[GURPS4] Inhabitants of a Dying World IC

[Kaulesh]

The past few days have been strange. Yesterday, you were watched by a stereotypical suited man in a nondescript sedan - whoever pulled that one off must watch too many of those ancient detective vids.

Then there was that letter. How quaint. You haven't received dead trees in the mail for years. The document itself carries the Ibarian government's crest imprinted on it. The letter asked you to appear at a military base on the outskirts of Centermore. There was a vague threat that not responding may be treason and that the consequences for doing so may be dire.

Now you find yourself in a spartan military barrack. The barrack has obviously had some amenities added that are not standard, as if the building had just been retrofitted for occupants not accustomed to the military life. Instead of one wide open room, flimsy walls have been erected, dividing the building into smaller rooms. Four of the rooms have names etched into them - Aldern Metarr, Richard Sheridan, Razek Raylon Rich, Horace Gibson.

The singular door is probably locked and there are no windows to speak of. There are three others in the makeshift living area, presumably corresponding to the names on the remaining three rooms.

Surprisingly, in direct opposition to every spy vid you may have heard about, you have not been stripped of any equipment you may have been carrying.

[St. Einstein]

The general stands by the side of the exit door, wearing a suit of well-crafted camo-colored power armor, adorned with a variety of military accolades. A cigar is placed firmly in his mouth as he chews on it, observing the others in the room carefully. "Hrmph," he mutters, before taking a few steps forward. "I ain't even gonna bother askin' if any of you got any idea of what's goin' on - sure we'll get briefed soon enough. General Horace Gibson, 'smy name. Must be a big deal if'n they called me in two days from retirement. " He grunts, visibly perturbed.

[NamelessArchon]

Black haired and green-eyed, the man in his late 30s stops circling the room long enough to respond to the power armored military man. Eyes narrowed, he whips a folded piece of paper from inside the thick looking overcoat he's wearing, and waves it a couple of times for emphasis. "Perhaps you might wish to begin by asking your superiors where they get off coercing the assistance of civilians. When I signed myself out after that last 'little dustup' I told myself that I was lucky, and that I'd seen the last of military duty."

He jabs a finger at the floor. "Now I'm standing in a military installation," Next the finger jerks to point at the man in the powered armor. "...talking to a soldier wearing military issue powered armor..." Two steps carry him back to the separated rooms, where he practically lances the door labeled 'Richard Sheridan' with the same finger. "...and my name is on a door in that military barracks!"

"Not exactly where I expected to end up this morning, to understate the thing." Lips drawn tight, he turns to look at the two who haven't introduced themselves. "..and what about you two?"

[St. Einstein]

He appears ready to tear the man's head clean off, growling, before something occurs to him, a conclusion finally drawn. "The hell? Ye'r civilians?!" he asks with visible surprise, squinting his eyes together. "Then it's worse than I thought - I'd sit tight if I were you, kid. Brass don't go threatenin' civilians with treason for nothing."

[Redman]

A rather young man mid 20'ties suddenly wakes up when he finds that some one is talking to him.
Oh hello there Raylon is the name Razek Raylon Rich. I am sure well be attended in a moment. But fore now i'll like to know if they have installed a minibar

Razek checks the rooms for luxuries.

[NamelessArchon]

Richard looks incredulously at the young man for a moment. "A minibar?"

He glances at the general, shakes his head, and flops into a chair. "General, I think that coercing civilians is just where it starts. If they're pulling out the big guns up front, then this little soiree is going to go a lot farther than that."

He takes a deep breath, holds it, and then releases it slowly. He appears to be staring off into space meditatively, as though the walls of the room were sheets of glass on a beautiful summer day, all the while absently fiddling with the hammered copper bracelet on his right wrist.

[Kaulesh]

http://i144.photobucket.com/albums/r193/tdp88/2010-11-30-112447_180x238_scrot.png
Brown: doors
Black: walls

The hut doesn't contain a minibar. Sadly, whoever is in charge didn't deem it necessary. It is, however, lavish by military standards. The large common area contains a mini fridge, running water, a small camp stove, and all the utensils needed for a pot of coffee or a meal. There are a few shelves stocked with various canned and boxed goods. A ragged couch in one corner faces a small television. Along the wall that the common area shares with Sheridan's room is a table that can be folded down when needed and back up to save space.
Like this (http://www.calgarywallbeds.com/elements/attachments/user_created/fold-down_table1-lrg.jpg) but larger and less attractive.

Considering all of the amenities the building has, it surprisingly does not contain a restroom.

Each room contains just a bed and a footlocker. Each room's door has a flimsy lock that is more for privacy than security. A solid kick could probably knock the door from its hinges.

The door to the building, however, is different. It's a weighty hunk of steel that can probably stop more than small arms fire. There is a deadbolt on the inside, but there is likely to be something more sophisticated outside.

[St. Einstein]

The old general sighs, rubbing a pair of fingers against his temple. "Listen, son, I don't know what's goin' on, but this ain't right. Someone should've come by already. I swear, they're gettin' sloppier by the day ... how're we supposed to win the war against Eurova when we can't even get decent debriefs?" he growls, walking up to the exit door and knocking on it several times with a power-gloved hand.

[Kaulesh]

The sound from Horace's knock dies quickly. Nothing happens for almost half a minute, when a resounding clack sounds from the door. It then swings open noiselessly, revealing a midafternoon sky. Standing in the doorway is a squat man in camo fatigues.

Seeing the power suited man inside the room, he grunts. "You must be Gibson. Quite a portfolio you've got."

Addressing the assembled group, he adds, "Name's Platt. Erik Platt. I've been volunteered as your chauffeur, messenger, base escort, whatever you need.

"Now that all of you are here, there's a group of people that would like to meet you. At your earliest convenience, that is."

[NamelessArchon]

From his spot on the couch, Richard simply snorts as though in disbelief. "Oh yes, first they threaten us to make sure we comply with the order to report, and then subsequently pretend that the meeting is wholly at our convenience. Good to see that the song and dance are still the same as I remember." His subsequent eyeroll is almost audible.

Shaking his head, he gets to his feet, brushes some invisible lint from the lapel of his overcoat, and motions for Erik to lead the way.

[St. Einstein]

"Earliest convenience? Pfuh," he mutters, looking towards Richard. "What the hell else are we gonna do? Sit back and knit sweaters? Let's go." He walks forward, his battlesuit making a 'clink' noise as it moves with him. As he moves out the door, "I done gone a few choice words for whoever's in charge of this operation."

[Redman]

Raylon adresses Erik Platt: "Sorry but can you tell us were we are at least? I quite looking forward to meeting whoever place me it the company of these gentlemen."

[ffanxii4ever]

Waking up from a dead sleep in his room, Aldern shakes his head to clear out the cobwebs,Well, that was the first decent sleep I've had in a while, no nightmares or anything.
As he rises, he hears voices outside of the barrack that he was ordered to, he rushes to gear up quickly, falling back on his spec ops training for getting it all on as fast as possible.

Geared up, he walks out of his room, pulling on his gloves, to see a group of four men leaving the barracks; one in camo, one in power armor and two civilians. He hurries to catch up to them, helmet held under his arm. Reaching the group, he turns to the two military men and says, Sorry, for my tardiness, sirs, I finally got some sleep for once. So, where are we off to, if you don't mind my asking? Sir."

Looking at Aldern, anyone would see a thin, slightly taller than average, man dressed in combat armor with a trio of guns attached to the combat armor's attachment points. The most notable thing about him is that his right has been replaced by a somewhat shiny, metallic one that has electronics that trail over to his ear and under his armor, with suggestions of more extensive mechanical augmentation than just his eye and ear.

[Kaulesh]

As Erik is ushering the group out of the barrack, he answers the few questions he is able to. "Where are you? You're exactly where you traveled to yourself - Centermore, the capital of the great country of Ibaria. What you're here for, I don't know. Clearance and all that. I only know what I'm told. What I can tell you is that some very important people want to talk to you - the leaders of all branches of our military as well as the president himself are waiting in that building right there." He points to a sizable concrete structure, rectangular with few windows and no distinguishing features.

Erik answers Aldern's question readily as he catches up. "Thank you for deciding to join us. I was directed to bring you there," he points to the same concrete structure as before, "to meet the individuals that asked you to come here. I've been told that there are some very unique circumstances surrounding this operation. I'm sure you will be filled in on what you need to know."

[St. Einstein]

Gibson grunts in acknowledgement at the newcomer - was it a military man? He had the look about him. The military was all Gibson had ever known, so working with civilians always made him uncomfortable. They didn't know discipline, or honor, or glory. All they were concerned with was a damn paycheck. The Xanoans were the worst - they were civilians that knew how to use guns. Now, they're most of what's left of the Ibarian military.

It made the old man somewhat angry.

He walks with the group, still chewing on the thick cigar, noticeably smaller than it had been earlier. When the leaders of the military are brought up, Gibson does a quick double take. "You serious? Y'know, I served with some of them boys - heh, takes me back. Native-born boys don't usually last long in Ibaria, y'see, not with them damn Xanoans all over the place, like vultures tryin' to save a dyin' cow from a wolf, only to eat what's left when it's over," he spits to the side, several pressure valves releasing air from his arms. "We were different. Odds were against us, but we survived. Promotion after promotion, felt like a fast track to success. Brass was real disappointed when I done turned down tactical command - that's a polite way of sayin' desk job - but my place's on the field. Always has been."

[NamelessArchon]

Apparently the listing of personages is enough to assuage Richard's verbal barbs. His lips twitch for a moment as though he were planning to speak up further, but his mouth draws thin and he simply abides. Once the new member of the group wakes up and the group actually leaves for the meeting, Richard doesn't speak further. Instead, he simply begins swiveling his head to and fro as everyone marches onward, his restless gaze looking at everything around. What he might be looking for isn't immediately clear, but he's clearly studying the buildings and grounds, watching the people, and so forth.

He's obviously paying attention to the discussion, as he perks up when he hears the General talking about the Ibarian military, but he doesn't elect to put forth any of his own comments on the subject of Xanoans, be they mercenaries, civilians or otherwise.

[Kaulesh]

Richard, being as observant as he is, notices that the majority of the people that the group passes stops what they're doing to watch. Erik has apparently noticed this as well. "It's not often we have civilians and war heroes in our midst. Most of the base is probably very interested in current events. I don't know what you were asked here for, but it must be important."

As Erik finishes speaking, the group draws up to the building. "We're here. This is as far as I'm cleared to go." He turns to leave as the doors slide to the side by themselves. The doors are thick and made of some kind of metal. This is likely a form of bomb shelter.

The opening doors reveal a short hallway with a single door at its end. Standing in front of the door is an aide - female, early twenties, red hair, and a beaming smile. "Right this way, if you please. Our leaders are waiting." She motions toward the door.

[Redman]

Leaders ?! fantastic, maybe one of them can lead us to the bar.

[NamelessArchon]

As Raylon comments again about finding a drink, Richard regards the enormous doors for a moment, and then dryly replies to his companion. "Somehow, I don't get the impression that they had tourist accommodations in mind when they designed the place, but perhaps the maitre'd hôtel will be able to find you something once we're settled in."

He stops for a moment to retie his right boot, then stands again and straightens his overcoat, ready to follow the group once more.

GM OOC:
At this point, we're going into a fortified building and may not be entitled to leave freely, which means precautions need to be taken. It's time to make sure we're seeing everything that might interfere with any emergency plans (like an escape) that we might need to make!

Richard will cast Mage Sight on himself, using his compartmentalized mind to do so while remaining capable of taking other actions. Assuming normal mana, there is no skill modifier in play. At a skill of 20, the spell is 1FP/ER to cast and is free to maintain, and requires neither gestures nor invocation. Unless otherwise specified, Richard will be maintaining the spell, which means all further uses of Compartmentalized Mind for spellcasting will be at -1 for a spell "on" unless/until he drops the effect.

Spellcast: Mage Sight (20), paying 1FP cost from ER
[roll0]

[Kaulesh]

Richard Sheridan:
As your Mage Sight comes on, you see that the entire building is awash in a blue glow. The president himself is a swirling mass of blue and silver. Those surrounding him aren't glowing, but you see that they have on them magical items in various colors.

Being knowledgeable in the ways of magic, you can tell that blue and silver are members of the enchantment and communication colleges, respectively. As far as you can tell, the spells are just various protections from harm and some form of spell that facilitates communication.

[ffanxii4ever]

Hearing Raylon's comment about the drink, Aldern just smiles and walks up behind him. "Sorry, but I don't think they tend to serve drinks on military bases. Well, at least they didn't used to, it's been a few years." he says as pats him on the shoulder.
Walking past him, and throwing open the doors into the room yonder, Aldern walks into the room and stands at attention in the center of the room once he sees the room's occupants.

[Kaulesh]

The man in the most prominent seat, President Simmons, stands when the group enters. "Welcome to Camp Centermore. We have been eagerly awaiting your arrival for days. I'm sure we would all love to get this discussion over with so you fine folks can move on with your lives. First things first, how are your accomodations? Is there anything you require? This is likely to be your home for a few days and we would like your stay to feel as much like home as possible."

[St. Einstein]

Gibson grunted and made his way into the room slowly. Each step seemed to cause jets of compressed air to move with him. Finally, after drawing his hand to his head in a firm salute, he reached his free hand up to remove his cigar. In a low, rumbling voice, he said: "General Horace S. Gibson, reporting for duty, Mr. President."

This would be his last mission, his mind told him. When was the last time he'd seen his daughter? Three months ago? That's too long for any father. Any man. But he had to fight, didn't he? If he wanted to keep her safe - if he wanted to keep his country safe. It was a double-edged sword; by fighting not to lose the ones you love, the ones you love lose you.

Sometimes he wished he'd become a lawyer. Then he punched himself in the face.

He brought himself to the front of the assembly and addressed the president directly. "Mr. President, I ain't sure what's goin' on, but I don't think how I'm feeing is what's important here. With all due respect, I'd like to know what the mission is, 'en what I need to do. I'm a soldier, Mr. President, not some pampered child like Raygon the Magnificent - or whatever the hell his name is - over here. I don't need accomodations. I need to know how I can serve my country."

[Redman]

Laptop. All I really need is secure connection. I'll make a list of other things I required to be supported this happy little get together, mostly including various hard/software. And of course a minibar, I'll pay for myself gladly. Anything to cheer up your man of metal over here, even though he has a point, why are we here ??

[NamelessArchon]

This is not going to be like that last deployment. Hands in the pockets of his overcoat, Richard speaks, looking over the assembly of persons before him.

"The details of our accommodations should wait until we know more of our requirements. You obviously have something that needs doing, and judging by this.. unusual.. group, you have called for some rather specific people to see it done. What is it that you require of us?" His eyes flick back to the President.

[Kaulesh]

The burly man to the President's left snorts in a mixture of amusement and approval of Horace's remark and performs a small salute. The man wears a slightly newer model of the battlesuit that Horace is wearing "Good old Gibson, hasn't changed a bit," he says under his breath, but still loud enough for all to hear.

The President's demeanor changes as Horace and Richard quickly get down to business. Whereas he was relaxed when the group entered, he now appears uncomfortable. He sighs and begins speaking, "As you may recall, each of you received a letter asking you here. This is a highly sensitive matter and we couldn't take the chance that someone might have been listening in on our normal communication lines. To be perfectly honest, even we don't know entirely what's going on.

"A few weeks ago, we received a very detailed message from an anonymous source. All attempts at locating its origin have failed. The message explicitly stated that something very bad would happen if we did not follow its wishes. The message included some very highly classified information known only to a select few individuals. We don't take threats lightly, but the release of such information would be devastating in our war against Eurova. Our hand has been forced in the matter and we regrettably must force this mission upon you four." The President looks at Horace apologetically.

"We were to send four very specific individuals, you four, to Eurova to pick something up. What that is, we don't know. The message says that you will know it when you see it. The sender informs us that it will be watching and another message will arrive with further instructions upon your success. We have no choice but to believe it."

Relieved by Raylon's more mundane request, he relaxes somewhat. The President's eyes unfocus in something that Richard can identify as some form of magical communication. "A laptop and some quantity of alcohol will be delivered to your room shortly. Is there anything else any of you would like to know?"

[ffanxii4ever]

Relaxing into a more at-ease position upon seeing the informal manner that the general approached and spoke, Aldern listened to everybody before speaking and talking to one another. Upon hearing the description of how and why they were chosen, he raises his one remaining eyebrow and the hint of a smile can be found at the corner of his mouth.
"So, to recap, a mysterious stranger contacted the government and blackmailed you into collecting and then sending the four of us into Eurova to pick up a mysterious package that will be instantly recognizable, despite not knowing what it is. Upon finding it, the afore-mentioned mysterious stranger shall contact us through unspecified means and tell us to do something with said unknown package." As he speaks, the half-smile grows into a broad, impish grin and a look of amusement crosses Aldern's face.
"I like this mission already," he says energetically.
"So, where exactly are we headed off to?" he asks.

[NamelessArchon]

"There are a few things I will know before we begin," Richard replies. "What sort of threats are we talking about here? If the cause is right, I'll serve without complaint, but I'd rather this excursion had something a little more valuable at stake than the potential blackmail of some senior administration official. If that's so, then I think we can find it in our hearts to get you what you need."

He looks at some of the military men in the room, expecting they'd know, if not reveal, the real answer to his next questions. "Do the Eurovans know we're coming? Can we expect resistance? Is this a free-fire mission, or a pre-announced visit of state?"

[Kaulesh]

"Your destination is in the ruins of a small coastal town called Tulajo. I've been told that some of you," the president says as he glances at Richard, "are familiar with the area."

He heavily takes a seat as the discussion turns toward sensitive matters. "The information in the message is in relation to the war between us and the Eurovans. It reveals the locations and identities of some of our most successful spies. It intimately details our magical and technological military capabilities, among other things. The release of this information to our enemies would be devastating to our ability to protect our citizens. As for your other questions, I'm sure some of my colleagues may be of more help." He nods to a wiry man on his right, who begins speaking.

"My, what a lovely bunch you are," the man says as he glances over the assembled group. "My specialty is information liberation. When you're in enemy territory, I will be your only contact back home. My sources from within Eurovan command inform me that they have no idea of what we're planning. That does not mean that there are no mercenary forces or squatters in the ruins, however. As such, it would behoove you to prevent any Eurovans who recognize you as Ibarian nationals from alerting anyone to your presence. The exact method of such, I leave to your capable minds."

[NamelessArchon]

Richard first pales, then scowls darkly at the mention of their destination, but he doesn't give open vent to anything he might be thinking. Explains why they wanted me for this, anyway.

"There will be quite a list of items we will require - I'll see that we get a list together once I've had a chance to confer with my mission commander about specifics. I don't expect we'll be able to walk out on the ocean floor this time."

[St. Einstein]

"Hrmph. Ask for me by name, will they? Well 'en, looks like I'm gonna be some unknown prick's stooge. Don't trust someone you can't look dead in the eye, is what I always say. That's why I never got into the whole Infonet datin' craze," the old general said, reaching behind him to pat his chaingun. Several locked mechanisms strapped to his back hold it securely in place. He then turned back towards the president and the assembled body. "I'm ready to leave as soon as the rest of ya'll are, but I might as well ask my share of meaningless questions - that's what old men are here for." He pauses to cough to the side, before 'aheming' and continuing. "First, how are we gettin' to this place? Do we have any maps of the area? Are there fortifications? Any estimate on numbers? What's the significance of this place? Will we have any outside assistance? Who is gonna be leadin' this operation? If there's any specific tactical information you can provide, it'd be useful for plannin' a four-man op, especially when at least one of the four men is a damn incompetent." He glares heavily at Raylon.

[Kaulesh]

The man wearing a suit like Horace's speaks up this time. "I'm not sure how many of you are familiar with our space skimmers. If you're not, you're in for the ride of your lifetime. You'll be flying in the lap of luxury!"

At this, the information specialist cuts in, "Of course, luxury is subjective. If my sources are correct, and they always are, some of the enlisted men on base became rather jealous when they found out what kind of amenities we provided for our guests.

"All of those are very good questions. Yes, we've commissioned a skimmer for this. While my sources are fairly certain normal aircraft wouldn't get shot down in that area, we can never be too careful. I'm sure you will find our maps adequate," the man says as he hands Horace a small electronic tablet displaying a detailed map of the area. "Satellite imagery suggest that the Eurovans have mostly left this area alone after our last operation. That means no fortifications and few, if any, hostiles.

"The ruins and the town that occupied the area before them hold no significance to Ibaria and seemingly hold no significance to Eurova as well."

After letting the scrawny man do his thing, the space marine again speaks. "This is a 'stealth' mission. Whoever heard of such a thing? It'll end up with people shooting at each other and explosions no matter what it's called. Anyway, due to that, we're sending a skeleton crew of just enough to get your ride outta there after you step off. As long as you keep your comms open, we can be in constant contact. As for who leads you," he chuckles, "we'll leave that up to you four to decide."

A woman in naval dress stands and begins to speak, pointing to a location on the map that was handed to Horace. "Once you succeed in your mission, we will pick you up here. The Liberty is scheduled to stage exercises along with a selection of Xanoan ships in that general area. We can use that as an opportunity to send a small craft to shore. A few short hours after that, we should all be back on base waiting for the next message."

[NamelessArchon]

Richard looks from face to face, noting the tells of worry and unease among the other civilians. "Tulajo's no vacation spot, but provided they're not expecting us, getting in will be easy enough. Getting out may be a challenge, however, particularly if the Eurovan military is expecting our arrival in contradiction of intel." His eyes flick to the intelligence officer. "Just promise me this won't be a rehash of our last visit. I don't like 'collateral damage'."

He clears his throat and addresses General Horace quietly. "Sir, I can get the skimmer to the drop zone. Make sure they get drop capsules ready, because we're not going to have a chance to land any skimmer without drawing all sorts of air defense attention we don't want. Pray they haven't mined the continental shelf after our last visit, and that the Eurovan navy doesn't decide to go on maneuvers in the area. After that, our requisition requests are likely to be relatively standard, if we're going to be expected to protect the.. softer elements." Having said his piece, Richard steps back to join the rest of the group.

[Redman]

Raylon looks at his hands uninterested in what i going on around himGeneral your up for pension soon aren't you ?? I hope you will find a nice place to retire to and sort out some of your problems with anger management.
OCCDo we a kind of terminal that is combat oriented a wristcomb or is just a laptop in a flightcase?

[ffanxii4ever]

Craning his neck to see over the General's power armor so he can follow along with the CO's orders and instructions, Aldern begins to commit it all to memory. With that done, he smiles at the remark about "stealth" missions and decides to add his 2 cents as it seems to be a slightly more casual atmosphere than he initially thought.

"Yeah stealth missions can end in explosions and gunfire," he says as he continues to unconsciously make a fist and then opening it. "I don't think that I need any additional gear; just let me gather up all the gear that I had brought with me, and I ought to be set."

[St. Einstein]

The old man offered a casual snort in Raylon's direction. He then looked towards Sheridan and gave him a silent nod in assent. "Alright. We'll need drop capsules prepped and ready to go on the skimmer. I want them up to standard - not another Greslie incident with half the damn capsules exploding before they hit the drop point. We've already got ourselves a pilot, but best have one ready to go after we leave," said Gibson, looking towards the military advisors.

[Kaulesh]

Seeing the looks that pass between the intelligence officer and Richard, the president breaks in and attempts to calm the situation between the two. "The Tulajo incident was a mistake. We have more intel, better planning, and a more experienced team this time around. It will not be a repeat."

The gruff space marine responds to Horace's request. "Those were just minor defects in production, or so we were told. After switching suppliers, there have been very few instances of drop capsules exploding upon reentry. I'll personally oversee the installation of your capsules. The ride will be as smooth as a baby's bottom."

OOC:
The tablet I mentioned that holds the map is basically single-use. Think of Amazon's Kindle and you've got the general idea.

Also, surprise family gatherings. Yay.

[NamelessArchon]

Shaking his head at the president's total misread of his fears, Richard takes a moment to connect the provided info tablet to his wrist comp for a quick data transfer before handing it back to Gibson. He steps back to allow the others to continue their discussion while he sets to work on the provided information.

There is a momentary surge of greenish-hued lighting as the comp's projection unit fires up, and then Richard begins working with its full color visually projected interface, with the device displaying everything in the air as illusory images in front of his face as he works. Ghostly interface windows and other images rapidly flicker into and out of being in midair, and his hands dance in empty space as he wades through them. Another window opens nearby, and a text list begins accumulating, listing armaments and equipment for requisition.

Maps begin to flash past in 2D and 3D, with annotations appearing at a few points Richard highlights himself. The map spins again, shifting abruptly into a bird's-eye-view of the canyon north of the town, where Richard has marked an area, which expands slightly for better visibility. "On our last visit, there were several tectonically stable caverns in this area, remnants of the old river system before the aquifer shifted and left them dry. Judging by these images you've provided, they don't appear to have settled or collapsed in the shelling. Last time around, they were being used as a depot and storage, offsite and remote from the naval facilities to the southeast, but not so far away to make them inaccessible in a hurry. Do we have any additional intelligence on the caves?"

The three-dimensional map image of the coastline reappears, marked with arrows indicating the route of expected departure from the coastline, complete with ghostly Ibarian naval vessels routing through the area on their expected line of approach. "If naval retrieval fails, what is our expected secondary exfiltration protocol?" The map rotates wildly again, this time zooming out to some height above the canyon, far enough that a flat, gray rectangle is visible about a klick to the east of the canyon itself. "This image compilation doesn't quite give me enough resolution to see: Have they repaired the airfield on the bluffs to the east of the ruins?"

GM (OOC):
Forgive my liberties with devices and setting - let me know if I get too far 'out there' with tech or setting details.

I'll get a 'requisition request' filled out once I've got my copy of UT back in my hands to actually get references and the like.

[Kaulesh]

The intel officer leans back and ponders Richard's questions. You know the area pretty well, don't you? We haven't seen the need to do a thorough search of those particular caverns, but our satellite imagery hasn't alerted us to anyone entering or exiting the area. I admit, that is one of the few things I don't have much intel on. It's likely that they're unoccupied. If the caverns go deep enough, it's also likely that they intersect another set of cave systems. If they do, the Eurovans probably know about it. Why they would want to take such a roundabout method to get to their own land, I don't know.

"Secondary exfiltration... We originally planned to send another skimmer in when you accomplished your objective, but the time window is just too wide. As you said, too much unwanted attention." At that, something seems to cross his mind. Hold on. This will just take a second," he says as he begins tapping into a wrist comm. He stares intently at it for a few seconds before beginning to speak again. "The airfield is still bombed out. It's too damaged to take off in anything very large. I'm certain one of our ultralights can handle that just fine. They're traditional propeller-powered craft that are made to be flown fast and low. One would carry enough fuel to get you and the rest of the team into Xanoan territory where we could pick you up easily. The controls are fairly simple - I just bought a civilian version for my kid and he hasn't crashed yet. If one of you can handle it, we can shove one into a spare drop capsule on your skimmer. If it's damaged or unneeded, they're a dime a dozen."

NamelessArchon:

Will do. None of that is too far out there.

[NamelessArchon]

Cheeky blighter. Richard clears his throat and hesitates a moment, and then continues. "I don't know most of the area well at all, actually, but that was the last time I strapped up for the Ibarian military, and I still haven't forgotten the debriefing afterwards." He looks pointedly at the intelligence officer and then returns his gaze to the map.

"The caves might connect to a larger system, come to a dead end in fifty feet, be flooded floor-to-ceiling with seawater, or be housing the whole of the Eurovan leadership for all I know. Someone else must've been responsible for handling those - I was in the detachment working close-in among the structures to the south, and I never even saw the caves firsthand." He continues fiddling with the layout of the maps as though looking for something else that triggers a memory. "If they're looking for us to come in from above, they might miss us slipping out right over the surface. If you can get us an ultralight, I can fly it out and land it on our ships. What are we looking at for local air defenses? If we can keep it low and slow, we might just waltz out before they can figure out how we left. If not, well, then we'll have to hope I've picked up a few tricks while I've been gone, because no ultralight your kid ever piloted will take much incoming fire."

[Redman]

What can we expect from this area? You say that there is a bombed out airfield and a under lying tunnel network. I thought we were going to a small town to meet this contact. Am I guessing this correctly when I am saying the will establish a smaller base in enemy territory, and from there proceed to meet the contact. It does not sound very subtle. Besides for the footwork I am sure that I can acquire some goon to do my part, I'll habily assist for the HQ following you by checking HUDs and assisting in IT from a safe position. Then these fine gents will have to fear for my well being.

[Kaulesh]

The intel officer looks as if he was about to speak, but is abruptly cut off by the president. "I fear there has been a slight miscommunication. We do not know if or when you will meet our contact. You are being sent to Tulajo to pick up a package and get out of there unnoticed. A small base is out of the question - it would be quickly detected and destroyed by the Eurovans. I'm sure we would all be more comfortable if you had a computer in your capable hands, Raylon, but our contact explicitly requested you for this.

"Let's run over this again. The plan as I understand it is that you will be airdropped into the area. Your group would find the package. If all goes well our navy can pick you up, else Richard would fly you out on an ultralight."

[NamelessArchon]

Richard speaks up without looking away from his work. "Besides. Computer equipment is standard issue for Ibarian military packing either a hardsuit or battlesuit, and if we're dropping into Eurova, you're going to get to wear one or the other. My requisition includes a slightly better-than-standard model for you, since you're more at home working software than hardware."

He glances at Raylon briefly. "If you've got any experience at all with weapons, though, now would be the time to speak up. Otherwise, you're going to be using standard infantry issue hardware in that category."

[St. Einstein]

Gibson grunted, his hand reaching up to take the cigar out from betwixt his lips. "I've got all the weapon I'm gonna need right here," he said proudly. "Once we get on the ground, we should be able to get in without making too much noise. It's avoiding detection in the air that's the biggest problem. To be frank, I ain't familiar with the area like Sheridan here is, and I don't like makin' plans when I don't know the full situation. A map don't tell me anything when it comes to a four-man op."

[ffanxii4ever]

Quietly standing at ease, watching everyone talking back and forth, Aldern simply listens and absorbs all of the information being thrown about. At Richard's mention of weaponry, he pipes up just for a second. I also don't need any additional weapons, I have my own weaponry that ought to be sufficient.

[Kaulesh]

The president leans back in his chair again. "I'm sorry our intel isn't quite what you expected, Horace. I wish it was better, but we just don't have access to that information." He gives a pointed look at the intelligence officer.

[Redman]

Razek seems to make some calculations for a bit and then answers Richard: "Well I have some "action life" skills, never thought I they were going to more than for sport and fun, now they seem rather important. I know my way around a pistol and the bo-staff. Do you think there is a suit for that could be customized for technical IT support, but still field able ? I'll be happy to assist in its making it there is not. Am sure one of my factories can stitch one up.

[NamelessArchon]

Richard nods at Raylon's addition and a few items already on his list blink and are altered. "I'll see that my request includes equipment suitable for your skills. Which is your preferred flavor: gyroc, energy discharge, or kinetic projectile?" The lists wink into horizontal lines, and then recede to small points before vanishing entirely. He approaches Horace and "General, if we've nothing more to learn here, perhaps we ought to retire to the barracks and discuss how to proceed?"