Nerrone's Rangers IC

Xol turned in his seat to face Bor. Pointing out the window, he said, "You see that ship? That ship represents no pay for us if we don't complete this new mission. It also represents a huge military willing to hammer down hard on our asses if we try and leave the atmosphere. Cutting our losses at this point means sticking around for this extra mission."

Bor shook his head. "That battleship doesn't seem interested in us; I doubt it'd intervene if we left right now. But if we try to enter the city, it might consider us a threat. And I'd rather come away from this broke than dead."

"Me too, but we don't have much of a choice, now do we?" Xol paused. "If you really want to keep yourself out of harm's way, maybe you should stay here with the ship while we break in to the facility. Someone will need to anyway."

((Read the OOC about Hutch's upcoming plans, effectively I've just set it all up for him, assuming Bor stays on the ship.))

Rhak had crossed his arms over his chest. He had already come to the same conclusion that Xol had. He turned to Kwa and Dagon.
"You got any good plan or a beginning of one?"

Bor stiffened. "I am not afraid," he said coldly. "I just don't think that we have a realistic chance of getting out of there alive, given our current condition. The Lacuna is barely flyable, several people are injured, and now we're going on a hopeless mission that will probably get us all killed. What good is money when when we're dead?"

Flank turned to Bor, and answered his rhetorical question. "If you've got any kids, they inherit it. If not, then it's no good at all. It just makes us strive to live, at least."
He then addressed Rhak. "If you're going anywhere, I want to come with you."

Everyone was having a difficult decision to make. If they took the mission in their current state, they might not come back alive but recive the pay. On the other hand, if they turned down the mission and find somewhere to get proper medi supplies, they will not recive the pay. Even Chalen had no idea how the choice will turn out but if the others vote on taking the mission, he'll accept it despite his own choice earlier moments ago. Bianca Vorpal is hoping the others do accept it. Though she was still suffering from her injuries, Bianca is determined not to let that bother her. They both waited for the final results.

Rhak looked at Flank while waiting for an answer from the founder of the mercenary group.
"I'm not going anywhere, sorry. I would just slow down the rest of the group."
Rhak turned towards Bor.
"This is right now our best shot. I want out of this mess as much as you, but we need to think here. The Lacuna isn't fit for interstellar travel, we've gotten to much damage. We need it fixed first, but now the Kingdom is invading and that means that they'll find us sooner or later. And I don't think they're as nice as the Coalition."
He turned towards the rest of the people in the cockpit.
"We need a great hacker. It would be best if we could turn the automated deffence systems against the Kingdom. Not only does it make a good distraction, but it will soften them up, hopefully. Anyone up for the job?"

((Apologies for my absence this week.))

"The enemy's control over Sapphire Point isn't total," Dier's voice broke in over the comms, "Their efforts concentrated on cutting the facility off from our network, rendering it useless to us, and then on activating the interior defenses. Our recon team managed to override the door locks, so there shouldn't be much to stop you moving through the building however you like, drones and turrets aside."

Kwa addressed the group — a flickering 3D schematic floated on the air behind her, courtesy of the Lacuna's holo-screen. Sapphire Point could have been mistaken for any of the silver spires at the centre of Santa Frerraro: a tall, slender building that tapered to a point at its peak, surprisingly elegant for what was supposedly a military emplacement — a more functional-looking set of walls and checkpoints ringed the base of the tower, within which stood a solitary landing pad.

"The main control hub is at the top of the spire," she said, "Once we find our way up there, we should have all the information we require to restore the facility to operation. I see a set of main doors leading to a large foyer, from which we may access the grav-lifts and staircases in order to ascend. Automated security will be a problem though."


The Lacuna continued its descent towards Sapphire Point; apparently the enemy strike cruiser had little interest in the crippled, lightly-armed vessel scuttling across its sensors, and instead concentrated its efforts on the squadron of combat fighters that had just been deployed against it. The air echoed with the cracks of the cruiser's defense turrets sending bolts of plasma at the new aggressors, interspersed with the occasional thunderous rumble as another bomb was dropped on the city, turning a little more of Santa Frerraro into ash and rubble in a yellow-green blaze.

"You should land inside Sapphire Point's perimeter walls," the Governor advised, "There shouldn't be any immediate danger, and I've had an acquaintance of mine leave you a package there that I thought you might find useful."

"Oh, well, OK." Flank said to Rhak. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling slightly embarrassed. Flank turned his vision to the strike cruiser as the Lacuna chugged past it, and glared at it.

The only time he had battled a vessel of such magnitude was during the war on his race's planet. He was an Admiral then, and he managed to tear two of the invading ships out of the sky by shooting one in the engines and sacrificing his warship to collide into the other, somewhat short of a kamikaze.

He was decidedly short on warships while he studied the strike cruiser from the Lacuna cockpit, trying to devise some other way of bringing it down, if the need arose.

Grecsh was in his compartment, suiting up for their upcoming mission. He opened up a box that he had carried with him from the Ponderra, lifting out a shielding device that he had never used before. It was supposed to hook onto his current armor setup, but on his back. After fiddling with it for a few minutes, he managed to get it hooked up to a socket under an unhinging plate on his back. Flicking a switch on his wrist, he heard a slow whirring noise that turned into a peaceful humming, emanating from his new equipment.

It was a low-power, form-fitting shield generator, designed to protect the user from light gunfire. It could protect him from two or three heavy explosions, but it would short out after too many hits. He had heard that some higher end dealers could modify the setup to give it a longer life and more protection.

I just had to remember this after we were at the market in Santa Frerraro...

((Edit: If anyone is wondering, I did mention this shield generator in my character profile for Grecsh, I just hadn't mentioned in IC.))

Back in Quark's quarters, Quark found himself stirring and when he woke up to see the shredded hole in his roof. He also noticed a bit of a commotion aboard, so he put on his lab coat and got his tools. He seemed a bit mad due to the fact that he had just gotten a nap, and that he may have even morerepairing to do. Also his ship improvement plan would once again need to be postponed. Aside from his annoyance, he decided to first contact Kwa through his com. saying: "Kwa, it's Quark, I'm sorry for any inconveniences I may have cause on the last mission, including 'Cuna, but I noticed a bit off commotion, and I was wondering if everything's OK."

((Sorry for my absence and sorry if this post is a bit weird, but I needed a quick jump-start back into the story))

Zeriax threw his pistol in the air and caught it again in a gesture of 'I only wanted to go home, not be a part of a garage band'. He set his gaze toward Kwa.

"I knew you would try to keep me here, babe." Zeriax grinned. Zeriax suddenly became serious as he looked at the team. "What now? Do we have an actual plan or are we just going to rush in like idiots? Because that's what I hear you merc types do." Zeriax said, mocking all mercenaries in general.

Zeriax never really liked mercenaries. From his experience mercenaries had no skill, no precision, always risking the lives of the innocent just for money. He hoped that they weren't the same. That's why he had quit being a hired gun and decided to be a rouge assassin in the first place.

Flank sighed. "Not that this isn't exciting, but I'm stagnating." With that he walked away from the cockpit and headed toward the aft bathroom. Shutting himself inside, he began to pull his armour off in pieces, some taking longer than others after being glued to his skin with dried blood. Then, he shoved a cork from his backpack into the barrel of his cannon and got into the shower.

The hot water almost sent him to sleep, but the constant RAP of it against the metal parts of his body kept him awake. To his relief, the accumulated filth washed off his body easily, turning the water a dark red brown.

When he was clean and dry, he took a worn-out cloth from his backpack and a tub of metal polish, and dipped the former into the latter. Using said cloth, he rubbed down his cannon barrel, protective shield plate, scope, tail, chest lens and back plate, leaving the gun metal grey surface shiny and pristine.

By the time he stepped out of the bathroom, he could have passed for a different Ravis.

Celdryc wasn't too concerned with going on another mission so soon, seeing as he hadn't been injured much during the previous one, and this mission was neccesary for them to recieve payment. He did feel a bit bad for those badly wounded though. He turned to Zeriax. "Well, I've been a mercenary for a long time, probably longer than you've been alive, and I've never rushed into something unprepared. I believe Kwa just explained our plan of getting where we need to be anyway, we just need to dea with whatever may be inside"
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IO switched his AA gun out for his rocket launcher, seeing that the ships seemed to be completely leaving them alone for now. Using the rocket launcher, he would still be able to deal some damage to ships if they suddenly decided that the rangers were a threat. He winced in pain a bit as he used his arm, as he had gotten a nasty burn from the Aegraa in the previous mission. He also adressed Zeriax. "Well to be honest, as long as we know where we need to go, charging in like idiots isn't that bad of an idea in this situation. But we had a plan last time, and all thats left to plan for is any security there is in there."

Rhak put his head slowly in his hand.
He could not phantom how they would do. He himself could not come up with any thing without the maps for the facility.
Maybe the assasin was right. He was surrounded by brutes.
He took out his gun, checking the magazine and unplugged it. The compressed air would still make a loud noise.
He raised it over his head and shot.
A loud bang echoed through the cockpit.

Bor whirled around at the sound of Rhak's gunshot. What's he doing?

Kwa turned to Quark, and motioned towards the cockpit as she stepped out, leaving the schematics of Sapphire Point for everyone else to study.

"See for yourself."

Presently, the Lacuna closed in and began its final approach to Santa Frerraro: the silhouette of Sapphire Point grew rapidly, and soon they had left the worst of the chaos behind them. The landing pad within the facility's outer walls was the most elegant they had yet touched down on: not ornate, but with a kind of smoothness in its design that bespoke thought for presentation as well as functionality. Sapphire Point was more than just some military base: there were paving stones on the tower's approach in place of concrete, and in the middle of a small square in front of the main entrance stood a larger-than-life statue of some aloof military commander, wielding a stern expression and a ceremonial sword aloft in one hand.

All this could be seen from the bottom of the Lacuna's landing pad as it descended. As she stepped out onto the ground, Kwa's ears strained to try and detect the sound of running water, to betray some kind of fountain — the ugly kind, she imagined, with chubby naked bow-wielding cherubs spewing water out of their mouths for no regularly apparent reason. Thankfully she observed no such thing, and silently acknowledged that at least the architects had known when to stop.

The one inconsistency in this landscape was a mid-sized metal crate that had been laid out nearby, kept closed with a pair of clasps but apparently unlocked — roughly four feet long, two wide and two tall and picked out in white paint.

Celdryc gave Rhak a quizicle look, then followed Kwa out of the ship. "Nice place" he muttered as he looked around. His eyes fixed on the box. "Whats that for?" he said aloud and pointed to it.
____________________________

IO looked at Rhak as he fired his gun. "You know, a simple 'Hey guys, listen up' usually works." He said to him. When the ship landed, he exited into the courtyard looking area. He too soon noticed the white box. "Strange, that looks like some sort of container" he announced. "Whats in it?"

Flank left his backpack and rifle on the Lacuna, since he figured it would be easier to move without the extra weight, and that he'd just carry anything he wanted to keep, if he found anything. As he stepped out into the well decorated courtyard, he mumbled to himself: "And yet, this place is still intact..."

As the white metal crate drew his attention —which it certainly would have— a host of questioning possibilities as to its contents swarmed his mind. Weapons? Ammunition? Medical supplies? A telescope? Maybe some sort of flying machine? Whatever it was, it certainly kept him curious.

"Governor?" Dagon asked.

"Ah, yes," their benefactor's voice stammered; it had taken less than a minute to patch Dier's comm-channel into the Rangers' network. Now everyone on the team was able to hear and communicate with the hapless politician through their remote headsets.

"My associate in R&D seems to have come through for us. I have to say, I'm going to owe more than one person a really big favour for organising all this — assuming the city isn't ashes in the desert by sundown. Err. Well, help yourselves."

Grecsh spotted the crate soon after Celdryc and Flank, and he rushed out ahead of them, remembering the governor having mentioned some form of aid in the crate. He decided to wait for Kwa or Dagon to give him the "okay" to open the box, but when one of them did, we was ready to tear the thing open.

Xol shut the ship down as they landed, making a quick stop on his way out the back. He grabbed his Zeafly recon bug, its new arsenal still waiting to see a debut opportunity. His vision blurred for a minute, a clear sign that he hadn't fully recovered. He clambered back out into the hall and spotted Zeriax. Still not sure what to think of him, Xol walked over to the newcomer and said, "So I assume you're planning on coming along with us? Staying with the ship clearly isn't a possibility, in case you were considering it for some reason..."

"Okay guys, gangway!" Dagon pushed through the group and down the landing pad, hefting a large rusty crowbar in both hands. He approached the crate, hefting it menacingly. The container looked suitably intimidated by the display.

"Alriiight..."

"Dagon?"

"Yes Kwa?"

"Clasps."

"Ah... Right. Yeah." He deflated a little, and grumpily threw the crowbar aside with a loud clang as it became clear he would not need it. Instead he reached out and undid the clasps on the white crate, and its lid sprang open readily. He peered inside, and let out a gasp.

"What? What's inside, Dagon?"

Dagon turned his head to face Kwa, a look of singular awe and wonder on his face:

"Boxes, Kwa. This crate is full of boxes."

"..."

Audible ellipses are, of course, physically impossible to vocalise due to their very nature as a lack of sound. Kwa, however, was not one to let physics get in the way of displaying annoyance. She could engage in whole conversations with only a frown and various flavours of silence. They were long, uncomfortable conversations for the people on the receiving end.

"No really, let me just— nngh." Dagon grunted as he lifted something free from the crate. It was, perhaps unsurprisingly, another, smaller box; one of seven identical objects arranged neatly inside. Each was, on the surface, a one-foot cube made of a polymer or ceramic material of a sterile white colour that almost glowed in the morning light. On their topmost faces, each bore a smooth black pad roughly in the shape of a hand, and on another side a series of warning labels: Radioactive. Biohazard. Property of Las Thaddas Central Bureau of Medical Research and Development. Apart from these markings and a pair of indentations on opposite sides to act as handles, they were almost featureless.

And as Dagon found out lifting one out and placing it on the ground, they also felt like they were made of lead.

Rhak had simply shrugged off the comments from the other mercs. Instead he limped towards the box, and saw the smaller sterile white boxes.
"Experimental technology?" He asked and immediatly frowned for his stupid question.
"Biohazard? We're sure it won't affect us?"

Flank stepped forward and lifted one of the small boxes out of the crate. He held it up to his chest where he could see —a bizarre action as always, because he aimed his head at it as if he could see with it— and peered over its faces. He also gauged the weight.

"Well," he relayed his thoughts to the air, "it's not a snack." Turning to the others, he spoke what next came to his mind. "So... what? These are supposed to be radiation grenades? We're going to radiate some security to death?"

He decided that he wouldn't open the box to check. He hadn't had any near-death experiences with radiation that he could benefit from, and frankly was yet to have any experience with radiation. All he knew was do not touch or eat, and that served him well through his life. He continued to roll it over in his hands, staring it down with eyes he didn't have.