to have our "base camp" at, so you will be more than capable of changing there.
"At least, those are the things that I feel are most important to take care of first. I highly doubt this will be a short-term assignment, so we should manage our time carefully, as well as our resources. Everyone agree?" Auburn said. She was more than comfortable with longer term assignments, and wouldn't have any trouble at all living "camp style" with her teammates. This was remarkably similar to her experiences as an Eco-Terrorist. And without a doubt, setting up "base camp" was always the first thing you do whenever you arrive at a long-term objective.

The recorded holograph is already flickering through its images, put on a short loop from when the target was kidnapped. Xeno eyes peer at it with cold-blooded patience, and unnatural stillness only occasionally punctuated with the soft rasp of nictitating membranes. After a few minutes of this, Supra quietly taps the controls on the holographic projector, switching to a new time frame and watching that with the same strange fascination; Memorizing, searching, or simply watching; It was hard to tell. His attention is finally drawn away when Auburn begins sequestering the opinions of the rest of the group, those strange and scaled features cast into half-silouette from the flickering light of the hologram as he looks at her.

And considers what she says carefully, with that same unnatural stillness. No twitches, no shifting of weight.

"This may not be such a good thing. We are bound to bring attention..." He begins at last, eyes flickering to the massive walker, before they shift back to Auburn. "... My thought is always for movement. If we are there for long, and we are amongst the Insects... or even taking what they claim... then we are certain to draw guests. It would be best if our scent was not concentrated at one point in the metro." The Hindi waits a moment more, before his attention moves once more for the repeating images on the hologram. Hood drawn forward a bit more to keep his bizaare facial features from appearing.

Hubert nodded. "Alright. I'm going to have this info added to your cover. It won't be finalized for a day or so, but I should be able to get you a set of print-outs, and it hopefully it will be good enough to bear a little scrutiny once you reach O'hare. Hopefully." The Johnson then motions to Vanessa while saying, "Okay. You guys can go ahead and settle in. We're just going to be be loading up the last of your stuff, then you can all be on your way. Just be certain to stay up her on the second level while we're getting everything stowed away, alright?"

He sets off, heading out into the hangar bay. Once out, he looks back at Vanessa. "You asked how we're going to load your vehicle?" He grins. "Well, there's a reason we're using old Twen-Cen tech. It's hard to find something at a decent price these days that can do this!" A loud bang echoes through the floor of the plane, followed by the thrum-hiss of hydraulic arms. The nose of the old C-130 begins to lift, slowly but steadily, until the front of the plane looks nothing so much as like a mouth opened far too wide, revealing the interior cargo hold of the plane behind it.

"Impressive, huh? And like I said, this is old tech. Who woulda thought they had such handy toys back then?" Hubert turns about and walks towards the PkJ. A group of four men in coveralls have assembled around it, and wheeled up a flat roller bed. One, a middle aged man with three or four days growth of rough beard on his sallow features, nods to the young rigger and says, "If you'll get your... thingee here to step onto the pallet and hunker down, we'll get it stowed for you."

"Actually." Taurus says speaking up on the matter of 'base camps' and the like "We are probably better off setting up a properly defensible position somewhere to operate out of. If your moving all the time yer gunna risk having your drek stolen, lost, and yaint gonna be no safer from the bugs. Or the wildlife for that matter. I'd like to wake up n' the mornin' without finding a mutated devil rat or the like chewn' on my head."

Vanessa followed Hubert out to watch, wanting to see how well her vehicle was taken care of, her level of attachment to it beyond just that of driver and walker, much more like her second skin. She nodded as the nose lifted up, obviously impressed, though she wondered how that would impact the plane's flying capabilities. Still, if it worked, she would be very pleasantly surprised.

And then the technician had to ruin the mood. She turned to him with anger glinting in her eyes. "My- ...!" She paused, ready to chew him out and fill him in on the technical name of her combat walker... but then she realized he was better off remaining in ignorance, just in case any MCT or Saeder-Krupp people decided to investigate. And since this man did not seem particularly adept at keeping a secret, she decided that keeping him in the dark was the best plan. And so she nodded, biting her lip (quite literally) to keep from saying anything she might regret, and mentally spurred the Panzerkampfjäger into motion to have it shift into storage mode once more for transport.

As it moved, she turned halfway back to the workers, saying in a voice loud enough for all of them to hear. "Be careful viz zat, I voult not vant zee zelf destrukt goink off jahst becose zomevun decidet to tamper viz it." It didn't really have a self-destruct, but there was also no reason for them to know that.

Auburn frowned as the covered man made said his piece. The sheer idea that having a "Concentrated Scent" would matter, even remotely, to a Bug who wanted to find them, for whatever reason, was ludicrous. Fortunately, before she had a chance to say anything, Taurus distracted by agreeing with her. He was right, as she had already pointed out, that having a mutated Devil Rat chewing on them when they woke up would probably ruin breakfast. And the rest of the day, for that matter. Despite how much she agreed with him, her distraction was not likely to put a smile on anyone else's face, although there was a good chance that Taurus would enjoy the joke.
"Well... I don't think that yer gunna have that partic'lar problum, considerin'. My guess is that the thing'd end up with a serious case of indigestion from them horns a long time 'fore they got a chance ta munch on yer head." Auburn smirked to Taurus. It was probably a good thing he gave her that opportunity, because speaking her mind at this point might not be too good for the group dynamics. Better to let them all get to know her a little before she started giving them her opinions; at least, her full fledged opinions.

Jason as he was going by with the fake sin Majesty got him. Decided he wanted no parts of the devil rats and mutated or not they were filthy creatures. But he was confident he could handle a rat or two. The bugs on the other hand were a completely different story. He did not ask much Just listen to the pros. He thought to himself. But he watched the teams enter actions with each other somebody wanted to set up base camp, and that was wise for any kind of extended stay. They would need a fall back position, and Ghost needed a spot to stash stuff and work on injured. Although he hoped it would not come to that...

The pale steward lost what little color he had when Vanessa mentioned a self-destruct on her vehicle. His mouth opened and then shut with a clack. Hubert made a "get on with it" motion, and the man and his associates went to work. They brought out a large, beige plastic tarp and settled it over the mech, tying the thing down with nylon ropes. That accomplished, they brought out a small tractor and pushed the roller pallet around to the front of the plane. Heavy percussive sounds reverberated through the hold as the team of men managed to push the pallet to the rear of the plane.

Hubert looked at Vanessa and smirked. "Worried they were goin' to bang up your ride, huh? 'Self-destruct:' not a bad way to make sure they'd be careful." The expression of wry amusement stuck with him as he walked away from the rigger, crossing the wide expanse of the hanger to disappear through a door at the opposite end of the building.

The PkJ loaded, the stewards then set about bringing in the rest of the cargo -the crates and boxes purchased for the runners, and stowed these away along with the bikes some of the team had brought. They worked quickly, with a minimum of discourse and in a consummately professional manner, and their work was done by a quarter to the hour.

Once the workers had left, Hubert made his way back into the plane, several sheets of paper held in his hand, fingers pushed in between pages to keep the bundles separated. Climbing up the rungs to the second level of the plane, he nods to the group. "Alright, here you go. Our tech people have integrated the data from your SINs with the cover we designed for you. They'll keep working on it for the next couple of days, which is good: As I'm sure you all know, it takes time to properly lay down a phony data trail. The important thing to remember is that until their works completed, this cover story will only hold so much water. So be careful dealing with the authorities."

A thud echoes throughout the craft as the nose begins to lower. An intercom crackles to life: "Please clear the forward section. We will be departing in approximately twenty minutes. Passengers should stow any belongings in the compartments above your heads and be seated. Please secure yourselves with your seat's crash webbing before lift off, for your own safety."

Hubert nods. "Crud. Alright, that's it then. Good luck, and Ghost be with you all." The man shimmies back down the rungs to the cargo bay, and fairly jogs to beat the lowering nose as it closes. The Johnson ducks low and manages to keep from being crushed beneath the lowering slab of metal, which snaps shut behind his trench coat's fluttering tales.

Once he's ensured his bike is properly secured in place, Taurus makes his way over towards the supplies the J got for him to take full stock of what there was, and see just how much he can manage to pack away into his backpack or otherwise find some way to strap to the back of his bike without unbalancing it. What ever else he cant find room for however he doesn't worry too much about just yet and instead concentrates on two things, one writing up a message to his fellows in the Black Star to arrange for a pickup of the excess supplies as well as put in a request to see if there's any chance of negotiating for use of a safe house in the CZ proper, or see what other assistance he can garner in regards to helping to find the J's daughter. Of course he probably doesn't have range to sent it just yet but that can wait once they land in Chicago. Then, once all that's done, unless something is needed from him by his compatriots he settles in for an in flight nap.

Auburn stands from her seat and saunters back toward the hold of the plane. She finds a somewhat comfortable place to watch from, slouching agreeably into the door frame and watching the proceedings with a smirk of amusement. She doesn't speak, or move, just watches with the practiced relaxation one would expect from any well seasoned pro.

Auburn lets out a short snort of laughter at Hubert's comment. "The Ghost indeed..." She says, grinning widely at Ghostmoon. "That'should keep things interestin', shouldn't it? Eh Ghost?" She follows up, maintaining her grin, and sharing her joke with the group.
"That's gunna be how we's gunna keep healthy... Keepin' the Ghost close..." Either she has no sense for "kicking the dead horse," or she doesn't care. Given what is known about her so far, either answer would be entirely appropriate. Auburn brushed off an imaginary speck of dust from her seemingly thoroughly soiled jumpsuit and took her seat. It is hard, looking at her sitting in her chair, not to wonder whether or not some of the stains on her jumpsuit will rub off onto the seat. Despite that, however, the jumpsuit has clearly earned it's "Camouflage" the honest way!'

Ghost be with you the Johnson shouted. Huh? Ghost looked up as if he was called "Here" he said then Auburn's Joke came through his head darted her way his smile clear from under his half mask. He would have laughed but He knew that was going to be hard given the situation, and the fact that his contact had run dry with supplies. Still he was confident it was not a total loss. He still had his skill and that would have to be enough. So he smiled at that joke and countered "Do my best!" with a thumbs up to the Eco shaman. Then he picked up one of the KE IV cans, and began to turn it in his hands. Desperately trying to figure out how to most effectively distribute the poison. Options had been thrown around. So the team was at least considering it. That said he dropped the issue...

The team feels the plane beneath them begin to move. The intercom crackles to life and the pilot confirms that they were now underway. "We are currently taxing out to the runway, and should be airborne shortly. Please remain in your seats and securely fastened in your crash harness until such time as we are at cruising altitude." Tedious moments roll by as the sense of motion starts and starts again several times, but eventually the runner's within the belly of the massive C-130 hear a muted roar, and feel the thrum of the engines as four turboprop engines spin to life and begin to pull the massive machine forward.
Within moments the plane is airborne. Twenty minutes later the intercom announces, "You are now free to move around. We should arrive at our destination in approximately four hours."

The flight to O'Hare passes relatively quickly. Although spartan in terms of luxuries, compared to flying business class, the C-130 is extremely roomy, and the typical cramped accommodations suffered by anyone throughout the history of flight who needed to take a trip on a budget are blissfully absent. The only problem is the lack of windows... though given the way a C-130 was used back in its hay-day, this is perhaps understandable. Finally, the intercom crackles and the pilot speaks for the first time since the flight began. "Please make sure that everything's secure back there. We're beginning our final approach to O'Hare International."

The C-130's wheels descend and you all feel the arrest of momentum as they bite into the tarmac, throwing you all forward against your handholds. The plane coasts to a stop, and eventually you hear the roar of its propellers still. Again, the captain speaks over the intercom: "Alright. We've arrived and are ready to disembark. We've landed on a runway with direct access through a service road to the Joliet-O'Hare subsprawl. You'll need to show your papers at a check point, but you won't have to go through the red tape of airport customs itself.'

'And, uh... good luck out there. The natives aren't exactly friendly."

With a clang, the back ramp rolls down, and a crew of men get to work unloading the machinery and crates in the back. As they go to work with forklift and jack, one heads back to where the team is. "Which one of you is the rigger?" When the answer comes, he holds out a small manilla envelope, no bigger than the palm of his hand. "This is the access code for your transport. Try to bring it back in one piece, alright?" Turning around, he pauses and says over his shoulder, "We'll have you all loaded up in about fifteen. We'll leave those bikes to their owners. Just don't pull them off before we get the rest of the cargo stowed on the truck."

The man is as good as his word, and a quarter of an hour later you all step off the ramp onto O'Hare's tarmac. The scene around you is slightly off however. Compared to Sea-Tac, O'Hare more closely resembles a military installation than an international transport hub. Air defense towers are visible amongst the runways and terminals, rising up like blunt spears aimed at the sky, and the sun glints dully off the metal of the heavy caliber guns which cap them. Soldiers in both UCAS military and various corporate militia uniforms walk the ground in squads, heavily armed and armored. The only thing missing are fighter jets taxiing on the tarmac to complete the picture; the aircraft coming and going are decidedly civilian craft, and add a note of the surreal to the scene.

Waiting on the team outside the aircraft is a large, double-trailored semi-truck. The first trailor is canopied, and inside are stored the crates and other packaged materials the Chicago runners had requested as their pay. The second trailor, hitched behind the enclosed one, is an open bed. Stored on it beneath a heavy canvas tarp held in place by winched cables is the crouching form of the PanzerkampfJäger.

The worker who had addressed you all before speaks up again. "You're good to go. This runway has a direct access service road which will run out onto the I190. Once on it, you can head any way you want. Just don't forget: You'll need to show your papers at a check point at the end of the road. Failure to do so will have every GI in this place jumping down your throats." Reaching up and touching the brim of his baseball cap, he leaves, rounding up the workers as he goes.

T_Hawk wrote:

'And, uh... good luck out there. The natives aren't exactly friendly."

Taurus snorts at that particular comment. "Some of us are perfectly friendly. So long as you keep your hands where we can see them."

As everyone begins to disembark, Taurus will fire off his previously composed message to the Black Star requesting a pick up of any of the excess supplies he couldn't carry, along with the vast majority of the medical supplies he'd acquired as part of his share of the payment.

Oi Chummers, It's Taurus.

Back in town with the cargo and I've brought a few extras along too from the job that got me back here. Could use some pickup for it though, couple extra crates of rations and some medical supplies. Got a few chummers along for the job that could probably use a place to stay while their here on Biz. If anyone's got a dos we might be able to use out in the CZ it'd be appreciated if we could talk bout usage, got some White Knight job to do out that way. If anyone can swing by the airport and pick up the team that'd be wiz.

The plain ride was relatively slow though he had never flew in a C-130 but it was generally more quiet then he'd expected. At least for the first half of the trip. The second half of the trip was spent in deep meditation. Music playing threw his Com could barley be heard over the roaring engines. It was old music like pre-awakened. But still had a technological appeal to it. Moreover it helped him clear his head...

When they landed Ghost moved quickly out of the way of the workers as they went about there toils, unloading the big plain. It seemed to him, that he had seen this before only they were not meta humans working they were ants very little very efficient it only past threw his head as they worked buy the time he stopped thinking. they were done. How vain am I? he thought while he got his papers ready for inspection.

Later
Ghost did not like taking the initiative But every one seemed to be standing around doing nothing.... He assumed they could be doing things in cyber space but no one except the Minotaur seemed to be doing anything with their com. So he spoke up. "Ok! So we splitting or what?" He asks looking at everyone in general. Then he asks "Some of you have contacts here maybe we could give them a ring or maybe some one did i don't know, but we need to also concentrate on where the panzer pinzer... the tank is going to stay" He frowned under his mask he had forgotten the name. Or maybe it was never given he did not remember but he ended badly he knew. Ghost was not very Social that he had spoken at all was a miracle. He looks at the drone rigger "I hope that thing has a stealth mode Going in the CZ" nods and moves to the truck with the gear. "I think we got papers to show lets act like were doing something people." He gets in the truck with the gear and sits waiting for the rest of the team to catch up...

Auburn echoes Taurus' snort, nodding in friendly agreement to Taurus. "Heh. I cuddn't agree more. Don't think I killed a guy yet who didn't have it comin'. An' I gotta add, it sure ain't like I'm the only one out there who does this drek anyway!" Auburn said, her grin never sliding. She clearly doesn't take herself too seriously; at least, in relatively friendly company.

Auburn waits for a few moments until it looks like everyone else is somewhat occupied, and leans in to Taurus. "Hey big guy, when ya holla ova at our peeps, wanna make sure they pick up my stuff too?" She whispers to him. It's not particularly sensitive information, but old habits die hard. And whether it is sensitive or not, it is definitely "need to know"...

After Jason sticks his nose out for everyone, asking if we were going to split or not, Auburn gets her head back on straight to revisit a previous topic. "Ok, now it's make or break time. We didn't really come to a consensus, as I recall, regarding our course of action. Do we get a temporary home base? Or do we just head into the deep end, and try an' make the drek from the dirt as we go? Recall: Big-T and I, both the natives, strongly suggest that we get a home base." She says to the group, surveying the looks on their faces. This really is the "make or break," as he had put it, in more ways than one.

Taurus pauses a moment as he waits for his message to try and get through, indeed he tries several times before eventually giving up on the attempt. "Looks like we'll be hoofn' it on down ourselves if we go that route. I'd strongly suggest we hook up with the Black Star since they could offer some help with a number of things. Ain't got no trix connection to em at the moment though, looks like that part of the network is down again." he glances over at Auburn before adding "Course that's nothn new..."

"Heh, yeah. No kiddin' with that. An' you definitely got it right that we shudd hook up wi'the Black Star peeps. It's tha only way ta go." She smirks, sharing the joke. If there was one thing about Chicago that most of the world had yet to realize, it's that it's one of the most high-tech third-world cities imaginable...

Auburn considers for a few moments. She then leans in to Taurus again for a quiet word. "Listen, if ya wanna, I can fly over closer ta Downtown and get a bit better service. I jus don' wanna change twice, so we shudd type up the message an' set it to auto-send. Whatcha think?" Auburn asked Taurus, her eyes twinkling slightly with the cheerful problem-solving nature of her suggestion.