Foresight and planning!? Wha...?

If the party turned tail and ran would they be able to outdistance the zombies and would there be any repercussions for just turning tail?

If that something that you want to pursue I will put those tables together for you and get them to you.

Despite all his precautions, however, it is by pure luck that Lanur is not discovered. Perhaps it is a particularly violent burst of wind rustling through the trees, or perhaps it is the incessant chirping of nearby birds cautiously eyeing his passage through their territory, but Lanur does not detect the Whitecloak until he nearly steps on him.

As the woodsman traverses the edge of a large boulder, he is blasted by the trumpeting of a sneeze and immediately drops into a crouch. Perhaps twenty feet in front of him is a Whitecloak. Acting more by instinct, Lanur sinks into a prone position and presses himself into the ground, quietly digging himself into the underbrush. 

Looking up from the handkerchief that he had just sneezed into, the Whitecloak's hand shoots to his sword. "Is someone there?" He calls, cautiously stepping forward. He is a tall and slender man wearing no helm, but outfitted in bright, ostentatiously shining armor partially obscured by a pure white cloak. His face is bony and hard, and his narrow eyes cast about in front of him, searching the forest for the figure he thought he saw. Step after step he moves closer, his hand still clutching his sword hilt. Step, step, step.

"By the order of the Children of the Light, if there is anyone out there reveal yourself!" He calls loudly, causing birds to uproot themselves from their nests and take flight. But he moves no closer, which Lanur is thankful for, as he is close enough for the wild man to reach out and tie his bootlaces together if he had so chosen.

Apparently deciding he had seen a large deer or another such animal, he turned and began to walk a path perpendicular to the one of Lanur's approach. He walks in a stiff manner, keeping his head straight ahead of him and taking precise militaristic steps. As he walks away, Lanur can't believe that he hadn't heard the buffoon sooner with the racket he makes, stamping on twigs and clanking his armor. But now that he is down, Lanur can hear many other noises that are not native to the forest. Some study of the woods reveals that not too far off the trees clear and five straight rows of ten white tents are posted equal distance apart. Lanur can hear horses too, whinnying in distance. Yes, this is most definitely the Whitecloak camp.

Glancing in the direction that the White Cloak had gone, the woodsman makes certain that he is in the clear before performing a slow, methodical belly crawl through the bush to the edge of the clearing. There, doing his best to camouflage himself, he takes up a position of surveillance. That's a lot of tents, he wonders without the education to put actual numbers to them. A full herd... this is no small posting. Marking the sun's position in the sky, he begins taking note of their movements. Patrol assignments, exercises and drills, officer appearances and which tents they frequent (of those he is able to see from his vantage), and in doing so he also begins to form a mental layout of the camp much in the same way as the mental maps he makes of his traps and the dens of the creatures in the woods where he spends most of his time.

His is not a position of diplomatic confrontation. He's never been good at playing at barbed and loaded verbal sparring, manipulating pompous nobles with words and negotiating deals. But woodcraft, scouting, understanding the nature of creatures and beasts... this is his domain. This is where he is comfortable. 

Once he is confident that has gathered all of the useful information from his current position, he backs as quietly as he can into the woods and makes a wide berth to the other full point on the compass. There, he sneaks about until he makes out a good observation point with sufficient cover to hide within and once in position, repeats his objectives from the first position. And again at the next point of the compass, and the next, until he has a full vision of the encampment planted deep within his brain. Satisfied with his scouting, Lanur removes himself from the camp's vicinity and makes his return to the village.

His goal now is to find this Lord Lanara's residence and to perform a similar duty there. Only when he has the information he wants will he bring his wild self back to the town.

Excellent post as usual, Eol. One minor problem. Lanur is not at the jailhouse. No one has seen him since he was escorted from the Gleeman's Abode.

That works.

Oh! I went light on the detail.  I've got a lot more too... I don't want to overindulge my wishlist though. It'll get out of hand. I could provide excel tables of data...

I hit the game thread in full hazard gear ready to wade through blood splatter and gore. I've been disappointed... and the hazard gear rental wasn't cheap!

Excellent!

Tann, the mechanic's quarters are directly beneath the engine room. The only way to get to the quarters is by going through the engine room.

I am always trying to find resources. This is what I look for most:

1. City Surroundings Generator: 
   
   
   
   1. Select Type of City: Fantasy, Medieval, Modern, Future, Cyberpunk, Dystopian
   
   
   2. Select Size of City: Tiny, Small, Mid-Sized, Large, Metropolis
   
   
   3. Select Sector/Ward Types (A person can select multiple options to return a mixed result): Seaside (Docks), Riverside, Residential, Commercial, Industrial, City Center, Warehouse 
   
   
   4. Select Condition: Abandoned, Combat Zone, Run Down, Impoverished, Low Income, Middle Class, Upper Class
      
      
      
      1. Results include:
         
         
         
         1. Number of distinct buildings in the immediate vicinity of the characters (eyesight).
            
            
            
            1. Architectural Style Type
            
            
            2. Number of stories/height of the buildings
            
            
            3. Names of Businesses and Business Types
            
            
            
            
         
         
         2. Population.
            
            
            
            1. Empty street
            
            
            2. A few people (1d10)
            
            
            3. Small
            
            
            4. Medium
            
            
            5. Large
            
            
            6. Congested
            
            
            7. Packed
               
               
               
               1. Could even provide a population breakdown of people on the street if you wanted to go that far.
               
               
               
               
            
            
            
            
         
         
         3. Vehicular Traffic
            
            
            
            1. No vehicles
            
            
            2. A few vehicles
            
            
            3. Small number of vehicles
            
            
            4. Medium number of vehicles
            
            
            5. Large number of vehicles
            
            
            6. Congested
            
            
            7. Packed
               
               
               
               1. Number of vehicles in motion vs. parked
               
               
               2. Types of vehicles (based on the type of city)
               
               
               
               
            
            
            
            
         
         
         4. Prevalent smells depending on the Ward Type and Condition.
         
         
         5. You could even add a number of non-combat oriented "encounter" possibilities (e.g. - A town cryer advertising a local tavern <tavern name>, a small child sitting alone by the side of the building, a troop of city guards marching down the street, a couple of stray dogs sniffing about). Give the results about five to ten of these things depending on the Population of the area and it adds flavor pretty quick.
         
         
         
         
      
      
      
      
   
   
   
   

Perhaps I am an idiot? 

Awesome. We'll just have to figure out how to use squirrelsuits sometime in the future.

I added a post for Asovil. Had her interacting with Nyle in a back post as well as the current timeline. 

I also dropped a couple of entries in the logbook.

I was looking at the schedule on the first page of the Q&A and am a little confused. Sunday shows no one from the Command and Flight department on shift during Gamma when the drill takes place. So, according to the timestamp of the event, wouldn't Nyle or Lt. Tal been in command as they are both labeled "Command" during Gamma shift. I was also under the impression that all department heads were Alpha shift.

Anyway... just making sure my i's are dotted and my t's are crossed.

Stardate 2365.02.21 (Sunday)
U.S.S. Peregrine; Deck 1 - Bridge – 0423

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” he says as her gaze, at last, meets his, “We thought you were supposed to be off, today…”

Blinking, antennas sinking against her white hair with uncertainty, Asovil’s lips part just a bit. What day is it? Oh, I’ve made a fool of myself again! Wait, is it what the humans call Sunday or is it Saturday? Oh, gods! He’s staring. Quick, say something.

“I am, sir,” she rushes. “I answered the alarms. I’ll be returning to my quarters now… with your permission, of course.”

Now fully facing the XO, Asovil tugs at the bottom of her uniform shirt awaiting permission to escape the suddenly awkward situation. There’s an overly long pause as the Trill stares at her. By the Frost of Uzaveh, what’s wrong with me? Why is he staring? Resisting the urge to adjust her hair and straighten her uniform again, muscles in her jaw tensing and releasing, tensing and releasing, the Andorian swallows, her frow furrowing just a bit with confusion. He clears his throat as he blinks and offers a nod.

“As you will, Lieutenant,” he grins in reply, “but, if there was something you were working on, here, please, don’t feel as if we’re chasing you off the Bridge, or that you’d be a distraction should you choose to stay...”

Why is he grinning like that? “Thank you, sir,” she manages if a little rushed. “I have work to do back at my quarters. You know what they say; Time cannot be taught new tricks.” Why does he make me feel so… so… oh, I don’t know!

Offering the appropriate salute, Asovil presses her lips together and turns on her right heel to make her way to the turbolift she’d exited but minutes before. Eyes flitting to those whose stations her gaze passes over as she turns from the befuddling XO, color rushes to her cheeks shading them a light violet.

Finally enveloped by the lift’s shell, secure behind the closed doors, Asovil draws in a deep breath, holds it for a second with her eyes closed, and then releases it slowly. “I’ve got to hold it together around him,” she mutters feeling the confusion and butterflies recede. “People are going to start talking.”

Still silently berating herself for her unbecoming behavior on the Bridge, the science officer returns to her quarters and steps inside with relief. The spilled Katheka hasn’t been cleaned up yet but considering the mess that this drill produced amongst the various stations, she can’t complain.

“Computer,” she intones flatly. “What day of the week is it?”

=/= Sunday. =/=

Toshi was right! I do have the day off.

“Lieutenant Sh’iraolnas to Ensign Maize.” Stepping over the wet carpet, Asovil makes her way to her desk.

=/= Ensign Maize, here. =/=

“When you begin your shift today, please file a report on the department’s drill scores. That is all.”

=/= Aye, sir. =/=

Settling into her chair, Asovil picks up the pencil and opens her notebook, staring at the Andorian print language for a moment without seeing it. After what seems like entirely too long to allow her active mind to wander, she begins chewing on the inside of her bottom lip, scrunches up her nose as she squints at the paper, and draws in another deep breath. 

“You’re not going to write yourself, are you,” she comments and rolls her head around a couple of times. “Fine. I suppose I’ll get to work.”

Stardate 2365.02.21 (Sunday)
U.S.S. Peregrine; Deck 1 - Bridge – 0435

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stardate 2365.02.19 (Friday)
USS Peregrine, Outside the Chief Science Officers Quarters - 1943

Thump! Thump! Thump!

"Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas, may I enter?" An unfamiliar voice requests through the room's intercom.

Looking up from the video message she’s experiencing, Asovil frowns at the door, her antenna immediately moving forward, bending low over her white hair.

“Computer, who’s at my door?” the Andorian demands.

=/= Chief Operations Officer, Lieutenant Nyle. =/=

Why is—oh! He must be here about the… her thoughts trail off as she rolls into a sitting position on the edge of her bed and sets the padd aside. Walking barefoot to the door, she considers her appearance for a moment. Gray loose-fitting exercise pants and a dark blue tank top is not exactly how she would prefer to be dressed when interacting with a new person, but she’s off duty and had planned on spending the rest of the evening catching up on personal communications.

Thumbing the button to open the door, Asovil looks up at the angular greenish face of the Daa’Vit. “You may.”

"Thank you." 

Nyle steps inside as Asovil moves to allow him entrance. His lips part into a grimace and he bares his teeth. "I don't believe we've formally met, but I'm Nyle, as I'm sure you know. Per the Captain's orders, I am here to install the monitor. If I may?"

Antenna pulling back a little, the Andorian woman tilts her head to the side and narrows her eyes. “Proceed,” she allows, using her right hand to unnecessarily indicate the location of the computer.

"Excellent. It won't take more than a moment."

Striding purposefully to Asovil's computer, Nyle logs in using his administrator credentials. Typing while he talks, Nyle presents his host with a question. "Tell me, Lieutenant, have you noticed any other changes to your system? Anything else that goes missing, or seems to be out of place?"

“No,” she replies flatly, still standing by the door, arms folded across her breasts as she watches him intently. “Nothing more.”

"I see. What I'm going to be installing is a Circumspect Surveillance Sub-routine. It should go unnoticed unless someone digs deep into the basic programming. It will record any logins, login attempts, and any keystrokes or operations that are made on your computer as well as the address of the user. In addition, I will be installing some protective software. It will attempt to kill any viruses as well as block any unauthorized access, as such I will need you to enter a passcode that will allow you to bypass it."

Entering a few more lines of code, Nyle stands up gesturing to the screen. "If you would now, please."

Quickly closing the short distance between them, Asovil bends and types a newly concocted password while Nyle diverts his eyes.

"Excellent," Nyle says as the science officer draws away from the computer. 

Stepping back, Asovil watches the operations officer enter a few more lines of code. Looking over his shoulder, she recognizes the next commands as Nyle saves the programs and sets them to install. Straightening back up, Nyle turns to face the Andorian woman. "That should do it. Your computer will be ready for use in a couple of minutes."

“Thank you.”

Nyle’s face contorts again and he walks towards the door, pausing before leaving, however, and turning to face Asovil again. "Ah, and while I'm here. I am making a sweep of every department. Is there anything the Science Department needs or desires?"

“Why do you do that?” Asovil asks point-blank. “That face that you make. Is it a method of communicating for your species? To look fierce, I mean?” Momentarily closing her eyes and shaking her head just slightly, the Andorian clears her mind of the questions and places her hands on her hips, resting her weight on her left foot. “I’m sorry. You are the first of your kind that I’ve met and I’m afraid I don’t know the customs of your people. I do not mean to be offensive.”

(OOC: Any reply&hellip

Returning to the question, Lt. Sh’iraolnas provides an answer. “I would appreciate it if you’d install that software on all of the computers in the Labs and my office.”

"And what about the department head herself?" Nyle asks, inclining his head slightly towards Asovil.

“Aside from fixing the issues with the ship’s computer offering unasked for information,” antenna perk up and sway back and forth a little, “I cannot think of anything at this time.”

"Excellent. Have a good night, Lieutenant."

“And you as well, Lieutenant Nyle.”

Having made his farewell, Nyle turns and leaves the room. After the door closes, Asovil relaxes her shoulders and moves back to the bed. Giving the computer a hard stare, she settles back onto the mattress and absently picks up her padd. Crystalline orbs attempting to burn holes into the machine Nyle had just worked on, the Andorian woman whispers, “Who are you?”

I am working on a post with Chessicfayth. 

I'm confused... what's the Hover Bay? Is that where the mule is? Or is that where we can all go and experience weightlessness in squirrelsuits?

The map should be available on Roll20.

He is a talented young man. That's for sure.

Great post, Giddy!

I'll likely post again after Olan has. Asovil is sufficiently embarrassed now and will hurry from the Bridge in case anyone is posting anything further before I get the chance.

Having received the direction of the White Cloak camp from some of the locals, Lanur makes his way back into the countryside. At first, he's casual in his travel, leaving the populated area at a stroll on what could be considered one of the main roads out. Once out of sight, he breaks from the trail and jogs into the wilds, veering from the direction he had been traversing, he makes his way into the bush. Allowing the sun to move another half the span of his hand on this new course, Lanur adjusts to his original course and presses on at a slow jog. Eyes narrowed against the sun, his hair clinging to his beard and sweat already grabbing the hair draping his neck, the woodsman scans his surroundings in the constant search for danger. He uses scents and odors, audio clues, as well as visual awareness to keep on top of his surroundings. Registering even the slightest sign of animals and human passage, he continues on his way until he starts seeing signs of the encampment.

With the White Cloaks in sight, Lanur changes tactics. Now he moves low to the ground, breaking away plants and undergrowth, sticking it through his pack straps, belt, hair to camouflage himself better. Lying on his belly, Lanur sets up surveillance.

Stardate 2365.02.21
U.S.S. Peregrine; Deck 1 - Bridge – 0411

Analytical mind already processing the potential dangers in the area when she arrived on the Bridge, Asovil absently registered all present before stationing herself at SCI1. Glancing at the viewscreen the battle immediately sets her about drawing in readings of the ship hull, polarization levels, gravitational readings on exterior decks, life support systems chemical balance reports… a litany of additional data points shared with other departments but wholly within her purview as the Science Officer to monitor. Reports flow in as well from her staff. 

Dalia is in the main lab with Lauren Crane. Gaultier, Prudnikov, and Scheuermann are all in the second lab working to secure all of the experiments against potential dangers. Her team in position, Lt. Sh’iraolnas’ fingers fly across the console working to stabilize the polarization fields. Perhaps doing so will help keep the pirates from being able to penetrate the hull long enough for the tactical team to come up with an appropriate response.

Star Fleet is always slower to return fire, she mentally complains, recalling times in the Imperial Academy where drills had required the tactical team to return fire within seconds of the first volley. 

“Would you like to hail the lead ship, sir?” Brok asks.

“Yes!” The exasperated young Ensign declares. “Open a channel.”

“Smoppen a Schannel,” the OPS crewman mumbles under his breath.

“Unidentified ship, this is Ensign Bradley Garner of the Peregrine. You have fired on a Federation ship without cause or warning, stand down your weapons and shields and explain your actions or we will be forced to return fire.” 

“Shields at 37%.” T’Darrent interrupts.

“No response,” Brok reports. 

“Can we shoot them?” Garner asks. 

Can we shoot them? Asovil’s antennae stand straight up on the top of her head and her shaped eyebrows climb as her eyes widen. Of course, we can shoot them! 

“The ships are well out of phaser range at this time, it appears whatever they’ve done to our shields is damage enough. If I were in their position, I would wait calmly, and then beam aboard a raiding party or an explosive device, or possibly beam off the captain or the warp core and have their way with us at their leisure.” The TAC crewman postulated. “We will have no shields in fifteen seconds.”

Asovil does turn her head to glance at the befuddled young officer. Fifteen seconds… make a decision!

PO Brok complains, “Also, it appears as if the turbolift is no longer functional.”

The ready room hatch hisses open, and Captain Drake strides purposefully onto the bridge, PADD in his left hand. Finally! Asovil sighs in exasperation and looks to the captain for orders. Casting his gaze at the various tense expressions, Drake frowns.

"Ensign Garner," he asks in an acid tone, "exactly what in the hell are you doing to my ship?"

(OOC: any answer&hellip

A glance at the viewscreen causes Silas to gape. "Are you..." he pauses for a moment, "...are you running from Bindi pirates?"

Yes, and not firing back! Lt. Sh’iraolnas silently comments, her antennae now bent forward with intensity.

"Shields are down," T'Darrin reports neutrally. "Sir, they..."

Silas held up a hand. "Stop."

With a sideways glance at the Ensign, the Captain barks out. "Computer, end simulation.  Authorization, Drake alpha three-niner."

=/=Simulation ended. =/= comes the feminine reply. The attacking ships vanished from the viewscreen. By the Frozen gods, wha—realization dawns and the Andorian’s eyes narrow to mere slits, antennas curl back, and lips press together. Well done, Captain. Well done, indeed.

"Cancel red alert, " the Captain orders. Instantly, the klaxons stopped blaring, and the lighting returned to normal.  

=/=What in the name of all that is holy is going on up there?=/= The angry voice of Chief Davis rails over the comm.

"Belay that, Chief," replies Drake. "The situation is under control."

Not waiting for the acid reply that is sure to follow—and feeling the tiniest amount of pity for the engineering personnel that are within range of the Chief's inevitable tirade—the Captain keys his commbadge.

"Now hear this," Silas speaks in a firm tone, "this emergency has been a drill to test our combat readiness. To put it bluntly, we failed. Expect to be in touch with your department heads regarding areas of improvement. Drake out."

Zai materializes on the Bridge, his jacket still open and his eyes blinking rapidly. Despite knowing that the whole battle was just a drill, the sudden appearance of the XO causes personnel—including Asovil—to tense, ready to spring into action. Marking the confusion on the man’s spotted face, the Andorian Scientist’s antennae twitch.

"Mister Garner," the Captain says, "this was perhaps not the most fair of tests. The last time that I checked, however, our enemies have little intention of concerning themselves over concepts such as fairness. While I am aware that you are new to these sorts of responsibilities, the fact is that you do have them, and you must be capable of handling them. 

Lt. Commander Zai manages to fasten his jacket and, while keeping an ear on the dressing down, makes his way to the XOs console. Still standing at attention from the Captain’s arrival, Asovil follows his progress with her still-narrowed eyes.

“My regards to Commander Zai, and will he please ensure that you spend plenty of time in the holosuites on an appropriate range of simulations to help further your education.

“Of course, Captain,” Tochi calls over his shoulder, “Our apologies for not having done so, already.”

“Ah... and please, Mister Garner, come and see me in my Ready Room at oh eight-thirty."

(OOC: any reply...)

Drake pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes for a moment. "Very well. Resume our previous heading and speed. I believe that I will go catch a short nap before I complete these assessments."

Lieutenant Tal wanted drills; I'll be interested to see what she thinks of this. With that, the Captain spins and strides to the now perfectly functioning turbolift.

Commander Zai stands, hands clasped behind his back, and watches as Captain Drake orders the Peregrine back on course before, with evidence of no small amount of exasperation on his face, taking his leave of the bridge. Tochi offers nothing more than a short nod as Silas passes by and disappears into the now functioning turbolift. As the door whooshes closed behind the Captain, Zai offers a slow shake of his head to no one in particular.

“Well,” the Trill sighs as he strides toward the Command Chair and Ens Garner, “that was… exhilarating.” He draws to a stop beside Garner and, resting a cool hand on the sandy-haired ensign’s shoulder, says; “It seems you’ve had enough excitement for one shift, Bradley. Why don’t you go get a cup of coffee? We’ll handle the rest of Gamma watch for you.”

((OOC: Assuming an acknowledgment of some sort.))

“Very well, Ensign,” Tochi nods as Garner prepares to take his leave, “and remember; the art of victory is learned in defeat, yes? We look forward to your report on this matter.”

As a somewhat hang-dog version of Ensign Bradley Garner ambles off the Peregrin’s bridge, Tochi stifles a sigh and settles himself into the Big Chair. “Mister Zhang,” he calls to the Petty Officer manning the helm, “Resume our course to the Trevil system, if you please. Warp five.”

“Aye, sir,” PO2 Zhang confirms, “Bringing us about.”

“Mister T’Darin,” Tochi calls to the Rigellian manning TAC, “Compile a tactical analysis of the simulation for us, if you would, and send it to my terminal.”

“Aye, Commander.”

“Mister Brok,” Zai addressed OPS, now, “a damage and casualty report, from you, please.”

“Of course, Commander Zai.”

“Thank you,” the Trill returns, essentially addressing the entirety of the bridge crew. He eases himself back into the chair, then, and watches the flow of the starscape on the viewscreen as PO Zhang brings the Peregrine back to her original heading, and sighs softly as those same stars expand into brilliant streaks of light when they jump to warp.

Only once they are underway, again, did the Trill dare turn his eyes to Asovil. Once the captain had left the bridge, the science officer had returned to her console. The hour is early and her official shift doesn’t begin for quite a while but due to her Andorian sleep habits, she was already awake—By the gods! The mess… Keying the proper report into her console, she notifies Ops that her quarters need to be cleaned and then sends orders to her team relieving them from battle stations. Still unsure of whether she wants to return to her quarters and continue the work on her paper or just begin her shift early, Asovil glances over her shoulder and meets the Trill’s cheerful eyes.

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” he says as her gaze, at last, meets his, “We thought you were supposed to be off, today…”

Blinking, antennaes sinking against her white hair with uncertainty, Asovil’s lips part just a bit. What day is it? Oh, I’ve made a fool of myself again! Wait, is it what the humans call Sunday or is it Saturday? Oh, gods! He’s staring. Quick, say something.

“I am, sir,” she rushes. “I answered the alarms. I’ll be returning to my quarters now… with your permission, of course.”

Now fully facing the XO, Asovil tugs at the bottom of her uniform shirt awaiting permission to escape the suddenly awkward situation.

Stardate 2365.02.21
U.S.S. Peregrine; Deck 1 - Bridge – 0423

I'd be happy to Chessicfayth. Set the stage and I'll jump in (PM?). 

The game has been updated. Keep in mind the time of day. It's been a while since people last ate and you are all operating on maybe 4 hours of sleep. The map on Roll20.net is available for reference. Looking forward to everyone's posts.

X00032:8.Y00001:12.Z00054:5, Rya Mendez’s Listed Address | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 8:30 AM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15 mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)

Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

Having emerged a few seconds behind the rest of the group, Bloodbank finds himself walking up to a heated conversation. Not so much the kind that includes yelling but more the type where a bunch of Type A personalities are squaring off. The mood doesn’t do anything to alleviate the feelings still stirring from having relived a piece of his past when confronted by the sight of the disheveled child not to mention the drama playing out amongst the team.

“I’m done being nice and quiet,” The big solo says staring directly at Echo, a hurt, yet determined look in his eyes that his battle mask keeps from being revealed. His voice steady and calm, he continues, "I don't know what the hell is up with you Echo, one minute your all nice and affectionate, the next you’re basically telling me, f**k you! I looked to you and thought my idea of you taking the lead with the old lady was okay as you did not give any indication it was not. I never had any intention of sacrificing your ass to the ‘gods of luck.’ If that’s how you feel then I apologize.”

Turning to look at Charlie, he addresses their faceman. “And you Charlie, you start doing your part finding this kid fast or no more Mister Nice Guy from me. You got stuck as leader by Starlight, then f**king start leading. We need the kid and we need him fast so we can go after Vegas.” A deep couple of breaths to calm himself and he looks at everyone else. “So where to next?”

"Casino, choomba," Bloodbank begins. He doesn’t get any further than that, however as Cred Stick Charlie cuts in cool as a cucumber but as hard as steel.

“Whoa partner, hold on, I need to do what?” the well-dressed fixer shakes his head. “No, no, no... you seem to be messing things up just fine as you are, Mister Nice Guy. I’m not the one that took everyone else and put them on public transportation and wasted hours. We could have been here HOURS ago, Mister Ego, so save that crap for the headhunters that are hot on our tails."

"Gentlemen!" Bloodbank interjects, his eyes wide behind his Battle mask. "Look, we are all tired and stressed. Casino, I know Vegas's situation is weighing heavily upon you, but we are all on the same team here. There is no way we are going to get through this without working together and, if not trusting each other, at least not berating each other for every move and decision." 

No one seems to really be listening to him, however.

“So…” Blossom removes the lolli from her mouth with an audible popping sound and smiles. “Everything go well with you choombas?”

Mortified that Casino would address her in front of others like he did, Echo refuses to look at anyone, focusing her eyes on the stream of dirty water rolling down the gutter. “We go to that address and confront Rya,” she mutters, answering the question that Keith had asked earlier.

“Sure,” the netrunner chirps. “Let’s all get lovey-dovey in this quaint piece of military surplus. Who’s lap am I sitting on?” Turning her childish heart-shaped sunglasses towards Bloodbank and Fixer, she grins broadly and points the ball of her grape sucker at each in turn while swinging her hips to one side with each change, “Eenie, meanie, miny, moe…”

"Yeah, we do that. Get moving." Fixer agrees and to prove his point moves to the car. The Techie opens the back passenger door of the vehicle and climbs inside, patting his lap once he’s settled. "I've been called Moe before. Bring that sucker over here and have a seat." 

Charlie's thoughts fly back to his earlier meeting. 

"Docs?" Fluke chuckles and peers about the room distractedly as his companion pops her gum. "Dude, you ain't working with a neocorp here. You borrow the jeep and if you **** us, we skin you and use yer hide as a tent. Now, here are the keys--ya, keys. Old school, but effective."

Dangling the keys over the table, Fluke looks lazily across the table and presents a crooked grin.

Giggling, Blossom skips over and sweeps her trench coat aside to plant her bottom down, skirming just a bit to get comfortable. Leaning back into the Techie’s chest, her wet platinum blonde hair brushes against his cheek just above the medical mask.

Sliding into the back of the AirJeep on the opposite side of Fixer and Blossom, Ghlahn speaks up, "Just pick a lap already. We need to get moving." Holding up his walkie, the red-headed CEE-metal adds, "By the way, these things are great for talking to people who are watching your six. Especially when they call in updates. You all have left me hanging twice now. Let’s not make it three."

Thinking back to the first time Ghlahn was left hanging, and glad that his reddening face was hidden behind his Battle mask, Bloodbank moves to slip into the passenger side seat in front of Fixer and Blossom. 

“Unless you can connect with a ‘chip’ or you’re rated as a driver at level three with an aerodyne endorsement with your NuCybe, you're in the wrong seat, Solo.” Charlie’s voice is not mocking, just informative as he moves past where Bloodbank has stalled in entering the AirJeep and Casino is paused at the driver’s door. 

Charlie takes his free hand and produces the keys from his coat. Twirling them around before placing them back in this pocket, he then takes his occupied hand with the card and slips it into his inside breast pocket next to his agent. 

"Only the ‘Nomad’ people like Echo here can drive like that because they were born behind a wheel,” Charlie continues his comments now that he has Casino’s attention. “Besides... you didn’t want to kick in when you had the chance—when I was horse-trading my soul for transportation... FOR the GROUP.” 

Cred Stick Charlie looks the people he’s talking about over. “None of you did and now look at this mess we are all in. I should make most of you walk but I need you more than ever—as much as you need me. I know what my skill set is and I have a good idea what everyone else’s skill sets are from Starlight’s notes that she sent to me. So if we are all going to save this kid, WE as a group must work together and put aside any transgression towards each other. If so, then please join me in the airraft, if not... Take the bus because this ride isn’t free. 

“Like in life, choombas, everything costs and I've already yet created another debt to just simply borrow this craft. So, taking a ride from me means that you plan on working with me—I didn’t say for me because we are all under Starlight’s contract, I’m just the point man for now. Those that are interested in doing a rescue operation after this. If we live. I will say that we can vote as a group. Does that sound democratic for everyone?"

"Yes. Well put, Charlie." Bloodbank replies after a brief pause. "I am more than willing to work with you—with everyone here. And as long as the jobs are... on the up and up, I will continue to do my best to keep everyone outta the morgue. And Casino, even if everyone else decides otherwise, I'm going with you after this. I owe Vegas that much. I think we all do, but we've got to finish this job first. It has to be our sole purpose for now."

“Awe… Now I feel all warm and fuzzy inside,” Blossom quips, then squirming a bit on Fixer’s lap she turns her head so that she can be better heard in his right ear as she whispers. “Or could that be for another reason?”

“Look, I’ll take this seat here,” Echo moves into the middle seat opposite Bloodbank. “You take shotgun, Casino. Now, can we kick it in the ass?”

(OOC: Assuming Casino moves to the shotgun position without complaint. Tann, you’re welcome to post his response. Remember that Charlie’s roll of an 18 on Persuasion is accomplishing a challenging task.)

“Thank you,” Cred Stick Charlie addresses Casino as he rounds the front of the jeep, “and I really can use your help if you are willing to work with me.”

Being finally settled in the vehicle, Casino removes his battle mask, rubbing his tired face with his right hand and noticing for the first time that Echo could not possible have seen his nod to her about taking the lead with the old woman. Great just great, f..king things up yet again, the big solo thinks to himself. Turning in his chair, Casino seeks her attention.

“Look, Echo, I’m sorry. I really thought I had your okay, but I guess I did not.” Drawing in a deep breath, he swallows his pride further and offers up an olive branch. “Won’t happen again” 

Unsure, maybe a little timid, Echo peers at the rough man from beneath her long eyelashes. Contemplating his offering for a few seconds, she finally dips her head in a nod of acceptance. “Thank you.” Awkwardly offering a smile that is only visible around her eyes, she turns her head to look out at the street and adjusts her submachine gun to sit easier in her lap. “I’ll go with you and Bloodbank to get Vegas, too.”

With everyone in the car, Blossom looking quite alright with her seating arrangement, Casino watches as Charlie inputs the address into the jeep’s GPS and pulls into the street. The mountain of a solo glances sideways at the fixer driving the hover vehicle and can not help but wonder about him. It seems clear to Keith that he is not a street fixer, but maybe a damn good one behind the desk. I mean, really, what do I know about the guy other than Starlight stuck him on us. Maybe he did not want to be here and Starlight is just being a menstruating b***h. A second look at Charlie as he weaves into the next lane. In his anger—in the whole Vegas, Echo, get the kid first bulls***—he had taken a lot out on Charlie. Had he been wrong? F*** no! Could he have worded it all better? Yeah, for sure. Right now, all the big solo can do is tone down his anger and rage at Vegas’s life being on the line and start to be more professional with all the members of this team. Looking forward he settles his mind on looking out for possible danger.

(OOC: You lot can add more conversation if you’d like in back-posting fashion but I’m moving this along.)

Charlie takes the wheel, Casino in shotgun and the aerodyne roughly lifts up off the pavement sending putrid rainwater spraying out from underneath it in a swirling cloud of mist. As they move down the road, leaving the old woman’s apartment behind, Charlie addresses the netrunner.

“Blossom, did you get any other information on the address that I sent to you? I plan to place the airraft a block away, deploy my drone, let the CEE take time to find a good shooting position, and run live feed to anyone that has devices. I plan to stream info from the drone to you as I want the CEE to take an overwatch position and let the rest wait till intel is up.” 

“Not much to find out,” Blossom calls out. “Maps show it’s an alley. Probs squatters. Perfect op for that second team to ambush us, though. The nearest NCPD cameras are a couple of blocks in either direction and one of them is broke, broke, broke. The other is more in the opposite direction of where we’re going and comin’ from. 

“You’re drone idea is sexy, though. When you’re setting it up, I can take the feed and push it to anyone with a HUD.”

Charlie then addresses the comms issue and chimes in about using the radio and giving more support to Ghlahn, keeping him in the loop.

“Ya,” Echo turns to look at the CEE-metal sniper. “Sorry about that. We’ll do better communicating with you, I promise.”

“See?” Blossom exclaims cheerfully. “Things are so much better when mom and dad aren’t fighting.”

The short distance that they have to drive passes quickly. There aren’t a lot of aerodynes in this part of the city, and by a lot, everyone notices that there aren’t any. Needless to say, with the city coming even more alive and people starting to drift out onto the streets, the AirJeep is drawing some attention.

“Maybe drive around the block?” Echo leans forward and puts a hand on Charlie’s shoulder to catch his attention. “That way we can get a look at the area and find ourselves a place to park this rig that’s a little less conspicuous.”

(OOC: I’m going to assume that there’s no objections to this suggestion.)

Five miles or so from the bay in the UrbanZone and there’s not a ton of natural light. Daylight is recognizable but most of the light is derived from the streetlamps, neon signs, and artificial lights provided by those outside on the street. End of Row, 12th Alley, Hill View exists between the real addresses of X00032:12.Y00001:13.Z00054:6 and X00032:13.Y00001:13.Z00054:6. The maps app that Blossom uses is open source and updated by the communities. 12th Alley is the name given by those in the area to the alleyway between these two blocks. The pretty little netrunner points this out as Charlie swings them past the opening to the alleyway.

“Hill View is probs the name they gave whatever the construct is that Rya Mendez lives in. End of Row likely means the furthest back portion of the alley.” Information delivered, Fixer feels Blossom stiffen a little in his lap. 

“So, this area’s got some booster activity. The Dead Dogs,” she quiets as she accesses more information through her internal cyberware. “Local gang… not much in the news, just some minor arrests for drug trafficking…”

X00032:12.Y00001:13.Z00054:6 is a base building in the style of old Bronx, New York tenant housing. Nanite constructed red brick sitting on top of a foundation of nuCement that’s in fairly good repair, all things considered. One way to beat those nanobuilders, or at least stave them off for a time, is to care for the building. Those little beasts only repurpose parts of the structure when it becomes rundown. That’s likely what happened to all of the interior walls back at the building where Ghlahn and Blossom hid out for a bit. Graffiti marks the nuCement base and the spray-painted dog skull with X’s for eyes can be found amongst the street art.

In sharp contrast to its neighbor, X00032:13.Y00001:13.Z00054:6 is a bloated version of an early period San Fran townhome with stairs and stoop that only half remains as the crumbling portion has been eaten away by nanobuilders. This building is also tagged.

Despite it being early morning still, the heat is on the rise. Those who have weather alerts set on their agents are being warned that today is going to be a scorcher. In the depths of the city, that means that temperatures are likely going to reach the high nineties which is way above the average. Combine that with the humidity and being outside of air conditioning or bereft of self-climating clothing is going to be miserable. 

12th Alley runs east to west which means that after making the rounds on the main roads outside of the two block parameter, the team is coming up on their initial arrival street on the north side of X00032:13.Y00001:13.Z00054:6. Looking down on the city from above, starting in the bottom right corner (which would be the southwest corner of X00032:13.Y00001:13.Z00054:6) the building occupants appear to be as follows:

13-13-6 Materials Recovery Services (anything made of reconstitutional materials can be delivered here to be broken down and repurposed into spools for 3D printing). Moving north, Grandma Dee’s Diner, Mile’s Gentry Recording Studios, the building’s main entrance, Greek Dan’s Gyros, Lite Design Services, Pedro’s Food Trucks Corporate Office. Then, there’s 12th Alley. On the other side of 12th Alley starts X00032:12.Y00001:13.Z00054:6 with Block 32-36 Waste Management, Speak Translation Services, West Baptists Recovery Center, Einstein’s Book Emporium. Having reached the end of the western road (again, the first road you folks were on when you arrived in this area), the team had turned right, taking you along the north side of X00032:12.Y00001:13.Z00054:6. There you’d passed more of Einstein’s Book Emporium, Blocks 32-36 “Lucas Wiseman” Elementary school which takes up the rest of that building on the west-facing side. Turning right again, still driving along X00032:12.Y00001:13.Z00054:6 but now heading south and on the east side, there’s a bit more of the elementary, Urbanside Transportation with a large, tagged sliding garage door, B13 Community Bank, Housedresser Linens, Smithy’s 3D Plastics Print Shop, Burgess Soy Gardens, This Ain’t No Gentleman’s Bar, and Rashad’s Electronics. Rounding the corner yet again and driving down the southern road running east to west, you have Rashad’s Electronics, Great Imaginations Art Center, Bailer's Containers, West Baptists Church, Fast Set Footwear, StarSystems Satellite, West Baptists Soup Kitchen, and back again to 13-13-6 Materials Recovery Services. 

Across the street are various additional services, restaurants, and facilities on each of the streets (see the map for details). There is already a lot of activity at the soup kitchen as the homeless and less fortunate gather for some soy-based meals. Traffic has picked up as well, with ground cars transporting people about their Sunday business, trying to find parking close to the church, restaurants, and stores. A number of stores are also preparing to open with their neon signs switching on the “open” designator adding to the multicolored wash of illumination.

The second stories of these buildings begin the mix of residential and less frequently, offices and services. Fire escapes are placed in equal distances along the sides of the buildings but their ladders are pulled up, broken away completely, or dangling dangerously by metals that are about to be repurposed leaving the lowest platforms a good twenty feet off the gound. 

Having driven past the mouth of 12th Alley, the team witnessed a bit of its landscape. Huts and hovels start to appear in the dark confines almost right at the mouth leaving a winding path between that is quickly swallowed up by the lack of light. Wiring and clotheslines crisscross the upper levels like a primitive laser alarm system. This webwork of wires and lines begins at the ground level and extends as high up as the eye can see. Pigeons roost along these lines as well as on the various outcroppings of the structures painting the face of the buildings with their white and gray waste. Approximately sixty to seventy feet overhead, the crossways linking buildings begin. And above this the underside of another level of roads blocks out a portion of the natural light still determined to make it through.

“A bunch of private networks… none of them strong,” Blossom has dropped back into her internal view of the Web. “Nothing strong. Lots of dark space.”

(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 08:55 AM PST)

I should reward Espatier for catching me in a guffaw. Yes. The Jeep is an aerodyne vehicle not a land craft. No wheels, handles differently, etc. Drive is not the appropriate skill for it. Drive Aerodyne is the right skill. So, as Espatier had Charlie explain, Casino would either have to have the skill or be chipped to drive the machine. This would change the layout of the seating arrangement to (and taking posts already made in mind)...

Driver: Cred Stick Charlie or Echo

Shotgun (PS1): Casino or Echo

DS2: Cred Stick Charlie, Casino, or Echo

PS2: Bloodbank

DS3: Ghlahn

PS3: Fixer (Blossom on his lap)

No need to adjust posts as I'll make the adjustment when I put everything together.

How can we miscommunicate? We're blood.