Feb 25 00:13:15 108 PA - Brief Briefings

From Chronicles

Feb 25 00:13:15 108 PA.

TRADEWINDS COFFEE SHOP

Mother Nature continues to bitch-slap southern Missouri this winter of 108 PA. Who would have thought that late February would still be this bad? Temperatures are well below freezing, snow continues to be piled high, and the winds are so bad that one can't even really determine which way they're coming from. The sleet that began to fall a few minutes ago only added to the fun. Thus it is that the little Tradewinds Coffee Shop is quite crowded, people enjoying its interior heating, if nothing else. Of course, being right off the Merchant's Plaza doesn't hurt - location, location, location. Most, if not all of the tables are in use, and the young, blue-skinned, multi-armed, teenage D-Bee girl who is always behind the coffee counter is running like mad to fill orders. One can only hope that someone else is on call to help in such emergencies. Gabriel is seated off to the right of the doorway, up against one of the insulated glass walls, with five separate mugs of coffee sitting in a tray, and two pastries of some kind. His light snow gear rests over the back of his chair. He looks bemused.

Vixen comes into the Tradewinds not quite as lightly clad. She has her normal compliment, but has her heavy combat armor on under the violet hued armored coat. With the helmet on, it makes for a cozy, if tightly enclosed way to travel. Even so, she has the coat closely wrapped and comes into the shop with a heavy stomp, liberating lingering snow from the boots. Though she steps aside before a pause to lift her hands and start working the helmet off, environmental seals released one after the other.

Another blast of winter air chills those by the door, and a heavily-garbed Sebastien plows through before firmly shutting the door behind him. Stomping snow off onto the tile entryway, he shakes out his navy blue jacket and shrugs it away, shivering as he's stuck behind the armored form of Vixen. His broad form might be seen easing left, and then a touch right, looking for a way around her, before resigning himself to rub his hands up his arms to wait.

Gabriel can't help but look up as the two quick rushes of air burst their way into the otherwise happily warm Tradewinds. His two acquaintances are noted, and he gazes at the extra mugs before him, perhaps considering something. Who knows. He goes back to blowing across the surface of his beverage.

Vixen doesn't take long, though once the helmet is off, she glances back towards Sebastien and offers a simple, "Hey." Though with the helmet off, it's clear she's had a long, if not interesting evening. Subtle signs of fatigue here and there. She won't loiter, moving inward with the helmet dangling from the fingers of one hand. And when she notes Gabriel's presence, she nods to him and turns, approaching his table. "Not usually much for coffee," she says casually, her helmet settled on the table.

"Salut," Sebastien replies cheerfully. There's an odd freshness about him, not quite matched by the look of him. He's been out running again. But in this company, it all blends into the damp musk that's mostly crushed under the sinful aroma permeating the chapel of the brewed bean. He tags along, giving the woman a playful look, before peering over her shoulder at Gabriel. "Mon Dieu, man. You will be awake for a week! At least they are not that fizzy drink you have such a keen interest in." He winks, before flashing Vixen a look. "I'm heading to the counter. What would you like? My treat."

The older man smiles, grins, then laughs and waves the two newcomers to the luckily empty seats at his table. "No, no. The girl behind the counter. She has a good heart, she's very sweet, but I've met smarter hedgehogs. I've been coming here for how long? She has yet to grasp the simple concept of, 'black coffee, please.' So she screws up, and I get them for free, and then she gives me free brownies. Like I said, she's sweet. Help yourselves," Gabriel says, pointing to the mugs. "They were free. Mocha, vanilla mixed with something, caramel and cream, and.. uh, she said, 'pepper' I don't know what that is." He glances then to Vixen and asks, "Going to or coming from combat? Or just an argument with Leo?"

"Environmental systems," Vixen says to Gabriel as she takes a seat. She nods casually towards Sebastien then and says, "Looks like it's covered. Thanks anyway." She sighs and says. "Armor works wonders, but I still hate wearing it so much. Claustrophobic as fuck.. good thing I'm not, but enough time in this thing may make me so." Casual complaints as she snags one of the cups, not seeming too picky about which. "Too much walking today."

Sebastien reaches over Vixen to grab at the 'pepper' cup, glancing between the two of them with a challenging expression on his face. "What? It's good!" He slides it before an empty chair and steps back to shake out his jacket, flapping it once and then a little shiver of a shake before draping it over the back of an unoccupied chair and perching himself before his drink. "Thank you, Gabriel," he replies, and muses, "but you're behind the times. Armor is adventurer chique! You are cool in the summer, warm in the winter, have no need of finding a restroom in a hurry, have water to drink so long as you've kept your filtering systems well-maintained, and --" he glances at Vixen with a wink, "nobody will know if you skip a shower. I've met people who live in these things, so much so that they get mold infections."

"Eh, thank you no," Gabriel says with an obviously amusingly stupid grin. "I'd like it if I never had to wear the damn stuff. Maybe I'll start a company that builds clothing that you wear like regular clothing, but can still take just as many hits from a plasma cannon. I'd wear that. Pepper. Really?" His eyes take in Sebastien with a shrug, then comments on the friendly insult that he'd previously allowed to slip. "Donovan's Fizz is the best drink in this whole city, my friend. Been walking too much today, Miss Vixen?" He points his chin at her briefly, then resumes blowing across his coffee. "Too fucking hot."

Vixen doesn't seem much concerned with what Seb drinks, though his words do get him a sidelong eyeing. "Practicality," she says simply before looking to Gabriel. "How is the explosives hunt going?" She then motions to herself and says. "You know. Ear to the ground. Can't do my sort of work in a truck. A little too loud." She doesn't tend to the cup immediately, instead taking some time to pull her gauntlets off. She wants some contact with the cup, obviously.

"They make it," Sebastien points out. "Triax sells some, and there are a few rigs you can wear under clothing, but..." He shrugs. "If you've seen them once, you know what to look for. Just like half the time you can look for boots and the style of pants and say, 'that man is concealing a gun.' Explosives hunt?"

The older man's face registers some mild surprise in the form of a quirked eyebrow that rapidly advances as she speaks of his explosives hunt. When he speaks, he begins hesitantly. "I.. have been looking. It seems like an explosive is an explosive, no matter what time you're in. Honestly? I'm sure that they're fantastic if you have some time to properly place one and bring down a bridge, or a wall or something. But not the best for what you want to do. It failed when they tried to kill Hitler with the Valkyrie attempt, and that was essentially a static position." Gabriel shrugs, looking curiously between his table companions.

Vixen nods to Sebastien. "Explosives." Then she considers Gabriel. "What would you suggest? I suppose it is a bit big, but big things fall over. If you know how to hit them right." A pause, then she notes, "I have gear like that. Real light protection. It's good. Like an insurance policy for that last little shot before you get the hell out of whatever mess you got into. Should get me a backup set just in case."

"They have mages back then?" Sebastien wonders. "There was one time, at the Gate. We had this rule; don't provoke more than you have to. Now, we could not stop creatures from stumbling through. Some did this intentionally, but I think others just disappeared and found themselves in our firing lanes. So, we just turned them around and marched them back through the gate. Another dimension is as good as dead, and it does not kill us. I was fourteen." He frowns, reaching to his chin to touch the edge of the scar that runs up his face. "A group of red-skinned aliens came through. Light armor, obviously technologically advanced. And back they went. No matter their advances, they were facing our static defenses and they are formidable. But one of them must have had a good look at his surroundings before he left, because an hour later explosives began appearing around us. I was hit and earned this." Sebastien taps his broken cheek, and smirks. "At least I was on a damage control team. Instead of running in to extricate someone else, they just put me on a gurney and ran me away. Saved my eye. Later, RSGS -- they weren't called that then, but same thing -- said a mage can teleport an object, even a fusion block, to a place he has seen before. When the portal changed he was out of range, but until then?" Sebastien shakes his head. "They only way to fight back wound have been to advance through the portal, and possibly be cut off forever."

"I didn't realize that we were being so open," Gabriel comments as Vixen speaks on the subject again. He looks to Sebastien, "We aren't talking about a massive attack on a fixed position using explosives. It's more fluid than that. Not that it isn't a good idea, but it has its place, and this is not one of them. At least, not as the currently designed idea goes." He holds a hand out to the woman across from him. "How large did they say the clearing was? And into the hill, too?"

"I'm tired and I don't feel like waiting," Vixen says. "Besides, I'm not being open." She looks at Sebastien and says, "You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?" She smirks faintly and lifts the cup to take a deep drink of her cup. "Options. If you can figure any, let me know." She then looks to Sebastien again and says, "I have no idea what you're talking about either, so I guess we're even there."

"Gabriel does," Sebastien replies. He quirks an eyebrow at Vixen, and shakes his head. "Non, I don't. Shall I leave? If you have some kind of business to discuss..?" His eyes flicker between the pair of them, mouth becoming a hard line. And then lifting the pepper drink, he takes a long sip and eyes them.

Gabriel is clearly nearly as confused about what Sebastien is going on about as Vixen is. But he at least seems to think that he got the gist of the man's tale. That man's tale is pretty useless to him, it's not like this first time around the block. However he still has to break off his train of thought to look at Vixen and ask, "Huh? You're tired and you don't feel like waiting?" His brow is furrowed. Either he completely missed something, Vixen is changing the subject, or she's talking to people whom don't appear to be there.

"Yeah. I could drag you off for a briefing, but you've told me enough that I don't have to,' Vixen says to him. She then considers Sebastien for a few moments before she notes to Gabriel, "I don't remember how big." She lifts her cup to take a long drink, sighing then. With it mostly emptied, she starts putting on her gauntlets again. "Maybe you can help Gabriel," she says to Sebastien. "He's tasked with finding out how to take down something big. Without letting on that outside forces are involved. Inside job, military complex. Not real easy." Yes, she is being careful about just what she says, details few.

"Huh," Sebastien utters. "Well, fair enough. It doesn't sound like something you want to tell to people Outside. But a word of advice, which is worth every credit you paid for it -- don't worry immediately on how. Start with why. Construct a story you can sell and work backwards. Think of the alibi as an onion, with every layer not designed to keep someone out, but to keep someone in. An unsecured munitions crate tipped and blew. How? Word from the supplier says that due to war cuts, they've had to change detonators to something less stable. Whatever. Make up your story first, then worry about how." He winks.

The older man smiles and nods to both. "Yes, yes, to both of you. I'm afraid that you, Miss Vixen, are thinking too much like a civilian. And you, Sebastien, are thinking too much like the military. As they say, 'therein lies the rub.' I've learned today what I need to, and I'll get on that information now. It's too bad that we know so little, though," Gabriel says looking at Vixen. "Our friends were not entirely helpful."

"We know enough," Vixen says. "For now. Maybe more soon enough." She gets her gauntlets back on and stands, considering Sebastien. "Alibis are easy, once you have the way." But I'm always open to suggestions. Though right now, I want to go home and sleep. More to do in the morning." She points at Gabriel lightly then and adds, "Keep me informed. Should get that meeting soon, then we might have more options. Or maybe not." She shrugs, then snags her helmet and turns. "Can't always trust anyone but yourself, you know. Later boys," She starts off, her helmet drawn up to settle it on carefully.

"Shower!" Sebastien calls after Vixen. "Don't forget the mold!" He grins up at the woman, lifting an arm to pantomime scrubbing as she slips away. He flashes Gabriel a smirk then, and adds, "There's the rub. You shan't take such liberties with the bard, mon ami. Not around me." He gives the man a steady look.

Gabriel raises his hand to acknowledge Vixen's departure. "Stay safe, Miss Vixen. Oh, and warm!" He grins, though she may not be able to see it. To Sebastien he offers a deliberately exaggerated roll of his eyes. "My apologies if the nuns of Kentucky Appalachia didn't raise us with a perfect classical education."

Sebastien leans back, lifting his drink. "Save the hayseed routine. So. Your current work, that you want to keep secret. But your expedition? The one I deemed a fool's errand, you agreed, and then made yourself the fool anyhow? Tell me! What was it you found out there, cut off from resupply and facing the unknown?"

The older man grins, shark-like. "Hey, you're the one who calls himself a knight. I'm just a guy trying to take care of people who can't protect themselves. I may be a fool, but which one of us is more true to his mission statement?" Gabriel exaggerates an eyebrow lift. "We found very little, because the non-military fools, who wouldn't listen to Erica and I, who are military, were the ones who were listened to. My personal opinion is that we found shit. One village we were taken to, it was fine. One village we were taken to, it had been smashed by what the Coalition soldiers there - the few living ones - described as bastards from Tolkeen. Then, somewhere in there Miss Valeriya, Bennet and, ah, the other guy.. Bernard, something like that, mentioned 'mystic knights.' That made them happy, we came home, boom. Erica and I were - and remain - pissed. It wasn't recon. It was an aimless wandering by idiots." Gabriel's emotions grow more angry as he speaks, though it's still perfectly within the realm of friendly conversation. "So I've been at the Library, looking into mystic knights and blowing huge sums of money on things I may never need. Wanna come?" He sticks his tongue out at the suggestion.

Sebastien seems blithely sanguine about being called out by the man, just smirking back at Gabriel. "Right," he utters softly. "Well, someone claiming to be a 'knight' and doing this sort of thing has to be stopped. Bad publicity, you understand. Alors oui, I would like to participate. I'll admit, I'm not familiar with that term. I think Katsumi was, once upon a time, and she's from New York. Out East. That's all I know. What have you been buying?"

Gabriel smiles and winks as he gets just the tiny rise out of his friend. "Gotcha. Finally. So, anyway, like I said I've been spending time at the Library, even wandering around the Magic District. Seems these 'mystic knights' - if that's what they are - are really something called a Mystic Knight. They originated in the Federation of Magic -" he stops to point a finger very vaguely in the direction of that zone "- as some kind of magician. Like a combat-oriented mage. In fact." The sentence stops, he looks down.. drink some coffee, then looks up again. "From what I've read and heard, they're basically the anti-you. Take a picture of a cyber-knight, develop the negative, bring it to life. Except they use more magic. They say that magic doesn't even harm them. You have to actually hit them with physical attacks. Hence my spending money, Erica pretty much pulling out of the whole operation, and as far as I know, Bernard being totally useless, Miss Valeriya only slightly less-so." Gabriel stares unhappily into his mug. "Honestly, I'm not sure what to do. Granted, no one has gathered after-the-fact, but it sounds like at this point *I* am the one best outfitted to handle the problem. Ironic, huh? But I can't go alone, that's for damn sure."

"Mages," Sebastien mutters, and shakes his head. "Parfait. You know, with a simple spell, energy does not harm them? Oh, not all of them know this spell, but there are cheap enough devices to cloak yourself in such invulnerability. I've thought of buying one." Sebastien shrugs, and adds, "For a mage, they have typically limited offensive abilities. Only so much energy to go around, yes? But they can restrict your movements. Nets and barriers. And they have seemingly limitless defense. You need jet packs to stay clear of the worst of it, ranged attacks. Slug throwers. I could do well with swords, if I could meet one there."

"Exactly. I bought one of those NTI pieces of shit the other day, not because I wanted it, or thought it was good, but because it was the only rifle that does enough damage to be worry carrying." Gabriel holds out a hand. "Way I see it though, from what I've learned, they ride into battle with essentially common armor. Fairly light, and not even EBA. So gas canisters would work, that's my best plan as an area weapon, so long as someone like you, right in their face, was in an environmental suit. Whaddya say? Want to tag along with a bunch of people who are too hyped up on their own abilities to see straight, trusting in a man who has proven to be less than trustworthy and almost incapable of answering the simplest of questions?"

Sebastien looks back, sighing, and he dips his head at that. "Really?" he wonders, peering up over his coffee at Gabriel. "That's all you got? I thought this was going to be hard." He shrugs, pondering. "I can use a shotgun, a sword, a bow. And I don't really have the money to invest in a lot of extra equipment. Listen, if these guys play their cards right? We lose. Period. They separate us, control us, take us down individually. The only way this works is if I can get that close, as you say. And if we can gas and blind them. And perhaps we even take a few from long range, soften them up. Otherwise, I'm not sure how this could work."

"I have long long-range covered. I can give you some accurate sniper shots, and put some heavy bursts on target. Made the modifications myself. No grenades though. Need to be frag. My plasmas wouldn't do a damn thing. I'm trying to pull Erica back in -" those listening closely to Gabriel may notice that the only woman in this town who doesn't get 'miss' is Erica "- because she has the air support. Dropping gas, frags, things like that. In fact, I suggested that she use the speed and surprise to do a simple thing like fly in with my roll of duct tape, slap it over their optics and fly off. Damn stuff is hard to get off when you're in a hurry, and I have to figure that it'd be even harder wearing armor. Tends to make your fingers bulky and non-sensitive, no?" Gabriel sips at his coffee, waiting for a response.

"High explosive," Sebastien corrects. "But oui. I wonder if I should bring Sara at all. She would be as vulnerable as anyone else on the ground, but if I could get in close would allow me a better angle of attack. With a jet pack I could advance more quickly, and with less vulnerability, but I could not sword fight from the air." He laughs, shaking his head. "It conjures a fun image, but I am nowhere near this good! My old armor was fitted to carry a half dozen grenades. The new one is not so well equipped yet. I have only just paid it off."

Gabriel shakes his head, not in disagreement, but in thought. "I don't know if HE (it comes out as 'aich-ee') grenades would work. Like I said, they say only physical attacks. I don't know if that counts or not. I mean, sure, you have the blast wave, but it isn't direct physical contact. I honestly don't know. But can't you ride in on Sara, two swords slashing, hooves kicking?" He then sets his mug down and points across the table. "The problem is that fucking one-hundred pound weight limit. Christ, when I was with the Raiders, going on a LRRP (which comes out as "lurp") a one-hundred pound pack was common. I don't like this Bennet guy. Half a mind to plug him as soon as he brings us back - assuming that he brings us back and doesn't turn out to be some interested party interested in getting rid of the Knights and taking power for himself without anyone knowing. I've considered that."

Sebastien blinks. "One hundred pounds? As in, total gear per person? But that's ..." He frowns. "I think my armor and jet pack are half of that already. Then there is the matter of a pair of swords, energy clips, food, a tent, bedroll, first aid, and God forbid a shotgun and ammunition!" He leans back, tilting his head to the right. "If you're worried of this, we should get a reader to view him. See if he lies."

Gabriel chuckles quickly. "You know, I'm afraid I hadn't even thought of that. My day, you wanted to make sure that someone was being honest, it came down to psychology, tailing him, undercover work. Of course, if it was your enemy, there were more uncomfortable ways to do it. From sleep deprivation to.. well, other methods." He shies away from the subject and glances out the window. "We should bring someone in. I don't trust Bennet any farther than I could throw him. So, about six or seven feet, more, if I got a running start." He grins widely at the twist of cliche into humor.

"Alright," Sebastien agrees. "So, I know a woman. Isabeau. I think she could see the right of this. I'm afraid my own talents are a bit more," he muses, eyes up. "physical. Alors. I'll get the girl involved. What is our timetable with monsieur Bennet? How long do I have to set up for whatever it is we are to do?"

With arms outstretched, Gabriel shrugs elaborately. "Who knows? I haven't heard a damn thing from anyone since we got back, save for Miss Valeriya threatening me. You'll love this story," Gabriel says, pointing across the table. "We're heading into the burnt out village, and Miss Valeriya starts cussing out Erica for pointing out what needed to be pointed out in a military sense. I told the woman to shut the fuck up unless she had something useful to contribute. If you know her, you might imagine that she didn't take it well - but she did shut the fuck up, and got with the program for the time. Anyway, I was at the gym a few nights ago, she threatened me, I told her to fuck off, completely. What I thought of her combat skills and yes, her as a person." The man smiles ironically. "Then promised that I would never, under any circumstances, seek her out as part of a team. Just so you're up on current events. Woman's a stone-headed bitch."

"A deadly one!" Sebastien replies, brow furrowing. He leans over his cup, swirling the contents. "So you've lost Erica. Now you've alienated your magical support. Listen; this stems, I think, from a lack of command structure. You have a bunch of talented amateurs. Myself included! I was at best a corporal, and really just a basic medic. Start a military company. I'd do it, but people like you more than they like me. Get some training in. Correct movement, ways to cover one another, that sort of thing. When the time comes, they'll not only know where to be, but why they're there."

"Actually, I'm a little ahead of you, Seb. I am looking into starting a genuine, professional company. Spoke to Erica about it once, she's quite competent. Get someone like you involved, I might turn you into a soldier." Gabriel winks in a friendly manner. "Erica's probably out, and I didn't kick out Miss Valeriya. I think she was already chickening, I was just a convenient excuse to save face. Maybe she shows though, because she's obviously just in things for the money, no moral value whatsoever. But yeah, I need a company, and the thing is it needs a seed of people who will be listened to. Meaning someone like Erica and someone like you along side. You might not be trained in the proper tactics yet, but you are trained military, you understand command structure, and frankly - people know who you are. That's another one of Erica's benefits, too." He throws up his hands. "Still, that's a long-term thing, doing nothing to help us with the problem right now. I wanted to stay and watch their movements, but *no* the magic users wanted to go home. Assholes."

"So go!" Sebastien says, and laughs. "*I'll* go. I have a jet pack. I even have a CS energy tank, which could probably double its range. Why must we dance to the beat of his drum? This mission is not for the benefit of Bennet any more, oui? C'est pour nous." Sebastien tilts his head and stands then, lifting his pepper drink for one last gulp before dropping the empty-sounding husk on the table. "Find the coordinates, I'll fly out. Take a look. I may be unsubtle, but with enough magnification perhaps I could get home intact."

Gabriel smiles and sets his mug down. "You *find* Bennet and ask him what the coordinates are. I got fucking whisped away by magic. Hell, I can't even tell you for certain that we were in Iowa. That's just what we were told. You take care, Seb. Not only are those Knights out there, but the Coalition has obviously stepped up overflights for recon. Don't get yourself caught" He nods toward the door. "Don't let your nuts freeze and land in the snow, either. Saw it happen to a guy once. He only found one." Wink.

Sebastien laughs at Gabriel, and nods, "With that idea you planted in Monique's ear, churning round and round, perhaps I'm better off without them! Au revoir Gabriel. I'll see what I can find." He lifts a hand and grabs his jacket, slinging it over his shoulders as he digs out a tip for the four-armed child on his way out the door.