The Boneyard

GM: Simone
Players: Blindside, Chaz, Dante, Slide, Smoke
Synopsis: A team is assembled by a mysterious J to eradicate a squadron of raiders in the Mojave Desert
Date: Jan 28, 2060

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Introducing…

Blindside

"I was stand'n on a corner in Winslow Arizona, what a fine sight to see, it's a girl my lord in a flat bed ford slown' down to take a loooook at me!" Calls out Blindside. You can't really call it 'singing' as that implies some musical, tonal quality to the sound. In this case, it's just a man shouting in the shower.

In the back of Scabbard, Blindside is cleaning himself from the dirt and grim of the days work in Los Angeles. A package delivery run, high combat probability sort of thing, had the Convoy as a whole running I-40 from Albuquerque to Flagstaff, then 17 south to 10, 10 right across the desert in to Los Angeles. The attack materialized near the desert's southern edge, a group of Ute Apache's on bikes. The problem was taken care of and after a quick turnaround… he's headed out again, back for Denver.

Somewhere around Palm Springs however, Bambi hands him a towel. "You. Shortman. You have a call on the trid."

Blindside raises an eyebrow as he moves, still nude and dripping, to the trid station, a towel now draped over one shoulder. "WHATS THE HIZZZZZZZZZAPS?" He asks.

The Voice. A johnson he knows. The Voice. A mysterious person who offers jobs. "I have a job for you."

"Now idn't that something. I can't help ya man, I'm out near LA on the way back to Denver."

"I know."

Blindside eyed Bambi, then his trucks. "Creepy. Okay. Whats the job?"

"Detour to 29 Palms. Await further instruction."

"… Got any more details?"

"No. Do as I say and you will be rewarded. Fail to comply and I will find another for the job."

"Well, I am running light back home and fuels expensive. I'll be there."

"I know."

Call ends.

Smoke

Lady White contacts Smoke in his dreams, giving a short but meaningful message: "Smoke, you must meet with Paralda…" An image of a mountainside park appears to you before you wake up, along with an image of a pale man standing calmly in the face of great winds. You somehow know this to be on the outskirts of Denver. It just feels right.

Smoke wakes and blinks a few times knowing that Lady White doesn't call unless there is need. He slips out of bed, careful to not wake Melissa he showers, dresses and starts gathering his gear. He leaves a note on the dresser. 'Off to make some money. Be good, and you know what I mean.'

Smoke steps out into the parking lot and conjures a small force two wind spirit to guard him and then gets on his bike heading for Highway 83. Castlewood Canyon State Park rings in his mind. The name Paralda and the image of the pale man etched in his memory from the dream make him wonder what he's been called to do now.

Chaz

A call comes to Chaz through the offices of Jeremy Falloon, though much care was taken to disguise the datatrail. Chaz' presence is requested at a "luncheon" which will be held at the Castlewood Canyon State Park of all places, concerning ex-UCAS interests in the Mojave…

Chaz grins as he gets the call to show up to a luncheon at the State Park. He looks down at himself and plans his clothing for the day, a sort of business casual look of button up shirt and tie and simple pressed pants, giving him the look of a suit, though the sunglasses resting over his eyes sort of break that image, though they do blend in well with his choice of transportation, the motorcycle. Judging by the look on his face and his actions, he doesn't seem too concerned with the summons, though seems to be trying to puzzle out what is happening.

Slide

A trixmail from Chase Wilson informs Slide of some 'freelance' work to be found at a ranger's station chalet in the Castlewood Canyon State Park.

Hey, wanted to let you know, I got word of some work with a guy named Paralda.
[A small embedded map shows the destination.]
I would've gone myself, but I have a family event to attend this weekend. Break a leg. And don't say I never gave you nothin'.

Slide shakes his head at the message, then goes to get prepared. He tells his wife he will be heading out, and gives her the usual spiel that if he doesnt return, money will be forwarded to her. He prepares a disguise, his usual cowboy look, taking the image of the marlboro man from the big posters and commercials. He wears his coveralls and armor, packs his gear in his Jeep, and heads to the meet with his small pistols concealed on his person.

Dante

Tyler sends Dante a very gracious trixmail genuinely detailing, (though somewhat sarcastically), how thankful he is to have had your assistance with recent matters. As a PS at the bottom of the message, he has added a link to a second memo with a map. An X marks the Castlewood Canyon State Park, along with a small note that reads:

Just passing word along. A J I never heard of calls himself Paralda is assembling a crew. Don't ask. You know as much as I do now.

Dante looked at the note and made a slight frown of suspicion. He trusted Tyler but the lack of details made him feel a little iffy. He decided to head to the meet but with his clip of gel rounds he kept in his ares, he also tossed a clip of exex into his coat pocket. he got into his truck and drove a few blocks from the meeting place and stashed the vehicle opting to go the rest of the way on foot. as he walked he kept feeling a little uneasy, there was something about this job he felt that would be different from the ones he had been on before.

Castlewood Canyon State Park

Entering the state park, the runners are treated to a fairly pleasant winding drive in their respective vehicles through lush forests and wide mountain vistas, eventually reaching a chalet that resides on a railed cliffside near a small parking lot. The small, log-cabin style chalet is often used as a resting place for hikers or simply a rest stop for highway travelers. You have all been informed to meet with a man calling himself Paralda, and that there will be others joining the event so it should come as no surprise when a cowboy, a seeming hiker, an elf and a native man all converge near the hikers' shack…

+ Meanwhile, in SoCal

Slide steps out of his jeep, smiling at all the gathered people, making his way towards the cabin, he nods to the others. "Howdy pardners." he chuckles faintly

Smoke parks his bike and squints at the cowboy, long time since he's seen Slide and glad he apologized that day now. He turns the engine off and looks around. The place looks nice. He stretches and the movement gives him the feel that all his equipment is in place. He glances at the elf, and then the hiker, proceeding toward the building.

Chaz brings his bike to a halt as he approaches the destination. The engine shuts itself down, the bike going into sleep mode. Stepping off, he looks around, hmmming to himself before adjusting his tie. "Almost like wearing a noose at some of those high speeds," he mutters to himself as he takes in the surroundings.

Slide chuckles "Aint it a bit cold to be riding that there bike pardner?" he offers to Chaz, seeming to wait for someone else to go inside first.

Chaz glances at Slide and shrugs. "It's mind over matter… And as I've got no mind, it doesn't matter," he replies jokingly before looking more to the building as he starts to walk towards it.

Smoke recognizes Chaz now as well as he walks up. He nods to the man and gives him a small grin as he puts his shades in his pocket. As he heads to the door of the chalet he shakes his arms a little getting the feeling back into them. The bike ride was indeed a cold one.

The sky is cloudy but bright with the obscured light of the sun. Strong winds blow through the canyon, and the air smells sweet and full of life.

+ Perception Rolls <<OOC>>

Paralda

No one is particularly caught off guard by the sound of a lock rasping open from the inside of the chalet's door. As the assembled runners approach, the wooden door swings open to show a small and simply-appointed entry. Wooden benches line the walls, some cupboards are arranged in one corner, and a couple small paintings are bolted to the walls. The runners are not invited inside however, as a slender man with a pale face and nearly white hair that flows in the wind steps forth.

Slide spreads his coat slightly, like something a gunfighter might do, though, there are no pistols at his hips. He watches the Johnson, and the others carefully, waiting to see whats going to be said next.

Dante approaches from down the path and looks at the scene before him. he sees a few people standing around but only vaguely seems to recognise Slide. maybe it was in passing at a bar or something. he had his hands in his pockets at the time and seemed to have a bit of a slouch to his shoulders. He gets there a little late, but just in time to see the door open and the elderly man step out. with no time for introductions just yet he simply walked to the back of the group and stood silently.

+ Slide, Incognito <<OOC>>

Chaz offers a nod to Smoke before he hears the door open. He doesn't make a move to combat, instead regarding the old man as he steps out to join them. He gives a light smile and a nod to the newcomer, acting polite for the time being.

Smoke stops in his tracks as the man comes out, his hands in his pockets. He nods at Paralda, recognizing him from the dream. He looks past the man for a moment and then centers his gaze on him. He doesn't say anything yet, waiting to see what happens.

Paralda's pale, seemingly formless 'cloak' flows in the wind, concealing his hands and feet. He seems utterly calm and natural in the midst of the heavy canyon breeze. Speaking with a soft breathy voice he takes a long look at the assembled group and bows lightly. "I am glad you have come. You may call me Paralda. Please, enter." He swings his bow around to gesture to the doorway.

Aside from a second door in the chalet, the main feature is a massive picture window which takes up nearly the whole wall facing the canyon. It provides an optimal view of the state park's natural beauty.

Dante watches the old man carefully. he looks around at the others and gave a shrug. for the time being he didn't see any threats so he stepped forward and offered a polite bow to the man, a habit he was beginning to pick up from so much time with a couple friends of his. he made his way in and stood by a chair but did not sit just yet.

Smoke moves forward and enters the room, looking for a chair. As he passes the man he says quietly, "My name is Vapor, thank you for the invitation." He takes a seat on one of the wooden benches and makes himself comfortable. He studies the white haired man carefully.

Slide says nothing, but makes his way into the building last, moving into the room and remaining standing, he doesn't know anyone here except Smoke, and him only barely. He remains cautious, waiting.

Paralda nods to Smoke and waves him in. He waits to be the last one in, closing and locking the door behind him.

Dante looks out the window and into the canyon. The view was indeed grand and kinda gave him a pang of homesickness for the territory he left. His reasons for leaving were with the people not the setting. He some times missed the scenery. after a moment he hears the door close and looks back to the room. he then takes a seat following the example of the others and waits for the explanation as to why they are there.

Chaz moves into the room, nodding his head again as he does before moving to take a seat. He focuses on Paralda, as he is the one who assembled this group, letting his senses kick into full.

Before Paralda can begin any discussion, the second door pops open to reveal a young lady in a denim vest and a flight cap who is buckling her belt. The sound of a flushing toilet is heard, a lightswitch is flicked, and she calls out, "Paralda! They here yet?" With a start, she is frozen in the act of buckling and finds the answer to her question sitting before her.

Tracer, the Desert Rat

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Slide stands, not taking a seat, he waits to see whats going to be said by the man and now the woman, obviously part of the package here.

"Shit! First one here, and I'm /still/ late to the meet!" The girl waves, smiles, gives the nearest person a handshake, (it just so happens to be Slide, who gets a wink), and takes a seat herself as Paralda begins to speak.

"Everyone, this is Tracer. She will be your tour guide."

Slide shakes the hand with a gloved one of his, chuckling slightly at the wink.

Dante jumps a little from the appearance of the woman and his hand was halfway behind him before he relaxed. he sighed and gave a sheepish grin and a nod of greeting "Sorry, reflex."

Paralda continues, using his hands in wide sweeping gestures as he speaks, almost seeming to dance. "Should you see fit to accept my request, my companion Tracer will be taking you to the Mojave Desert in order to aid me…" He watches for dissent before finishing.

Smoke smirks at the funky looking flight girl and turns his attention back to Paralda as the man starts speaking. He raises his eyebrows at the mention of the desert. Still, he waits for the pitch.

There is a smirk on Chaz's face as he watches the others, slightly nodding his head. "Sounds like it could be interesting, so far."

Tracer leans out and slaps Chaz's knee, raising her eyebrows and whispering, 'Hell yeah!'

Dante looks up at the mention, he had heard of the Mojave, and knew about where it was. He was a little worried. "Getting to the Mojave requires travel through Ute territory though doesn't it? that could be…troublesome for me. Once you leave there you aren't exactly welcome back with open arms."

Slide crosses his arms, still standing and watching, one hand reaches up to adjust his cowboy hat slightly, still listening to the Johnson for today.

Chaz lets out a bit of a chuckle at the slap to his knee before he glances over at Dante and smirks. "You're only in trouble if you get caught," he offers under his breath.

Tracer speaks up, a bit quicker on the draw than the ageless Paralda, "Nah, I'll be takin' you guys through Pueblo airspace. We ah, we got some leeway." she nods and turns to the elder.

With his wide gestures and flowing robes the man carries on. "I would ask you all to remove a group of raiders from an area near the town of Mojave. I… cannot be at peace there while they cause so much chaos…"

Tracer removes her flight cap, revealing a pink mohawk which lies flattened on one side of her head. The rest of her hair has been shaved away, making a datajack visible behind sharply pointed ears. "Yeah, so basically what he's getting at is that he wants us to kick these assholes outta Mojave. We need you guys, cause, well, Parry here can't do it on his own, and the people I work with can't be implicated, ya scan?"

Slide nods his head, still listening "So, we killing, or relocating, or does it matter?"

Smoke tilts his head a little, taking a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket along with a tarnished silver lighter. He fiddles with the pack for a moment and then taps one of the cigarettes out. "Define this chaos for me. What are they up to? And yeah define remove too." His voice is calm and somewhat curious.

Dante relaxes a little but was still a bit edgy. for the time being though he just nodded and let the man continue. seemed like a standard hit case, but for the he didn't know the numbers he nodded at the other's questions and decided to ask a few of his own "seems simple enough on the surface. but I also wanna know what kind of gear do these raiders have? mods, cyber, that sort of thing, and would you happen to know if many are of the magicy sort?"

Paralda turns a blind eye to Tracer's yammering as though they have some sort of unspoken agreement. He responds: "Your methods are yours, but I ask that their removal be permanent…"

Tracer translates: "We're gonna wipe the desert with their asses." She gives a big grin and ruffles a hand through her flattened 'hawk.

To Smoke, Paralda leans close and in his breathy whisper offers his explanation. "You will be at a disadvantage, friend, but your aid is dearly needed. The savages have taken residence in a location that I fancy as my own, and are filled with rage. This makes me uneasy and I cannot bear it any longer."

To Dante, Tracer tilts her head and speaks. "Not much that you could call high-tech out in the Mo-Haiv, but they got numbers, and they got guns. Parry's place he's talkin' about is an abandoned boneyard for jets. Why he likes the place so much, I got no clue. But anyway! These guys, they're a unit of Minton's Cal Guard that went berserk and we gotta put a stop to it! They been fucking up the trader caravans and the cities to the north."

Smoke puts the cigarette to his lips and leaves it hanging there. He pockets the pack, some brand with strange looking Hebrew lettering. He absentmindedly thumbs the flint wheel as he listens to the man. Speaking around the cigarette he says, "Well now you have my interest. I like being needed, gives me a chance to wear my white hat." He purses his lips around the cigarette, nodding a little.

+ Comprehension Rolls <<OOC>>

"When you're a Jet, you're a Jet all the way," Chaz offers as he listens to the idea about the jet boneyard while letting the information settle in his head.

Smoke smirks, doesn't turn his head but says, "Til your last cigarette."

Slide remains quiet, listening to the people talk, and the questions being asked and answered.

Dante nods knowing a bit about the political warzone that California has been in. he sighs and taking a hint from smoke, though he didn't know his name yet, and reached for his own pack of menthols. he packs the top a little bringing one out. the pack it self was crumpled and old looking but still had about half of the smoke left in it. he probably didn't smoke often, but enough to have one now and a gain. he put it to his lips and started fishing around for his lighter" well, sounds to me like you need some people "handled" that stuck there feet in a place thy aren't welcome. I think I am your man, though I may need to do a tiny bit of shopping first to prepare, that is unless you are able to provide any special equipment"

The elf girl stands and gives a little turn, looking everybody in the eye. "Soooo~ Come on, guys! It'll be a cakewalk! I'm gonna fly you down through PCC airspace to 29 Palms. Sounds like a resort, but it ain't. I'll set you up with some buggies and we can head to the boneyard. We should be done by tomorrow evening and you can be back home for dinner."

"Disadvantage?" Smoke asks, almost lighting the cigarette but holding back for some reason. He nods to what the girl said but looks back at the white haired man.

The figure in white nods placidly to the native. "The Mojave is in turmoil. More so than many other parts of the Earth. The desert is not very suitable for those who pursue passions similar to your own."

Smoke nods, "Is there a warp?" He blinks a few times and tilts his head.

"Or maybe he just is referring to breathing," Chaz mutters idly.

Paralda carries the second conversation with Smoke quietly while Tracer chatters and jumps around, smiling and slapping shoulders. "The Mojave is not a peaceful place. It has a mind of its own, as many places do, and simply wants to be at peace."

Tracer leans over Slide and pulls his cowboy hat off, trying it on herself.

Smoke nods and seems satisfied with the man's answer. He sits back, still not lighting the cigarette and lets others ask what they need to. He seems content.

Slide frowns, watching the hat leave his head, but he does and says nothing, letting the woman amuse herself.

The elf struts with the hat on, doing a Marlboro man impression in as deep a voice as she can muster.

While pretending to gallop on a horse, Slide's too-large hat falls from her head and she hands it back to him, giggling.

Dante blinks at the strange demonstration of the woman. She was rather insane, cocky, a little more then weird, and didn't seem all to concerned that we were likely going to be running into a fire fight….he liked her. He finally found his lighter and brought it up to his face, unlike smoke though, he lit his before speaking "so, how exactly is a plot of land going to make things difficult for us? tricky terrain?"

Slide shakes his head, taking the hat, and putting it back on, adjusting it for a moment, then waiting for further response from the others.

+ Blindside Mocks the Desert Rats

Paralda spreads his arms wide, and it may occur to the cleverest among the group that he has not revealed his hands for a single moment, even through all of his dramatic gesturing. "The desert is surrounded by mountains, yet the floor itself is nearly as flat as can be. Terrain should not pose a problem for you though distances are not traveled easily."

The girl jumps in, "Mostly, we just gotta get to the boneyard and see what we can manage in order to get these guys outta there."

+ Blindside Needs a Miracle

The girl claps her hands together after explaining the basics. "Now. Everything sound good? If you're all in, we can head to the airstrip and we can play the name game!"

Slide smiles faintly "Pay for this little job would be…." he leaves it hanging.

Smoke looks at the cowboy with a grin, tilting his head again and almost putting the lighter to his cigarette. His thumb doesn't flick the wheel…yet. He wonders if they'll fly in a jet. He keeps patient and doesn't fret.

Tracer cocks her head to the side and scratches around her datajack. Paralda stands regally, facing out the window. Obviously she's not the one in charge of payment… The elder with uncannily smooth skin turns around with a blissful expression and regards the whole group.

"I can provide many things that people covet. I must ask that you take a risk on my request, however, for money is… difficult for me to possess. Rest assured, your good efforts will not go unrewarded."

Tracer raises a hand meekly, the first reluctant action she's made since she's entered. "I'll vouch for 'im," she says sheepishly.

+ Blindside's Miracle

Slide shakes his head "The last time I took the word of someone all mystical and magical, I asked for lottery numbers, and got a wife…..so, pardon me if I'm not overly enthused by these promises of rewards. Can you explain a bit better how you intend to compensate me for my efforts?"

"You'll be helping people that really need it…" The girl runs a hand through her mohawk and takes a seat, looking much less enthused than she has been to this point. She still tries to keep her everlasting smile, but her eyes show something other.

Smoke nods to himself, "Good enough for me, just don't let it get around that I do open ended work. People will start thinking I'm a nice guy." He smirks and finally lights the cigarette. He then looks at Tracer and blows the smoke straight up in the air. "I'm in, mostly out of curiosity."

Dante regards the man as he takes a puff from his cig and leans back in the bench. he looks up at the ceiling and takes some time to speak. "so let me get this strait, you want us to go out into the middle of the desert, unfamiliar territory likely, take on an group of raiders on our own, driving around in old vehicles that, admittedly I may not be able to operate, and you want us to do this for very little pay, but there is equipment or gear or other such things you may get us in the future that about right?" he looks at the man with a blank expression and waits for an answer

"Men of faith are always talking about good things coming to those who wait," Chaz offers before looking at Dante. "Sometimes, you have to give into that faith, or maybe just some spirits in general. There's a bar nearby that serves a good '64."

Dante gave a light nod to chaz but held up a hand for a moment. he seemed to be going somewhere with his comment but was waiting on the man’s response first.

+ Blindside's Strongpoints

"I am not what you would call a man of faith, but I must ask for yours." If his hands weren't already concealed from view, his motion of bringing them together would be seen as putting them inside each other arm's sleeve. "One thing I can guarantee you…" With a very sincere expression he raises his eyebrows. "Shiny rocks."

Dante raises an eyebrow and seems to pause "Shiny….rocks? Are these rocks….useful?" he looked thoroughly confused at this point.

Not as transmissions, just ask Blindside.

Slide reaches up a hand to his hat, and adjusts it slightly "Shiny rocks…." he groans slightly "What the hell, everyone else seems to trust you, I guess I can too. I'm going to be pissed though if I don't get something useful out of this. And believe me….you don't want me pissed."

To the group, the sage-like figure continues his speech. "Don't all people become fascinated with stones that glimmer and shine? I know how valuable they can be… You must truly be unique to lack this trait."

Tracer puts her face in her hands and groans.

Chaz chuckles and smirks, considering. "Well, everyone must get stones…"

+ They're Not Paid to Think

Smoke looks at Tracer then at Dante, he grins some and glances at the cowboy and at Chaz, "Sometimes when I fly in planes I throw up. And I had stir fry last night so I am apologizing beforehand." He takes another drag on the cigarette and looks at Paralda.

Paralda smiles openly to Smoke and waits for responses from the others. Tracer starts to perk up too, strapping her leather flight cap with attached goggles back onto her head.

Dante finally nods and takes another puff "alright then. So were doing all this for valuable stones that we don't know the value of. And your word that it will be worth our time and effort." he looks around the the group with that same blank expression before finally breaking into a grin "Hell sounds like fun. besides' you could probably use some back up. though being out in the open on a flat plain is a little dangerous. all I have is black clothing. I would need to get some desert clothes or some ruth to help stay hidden. would also like to shop around for some APDS but I could work with what I have if need be. I only have 3 rounds left." he rambled a bit, towards the end. the "shopping list" more to himself then anything as he gathered his thoughts before finally adding "alright then, I am in….and I am not sitting next to Smoke."

Chaz nods slightly and looks around. "I'm in on this one," he says before glancing at Smoke. "I think I can help you deal with the throwing up thing. It's just an automatic reaction in most cases, but there are a few chemicals that can help deal with that," he offers.

"Yeah, I knew you guys'd be good for it!" Tracer… "We can take a little time before we leave, but we've only got til evening. I can get us there in time for some night-time recon." She jumps up and slaps a few more shoulders. "I'm a great pilot, too! Wait'll you guys see me in acti—OOF!!!" She stumbles and smacks her hip into the cupboards which in turn shuts her up and makes her face go beet red.

Slide nods "Alright, so, where are we leaving from?"

+ Yesterday's Lesson

"Oooowwww…" The incessant girl rubs her hip before answering Slide's question. "I got my plane hidden near here. Paralda found me a good little natural landing strip before I flew in."

Smoke looks at Chaz and nods with a hopeful expression. He stands up and stretches, the bike ride and then the bench making his ass really numb. He looks over at Tracer, "I just need to pick up a tan blanket I think, and some clothspins." He takes another drag looking at Paralda. He gives the white haired man a nod and then heads outside.

Slide shakes his head slightly "Luckily, I packed for emergencies, just need a few bags from my Jeep and I'm ready to go."

The figure in white offers heartfelt thanks to the team, his hair seeming to flow even in the still air of the chalet. Before everyone departs he offers one last comment. "Tracer is a good girl. She will see you through this." He leaves the cabin last, just as he was the last to enter.

Dante stands as well and gives his back a little stretch before promptly resuming his slouched posture. "Well I have a few things I need to grab as well. A change of clothes for the scenery would probably be fitting. I don't imagine you could provide a couple pictures of the area? Nothing specific, its just so I can get the color right."

+ Today's Lesson

The elf girl conducts a small meeting of her own in the parking lot, giving quick instructions on how to reach her plane hidden here in the Castlewood Canyon, and begins hiking to reach the location.

Gear, and Lots of It

+ Pre-run Shopping <<OOC>>

Slide prepares his gear. Camping backpack, rope, knives, food for a week, water. Grenade Launcher, Grenades, Ruger Thunderbolts, variety of ammo types, Ruthenium Cloak, hrm….electronics toolkit.

Slide adds 10kg of C4 with 5 remote detonators to his packing supplies.

Slide gets his Taccom as well, and all his usual softs in their chipslots.

Slide savior advanced medkit, need that too.

Smoke, in addition to the camping gear already has a rucksack with all sorts of crap in it.

Blindside has, out in the Mojave, his trucks, two cars and a sexbot. Inside the trucks he has prettttttttty much everything he needs.

Everything but love. But bambi will do for now.

Slide takes a porn chip, in case he gets bored.

Blindside doesn't share Bambi.

Slide takes his dart pistols and narcojet darts, cause, well maybe a silent assault will be in order.

Chaz hmmms as he looks over his list of supplies. "Let's see… Raiding and combat… Well, tear gas, slip spray, splat glue, spray foam explosives… Acid and truth serum, tool kit, climbing supplies, ruth with extra batteries, firearms… Yeah, this is going to be just like back home on the holidays. Just hope this time it's not someone in my family losing their hand."

Slide has a lot of food, cause, well, he has one of those pesky glandular problems.

Tracer's Baby

As the crew reassembles after their domestic chores, they follow the directions given them by Tracer. The path leads along the canyon wall, descending in switchbacks down into the valley where an antique plane awaits. The elf apparently flies an old WWII fighter plane, complete with a mural of a rockabilly chick riding a bomb, but otherwise painted in desert camouflage. Two soldiers, also in desert colors watch the descent, but take no action. Tracer meets the team and gets everyone and their gear settled for the trip.

Slide is quite the sight, I mean, thunderbolts strapped to his legs, dart pistols holstered under his arms, a grenade launcher slung over his back, and two large duffel bags full of gear in hand. He makes his way towards the plane, shaking his head "This thing looks ridiculous."

The soldiers make sure to take the two seats nearest the fuselage door, leaving the 'shotgun seat' available to anyone who desires it.

The sun is beginning to set in the valley, light fading slightly earlier than in the city proper.

Chaz has his armaments simple on hand, just a duffelbag and a backpack full of gear. He hmms softly as he sees the plane, smiling slightly. "What goes up must come down… hopefully in the same amount of pieces."

Dante walks up to the group with his gear slung over his arm and a briefcase in the other hand. he is wearing lightly tan camouflage that looks a little grainy as if to emulate the look of sand. unlike his normal clothing, his shirt is tucked into his like colored pants but pulled up just slightly over the elastic band. the material is light enough for desert heat but not so thin as to give the chills at night. he has a similar colored hood hanging on his head with a pair of goggles on his forehead to take the place of his normal headband. The hood has a small flap tucked inside it self that could be pulled across his face to protect from the sand, but for now was tucked away until needed. He is wearing a pair of light brown boots to complete the ensemble. "Nice plane…assuming it flies and all"

Tracer, while helping with the gear loading, pats the plane like a loyal horse. "She flies like an eagle." With a big smile, she offers handshakes to everyone in turn and asks names.

Slide has his hands full, and disregards the handshake "Call me Tex." and with that he climbs into the plane and looks for a place to sit down and stow his gear.

The elf sticks her tongue out at Slide's back and moves along unphased.

Smoke arrives with a small camping backpack and a rucksack. He looks at the plane and squints at it. He smokes two cigarettes as others arrive, knowing no one is gonna want him catering to his addiction on the plane. He gets his gear loaded and steps out for one more. He tilts his head a bit and then clenches his fists conjuring a mist spirit. The vapory form twists in the air above him for a moment becoming just slightly visible.

"Guard this plane as it courses through your domain." He orders the nature spirit quietly.

The mist spirit materializes and moves above the bomber, its shape looking some what avian. Smoke glances at it and nods knowing you can never be too careful. The spirit seems to almost infuse itself into the fuselage of the plane, or perhaps it is just covering it. Smoke gives a last look at the spirit and takes his last drag before climbing aboard.

Smoke looks over at Tracer, "I'm called Vapor."

+ Conjuring Rolls <<OOC>>

"The name's Rooks," Chaz says at the question before looking around. "Plane's not too bad," he says and smirks, "And at least we've got more than one pilot on board, just in case."

Dante walks up to the plane and offers a friendly smile and sets down his briefcase with a soft thud before offering a hand "you can call me Dante" he then hops up into the plane and stashes his gear before getting belted in

All Aboard!

Tracer calls out loudly, "All aboard!" As the runners take their seats, the two other soldiers strap on parachutes and instruct the newcomers where to find others if necessary. With a few last checks, Tracer sets the props spinning and taxis out of hiding onto a flat plain at the bottom of the canyon.

+ Takeoff Rolls <<OOC>>

The natural runway makes for a bit of a bumpy ride as the plane reaches speed, but the takeoff occurs without a hitch. From the small windows, the hired guns can see the canyon disappear below them, and the landscape spreads out beneath the rays of the setting sun.

b-24-liberator-ol-927.jpg

Dante held on tightly to the the hand rails as the plane starts to move. He had never been on a plane before now and it was a bit of a new experiance for him. as the plane taxied and started to take off he actually closed his eyes for a little bit and shivered until thinks stopped shaking and evened out. for the first time his cautious calculating was actually replaced with a bit of fear.

Slide is wearing a helmet now, removing all the masks and whatsoever, cause I mean, who is going to wear a polymask in the desert, the sweat would be insane. He finds a place to sit, buckles in, then tries to take a nap.

Smoke looks over at Chaz, "Got any dramamine? I mean, I know its sort of ironic that an owl shaman gets airsick, but its just in case you know." He shrugs a little.

Chaz nods to Smoke and moves to dig out his medkit, considering. "I think I've got something that should help out there," he replies to the question. "Just like a walking pharmacy."

+ Airsickness Roll <<OOC>>

Dante opens his eyes and looks around the area. the sights didn't look so bad, but the take off still had him considerably nervous. He put a hand on his stomach and groaned a little "um….I feel a little weird…is that normal? I haven't really flown before" he looked down obviously feeling in a bit of distress

The two soldiers refrain from strapping themselves in and joke amongst themselves about women, politics, and everything else under the sun. They display full comfort at being in the air, even standing up occasionally when their conversation gets animated.

Smoke looks over at Dante and then at Chaz, "Heh maybe some for that guy too. If he hurls, I will certainly lose it. I don't think its the flying part really for me, I think it is the smell of the fuel and the shell of metal around me. When I am astral I can fly all over the place with no trouble at all."

Tracer puts on a huge pair of headphones now that she's gotten to cruising altitude. She sings along, but with the sound of the engines and the other conversation it isn't too overwhelming.

Chaz nods and looks between the two queasy people and pulls out a pill bottle. Tapping out a few pills, he holds two out to each of them. "These should get to the point of settling your queasiness and just make you enjoy the ride," he says, "Once we get to Hotel California, things will be better, I'm sure. I hear it's such a lovely place."

Slide sleeps.

Smoke takes the pills and settles in, occasionally looking out with his astral senses to get a feel for the weather and potential oddness. He eventually drifts into a nap.

Dante extends a hand to take the pills and groans a little. he was going to ask about what the pills actually did but if they eased his stomach he didn't care. He tossed the pills into his mouth and then reached for his canteen for a bit of water and downed em both. he then relaxed back and tried to relax to let the meds work "ugh…thanks. sorry about the inconvenience"

Chaz shakes his head at Dante's comment. "Oh, don't worry about it," He offers, "Though, if you see pink elephants on parade, resist the urge to join them until we land, please."

+ Smoke's Sixth Sense <<OOC>>

Smoke wakes and shifts around a bit in his seat after having rested for a while. He frowns and seems to squint at the floor of the plane for a bit. He shakes his head and looks over at Chaz, "Old Whitehair wasn't joking, this is gonna be a bitch for me I think."

Slide remains seated and buckled in, his head slightly leaning to one side as he sleeps.

Dante was gone. his head was slumped over and his normal reserved and relaxed appearence was a bit more then useual. he was all but draped over the back of the seat with his head leaned back against the wall. he snored softly and his mouth hung open in a comical fashion as his mind wandered, lost in sleep.

Chaz hmmms and looks over at Smoke. "We all have our problems," he admits and nods, "It's what makes us nice and well rounded. Otherwise, someone might poke their eyes out."

Meanwhile, at 29 Palms

A knock on the door of Blindside's rig… «PAK PAK PAK»

Checking the external camera feeds from the other vehicles, Blindside sees who it is before he opens the door. He moves in to the forward command area of Leviathan, then rigs himself directly in to the armor clad Bambi. She then moves to the door, assuming its not an assault force, and opens ot.

Checking the external camera feeds from the other vehicles, Blindside sees who it is before he opens the door. He moves in to the forward command area of Leviathan, then rigs himself directly in to the armor clad Bambi. She then moves to the door, assuming its not an assault force, and opens it.

It's a recognizable Desert Rat, one who Blindside has encountered before in his brief little stay at 29 Palms, the Rats' main HQ. "Excuse me, is the dwarf around?" The soldier looks a little green. In a 'hasn't seen much combat' kind of way. A 'still has pimples' kind of way.

The kid couldn't be much older than seventeen, and looks nervous as hell.

The woman picks up the Ares Alpha assault rifle and slaps a clip in to the base of the magazine chamber. She takes a moment to reach up, unzipping her vest down to the middle of her rather copious breasts, standing with legs slightly parted, striking a very resident-evil pose. She smiles wickedly, and then in blindsides voice…

"WHAT UP BOYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!???"

"AAAaaaahhh!" He loses his shit. For any number of reasons, but grimaces and spits out his orders with a nervous stutter. "O-Our Pueblo scouts have re-p-p-ported a massive dus-t-t st-torm, sir—Ma'am! Coming out of J-Joshua Tree..!" He wrings his hands, which make a moist, squishy sound if you listen real close. "We're mobilizing forces to wait it out…"

Gladius reponds, its Optimus-Prime voice carrying in the desert. "Sensors report this is an accurate assessment. We should prepare to roll out."

Bambi offers a nod, letting her voice modulate back to her normal feminine, even if the vocal actor is Blindside. "Right. ANd what do you want me to do? My vehicles are sealed. Ready for running in the desert. You want to come in? Have a shower and a cup of coffee? Maybe a fudggie pop?"

The boy shakes in his desert-tinged boots. "N-No ma'am. No f-fudgie pops. I'm simply relay-y-ing orders." He makes an unsure salute and hightails it back to the base where soldiers are gearing up in a courtyard, wheeling buggies and dirtbikes out en masse. Engines are being revved and ranks are being formed.

The dirtbikes form rank rapidly and begin to strike off to the northwest in small groups of three to eight.

"That was mean, Duncan." Says Bambi.

"I know but it's so fun!" Says Bambi in response.

"Shall we roll out?" Bambi inquires.

"YEs. Form up the rigs. We'll roll out. Leviathan at the head. Cerberus at the rear. Put Gladius inside Scabbard, and roll with three on the ground."

"Aye Aye, Captain."

+ Terrain <<OOC>>

Great clouds of dust erupt from the sputtering tires, and the 29 Palms base is rampant with semi-organized mobilization. Either the Desert Rats are a military in a very loose sense, or there is a great cause for flight.

An open-topped desert buggy sidles up to the driver's door of the Leviathan and a goggled soldier shouts over the din. "Heading to Apple Valley! You with us?"

The airhorns mounted on the top of Scabbard sound twice, then once more in a long blast. The vehicles fall in to line with the main convoy, with Cerberus breaking off to perform scouting duties. Goddamn, it's a heavily armored offroad mustang with a cannon. Whats not to love?

The convoy heads west-northwest out to the old 247, once known as Old Woman Springs Road. As the last desert-swallowed suburb is passed, a wall of dust impossibly high and devastatingly wide begins to cover the entire city, blocking out the sun's last light.

Slow_Train_Coming_by_river_grace.jpg

Blindside reduces the convoy speed, even if that means the desert rats out pace his little convoy. No need to rush this, and the most important thing to remember in bad weather: You may be an awesome driver, but the other cars are all driven by incompetent jackasses. The Sensor packages on Scabbard and Leviathan link together to provide redundant coverage, just in case.

The outskirts of the storm overtake Blindside's vehicles along with a small contingent of trucks and buggies, but cause no severe damage this far from the epicenter. Visibility is brought down to near full darkness however, and navigation becomes difficult.

+ Leviathan's Sensors <<OOC>>

"Bambi?" Says Blindside over the internal speakers.

"Yes Duncan?"

"Have Mutt and Jeff initiate an air filter cleaning the moment we can stop for five minutes. They have to be near capacity after that."

"Of course."

The Desert Rats make their flight to the northwest in record time. A skeleton crew was left secured in their base at 29 Palms to last out the massive dust storm, but the majority of their forces now converge on the Apple Valley Highlands to perform vehicle maintenance and loot abandoned gasoline reservoirs. The small town south of Barstow may have been a risky choice of location for the Rats to evade the storm, but only time will tell…

Paratroopers

Hours pass, the landscape being overtaken by night as the group passes through Pueblo airspace. Tracer still sings to herself but it blends into the background noise until she leans back toward her two soldier companions and shouts. "X marks the spot, boys!"

The first soldier puts a pair of goggles on his eyes then readies his parachute and shouts confirmation to the girl. Soldier two nudges Slide who sleeps nearest the sliding door and says, "Hey buddy. Wanna get this for me?" He jerks the door handle and pulls, blasting the interior with intense wind, and he and his companion dive out into the inky blackness of the desert. The door remains wide open.

Slide looks around, stares a moment at the open door, then unbuckles, he moves along the line of chairs, holding onto them for support, and tries to close the door while holding onto something for safety.

Smoke just nods and concentrates on what he is feeling. The flow of mana feels so pure yet just out of reach. He reaches out and tries to get a feel for how his spirit is handling things if it is affected at all. The wind distracts him somewhat and it is difficult to concentrate.

Slide closes the door, then returns to his seat, straps in, and tries to go back to sleep.

Dante is awakened by the sound of the wind and he jumps a little and looks around rather groggily. he was still a little out of it but at least he was now conscious. he looked over as slide closed the door and looked around "was…that supposed to happen?" He looked back at chaz and blinked "I think next time I should take a much smaller dose."

Chaz looks over at Dante and shrugs. "Probably," he says and mmms, "Could just be a weakened immune system and the like," he says.

Smoke leans back in his seat a little and thinks about what it is that he is feeling. The connection to his spirit outside the plane seemingly feels fine. He hopes it is fine. He shudders a little, the mana coursing around him feeling like mentally damp sandpapery pudding. "Damned odd the way it feels." he says aloud.

Chaz mmmms as he looks around at the surroundings. "Not bad, but we should have tried to find a beach spot closer to the water," he says and chuckles.
Tracer removes her headphones and calls back, "Landing in about 20 minutes, boys! Buckle up!" The plane begins to slow and descend. The lights of a few Pueblo sprawls can be seen out the left side of the plane, but there is nothing else ahead or to the right. Nothing but desert.

Slide comes alert rather quickly, damn handy thing those sleep regulators. He makes sure all his gear is stowed, as well as himself buckled in.

Dante starts to regain a bit more of his composure. He took a small sip from his canteen and used a bit more to rub down his face to get a little more wakefulness to him. As the plane started his descent he again gripped the armrests but thanks to the lingering effects of the pills he would likely be fine. He saw the runway for now but for some reason it was a bit like looking through an old vid screen. he could still see the runway and all but something was definitely different then it would have been while looking at anything in Denver.

Smoke makes sure his seatbelt is fastened and closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath as the plane makes its descent. He stretches out his awareness and feels the pure flow of a power site. He's felt one before. The richness of it makes his skin tingle. But there is something different about it that he just can't put his tongue to.

Chaz hmmmms as he sees the landing starting to take effect, a smirk growing on his lips. He doesn't pay attention to the mana things, being a mundie. Magic is for those who can't do it on their own, after all. Instead,he's focusing on the airforce base that they are landing in. "I'm here to see Major Television Event Regarding one Major Marketing Campaign," he mutters.

+ Infrared and Landing <<OOC>>

Edwards Airforce Base

Tracer brings the plane in nice and smooth. Once the wheels hit the runway, the wing brakes kick in to slow the craft. You can feel that peculiar shuddering sensation of momentum combined with drag, but she gets you to the tarmac in the same condition as you took off in, no worse for the wear. "Roll out, omaes!" You know from previous discussion that you are now at a long-abandoned airforce base. Edwards Airforce Base to be exact, just twenty miles shy of your destination in the town of Mojave.

Slide unbuckles and grabs his bags and gear, making sure he has everything "Alright, so, is our transportation out here or what?"

Dante stands a little shakily and goes to get his gear. he grabbed his pack and his briefcase and got ready for when they came to a stop "well that was an experience. so where to now?"

Smoke unbuckles and takes up his packs. He shoulders them and departs the plane. The odd feeling persists but he lets it go for now. He follows the others quietly.

Tracer jogs a short distance from where she shuts the plane down, returning in a little desert modified pickup. She has the runners pile in and provides a short trip to the abandoned barracks. Sand is piled everywhere, but she has rooms set aside with windows intact for you to arrange yourselves as you see fit. Many of the barracks windows are missing or shattered from age and natural storms, but the rooms provided have actually been stocked with clean linens, battery-powered lanterns and small stores of food and water. After letting people settle in as they see fit, she leads the group to the mess hall to plan their next move…

Slide finds a bunk, and lays his bags on them, then looks around "Alright, so we got a base of operations, I get the feeling we might be here a while." he follows the others to the mess hall and finds a seat.

Chaz sets down his own bags and nods to Slide. "A couple throwpillows, maybe some curtains and a few doileys, and it could be a home," he jokes as he looks around. "So, what we need now is some information gathering at first, since I doubt we want to go in half cocked."

In the mess hall, a pseudo-military planning room has been assembled and members of the Desert Rats have been called to attend; a blank white wall is the target of a projector connected to a small desktop computer, and the planning for the runners' mission begins. Tracer seems to somehow have a main role in all this, even for her being lower-ranking. Her crew just seems to like her and trust her intuition.

Slide does not have his disguise on anymore, cause well, a few days in a desert in a polymask, no one wants to do that.

First Lieutenant Hartner

A grizzled Desert Rat introduces himself to the assembled group before anything formal occurs. He introduces himself as First Lieutenant Hartner and thanks the group for making the effort. Once a dozen or more Rats take seats at the long cafeteria tables Hartner has the lights dimmed and begins giving recent activity updates on all the local groups; PCC, the Japs, Ares corp forces, the California Rangers, and lastly, Minton's raiders…

The briefing is more for his own forces, as part way through the speech the group of 'outside operatives' are pulled to the far side of the mess hall and questioned by Tracer. As the runners describe their equipment loadouts and preferred skills, each person is paired up with a Desert Rat to plan separate yet complementary tactics.

The Team Splits Up

Chaz and Smoke Visit the Gypsies

With limited personnel on hand, Smoke and Chaz are both approached by a lightly bearded man of about 30, wearing ragged desert garb including a bandanna across his forehead. He trades introductions and has the men take seats with him in the dim 'meeting' room, away from the projector area so they can speak clearly.

Chaz looks the man over as they get introduced, hmmming lightly as he moves to sit down in the indicated area, waiting to see what the person has in store for them. Or perhaps working on a few plans in his head. He rests his hands in his lap, fingers laced.

Smoke takes a seat and stays relatively quiet, not certain what will be asked of him to do. He studies the man with the bandana carefully, looking at the state of his uniform and how he carries himself. Glancing at Chaz and then back to the man he finally speaks. "So what is it that you would like us to do?"

The man introduces himself by his callsign as many of the Rats do.

"Call me Morris." His uniform is ratty, (excuse the pun), but supplies are at a premium here in the forgotten lands of the Mojave. He seems lightly armored, but it is covered in tattered light brown and pale yellow fabrics.

"We have a few different objectives to achieve in a very short amount of time. Intel warns that the raiders are fortifying the boneyard to make a permanent base, and that can only lead to a full-scale assault given time. What I want you two to do is make contact with the gypsies. Their caravans can be found throughout the desert, and they alone can make contact with the raiders. They have some sort of agreement."

"So, we make contact with the raiders through the gypsies," Chaz offers, "And then what, use them to infiltrate the the base to take it out?" he asks, curiousity getting the better of him, perhaps.

Morris nods, responding to Chaz. "Right. I'll have other members of your squad running recon, but I need you two to accompany me to find the gypsies. They're our only option for getting -inside- without getting captured or murdered or worse."

Smoke listens to Chaz and watches the reaction from Morris. He leans back in his seat a little and tappity taps his fingers on his knees, trying not to light a cigarette.

Chaz nods and mmms as he listens to the man, nodding. "So, guess we'll be posing as either gypsies or some sort of interested parties able to supply them with whatever they may need."

Morris takes the runners' attentive listening as approval and stands. "Let me take you outside and show you what we're working with." He guides the runners out to a courtyard which once must have had luscious vegetation, but the desert has taken over, reducing it to a sandy lot. Vehicle maintenance is being performed by a small crew, and engine noise combined with tinkering tool sounds is happening all around, even though it is past dusk.

Morris points out two light strike vehicles, buggies with light machine guns mounted on the tops of their roll cages. "Being able to infiltrate the gypsy camp would be ideal. We have connections… But not that strong. The gypsies keep to themselves."

+ Assuming PC Knowledge <<OOC>>

Smoke follows Morris and nods looking at the vehicles. "So what sort of gypsy folk are we talking about? Are they natives? Or just bands of nomadic people grouped up for survival purposes? I am assuming people like that might barter for supplies." He sticks his hands in his coat pockets.

Morris nods to Smoke. "They're the people who got displaced after the whole world went to shit, and now they're trapped in the desert just like us. And the raiders. But trading is what they do. Just don't let 'em into your tent or you'll end up paying too much for water and they'll steal everything you own while you're taking a sip. They have the best water sources, but they keep 'em hush hush." He leans toward Chaz now and shares a bit of the local superstition. "Some say they can even turn sand into the black fuel… But that's total bullshit."

Chaz chuckles a bit at the comment from Morris about sand to black fuel. "I don't know. With the right chemicals, and a little bit of magic in this day and age, anything is possible," he says before looking around. "I think we can come up with a few ways in. Granted, if we're going to pose as one of them, we'll need to brush up on their language and the like, but I think we can do it. Money talks, if nothing else will."

"Do we try to pose as them, or simply meet them and attempt to trade gear and try to get in good with them?" Smoke looks a little out of his element but is thinking deeply about the best way to handle things. "I mean if we get noticed as being outsiders while trying to pose as them they might shut us off."

The seasoned desert veteran nods. "Our best bet is to try and accompany a group of them to the boneyard in a 'normal' trade run. Thing is, your 'money' won't have much of an impact on any dealings. Water and supplies are the only commodities worth a damn out here, but maybe we can strike up a deal. We Rats are prepared to offer them security details for their caravans if they'll aid us."

Chaz nods. "Slang, more than currency, but yeah, out here, it's the resources that matter. A group like that, might need a trained medic or something similar, depending on how things go," he offers idly, "But then its a matter of where the chips fall when we meet them."

"Oh I get it, Rooks you mean that we dress like them to fit in. My apologies." Smoke shakes his head a little. "I might be able to use a little magic to help us in some areas. But since landing the mana flow feels a bit off. I don't quite understand it." He looks at the vehicles. "I'm not that great a driver just so you know."

Morris continues as a gust of wind carries dust and debris through the courtyard. he squints his eyes, but doesn't react further to it. "I figure we can link up with a caravan by morning if we push hard tonight, and be at the raider camp by high noon tomorrow. If the gypsies are okay with it, we can catch some shuteye in one of their transports enroute. We're just gonna have to play it by ear."

Chaz nods and mmms, considering the information being tossed around. "Sounds like a plan, definitely," he says, "Just hope what we can offer them is greater than what the mercs can offer them."

The gusts pick up, growing into heavy swells of dust-laden wind that batter at the vehicles in the courtyard. Visibility dwindles to nearly zero, and the mechanics all dart to the building with haste, their steps crunching in the sand while they call out to each other to seek shelter.

Morris radios in to somewhere, "Heavy winds, could be another storm from Joshua Tree." He beckons the runners to follow him inside. "Make contact with 29 Palms and assess the situation. Over."

Smoke nods and says, "Nasty wind that is." He follows the others inside keeping his head tucked down. "Does it storm like this a lot?"

Chaz following with the others, his head down as well, glad for the protective eye covers.

Once out of the storm, Morris barricades the doors to the courtyard and licks the grit out from between his teeth as though he's done it a thousand times. He spits into a trash bin and leads the pair through the linoleum hallways of the airforce base back toward the barracks. "Happens a few times a month. Huge storms blow out of Joshua Tree that sweep across the whole desert. Lately though, they're getting more frequent."

Morris leaves the two of you to ready your equipment and tells you to be ready once the storm passes in an hour or so.

Smoke putters around getting his gear together. He ends up lighting a cigarette after he gets everything sorted out. "Good thing I spent extra money buying those cigarettes, sometimes tobacco is good for trading." he shrugs and smiles over at Chaz.

Chaz chuckles and nods to Smoke. "tobacco is good for a lot of things," He jokes as he slides his battery into his laser. "Sure hope we don't need that much combat."

In your room you can hear the storm rage outside. It rattles the windows and scrapes fine grit across the outer walls as though it means to scour the structure clean off the face of the landscape. Within an hour or so, the storm abates, reduced to a faint howling in the northwest that grows more distant with each passing minute.

A quick knock, then Morris opens the barracks door and steps in. He's lightly armed and looks ready to depart. "Ready to roll? We can't delay much longer or we won't be able to make our window of opportunity."

"So if one of those blows up while we are out there I don't think I am going to like it. I mean it sounds like it could strip you to the bone." The native is leaning against the wall, his lower back supported by his pack. "I'm alwayd for trying to find ways around confrontation, but I did bring plenty of ammo. Not that I am all great with guns." He looks up at Morris, "Yeah I am ready."

Chaz nods to Morris. "Yeah, I'm good," he says and smirks to Smoke. "Well, just don't get caught in one of those."

Morris takes the duo back to the courtyard where one of the mechanics is finihsing up a little sweeping, getting the sand out of the second of the Chenoweths: light buggies with four seats and a machine gun. What more could you ask for?

"Alright, Morris, sir! Two LSVs ready for duty." A younger Rat salutes and heads back to a miserable pile of rusted parts and begins tinkering.

Morris juts his chin to one of the vehicles and takes the driver's seat of the second. "You two take that one, I got this under control." He starts his engine and calls out over the high whine, "We get into any trouble, one of you should use the mounted gun."

Smoke looks at Chaz, "Driving or Gunning Rooks?" He smirks and looks like he is at a loss either way. "Whichever way we do it I am sure we'll have fun." His sarcasm is slight and he rolls his eyes at himself.

Chaz smirks slightly as he listens to Smoke. "I can drive pretty well," he admits, "As for gun, well, I've got decent skill, but never tried anything mounted just yet."

Smoke nods, "How bout I drive and you shoot? I mean that sounds like a plan, might be bad things out there and I wouldn't want to miss." He heads toward the buggy to get his gear stowed away. "I'll try hard not to flip us over."

With the dust storm past, the desert glows by the light of the moon. Visibility is high, and the route indicated by Morris seems like smooth sailing…

Mojave_Moon_by_shadowrx.jpg

Chaz nods and moves towards the buggy as he lugs his gear. "Sounds like a definite plan to me," he replies and smirks, looking around the area. "So far, so good."

Morris cruises alongside the runners, setting a good pace for the journey. His buggy sports two large fuel canisters instead of passengers, and the vehicle hops up and down the dunes with the practiced ease of an experienced offroad driver.
Leading the runners to the southwest, he calls out, "Should only have an hour or two to go before we make contact!"

Smoke concentrates on his driving, watching the unpredictable desert dunes carefully. He stays as focused as possible and watches for any signs of ambush. He finds the night drive exhilarating to some degree with the moon above and the wind in his face.

+ Surprise! <<OOC>>

The squad cruises in their southwesterly direction with no disturbances. Cacti and other desert plants dot the landscape casting moonshadows that stretch across the dunes like clawed fingers.

Morris leads the way to a small stretch of exposed highway, rare in these parts, and the going is made easier until…

A motorcycle bursts from the top of a dune to the right side of the road, launching into the air with a cloud of sand and a guttural scream!

A raider! The dirty, primal raider lands his bike on the hillside and makes his way toward the buggies with an evil grin. His armor is patchworked, with no attempts made at camouflage. Spikes which glint in the moonlight decorate his shoulders, and his hair is worked into a mohawk of spikes.

Smoke keeps the buggy riding even with Morris' vehicle and holds the wheel steady. "Rooks what does it look like?" He yells loudly enough to be heard and then hears the gunfire and ducks his head.

+ Fools Gettin' Blasted <<OOC>>

The raider's machine pistol chews into Chaz' armor while he cruises down the sandy hillside toward the buggies.

Chaz shifts in his seat at the shots coming to him. A couple gashes from the bullets, but his armor took most of the brunt of the damage. He grimaces from the pain and shakes his head to clear the pain starting to try and enter.

+ Sequencing <<OOC>>

Morris hadn't noticed the danger until the gunfire rang out, but he yells to the men, "Fuck! Raider scum… Cover me, I'm gonna get some distance between us to stop and use my machine gun!" Morris veers left off the road and starts to climb the hill on the opposite side of the highway from the marauding raider.

+ Combat Rolls <<OOC>>

Chaz pushes himself into action after getting shot, taking the gun in his hands as he aims it for the raider charging at him. He levels it down as much as he can, relying on his experience with guns in general to help him make the shot, squeezing the trigger to push the bullets from the chamber towards his target.

As he keeps the buddy steady on the pavement, Smoke reaches into his coat with his left hand and pulls his pistol, getting it ready. The sounds of Chaz firing the big gun are reassuring. It sounds powerful.

Commlink-Vapor> Smoke says, "Did you get him?"

The raider's guttural screams become drowned out by a burst from Chaz' Valiant as bullets rip through his chestplate. The bike skitters below him as he nearly loses control, kicking up huge clouds of dust into the desert sky.

Chaz keeps an eye on the raider, the gun sighting him as he tries to peg a better shot for the next time, his cybernetic comm kicking in through his transducer.

Commlink-Rooks> Chaz says, "Pegged him, but still mobile."

+ Firing Blind <<OOC>>

Smoke takes a quick bead and tries to put the laser sight on the raider. He squeezes the trigger quickly and the silenced shot seems to have no effect. He quickly turns back to face the road and watch where he is driving.

Commlink-Vapor> Smoke says, "I missed I think."

Three more bikes crest the top of the hill mere moments after the initial gunfire. Bullets rain down from one of the leather-clad figures.

The firing raider takes a single shot, and his form can be seen shaking as though coughing in the dust clouds. It misses, and he sights up for a second.

+ Sniping with a Heavy Pistol... <<OOC>>

A second shot rings out in the small canyon between the two dunes, striking Chaz' armor!

Chaz has his hands on the gun, targeting the gun on the first raider as the shot comes towards him. He leans against the gun, the bullet harmlessly hitting his armor. He grins a bit at that, nodding his head.

Now the two remaining raiders race down the dune to their injured comrade and heft him onto the back of one of their own bikes. With the loud whine of their engines whinnying into the distance, the marauders disappear into the hills…

Smoke keeps his eyes peeled, watching the dunes all around them. The adrenaline pumps through his body at the intensity of being fired upon. He watches Morris' vehicle to make sure he is still headed in the right direction, speaking over the comm.

Commlink-Vapor> Smoke says, "You okay? They still back there?"

As the raiders pull away, Chaz keeps the gun trained on them until they disappear before he leans against the weapon, letting the communit kick in.

Commlink-Rooks> Chaz says, "They're gone. I took a bullet,nothing major, though."

Morris has just gotten into position halfway up the opposite hill from where the raiders approached and is sighting up his own Valiant. He fires a hail of bullets as they disappear over the dune, then a sigh is heard over the commlink. "They're cowardly but persistent. Keep your eyes peeled on the rest of the trip. Good shooting by the way, Rooks. And we'll get you patched up at the gypsy camp." Morris locks the LMG's barrel back into place and descends to join you on the highway.

Chaz chuckles lightly at the compliment from Morris, shrugging his shoulders. "It's all in the wrist," he jokes before nodding and then turns his attention back to the road. This time, he turns his cybernetics on full blast.

Smoke nods and keeps driving, flipping his pistol to safety and tucking it under his leg so he can have both hands on the wheel. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

Bonfire_by_venture_imaging.jpg

The Desert Rat leads the runners toward the predicted coordinates of the gypsy caravan. As the two-car squad rounds a large hill, bonfires can be seen in the distance and the whooping voice of an alert scout can be heard coming from between you and the assembled group.

The layout of their camp is fairly impressive and must include a hundred or more people judging by the number of fires. You are not approached directly, but a non-hostile dirtbike rider pulls up on each side, staying twenty meters away, to guide you in. Morris takes the lead and draws up to the camp slowly, where a massive central bonfire is surrounded by people of all ages who dance and sing, seemingly without a care in the world.

Tents, RVs and other vehicles spread off into the night in a rough circle around the encampment.

Smoke keeps his vehicle just behind and to the side of Morris. He pulls in and leaves the engine idling, looking around at the unexpected sight. "I guess I expected something different. This actually looks interesting." He looks back and grins at Rooks.

Chaz picks up the light of the bonfires, the scene glowing quite brightly on his thermographic and low-light vision, both turning off to prevent any damage to his eyes. He nods his head a bit as the dirtbikes approach, a soft smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, looks like another welcoming committee."

Dante and Slide's Recon

Blindside's Mission
badlands
page revision: 49, last edited: 10 Feb 2010 09:33
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