Dec 11 21:50:00 108 PA - Talking About Aerial Intel

From Chronicles

Dec 11 21:50:00 108 PA.

LUCKY BILL'S AERIAL PHOTOGRAPHY

Located along Main Street, 'Lucky Bill's Aerial Photography' is one of those little-known small business gems that keeps local economies going. Just south of Harry's Gym, it's fairly well known among mercenary groups who operate larger missions, for construction companies, and generally anyone who wants an eye in the sky. Their facade is kept neat and clean, their signature light green fadeout gracing the exterior. The weather in Kingsdale continues to be horrible, what most people have come to expect for the next few months. Thankfully, it's not actively raining or snowing; unfortunately, being this close to Main means that there is a significant amount of black slush cast to the side. Most of the people indoors are starting to tidy up so that they can lock up and either go home to sleep, go out and get drunk, or perhaps hook up and nail someone. Or maybe all three.

Jaxain finished all three hours and hours ago, and has just been wasting time since then. He set up a meeting with the photographer who took the picture he saw, and sent out a radio call to Bart asking if he wanted to come along and get some more information. After all, they have very little to go on so far... Jaxain is waiting outside the building, looking fairly comfortable in his EBA with the helmet on.

Bartholemew hooks up with Jaxain and heads over with him to meet this pilot guy. He's just followin along, the skater is the one that knows where they're going to. He too, wears his EBA armor to keep the weather from biting at him, though it seems his norm for the most part. The vibro-knives and sword have been replaced with more archaic type blades. A Falchion across his back, Katara punching dagger on his belt.

Jaxain waves at Bart as he approaches, recognizing the man's armor. "Hey," he says, taking off his helmet. "Ok, it's about time." He says, leading the way inside.

Bartholemew's visor is thrown up to greet Jax with a grin, "Yeah yeah, we said before closing, it ain't closed yet." following him inside.

The door opens with an electronic *BZZZ* to let the staff know that potential customers have arrive. A cute blonde girl in her late teens looks up, rather startled. "Oh!" she exclaims in a soprano. "I'm sorry, we don't normally get people coming in at this hour. Only leaving." She blushes a little, straightens her skirt and hurriedly takes up a proper position behind the front desk. "I'm Sonia, welcome to Lucky Bill's Aerial Photography. How can I help you gentlemen?"

Jaxain smiles at Bart and throws him a wink, before turning to the reception girl and giving her a willing smile. "Hey, beautiful!" He leans on the counter, "Oh, I had a little meet setup with Squeaky at about now." He looks at the time on the wall. "In about a minute or so."

Bartholemew just gives a nod over to Jaxain, the pretty one, when the woman asks to help them. He looks around a bit, taking in the room, see what he can see while the other two conduct business.

The room's walls are flooded with photographs of interesting things. Not always clear what they are, but they're interesting. Even one with a close-up of an angry-but-battered Coalition SAMAS. Lucky Bill seems to have been recognized a number of times by the Council and local companies for 'superior work' in his field. A small menu of possible work itemizes only a few of their possible options. Squeaky does eventually come from the back. A tall, lanky guy with dark brown hair cut just above his ears, he's heavily tattooed in the 'tribal' manner, though apparently a member of at least sixteen different tribes. Whether it's his own nature, or just good business, he's quite friendly, extending a hand to meet the two gentlemen while introducing himself. "Hey, I'm Squeaky. How're you guys doing? How can I help you? Hey, hey, Sonia? Get these guys some water. Oh. Okay, yeah, thanks."

Jaxain takes off his gauntlet and shakes the man's hand with a friendly grin of his own, and looks around. "Hey, nice place you got here man!" He seems genuinely impressed. "My name's Stone, this here is Red." he introduces the two of them. "Thanks for meeting us." He looks up at the clock. "It's not too close to closing, is it? Don't wanna keep you from getting on home after a hard day's work."

Bartholemew gives the man a friendly handshake, nod and smile to go with it. He steps back to let Jaxain have the spotlight for now, after all, it was his idea to talk to the guy in the first place.

"No, no. Nice to meet you guys. The door locks at five, but the day isn't over until all the customers are satisfied and out," Squeaky says as he takes two paper cups of water from Sonia and hands them out. "What can I do for ya?" His eyes narrow slightly. "This isn't about the Thompson job, is it? Because I told him that all I could do was find his daughter, not make her get out from under someone."

Jaxain slaps Squeaky lightly on the shoulder and laughs, "Damn, but that girl knew how to jump a bone, eh?" He winks and shrugs, "Alright, how about this then, we wanna pick you brain about a couplla things, so you lock up and we take you out forra quick drink down at that place across the street from here. Sounds fair?"

Bartholemew thankfully accepts the water with a subtle chuckle of amusement at the description of what could be a very interesting story, but he lets Jax make the initial impression for the most part.

"Sure, sure," the tall Squeaky says. "Hold on, lemme get my coat." He vanishes to the back and is gone for a minute or two, reappearing with a heavy winter coat and a slung bag. After giving Sonia some instructions, and telling her to close up, he moves toward the door and gets ready to open it - not opening it until the last minute, to keep the cold out. "The Dribbler, right across the street."

Jaxain nods, grimacing slightly at the thought of having to cross the street again before he remembers he has his helmet with him. Truly, he has appreciated the armor no times more than this winter, if only to keep out the cold and the wet. It could make a man weak though, if relied upon too much... "Yeah, heard it's a good place. Or, at least, the waitress has a nice ass."

Bartholemew finishes with the water by then, tossing the crumpled paper cup in the trash. When Squeaky comes back out ready, he follows along to the watering hole across the street.

THE DRIBBLER

The door is opened, three men exit, then it is closed and locked. Apparently Sonia has either another way out, or another hour before leaving. Dodging traffic to get across the main thoroughfare of the city is always exciting, and it take nearly ten minutes to do it successfully. The Dribbler is a rustic place, seemingly made of logs, with a camping and hunting theme indoors. Of course, it still has vidscreens around. A pool table and two round card tables take up most of the floor space, with an old and clearly never-used jukebox in one corner. The walls are dressed up with imagines of people being cruel to passed-out drunks and those with hangovers. But this is a bar. A real bar. There are no waitresses or tables to sit at with loaded potato skins. They don't serve anything that hasn't been fermented or distilled - except for emergency water. The only food comes in the form of bowls of classic pretzels, nuts and crackers. It's quite busy, with a lot of laughing and shouting, and almost entirely men. A dart whizzes by as someone tosses a terribly errant throw. Still, people are friendly, and allow the three newcomers access to the big, burly and let's face it - fat - bartender. "Whaddya have, boys?"

Jaxain shrugs, never being picky about what he drinks, and looks to their guest. "Three of whatever he's having," he gestures to Squeaky with his head. "And some-o-those bacon chees tater-skins." Mmmmm tater skins. He looks at Bart, "Ya hungry, Red?"

Bartholemew bellies up to the bar, pulling his helmet off as he crosses the room over to it. Setting it on the bar in front of him, "Beer and a shot of whiskey for me." an amused chuckle and shake of his head to Jax when he places the order. "Don't mind him." he says to the bartender, still amused at his friend. "Give him the same."

Squeaky walks up behind the others, "Horace, place's busy! Bringin' in a whore parade or sum'tn?" He slaps the counter. "Whatever's on tap." Bartholemew receives a bottle of the house Beer-of-the-Day, with a shot of whiskey, as does Jaxain, who also receives a look. "Kid slow'r somethin'?" The price is seven credits apiece. After accepting his own mug - not entirely clean - Squeaky looks to those who've come with him. As he leans against the wooden bar, he asks, "So, what's it that I can do? Gotta job for us?"

Jaxain winks at the Bartender and grabs a fistful of nuts to munch on as he takes a sip of his beer. "Hey, good stuff!" he compliments the bartender. He's not a picky drinker. Looking at Squeaky, Jax says, "Not sure, but maybe. Mostly want some information for now, if that's alright. You remember a flyby you did a while back, somewhere up north, big crazy thing that was hard to navigate around or get a picture of?"

Bartholemew throws down plenty of money to pay the tab and a nice tip to boot, forty credits should do it. "Yeah, but he keeps me entertained." he chuckles to the bartender. "I got whatever else these two want, don't take their money, it ain't no good."

Horace gives Bart a knowing smile, and takes the credits before moving on to other customers. Squeaky thinks for a while. "How long ago? We're good, but not perfect. All over the place, too. Lots a big crazy things, you wouldn't believe it! Really, it's a more interesting job than people think." He takes a long pull on his open mug, then looks to Jaxain again, as Bartholemew remains quiet. "How long ago, and how far north? Like... up to the river? North of the river?"

Jaxain smiles at Squeaky and takes a few more drinks from his beer, and a sip of his whiskey. "Yeah? I'm just learning how to use a jet pack, myself. Never new flying was so fun!" He looks down at his waist and takes a moment to bring out a map and a photograph. "Ah, here ya go. This is the photo you took, I think?" He looks to the other man for confirmation, then unfolds the map and looks at it. "Somewheres around here, I think."

Squeaky looks at the map and the photo for a few seconds, then hands them back. "The job for the Council. Yeah. Couple hundred north of here. Why, you takin' 'em up on the offer or something?" He's drained his mug by now, and calls for another. Aerial photography is a thirsty business.

Jaxain shrugs, "I dunno, not sure yet. Seems awfully hard to get up there, and we don't have much to go by." He takes another sip of his drink. "You been visited by a lot of others about this, I take it?"

"Lotsa people come through, sure. I mean, that's some big money they're offering," Squeaky states firmly. He offers no comment on the difficulty of getting up there.

Jaxain snorts, getting another drink for himself and making sure Squeaky has one as well. "Yeah, lots of money for a supremely dangerous job that's probably just this side of impossible." He shrugs, "Still, been hired to get more info, so that's what I'm gonna do. Gotta get paid how we can, right?" He gives Squeaky a friendly elbow. "Anyway, so what did you tell the run of the mill question-askers?"

Squeaky holds on to his mug, raising it in question. "I told them that the Council had provided them with a photograph, and that if they wanted something more, we're available for hire. As we are to you, as well." Finally, he sips slightly from the mug of beer.

Jaxain nods, "Alright, how much would a better flyby and a marked up trail map cost?"

"Depends," Squeaky says. "What kind of flyby? Define 'better flyby' for me, and I can quote you a cost - not a final cost, Bill and Sonia do that. But a cost. We have all kinds of services available. As per trail maps? I'm afraid that we don't do that. We're aerial photography, not aerial cartography. But you saw the map." He shrugs and smirks a friendly grin at Jaxain - or Stone - with the advice, "Head north." Bartholemew is received with a hoisted mug of tap. "You're looking, too, right? Been looking at our stuff, too?"

Bartholemew listens to the pair a bit, but when finally addressed by Squeaky, he returns the raised glass with his own, "Sure am. Was curious if you remember where you took that picture at? Could you pinpoint it on a map?"

After listening to Bart, Squeaky takes a moment to think about it, then takes back the map. He pulls a pencil out of his sling bag and draws an area within the area given by Baptiste. "That's the best I can do right now. My instrumentation went bad, couldn't pinpoint myself until I got away from it. All of my regular gear was fine, but the tee-dubya stuff - which includes my bike's power source? Like it just got drained out from under me, so I didn't take a chance of going back to look on that run."

Bartholemew smiles with the man's ability to narrow down the search area. A look of curiosity when he explains the power source thing, "Besides the power drain, you notice anything else weird out there that night?"

Jaxain looks at Bart. "Hey Red, think it might be worth hiring them to take a second pass, maybe even take me along with him just so I can get a lay of the land?"

"Not night, daytime. That's why it was purely optical. But the sky, just... I almost expected to land in another dimension. Strange feeling. I have to admit, I've been curious about heading back. Not exactly gonna risk the boss's equipment myself though, am I? Hey, you want another beer?" Squeaky finishes off his second mug. At Jaxain's mention of a second pass, Squeaky reaches into his bag and pulls out a price list. "We do everything, but it costs. 'fraid I can't change the prices myself either; I just do the flying and snap the photos." The list is held out for someone to take, or both to examine.

Bartholemew tosses back the last of his own beer and waves for another round for the group as he takes the price list and giving a quick glance over it. "Mind if I keep this?" not really giving a choice really as he tucks it away. "Have you been out that way since then at all?"

Jaxain finishes his drink as well, giving squeaky a grin. "So all yer tw stuff went bunk but the normal stuff was fine, huh?" he raises an eyebrow. "That’s kinda cool."

Squeaky smiles as Bart keeps the list, his tribal tattoos jiggling as he waits for another beer. "No, please. Keep it. Paper's cheap and we're all practically s'posed to stand on street corners handing 'em out anyway," he says, laughing off as the mug arrives. "But no, I haven't been back. Bill's been keeping this one a little close for some reason. Probably just the tee-dubya stuff. I mean, his platforms start falling out of the sky, the business folds. Buuuuut..." the lanky man smiles and drinks, leaning his head sideways in enjoyment. "He's still a businessman, and we still do business. Yes, Stone. The normal gear was fine, well, except for the compass. Otherwise, it was fine. But everything that operated off of tee-dubya gear just faltered and drained. Partially why the images were so bad. Didn't have the fuel to make it around for a second pass at the rate is was draining, and didn't go out with the gear to catch it with any more detail with what I had. We do our best, but sometimes fuckups happen." He shrugs, and sips.

Bartholemew gives that knowing chuckle, "I hear ya. If I were to pay for another flyby, how long before the results can be gotten back to me? Also, has anyone else inquired about a flyby of the area through you folks yet?"

Jaxain nods. "And you mind if I tag along maybe, keep ya company."

Squeaky shakes his head. "No, no one else. Don't really know why. Guess they're just not bright enough, or maybe they have their own gear." He uses the mug as a pointer, at both men. "There are some pretty large groups heading out. They could easily have their own setup. But anyway... ah, well, it'd depend on what you ordered up. Takes a day or two to get the platform all geared, obviously longer the more stuff you stack on it. But easily within a week, or your money back." He grins, adding, "They do tell me quote that line." After taking a pull on his mug and listening to an apparent friend make a very rude joke about a rabbit and a three-legged goat, he asks, "You understand what all the stuff is? It's not like gun optics and stuff, not completely." Then Jaxain receives a quick negative. "Sorry, Stone. No room for another, otherwise I'd take ya up on a source of conversation."

Bartholemew nods, "How bout this, what I need is a landmark path to the object. Can be simple graphics, just easily identifiable landmarks to pinpoint the way, as well as a video of the trip from start to finish. The purpose of the video is to hopefully spot anyone or anything moving in that area. The resolution should be able to pick up things like ground troop movement. Does that sound doable?"

Jaxain raises his eyebrows, impressed. And waits for the answer.

"Oh. Wow. Well, right off the bat, we don't do video, pure and simple. Just stills from altitude." Squeaky runs a hand through his moppy hair, thinking. "Something like that? I mean... a continuous strip two-hundred miles long, give or take? That'd be.. well.. I'm not Bill or Sonia, but I'd just guess that 'outlandishly expensive' would be appropriate. I dunno, maybe for an extra charge - again, I'd have to ask - we could try to find something every fifty, sixty miles maybe? But really, that's not what we do, you're asking me to go out and find a target... not photograph a known, or at least almost known target." After clearing his throat, he says, "However, if you give me - us - an area, then some of that gear can tell ya just about anything you'd want to know in a five-by-five grid, right down to the count of hairs on a man's balls, day or night. Pretty cool stuff that we do, though yeah, it can be a little expensive." Jaxain is allowed to wander over and start chumming up with another possible information source, with Squeaky's attention on Bartholemew.

Bartholemew nods as he listens to the man explain. Takes a swallow of beer before replying, "By the sound of it, you've flown these parts quite a bit, am I right? You gotta know some visual landmarks that could be helpful in navigating the area, or maybe your boss might know. By looking at our map, and the landmarks already marked, can ya point out something, or maybe think of something along that line. I mean, ya do great work by the original photo, but really, the object itself is not as important as finding it. Once found I'll be able to see how many hairs on its balls first hand if I want." giving a chuckle to his slight joke.

Squeaky leans over to clap Bartholemew on the shoulder. "Okay. Thing is that the Missouri territory isn't horribly exciting. Ya got the Ozark Plateau, which has some neat stuff, right up until you hit the Osage River, assuming you've already passed the Gasconade. But then you drop into the Dissected Till Plains, which is just... flat and grassy forever. Some new guys get disoriented, fixated on the horizon, it's that damn flat. Of course, the Missouri breaks it up. There's not much. But I can give you something." He takes out his pencil and starts making a few marks. As he does so, he apologizes again. "Sorry, I'm just putting in the big ones. Ya, I know the area like the back of my hand, which would take too much time to scribble down."

Bartholemew smiles thankfully, "You're being more than helpful, I don't expect ya to teach me navigation or anything, just some clues that could help a guy out. Mind me askin why ya don't do video? I would think it could be quite useful, and a profitable product on your end. Wilk's puts out some excellent equipment for the purpose."

The lanky fellow hands the map back, apparently done with what he intends to do. "I don't know, really. Bill's just always been a fan of stills. Really a genius, investing in all this special gear." He frees a finger to waggle it at Bartholemew. "Very few other outfits have the advanced thermals, like he invested in. Guy develops everything himself, likes it to come in film emulsion. Of course, we back everything with digital." Squeaky takes a long pull and smiles. "You do what you love, right? Can't say I blame 'im. Business is good. Customers are satisfied. He makes a good living - all of us are paid well. I'm not going to complain!" After listening to another dirty joke, and laughing loudly at it, he asks, "You two a team, then? Goin' after the Council's goods? Braver than I am. Ballsier. Lotta competition out there. Federation's gotta be sending someone, I know of at least three groups headin' out from Kingsdale." He follows up another shake of his head with, "But hey, I'm just a pilot who snaps pictures. Ain't gonna grab a rifle and go for it myself."

Bartholemew shows some curious interest when other groups are mentioned, "Oh yeah? Anyone with a name? Might be good to hook up with a bigger squad, being it's just the two of us."

"Yeah, yeah. I mean, like I said, people're flooding out of here like rats trying to get to the thing. Some of 'em already left, some still gettin' their shit together." Squeaky suddenly looks a little bashful, as if he'd just insulted potential customers, and takes a second to compose himself. "But yeah, there's 'Blackeye' Susie, Red Paulus has a group -" he eyes another man surprisingly named 'Red' "- and of course, Gutz. I think he set out yesterday."

Bartholemew nods as the list of Merc groups are named off. Being in the business he tries to place the three names with a face from memory hopefully. A chuckle and shake of his head is given as he takes a swig of his beer and waves over the bartender for another shot with a raise of his glass. "Guess Gutz is outta the question," another chuckle as he now realizes the name too, "Looks like Black or Red. Which one do you think will payoff this roll?" chuckling some more.

Squeaky takes some time to lean up against a pool table. "Well, you could probably catch up with Gutz, he and his guys move slow enough. Big ass 'Borgs aren't real fast. But you'd have to find 'em. Paulus, he's a good guy. Basic group, not much special other than continuing to survive." He waggles a finger. "Now, 'Blackeye' Susie's an interesting one. Standin' group a mages who hire on sometimes if they need something else special. Like everything, ya got good and bad for everything. If they haven't changed, Gutz' got the biggest group - in numbers and size - Blackeye's got the smallest but weirdest. Pick yer poison, I guess, if you want to get involved." He hoists his mug and suggests, "They're all good enough people, but they're all in it for the money, too. Some of them are more psychologically stable than others. But you and your friend don't look like strangers to merc work. Wonder if the other major powers're gonna get involved."

Bartholemew nods idly along as he listens to the descriptions of the groups involved, just sipping on his beer. He leaves the shot sitting there for now, "Buncha Borgs shouldn't be too hard to find, they ain't really known for being stealthy." smiling with a silent chuckle, "So are you like exclusively with Bill's? Or have ya ever taken on side work?"

Squeaky chuckles. "Oh yeah, I'm with Bill. He's a good guy, good to his employees. Wouldn't be right to take out a side job on him. Like ah.. embezzling? Nah, that sounds too dramatic. But you know what I mean. You don't buttfuck a good employer, right?" A happy smile is covered over as he tilts his mug back. "But if you're interested, just talk with Mr. Stone about it. I'll be available it you want more info about our services. If not? Well, I wish you guys the best. Just the two of you headin' out? Man, picked a bitch of a winter to hunt for a jewel like that."

Bartholemew nods, "You can say that again. Well, I thank ya for your time an all that. Good luck out there, I know it can get rough." He drops another bit of credits on the bar for another round if Squeaky chooses to use it, plus a few extra. "Have a few on me." slams the shot sittin there, and gathers up his things, popping on his helmet, and heads for the door.

Squeaky toasts the man who gave him enough money to get drunk, or possibly get a hooker. Or responsibly store it away in a CD that earns a progressive 2% interest per year. Maps are still out, price lists are still out photographs are out. Words have been babbled. Now it's time for the man to return to the friends that he meets every day.