Swastications (AQ)
GM: Slinger
Players: Chameleon
Synopsis: Jasmine — a free spirit Chameleon just met — gave him a ride on the Astral express. Once there, he finds himself First Officer of a U-boot during World War II — a German vessel — while being an English spy. His task: gather information about the Enigma rotors and settings on the device to help the folks at Bletchley Park. The year is 1941, and this will give the Allies the edge they need to break Enigma, and decrypt all Submarine traffic.

Along the way, he encounters an American agent, whom he has to fight and defeat. The agent wants that information for himself, and framing Chameleon for it will just cement his cover with the Germans that much more thoroughly.

Date: Aug 12, 2069


Part 1: Jasmine


Several days have gone by, and under the tender care of Jasmine, you have recovered more quickly than you would have thought possible. She is gorgeous, caring, kind — everything you could want in a woman. Even if what she is goes beyond what once upon a time you could have believed in. She is there when you awaken, she is there when you fall asleep. And as you recover, she has rewarded you for your kindness, for your heroism, in other ways as well.
And one morning… you awaken, and she is there. And you feel better — much better. Nearly back to your full strength. And she smiles at you, with a sweet expression. "There is something you must do, isn't there?" she asks. "There is a part of yourself you must explore, if you wish to grow."

Chameleon lies in bed for a few moments, revelling in the sybaritic pleasure of waking to a beautiful woman waiting on him hand and foot. At her suggestion, the changeling thinks for a few moments and sighs. "Yes… I… I think Sensei was wrong. There is Chi, but this…" he holds a hand out in front of him, shifting through the spectrum of human colorations "This is not something Chi can do… "
Chameleon asks "How do I find out? Do you know? I've always simply assumed the strength came from within, as Sensei always taught me. Now? I can't believe that. "

"You must go on a journey," Jasmine murmurs. "I can show you the way, but it takes energy from me. I do not have much at the moment," she admits, gazing back at you, with perhaps hope in her eyes. "You could grant me the energy that I need, to send you into the astral realm, for your Quest." The way she says the word gives it extra significance.
She is so beautiful, sitting there, so elegant and dainty, yet the power in her eyes is a constant reminder that she is more than she seems. "You are fully healed, and it is time you discovered more about the magic that flows within you. It is time for you to be initiated into a new understanding. I can open the doorway, but the journey is for you and you alone.
"Do you have the courage?"

Chameleon sits up in the bed, blinking in confusion. This is… right? But it goes against all he was ever taught too. It takes a few minutes for Cham to process all of this, and in the end he's still no further along the learning curve than when he started. Just as confused.

With a deep sigh he looks inward, eyes closed, practicing the meditative breathing he's been using for years now. After a few deep breaths he opens his eyes and nods. "If you say it's magic, I trust you Jasmine. I want to know. What do you need from me?"

"I need some of your energy," she murmurs, reaching up to gently stroke your face, your cheek. "You are mortal. You generate it. You create it. There are those who can steal it from mortals, but I am not among them. It must be freely given, as a Gift." She closes her eyes, with a warm smile. "I will warn you. I will not be here when you return. I have things I must do. But you may call my Name, and I will hear you. Whereever I am."
She gently caresses your ear, seductively. "And I will be back, from time to time. As you slowly discover who you are, inside. You do not yet know. But you will."

Chameleon smiles, enjoying the touch that's been present for the past few days and absent for so many years before. Not just hers, but any touch. Adoring sports bunnies have never really been his 'thing' despite the numbers that would crowd around after a good run. Something about the adrenaline that comes from leaping a over a ten foot gap with nothing but a three story fall beneath just makes fluffy headed blondes seem unappealing.

"I'll miss you Jasmine, but I understand you have things you need to do. Please, tell me how I can return some of the comfort you've given me. How I can give you some of my energy."

"All you have to do is give it. To want to give it, and share it," she murmurs. "The rest will happen on its own. There is no technique, no words to say. Just touch me and grant it… and it will happen," he murmurs. Trying not to appear eager, or hungry, but in a sense she is both.
Her touches are warm, her body feeling so real — except impossibly soft to the touch. "You are beautiful," she murmurs. "Handsome. Do not let anyone tell you differently," she adds, with a slightly impish grin on her features. "You are especially handsome when confused."

Chameleon chuckles and replies "I must be particularly handsome right now then." with a grin as he reaches one hand to her arm, willing himself to let go. Something that goes completely against his training and experience. Control is vitally important, and now he surrenders it, letting the woman take what she needs.
«Plot» SlingGM says, "That's how many karma points you're giving her?"
«OOC» Chameleon says, "Ok, yeah. I'd be willing to give her the one for the power and another two. She's been good to me."

The look of bliss that comes over her face as you give her some of your energy is a sight to behold. Like a cat basking in warm sunlight, her breath catches, and when it lets out it is with a nearly orgasmic shudder. "Thank you," she murmurs, with sincerity in her voice. "The one who had me before… did his best to starve me. All right. Make yourself comfortable. Go to the bathroom if you need to," she adds, with amusement at mere mortal bodily functions. "Then prepare to step through the gateway."

Chameleon takes a moment to run a mental checklist. He's already done his Tai Chi practice this morning, well rested, as calm as can be expected under the circumstances… yeah, some minor pressure in the bladder.

Chameleon takes a few minutes to answer a call of nature, washes up good and proper, and then returns. Unsure what to expect, he shrugs and slips on his old friends the hardliners, tucks the gecko gear into a pocket, makes sure his Ace is still in the hole and adjusts his jewelry.

A few calming breaths is all it takes to get his game face on. Recon is always interesting, whether it's standing on a corner raving about the aliens trying to suck his brains or getting the red carpet treatment from some Matre'd that thinks he's a tri-v star, it's always interesting. Probably no Matre'd this time though… oh well. Champagne can wait. He opens his eyes and rolls his neck one last time to loosen up and nods. "I think I'm ready Jasmine… is there anything I should know?"

"It may seem like a dream, but it is real. It is possible for you to die in the astral realm, and never return," she murmurs. "It is difficult to get lost. The Quest will guide you, so finding your way is seldom hard. You will meet challenges. And it will /seem/ real, despite the fact you will know in your mind that, in a way, it is not.
"Everything there is a symbol, in a way, for the magics that are happening within and without you. Treat it as real. This should not be a difficult Quest for one such as you — not in terms of danger, anyway. As for what you discover about yourself, that may be a different story," she smiles. And then she lifts her hand, gesturing — and in the bedroom, there appears a shimmering circle, warped… giving no hint of what lies beyond. "Step there… and you are there."

Chameleon stifles a shudder at the mention of lethal consequences. Death implies combat. Not one of his favorite pastimes. "Thank you Jasmine. It's been wonderful having you here these past few days. Please, be safe in what you have to do. I will miss you." and with that, the changeling steps into the dreaming.


Part 2: The Dweller


It is disorienting — because the transition is instantaneous. Suddenly, you are in a small, dark, confined space, with no one around. It is dark, here, and you are clad differently than before. You are wearing a white pullover sweater, with a shirt beneath it — and a swastika on your arm. It's cold right now, though the sweater fights off the worst of the chill.
From all around you comes the humming of machinery. Making it hard to hear.

Before you, though, is an old radio unit, in a wooden frame. And from the small earpiece, you can hear a voice, speaking English. With a strongly British accent. "The commander wants to know when you are going to get the rotors." The voice is tense, clipped, lower-class Southern English, from the accent.

Chameleon blinks rapidly and looks around, trying to take in the details of the new environment. The feel of his ace is gone, no snug comfort of the gloves either. Doesn't take much to guess the geckos are gone too.

An answer for the voice on the radio will have to wait, if only a second, for the changeling to figure out what role he's playing here. He looks down and sneers at the sight of a symbol of hate on his arm, almost tearing it off before he realizes that may not be a wise idea, despite the loathing he feels for what it represents. Machinery sounds. Dark, cramped space, probably a closet. Swastika on the arm, but a brit on the radio… one or the other is probably a spy. Spygames he can do.. thankfully.

Chameleon keys the radio mic and replies "There have been some delays in the delivery I fear, but tell the Commander I hope to make the delivery soon."

There is a pause, and then a new voice comes onto the tinny circuit. "You had best do it, Chameleon," he states, using your codename. "A lot depends on us being able to get those wheels. The war is two years old, now, and supplies are running short. Your Nation depends upon you.
"There is one task we need from you, though. You need to learn a new poem-code. Are you ready?" he asks… and then begins to recite.
It's a poem you've heard once before, by Yeats. But he says only a couple of lines of it. "Do you know the rest of it? It's vital if you wish to speak to us again."

//«Plot» SlingGM says, "Intelligence, TN is 2. Every 2 successes gives you an additional karma pool point to be used on the quest."
«Auto-Judge[]» Chameleon (#3977) rolls Intelligence vs TN 2:
2 2 3 5 11 = 5 Successes
«Plot» SlingGM says, "You have two extra karma pool
points."
/

«Plot» SlingGM says, "You remember the rest of the poem, yes. But you know better than to quote it over the airwaves."

Chameleon keys the mic up again and replies "I recall the piece, yes. Contact at the appointed drop, yes?" in a whisper and glances around the closet, careful to ensure that he's not overheard speaking with the 'enemy'.

"Contact will be encrypted in the usual way. Morse code transission only from here on out. Our window of contact is closing — their antenna will be back online momentarily.
"Good luck, Chameleon. We need those rotors. The pattern of wiring… anything else you can find. And escape with your life, if you can. We're all counting on you.
"God save Her Majesty. Bletchley out."

The rotors, of course. The rotors of the Enigma machine, used to encrypt and decrypt submarine traffic. So far, the Allies have been unsuccessful in capturing a set of them, despite their valiant attempts. The German Commanders destroy them, shoot them out a torpedo tube, or destroy the machine with explosives if the U-boot is captured. Your task is to get one, intact, examine the wiring of those rotors… and send it back to Bletchley.

"Chameleon out." he replies, then replaces the handmic. Pausing a moment to adjust his sweater, the changeling listens to the sounds coming from the next room, putting that together with the new information about his goal, he reaches the conclusion that this is some sort of crytpo site for the Krauts.

'The Enigma machine… this should be interesting' he thinks as he steps out of his little communication chamber… communication chamber… machine noises… is it a sub? Oh bloody hell…


Part 3: Place of Destiny


It's a sub. Once you step out of your hidden closet, a little space tucked within banks of machinery, with your radio set tucked up out of the way, you recongize some of the gauges. Unterdruck, Ueberdruck. Wassertiefe. A sign in German: Rauchen verboten. The smell of cigarette smoke permetes the place, though, making it clear that this sign is generally ignored.
These words are clearly comprehensible to you, though. And your mind slips back into your cover. You are Guenter Metzger. A glance at yourself in the shining stainless steel of a piece of equipment gives you your appearance. Blond, yes, blue-eyed — the pinnacle of Hitler's Aryan race. Das dritte Reich values your service, and you have risen in rank to become First Officer of this particular submarine: Grossmesser. Large Knife. U-211 is its designation.
And you are in the Atlantic. Patrolling.

Chameleon takes a few moments to examine the equipment, checking dials, tapping guages, that sort of thing. Once done with that, it's time to report to the bridge, see what the captain has in mind for him. Fortunately, the changeling knows exactly where to go for that… unfortunately, the question of where the Enigma is kept seems to have the same answer. The captain. Likely in his quarters no less, and that's going to be harder to manage.

Of course it is in his quarters! Where else would it be? The bridge is forward and up two decks. But you are in excellent physical condition, so climbing the ladders should not be a problem for you. As you pass a deck, there are sailors there, smoking, talking amongst themselves. They salute you as you pass, breaking regulations. Der Fuhrer does not approve of tobacco, after all.

«Plot» SlingGM says, "Gimme an Athletics check, TN 2. You are using it to resist 2S stun damage."
«Auto-Judge[]» Chameleon (#3977) rolls Athletics vs TN 2:
1 1 2 3 3 4 8 9 10 10 = 8 Successes

Climbing the ladders is easy for you — until the boat does a sudden turn to starboard, nearly dislodging you from the ladder and hurling you against the bulkhead. But you are strong enough to hang on. The soldiers weren't quite as lucky, with several of them thrown to the ground. Their eyes widen in alarm as they stand back up, grabbing for their cigarettes as they look around, confused…

As soon as the boat has stabilized Chameleon slides down the ladder to check on the sailors. Afterall, it is the duty of an officer to see that the lower ranks are fit and able to perform their duties. He waves a hand at the cigarettes saying "Nein, Nein.." and pretending such things aren't actually happening, there are more pressing issues. Tt's time to find out what kind of sheisse is going on up top, but first, are the sailors ok?

At the base of the ladder the chameleon glances quickly from one sailor to the next, looking for obvious injuries as he says "Put out those cigarettes, and tell me if you are injured."

The sailors comply. "Ja," they agree, they are all right. No serious injuries; one of them has a bump on the head, but nothing that requires medical attention. They are all young boys, really. It's a pity they are fighting for the wrong side.
"Was ist passiert, mein Herr?" one of them asks — what happened, sir? They are hesitatant, trying to figure out what to do. No alerts have sounded, not yet.

Chameleon shakes his head and says "I do not know yet, I must report to the bridge. Orders will be forthcoming, ja." before climbing the ladder and moving rapidly down the passageway. It's no more than a few steps before he realizes this may represent a wonderful opportunity, if only he knew what was happening.


Part 4: Place of Charisma


Danger and opportunity together are what form a crisis. So say the Chinese. As you approach the Bridge, it is a hubbub of activity. The solutions table is busy with men furiously calculating, even while the sonar operator sits with his bulky headphones, struggling to hear anything outside the ship. It's a wonder the man can hear anything.
Pipe smoke curls up from the Captain's deck, while he paces back and forth the full two steps that the cramped quarters permit him. "Metzger," he says, narrowing his eyes as you enter the Bridge. "Would you mind explaining this?" he demands, as he holds out a sheaf of documents to you, rattling the papers.
The papers are intercepts, it would seem. Radio intercepts. Giving frequencies, times. Times that closely match your duty schedule. And on them, words. Implicating words. "Who is Chameleon?" the Captain demands.

«Plot» SlingGM says, "The Captain is speaking German, of course, but there is no need to keep translating."

Chameleon takes the sheaf of papers and flips through them, ostensibly studying them in an effort to determine who this 'chameleon' is while in reality, his mind is racing, searching for any possible explanation.

Unfortunately, nothing comes to mind save the thought to pin the blame on some other poor sap. Good boys they may be, but they do work for the enemy, and the priority must be survival and delivery of the Enigma. Selecting another with a schedule closely matching his, the changeling spy says "I have noticed this person behaving… oddly sir. Have his quarters been searched?"

The Captain blinks, shocked by your words. "You would accuse the political officer?" he demands, looking at the documents once again, then at the rest of the bridge crew. Just a glance — but they are all attempting to look /very/ busy at this moment.
"You seriously expect me to search /his/ quarters?" he wants to know, and then he turns back, just as the submarine lurches back to the port side. Red lights flick on on several more panels, catching the eye, and some of them are blinking, with audible clicking from the relays. "We have a saboteur," he adds, with anger. "Right now, your quarters are being searched. You will wait /here/. Under guard." He snaps his fingers, and two young security officers step forward with guns.

«Plot» SlingGM says, "Place of Charisma. You will negotiate your way out of this, by the way."

Chameleon stands still, not presenting any sort of physical threat as the guards close around him. Physical threats aren't his specialty anyway… words, deeds, style, and flaire… these are his stock in trade.

"Sir, I know that we cannot search the political officer's quarters. I apologize for suggesting such a thing, but have you considered the fact that that would make him an ideal sabateur? He is above reproach, yes. But that in itself makes him a perfect spy and sabateur. Who would suspect?"

«Auto-Judge[]» Chameleon (#3977) rolls Acting + Karma Pool: 2 vs TN 2 for "KP 5/8":
1 2 3 9 = 3 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Chameleon (#3977) rolls Acting + 2 - 3 vs TN 2 for "KP4/8":
5 = 1 Success

The Captain looks you in the eye as you speak, but seems to believe you. "Doch," he grunts, drawing on his pipe, then nods to the two security people. "Go below. See if you can find the source of this treason, and repair it."
To the guards, though, he gives a firm order. "Do not let him out of your sight. Not even for a moment. Understood?"
"Jawohl, mein Herr," each of them say, together, saluting. And you are dismissed, to investigate the location of the sabotage. The most likely place, of course, would be the rudder. That would cause exactly this behavior. The rudder is all the way in back, behind the engines, the hydraulic controls for it running all the way along the ship in the lower decks…

Chameleon echoes his… escort. "Jawohl." then turns to the young guards saying "Komenzie" as he starts for the ladders down to the lower decks, presumably leading to the rudder and hopefully an escape from this particular dream trap. On the way his mind is still racing. Spies are not well loved by their prey, they are in fact frequently the beneificiaries of centuries of evolution of torture techniques.


Part 4: Place of Battle


The ladders lead down into the bowels of the vessel, where the majority of the heavy machinery is. Valves hiss, pipes gurgle, and always there is the rumble of the engines that grows louder as you move toward the rear of the boat.
The two sailors next to you stay just behind you, flanking you and ducking their heads as they pass beneath various low-hanging pipes down here. There are crew down here, intermittently. A group of them are banging on something frantically, as it gurgles water and then hisses with steam, which seems to satisfy them. They glance up at you, salute, though they eye the two security guards warily.
Now, though, you are reaching the darker areas of the ship, with incandescent bulbs rare, casting flickering shadows amidst pieces of moving parts. The engine is above you, making it hard to hear. But then… there is a shadow up ahead, moving furtively in the darkness.

Making his way through the passageways of an enemy submarine under guard searching for a sabateur he suspects is him is not Chameleons idea of fun. In fact, it's possibly one of the most terrifying experiences of the young changeling's life. Squads of men are almost certainly running to and fro trying to repair damage and restore some semblence of control, but none of this serves as sufficient distraction to force the dreamer's attention away from his goal. Perhaps these guards could be… turned. "Heinrich? Guertsen? You know I am loyal to mein Fuhrer, ja?" he says just as they descend into darkness.

There… a shadow… movement… what? "An intruder! There is your sabateur!" he shouts, pointing in the direction of the shadow as he breaks into a run, literally jumping at shadows.

The two troops spring into action, leaping forward — perhaps to catch the saboteur — or perhaps intent upon obeying the Captain's orders to keep you in sight at all times. They gave no response to your question, but the shadow seems to sense your approach, diving more deeply into the depths of the ship, ducking under machinery.
As you and your entourage round the corner, there is the sound of silenced gunfire, almost inaudible over the intense rumble and motion of the engine machinery above you. One shot, two shots, that whistle by your head. But you were not the target. With matched grunts, the two soldier twins go down, each of them from a perfect shot drilled through their heads. "I was wondering when you could come here, Chameleon," comes the growling voice of the Political Officer. Speaking English, with an American accent. "Capturing you, the Saboteur, the murderer of your two guards… that will cement my career, and my cover."

He steps out of the shadows, with the gun aimed right at your chest, a smirk on his Nordic-looking face.

Almost skidding to a halt, Chameleon starts to duck behind cover when the shots zip by but stops as his two guards fall. When he hears the political officer's speech though ducking behind cover seems like a decent enough idea afterall, for all that it's too late.

"Your cover… you are a spy, ja? If I am to die, let me know who it is that is killing me, ja?" says the changeling, stepping forward slightly, careful not to offer a threat as he endeavors to find a good piece of cover to hide behind in case bullets start flying.

It's only one or two soft, slow steps before he stops beside a heavy pipe thick enough to hide behind should that be the case. Instincts cause him to tense his right arm in preparation to play that ace, the ace that he doesn't have here.

The guy's finger tightens on the gun, and he steps around, placing himself into a rather disadantageous position in the effort to keep you covered. "You are worth more alive to me than dead," the American tells you. "But you're still worth something dead. Stay right where you are," he order, with an almost manic grin. "Don't even twitch." He steps toward you, attempting to place something into one of the pockets of your uniform. A gun, identical to the one he is holding. And somehow, you have no doubt that his fingerprints will be carefully absent from the weapon.

«Plot» SlingGM says, "Place of battle. This can be handled with a roll — or in this case, I'm going to actually do combat. Your action."
«Auto-Judge[]» Chameleon (#3977) rolls Tai Chi Ch'uan + Karma Pool: 3 vs TN 4 for "KP 1/6":
1 2 3 4 5 5 8 8 11 = 6 Successes

The guy slips the item into our pocket. A gun, it would seem, and he pulls back the handkerchief, smirking as he steps away from you. As you fail to try anything that he might interpret as 'funny' and thus worthy of getting shot. "Now. Turn around, march toward the bridge," he urges, with a broad grin. "We're going to have a conversation with the Captain." He gestures with the gun. "Move it."
And that's when it hits him… he looks surprised, grunting with effort as the damage from your attack strikes him without any warning whatsoever…

«Auto-Judge[]» SlingGM (#669) rolls 4 (body) + Combat Pool: 4 vs TN 7 for "Resisting 7D stun.":
1 2 3 3 5 5 10 10 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» SlingGM (#669) rolls 4 (body) + Combat Pool: 4 - 2 vs TN 7 for "Resisting 7D stun. KP 1":
1 2 4 4 5 8 = 1 Success

"You did this to me," he realizes, though he knows not how. And he aims the gun, firing it, sending two slugs toward you from close range…

«Auto-Judge[]» SlingGM (#669) rolls 5 (pistols) + Combat Pool: 2 vs TN 7 for "Bang!":
2 3 4 5 8 10 16 = 3 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» SlingGM (#669) rolls 5 (pistols) + Combat Pool: 2 - 3 vs TN 7 for "Bang! KP 1":
2 3 4 10 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» SlingGM (#669) rolls 5 (pistols) vs TN 8 for "No recoil comp. Bang again!":
1 2 4 5 9 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» Chameleon (#3977) rolls Combat Pool: 5 vs TN 4:
3 3 4 5 8 = 3 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Chameleon (#3977) rolls Combat Pool: 2 vs TN 4 for "Dodging the second round":
1 5 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» Chameleon (#3977) rolls Combat Pool: 2 vs TN 4 for "KP first shot. KP 0/8":
4 10 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Chameleon (#3977) rolls Body vs TN 2:
1 3 4 4 9 = 4 Successes

You take the shot — but it doesn't really hurt that much. You've been shot before — and it generally hurts like a bitch. This, though, is absorbed by the fabric of your uniform. And now you are left with your attacker, who suddenly has no real defense against you, and he has already fired off two shots rapidly.
And he's still staggering from the effects of your earlier strike.

«Auto-Judge[]» Chameleon (#3977) rolls Tai Chi Ch'uan + Combat Pool: 4 vs TN 4:
2 2 2 2 3 4 5 5 5 8 = 5 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» SlingGM (#669) rolls 3 (brawling) vs TN 7 for "He's so screwed.":
1 4 17 = 1 Success

Chameleon sweeps his leg up and around, bringing the inside of the arch up to meet the man's jaw at speed. This is definitely no german technique, in fact it's likely not even recognized as a combat technique at all in this era, but it certainly serves the purpose. The kick snaps the man's jaw to one side and Cham lets the reduced momentum bring his leg back down and recovers instantly to a fighting stance.

«Auto-Judge[]» SlingGM (#669) rolls 4 (body) vs TN 6:
3 3 5 8 = 1 Success

The man collapses to the ground from your kick, and the gun goes flying, spiralling on the ground toward the two men. And now, you are suddenly free. Unescorted. And the Captain is on the bridge.
And the security officer has a key to everyone's quarters.

First things first. Chameleon grabs the pistol and wipes it down with a handful of his sweater then, careful not to touch the weapon himself, places it in the man's hand, leaving a small charge in his aura set to go off in about ten minutes, just to ensure that he stays down. That done, the changeling steals the passkeys and heads back up to the upper decks.


Part 5: Place of Knowledge


Upstairs there is still organized chaos, as the events below couldn't have taken more than five minutes all told, far from enough time to stabilize the ship or repair the damage. He slips through the crowd, returning salutes precisely when they are given, but otherwise ignoring all other distractions in his efforts to reach the captains quarters.

The crew is too busy to challenge or question you, and all those who witnessed it are down below. But this area of the ship is nearly deserted, the area where your quarters — and the Captain's — are located. The key slips easily into the lock — and there it is, the Enigma machine. Another key on the ring easily opens the device. And there it is, perfectly, the wheels set just as they were for the last message, which is right there on the table — both encrypted and decrypted. It is the work of seconds to check the wiring, then to pull the rotors and investigate them, memorizing every detail that you can, to later send to Bletchley.

«Plot» SlingGM says, "Place of Knowledge. Let's do… Security procedures to resist 2M physical."
«Auto-Judge[]» Chameleon (#3977) rolls Security procedures vs TN 2:
1 2 2 4 = 3 Successes

Chameleon focuses, using every aspect of his abilities to study the decide in the smallest detail. Chi is flowing, even here in this dream of the past, and as a result he is able to study the device in microscopic detail, holding onto the small hope that he can retain the details of the construction to report to Bletchley. On an off chance, the information acquisition specialist, or Spy, even takes the time to study the thermal signature of the device in case there is some special material used in its production.

You are sure you have it, though your head is throbbing. And that is when you know something else. You have a choice to make. You can radio this back to Bletchley… or you can risk waiting on that. If you radio now, someone else will find the bodies, and wonder where you are — you will be shot as a traitor. But if you wait… there is a good chance this priceless knowledge will not get back home. The Allies will lose valuable intelligence.
This comes down to your life… or your mission. And you must choose at this moment — to head to the bridge and report this. Or to make the call. Already, you can hear some commotion belowdecks. Perhaps somebody just found the bodies.


Part 6: The Citadel


Information gained, legendary device studied, the changeling stands back, a faint trickle of blood from his nose and a splitting headache pounding his temples. Focus… focus… Chi must flow freely, not be bound like an animal, but flowing like a river.
Chameleon sighs, taking the opportunity to rub his temples with his fingertips as his mind races to a conclusion he doesn't like. The mission means potentially millions of lives… against his one. There is no doubt what must be done. He cracks the door open just a touch and peers out, finding the corridor relatively clear he slips out and makes his way to the communications room to call Bletchley.

It doesn't take long for you to encode the message using the poem — and once you have, you duck into your private corner, sending your message. Frantically keying it, keying as much data as you can. And even when they find you… even when they peer inside and threaten you with guns — your finger stays on the key, transmitting the last of your report back to Bletchley, even as they haul you toward the bridge.
The last thing you see as the Captain, as he sneers at you. "Good bye, Agent Chameleon," he says, and lifts his gun to your face… pulling the trigger.

That's the last thing you remember, as you wake up some unknown amount of time later… in a hospital bed. There is the sign of the red cross above the bed — and for the briefest moment, it appears in your mind as a swastika. But the nurse who comes in is brunette, and very far from Nordic. And her Cockney accent is a welcome sound to your ears. "You got visitors, luv," she says, giving you a warm smile. "You're a hero, they say."
The man who comes in, you've never met before. You've never seen him — slightly portly, smoking a cigar — in a hospital — but he has a warm smile on his face. He approaches your bed, offers his hand in greeting. "You did well, Chameleon. Thanks to you, we know what we need to know. And you… are due a promotion."


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