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 Dess Nuyen: 13000, Rating: 7.5 It was going on a quarter past eight and Dess was still fighting the Zurich ATM for her funds, verifying her biometrics and finally slotting in a shiny new Credstick Gold. Thirteen Thousand nuyen, it'd be enough to weather through this city's ridiculous tourism charges and over-inflated commodities, where walking down the street could run you the cost of a night at the Westin's, and every door led to new and creative ways to keep your bank account ticking down like a timer. Still, it was good to savor the few things that were free, like free drinks. A set of sandy tan ARES fatigues probably didn't fit the dress code of this club, the وردي الغروب -something sunset- but it did definitely keep her from standing out. Not even a block down from the ARES facility, twenty five stories up, and the bar was essentially under siege by a pack of Firewatch soldiers. A mixed bag of service buddies from Squads A2 and 4, and a handful from B4, from what Dess gathered, and a couple of big spenders were buying the shots. She'd make her way back to an empty stool, pressing her thumb into the RFID patch overlaid on the Credstick before packing it into a pocket, and hitting it off with whatever was left with the drink she ordered an hour ago. Beyond the roaring herd of soldiers enacting Denver protocol on the bar, there was the assumed crowd of Socialites making waves through the must see media event of the year all milling about the window side. Some people were dancing, others mingling, standard corporate fare, all the thrumming social strata wrapped around the least offensive tunes that moderno electronica had to offer, which made it all the more jarring when the familiar bleating of her Avalon cut through the noise. Dess clicked through the message, but looking over at the still partying Firewatch, no one else seemed to have their attentions anywhere but on the night ahead. Still, 10 pm left her with the better part of two hours to burn, but sticking around was doing no more favors than just that, burning time. Pitching back her glass, whatever mix of generic flavorings and soywine were in it, Dess makes her way to the elevators, clicking for the transit level, and catching a tram. Maybe being early would give enough time to look around.
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Mar 25, 2014 04:14
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| # ¿ Apr 26, 2024 02:06 |
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Dess Nuyen: 13000 Rating: 7.5 Dess posed no questions directly at first, sifting from the photos and maps for any details on security, likely state employees, as hiring outside would show favoritism by the local government and the DW committee. On the other side of things, she searched for sheets on these 'provided munitions'. Baring some contempt of the rules, her and all the others would be kitted out like a Firewatch team, and a hit squad of berber rebels decked out in full Ares gear would likely set off a few alarms if and when they were seen. If new, more indigenous weapons were being provided over their Ares gear, it would be important to know. Assuming there was no such intel provided, she could always ask now, with such questions as "Intel. Security. Numbers? Government workers?" or "The munitions. Full kit of equipment? Or just demolitions for the helicopters?"
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Mar 26, 2014 02:57
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Dess Nuyen: 13000 Rating: 7.5 The compliment of gear fit the bill for just about any number of generic rebellious groups in any given third world political landscape. Full cloaks and face masks for masking identities, and enough high explosives to level the main airfield. "Should touch down just under an hour before the midnight shift change. Guards on their last rounds, tired, probably not attentive. Perfect. Can probably move in through the desert, rig the helicopters on the far end without being seen. The ones closer in we'll be seen. Fire the AK's, yell a bunch. Blow the charges and disengage in the confusion... Ideally. Four... Five casualties. Not counting anyone caught in the blast."
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Mar 26, 2014 15:44
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Dess Nuyen: 13000 Rating: 7.5 At an intervening time, somewhere between the casual racism and the arms discussion, Dess motions over to the chromed Ork with the 'bad day' scowl, still holding the market satellite images up close. "You... you're our demolitions expert right?" She let the question sit for a stray moment, idling back over the manifest. 10 kilograms of semtex, 10 old twist timer blasting caps. Not ideal, but appropriate. "Assuming we don't get in undetected, how fast can you rig ten charges? Old timer detonators limit how long we can be on the site... And we'll need to leave inside the hour. Ideally we want to be there before shift change."
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Mar 27, 2014 06:55
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Dess Nuyen: 13000 Rating: 7.5 Keeping tabs of the various requests and variables floating around the room were difficult to keep factored in, but between the satellite photos, the patrol and security intel, and the surrounding topography, there was at least some weakness here to be exploited. The numbers were low, but the armaments were high. Government soldiers, and no aims at appearing otherwise. Getting caught in a straight firefight would be just a few rungs under suicidal without good gear. Dess idly began tracing notes over the general airfield snapshot. Taking a stand, but still obviously lost in the details, she turns her attention to Mr. Vance. "Transport on standby? On site? Point me to it. I plan better in a fuselage than an office."
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Mar 29, 2014 09:21
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Dess Nuyen: 13000 Rating: 7.5 Finalizing whatever notes were left to take on the airfield map, Dess ditches the pen and switches off to her Avalon, giving each document a quick scan into the device. Better to pan the documents in AR form, easier management. She opens the Ares messenger, plugging the necessary fields and belting off a quick message on their coordination channel. AE25F-A66A-32FB4 posted:-----BEGIN UNSIGNED MESSAGE----- Unsigned. The Ares channels used their own internal encryption to block access, though not the hardest to crack open, but in the noise storm of corporate memorandum and messaging already saturating this city it would be lost quickly to whomever wasn't on the receiving end. "Okay, we're sent. Just a matter of time now. Floor seventy-five landing pad when you're ready to go." Clicking out of the Ares mapping system for the training site B complex, Dess hits off to the elevator with whomever was trailing along, dropping her scanned dossier in the refuse disposal by the door on her way out ---- At the roof, Dess sat herself on the landing pad steps, pulling a projection of the dossier satellite images and map from her commlink , spawning up a few icons as she'd wait for the rest of the crew.
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Mar 31, 2014 06:25
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Dess Nuyen: 13000 Rating: 7.5 All things loaded and going over the different hits, barring any overzealous reporters or wannabe heroes this hit should glide over just as smooth as the S-K heavy industry mine in Zimbabwe. A clean in/out and an entire security force left reeling, wondering what just sucker punched their collective jaws. Of course, that operation always left a bad taste in her mouth. Aztecnology moved in quick to sweep up any floundering market available, but that was part of the point. Anything to knock S-K down a peg and make way for Ares, even if it meant handing swaths of rare earth metals over to the Big A. "Yeah, should go something like that..." ---- Dess didn't say too much between arriving on the roof and the arrival of their transport. Group planning moved quicker than scattered figuring. Once the heavy pickup touched down, the gears were turning, pushing past the dwarf by the bay door towards the back. Aks, commlinks, and outfits, it was all here, so she dropped her gear and suited up, ditching the Ares fatigues for a rigid armor vest and one of the the shin length berber coats stuffed into a bag. It'd take a little time to adjust to moving in the sort of loose hanging wear the local rebels were decked out in, but with any hope running would be done at a minimum. "Okay. We have the better part of an hour to settle on a plan." She'd click through her Transys commlink on the jumpseat to pull up a very roughly scribbled on map, handily swiped from the dossier.  "Landscape around the facility seems mostly flat. Reduces blowaway sand from the heavy traffic, so our best bet would be to move in from the south, here. Counterclockwise guard rotation, so it should be have the most time between patrol checks, we can cut a big enough hole through with the welder. There's a chance the fence is electrified, and if it is, a big chance the electricity is wired to the alarm grid, so we'll need to be prepared for that." Picking up a metalink from the bin and wrapping it over her arm, she makes a momentary link with her Avalon, AR marking over the two points at either end of the airfield. "Our highest risk is from the sniper tower and the guard outpost. The outpost could be a target if we wanted to hit the most guards on the ground, but it's optional at best. The tower sniper is non negotiable. Kill him or flush him out. The rows of helicopters should cover us from there, along with the smoke grenades... White, since the sniper rifle is yours, I'm assuming that's what you're planning on using." She'd motion off to the dwarf clinking and fidgeting away on a makeshift workbench, bringing the lightly aged marksman rifle back to the present. "There should be a small dune or hill just near where we'll set down. From the south, that should give you a long reach over the airfield and a good spot to remove the tower guard, yes? We can keep in touch with you via the metalinks, and we'll mark out targets as we see them. We'll have to be conservative on the thermal smoke if we want cover fire... Minus White, that leaves us with eight on the ground, and two explosives experts. You and you-" Dess points both to the Dwarven mage, Bell, it was, and the large Ork lugging a signalling mirror. "-Will handle the semtex. The two of you-" Still keeping a motion pinned on the Ork, she swaps over to include Bradford in his trademark Firewatch swagger. "-, If I read your profiles right, should take a Striker each. We'll split into two teams of four and keep a close formation. Once we're in between the helicopter rows they'll shy away from any explosives or area of effect weapons. Likely no suppression fire either. Their job is to protect the hardware... I don't know how we should break the teams, but my only other thoughts are we can hit the generator as an option, or put one of out people up in the guard tower with a striker... Other than that... Anyone suggestions? Addition? Alternate plans?" Although she paced with a stern, detached meter in her voice, all in all the cut of her attitude marked with more rushed than commanding, she opens the floor to any opposed ideas.
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Apr 1, 2014 05:03
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Dess Nuyen: 13000 Rating: 7.5 Dess stacked up with the others by the small bankment, sticking the whole crew in goog line of sight on the facility, but holding out of the beaming halogens. Very slowly pulling a round into the chamber, she reaches back, pulling a striker and rocket from the bag slung around Matches' side. Stroking at the subvocal mic taped on her throat, wired down under the garb to last decade's hottest Metalink, she opens the semi secure channel between the team and their friendly neighborhood sniper. ["Confirmed on three by gatehouse. We're working on initial security now... Signal should be loud and obvious. Once the generator blows, free fire on all hostile targets."] She'd offer out the Big A launcher to either Bradford or the Ork, Matches, signalling for one of them to ready it for operation and lock on the generator. Best case the rocket blows a clean enough hole for them to walk through the gate. If not, there was plenty of working room around the gatehouse. "Where are we on drone and the security?" Dess turns to the respective dwarves plinking away on their tasks, just needing the final touches before the Op was proper started. As a final measure of confidence before the games began, she holds two fingers out stiff, arm bent and takes a deep breath, flaring up the Foci on her back. SevenSocks fucked around with this message at 02:51 on Apr 3, 2014 |
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Apr 3, 2014 02:44
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Dess Nuyen: 13000 TV Rating: 7.5 Armor Rating 13 The quietly swirling rotodrone disappears up and over the roof of the housing, and the passing few seconds tick by with no alarm, no shouts or disturbances. The decker's eyes take the marked change from deliberated focus to quick REM, the usual reaction, she'd noticed, of the brain flooding with input, and in the corner of her eye a dwarf fades into sand and air. The final pieces in play, Dess raises a fist for hold, chiming through the commlink via subvocal communication. ["Drone and Striker on my mark... Mark. Fire teams free in Three... Two... One."] Her raised arm comes down and immediately to the hand guard of her AK 97, trained directly on the leftmost patrol chatting in the gatehouse. At the telltale thump of the Striker, Dess squeezes tight on the trigger, barking off her opening shot. Free Action: Activate foci Simple Action: SA fire Open Fire: 17d6t5 4 Simple Action: Take Aim pre: *AK 97 2 clips |
Dam 10P Acc 5(6) AP -2 Mode SA/BF/FA RC 0 Ammo 38c
Dirty edit for proper declaration and initiative for next round. SevenSocks fucked around with this message at 11:42 on Apr 4, 2014 |
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Apr 4, 2014 02:55
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Dess Nuyen: 13000 TV Rating: 7.5 Armor: 13 Ammo: 36/38 RC: 2/3 Aiming through the short contraction of pupils, waning in from the sudden fizzle of halogen to bare starlight while her contacts swap to low light vision, sucking in a deep breath. The wolf man had her previous target in his sights, and a dashing cloak was filling her view from the middle, so she flips over to the seated guard, pushing a bullet his way as he tries to join the world of the standing. Simple Action: Gate Guard 3 SA fire 17d +1 Take Aim: 18d6t5 6 No real work was going to get done from the embankment they were sitting on, and their specialists were already moving in on the field. Dess moves up behind the aryan android, though with a fair bit less enthusiasm, hunching down over her gun as she'd jog up towards the gatehouse, stopping if she reached the window to duck. Free Action: Move(walk or run) max 12/24 meters, going to max or stopping at the window of the gatehouse Simple Action: Take cover (If I make it to the gate house window)
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Apr 5, 2014 06:45
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If I'd be able to reach the front window of the gatehouse with a walk action (12 meters) I'd be plenty happy to move in under fire. If I can't, then I'll have to use a run action and would need to reroll my shot with the penalty anyways. So if distance<12m then fine, if distance>12m will redo. EDIT: Just for convenience etc. If I have to use a run action, my action lineup is Free Action: Run (24m) Simple Action: Fire SA Gate Guard 3 -2DP running: 15d6t5 4 Simple Action: Take cover (Gate house wall) SevenSocks fucked around with this message at 22:31 on Apr 5, 2014 |
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Apr 5, 2014 22:16
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Eat a bullet in the backside: 13d6t5 7 Or 2 edge, which I possess in points currently?* This will be amusing 6 reaction 2 edge: 7d6t5 1 EDIT: Yeah, apologies, working through a screen of turbotax on a 2004 laptop with no rulebook. Is there a point on the guardhouse that isn't technically being suppressed? The side or somewhere my run action can still reach? SevenSocks fucked around with this message at 02:12 on Apr 6, 2014 |
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Apr 6, 2014 01:01
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Okay, yes, I am back with my computer and rulebook and realizations of the dumb thing I did. I apologize and should have consulted about the thing I never encountered before making a hasty decision. For simplicity's sake and to keep things moving, I will take -5 to my initiative and use Dess Interrupt Action: Hit the Dirt 24-5=19 Or, if there's a reason I cannot, I will eat the 10P damage and continue with 1 box left on my physical damage track as a harsh lesson on being hasty.
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Apr 6, 2014 14:52
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Dess Nuyen: 13000 TV Rating: 7.5 Armor: 13 Ammo: 36/38 RC: 0/3 Condition: 8/11P|0/10S Physical Impossibility 6+3+1-7: 3d6t5 0 Attacker net hits 5, damage 15 > 11 Armor, Damage is physical. 11 Armor + 5 Body = 16DP Resist Damage: 16d6t5 4 -1 edge point: Second chance - Re-roll all dice that did not score a hit Usually only for test rolls. Your call. Second Chances: 12d6t5 7 Brings it down to 8P. -2 to all rolls. Mentor Spirit: Shark - Charisma + Willpower[3] to avoid berserk rage Not very Charismatic -2: 4d6t5 0 3 rounds of berserker rage, followed by death. Dess takes a breaking spray of high velocity lead directly through her back, tossing blood to the sand. SevenSocks fucked around with this message at 07:23 on Apr 7, 2014 |
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Apr 7, 2014 00:10
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Dess Nuyen: 13000 TV Rating: 7.5 Armor: 13 Ammo: 36/38 RC: 0/3 Condition: 8/11P|0/10S The pain was... less than negligible. The situation was less than ideal. And that constant, grating, aching, drek farming swimmer was back, cutting a line through the dirt, drawing her in. There were likely a few options available. More than the obvious, but the wake was shifting through sands, the path was clear, and that bitch was calling to her. She was easy enough to see, floating, covered in blood as she was, mocking from the gatehouse. Standing now, Dess belted off an unfocused single shot, dripping blood as she hopped the broken window into the gate house. Walk Free Action: Activate Killing Hands Simple Action: Stand up Simple Action: Fire SA 11+6-2: 15d6t5 6
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Apr 7, 2014 07:37
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Dess Nuyen: 13000 TV Rating: 7.5 Armor: 13 Ammo: 37/38 RC: 0/3 Condition: 8/11P|0/10S The guard's yelling is long lost to Dess, muffled under the torrential cloud of astral blood surrounding her, begging for a frenzy as she'd boot the wolfman adept aside, taking the guard's arm and skull as leverage before hoisting her from the ground, tossing any helmet aside and swinging her face into the broken windowsill. - Wound Modifiers + Prone Opponent + Friends in Melee Complex Action: Melee 6+7+2-2+1+1: 15d6t5 5 E: Melee base damage is 6P (5 strength + critical strike) SevenSocks fucked around with this message at 15:47 on Apr 8, 2014 |
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Apr 8, 2014 11:50
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Unfun, but I'm guessing it's something you'd rather gloss over, so I won't make a mess of it. Dess Nuyen: 13000 TV Rating: 7.5 Armor: 13 Ammo: 37/38 RC: 0/3 Condition: 8/11P|0/10S Slumped over against the gatehouse wall, making almost a pillow of the concussed guard, Dess breathes heavily for a moment, spilling blood in scattered drops along the wall behind her. The AK discarded somewhere gone in the sand, she takes one of the ample rifles from the ground, ideally not from the hard spray panic fire, quick checking the magazine to be sure. Blood on the wall was a liability. In combat armor that wouldn't be a factor. Absorbing layers, reforming foam beneath the pads. Here, it was potential evidence. Unlikely, but if it can be avoided, there's no reason not to. She patches in over the comms, articulating through her throat for the subvocal patch. ["Striker. This building is hot. After fireteam is clear, blow it."]
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Apr 11, 2014 04:26
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| # ¿ Apr 26, 2024 02:06 |
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As said. I pick up a FN rifle from the guard, and any magazines I can take from the bodies/rifles
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Apr 13, 2014 16:01
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