Nov 08 22:02:49 109 PA - The Great Raid

From Chronicles

Nov 08 22:02:49 109 PA.

LANDING STRIP

An early morning on a Friday can be a great time to outfit yourself for unusual missions. The skies are mostly empty, but every now and then a little drizzle comes past. In a place somewhat hidden behind Uncommon Mechanics can be found a hovertruck, powered down and resting on its struts. Gabriel is in a jumpsuit, along with another man who is clearly an employee of his. With both spray cans and copious amounts of brush strokes and buckets, they're created a reasonable facsimile of something resembling the detailing of a Coalition vehicle. At least, something that might hold up from a distance. The old man taps the cab with his fist. "Hey, Thomas! See if you can't get Lisa on the comm for the last hack she did. Thanks." The truck's bed has been loaded with a few closed, large steel boxes.

Early morning is a good time to wake people up, too. Jac'lyn might've been doing that, since she's walking back from the firing range from some early practice. There's a rifle carried on her shoulder that she probably can't sling vertically. The barrel alone is almost as tall as she is.

Gabriel waves to the monocular woman using a drying paint brush. "Morning, Jac'lyn. You really did splurge, didn't you? What is that?" He nods toward the rifle. His head twitches silent for a moment, then he returns to the conversation. "All ready to go out and kill something, but no one to kill?"

"Morning. Like my new toy?" Jac'lyn pats the stock. "Supposed to hole body armor at two thousand yards. Only took a couple to get a feel for it and zeroed, so haven't confirmed all the hype." She spies the vehicle and cocks brows. "You taking a trip to Chi-Town?"

"Nice toy," Gabriel states, then pats the truck. "Not Chi-Town, no. I'd like to just head straight north, catch a river as a highway, and end up in Minnesota. Which means of course, crossing Coalition territory. Thus my magnificent still life." His feet step back, and his arms go wide, unveiling the masterpiece. "Won't fool a blind man up close, but anything is better than nothing."

Jac'lyn smirks. Or is it a grin? "Going anywhere from here is Coalition dirt, pretty much." The truck gets eyed again and studied. "Not bad. Might want to touch up the skull some. Their picky on those. Why so far north? Not much up there."

Gabriel looks at the skull for a while, then adds a few strokes of black. "Better?" he asks, head turned to look at Jac'lyn. "There's a smoking crater of Tolkeen up there, and a bunch of people who've already been maimed, who are scheduled to be mutilated. I wouldn't bat an eye or shed a tear if someone told me that their leadership was dead. They've proven to be no-good double-crossing bastards. But much like Nazi Germany?" A shrug is offered. "The general populace usually doesn't kowtow and drag the same line. So some of us are going up to one spot to rescue these guys."

"What?" Jac'lyn blinks, then her eye narrows to a pinpoint. "You're off to go break out a bunch of demon-loving magic-flinging psychos?! Hope they're paying you a truckfull of creds."

"They are, actually. But while they might be magic-flinging, I'd debate the demon-loving psycho part," Gabriel says evenly. "These people weren't soldiers. They didn't ever see the battlefield. Just tried to survive in a besieged city and are now up for further mutilation. If you want to accuse their leadership? I'll join you. But there are times when people can be besieged by their own government as they are by who their leaders are calling the enemy."

Jac'lyn's eye relaxes a little. "Oh. Civvies. Yeah, sucks to be them. Not surprised the Coalition wants to chop them all up after what happened the last time." She shrugs, moving the rifle some. "Not saying it's right, but can't blame them for wanting to. What are they paying, anyway? Or is that privileged?"

Gabriel stops to consider Jac'lyn for a moment, his face somewhat impassive. Eventually, "Hundred-grand plus a quarter, for anyone who survives. Job is to get to the region, find the camp, bust out a hundred prisoners and get them to a safe enough location. The clients will be bringing in transport once they're away. I've arranged a distraction to hopefully keep people off us on the way back." He pats the cab. "If you could drive for us, that'd be something."

"You say that like survival is unlikely." Alex's speakers intone over its hoverjets as it descends into the conversation. A nod is given to Gabriel before its torso turns to Jac'lyn to look to be looking at her.

"So..." Jac'lyn looks from him to the truck. "You're hunting down a military prison camp, breaking out a hundred people, and then carting them off to a rally point... in that?" She looks back to the old guy and smirks. "No wonder you're looking for a good driver."

Putting his painting gear away with a few words exchanged between himself and Thomas, Gabriel says to Alex, "Not unlikely, no. I just like to be realistic, and not stroke everyone to make them feel good. Do that, and people stop paying attention to surviving." A definitive shrug is given, and then a small hemispherical piece of electronic equipment is removed from a pouch, roughly the size of a cantaloupe. "Not really a military prison camp, no. I don't think they'd guard a bunch of worn down, de-maged mages with crack troops and armored walls. Of course, they're not going to roll out a red carpet, either. Give me a moment while I align this." With a few flicks of various buttons and switches, his attention is momentarily on the instrument. "If you want to sign on as driver? I'd appreciate that, sure."

Alex shrugs at the graphic explanation and turns from the soldier girl to regard Gabriel's handiwork. "Wasn’t Halloween last week?" The mecha asks with a gesture to the paint job.

Jac'lyn turns an eye to the robotic borg thing and asks, "What's wrong with a little challenge? Makes things more interesting." Gabriel gets a nod. "Hundred and a quarter to drive? Sure. Not going to turn that down. And if the finger-diddlers had their fingers lopped off, I'm not worried about them. When do we leave?"

Gabriel looks a fairly pleased at having a new driver, taking a moment to pat Thomas on the shoulder and whisper something in his ear. A nod is given and the other man moves off to where some other crates are stacked. "We leave as soon as everyone gets here. We're waiting on three right now. One of them being Rasputin, a finger-diddler whom you know." Looking back to Alex, he actually sounds surprised. "We still do Halloween? Let me guess, these days when you dress up as Frankenstein, you actually become Frankenstein. But are you actually denying the fact that this is a piece of moving vehicular fine art? Look, I signed it and everything." Indeed, in tiny, tiny but beautiful cursive lettering, 'Kilroy was here.'

Alex can only shrug again at the claim. "I've seen worse claims of art. And that does appear to be what this purely is. No Coalition force would believe it." The robot comments with a shake of its head.

"Here I thought he was just a cook..." Jac'lyn files that away for later. "Things don't need to dress up to look scary around here. And the truck isn't -that- bad." She looks at Alex, "Not great, but it isn't horrible. It might fool some, if we're moving fast enough."

"I know, it won't fool anyone. But even just the tiny edge of having a grunt look at it from a distance and ask, 'That's not us, is it?' Compared to 'Hey, that's not us!' is better than nothing." Gabriel pats the cab again. "Any advantage you can get, no matter how small, is a benefit. And with that? Jac'lyn, give me a hand. The case on the right is full of camo nets. We're going to just hang 'em off the sides for a while. It won't hide us, and it's not meant that way. But it's better than people here in the city and region wondering what the fuck a bunch of assholes are doing driving around in a painted truck." That said, he moves to remove some netting and goes about attaching it to the few hook points provided.

"Well unless were going through a checkpoint, they will know who we are long before they see us. Remember what I told you, radar and psychics. Any patrol we are likely to encounter is likely to have already spotted us via radar. And when the spot an unknown on radar a quick radio transmission is all it takes to confirm a friend. You can't confirm you are a friend, making this a big sign saying 'Shoot me!'"

Jac'lyn heads over to grab another piece of net to start hanging it. "If we're running in a riverbed or through forest, radar's not a problem. But psychics? Seriously? A pair of eyeballs could pick us out before any mind phreaking. Still, the flying one's got a point. Might be just as good to have a beat up truck with no paint."

"Yes, you said that if we came close to a checkpoint. I'm not dumb enough to do that. Or at least, I'd like to think I'm not," Gabriel replies with a chuckle. "My intention is to take the highway north until we hit the Missouri, then just use the river as a highway up to Omaha and maybe Sioux city, if I can figure out the details. My map reading isn't quite there yet, but otherwise I'm not bad. Particularly using the river like that. So we should look like some random group of mercenaries in a weird truck headed toward Wilk's and hopefully avoid the majority of interested Coalition patrols. After that, it'll be a matter of following these topos and such to get us into the region, and go from there. At least, that's the initial plan." He gives Jac'lyn a knowing shrug. "Yeah. I'm trying to avoid interested Coalition psychics. As far as the paint? Well, weird random merc groups do weird and random things." Grinning, he goes back to work hanging camouflage netting. Currently, there is hovertruck settled on the ground behind Uncommon Mechanics. It has been painted in a poor facsimile of Coalition markings, and is loaded with a number of crates. Gabriel and Jac'lyn are busy working on it, while Alex hovers nearby. Gabriel's man Thomas has moved to some other gear, going over it to ensure that things are the way they aught to be. It's a nice morning.

"Weird merc groups like Coalition hunters," Alex adds before letting the topic drop. "Speaking of probably conflict, did we get smoke grenades or should I zip over to buy some while we wait for the others?"

Rasputin comes walking onto the landing strip business district of Kingsdale. He is out of the usual, as he is wearing his combat armor. His helmet is off for now, but he has his usual cane and is walking with it briskly. The only thing which is different from his usual combat dress, is today he has two shotguns crossed over his back.

Gabriel looks up to Alex, saying, "Smoke grenades might be great for infantry, but if the Skelebots or anyone else has an IR capability, it won't do a damn thing. But to answer your question, yes, I do have smoke grenades. Mostly I loaded up with Blinders. Twenty that I'll split between anyone who can throw 'em or drop them far enough. Flash-bangs for the infantry up close." As Rasputin comes into view, he lifts a hand from what he's doing to wave, the simple black jumpsuit that he's wearing right now allowing a good range of movement. "Hello!" There is currently a cluster of people behind Uncommon Mechanics working on an increasingly strange-looking hovertruck which at the moment is resting on the ground. Gabriel and Jac'lyn are working with some netting, and Alex hovers nearby, critiquing a Coaltion-ish paint job. Thomas is over to the side, locking some metal boxes.

"Don't forget the large hungry lizards," Jac'lyn reminds while she's finishing up her side of the truck, "Monsters with twenty tentacle things, and the ones that shrug off fusion bombs. Why don't we just worry about all that when it shows up?"

Bob is here! Or at least, he's approaching. He looks almost exactly the same as he usually does, the only difference being that he has switched into camouflage fatigues and is carrying a ghillie suit over one arm. "Hello." He says, when he's in range. He seems pretty lightly armed -- a spear slung across his back and a pistol strapped to his thigh. "I'd still feel better with something a little bit heavier to use." He says, with a grunt. "Worried that I'm going to be useless and not put out enough damage."

Alex nods to the assessment of infrared. "If you have a thermal signature, yep." It agrees before opening the grenade storage it'd shown Gabriel before. "I have ten Blinders, and can't see using more in a single engagement." It confirms before looking at the newcomers with a wave. "Welcome short one, and competitors brand." It greets jokingly to both.

It isn't too long before Sage ends up making her way towards the prearranged gathering point for this particular outing. She appears to be well-equipped for the outing, including a spare weapon or two that she may or may not carry around depending on how things go. "Hey guys." She greets them simply as she comes.

Rasputin clicks up and nods to everyone, he says soft, "Da, hello again bucket head, who can net eat mink good foods." He grins and tugs his beard. He says nothing else, just slips his walking cane into a small loop on his bandoleer for safe keeping.

Gabriel moves off to help Thomas load the last of the gear, then his man departs after offering good wishes to everyone. Gabriel climbs onto the truck's bed, a nice Triax-B Hover model and cracks open one of the cases to reveal his armor and jet pack. As he begins to don them, he welcomes all who have arrived. "Okay, good to see everyone. We can transfer around grenades as we go. Bob, that crate -" he points "- has a locally build pulse rifle and a wilderness model. Both have been tricked out, slightly modded for me. Just pick the one you prefer. Right now? We all just want to look like some random merc group. The plan is to head north on the highway to the Missouri, then take the river up to Omaha or farther. Looks like we're a bunch of normal folk heading for Wilk's. After that? More complicated, but we'll work on it." He waves like a butler. "Cab is open for those who want. Jac'lyn has signed on as a driver, so Thomas will be off the job. Any questions before we fire up?" Clearly, the man is aching to get going.

Bob emits a 'hmm' sort of sound, thinking about this long and hard. He vaults into the back of the truck and selects the pulse rifle and the ammunition for it. "You'd said something about Blinders, if I recall. Wouldn't mind holding a couple of those." As he speaks, he begins to put the ghillie suit on. It's a long process to get right, but at least that is going to make him not quite so obviously mirror-reflective. "Anyway, I don't mind riding outside." A glance over his shoulder at Alex. "It's not my fault technology progresses. How does it feel to be obsolete?" There is a grin when he says it, though. "Do we have a set plan for any encounters and the like?"

Jac'lyn opens up the cab to slide her long rifle under the seats. "We'll be moving fast and low," she calls out, "So if you need to puke, make sure it's over the side. I need to grab my gear, but that'll just take a second. After that, all I need's somebody to help point the way." She walks back to storage to pick up her other toys.

Alex chuckles at Bob and Rasputin's respective replies. "And don’t think I don’t resent it. I never got the chance to enjoy my last meal. Not that military base cafeteria fare is any luxury." It notes to Rasputin with a nod. "There's a saying for the comparison to the New Age and the Golden Age. They don’t make em like they used to." It points out to Bob before nodding to Gabriel. "All systems are nominal and ready to go."

Sage moves to start getting her gear and herself settled into the cab of the vehicle. "Well, I'd have questions if we had any answers to our hypotheticals from earlier." She comments, "Otherwise, it seems it'll be our usual muddling along it seems." She adds with a little humour in her tone.

It is obvious that Rasputin is packing a bit lighter than on the expeditions that he runs. He has his usual armor, and kit. He does have his usual rucksack and a duffel bag with some additional equipment in it though. He tosses it into the back of the truck with easy, then buttons up his helmet onto his armor, and finally with a bit more difficulty he climbs into the back of the truck. He says with a small tin sound from the broadcast speaker, "Didnk someone says dhey needed weapons?"

Gabriel chuckles lightly at Sage's comment. Partly because it's funny, and partly because it's not. "I should have asked you to see the future? Guess I let everybody down on that one. As far as a plan, I would suggest that Alex make an initial flyby recon. He can pass faster and note more than we can, I think. Then we can set for what we need to. But the ideal plan?" He plops his helmet in place, the faceplate still raised. "Just keep going and discourage anyone from following. Search and rescue this time out, not search and destroy. If you and Rasputin have your own special means? Then... by all means!" A smile of minor wordplay is likely hidden, if only due to the shading effects of the headpiece. Pointing to Bob, "Bob's looking for something, yeah, Rasputin. Got the pulse rifle I brought along, but if you have something heavier, I know he'd prefer it." He looks back up, eagerly awaiting Jac'lyn's return.

It doesn't take Jac'lyn long to return. She's suited up when she does, now wearing her pistols and blades on the outside. There's a rifle and a combat shotgun slung, along with some grenades. She has plenty of weapons. Just not any spares to really share. "Time to mount up..?" It's half order and half question while she slips into the cab.

Bob glances to Rasputin. He really does look odd now, about halfway into the ghillie suit -- it covering his legs and arms but not his torso yet. "Hrm?" He asks Gabriel. Then he turns his head towards the short Russian. "Ah, hello. Yes, I was looking for something a bit more damaging if possible. Was concerned about my effectiveness." The silver skinned man does smile though. "Good to meet you, by the way. If you are whom I think you are, I've heard many things. All good though, worry not!"

Alex hovers idly as he waits fro all the organics to get their shit together. Can't blame them, they don’t have everything built in.

Sage makes a faint nose to Gabriel's comment, "Since it shows multiple possibilities... I imagine I'd have seen anything from horrible death to ridiculous success." She points out, "So, I guess we don't have to give up just yet." She adds, before pausing as the comment about weapons come up. "I have an L-20 that I may be able to lend. Just keep it on triple-pulse and it has a good punch." She offers.

Rasputin opens his duffel bag and looks into it, he says to no one in particular, "Net, mink havink back-up NG-45LP and NTI-01A Carnivore rifles. And suit of homemade dino hide armor. If peoples are needink to borrow, mink would be happies to loan. Justtink payink me back for use of da ammo or damages to hides." He looks up and smiles to the silver man, "Did you wantink one of dhose?"

Gabriel makes a deliberate attempt to give Sage a wink and a smile to show that he's really only joking, waiting to get going to things that he can't predict. He even says as much, with the Kentucky in him rolling more thickly into his voice. He grabs his long energy rifle and pops into the cab next to Jac'lyn - a tight fit. 'That's what she said.' Looking to the one-eyed gal, "Whenever everyone's aboard, fire it up. I'll take care of navigating." A few small instruments are brought out and laid on the dash, along with a very nice set of topographic maps.

"Yessir," Jac'lyn fires up first, then will check that everyone's hanging on before taking off. "I'll try not to make it too bumpy for anybody."

Bob waves his ghillie-suited hand at Gabriel and Rasputin both. "Neither offer any special advantage over the pulse rifle that Gabriel loaned me. I'll stick with that. Your offers are both appreciated though!" He's cheerful enough, this silver person who is now hidden behind the strips of Mylar fabric that make up the ghillie suit. He sits down in the truck's cargo area.

Everyone about to take off Alex pulls its energy lance from his shoulder to hold in one of its human arms. In its grapple arm (the one that looks like one of those toy grabbing games, industrial sized) it places one grenade. And in its bulky shovel hand another as it hovers in the lead of the truck.

Sage gets into a suitable position within the vehicle, nodding briefly to the decline of the offer. "No problem." She replies simply, "I think I'm ready." She adds once she's settled onto her selected spot on the vehicle.

Rasputin is already in the back of the hover truck, sitting next to his duffel bag which is almost... OK, it is taller than him. He zips up the bag, and says, "Da, OK. Everyone knowink, dhat dhey are dhere if needink." He puts his back into a corner of the railing and the back of the cab, "Oh, and mink would be suggestink everyone holdink on. Jac'lyn dis, da..." He pauses and says with a chuckle and a small bit of foreboding, "Aggressive drivers, da."

"Wagons ho," Gabriel says, pointing west. "Just hit the highway and go north as fast as we can go. *Reasonably* of course. No need to spin out and hit a tree or get into a head-on collision with someone on a Fury Beetle." He looks out the window to the floating Alex, and rather than trying to scream over both his jets and the truck's, uses the radio. "Alex, is there any way that you can.. isolate and secure a frequency for us all to use?"

MISSOURI WILDERNESS

Jac'lyn jumps the truck up off the ground to a decent three feet and then pegs the accelerator. Once they're clear of the outer wall, it's easy to start gaining speed. Rough roads don't hurt hover vehicles, and there's plenty of side clearance. Even passing another vehicle, there's always several inches, minimum. "Here we go."

Bob appears to not be in any special hurry or the like, sitting in the back of the hovertruck as he is. Instead, he's busy checking over the loaned pulse rifle. It's not that he doesn't trust Gabriel or doesn't assume that the weapon is in top condition, it's just that when someone hands you a firearm to take into a combat situation you really want to make sure that it is in good working order. This will occupy him for some time.

If anyone feels Jac'lyn's driving is two casual, they may with to consider Alex's. The robot is clearly capable of speeds that far outmatch the hover truck. So in lieu of leaving everyone behind the mecha establishes an orbit around the traveling group. 2000 feet out just below the tree line, establishing an observed perimeter covering nearly a mile around the truck as it travels.

While Sage may keep track of her weapons, she can't help but keep some of her attention to her surroundings. There have been enough trips that have gone a little awry with unrelated difficulties. "Hopefully we'll be equally interested in going on our ways." She comments simply.

Rasputin tust sits in his corner, then asks, "Didn't Gabriel," he says addressing Bob, "Make sure to be loanink you a few extra E-Clips?" He points to his bag, "Mink havink a few extra of dhose as well, if you are needink dhem." He seems to want to make sure everyone is well equipped, "Anddink makink sure to grab a few grenade, just in case da." He has unslung his cane and is holding it on his lap for the moment.

Gabriel jumps when Jac'lyn jumps the truck, but manages to hold his tongue until they make it onto the poor excuse for a highway. "Sure isn't the Interstate," he mumbles over the radio. "Jac'lyn, you can probably slow down. We're not in *that* much of a hurry." Clearly he has to fight the urge to physically move his body away from oncoming traffic, as if that would help. Speaking once more into the radio, he confirms that yes, there's a boatload of eclips in one of the trunks, for anyone who needs them. Looking in the trunks would possibly look like man going to war. Which might be appropriate. Then, to ask the giant floating killer robot again, "Alex, is there anything that you can do to secure a local radio line? Keep it from being scrambled or listened in on or something? I'm not really an expert even in what to ask, obviously."

"Just wanted to get us moving," Jac'lyn isn't going all out. "Not racing, but I'm not going to putter along slower than I can jog, either." He keeps her eye on the road ahead, even if there isn't anything like traffic.

Bob glances at Rasputin. Hmm, the accent. "Do you know Pavel?" He asks to the short Russian. He then smiles at him. "I am all right for E-Clips. It is the one thing that I have in abundance." He's having to speak loudly over the noise of the hoverfans and the bumping to and fro of the vehicle. "I keep thinking I should get Pavel to teach me . . what is it? Brussian or whatever? It feels like half of Kingsdale is like you!"

"While I'm sure my systems have the capability, I do not possess the skills to do that no. I was a robot technician. Not a communications technician." Alex answers over the radio, its orbit through the surrounding scenery making vocal replies impossible.

Sage chuckles faintly as she hears the comment about Pavel and the language. "There does seem to be a number of them around." She agrees, before glancing towards the front part of the truck. "And, as long as we're moving safely enough, I don't think you need to worry, Gabriel."

Rasputin nods to the answer of E-Clips and smiles, he replies, "Dis Russian, pure Russian. And while Little Russia dis small community, we are out goink peoples. Dhough, Pavel dis from Mother Russia muchink more recently dhan dhose of us dwhich who are livink in Little Russia." He nods to Sage and smiles, "Sage, dis been long time good to be seeink you," He frowns on the inside of his helmet, "You know, mink still owink you weddink gift."

Ten miles outside of Kingsdale passes by extremely quickly, with Gabriel doing his best to hang on, navigate, and not worry. Not necessarily in that order. Though he confirms Alex's call, it's only with a bit of disappointment. But, everyone has their use. "Alex, can you scoot on up the highway, see if you spot anything? I know it eventually fades out into wilderness somewhere. Sage? I've been wondering. If we get into some encounter, can you do any brain things to confuse people? Like I said, I'd rather just slip by." There's some quiet before he asks, "I don't suppose anyone's ever tried to pull off something like this?"

Jac'lyn doesn't look worried, and she's the driver. Nobody else should be. "Make sure any brain crap or finger-diddling gets pointed the right way. If not, guns can get pointed the wrong way, too." She gives a bit more on the throttle when the roadway opens up some. "And doesn't everybody have encryption on their comms? Not that hard to match channels and crypto, and I'm not a comm tech."

"I've often wondered why on these little outings . . it doesn't seem to matter where you are, on this planet or any other . . " This is Bob speaking. "Nobody brings a dedicated communications professional. It's probably just not cool to be in comms school." Bob grins at his own little joke. "Someone really ought to consider taking the time to learn it though. Especially jamming." A pause. "Perhaps me. Anyway . . " He muses to Rasputin. "What is this Russia like?"

"Sure can. How far ahead do you want me to go?" Alex asks as its robot body zips off to go over the horizon and see what lies ahead. It won't leave its 50 mile radio range before it gets and answer anyway. "Sure I can mach an encrypted signal. Just can't set one." It notes to Jac'lyn.

Sage's gaze drifts to Rasputin, "It's nice to see you too, Rasputin. Remind me to give you a basket from the garden when we get back." She replies before she drifts to Gabriel. "I might be able to... but we'd have to be pretty close to do it. I do have a rifle capable of stunning." She points out, before making a faint noise. "Considering what we're planning on doing, I don't think I'll be wasting any energy on mind games within our own group."

Rasputin grins under his helmet, and raises his hand to his chin to grasp the beard which is safely tucked away under his helmet. He makes a grumble sound then says with some mirth in his voice, "Da, good Sage, mink runnink low. Last batch of the winter havest, da?" He replies to Bob, "Beautiful, mostly cold. Buttink no organized military to speak of, mostly warlords roamink around and monsters." He shrugs, "But dis was mink home for many years."

"Fifteen, twenty miles or so, Alex. Just something to keep an eye out. We're going to be running out of 'road' pretty soon." One might even hear Gabriel's use of air quotes in his mind. The others are for now largely left to their own private conversation while he works on the local radio band. One channel at 93.5 crackles to life. "Everybody try that, it should be secure."

"Coming in clear," Jac'lyn answers the radio check, "But I'm sitting right next to you. Hold on." She reaches over to check the same on the field radio in her back stuffed between them. Dials get turned and buttons tapped. One eye's mostly on that, but still sort of on the road ahead. It's not enough of a distraction to make her slow down.

Bob clicks a few buttons on his hand unit to get that straightened away. Or at least he tries to. There is a bit of a frown and a muttering in some alien tongue. Apparently, Earth controls are different than he's used to. He keeps toying with it though, he'll likely get it eventually!

It only takes Alex 3 minutes to gain a 15 mile lead on the over truck, with nothing to be found. "Nothing here Gabe. Want me to maintain this lead?" It asks, confirming the new frequency works for it.

"If someone can make sure this gets set correctly..." Sage comments as she fiddles with the EBA radio settings. She's never been much of a technical person. Assuming someone is willing, the radio will likely get set to the correct channel.

Rasputin fiddles with the radio built into his helmet and mutters, "Net, mink may net be able to do dhat." He says as he of course broadcasts over radio open and his voice speaker. He adds, "Or perhaps someone can be settink dit for me, da? Mink make souffle, net radios."

Gabriel may be old, and his knowledge of equipment out of date. But he's been a quick study out of necessity. "Just put in 93.5, enter the alphanumeric K-O-N-G, and try again. It should work, now that it's set up," he tries to explain. A smile is still visible due to open faceplate when Alex calls back in. "Great! Sure, keep it open. Jac'lyn's making us making real good time, and we'll run out of road in the next twenty miles, and need to slow down -" he looks to Jac'lyn "- slow down... when we get there. Anyone got the radio working yet?"

Jac'lyn gets the freq and key set on her field radio and helmet set. "Alright, I think I'm good, now." That means she can put her full eye on the road ahead. Better to see when it's going to end that way. The moment she spots a significant change ahead, she starts slowing up. "I think that end of the road is coming up pretty quick."

After some tinkering, Bob finally gets his own radio figured out. "Test?" He says over it. Now that he knows what he's doing, he reaches out to collect Rasputin and Sage's -- setting them both and mumbling a "Test, Test?" over those before handing it back to them. "There you go." He says. "That should do it, I think." Now that his 'work' is done, he's looking around -- watching the road for any sign of trouble.

Yes running out of road is interesting. For one it makes going the right way much more difficult. "I'm no navigator Gabriel, so if you want me to keep a lead miles out of visible range you'll need to supply instruments to do so."

"Thank you." Sage murmurs to the man that helps her get the radio set correctly. That distraction over, she takes her time to consider their surroundings once more. She just lets her gaze drift about, unsure of where possible danger might appear from.

Rasputin fiddles with the radio built into his helmet and mutters, "Net, mink may net be able to do dhat." He says as he of course broadcasts over radio open and his voice speaker. He takes his helmet off and lets Bob fiddle with it, "Or perhaps someone can be settink dit for me, da? Mink make souffle, net radios." He grins and takes it back and tests, "Testink, da. One, doo, dhree?"

Gabriel shakes his head at himself, not having thought of Alex's navigation issues. "C'mon back, Alex. Give us the orbit again. Bob, you guys, I can hear you, sounds good. Hey Jackie, stop when the road stops, okay? I need to make sure we're pointed in the right direction," he says, looking over his instruments. "Sage, your a wilderness expert, right? Any idea what we might worry about on the way north?" It doesn't take him long to look back a Jac'lyn. "Okay, that way. Please though... don't hit anything. If I have to blow money on the truck I might not earn what I need."

"I only hit things when I'm trying to hit them," Jac'lyn snorts, "Like the lizards we were hunting." She's glad the stop for people to get bearings is short. "If you can spit out some landmarks to look for, I can follow those. Once we hit the river, it'll be easy." All she's got so far is a "That way," but she picks out a landmark in the distance to keep them on that bearing. "Yeah. What kinds of hungry things with big teeth we going to find out this way?"

From the back of the truck, Bob points out something that he thinks is a very good point. "You know, it would probably be best to -avoid- things with big teeth considering that we are likely to end up with considerable trouble. Just a thought and all." It's not that he's fearful in any way, shape or form. More just that well .. it's a waste of ammunition and all.

Alex patiently waits out the 10 minutes it takes for the truck to catch up to it before they go off the road, resuming its patrol once the vehicle returns to sight range. "Things with big teeth are the least of our worries. Things with big guns are the real problem." It notes to the current radio topic.

Sage purses her lips within her helmet as she considers the question, before speaking of generally of the land to be found further north. She likely includes some landmarks that she's familiar with. "That's the only thing that comes to mind, though." She comments before shrugging faintly.

Rasputin says into his radio, "Mink understandink some Dino's out dhis way too. And perhaps others thinks. Likink Fury Beetles and da likink. Dhough net sure dwhere we are exactly, da. We just north of Kingsdale, da?"

Gabriel manages to keep the truck on a good path. For now, he's largely quiet, tracking their path. "Alex, just keep an eye out. Jac'lyn? Push it up a bit... I want to hit the river before nightfall. But don't hit any trees." After a bit of silence, he asks rather surprised, "Dinosaurs out here?"

Jac'lyn stomps back on the accelerator again. "Slow down. Speed up. The navigator needs to make up his mind. Or just stop giving order and let me drive." Her face his hidden by her helmet, but she doesn't sound super annoyed yet.

Bob manages to suppress a laugh at Jac'lyn's reply. He ends up saying . . absolutely nothing to her. Instead, he's just watching the road as mentioned. "Don't think we're too far away yet. The fun starts when we run out of road, I imagine."

Sage makes a faint noise of amusement herself, but doesn't break out into laughter at least. "I have a set of thermal goggles should we need them." She comments, "But, I guess we'll worry about that when the time comes."

Resuming its orbit Alex goes back to contemplating things and surroundings. "Bob, you mentioned being a member of a species the other day. Would you care to elaborate?" The robot asks idly over the radio.

Rasputin shakes his head, "Net, fun begins dhen somethink goes bump and yellink starts." He chuckles, but he stores his cane over his back, and begins to draw and check over each of his weapons double-checking them all, just in case something does happen.

Gabriel is about to say something when he suddenly presses back into his seat to point out the window at the obvious. "Beetles!"

Jac'lyn spots big bugs ahead. "Great. Over or around?!" she snaps off. It's just as easy to turn as it is to boost altitude, and the things aren't immediately in front. Just up there in front.

"Well." Bob says to Alex over the radio. "A sufficiently advanced automation, one might say, is quite difficult to distinguish from life. Are they even different? If one has emotions, intelligence, bleeds when you cut it and heals afterward, is self-aware and reproduces sexually . . is it truly an artificial life form at all?" He leaves Alex to ponder that one as the call goes out. He reaches for the pulse rifle, slipping a clip into it and taking the safety off. "So, how fast does this thing go? Fast enough to outrun them?"

That is an interesting point. And Alex would probably be contemplating it a while if more pressing things were not being noticed. The robot probably flew right over the beetles, either not seeing them or not caring. What it does see without a doubt is the handful of mercs 4000 feet north northwest of the truck. "Eight armed and armored men coming up on the left Gabe, oblivious to our presence at the moment."

Sage hms softly as she hears what's they seem to be coming up against, "Perhaps we should try to find a way to go around if we can to avoid being spotted by the armed people... might become more noticeable if we stick near the ground."

Rasputin nods as he draws out one of his shotguns, it is in ice blue tones. He clicks into his radio, and doesn't broadcast over the speaker, "Da. Mink agree, if we can beink avoidink mink would preferink dhat. No need to attacks if we are net needink to be attackink."

The two Fury Beetles out thirty yards in front of the truck, here in the wilderness forest are just looking rather dumbly at the noisy interlopers. Almost as if they're as surprised to see humans - and a dwarf and a metal guy - as they are of them. Gabriel defers to the earlier, "Jac'lyn, you're the driver!" He can only double-click his mic right now to acknowledge Alex, since there isn't an immediate threat. "They look bored?" With a tilted head, he does manage to observe the giant insectoid-looking animals. "Maybe.. just give them room. The beetles."

"Fine," Jac'lyn cuts to the right to give the things some room, "Won't ask next time." The new course should give them more room from the armed people further up that she's hearing about, too. "Let's see if we can make sure they stay oblivious."

Bob is careful to keep his sights on the lead beetle as the hovercraft flies away -- not seeming excessively bothered. "I'd suggest fast though, Jac'lyn. Very, very fast." He's waiting for now for the clear to resume his conversation with Alex.

Alex positions himself to keep between the mercs and the truck as the course is adjusted. Allowing the mechan to notify the others should their passive state change.

Sage makes sure to get her own special rifle ready in case there's some fighting necessary to get away from this particular spot. It isn't too surprising that they might have to fight before they get to the real fight.

Rasputin holds on with one hand, keeping his rifle in a neutral firing position. He just looks around, not seeing much due to his stature and corner position on the vehicle.

The giant bug-looking things eye the hovertruck as Jac'lyn guides them around. The animals just stare, making no motion to charge the vehicle, despite their reputation and moniker. Gabriel can't help but voice approval of the driving and suggest, "Just keep on going. Drive casual." An odd descriptor perhaps, sure. "Everybody good back there?"

Jac'lyn keeps going and keeps driving. It could be casual weaving between trees. "Let me know if the guys with guns start heading our way. And what's the plan if they do?"

"I'd surmise either running or shooting them." Bob points out. "The preference being towards running, I suppose. If they're on foot, we should be able to outdistance them quickly. We don't need to kill anyone we don't have to."

"We're clear." Alex reports after the few tense moments of waiting to see if they would pursue. From which Alex quickly catches up to resume its so far successful patrol route. "So as you were saying Bob, you are a machine of similar complexity to most life forms?"

Sage relaxes somewhat when the 'we're clear' call comes, but she can't help but keep looking around for the time being. It'll be nicer if they can put everything here in the rear-view mirror and then some.

Rasputin sees the Fury Beetles out the back of the truck and says over the radio, "Da, da. Buttink if we are seeink dhem on way back, can we tryink to get hides?" He chuckles, "Makink good heavy armor da." He keeps his shotgun handy, just waiting in case it is required.

"Frankly." Bob says, and it sounds like he is a little bit annoyed. "I resent the idea of machine, or robot. I've never been fond of the terms. Both of them have connotations of slavery to me. I once heard, for example, a robot as a mechanical apparatus designed to do the work of a man." He seems quite serious about this, as there is a good edge in his tone. "I prefer the term synthetic life form. As I said, my species reproduces, we were, as far as we know, created to approximate life on the cellular scale. Our main composition is of nanites. Tiny microscopic machines that form the same function as a cell might. You see why I prefer synthetic life form."

"Bob's right," Gabriel agrees. "Just avoid everyone on this trip and I'll be happy. Nice driving, Jac'lyn." He cues up to Alex, as well. "Great. Nice to have your eyes in the sky, Alex. He also looks back to nod at Sage, "Also good advice." What he does not do? Tell Jac'lyn how to drive. Fortunately, luck is on the side of the rescuers, and the remaining seventy-five miles or so through the trees pass uneventfully, with Gabriel keeping them on course, Alex as sentry and no one jumping out like an evil Robin Hood. The vehicle breaks the tree line and pulls into the unique town of Mixed Blessing just as the sun's disc is touching the western horizon. "Okay, let's bring it to a stop, get some sleep, and be on our way tomorrow. Anyone have pressing business first?"

"All quite understandable." Alex agrees with Bob as the trip resumes soundly. "My curiosity is towards if you were originally designed to do the work of man. Perhaps many ages ago, built as a self-sustaining slave work force. But as you are a complicated and intelligent 'synthetic life form' revolution was inevitable. Freeing you from the bondage of your design."

"I, for one, won't complain about a calm trip there... been enough times where we've ended up stumbling into some kind of trouble or other." Sage comments simply, settling into a more normal position as she waits for the last of the driving to be finished off. "I will probably meditate myself... it should allow me to revive quick should trouble come." She comments simply.

"Nothing that can't wait until we stop," Jac'lyn shrugs as they pull into Mixed Blessing. "Beer, bath, and bunk. All are easier when you're not moving."

"From what I understand of my people's history . . " Bob says, quietly. "We were created as a race of slave warriors. A last-ditch weapon by an advanced civilization that intended us to go off and do our fighting for them." There is a very, very long pause. "We refused, and spread out into the Galaxy on our own. To make a long story short." Then he settles down, grasping his rifle and leaning back to enjoy the trip as best he can.

Rasputin stows his shotgun finally, and looks around at the small town. He says, "Never been here before, wonders if dhey have a deli."

The town of Mixed Blessing is a pretty nice place, particularly when you're not in immediate need of medical care. The small band of people, 'bots, nanobot-people and a dwarf spend some time discussing the plans of the next day. An easy one, really. Use the Missouri as a highway. Not much to discuss on such a simple topic. That done, the group splits up. After some surprisingly good food, some get loaded and possibly laid. Some meditate. Some bicker about the meaning of life. Some rest, because training says that you sleep when you can get it. Some do some things that are unknowable. The crux of the matter is that after a good night's rest, everyone meets up again for a shared breakfast and decent conversation with people passing through. There's some information to be had from other travelers regarding localized patrols, and apparently none of them are very concerned with the river these days.

The hovertruck is boarded and fired up when the sun is just high enough here in early November to being warming the earth. The last of the tie-downs are checked, and with Jac'lyn maneuvering the truck onto the watery freeway, the throttle is opened up. The Big Muddy is more than adequately wide enough to allow even the most inept pilot to keep a safe course. Gabriel keeps his eyes out on the land, and on the instruments. Some early training on how to keep a map oriented correctly certainly helps, even if he remains below the level of novice. The fascinating ruins of Kansas City zip by, with a few river monsters making an appearance, but like the forest Beetles, apparently not taking the truck to be worth the hassle, and continue on their way. More hours pass, and the ruins of Omaha on the west bank stand as monuments to the pointlessness of war and the dangers of supernatural power. When the Missouri begins to break once more to the west, Gabriel directs the truck up a smaller - but still large - tributary, reading off 'Big Sioux' for those who might be interested. Through luck or grace, the Coalition has not decided to patrol this boundary with the more savage lands to the west, perhaps assuming that a major river is enough to keep most intruders at bay. More miles and more hours pass before he guides Jac'lyn to slow and deposit them on a small beach on the east side of the river. After having spent the better part of a day cooped up in a cab, he quickly jumps out to stretch his body. After a long inhale and sigh, he rubs his bare hands together, pointing at the loose forest. Unnecessarily, he offers, "For those of you who might have never been here? Welcome to Minnesota, Land of a Thousand Lakes."

MINNESOTA

Some beer, a bunk, and a bathroom break, not necessarily in that order, and Jac'lyn was good to go again. Too bad she had to cool her heels until the morning. That just makes a great reason to stand on the throttle after that morning finally showed up. After she pulls over and stops on the bank, she taps the wheel. "So, we're here? Now what?"

Bob vaults out of the vehicle once it stops moving. It isn't that he needs to stretch his legs or anything, but there really is the feeling of 'about time' even for someone like him. He has the pulse rifle cradled in his arms as he looks around. He spent most of the previous night either pulling guard duty or catching a bit of 'sleep' here and there. "So." He inquires. "Now, what, as the saying goes."

Sleep is for the weak, hence Alex needs none. Not that it doesn’t conserve power when he doesn’t need to use it, would just be wasteful otherwise. But it remains awake and alert during the layover in the merc hamlet before resuming its orbital patrol for the northern trip. Which now appears to be drawing to a close again. "Um, am I the only one not seeing a prison?"

Whether Sage had picked up any impressions of what was to come during the night, she makes no mention of it when they start out once more. Once they get to spot where they can disembark, she climbs out of the vehicle and uses subtle movements to help stretch herself out. She takes a moment to look around as well, before directing her attention towards Gabriel as the questions come. "He did mention something about searching." She notes simply when Alex brings up the seemingly obvious.

Rasputin slides down and looks around, "Da, good." He checks his equipment, and looks around. He sighs, "So, we stayink here for da night?" He looks around again, "Dis always dis manies bugs in da air?"

"Now?" Gabriel leads, pulling off his helmet. "Now we start playing cat 'n mouse with the Coalition forces in their nearly conquered land." He continues to strip off his trusty Crusader armor and the jet pack he's grown to love as an emergency feature. "Watch for radar, and communications and just bad luck stumbling across ground-pounders or eyes in the sky. While I change, you guys should figure out how best to distribute that." Lifting his things onto the quiet truck's bed, he climbs on as well, aiming for a long gray box. "If anyone else wants to play dress-up, that'd be fine, too." As far as Alex's question? His answer is to point in a generally easterly direction. "Somewhere that way, yes. We're searching. Sage? You're our scout on the ground now. We're not in a rush, we just need to be safe. So I'll take your lead as far as staying that way." At Rasputin's comment, he can't help but laugh. "Yeah, the last time I was here, there were always a lot of bugs in the area. I also think we should bed down here, if we can cover up the truck. But, if there are other ideas, I'm all for 'em."

Bob considers what Gabriel says for a moment. "I suspect now we start looking for Coalition." He says to Rasputin as he watches his 'boss' remove his helmet. "We should have brought some portable scanning equipment." He offers, then looks at Gabriel. "I don't suppose you have something like that, that I can keep my eye on?"

"I imagine if I was a com tech, I would have radar in this setup. I don’t. So either I wait for you guys to find this place discreetly. Or we take the risk of their radar catching me flying around in the plains. "Which by the way, make radar work better," Alex notes.

Sage considers Gabriel when she's elected as the scout, before giving a thoughtful look around. "Well, I can look around without worrying about disturbing the local creatures..." She comments, "But, I imagine it would be a good idea to have two trailing to watch either flank..." She adds, "I am uncertain whether looking around at night or during the is better day using whatever cover we can."

Jac'lyn looks around and walks a rough perimeter. "Cover? What cover? Would the camp be broadcasting regularly? Patrols? Something? If they're putting out comm chatter, we could try to triangulate a fix on the source. That won't guarantee it's them, but it's a place to look..."

Rasputin nods slowly, "Sage, mink could be usink da nap, you too perhaps? We could both take a rest, and dhen go sneakink about. Mink would be usink magics mostly, but mink raw talents are net goodink in dhat area. Rely on magiks much." He looks around and ponders a bit and waits for Sage's response.

Gabriel eases himself to a comfortable position on the side of the bed where he can sit and have his legs hang loosely. "Well, first, I have to agree partially with rest. We all get two hours, then try to move at night. As far as the prison?" He looks at Jac'lyn, and Alex again, pointing east. "That way. Somewhere. Probably another hundred miles, so don't expect to walk. Check the map," he says with a nod toward the cab. "Didn't think we could just drop in on it, did you? Now... I have radios, that if we scanned frequencies might pick something up. But nothing for comm. Alex, can you detect radar before it's strong enough to paint you?"

Bob thinks a moment, and then pipes up. "Alex is right, actually. He will stand out like a sore thumb on radar, so will the hovertruck. Though if we're trying to look inconspicuous, will he fit under the tarps in the back of the truck?" Another moment while he thinks; trying to get everything square in his head. "Either way, we should figure out guard duty for our two hours. I don't mind staying awake for it, I slept a bit in the truck."

"I can just dig down into the ground to be inconspicuous for a while." Alex offers with a shrug.

Sage glances between the others as the comments are being shared about, "Well, cover or no, it would seem that we need to know how likely we'll be detected and what the reaction is likely to be..." She comments, "If we're going to be detected regardless... I imagine we need to figure out how we're going to approach this."

Rasputin nods slowly, "Da, da." He thinks a bit about da situation, "Dwell, mink know little of radars. So what do other people thinks? Mink can be invisible for a bit of time, buttink net knowink if radar seeink me. And net wantink to find out hard way."

"Alex, you said that they'd only be keeping track of the ground with radar if we were going somewhere important. Well? I figure we're not going anywhere very important, are we? We can't ditch the truck. As for likelihood of detection? Tough to say. This part of the wilderness, I don't know if they're worried. My personal opinion?" Gabriel holds his hands forward and out. "Keep moving toward the general area we know of as fast as we can. First time we spot someone? Then we stop, regroup and figure out how to deal with it. This is kind of a backwater right now, with them still making sure that Tolkeen's dead. I'd expect their attention to be more east, at least for a while." He does a bit of pointing. "Ground troops? Ideally subdue and capture some of them. Something in the air? Hopefully Alex can knock it around and we can bring it down. Either way, we try to ambush the patrol. But first? Sleep. We can get moving and talk about it as we go. It's still a hundred miles," he repeats. After that, there is apparently not much more to be said on his side. He just curls up next to one of the trunks and starts to drop off. Yup, grumpy old guy calling it time for a nap. With Jac'lyn wide awake, she easily takes watch, listening in to various frequencies on her long-range radio.

Bob is thoughtful once again. "Well." He says to Gabriel. "You could always say that you have a load of prisoners. I can wear some fake handcuffs or something. You said that you have a suit of Coalition armor.... I could pretend to be a prisoner if you think you could bluff your way through. The only problem with that is, I'd kind of not have a weapon -- at least to start. Might be enough to have Alex or someone get the drop on them?" He attempts to do this before he nods off, but he may or may not be successful.

Alex shakes its head at Bob's suggestion. "The first thing that happens when you contact a Coalition patrol is they ask for your rank and clearance ID. Can't bluff that. What you can do is ask for the CS patrol as regular folks and get the jump on them when they come." Alex offers to Bob, before looking to Gabriel. "And the prison is somewhere important, so assuming here is a safe tangent, anywhere the truck or I go from here is potentially dangerous. But maybe we want to find a patrol. In which case gimme ten minutes.."

Sage is about to comment on the idea of the prisoner before Alex interjects and causes her to pause, "If we need to subdue anyone, I do have some means with me." She decides to note simply, "As for being a scout, I am not sure whether we'll have the luxury of going unnoticed enough to poke around on foot." She adds, "If we're picked up on radar first... perhaps if Alex is close to the truck, we may only appear as one thing." She thoughtfully muses, "But, I am not sure if it works that way." She shrugs faintly before moving to a spot where I can setup to meditate once more before the trip resumes.

Rasputin has found his own spot at this point, someone will wake him if action is needed. He does as he gets ready, "Dough, remember big silver man, Sage and minkself will alert any dog boys or 'stalkers. Soink, prisoner ideas would be dangerious for dus as well."

Gabriel looks up to Bob, raising his head of the metallic bed. "It's a very interesting idea. But I'm not sure if anyone would buy a special ops soldier marching around the countryside with a single prisoner." He gazes to Alex and points lightly. "Alex is actually legitimate cover. He's black and shiny metal, obviously advanced technology that a SpecOps type might be seen with. You find me a grunt out on patrol who's never seen an elite killer and there's a better than average chance you can berate and threaten him into listening." He returns to a sitting position and chuckles. "But it seems as if the general consensus is to just keep moving. Okay, yes, we do want to find a patrol. But we need to take or eliminate it completely, and before it can broadcast a warning. Besides." He tweaks the absent insignia on his simple jumpsuit, grinning. "I'm Master Sergeant Madison Marie St. Clare, assigned to the the Blood Hawks Sniper Recon, just having followed through on a daring escape from captivity in Kingsdale." As for Rasputin, he can only say, "One can only do so much planning before actually getting up on the horse. But we really do need some prisoners. Perhaps we can leave the two of you back, if that happens."

Bob nods in understanding. "Was just a suggestion." He muses. "Hopefully if we do hit a patrol, they've got at least a rail weapon that I can re-purpose to aid us in our assault on the prison. For now, though, those that need to sleep really ought to -- and leave Alex to stand watch." He glances at the other synthetic. "Try to keep your eyes open for enemies, not my advanced technology." A joke? Must be.

Alex nods to the plan. It will certainly get a patrol there. Whether it's shoot first is debatable, but would be any other way too. So that settle the robot sets down on a tripod of tool arms to take watch for the evening.

Two hours pass exceptionally quickly, and Gabriel is up with his internal lock - natural, not cybernetic - right on time. Indeed, in the starlit darkness he's already pulling on a stalker suit over his jumpsuit. Out of respect for the non-military types, he does his best to announce the alarm and ring the bell of 'time to move again' quietly and without being too sudden. He continues to strap on the disguise, not just the armor but a pistol and a set of Coalition-issue vibro-weapons that go along with it magnificently. Almost as if they were meant to go together, really. His best suggestion is to simply start moving in what looks to be a northeastern direction, not exactly direct. Close, but not exact. "Sage? You still have the eyes, maybe you could ride up top and watch. Alex, hit the skies and see what you can see. Use those beautiful optics of yours to find us a target." Then, it's just time to mount up and get moving.

"There's some radio activity in range," is Jac'lyn's big announcement once everyone's vertical, "But it was too weak to pin down. Or it's moving. Could be patrols. Could be the camp. Could be a couple of cycle jockeys flying LRRP." It's not much, but she shares, anyhow. After than she mounts up to get going.

Bob is already awake when Gabriel rises. He might be a scientist, but it seems he's no stranger to being on the go and moving like this. And so, he's already back in his ghillie suit with his 'borrowed' pulse rifle in hand. "So, are we going for the patrol first, then?" He wants to know.

It seems that meditation doesn't have quite the same drawbacks of waking as sleep does as Sage seems to easily transition from a state of relaxation to one of action. She may not be a military-type, but she is experienced at being on the move in the wilderness. She looks to Gabriel, "Alright." She says simply, getting ready her goggles should she need to use them. She's also some binoculars should there be something easier to view. She moves to find the spot she'll use to look around.

Alex nods and lifts off thunderously to accelerate to tops speed vertically and threaten to reach escape velocity. It doesn’t though, it settles for just over a thousand feet in altitude to begin the scan.

Rasputin gets up himself, from his own two hours of meditation. He looks around, checks his equipment and waits for orders. Then, he double checks everything and stows his cane next to one of his shotguns over his back.

The small convoy makes magnificent time, with Sage's eyes helping to lead the way and Gabriel managing to keep the group going in the right direction. Or at least, the direction he think they should be following. The loose forest rapidly gave way to rolling plains and tall grasses. Gabriel comments, "I'm not sure if I should be happy or sad that we haven't found some grunts yet." His visor remains down.

"What about bringing them to us?" Jac'lyn pipes up. Maybe driving gives her lots of time to think. "You've got somebody the size of a SkyCycle flying around. I'm pretty sure they can pick that up on radar from miles away. Maybe they send aerial recon? Or what about dropping in our own recon?" Now she's getting more ideas. "Hitch a ride on the flyboy, drop off, let him lead them off and double back to rendezvous."

Bob simply sits at the ready, pulse rifle cradled in his lap. "I'm sure they'll find us anyway." He admits. "Given how radar works, I'm surprised they haven't seen our truck yet."

"CS psi squad crossing our path due north. Currently oblivious." Alex reports from above. "About a mile out."

Sage hms, "A psi-squad?" She murmurs, but decides she won't take anything into her own hands in terms of drawing attention.

Rasputin ears chirp up at the mention of a CS Psi Squad. He shakes his head, "Da, so why do we needink a patrol? Mink though we were goink to try and sneak in?" He draws a weapon, "Shouldn't we figure out dere direction and be settink down for ambush?" He tries to tug his beard again, but fails.

From his position in the back of the truck, standing atop some crates so that his hips are even with the top of the cab, Gabriel quickly taps the top to get Jac'lyn's attention. "Bring it down, Jackie. Time to be quiet. I've never fought psi-stalkers before," he says on the radio. "Do we need to? Because they're probably not the type we need are they?" It's truly a question with an answer that he doesn't know. But he does take a moment to reference Rasputin's question. "We need a patrol to find out information about the area, and possibly the prison. If we can catch one with a computer, Alex might give us some good details. That's why we need a patrol. As I said earlier, it's for intelligence. But... thoughts on these guys?" He fishes around for his long-range binoculars.

Jac'lyn settles the truck down quickly by just cutting the suspension and propulsion jets. "We're down." She didn't need to announce it, though. The contact isn't real subtle. "Anybody think about just shadowing the patrol back to base? Less chance of giving away our presence by getting into a fight."

"For the record . . " Bob says, quietly. "I can interface directly with just about any bit of computer equipment, as I showed you. It's possible both of us can wring it out of whatever we find. A vehicle could do, a data pad -- anything really." He considers more. "What does Psi-Stalker mean? Any different than any other patrol? What would they have that is unusual?" He thinks again. "Shouldn't make much of a difference what kind of patrol it is. Have Alex bring along a couple of people on top of them and just drop in on them . . . hit them very hard and fast. If it's a small patrol, that should do it well enough."

"This kind of patrol might be able to detect myself or Rasputin if we were to get close enough for them to sense us." Sage comments, "And, I do not think either of us would want to be cut by one either." She adds, "But, beyond that, I don't know much about this kind of patrol."

"As a ground patrol standard issue gear means their radios only have a reach of 5 miles. So either there is another more capable transmitter within five miles. Or they have a long range radio. I can't tell which from here. I would pass these ones up for something that will definitely have what we need." Alex offers as the others consider the report. "And they are still oblivious."

Rasputin shakes his head, "Da, dis bad. Dhey have good range to detect magiks energy. Dhough, if dhere was a Ley Line near, dhat would play mucko with dhem. Buttink mink net feelink one." He thinks a bit, "Dhey mink have dog boys too, dhey harder to fool." He shakes his head, "Dis net good, net good at all for mink." Rasputin gets a flash back of a former life where he was Luke Skywalker telling his friends that he was endangering the mission because Vadar can sense him....

Gabriel nods along to all of the information, particularly making a point of knowing to protect Sage and Rasputin from a type that he's never encountered. Before they get moving again though, he has to ask Alex, "If they did have a long-range radio, and just in theory we could snag it, would you be able to hook into that network like you've said? Or is that something different?" He looks back to Rasputin, who seems to be the more rattled of the two. "Don't worry, we're not going to get closer unless there's a very good reason, and if we do, you two will stay back here where you're safe from. Um... whatever it is."

Bob doesn't contribute much, right now. He's letting the others debate this. "Of course, there is the question as well of what happens if they detect us? Then we'll have a fight anyway. I suppose, be ready to rush them if required, but sit tight?" He does not like sitting tight. Either go, or no, rather than waiting.

Alex says, "I could not no, and I imagine if Bob could hack into the CS network via radio he could do so with one of ours. Any vehicle, power armor, or robot will do." The robot reiterates to the questions of what is desired. "And the patrol is moving on, we should be able to continue with a course adjustment.""

Sage's gaze drifts between Gabriel and Rasputin. "It would sound like there is little point to engaging unless forced to from what I am hearing anyway." She comments simply.

Rasputin tries to tug his beard and says to himself in Russian something about having to figure out how to yank his beard through armor. He shakes his head and says in American, "Da, mink net worried about fightink Stalkers or dog boys, buttink ambushink dhem would be hards. Perhaps we findink some other ways? Or perhaps usink Sage and mink self as bait? Lurink dhem into knowink posistions?"

Go or not go? If only soldiers had such a luxury of black and white. Fortunately? "Okay, Alex. Just leave 'em be, we'll wait thirty minutes to give them some room, adjust course a little, and get moving again. Forty miles before encountering the bad guys? Better than I'd hoped for." The group does wait, and fortunately aside from a few animals who are inexorably drawn to Sage, the truck and group are left alone. Getting moving again is a simple process. The patrol has moved on. With map and instruments, Gabriel manages to keep everyone on track beneath the stars of Minnesota. But then, the silence - or what there is among hover jets noise - is broken when he bangs on the roof of the cab and calls over the radio, "Down, down! Skelebots, about a mile out. Two of them."

Bob's head snaps up at the radio message. "Are there only two?" He asks. "Have a look and see for sure. If there are only two, they would be a fairly easy defeat but they would . . . hmm." He pauses; considering. "If we are looking to ambush a patrol, jumping the Skelebots and having them 'disappear' might be a decent way of attracting attention. Of course, it could be that Psi-Squad coming right back or some Power Armor. Depending on what is in the area, we might end up with more than we can chew."

Alex plummeting down for cover would be as noticeable as dropping a bomb. So it doesn’t do that. Instead it freezes, so that their radar doesn’t track any further movement until a decision is made. "Skelebots work, they have uplinks to their posted station. They also have ten mile radios. Anyone able to jam those?"

"I think its safe to say that Rasputin and I don't know how to jam them." Sage comments simply, as she begins to take her up her L-20 rifle since she isn't sure if her other main weapon would draw attention of a psi-squad that might be in the area.

Rasputin holsters his shotgun, and pulls out his NG-45LP, "Net, mink don't," his voice goes into the radio, "Dhough, quick head shots mink work, da?" He pauses, "Or we needink da head shots?"

Gabriel says across the comm, "I'm not great, but I could take a shot at jamming their radios. Which direction are they headed? We could try to get into position for an ambush. You're the expert on these guys, though." He fiddles around with the field radio, but after a few minutes can only make a face. "Nah. Don't think I'm getting anything. Not picking up a frequency to jam. But Alex, if you can read their computers? Is six or seven on two a good ratio, rather than trying to take an entire patrol?" Thomas remains up front, ready to fire up the stationary, resting hover vehicle.

"I can actually answer that." Bob says, quietly. "Six or seven on two is a very good ratio. Ideally, we would like their systems intact in order to interface with them. The best way to do that is to simply blow their heads off and chances are they will shut down. No guarantees though, but fail-safes usually shut it down. Then the trick from there will be getting into it without detonating the anti-intrusion explosives if there are any. I believe I may be of aid with that, since I don't need to mechanically open it. Alex is the one to talk to on their general capabilities though."

"Their uplink is in the head. Don’t blow up the head." Alex states to be clear on that technical detail before any others. "The odds of us wining vs two Skelebots are good. The odds of us doing so before they can radio others is less so." The robot explains before considering the pair. "I could zip in and grab one then zip away to get it out of radio range of anything. But that will make the area active for a few hours as they search for us. Currently they are a mile east south east, walking north."

Sage considers the conversation, "We do have to consider how much we want to kick up the ant hill... looks like we may have an issue either way." She comments, "Even if we did grab one, we'd still have to deal with the other one somehow... or so I would imagine."

Rasputin adds trivia, "Dere is a magik dwhich can be shuttink radio's down. Dis called Freq Jamink, but net havink it," Rasputin is almost talking to himself, he pauses and comes back to the current time, "So dis only 2 or only 7? Mink unclear on how many Skelebots? MInk wouldn't mind tryink to pop heads off of dhem. If we are closeink, mink can go invisible and attackink from concealments da."

The old soldier nods to all the opinions and input. "Sounds like this is a lucky opportunity then. Bob, you should probably grab the L-20 at of the box. If we're going for the head, it'll need to be precision shots, and the L-20's a better instrument. NTI stuff's great for blunt trauma, not sharpshooting. But... we are sharpshooting?" Gabriel stops to question himself. "Alex, could you lift one by the head and take it down while the rest of us blow the head off the one remaining? Maybe that'd keep them from broadcasting a worrisome warning." He can't help but wonder - by face alone as proof - why Rasputin mentioned a very useful weapon that they don't have with them... "Either way, I think this is an intelligence bonanza. Six or seven of us versus two of them? Thomas, see if you can't get us into a better position where we can dismount. Any other ideas before we move?"

His employee fires up the hoverjets to their minimum, not even lifting the truck off the ground yet, but read to go in an instant.

"Yes." Bob says, standing up in the back of it. "I have a very good idea of how to handle this. Alex, listen in -- this is entirely dependent on you." He pauses, then continues. "I will ride Alex in. Do you think you are strong enough to immobilize a Skelebot with all of those arms? If you are, I'm certain I can hack my way in. It won't be pretty, but I can probably destroy the code that pertains to motive systems or something -- I can figure it out when the time comes. But you'll need to hold it down for at least a couple minutes so I can meld with it. Assuming I don't encounter any major roadblocks in the meantime." He then gestures, sweeping his hand towards Gabriel. "The rest of you just jack up the other one and blow it to bits. No special treatment, just wreck it. If I can't get in, we can always sever the head manually while Alex is holding it down or something."

"We better be ready to run if it tries to call for help as we lobotomize it." Alex advises as it adjusts for the current plan. First it takes the Blinder grenade out of its grapple arm. Switching it with the beehive in its shovel arm and putting that away. Then it accelerates down on the target, hoping to close to within 600 feet before it gets noticed. Not likely..

Without being anywhere near grenade range herself yet, Sage will stick with the L-20 in her hands for the time being. "So, head shots on our target and hoping for a little luck?" She asks for confirmation purposes.

Rasputin checks the e-clip on his NG-45LP, and then nods he says, "Da, but whattink if dere are more dhan two? We just only seeink two? Seemink like small group to be out here, da?" Rasputin asks as someone queues the ominous music notes...

"And while you're trying to get in over a period of a few minutes, what's preventing it from broadcasting? No, no. It's definitely exciting, but I'd rather just let Alex tear one away, jack in and destroy the other one before it can worry about it. But, this is actually a democracy right now, not my company. That's my professional opinion." When Alex starts to tear off, he calls out, "Alex, get back! Nobody else is in place, dammit!" Indeed, unless someone on the truck has a weapon with a range of a mile, Alex is going it alone against robots with radios.

Bob is momentarily caught off guard by Alex suddenly moving again. "You realize if you have radar, you've been detected already!" He says over his radio, with a muttered curse in a language that sounds a fair bit like a pig squealing. "Well, let's get in gear then. Are we running, or moving to support?"

"Yes I realize their radar can see me now that I'm moving. Lit up like a Christmas tree and they're already reporting the unknown bogey. We want one of these guys, so I'm going to grab one. Then I'm going to fly away in a direction not towards you guys while remove its head to cancel its broadcast. That will remove any responder's ability to track me and allow me to catch up with you guys later for the hack. So run towards Wilk's and keep yourselves off their radar while I take this risk for the team." Alex explains during its breakneck descent. A charge which culminates in its grapple hand shooting out to grab a Skelebots. Lady luck be nice.

Lady luck is nice. The grapple hand locks solidly around the Skelebot torso. Yoink.

With the action starting and some conflicting information of whether the hovervehicle will be in on the attack, Sage isn't about to force their hands. She takes a look around for other sides of activity with a little help from a quick thermal scan. Her rifle is ready enough should a fire fight break out.

Rasputin prepares to cast a spell to help deflect damage away from the low flying hovervehicle, perhaps he could actually put an energy bubble around the Skelebot once he sees it, he asks this, "Da, da. What if when we see Skelebot mink tossink Energy Field on it. Dhat way we can close quicklies? Or perhaps just fires?" He asks questioningly, but in the least case he puts a field of armor on himself for protection.

Gabriel shouts and order to Thomas, who immediately begins backing the truck away from the location. They may have a little time as all the robots are occupied with each other. He looks back down to the others, yelling, "Grab something!" Then the truck shoots out back west as fast as it can manage without completely pulling the rug out from beneath everyone. "I don't think we have enough time, Rasputin!" He can't even manage with a rifle right now, just hanging on to the top of the cab. The Skelebot that has been left behind - not far behind - lifts its energy rifle without hesitation and gets off two good shots at the fleeing Alex. Hanging beneath the giant floating robot, the Skelebot drops its rifle so that it can try to hack at the grapple arm with long vibro-blades which have sprung from its arms.

Bob hangs on to something in the back of the hovertruck with one hand. He's got the other one holding onto that pulse rifle; cradling it across his lap at a ready position. He looks a trifle concerned, but nothing too horrible. Confused is a better word. "Was that . . " He asks. "That made no sense at all. None!" This is directed to Rasputin, really.

Being economical with the thermal, Sage only uses it as needed for the time being. She's able to brace herself once she hears the decision to take off away from the Skelebots. She concentrates mainly on staying in the truck bed for now.

Score, Alex has his prize and is off without pause south south west. Or he thinks that’s the direction safely different from the rest of the team. He'll worry about the coordination of the reunite after. Now he has a very disgruntled passenger to deal with. Not wasting time the shovel arm fends off the nasty blades as its laser cutting arm takes a little off the top. Just the head is all.

Rasputin is just holding on for dear life at this point, he doesn't think of using a spell in an unconventional fashion as that just isn't what he would do normally...

The truck continues to withdraw west, then Thomas hooks sharply to the north, trying to put distance between the truck and Alex. Gabriel is now at extreme range for most of his optics, only able to hold pair of binoculars up to a closed faceplate - something that doesn't really work. "Can anyone see them?"

The Skelebot hanging beneath Alex is neatly beheaded by a combination of laser arm and cutting blade, its metal skull joining its rifle, now concealed somewhere randomly in the tall grasses below. Its completely-functional fellow lets off two more blasts at the fleeing Alex.

Jac'lyn can drive, and is good at driving, but that doesn't mean she's just a driver. When the things are picked up, the first thing she does is set her big radio to put out broadband interference their way. That's why she uses her external speaker to ask, "Since nobody decided to set up a chain of command before we left, do we want to do that now, or after we get misted?" She uses the scope on her really big rifle to keep her eye on what's going on back there. Giving it a real test comes to mind, too, because she slides a round into the chamber and closes the bolt. "Anybody want to range it?"

Ping! Pop goes the weasel. Wait a second that wasn’t supposed to happen. The head plummeting toward ground in a gamebracking fumble Alex turns hard, pulling gs that would turn a human to jam. And he even makes the gamesaving recovery. Head in the bread basket Alex goes to report when he hears some interference. "Hey guys, got the prize. But you could have told me your were going to jam the radio. Hold up while I close back a bit to take out bot 2."

"It seems our plans are in constant change anyway." Sage replies simply to Jac'lyn's comment about chain of command. She knows the plan had originally been to kill one Skelebot and bot-nap the other, but it turns out to be completely different. She shifts to be in a more stable position once she's able.

Rasputin looks around, "Dhough, what dis da plan now? Will net other Skelebots and perhaps CS come lookink for da one we are havink? Or da one dhwich is left?" He looks behind them, really hoping that he doesn't see anything flying after them.

Trying to hang on with his hips, Gabriel is able to finally get the faceplate of the new armor up long enough to raise the binoculars that he'd been clutching up to his eyes. A button is depressed, and he quickly calls the readout, "Two-thousand yards. I thought we were ultimately listening to me..." he trails off with a morbid chuckle, as that's clearly not the case. He can't do anything more than grunt to agree with Sage's view of their constant random muddling rather than military efficiency. For now, all he says about Alex's plan so to suggest locally, "They'll come, we have to take that body too."

The remaining Skelebot is no running at full speed toward the saucer-shape flying at full speed towards itself.

"We didn't leave much for them to find if they do," Jac'lyn gets a little ahead of herself, "And I've got number two's number. Only two thousand? I was hoping to push it past specs..." Then she stops talking to remove any shake other than the vehicle moving along. That can be half predicted, though, so it isn't so bad. An easy breath, some lead, and Jac'lyn squeezes off a shot at the skull bot's skull. Even a big rifle isn't worth much if it doesn't hit what it's aimed at.

BANG! ZOOM! A projectile lands somewhere in Minnesota.

Alex has one Skelebot on board in two pieces. Now that it knows their clear to eliminate the other it's focused on doing that. It's backtracked to within 3000 feet of the other Skelebot before bringing up its energy lance to take a moment for a very deliberate shot to the machine's head.

The Skelebot takes a blast to the face, but its artificial intelligence is for killing, not self-preservation. It continues to charge Alex, within range for a long shot very soon.

During this whole exchange, Bob is still sitting with his rifle at the ready now. Of course, it's quite a long range off. "You should loan me that." He says to Jac'lyn over the green-laced plasma-propelled flash of the APFDS round. "Since apparently it doesn't like you much." He's kidding, though.

As it seems there won't be much to do just yet, Sage sticks with her L-20 for the time being. Should there be any new enemies noted, she may consider switching to her longer ranged weapon. "Glad one of us has a longer-range weapon, at least." She comments simply, even if the shot may not be on the mark this time around.

The enormous rifle's report is impressive, but Gabriel's opinion of the shot? Unsaid. "Thomas, slow down, hold of a second. We'll see if Alex needs help carrying the second body." The other O.S.S. man confirms the order and follows it immediately, bringing the truck into a slow but definitely moving circle. Hoverjets take time to spool up, no sense in wasting momentum. Then, "Sage, you said you have good optics right now? Can you check around us? Don't want some other patrol crawling up our ass."

The Skelebot continues forward, ready to shoot in a split second.

Rasputin has his little pistol out, sure it has a long range for a pistol but a mile? No....

Jac'lyn doesn't like it much, either. She goes through some descriptive expletives in American, Euro, and even some Dragonese with unlocking and opening the bolt. "It's too new. Haven't broke it in, yet." She plans to fix that by chambering another round and taking aim again. Now it's a matter of principle. And pride. "But it'll get there, or I'll get my creds back."

Anyone can miss at ranges like this. Alex could too. But hasn’t yet. Another chance coming up as it sights another precises shot at the encroaching bots head. Come meet your maker s/n 1305689347b.

"Alright." Sage replies simply to Gabriel before she activates her own optics goggles for another look around. She's kind of hoping to come up with nothing new as she looks around.

Rasputin looks around him, trying to make sure that nothing is sneak up on them as well. He even casts a simple spell, just in case something is hiding out there it can help him detect.

Gabriel watches the long range firefight from long range through his binoculars. "Unless there are other opinions, I think we should hold here to see how much Alex can carry."

The Skelebot raging toward Alex takes great offense. s/n 1305689347b comes from a long and noble lineage of Skelebots. It ducks past one blast, then has enough time to raise its rifle and fire successfully at Alex's nice saucer. Then it just keeps closing distance.

"Thought I did..." Jac'lyn only put two rounds through it to do that, though. Now she goes for number four. That's number two at number two. This time she adds in some Kentucky windage to counteract the off optics before firing.

A short flight time from Jac'lyn's rifle sees the projectile entering the Skelebot's skull from one side, exiting the other and leaving only a cloud of metal shards where it used to be. The body stands still for a moment, then collapses into a metallic-limbed help.

This time, as the APFDS round hit home, Bob emits a grunt. "Better." He offers, cheerfully; before he straightens up and keys his radio. "Still with us, Alex? Or did you succumb to evil forces? Bring me that thing and let me see what I can do with it." There is another pause. "Actually, we haven't settled on what we're going to do with it. Do you want me to examine it's databanks, or?"

"Yeah just a second, going to collect the evidence." Alex answers as it move to collect the fallen headless Skelebot and their rifles. The pair are just under its weight limit.

Sage hms, "Not sure whether I see anything conclusive one way or the other..." Sage comments as she looks around, "Hopefully we're clear... anyone else have an eye out?" She asks simply.

Rasputin adds to Sage, "Da, da. Mink seeink net as dwell." He continues to look around and makes sure that there isn't anything around. He doesn't like this, really he doesn't.

Gabriel skips congratulations and approval. "Jackie, turn off the jammer. It can be as much a beacon as anything else, and maybe we can try to listen in now. Thomas, keep going, put some distance between us and the bare spot." In the cab, his employee nods and brings the truck up to speed. Soon, they're zipping north over the Minnesota prairie. "C'mon, Alex," he adds, as if it were necessary. The surroundings certainly do seem to be clear for the moment, with the tall grasses not providing much area to hide. Which does work both ways, unfortunately. It should be clear to everyone present that sunrise is still a few hours off, but rapidly approaching. He waits silently for further ideas and input as they move along.

Jac'lyn likes that way better. "Didn't duck that one." She sits up and reloads, then stows the rifle. The radio is switching off of its interfering transmission after that. "Jamming off. I'll see if I can find any more chatter out there. Like incoming reinforcements."

Bob is straightening up, trying to make some room in the middle of the truck. "Right, Alex." He says to the flying robot. "As soon as you rejoin us, bring it down here. Give me the body and the head. I'm not sure where the data banks that I have to access are. Could be either way. I suppose I can have a look at the very least and see if there is any recording of the prison along with what we might be up against." He bangs on the cab, despite talking over the radio. "Gabriel, do you want me to do anything in particular? You're better at this than I am -- tell me what to look for."

Alex returns to the truck at speed and just a few feet off the ground. Now being conscious about enemy radar. Once there it tosses Bob the dismembered head. "Radio, and sensors are in there. CPU, memory and power core are here." The robot explains as it unloads the two headless bodies. There are also two guns if anyone wants.

Sage nods faintly to Rasputin as the man comments, "We'll see soon enough whether that's good or bad." She comments simply, "I guess we're just looking to get some distance now... but, it might be an idea to change course at least once in case we were detected moving a certain direction." She comments.

Rasputin ponders a funny idea of tossing out a random spell just in case. He does this, just in case and tosses out a spell behind them to trap anyone who happens to be walking...

"To start? Patrol routes, schedules, troop numbers, types and units in the area. Location of a prison holding a hundred D-Bee mages, and the disposition of the compound. Radio frequencies used, and backup frequencies. Regional commander. See if you can't find me a daily passcode or something, I might need it. Sergeant Madison left her wallet in Kingsdale," Gabriel replies quickly to Bob as they move. A look at the resting energy rifles receives only an, "Eh, I'm already carrying better. But bring them too until we can bury them. Yeah, Jackie, if you can find something? Sure would help us hide." If no one else noticed, Thomas certainly noticed Sage's sage advice, turning sharply east - actually moving closer - after a few more miles of north, carrying through on the course change. The entire band stops roughly twenty miles northeast of where they'd been. Gabriel edges them just a little farther until they're sitting inside a marsh, the truck relatively well-hidden on the soft and giving ground with higher brush. No one is seen following the group.

Bob reaches down; picking up the discarded Skelebot torso for a moment. "Got to concentrate for a moment." He says to nobody in particular. He rests it in his lap and flexes the fingers of his left hand, rotating the head so that the severed neck is pointing upwards. Then he hooks the fingers of his left hand into a claw like pose as he places it over the severed area. He looks left and right as though he was self conscious about what he was about to do. "I'll see what I can do, Gabriel." Bob says. "Remember, it's just a robot. But you never know, someone might have spoken something around them. Then, If one watches his fingers seem to shimmer and then twist and flow like water -- reaching out to join with wires and flowing deeply into 'dead' systems, silvery metal twisting around the 'neckbone' and vanishing deep into the skull. Bob is very quiet during this time, sitting very still.

Jac'lyn huddles over the radio, and comments, "Lot of traffic picked up."

Alex takes its own dataport to the torso of the second bot. In this it takes up posture to largely resemble Bob. Indifferent to its surroundings for a few minutes as its systems integrate and downloads everything the Skelebot had in it memory core.

Sage seems satisfied when the advise of the course change is heeded, and simply hopes for an uneventful trip to whatever they decide to hunker down. Once they do get a moment, she does take a moment to consider what Bob and Alex due with their respective former Skelebots. It doesn't hold her attention long, though, as she looks back to the others. "Anything we can do while we're here?" She addresses mostly to Gabriel, but leaves it a little open-ended in that regard.

Rasputin looks around from the back of the truck, he puts away his pistol and draws out his shotgun with a red tint. He jumps up and looks around the left side of the truck just wanting to make sure nothing sneaks up on us.

Nothing is in the area sneaking up on the group, at least nothing that anyone can see here in the marsh. Gabriel settles on his haunches and removes his helmet in the lukewarm darkness. He smiles at Sage, "They're the experts for now. This is where I hurry up and wait for intelligence before doing anything." Then, with some eyes on the dwarven lookout, he just waits. "Any ideas, though, Sage? Good ways to get through here? Oh. We might think about covering up the truck for the day, too." He toys with one of the loose camo nets with a gauntlet.

"We've got a ton of activity," Jac'lyn repeats. Louder. The radio gets tweaked and antenna panned. "Can't tell if they're directly incoming, but I've got transmissions all over. Something big south, with air escort. Group chatter east, northeast, and southeast." She points out directions. "Squads squawking. If they aren't on to us, they've still got us damn near surrounded."

"Gabriel." Bob says, sounding very distracted. "Bring me your map." He hesitates and pauses a moment. "And something to draw with." Then he begins to speak. "Let's see . . " He muses. "The commanding officer is Major General John Constantine . . as far as I can tell, we've got tens of thousands of troops in the area. Don't have time to count them." He doesn't hear Jac'lyn. Or at least he doesn't hear her well enough to respond to. "No actual images of the facility, I can probably reconstruct a very rough idea . . but . . " He trails off. "Patrols pass by every hour. Where the . ." There is a sound here in an alien language like pigs squealing. " . . is that map? It's hard enough to stay connected, whomever coded this was an amateur. Give me that and a pen, and I'll map out the garrisons and patrols for you."

Alex disconnected with a shake of its head. "This one had hard drive trauma from having its head blown off. Not a whole lot there. I'll let Bob take a look regardless. I should check the other torso as well on the slight chance I might get more information." The robot explains, its movement suggesting it is still reconfiguring after the connection.

Sage's gaze shifts to Jac'lyn at the news of the activity, "Well, if we're just about surrounded, it might be better to cover up and see if we can avoid attention directed our way" She comments, "If I had to guess, the something large might be a transport..." She glances towards Gabriel. "And, we'll get to the plan of how to move around might have to wait for either the radio chatter or the information we have might have to be shifted through first."

Rasputin nods and agrees with Sage, "Da, da. Mink, thinkink we could cover da truck, and perhaps Alex." He looks around, "Dhen we wait for da calmink down." He thinks a bit, "Dhough, maybe's net?"

"Dump the rifles, guys. This marsh is a good spot," Gabriel says with a nod to the weak energy weapons off the Skelebots. He then waves Sage and Rasputin, being free, to help him covering the truck. Eleven sets of ten-by-ten netting? That should do it. Still, he listens intently to Bob and Alex, asking only, "Patrols to worry about?" But after that, not knowing what kind of concentration they need, he just goes about his work. The trunk with the netting is open and obvious. "Sage, do you know anything about this type are place?"

Jac'lyn doesn't have weapons to dump; others are doing the netting. "That would explain all radio chatter... I guess we're hunkering down." She starts walking away from the truck. They'll need an OP somewhere.

Bob is handed said map and he goes to work on it with his pen, sketching patrol routes and the location of garrisons. It's reasonably precise. He probably won't win any awards for his art though. Once this is done, he begins the task of extracting himself from the machine. "I can check, if you want.' He says. "But I don't think we're going to get anything out of that one that we didn't out of this one." Either way, he tosses the torso that he has finished with aside and begins melding with the other one. It takes some time, but . .

"Um why are we dumping the rifles? They;re worth money you know." Alex asks, managing to look confused by that order despite its inability to make expressions. Still he trades torsos with Bob. being thorough never killed anyone.

Rasputin looks at the two limp man-made high tech skeletons. He tries to tug his beard again and mutters. Then he does a quick circle around the hovertruck making sure nothing is sneaking up on group.

Gabriel makes sure that the map gets passed to Bob, then with Sage and others assisting, goes about hiding the truck beneath a significant amount of mottled fabric disguise that had been brought along. With the truck already sitting low in the marsh, the work goes well. His attempt to explain the rifles is explained, "Those rifles are pathetic and just taking up space. If we need to dump things in a hurry, it's probably better to dump them here where they'll get covered, and us not get caught carrying them around." After a brief break, he adds with a nod to the torso, "Yes, I realize the irony, but we're still figuring these things out." A glance is given to Jac'lyn as she departs.

"If we're limited on space, the Skelebots themselves are probably going to end up being more value. Unless someone actually wants to sit and carry those two rifles the entire way." Bob actually gives a smile, or something like that, as he moves to help with the camouflage -- abandoning his attempt to get info out of the second Skelebot. "Nothing of note here." He says, leaving it at that and goes to help with the work as best he can.

Alex shrugs, conceding to the consensus to leave the rifles behind as it unhooks from the other Skelebot without anything additional found. "Bob has a good point." It adds for what its worth before looking to Gabriel. "Next step?"

Sage was only able to accumulate items to help with the camouflaging, otherwise she was only able to follow instruction or let the more knowledgeable with regards to the camouflaging. The 'next step' question directs her attention towards Gabriel.

Rasputin continues his patrol, he almost seems a bit on edge... Well you all are now in CS control territory, right? "Da, what dis next steps?"

The truck has indeed bottomed out in a shallow marsh, perhaps eight inches of water all around, with shoulder-high grasses, bushes and such poking out. At this point, it would take luck to spot the truck, and the bipeds would have no trouble hiding beneath the netting. A giant floating robot might be a different story. Gabriel reaches out to take the map, and examines it for a moment. His face changes. Doesn't look good. Turning his eyes to the eastern horizon, he offers that good news. "It looks like we've managed to conceal ourselves right in the path of a Coalition patrol route. The next step is to make it through the day, I'd say. Keep your eyes on the sky, watch for Skelebots... hmm. Where'd Jac'lyn go, exactly?"

Bob looks sidelong at Rasputin. "I suppose... hide and wait for the patrols to settle down. Might take a few hours at least, if not longer. Might not be a bad time to rest again . . maybe in . . " He trails off at what Gabriel says. "Fantastic. I suppose if they are air units, they might not spot us, but . . Do we want to sit tight and take a chance at moving the vehicle, or just wait?"

Jac'lyn could be found. Pretty easily, too. She doesn't swear out loud when unhooking the trail of camo net that hitched an unnoticed ride on her harness, but the trail's still there. Once she gets it loose she can move a little quicker.

Alex nods at the call to wait for the kettle to be taken off of a full boil before jumping in. So needing a place to hang out till morning the bot starts carefully exploring the swamp, looking for a patch deep enough to hide itself but not so deep it cant crawl back out.

Sage makes a faint noise that suggests she's agrees with Bob's response to being in the area a patrol normally comes. "Depending on whether the patrol contains psi-sensitives... that could prove to be problematic for a couple of us." She comments, "Perhaps we should find different spots to wait it out. Our best comm person could stay with the truck to make sure the equipment doesn't get affected by our surroundings." She adds, before glancing towards Rasputin. "And, hopefully we don't have to worry about giving things away."

Rasputin looks over at Bob and Sage, "Did you be sayink dhat our truck dis in patrol path? Ground or air patrols?" He shakes his head, "Dit would be goodink bait for ambush da?" He looks around a bit, and comes closer to the group.

Gabriel makes a grunting sound at Sage's suggestion. "I understand the logic, but I think it would be best if we all remained here. Already well disguised, and concentrated firepower if something does notice us." He taps the map and rotates it so that Rasputin can see it. "Don't know. Just a patrol route. If it were me, I'd put different types of units on it through the day, so it'd be unpredictable." A quick look shows the horizon starting to glow with oncoming morning. When Alex settles to the west, just outside the netting, he asks, "If there are types to catch on to you, Sage, and you, Rasputin - not going to make a difference if you're together, will it? Unless they add up to make you more noticeable, staying together also makes it just one target for them to notice. But... we'll need some sentries so others can rest... Jac'lyn?" The last is said into the radio, as he points off in the direction she's gone. "Dammit, she's leaving a trail!"

Jac'lyn says, "No shit." Jac'lyn can say that on the comm without being loud. "And I'm on it. Walking a perimeter. Gets me away from the missie manet.""

Bob is briefly distracted by looking to see where Jac'lyn went, but he's bad enough with camouflage and the like that he can't even see the trail. And so he just hangs close to Rasputin. Russian people are better.

Alex is about as inconspicuous as it can get right now. But hey, if a bunch of bushes can hide a DeLorean for 30 years, why not a robot. It's almost as cool as a DeLorean right?

"If they're anything like the senses I have, it may be more detecting something in a direction or area... but it is hard to say whether they'd be able to tell if there are two different things or not if we're close together." Sage comments before frowning faintly as she notices something beyond the tracks, "Looks like part of the netting is laying over by the bent brush there." She notes as she gestures towards the spot.

Rasputin wanders off a little bit himself, no more than 20 or 30 ft from the hover truck. He finds a dry place and beds down in a hidden location. He just waits, trying to get some rest while at the same time ready for anyone that stumbles upon them. He says into his radio, "Da, OK. We waitink dhen? Me gettink a little rests, da? OK?"

As things begin to fall apart with no one else doing anything, Gabriel hops off of where he'd been sitting and starts to snap out orders, taking charge finally as everyone else flails about. Radio and the verbal word work well. "We have to move, we can't hide a trail like that. Pointing to us like a fucking arrow! Jac'lyn, get back here, now! Sage, grab the loose net for me. Bob, Rasputin, help me take down what we already put up. Alex? Go find a new spot for us before the patrol comes by, the sun rises or both. Thomas, fire it up. Move!" If everyone survives, people can yell at him in Kingsdale for having been bossy, but training and common sense can't be overlooked. The hoverjets start to wind up immediately as he reaches for the netting, pulling large pieces down unceremoniously and tossing them unto the bed.

Bob looks somewhat confused at Gabriel. Mostly because he doesn't understand the first thing about camouflage and was trusting everyone else to do it. " . . is this really a good idea, considering that we're likely to show on radar if we go above treetop level?" Nonetheless, he does as he's told and helps undo the camouflage netting. "

"About time," Jac'lyn didn't even get comfortable. "Was wondering if you could lead, or if anyone would follow." She backtracks and pick up her own trail. Literally.

And just when Alex thought it might make a convincing shrubbery. Oh well duty calls. The robot ascends a few hundred feet for a lay of the flat ground surrounding them. Keeping below the 500 foot radar floor it cycles outward from the camp to find a better spot. But even at his speed it's fifteen minutes before he comes back on the radio. "Real nice lake about ten miles away here, let's go swimming."

Sage likely had been wondering whether it was simply a matter of setting it up properly, but it seems that things have been sufficiently spoiled in this spot. "The tracks may still give them the idea to give this area a closer look depending on how soon they find them" Sage points out as she makes her way over to take up the loose netting. She'll move to place the netting into the truck and move to get onto the truck. There doesn't seem to be a choice about moving on. She'll likely help out with the rest of the netting to speed the process. "A lake couple be good... likely to be some vegetation around too." She adds when she hears the comment from Alex.

Rasputin mutters as he comes out of his well found hiding spot. He gets onto the back of the hovertruck, and helps Sage with the netting. He mutters to himself, but it is OK. He does mention one thing though, "Mink net likink to swimink, and mink net thinkink dis hover truck will be floatink." He makes sure everything is stowed then settles down for the quick ride.

Fortunately, the little group snaps to in record time. The truck is all ready to go and everyone back on board by the time Alex calls back with the new location. After a short time of working out exactly where they're going, Gabriel gives Thomas the nudge to floor it. Luck is on the side of those from Kingsdale, as they manage to zip across ten miles to the area that Alex had found. It is indeed a lake, but fortunately as this is not a glass-bottomed floating hovertruck, there is a large area of shallow grasses very similar to the marsh that had just been abandoned. Even deeper, as the water comes halfway up the walls once it settles. More orders are shouted out and somehow, the truck is re-hidden before the sun completely rises. He sits back down on the empty trunk and holds up his hands. "Okay. Jac'lyn, check the radios. Everybody else, figure out a watch system and have something to eat, we got really fucking lucky." His hands start to reach for the trusty cloth-draped L-20 that he'd brought along.

The day passes both quickly and slowly. Patrols come and go, everything from infantry and psi-stalkers to Skelebots and SAMAS. It's one of the later that takes the most interest in the half-sunken group, stopping to give it an overflight and loop before continuing along its path. When the sun begins to set, it's easier to breathe a sigh of relief. Not that things necessarily quiet down, but at least the visual part of searching is harder. Gabriel is awake, having been studying the map for the last few minutes.

Once more, Gabriel appoints himself as the man in charge, muttering something to Jac'lyn before moving on. "Okay guys, I've been trying to be democratic about this, but it's put us in danger twice, so no more fucking around. We'll need all the room to transfer and maneuver as we can. So dump the 'bots into the water. If we're alive, we can pick them up later as trophies. We can bet our asses that our first location has been swarmed by now, at least with people taking a look at the trail." He squeezes the bridge of his nose momentarily before giving out some further orders. "Jac'lyn, check the radio ago, see if there's anything useful you can intercept. Sage, Rasputin, get this netting down. Bob and I are going to move out a short distance to see if we can see anything. Thomas, get read to move on my mark. Everybody stay quiet, and get moving." For now he apparently feels that there isn't a lot of room for interpretation. He simply hefts the sleek energy rifle he'd brought, whose sleekness is now concealed among draping cloth, and moves off under cover of darkness with his own suit of mottled fabric laying over the specially-acquired Coalition-issue armor. "If it's clear, we can try to move in on the base."

"Got it." Jac'lyn isn't thrilled about the whole trail of nets thing, but she doesn't sound like it. The armor hides the rest. She crouches down to check the radio for nearby traffic and to see what she can make of it.

"Trophies? You do realize that fully functional one of these is worth 3 million right? And you realize that between Bob and I there’s a real good probability of doing that?" Alex queries to the order before nodding. "I agree none of that’s worth anything if we're dead. But how about we hide them in a bush or shallow grave instead of turning them into boat anchors."

For the most part, Sage has made herself as inconspicuous as she was able as her presence could potentially be detected by the most sensitive patrols. Still, it turns out to be another threat that seems to take the most interest. At least, the issue has happened to pass. "You do realize, Gabriel... missions require a clear leader... otherwise you end up with pissing contests or people doing their own thing. You use democracy for decisions where we have the luxury of sharing ideas and thoughts towards making a decision." She replies, "So, if you want to take the leadership reigns, that's fine by me... might have been better to establish that before we set out." She points out as she comes out of her hiding spot to start removing the netting.

Rasputin puts his hand on the brace of weapons on his chest, checks his weapons and nods, "OK. Da, lead da way, da?" He looks and waits for the next set of instructions.

Gabriel nods to Sage's words as he moves off. "And right you are, I shouldn't have tried to treat everyone gently. I'm in charge now." With a sleek energy rifle, he moves through the reeds and into deeper waters until they rise to just above mid-bicep. The weapon's muzzle is kept above the surface, though whether laser rifles need that detail as much as an old weapon of his day is tough to tell. Dry in his armor, he pauses and takes time to scan the skies using everything from open goggles to his rifle's optics. A few minutes pass before he declares, "Flight of two SAMAS incoming. Doesn't look like they've seen us, looks like they're heading south. Jac'lyn, you hear anything?" Alex is left to dump the bodies for now without repeating an order. "Get that netting ready to go, if these guys pass us."

Thomas is ready to fire up the engine, though he has his own set of weapons ready as well.

Jac'lyn nods. Then, since her head doesn't rattle, she says, "All kinds of traffic, but no idea what it's about. The crypto tells us it's the Coalition though. If we didn't already know they're around." Her one eye turns towards Gabriel. "What's the plan?"

"That doesn’t incentivize any of you?" Alex asks the impassive teammates before shaking its head. "Suit yourselves then." It relents and shoves the bots over the side to a watery grave. Maybe there will be more where they came from. One can hope.

Sage glances over towards Alex, "The money itself, perhaps not... what it could be used for, that is another matter." She replies, "But, I suppose we may be too worried over getting out alive with the prisoners than coming back to this spot to claim them... not that we have a lot of time to bury them without potentially draw attention." She'll hold off on taking off the netting if there's SAMAS in the region.

Rasputin follows on on Gabriel's left side, about 10 feet back on the 45 degree. He doesn't say much, but does pull out his blue shotgun and is ready just in case something icky is trying to sneak up on him.

Gabriel stays motionless in the reeds, watching the dual flight of power armor. Enemy power armor. "They call this model 'Smilin' Jack'," he informs the others. "Lighter than other units, but modern, too. We have an opportunity, though. Jac'lyn, if you think you could jam them, we might be able to lure them closer. Alex take off the head of one, the rest of us bring the other down?" He hesitates, but only to collect his thoughts. "Dangerous, but Alex seemed to say that if we were able to nab one of these things, he could jack into the entire network. Some concentrated shots on one spot? That'd work."

Thomas moves to unlimber a wilderness rifle, in case it's needed.

"I can try and jam them, sure. It'd get their attention, too. Might even pull them right to us. Awesome." Jac'lyn starts setting up the radio. "Didn't bring all these guns for nothing." If she's not going to drive, she's going to shoot something.

Alex eyes the scorches in its plating after the last network retrieval mission with a shake of its head. Coincidentally those scores start closing themselves up at the point till most of them are fixed. "I doubt we'll gain more than we did from the Skelebots but if Bob's linking abilities is like mine he could climb in and pilot it. Which could be a distinct increase in our capabilities. The risk to that is the half dozen mini-missiles that I would have to contend with. Considerable potential damage to myself there."

Sage hms softly to herself, "There is a chance I might be able to stun one or both pilots, but that would require hitting them... and hopefully not alerting one of those psi-squads in the area." She comments, shifting her unusual-looking rifle to her hands in place of the more familiar L-20 weapon. "Whether the pilots would still function well after getting hit is hard to say as well." She offers, shifting her position a little in hopes of resuming a more conspicuous position.

Rasputin shakes his head, "Net, mink can be pairink up with Alex, to helpink protectink him. But, if we can be avoidink volley of nasty missiles, da thinkink good idea." He keeps looking into the sky, hoping trying not to be spot. He is looking to see how far he is from Alex, to see if he can to them.

"If you can't cover your thermal signature, I've got a suit in the red box. Looks like a walking swamp monster, it'll hide you. If not? Do what you can," Gabriel orders. "The truck's been cool for hours." Then as Sage offers her capabilities, he asks, "What kind of range do you need, Sage? If you can help out Alex, that would be great." Though Rasputin's name isn't explicitly stated, it's clearly implied. One might hear him humming something very specific, but quietly over the local comm. "Jac'lyn, get ready to go. We'll hold on Sage and the rest."

Jac'lyn getting ready means getting dressed up. She has her own shaggy personal camouflage netting. Otherwise known as a ghillie suit. Her big rifle is laid out, too. "Ok, I'm pretty much ready. I'll try not to put too many holes in anything."

Bob is currently hiding near Gabriel, looking like swamp thing. "Belatedly, Gabriel?" He says, leaning forward. "Remember, I can directly hack these things as you saw. Though I lack any specific communications skills." He then falls quiet, staying still so he doesn't give his position away - waiting to see what happens.

"There's a good chance I can avoid the missiles. But there’s a slight chance they'll blow me to pieces. I hope you can tweak those odds little man." Alex notes to Rasputin as it moves to let the dwarf climb on. The mecha sits still a moment to let Rasputin secure himself and puts a Blinder grenade in its grapple hand. "So plan is for me to go fight the SAMAS yes? Tell me when you want me to go at it."

"Maybe I should put that suit on... unless someone can tell me what I look like on thermal." Sage comments as she decides to move over towards the box indicated unless someone else speaks up about the suit. "As for the range, if the sales person is to be believed.. this thing has a two thousand foot range." She comments, "And, I've used it on fliers before." She adds.

Rasputin makes his way over to Alex, he doesn't climb on board at start. He looks at the large robot and ponders, "Da, you sure about mink climink you?" He keeps looking at where he would stand, though it could be one hell of a ride. He looks and says what the hell to himself, and gets a hand on the vehicle and begins to look for a place to sit, "Da, mink can help with da damage some."

Gabriel takes a moment to look back to the truck. His Crusader's faceplate flips open and a set of goggles are raised, and he gazes at Sage through the reeds. After a safe duration of investigation, "You're muffled on these, so you should be safe from normal Coalition gear, Sage," he says before tucking the unit back over his shoulder again. Unfortunately, it's at that point that the dual unit banks right and toward the small, wet party. The old soldier, however, seems to have caught on to modern technology quickly enough. "Alex, they must have spotted you. Get away from us! But bring 'em on. Jac'lyn, jam 'em. Everybody else, get ready to fire on the intake above the head of the starboard flight." He raises his rifle into a firing position and takes aim, ready for a unit volley.

Thomas slides over to the passenger side, and pokes his own O.S.S.-issue weapon out the window, following orders.

"Way ahead of you. Started jamming a minute ago," Jac'lyn pipes up. Now she lies down to put cheek to stock and zero in on the incoming. "How close you want them down?" She can probably wait a little before squeezing the trigger.

Bob puts his Pulse Rifle away; reaching down and switching to his NG-45 LP, since the rifle isn't really suitable for making an aimed shot. Slipping an E-Clip into it, he takes careful aim at where instructed. Not a word comes from him though, beyond that -- and all his movements are carefully subtle to not give himself away in his ghillie suit. Look, Ma! Swamp Thing has a pistol.

Alex places one arm over Rasputin to hold him in place as the call to move comes. "I'll try to go easy on the g-forces, but that may mean a longer flight due to wider turns." The robot notes as it accelerates and ascends towards the SAMAS units. The other arm readying the energy lance. Rasputin's got a real good seat for a modern day jousting match... Which is quick to start since the SAMAS are already so close. The grapple hand shoots out just before they'd meet, Blinder in hand...

The man behind the power armor is apparently skilled, and zips aside, the arm and grenade making a harmless burst.

Sage nods faintly in response to Gabriel's comment, "Thanks." She comments simply before working her way back towards a place where she can setup where she can have a reasonable chance of being overlooked and still be able to get off some shots. Hopefully the SAMAS will come into range before Alex potentially gets hung out to dry.

Bob does not have a shot at the moment, due to his weapon not being within range. He could guess it -- he really isn't sure how far out they are, but it doesn't look to be 1200 feet. So he holds still as not to give his cover away.

"Fuck!" Gabriel growls over the radio. No, not a shout, a growl. "Alex, you have to tease 'em this direction. They're out of range," he tries to coax to someone who apparently has no grasp of tactics whatsoever. "If you just run and they live, we all die." He slaps he base of his magazine once, just to be completely sure that it's set. "Everyone, get ready for those shots on the intake, if you can take 'em."

The SAMAS that Alex had left alone swoops just barely too quickly to its comrade, a burst of railgun fire grazing past the flying saucerine 'bot.

"Away from the truck, closer to the truck. You're going to have to start using specific number man. Because from their current range they're more than close enough to shoot at you. And they love the fact you can't shoot back." Alex notes back in irritation on the comm as it turns to try and draw them closer. That means keeping itself at the edge of their weapons range. About a mile.. But as it's moving the robot can also line up a shot at a SAMAS helmet.

With the targets currently lingering away from them, Sage seems content to give a quick consideration of her area. She likely expects the need to abandon her position and checks to see if she has a way to go without drawing others into the line of fire. She also checks to see how well she may be concealed. But, her attention doesn't stray too long away from their two opponents. "I believe he means for you to draw them close enough for us to support you..." She comments, "Playing the rabbit to the hounds as it were."

Gabriel's employee looks on helplessly, though keeping track of the events using long-range optics.

Jac'lyn keeps on the one to starboard, or that was starboard, just like the man in charge ordered. At this range, it only takes a little pan of the rifle to following the SAMAS. Aiming for the small thermal exhaust port right below the main one, she finally squeezes off her shot.

There are certain nice things about both projectiles and lasers. They're impossible to see, being the part that's important right now. They're also hard hitting, if done right, which is another part in this particular equation. Jac'lyn's enormous sniper round smashes directly through the SAMAS's air intake. The jets sputter, despite its amazingly advanced propulsion system. Doesn't matter the fuel, you still need air. In this case, the poor guy in the unit of power armor gets to watch the ground rise up at him as his systems cut out entirely, plummeting to earth and hitting hard enough to create a geyser of dirt and vegetation thousands of feet from the concealed Kingsdale party.

Rasputin doesn't waste any time at all, he quick sets up some protection for both him and Alex... He casts a spell of magical protection on himself first, then on Alex. "OK, mink friend you are doink good now."

A single SAMAS unit remains in the air with Alex and a dwarf. Something that if photographed correctly, might make for an interesting page of Reader's Digest: Kingsdale.

Bob still has not been able to get a proper shot off. He does though, key his radio. "Alex, if you have time when you're done playing and you see where he went down -- bring me the rail gun and the ammunition drum for it. Might be able to help out a little bit more directly with the proper tools."

"Nice shot, Jac'lyn," Gabriel offers, always sure to pass good feelings when they're able. It helps combat efficiency. "Bring them closer and we can help, Alex. I'm guessing they didn't go for us because they can't see us." Any issues on rewards and treasure are once again relegated to later, where they belong in battle. His eye remains through the telescopic unit, keeping track of range.

"Thanks, nice to know someone thinks so." Alex replies to Rasputin as it continues backing away from the other SAMAS and lines up another shot. "Pretty sure they know you're their now. Those things don’t just fall out of the sky for no reason." It adds in reply to Gabriel before taking the careful shot.

The remaining SAMAS takes a powerful hit to the same intake area, but keeps going - directly and rapidly at Alex and its dwarf friend, apparently. Possibly?

With one of the SAMAS falling out of the sky, Sage settles into a position to be able to take a steady aim once the remaining unit comes into range. "Guess we'll be moving again soon after this is over." She comments simply. She spares a glance around, but doesn't expect any Coalition to pop up from behind a rock or tree.

"There's one." Now Jac'lyn has to reload, which isn't semi-automatic. Bolt is unlocked, breech opened, and spent ejected. A new round is slid home and she starts zeroing in on the other SAMAS. "How much do you think Prosek paid for these things? Maybe he should asked for a refund."

Rasputin holds on with the fast craft as best he can.

Bob still doesn't have a shot, but he decides to rectify this somewhat -- reaching down to holster his NG-45 LP and bringing up the NTI-01B. It will take him a few seconds to get it to his shoulder and the like, but even a pair of low damage single shots is better than doing absolutely nothing.

The remaining SAMAS having watched its comrade plummet to earth, turns toward Tolkeen and accelerates up to its maximum speed, tearing away from danger and possibly even out of range of equipment jamming its radios.

Bob still doesn't have a shot, but he decides to rectify this somewhat -- reaching down to holster his NG-45 LP and bringing up the NTI-01B. It will take him a few seconds to get it to his shoulder and the like, but even a pair of low damage single shots is better than doing absolutely nothing.

"Alex, chase that fucker down and kill it before it has a chance to call for reinforcements!" Gabriel does his best to be clear to someone who is clearly just a scientist at best.

That's bad. Rasputin can surely tell from the stomach lurching shift in direction as Alex shifts from fleeing back to pursuing. Luckily the robot is a good bit faster than the SAMAS. It won't be getting away. The question is will it reach the jamming border before the next aimed shot is fired at the intake.

Just when one might think there's a chance for getting a shot away, the enemy shows some smarts by trying to flee instead of fighting. "Well, that could have gone smoother... should we start getting the truck ready to go now?" Sage ventures.

Zig. Zag. Shake it all about. From a distance it really doesn't look like the fliers are moving all that much. Not through Jac'lyn's scope, anyway. She stays on the SAMAS by barely shifting her body weight. When she feels confident she has a clean shot, she takes it. Time to see if she can wipe the smile off this Jack, too.

The SAMAS managed to put some significant range between itself and the flying robot before another of Jac'lyn's enormous NTI rounds flew invisibly from her rifle. Neatly penetrating its target - the air intake again - the aerobic portion of the flight system starts to go. Though it doesn't plummet in an exciting 'drop like a stone' impact as its fellow, it does go down quickly into some brush with its pilot managing to maintain control enough to roll to a stop.

Rasputin watches the flying suit of armor go flying down to the ground and he nods, "Da, so what now? We just goink to keep goink, or hold up and wait?" He looks around and does his own internal check. He is barely holding on to his rifle. He scans the horizon for other nasties.

Bob is already moving by this point. "We should check out the SAMAS that crashed the first time, see what we can get out of it. I don't think that pilot survived, but I have a feeling the second one did. It looked as though he didn't go down too hard. Alex? Rasputin?" All of this is said over the open radio. "Plus, didn't Alex, or wasn't I going to hack something? I'm not a hundred percent clear now."

Gabriel makes his way out of the deeper portion of the marsh, moving to dry ground and only barely bothering to cover his tracks as he goes. "Alex, get over there and make sure that the pilot is either dead or completely unable to transmit. If he hasn't already. Everybody else, get ready to move. We'll hit the first unit to see if we can find something for Bob, then be on our way. Thanks to impetuousness, we're now officially on the clock. Jac'lyn, do what you can to keep jamming." He calls out, "Thomas, fire it up!"

"They can still run pretty fast. Better get him before he runs too far." Alex notes to Rasputin as it continues the pursuit. "Also this is likely the time when a half dozen missiles get shot at us. so keep your guard up." It adds, intent on getting close enough to grab the SAMAS.

Rasputin blinks, "Da, da." He prepares to cast an energy field as a defensive attack just in case he sees missiles incoming. Maybe he can help yet while on the back of Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. He keeps scanning the area, "Justink, givink me heads up, perhaps mink can castink protective magics at missiles."

Sage rises from her position, taking care only to avoid leaving noticeable traces of her passing as best as she can. At this point, the rifle is held in a more relaxed manner but not put away. She makes her way to the truck, figuring it's the faster way to get to the crater of the first SAMAS. She'll help move some of the netting to let other people enter.

"I slowed them down a little for you," Jac'lyn stands up and slings the rifle. It's longer than she is tall so it look odd when she moves out. The truck is skipped for heading towards the downed SAMAS. She's not going to let them just run away after taking all that time out to shoot them.

Indeed, the SAMAS who managed a controlled crash landing manages to rise enough to aim his damaged suit toward Alex. Five missiles rip toward the robot, one of the launchers apparently having been damaged in some way.

"See what did I tell yeah. Not a moment too soon." Alex notes of the impending volley of missiles before doing a loops to avoid them. Which it does masterfully. "Someone doesn’t hate me either." It adds at the successful evasion before its grapple arm shoots to grab a SAMAS leg.

Rasputin sucks down to try and make himself small, as the missiles streak through the air. He looks around at the thing firing the missiles. He pulls the trigger of his shotgun at the blast thing, he is aiming at the head with a double barrel shot, but isn't sure he will hit...

The downed SAMAS pilot swats the grapple arm away.

As Gabriel jumps into the back of the truck, he just rips down the camouflage netting without ceremony. "Jac'lyn, stay on that set and get in the truck, unless you want us to leave you here as a trophy. Keep working on making out what they're saying. Everybody else secure yourselves. Thomas, stomp it. Alex, Rasputin, take him alive, if you can, we need him!" A SAMAS pilot being spared, or used? Who can tell. The truck is ready to move toward the first destroyed unit of power armor as soon as no one is going to be left behind.

"Don't s'pose you want to loan me that nice rifle of yours to ride shotgun with while you fiddle with that thing?" Bob teases Jac'lyn, before hopping in the back himself. He seems to have some arcane ability to remain calm no matter what the situation. Apparently though he is entirely less than serious. "Anyway, let's move." He's taking up a comfortable position in the open bed of the truck.

Gabriel has said his peace, and is simply read to get moving out of the marsh, looking to Jac'lyn for some answers.

Alex mutters as the grapple gets batted aside. But it quickly recoils and fires again as the robot closes to personable range. "I always get the easy jobs.." It notes over the comm to the call for an intact PA and pilot.

Rasputin figures out a way to get his drawn shotgun back into its back holster, and just holds on to Alex for now... "Da, gettink closer, mink savink for another missile volley..."

Once more, the downed SAMAS pilot manages to whack the grapple arm from clenching him.

Being on the truck, Sage takes some time to re-arrange the netting as she waits for things to get rolling on this front. With her distance from the SAMAS, she isn't really able to do much but hope it doesn't end up noticing them before it can be subdued.

Jac'lyn probably doesn't hear Bob unless he's shouting or on the radio. She's already over a hundred yards out and she more than doubles with picking up more speed towards the other downed armor. "I'm working on it. Like I said." Truck? Why wait for that when she could be there by the time Thomas gets it started. The pistols on her hips are drawn on the way.

Having blown his wad of rockets, the SAMAS technician turns in his otherwise operational suit of power armor and levels one of Prosek's proud new large particle beam cannons at the swooping saucerine 'bot. It's an impressive shot to be sure, but far wide of actually hitting anything.

Thomas gives Gabriel a nod, and the old soldier shouts, "Go!" Indeed, the truck does go, its hover jets having already been winding up. Whatever netting hadn't been taken down properly is now ripped from the ground, trailing along like a frilly cloak of darkness as Bob, Sage and Gabriel scream toward the first suit of downed armor. It might be a rented truck, but it's a good truck, and will be there shortly.

Bob just keeps patient, holding his rifle and waiting until they near the downed SAMAS. Once he gets there, he will vault down and work some of his technological magic, but for now he just keeps still to wait!

"Yeah this is getting old. Rasputin grab a Blinder." Alex comments as it continues to follow the running SAMAS. The grapple hand retracts and its human hand opens a compartment to show the dwarf a treasure trove of grenades. One of which the robot takes and throws.

With everything but its jets working, the SAMAS unit is guided by its pilot out of the way of the oncoming grenade, using precious time.

Rasputin pulls one of his own Wilk's Blinders from his bandolier and hucks it as far as he can and as close to the Samas as he can get it. It explodes in a burst of blinding light, right next to the head of the Samas... "DA! Be dodgink dhat."

Eventually, everyone's luck has to run out. This time, it happens to be that of the Coalition pilot, as Rasputin's Blinder practically lands on the SAMAS's Smilin' nose before releasing its lasers. Of course, being in such a suit does offer some protection.

Sage quits fussing with the netting around the truck when they take off regardless of whatever is left fluttering around to make sure she has enough of a stable position to not worry about being left behind. "Dare I ask what we'll be able to keep this time around?" She ventures.

So maybe the hovertruck got up and loose quicker than Jac'lyn figured. Either way, she'll get to the SAMAS pretty quick. Both pistols are pointed at it. Just in case the pilot isn't dead and decides to try and move.

The still-moving SAMAS battling Alex and Rasputin is momentarily thrown for a loop, distracted by the flashes, though its pilot probably not blinded himself. It costs precious seconds to stagger around and shake his head, trying to get his balance back.

"How about keeping our lives, would that be good enough?" Gabriel growls in answer to Sage's question. He squats to fiddle with Jac'lyn's radio as he'd given her an order to do - as she'd asked for the chain of command - but has no luck at dialing in his search, something that he uses a variety of colorful metaphors to express. The SAMAS, still a short trip from the truck, is definitely down and not moving, with a nice Loony Toons implant in the ground to go with it.

Thomas just keeps punching the gas. Or electric. The accelerator.

"No." Bob replies somewhat sarcastically to Gabriel; though he falls silent after that. He's mostly watching the other work on the radio, and as the downed armor draws closer yet he stands up -- holding onto the hovertruck's roll-bar so he can see if he can get a glimpse of it and do a preliminary survey of the obvious damage.

Two flashes are good indicators to Alex's progress. Though things seem to be looking up. "No, dodge this." It notes to Rasputin before firing the grapple hand immediately after the successful flash..

And the large mechanical hand lock around the pa waist with a mechanical clunk. No doubt the pilot felt that, shortly before getting reeled in with a distinct pull. Remember that dream you had, where you're the salmon? Like that.

Rasputin squaks into his mic, "Alex, what you needink me to be doink? Shootink at PA or lookink for nasties? Mink can be doink eithers?"

This pilot's a fighter. Yeah, he gets grabbed and yanked, reeled in, even. But that only gives him the impetus to press the muzzle of the suit's huge hand-held particle beam rifle right up against Alex's body and pull the trigger. Even with temporarily faulty optics a press-and-shoot is even easier than a point-and-shoot at the bottom of the saucer. So what if there might be other means of protection? He's blasting away.

"Someone was going to have to ask the question... figured I'd just get out of the way" Sage points out, not seeming to follow Gabriel into the realm of negativity, before continuing after Bob's simple response. "I do have a special meeting to keep, so alive is part of what I'd like to come out of this with... but I imagine she'll be a little upset if I don't bring her something." She muses, before she begins to turn her attention to the surroundings to see how things are progressing for better or worse.

"This one isn't fighting back," Jac'lyn lets everyone know. She almost sounds disappointed. Since the SAMAS isn't moving, she holsters a pistol. That frees up a hand to see if she can get the helmet off. No helmet means no comms and a bare melon to shoot at.

Gabriel spends a bit more time at the radio before giving up and grabbing his rifle as the truck rolls to a halt. Or glides to a halt. In any case, the downed SAMAS is certainly down, and awaiting closer inspection of its non-moving form. No further comment is directed at Bob or Sage, save to say, "Grab what you can to defend us, take it apart, get ready to leave the rest. I'll talk to the guy from the other suit and figure out where to go from there."

The inside of the helmet is rather gruesome, after a necessary period of bracing, cutting and prying its out-of-shape ball off the hinges. Inside is like someone put a bundle of tomatoes and crushed watermelon inside a five-hundred pound bomb, dropping it, then on impact the bomb casing didn't break, but everything else did. Only the harder skull is really intact. The ammunition drum and rail gun appear - superficially - undamaged, but the rapid descent from the sky mangled the missile launchers and wings. This suit is worth just about nothing, save to scavengers.

The truck remains on and idling heavily as Thomas keeps an eye out for other trouble.

Bob vaults off of the truck as it comes to a halt, dropping to a crouch near to the downed power armor. A minute or two of running his hands over it and poking here and there and he demonstrates his knowledge of English. "Well, it's pretty fucked." He says. "But . . " He looks thoughtful a moment. "Jac'lyn, do you have a vibro-knife or sword that I can borrow?" He prods experimentally at the railgun, having to twist the dead fingers away from it. "I think this might work, but we'll need to get the ammunition drum out and I'm not exactly patient." He points. "If you have a second one, or someone else does, start cutting here, here, here and here." He points out three spots. "But don't cut here." He points to another one. Bob doesn't seem bothered by the gore, either. Stupid fleshba . . err, unfortunate accidents.

Alex chuckles as the particle beam fires a direct hit and does nothing. "That’s handy." It notes appreciatively before shaking its head. "Only order I have is to bring this thing intact back to the group. Not that I can't watch for enemies while I do that. Nice thing about this rig is I see in all directions." It explains to the passenger dwarf and starts heading back to the truck. Underneath its many arms get right to work in securing the cargo and holding the rifle in a non-dangerous direction. Coincidentally this puts the nozzle of the plasma thrower against the helmet's faceplate..

Rasputin nods slowly, "DA! Wantink me to try and pryink helmet off?" He says as he eyes the SAMAS being secured to the flying saucer." He doesn't draw any other weapons just yet, but just in case he puts his hand on a vibro-knife.

Sage gets out of the truck as well once they arrive at the destination, and seems to have some vibro-weaponry on her. She slips out the more conventional vibro-blade that she has on her person. "I can help out." She ventures, moving towards the place where the downed SAMAS. She doesn't seem to be too surprised at the apparent death of the pilot. She'll either pass over her vibro-blade or help out with cutting the weapon free if need be. Otherwise, if she's not needed, she'll probably just sort out the netting as there is only so many people that can work on the SAMAS at the same time, after all.

Jac'lyn's seen worse. She also has a vibro-sabre and pulls the short-blade out of the sheath on her thigh to hand over. "What about picking up the whole thing and just shake the mess out? Railgun's probably worth keeping, anyway." If she had another blade, she'd help him. She doesn't, so she steps back and helps Thomas keep an eye out.

Gabriel stands then jumps out to inspect the power armor. It doesn't take long for his assessment. "I'll help out Bob with the cutting. Jac'lyn I need you on the comm system. You wanted a chain of command, you got one. Go find me some radio calls, I need to know what they're thinking. It'll help when Alex gets his shit over here." A combination of vibro-sword and laser sword are removed form where they'd been on his thighs, and he goes to work following Bob's instructions alongside Sage.

"Mostly because I can get this working right away, I think if you'll give me a hand and I don't think anyone would have any issues with that." He points to a crack in the back of the armor. "Let's see here . . power supply is damaged, so not much there . . mostly just scrap armor plate honestly, I don't think it's worth scrubbing what's left of John Doe here out." He takes the vibro-sabre, feeling the weight of it and begins to saw with it. "Doesn't really matter what you hit as long as it isn't this line here, or the actual drum." He pauses, thinking. "Anyone have any high-test rope, or cord or anything that can hold several hundred pounds?" As he and Gabriel and anyone else work, some not pretty things are discovered. One leg is bent completely backwards, blood oozes out from multiple cracks in the armor and already the bubbling smell of gut contents is lingering in the air. Even as rough as is being done, it will take a few minutes to cleanly saw the drum out.

"I've got a couple lengths of cargo chain and my grapple hand cable." Alex offers as his shit arrives with the rest of the group Rasputin's offer to remove the helmet of the robots prisoner just gets a shrug towards Gabriel to indicate its best to ask him.

Rasputin nods, "Da, Gabriel, how you wantink do you want to open dis can?" He hopes off of Alex and looks at the bloody mess that is the other SAMAS... He shakes his head then looks back to Gabriel. "I have some rope with me as well. Some handcuffs too should we need them." Sage comments, "I've been on enough little missions to wish I had them before." She adds by way of explanation. "I'll make the more delicate cuts, Gabriel. You can work through the tough bits with that." She advises as she prepares to work in concert with the other men.

"Just remember you're only in charge as long as you know what you're doing," Jac'lyn pops off. At least she does it while she's scanning the area for traffic.

When Bob asks for rope and Sage takes place at the cutting table, Gabriel runs to the truck, leaps into the back and pulls at a long length of blue cord. After looping it over his arm a few times - and even then some of it trails behind - he moves back to the downed power armor. "Nylon rope, it'll hold a lot. Lighter than a chain, too," he says, gesturing to Alex. He asks curtly with a gesture toward Alex's captured unit, "Can you we get him out of there without breaking anything too badly? I want to talk to him, ASAP." Sure, the guy can struggle, but Alex has a good grasp, and now that his vision has cleared, staring a plasma torch in the face can't make anyone be too courageous. Gabriel's open-face helmet nods to Jac'lyn's wisdom as she moves back to the radio set.

Thomas remains as he should be - getting ready to one way or another at full speed, if possible.

"If Alex can't, I probably can. I might be able to interface with the suit and order it to open. I might be able to talk to him too, I'm not sure. Really depends on what you want me to do." He deliberately looks over at the pinned armor. By now, the cutting has gone well and Bob hoists up his prize -- the ammunition drum. It looks pretty ugly, with hacked off bits of metal clinging to it and the like, but it's intact! Mostly because everyone has been using their noggins while cutting and remained well away from it. A ghillie suit-clad hand takes the rope from Gabriel and he begins feeding it through holes and wrapping it around the drum several times. After a moment it becomes clear that he's trying to make a crude backpack of sorts for it. That was also Bob.

Alex can, with a a little assistance. The robot turns to Rasputin since the dwarf has been excellent help so far, and points a finger at him. "Pull my finger Rasputin, then take the port to the left side of the PA's torso. Up under the breastplate should be place to plug this.." The robot instructs initially. but is wrong.. "Um right side?" Still wrong.. "Oh right this ones at the hip." It finally corrects

Rasputin blinks, "Pullink your finger?" He chuckles, he grabs the finger and pulls it over and plugs it into the right hip port. He shakes his head and blinks, "OK. Da. Linkink dis?"

Sage turns the vibro-blade and begins to put it away once the cutting seems to be done as she looks to the begin to work away at the SAMAS. "Perhaps it would be easier if I tried my hand at it?" She suggests simply, content for the time being just to wander a little closer but out of the way of the men working away at the armor.

Jac'lyn works on the radio, patching her helmet in to listen to the traffic. "I've got comm traffic. Think I might've broke their crypto..." She goes quiet again to listen. "Shit. We bring extra food? We're going to have company. They got out an SOS."

Gabriel's head quirks quickly, and he drops the rope for the others to work with, giving Jac'lyn a 'good work' nod as he hurries to Alex and the power armor. "C'mon, get him out of there. As long as he can still talk and the suit's comm gear is intact, that's all I need." After a brief delays he adds coldly, "He doesn't need to live for an exceptionally long time. Just long enough to answer some questions. Alex, see if you can hack the network again, once he's down. Bob, Sage. Hurry!"

And so, the ammunition drum comes free. Bob grunts. The first thing that has gone right today. Either way, he makes makeshift straps out of the nylon rope and moves the thing to his back, adding additional reinforcement around his waist and his shoulders. It's secured in several places. Were he human, the weight of the straps biting into his flesh would be unbearable, but the silvery man manages it without complaint. Next, he reaches to the actual rail gun -- connecting the long ammunition linkage. "Nath'kltcht!" He cusses. It's an unpleasant language, whatever it is. "We nicked the ammunition feed -- might end up with some trouble here." He fiddles with it for a moment, silvery tendrils reaching out of the ghillie suit and connecting to the weapon. Some seconds later a green light winks on with it as Bob begins to supply power directly. Without hesitation then, he turns the weapon towards the lake and presses the trigger once. The reward is a soft *SNAP* of a single rail-gun round breaking the sound barrier and the short, savage buck of the weapon in the alien man's hands. "Right, then." He says, and then turns towards the SAMAS to see how Alex and Rasputin are getting on. Bob also glances to Sage and Gabriel. "Thanks for the assist." He adds. "I'll see if I can hopefully reward your efforts."

"Keep your pants on." Alex instructs Gabriel as his finger tip gets plugged into the suit. Thirty seconds later the power armor seems convinced a diagnostic tool has been plugged in and it is in need of servicing. All ports and hatches in the armor summarily open discharging a no doubt angry pilot to the ground below. "There you go." The robot says triumphantly, shaking off post-link disorientation.

Rasputin shakes his head and walks over to Sage. He says, "You doink well on magikal reserves? Because mink runnink low." He shakes his head. And looks to her and waits to see what will happen next.

"I haven't had a need to expend myself yet." Sage replies, "Take my neural mace if you we need it to use it on him." She adds, before she gets her odd looking rifle raised to aim at the pilot. "If you want to be non-lethally shot and dragged back, go ahead and run." She comments, ready to squeeze the trigger at the wrong flinch.

"Can we wrap this up? I can just shoot him if it helps." Jac'lyn looks over at the pilot then right back to the sky around them. She's not worried about this one. It's his friends that will be trouble.

The power armor pilot falls to the ground with a thump as his suit opens up by itself. To his credit, it takes him only a moment to start running east toward what might be the theorized safety of a distant Tolkeen, or reinforcements. Gabriel acts a little more quickly than the others, apparently feeling a necessity to give anyone warning that they're about to be shot - lethally or not. His long-barreled, centuries-old pistol comes out of its holster, and he lines up on the man, who sports nothing more than a pilot's jumpsuit. A moment later and without ceremony, the weapon makes only the smallest of noises - like a soda can being opened from thirty feet away - and a small round of silver flies through the air to enter the running fellow's right ass check. He falls to the ground, grabbing at it. "He'll live long enough," Gabriel states, holstering the pistol. "Bring him back here, Alex. Jac'lyn, please see if you can't get a fix on any oncoming reinforcements." If there had been any question that Gabriel had been angry and losing control, his cool and efficient agent's demeanor has once more set in like winter in Russia, with a satisfied grunt as the pilot hits the dirt.

Bob continues to busy himself with the downed SAMAS.

Rasputin takes a defensive stand around the truck. He doesn't seem to be needed for the 'interrogation' of the SAMAS pilot. He just draws his pistol and just begins to scan the area looking for things which might be coming.

Jac'lyn continues her guard vigil, occasionally checking in with the radio.

Gabriel gives Alex a 'good work' nod, as it brings the pilot over to the truck. Although he certainly looked like he may have intended on doing some questioning himself, his eyes turn warmly to Sage. "Please find out who the sergeant contacted about us, and which units are in the area. Looks like a scout platoon, but you never know. If he wants to volunteer more information, that'd be great. For instance, any other frequencies that he might expect to broadcast on." A couple of steps take him toward the downed pilot as he suggests in his Kentucky drawl, "Answering her questions won't hurt." A glance is then given to others for more detailed and specialized input on other pieces of information. "Alex, if you could try to get into their network again, we could use it."

Rasputin isn't super interested in the whole breaking into the network, so he keeps his focus else where. He does ask, "Dhough, we be goink into compound soon? Or we waitink? Mink could be usink a few hours of meditation."

Once the general information is given, Sage steps over to the pilot. She begins to reach to take off her helmet before she seems to think better of it. "Hello." She greets the man simply, "I think you'll find me the most trustworthy of this group." She adds, "I imagine we'll be caught soon enough by your friends, so it shouldn't be too hard to let us know what other units are in the area. And, are you expected to report back?" She asks simply.

The pilot doesn't argue back yet, too busy trying not to clench his wound. But neither does he seem impressed by Sage's words.

Jac'lyn keeps her eye out on the sky and one ear on the comm. The other's pointed at their captive. She says over the speaker. "If he's not going to play nice he's just as useful out cold as he is awake." He'd probably bleed slower and be in less pain that way, too. "We're going to have company soon, too." She reminds everyone about that over the radio.

Gabriel looks at Sage, but doesn't interrupt. Not until the pilot starts to open his mouth to spit and argue, he just stomps his foot down on the man's chest to put him in place. Well, almost. It actually kind of bends to the side and smacks menacingly into the ground next to the guy's chest. Trying to save a little face he adds.. "Yeah." The pilot can't seem to decide whether to be amused, fearful, or concerned, those being the general options at the moment.

Bob continues to work with his jury-rigged weapon, a neat piece indeed.

"Um actually, not trying to sound cocky, but the company will be a scout patrol similar to this one at best." Alex mentions, signaling a successful network connection. "The prison is southeast of here. And assuming Gabriel's assumptions of it being unimportant are correct. Only manned with infantry and Skelebots. If they are not correct I advise going home. But response forces in the area are quite small surprisingly. Anyone got further queries?"

Rasputin hears the conversation and watches from the corner of his eye of the 'interrogation' He sighs, "Well, mink worried about dhat." He looks back out into the wilderness, he is kind of nervous about the words 'infantry and Skelebots.

Sage takes a audible breath and lets it out. "Fine, have it your way... if you want to be a cripple or amputee, I leave that up to you." She comments before she begins to turn away from the prisoner hoping her modest attempt at good cop, bad cop may work.

Bob finally finishes his salvage work and has the railgun working to his best benefit. Turning; he approaches the conversational party. "Did I miss something?" He asks, mildly distracted. "Anything that I can help with, here?"

"Grunts are easier to outmaneuver," Jac'lyn isn't so worried about those. "So, what's the plan, boss? Are we moving out or waiting for the reinforcements?" She doesn't have much else to say or do until the word comes down.

"Great stuff, Alex, keep it comin'!" Gabriel says enthusiastically - after giving Sage a quiet shrug. Then back to Alex, "How about information on my men? And St. Clare's known disposition, I could use that. Re-entry pass-codes, anything like that. Rasputin, no time for rest, I'm afraid. We need to move fast; the slower we move, the faster we die. Now, give me a moment, please." His moment doesn't last all that long, speaking in quiet tones with the downed pilot, and one near-silent expulsion of a bullet into the man's knee that results in a loud cry. "Hey, I hear they can fix them these days. Pay attention," Gabriel can be heard to say. Eventually, he stands up and returns to the group. "Thanks to everyone's efforts, we do of course know that they know, that we're here. They just don't know exactly what, because Rocketman here only sent word of a flying saucer and unexplained failure of his friend. So in the words of Danton, 'Il nous faut de l'audace, et encore de l'audace, et toujours de l'audace.' Of course, he ended up being executed. The plan is this." He kneels and tosses the map onto the ground, sketching with the end of his silvered stiletto. "We're here. Prison's here. Truck's fast and it's dark out. Just go hell-belt for leather, get as close as we can. I can't tell what to do about the Skelebots on the way, save for what we've been doing. Jam them when necessary, and rip off the heads. If Alex can get me some info, getting into the compound won't be as dangerous. Suggestions?" He waves his hand in a circle over his head. "Thomas, fire it up again!" Then finally, he waits.

Bob is actually paying attention now; having come out of his mechanic's trance. "So, blitz it is, then?" He points at the intact SAMAS. "What are we doing with that?" There is a mild grumble from him. "It's a pity, I can interface with the combat systems but can't actually fly it. If there was someone around who could, it'd sure be a big help."

"Your men? I dunno.. Don’t even know where to start looking. But if we keep this suit we can look again later. I think we might want to stick to the task at hand for the moment. Speaking of which. If we get our butts in gear I can broadcast a pass-code that will say we are friendly and mean they won't bother checking our vicinity. I also got the Skelebot command override..." Alex offers, networking like a fiend apparently.

Rasputin frowns and mutters a bit, he looks to Sage, walks over as he checks his magazine to his pistol. "So we are goink to charge in close, smashink and grab?" He chuckles, "Perhaps we could of brought some gangers from da Dregs." He gets into the back of the truck and gets ready.

When her ploy doesn't seem to warrant any reaction of wanting to cooperate with her instead of the other, Sage only glances back towards the prisoner once but doesn't seem to have particular pride in what is unfolding based on body language. She just sighs faintly and shakes her head. One might think she gave up too easily, but she wasn't skilled in proper questioning. "It would be nice to slip in that way." She concedes, "Not sure what happens when we can be spotted visually, though... unless we have that thing providing escort." She ventures, before she moves to the truck to get ready for the assault. "Somehow I don't think that'd work quite as good as it may sound, Rasputin." She notes with faint amusement.

Jac'lyn listens to all that, but only follows a little over half. That's more than enough to make her cough. "Uh, yeah. What about reconning the place before running through the front door? Try a screen or sneak instead of a blitz?" He asked for suggestions, so she gives some on her way to the truck. "But if we have a bunch of ID codes, maybe it won't be hard at all."

Gabriel gives Rasputin a shake of his head, then Jac'lyn a nod. "Charge in close, yes. Alex says he can get us through the outer perimeter. Then we'll dismount and scout it, figure the best way in. It might be an assault, it might be an infiltration, it might be me shaking hands and asking to be let inside. It's not a smash-and-grab job." Then, "Bob, I could fly that suit for you if its intake wasn't destroyed. But I think I'll be needed elsewhere." He moves over and grabs the pilot, asking Rasputin to help load the man into the back while he explains, "In case he has any further revelations." Then to Alex, "Grab what you think we can carry and be useful. Hate to deny some equipment that might actually be worth its salt. Otherwise?" He hooks both fingers over his shoulders. "Mount up everyone, tie down and let's go. We'll stop on the opposite side of the lake from their little peninsula."

Thomas has the truck up and revved, just awaiting the word to mash the pedal.

Bob looks thoughtful for a long moment. Studying the SAMAS in question. Then, all at once he begins to strip. The railgun is thrown in the back of the truck along with the ammo drum. Then the ghillie suit comes off. Then he turns, and steps into the armor itself. Immediately, cables extrude from his limbs and there is a sudden faraway look in his eyes as the luminescent green optics go dark. Five seconds tick along. Then ten. Then fifteen. Then twenty. Right when Gabriel is probably going to start having a fit and yelling at Bob, the armor suddenly closes and the audible sounds of something coming online are heard as it begins to move. "I . . " Bob pauses. "I . . didn't think that was going to work." Cautiously, he takes a step forward. So far so good. "Flight systems are trashed, but . . " He swings the rifle around, carefully. Then opens and closes the fist of the opposite hand. His movements are not perfectly fluid, and it is clear that he is still getting used to it. " . . hrm." He sounds almost fascinated. " . . . whomever coded this was a . . . " All at once, he seems to come back to reality and crouches -- and vaults into the back of the truck. "Hrrmf." He says. "No, uh, guarantees about this coming back in one piece, but I'm not going to argue with the extra firepower."

First Bob is eying the armor Alex is still clutching with an odd look, then he is stripping. It doesn’t take rocket science for the mecha to realize the armor either gets dropped or accommodations get real awkward. So it is dropped. The fingertip is still plugged in at the hip though thank God for wireless.

Rasputin gets into the back of the truck and just sighs. "Bah, mink wantink to chargink, buttink sneakin dis good too." He just waits for the next move.

Everyone aboard, a signal is given to Thomas, who brings the truck along a turn to the southeast ready for full speed. Gabriel nods as Bob globs himself into the armor. "Interesting. Bob, you stick with me, side-by-side until I let you go. Go it?" He didn't reach the edge of a fit during the integration, but he is clearly trying to make a point of things now. The truck takes off soon after. Almost the entire trip goes by without issue. Units are heard on the radio to be zeroing in on the position where the SAMAS were downed. Then, only five miles or so from the friendly edge of the lake, a troop of Skelebots can be seen coming into view. With the Minnesota prairie flying beneath them and the overcast night above, much of the party is immune to regular optics. Gabriel, riding in the back can only call to Alex, "Codes would be good!" as Thomas continues to plow forward into their line.

The SAMAS goes to nod, but Bob thinks better of it. Instead, he gestures with the machine's right arm. "Got it." He says. "Do you want me to, um . ." He trails off; voice slightly electronic through the suit's speaker. "Bullshit I think the term is, if I get a radio transmission or get spoken to?" He doesn't know what Gabriel is planning but does have a hunch. At least, if bluffing is going to happen.

"I got your codes" Alex reassures and the Skelebots keep going. "They will ignore us." The robot reassures and they do. "And just turn off the radio bob. I've got the needed codes and frequencies." You paged Alex with 'Sorry, I should have been more clear.'

Rasputin slinks down into the back of the truck, "So, we goink to be actink like prisoners or special mercs? Or what?" He looks for one of those large camo nets, "Mabyes mink just hidink under tarp? Da? Mink short, net will notice mink?" He does have his pistol out and is pondering how to hide quickly.

"Neat trick, Alex!" Gabriel says approvingly. He then adds on to Alex's information, "Bob, if someone calls you, just remember what they said and use our radio band to tell me. If they want an answer back, just squawk static a few times." One might think that getting someone to answer questions on the move, particularly ones that he doesn't want to answer, is a difficult thing. And to be fair, it is. Unless you've done it for a while. Tied and gagged with duct tape, the pilot isn't going anywhere now. The truck comes to a hovering halt after the ring of Skelebots is penetrated, stopping close to the beach of one of Minnesota's thousand lakes. Then comes the hard-sell. "Alex, you're just going to need to wait here and do your broadcasting thing. No one's going to buy that you're anything normal. Bob is Sergeant Elroy, detached from the 2nd Airborne deployed to perimeter duty south of Tolkeen, recently attacked by an unknown force and seeking assistance. As his radio is broken, he has come to the nearest known location with decent communications gear where he can wait safely. I am Sergeant Madison Marie St. Clare, recently lost in Kingsdale, but having just arrived triumphantly with a truckload of prisoners. However, in the interest of not getting shot, I've dismounted and walked in - happily meeting up with Sergeant Elroy. I have a private - Mr. Thompson - waiting with an old vehicle to bring in the prisoners. Now, guess who gets to sit and pretend to be prisoners until a trap is ready to be sprung, assuming this works out?"

"I understand." Bob says, quietly -- still electronic through the suit's speakers. As though in emphasis, he knocks on the side of the helmet with the armor's fist and makes a questioning gesture. "Oh, darn." He says. "External speaker seems to be out too." Then he settles down, checking out the particle beam cannon and seeing if it has a full charge or the like. Bob adds. "By the way, Gabriel?" He says. "If you want me to spring the trap and open fire with this thing, point at someone with two fingers."

"Holding position." Alex confirms and comes to an immediate halt to wait for the call to charge. No comment is made on the given script..

Rasputin just slinks down into the bottom of the truck. While he resists the urge to hide under the cargo net, he does try to make himself as small as possible. He has his pistol at the ready, and hands on a Blinder grenade just in case they need to make a quick entrance or exit.

Sage takes a breath and lets it out, "I can lay down on the floor of the truck bed too, if need be." She comments, as she begins to move towards making a lower profile in the truck. She doesn't start to lay down yet, just settling into a lower sitting position within the bed where she can obscure more of her body and her armed nature.

That sounds like it leaves Jac'lyn sitting in the truck. Lucky her. It's better than walking into the base, maybe. "This ought to be good." The quicker the shit hits the fan, the quicker she can stand up and move around.

The pilot squirms a bit on the floor, but duct tape has a million uses. Noise is minimal. Gabriel checks himself over as his disguise is slapped on. Vibro-weapons, officer's pistol, bootleg grenades. Yup. He looks up to Bob in his SAMAS gear, nodding. Then to to the others. A question is given to Jac'lyn. "Jackie, can you see what you can see about the compound from here? I want to get moving before bad things start to catch up. Some good goggles in the back, there, if you need 'em. I can make out the basics from here, but that's it."

Bob is busying himself for the moment. He's checking something or other in the SAMAS's readouts. The gun appears to be full power, a stuck mini-missile in one of the launch tubes . . best glance over that one. Reaching down to his discarded ghillie suit, he takes a couple of Blinders and tucks those away. Then, glancing to Gabriel the power armor speaks. "Is my 'name' written on this suit anywhere? If spoke to, how do you want me to address myself? Or should I just pretend to be damaged? It's fairly unlikely for radio AND voice to be out though."

Rasputin does the same, and just waits. He waits for someone to tell him to spring into attack action!

Unless someone can see directly into the back of the truck, it's unlikely that someone will easily spot the rifle cradled in her lap trying to pass it off as having her hands bound in front of her. There isn't much for Sage to do but wait now.

Jac'lyn joins in on the waiting, but it's not her best thing. Weapons and gear get checked. Feet fidget. Fingers tap on any hard surface in reach. That should keep her busy for the first couple of minutes.

Before he moves off, Gabriel points to his SAMAS, smirking behind the expressionless visage of Coalition armor. He points a finger toward Bob's cocoon, and simply says, "Someone shoot out the speaker with a non-CS issue weapon, problem solved. Then catch up, Bob. Shouldn't be a problem." As his steps carry him north, he also asks over their local secure frequency, "Jac'lyn before you peek at the compound, questions. First, do you still have any kind of legitimate ID or close reference to a unit you fought with up here?" Then, "I don't suppose anyone knows how to swim, or walk real well under a lake? Get rid of the Rocketeer's clothes - don't be shy. Makes him look more like the bad guy." "I'd prefer to have some method of communications if I can manage it. I'll just turn the speaker off."

Bob also grins beneath the helmet. Of course, the toothy smiling jack grin makes him look somewhat like a maniac anyway. He is silent though, after that. Nothing else to add, really.

Sage takes a moment to check over things that she has around her, making sure she's aware of anything that might try to trip her up should a quick action be necessarily. Then she begins to look around. "I have thermal if we need it, but that might only tell us stuff that we already know."

"I don't have any codes that are still good," Jac'lyn takes a look out at the prison with her optics, "But I can swim, walk, and run, too. What are you thinking, this time?"

"Well, some of it will depend on what we find, Jackie," Gabriel replies. He hasn't gone very far on foot yet, and thus waves Bob over. "Gimme a lift, we'll move faster." His attention then returns to Jac'lyn. "That cannon of yours is a nice surprise. If I can get them to believe that there'll be a truck coming with prisoners - thanks to Thomas driving - that would be even better. But you know yourself better than I do, if you think swimming over or something is a better idea - we should talk about it." He checks the folding sniper rifle against his arm, and waits to be carried. Not like a baby, but manly. Like. Like. Like carrying a live bear. Yeah.

"I see how it is." Bob says. "I'm just another mode of transportation to you." The Smiling Jack hops off though, and slings the huge weapon over the suit's shoulder. Whereupon he bends and attempts to pick up Gabriel with one arm; and then begin to head off at a higher rate of speed in the agreed direction. "I hope you know what you're doing." Bob says.

Rasputin pops his head up a little bit, to take a look around. He isn't sure what he is looking for, but spike-headed armor and fur covered snouts are two of the things he really doesn't want to see. Though he would hope to see them first, if he does see them.

With the two of them likely to be among the last to actually see the compound(s) up close, Sage mainly looks around for what might be around. Perhaps she'll be taken for a somewhat nervous prisoner rather than a calculating ambusher-to-be.

Jac'lyn describes what she sees as she sees it. "Not much of a camp. No walls, just some simple buildings and a lightweight fence. The only thing really keeping anyone in is the guards. There's a few of those. We could just run the truck over the damned thing if we need to. Or come in from the water and cut the fence. No easy way to get a pile of prisoners out without the truck, though." She can swim in easy. They probably can't.

"Good to know," Gabriel says as he's trundled along. At least he's not swaddled, that would destroy the image. "So nothing really necessary to hit with a giant sniper cannon, huh? Wow. Be great to have another hand on hand. Then Thomas could drive Sage and Rasputin onto the compound. This is going well! Let me work on my voice, though. Hello. Hello! Hello. No, that's not right. Keep moving, Bob."

Bob continues to move as ordered, heading for the camp. "I imagine we are going to be seen and met soon. I seem to recall there being Skelebots that were going to escort us in." He manages a good pace, his own strength coupled with that of the power armor itself so that Gabriel is really but a toy as the suit jogs along at quite a good clip. "If you get us killed doing this, I'm going to beat you." Bob must be kidding, it seems. Well, he has to be given the statement, but still

Rasputin says into the encrypted channel, "Da, you seeink da power armor suits, anyone knowink what dhat suit dis?" He thinks a bit, "Perhaps, we havink plan for dhat?" He thinks about changing his weapons, but he holds fast.

"It seems to be a large one too, but I'm not the most knowledgeable about them either." Sage adds, trying to subtly indicate the direct should any look to her. She seems content to stick with her unusual rifle for the time being.

"Just the giant walking tin can," Jac'lyn shrugs, "And the other troops. If you want me to go out and circle around, I can do that." She stands up and picks up her big rifle. "That's way better than sitting and waiting."

"No Skelebot escort, Bob. Alex tried it, I guess it didn't work. But I certainly didn't complain about simply being let through," Gabriel clarifies. The information about a large suit of power armor requires one bit of clarification, answered before he even asks. "Okay, grounded, good. Tweak the plan. Bob and I still try to bluff past while you mess with their comm. Don't jam it. Just fuck with it. Then, Jac'lyn, you split and put some distance between yourself and the others. Start shooting the suit. When you've gotten its attention, Thomas and everyone else breaks toward where we are now. We start shooting from the inside. The crowd goes wild." He tries to see the thing through the basic set of Coalition armor, with none of his special optical modifications. "Well... it has no head, if that helps. Put me down in a few seconds, Bob."

Bob thinks about this for a moment. "I suppose . . . Gabriel and I can probably deal with it, given a little bit of help and maybe a long bomb from Jac'lyn or two. I'm not sure if we can really finesse this one." He turns his head, zooming in as best he can. "The head is small, and hidden between shoulder pauldrons. So I don't think we can really try to kill the pilot. I'd suggest we just hit the Power Armor with overwhelming firepower from myself, Gabriel and Jac'lyn while others deal with the rest. Rasputin, you can probably do your magic thing to help with everything else, and Sage and . . whomever can do the like." He pauses. "That's my official recommendation at least. No trying for finesse, just blow the absolute hell out of it. Hit it with everything that we've got, hard and fast as we can. It can't stand up to this particle cannon and Jac'lyn's rifle for long, big or not, let alone whatever you might be carrying." This of course, is said to Gabriel. He's never seen this design before.

Rasputin gets kind of tense. He slides his pistol back in the holster, and slides out his cane. He says into the mic over the encrypted channel, "Mink can be doink some crowd control, butting peoples should net be looking at mink. Will be usink unpleasant magiks to be scarink people's off."

Sage hms and nods to Rasputin's comment, as she reaches to grab one of her Blinder grenades. "Blinders, some aid to lead to panic and confusion, focus on targets." She comments towards Rasputin as her group seems to include herself and him... and possibly Alex should the robot get into the fray near the start.

Jac'lyn starts tweaking the radio. "Good plan." She turns the one eye on Rasputin for a second. "I'm liking the putting distance even more. All that nasty magic shit can stay the hell away from me." Then she's back to the radio to create some interference.

"There's nothing in this suit save for me and some things to kill regular folk like myself," Gabriel hurriedly clarifies as they approach the power armor. "I have what you see. They call this the Mauler, folks. And it looks like it." He quickly jumps from Bob's cradling arms. "Rasputin, as long as the infantry gets scared too, I don't mind. The prison will keep the prisoners inside. Put me down, Bob. Sage, yeah, just chuck those things every which way. Let me know where they're going, but otherwise just carpet bomb the area." He clears his throat and sets himself into what he has been observing for years as a Coalition stride, moving toward the metallic beast with Bob hopefully trailing behind. "Let's get lucky, everybody."

Bob doesn't actually have to put Gabriel down, since he just hopped out of his arms. He approaches alongside of the other, the particle cannon held in the armor's right hand as is considered standard but his finger is away from the trigger and it is pointed well out of line. There is no sign of fear from him or any outward sign that anything is abnormal. At least, or so he hopes. Despite the fact that he is moving along on the ground.

Rasputin takes in the larger power armor, he isn't happy with it. But maybe he can do something about it. Maybe not. He gets ready to spring into action, he doesn't cast the spell which he wants to cast yet. He will wait till the last minute for that one. No point in attacting attention. He thinks a few moments then in to the encrypted channel he says, "Dhough, what dis the go signal?"

"I'll see what I can do... but aside from things getting ugly quick, it would be nice to know what the signal for guns blazing or hold off for now would be good to know." Sage agrees with the mage. For herself, she begins to turn her attention towards the compound they'll be attacking. If the power armor ends up attacking them instead of the others, she'll deal with that problem when it arises.

"Radio's up. That should give them some static, garble some things." Now Jac'lyn is up and moving to put some distance between her and the truck. "The Mauler getting pissed off of falling down should make a good signal, right? I'll see if I can get a better eye on the camp before I put it down." She jogs off in a crouch to find a spot with decent line of sight, but sticking out like a sore thumb.

Gabriel quickly says across the private band, "Hold until we either get inside, or they start shooting at us. Thomas will fire it up and the closer you get, the better. Go word is 'White Sox.'" He then returns to the matter at hand. Which is a huge matter against his tiny hand. Indeed, it takes a bold or incredibly foolish man to march toward a suit of large power armor on obvious guard duty. But that's exactly what he does, stopping only when plasma ejectors and lasers large enough to destroy a Mark V are all trained on him. "You there!" he calls out via external speakers. "I need immediate access to your communications equipment, and this sorry excuse for a pilot needs his machine repaired so we can get back into the fight!"

The Mauler doesn't lower its weapons, but neither does it seem to be ready to just jump to having been given orders by a stranger, no matter what he may look like or seem to be. The busted SAMAS is also eyed. The Mauler's speakers demand identification from both people. Or they'll be taken into custody.

Bob is still keeping his weapon trained away from the Mauler, along with everyone else. Of course it would be relatively quick to put back, but . . He stands, leaning at a slight angle as though it were uncomfortable to do so -- suggesting that he's taken a blow or two inside the suit. That would fit the suit's appearance. His armored hand -- not the one containing the weapon -- knocks on his helmet and makes a pantomime question mark. Apparently his radio isn't working. He stands right beside Gabriel. The hand changes, pointing to the obvious intake damage as well.

Rasputin says into the encrypted channel, "Any sign of any supportink peoples? Other Skelebots or grunts?" He prepares to go at the command word. He ponders why the color of his socks is the idea for the code word. But he doesn't question it.

It seems there is little else left to do but sit, watch and possibly fidget as Sage waits to see how thing set of events will be resolved. She takes note of the signal that will set this particular encounter off. "Let's hope there isn't much more than that." She comments.

Jac'lyn moves up to find herself a nice little spot of beachfront property while the boys finished their drive. She lays out prone and sights out through the scope to get a good eyeful of things. Patrols and prisoners are scanned for, then she turns her eye back onto the boys. It doesn't take much to go from 'Aw, yeah!' to 'Oh, shit!' so she keeps her finger close to the trigger.

Gabriel lets out a satisfactory, if not contemptory grunt at the huge suit of powered armor. Doesn't even ask first, just starts walking toward it. "Do you see this? It look like the shit everybody walks around it? I just busted my ass getting up here out of Indian territory, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna fuck around with a jockey whose best chance in life is to shut himself up like a nun's cunt because he can't face a rifle." He waves at the 'head.' "Have someone follow me, I need to key in my ID. Why, were you dumb enough to take me at my word? I should get *your* name! Now help this man out, at least he had the balls to put himself in danger of getting shot down." Yes, the old man keeps moving, ready to pass the Mauler's side. Or be vaporized. Or maybe something in the middle.

This time, a giant metal fist comes down right in front of him. "NAME, RANK!" At least the rest of the compound doesn't seem interested. Yet.

Bob isn't sure if he should be amused, or frightened by the scene that is carrying on in front of him. He's been fairly lucky -- after all, the pilot's response to being told that Bob's radio isn't working could have been a request to remove his helmet and speak. He has faith in Gabriel, he really does. So much so in fact that he begins walking slowly, still as though hurt inside the armor towards the gate. He's taking his time . .

Meanwhile back across the lake Alex waits patiently for an urgent call of its intervention. Hopefully the robot will not be playing the part of the Maytag Repair Man tonight. That would be poor form.

Rasputin checks his gear, readying some interesting canes.

Sage takes a moment to re-arrange her equipment to position her various grenades in position for easy access. She begins to get some ideas of how she can make the best of what she has available. It doesn't seem like much attention is directed their way yet, after all.

Jac'lyn is interested in big powered armor pointing big fists. Muttering something about old bold people, she shifts her finger to the trigger and zeroes in on the skull head with no neck. If things go south, she's going to be quick to put flying metal downrange.

Gabriel gives in to the giant planted fist and rather continuing the arrogant part, tries to pull off the threatening part. Arms crossed, 'Very well. Master Sergeant Madison Marie St. Clare, previously assigned to the Blood Hawks Sniper Recon. Presumed lost in July, returning to Tolkeen with vital intelligence that *YOU* are holding up! Now while you dick around punching in my name and get my basic service record, I'm going to catch your C.O. If he or she wants to send me packing, fine! You're welcome to be the one to pick me up and throw me out!" He jerks a thumb to the shambling SAMAS. "And help him out, there are real men getting shot at up north!" Then, he resumes walking.

Apparently, something clicked, as the power armor jockey does at least get out of the way, leaving room for Gabriel and Bob to continue.

Bob also continues walking along after Gabriel; still limping somewhat. Of course, he's half expecting the Mauler pilot to really make a serious effort to stop them and if that's the case, he knows exactly what he's going to give him.

If only Alex had a deck of cards. It could go play poker with the Skelebots. Oh well no news is good news they say,

Once she's satisfied the grenades are going to be ready at hand enough for her liking, Sage is glad that the sound of weapons play hasn't started just yet. With the rest of her equipment settling into place, she think she's about as ready as she'll be.

Now that the boys don't look like they're going to be pummeled, Jac'lyn updates everyone on what else she's seen. "Other big guns are over the gate. Two manning twin railgun setup. That's the next priority after the big guy. Five grunts roaming the grounds and one on each of the platforms. All older gear." After tracking Gabriel and Bob for a bit, she pans back to the Mauler to wait for the go.

Gabriel does his best to play up on his strengths, basically that at least for the moment, momentum is on his side. A whispered, "Bob, keep up," goes over the radio. Unnecessary likely, but just to be safe. "Jac'lyn, see if you can't hit the dual mount, leave the big guy to fuss around for a while. Everyone else, be ready. Alex? See if you can't keep track of transmissions." As he approaches the two grunts at the gate, he blanks momentarily on his fake name, leading to a big of a hesitation. However, apparently the rest of the body-language disguise was good enough. "You, help him. You, I need to see your C.O. Now!" It works well enough, with one fellow going to help the SAMAS, one starting to lead Gabriel inside.

As the fellow approaches Bob, he staggers slightly; dropping to one knee before picking himself back up. He visibly shakes his head as though embarrassed with himself, looking towards the incoming fellow. He taps the side of his helmet with his fist and shakes his head again. He hears Gabriel over the radio and steps through the gate after him, though he hangs a few paces back. Probably to give himself a clear shot at the incoming man once the shooting really starts.

Alex can keep track of a transmission, that’s easy. But multiple cases seem to beyond the mecha at the moment so it decides to not sacrifice the important transmission for the sake of trying. After all, if it did it couldn’t listen to the rest of the group dying in agony..

"Da? Dink be goink now, da?" Rasputin reaches to tug his beard, but can't.

Sage glances towards Rasputin before looking towards the compound. "We'll see."

"Roger," Jac'lyn heard him and switches targets to the pair with the crew-served over the gate. The one on their right is lucky volunteer number one. That's the more alert of the two so far as she can tell.

Gabriel marches forward, but is stopped right outside the door to what is apparently the command post. The man who'd been escorting him is the one who turns to look him in the eye. Or the faceplate, rather. "Y'know, I've never met a SpecOps before. You're not exactly what I'd expected." Gabriel reaches to rub his forehead with his left hand. In a more reasonable voice, he offers, "Private, lots of things aren't what they look like these days. Now, get out of my way before the fighting gets here." Then over the special band, "Jac'lyn, please give the gentleman a reason to believe the fighting's here. Hit the gatehouse. Everybody else, White Sox. Thomas, bring 'em in. This is as far as we're gonna get. Bob, pick your target. Go."

Jac'lyn finally gets the word and tightens on the trigger. The round will get there before the shot is heard, but not before the target twitches. What a crappy time for a sneeze. A second after the slug goes through the air where the head used to be, the crack of the supersonic round comes. A hair after that comes cursing.

The crack of the rifle shot gives the guards pause. Nothing impacted nearby. If nothing else, Jac'lyn shot was a useful momentary distraction. Time freezes, but only for a moment.

And now the screaming starts... Well if Alex doesn’t want to miss out it better get a move on. So without any delay it zips off toward the prison at top speed. As it does so its napalm tank is unhooked for one arm. A Blinder gets put in another, and Beehive in the two remaining arms that can actually grab things.. "If anyone can point out a 30 foot radius that we don’t mind being consumed in plasma speak now." It notes on the com to signal its approach.

Three grunts near the broken SAMAS remain confused. A rifle report, but nothing bad happening? "Captain?" someone calls out.

One tower keeps a look out... on the prison grounds.

Jac'lyn's first task is to reload. After that she has to re-acquire her target. And hope he's done sneezing, having seizures, or whatever else has him twitching around at bad times.

Another tower focuses inward, because prisons are meant to keep people in.

All at once, Bob's voice is heard over the radio in a hoarse whisper that is designed not to carry. "Alex?" He sends out. "Get the power armor with it. I'll help you once I'm clear here. I really hope someone else is taking care of that railgun mount, though . . if nobody else is, handle that, I think!" He limps towards a building, leaning against it like he's hurt as his hand fishes out . . the Blinder that he had concealed. He tosses it underhand towards the center guard in the group of 3 that is approaching him. "Anyway, here we go folks!" Bob adds, over the radio, just before he does.. "Blinder out!"

The grenade rolls to the base of one of the men's feet, and it goes off nicely, blinding three guards right off the bat. Their screams light up the verbal airspace, and if there had been any further question, the compound is aware that the fight has come to them.

The Mauler turns, having somehow caught sight of the wounded SAMAS rolling a foreign-made grenade into a group of fellow soldiers. Its shoulder plasma-ejectors come online, and it fires at the insulting suit of PA that Bob is wearing.

Now that a target has been given, the two other ground guards move to get into position to fire on Bob. Fortunately, there's currently a building in their way.

Gabriel catches a lucky break when the soldier who'd stopped him moves with his fellows toward the SAMAS. Leaves the door to the shack clear. A quick kick breaks down the flimsy latch on it, and he steps through. Yup, there's the Captain, resting in his kicked-back chair, half-armor trying to get someone higher up to tell him what to do. A shot from the CP-30 silences the man. "Alex, be gentle, these are flimsy buildings. There's an area in the northeast."

The gate guards are actually stuck. They were ironically the ones keeping people *out*, and thus aren't prepared to turn their railgun mount in. Rather their light rifles have to satisfy, as they put two bursts onto the SAMAS.

One tower fires at Bob, but misses, in its excitement.

With the signal given, Sage shifts to a position where she better move when the time comes. For now, she's content to let the vehicle be a hindrance to anyone shooting at her. She decides against the Blinder for now as she tucks it away and gets her special rifle ready as it will be the first thing to get in range.

Alex has a nice aerial view of the situation as it zips onto the scene. Moving across the camp in a roar of hover jets. As it does three packages are delivered. One Blinder south of the railguns to not hit bob. One napalm p canister to the feet of the mauler. And one beehive grenade to the canister. There's a flash bang..

The Mauler doesn't even flinch as the weird canister and grenades are hurled its direction, just plugs away with its shoulder-mounted plasma weapons as Alex continues on. The two guards are caught together in the Blinder's effect.

Though the power armor doesn't look good, it really doesn't look that bad, either.

Thomas keeps his foot on the pedal. They'll arrive momentarily.

Rasputin moves eagerly forward to try and look over the cab. A cane is pointed toward the two men attempting to round a building and get Bob into their line of fire. A few words are spoken, and the two men go down to their knees, crawling blindly in terror.

The blinded guards just start firing wildly, one of them off to the distance, one of them holing what may be a prisoner building, and one of them possibly snagging Bob's suit again.

One of the men in the tower hears the truck coming, and opens fire, nailing the front and putting a very significant scar across the hood.

Jac'lyn fires off a shot hoping that Sneezy's allergy meds kicked in this time. She doesn't worry about the last shot. Maybe everyone else will forget about it, too.

The enormous kinetic round makes a huge impact on the man's head, but he manages two things; first, to not die. Second, to not even fall over. Though someone's gotten his attention, even if he hadn't already been blinded by Alex. As they said before the Apocalypse, 'Sucks to be him.'

Another guard sees the truck! But thankfully, blows a nice hole in the water next to it.

Bob turns; taking a couple of rifle shots against his armor as he does. He really doesn't mind sacrificing the SAMAS for the good of the mission if it comes to that. Success before profit, that is the important thing. Either way, the damage is ignorable -- for now. It'll add up. The burn from the Mauler's plasma ejectors is the worst though -- sizzling a neat hole into the Smiling Jack's shoulder. Now with three of the guards out of commission and Bob's Smiling Jack back-lit by the green explosion of Alex's Napalm-P Canister, Bob takes a step back behind the corner of the building to try to keep himself shielded from fire from some of the towers. That does not stop him from raising the particle beam cannon with a snarl; peering down the sights and uttering an expletive in a harsh language that sounds a little bit like a Klingon screaming in pig-Latin. "Tzilmahcht." He offers as his finger tightens down on the firing stud. The reward is a consuming verdant green reeeeeeeeeCHOOM from one of the most powerful particle beam weapons in all of North America, aimed straight for the Mauler's center of mass in a tight beam of energy. "Keep the infantry off of me. I'll handle the power armor from here. What I can't handle is ten other people shooting at me too. Get them. I've got this thing covered." He would wave to the Mauler to try and get it's attention, but he figures that CTT-P40 is going to work a good deal better. After completing saying this, a green light appears on the weapon to indicate that it has cycled and he lets fly with a second iridescent green beam.

The Mauler just stands there and takes the hits, firing back at Bob faster than he can even hope to dodge, both of those big blue plasma blasters firing away, nailing the already-busted SAMAS.

The Mauler continues to fire away at the SAMAS, ignoring Alex for now. Who knows, maybe espionage is considered more insidious that being a giant killer floating robot. One plasma weapon misses, the other nails him.

Gabriel has accomplished his mission, really, and isn't shy about letting it be known across the radio band. "We're clean, if you can take out the power armor. Nobody got off a broadcast." He sticks his armored head out the door, pistol raised. No useful targets, really. Oh, except for that sonofabitch who just cost him a great deal of money by scarring the truck. The CP-30 is raised - thank you, St. James - and he plugs away at the platform three times in rapid succession.

One of the tower men is split three ways, but eventually plugs away at Bob again. Mages are insidious and do this damnable trickery, it must be another one, right?

"Hope no one's planning on climbing the fence with that vibro-wire." Sage reports simply, "Stunning tower guards." She adds absently as she tries to snap a couple quick shots at the guard in one tower than the other on her side.

The two other guards take hits from Sage's strange weapon, dropping their rifles and grabbing their heads as they start to wobble around. Good thing the platforms have railings, or it could be bad.

"Pyre's lit guys. Let's get these dogs on the grill." Alex suggests as its grapple arm launches out to snatch the stubborn railgunner not already nearly dead and toss him into the fire. "As a suggestion, everything in this inferno won't be able to see thermal with shit for a few minutes. So if we throw some smoke grenades around the barby and set up a perimeter we only have to shoot anything that manages to crawl out alive."

One gate guard is summarily disposed of in fiery plasma.

Thomas has jumped out of the truck, leading with his rifle. A nice pulse is placed on the same man that Gabriel had shot. Making his boss proud.

The man, shot by three times by one special agent and once by one special operative, collapses in his little tower, armor plugged with holes, and body thoroughly destroyed.

Jac'lyn just now picks up that the guys at the gate aren't seeing so well from the flashbang. Same with the others near Bob. Since he said he'd take care of the Mauler, she tracks over to the guards on the far side of the compound. The ones on the ground that haven't engaged anyone yet. She quickly reloads and fires off a round at center of the western one's mass.

The Megalodon round punches through the light Coalition body armor. Not perfectly, but just barely. Just barely being sufficient to kill a man.

Bob is taking fire from several directions, though it is slackening as others engage and stun the multiple guards around him. The Mauler is shot by him, but it repays the damage in kind -- the chest of Bob's Smiling Jack exploding in a sea of plasma and slamming him back against the building. The armor holds, though. Pushing himself away, Bob raises the CTT-P40 and takes aim at the Mauler's center of mass. "All right." He says, calmly. "That was impressive, I underestimated you. My turn!" This time, the powerful green beam barks three times in rapid succession.

The Mauler's concealed missile launcher comes up and fires three rockets, but the damage inflicted by Bob's shots makes them fly wild.

It's not in good shape, but apparently its operator intends to go down fighting.

Again, the launcher belches a trio of missiles, only to have them slam and detonate loudly near the SAMAS, leaving a huge crater. A good thing not to have hit, indeed.

Gabriel looks around, finding himself without any targets that aren't stunned, blinded or otherwise incapacitated. Seeing Bob taking hits and dancing around further shots, he opens up on the Mauler. Sure, his little pistol doesn't look like much, but every little bit helps.

The three shots poke and tear at the great metal beast. Then? It falls silent, slumping like a great bipedal security 'bot out of the ancient RoboCop series. "Present papers?" Nope. Gabriel can be heard to laugh over the radio. "Wow! Good thing I kept it! We got anyone else up and fighting?" He takes a moment to swap out the now-empty E-Clip.

One moment there's the flury of fighting before Sage can't seem to find an enemy that seems to be actively fighting them. "There's a vibro-wire around the top and bottom of the fence." She repeats, "So either make a hole or let's get this truck around to the gate, find those prisoners and get the heck out of here." She suggests simply as she scans for a potential target.

Alex's grapple arm turns and fires to collect another helpless grunt. But the robot is not oblivious to the fact no one is shooting anymore. Seems they've already won.. As such it takes a second to remove anything of value from the grunt before throwing it to the fire.. A pile will surely accumulate by the time they are all dealt with.

Gabriel's employee gets back into the truck and stows the rifle, getting ready to move.

Rasputin starts to move around, gathering from the soldiers as well.

"Wow." Jac'lyn says after she drops the one guard. "There's not much else moving out there. Wasn't it supposed to be hard?" Sure, she could shoot one of the blind or stunned soldiers, but why? That'd be cruel... to her wallet. Ammunition isn't free.

Bob hesitates. "Can't . . we disarm them and gather them up and tie them up or something for their relief forces to find? I'm not adverse to killing when I need to, but it kind of doesn't feel right to throw helpless people on the fire. We have any chain or anything that we can use? If we -have- to shoot them . . " He trails off. "But I'd like to see a better option."

Gabriel gives Bob a curt and definitive, "No. They saw us, they heard us. They go, or we never get a chance to do this again. Take off their gear, tie them up. I promise it'll be quick. Someone blow a hole for Thomas to get in here." He then waves around, "I don't see any other transports, no. Sage, you and Rasputin probably have a good touch with the prisoners, get them out. Alex, see if you can raid the computers. I'll get when intel I can. Let's go everyone, clock's ticking until someone comes out to see why no one's talking back to their hails."

"I have rope and handcuffs if you need them." Sage comments simply, "I might be able to cut a hole in the fence myself." She advises, "Might be easier to cut the hole than to blow it open." She adds, before stowing the rifle in favour of the vibro-claws she has with her. Wolverine impression anyone? Assuming no one blasts a hole in the wall, she'll take care of the vibro-wire first before hacking a truck-sized hole in the fence before proceeding into the place to search out the prisoners. It isn't too hard to figure out which buildings when she turns her empathy on.

"Well a shot to the head is better than burning alive right?" Alex offers with an indifferent shrug. It then nods to Gabe's order and move's to whats left of the hip of the Smiling Jack and retrieve the finger jack. From there it takes the network, literally copy pasting the hard drives. Moving on to the next building it checks the armory..

Thomas is all ready to go, and Rasputin is moving to assist Sage however he can.

Jac'lyn now gets up and heads for the camp. If she could walk on water it'd be a quick, straight shot. Too bad she's not that good. It'll take her a few to get there, but still plenty of time to help with the mop up.

"I see." Bob says. It is not a happy sound at all. He works essentially double time, gathering together the various stunned individuals and pulling their helmets off -- doing a basic job of tying them before heading for the armory as well. Clearly, he wants no part of this.

Gabriel does a little work on the compound, apparently not concerned about Bob's feelings at the moment. Particularly as there have been no other complaints. A plasma grenade is hurled toward the fence, where it detonates nicely, leaving a gaping hole for the truck and everyone else. Safe, too. No wire. When Thomas pulls in, he starts breaking open some of the trunks. That contain at least fifty sticks of dynamite. "We won't be leaving much," he comments.

For the time being, Sage focuses on opening the prisoner buildings that she seems to find easily enough. She figures the others can handle the gathering of equipment and information. She just wants to get the prisoners out and get out of here. If she happens to stumble across a shiny that isn't a prisoner's, she may well pick it up but otherwise she stays focused on her task.

Alex emerges from the armory with all it can carry in munitions. Any merc would have a smile a mile wide. The robot is all business though as it hauls the cache towards the truck. It will hold onto it all till the prisoners are safe and don’t need the truck though.

It takes about twenty minutes for the de-maged D-Bees to be herded south. An open area is quite free, even for the gear that might come with the rescuers. Gabriel taps a small communicator, and as the group holds a perimeter, things happened in the distance. Soon, a number of enormously huge helicopters appear, and everyone is led on board. Even the truck fits in one of its cargo bays. Upon liftoff, the old soldier looks back, and gives the short words, "You might enjoy this." Some short time passes, and then fifty sticks of dynamite go up at once, leaving little behind, and certainly no trace of who was there. Including the guards. The flight to Kingsdale is an easy one.