Bug Hunt! Mission 1 -- Potts Point (IC Thread)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Starlequin on 08-01-2012, 00:03:20</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Bug Hunt! Mission 1 -- Potts Point (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Starlequin</strong> on <strong>08-01-2012, 00:03:20</strong>
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				The scent of gunpowder and smoke drifted heavy on the wind, and Percival C. McCleary stood with one leg hiked on the hood of an armored truck that looked like it lost a fight with a pissed-off can opener. The grizzled old veteran growled under his breath and carelessly fired a steely-eyed gaze off into the distance, and three miles away a retreating Lightning Bug fell dead out of the sky, its thick veiny wings twitching madly as it splattered against a small boulder. "That'll learn ya, you overgrown windshield stains," McCleary grumbled before pulling a loaded flask from one of the pouches on his bandolier. He gave the canister a glance and its cap unscrewed itself with a squeak of apology. He pulled a drag from from the flask and resealed the cap, then hopped down from the top of the truck and marched into the Potts Point Emergency Command Center, his boots trailing syrupy strands of bug goo and shell shards into the reinforced aluminum building.<br><br>"Dammit, where is that team from N'Atlanta?! We need BugBusters on site and we need 'em right gawldamn now!" McCleary boomed as the door slammed open. Everyone inside jumped at the sudden noise, and all two of them practically collapsed in their chairs in relief when they realized the bugs hadn't returned for yet another attack. "This was the third damn raid they've sent out this week; our defenses are holding for now, but we can't withstand much more of this. And besides, after every attack we end up losing --"<br><br>McCleary was interrupted when three figures raced by the open Command Center door, and he stuck his head out to catch the sight of two bare, shapely female asses and one saggy mancrack racing like bats out of hell toward the direction of the departing swarm. "You dick-fevered shitbirds get back in your monkey-humpin' skivvies and get back on your posts, or I swear by Martha Stewart's left tit I'll --" What exactly McCleary would do was lost on the vamoosin' trio, who were making surprisingly good speed for being naked and barefoot. With a scream of rage, McCleary drew his sidearm and fired several rounds after them, but it was too late; both the nymphets and the fat, hairy bastard were out of sight.<br><br>"That! See?! Every damn attack, seems there's always a few morons who decide to go join the other team! What the hell is wrong with these people?! Is there too much bleach in their cocaine or something?!" Percival seethed and gritted his dentures as he holstered his sidearm and turned back to Mayor Higgins and his assistant, Eliza Dulott. Higgins jerked a stained handkerchief from his vest pocket and wiped a sheen of sweat from his bald pate and shook his head anxiously.<br><br>"They're not the only problem, Mr. McCleary. Remember, the virus? It's claimed another twelve victims since last Tuesday, and the local quarantine wards are still overflowing!" "The doctors say they've developed a pharmaceutical cocktail that seems to slow the symptoms, but they're running out of supplies and they can't make enough for every patient," Eliza added, muttering&nbsp; absently from across the table as she pored over expense reports and tried to crunch the village budget to replace all the ammunition they'd been using.<br><br>"Mr. McCleary, there's really nothing more for you to do here; why not go check on the specimen transport truck, see how Chester is coming along? He should be just about finished modifying the Metabug containment units, I think," Mayer Higgins said with a sigh. McCleary grumbled something under his breath about Petticox's dick and a cabinet door and stormed out of the Command Center, grabbing the microradio from his hip and dialing up the local garage.<br><br>*SHRKT!* "Hey, Chester, this is McCleary; gotcher ears on? Over."<br>*SHRKT!* "Uh, sorry dude, there's no 'Chester' here; this is Motor Ghost, over."<br>*SHRKT!* "What the hell? Motor Gh...goddammit, Chester, we already talked about this; you ain't gettin' a damn nickname! Over!."<br>*SHRKT!* "Aw, c'mon, Mr. McCleary! Motor Ghost is a really cool one! It's practically like right outta the comics!"<br>*SHRKT!* "..."<br>*SHRKT!* "Oh, um, over."<br>*SHRKT!* "...Alright, you sawed-off dumbass, I'll make you a deal. I'm gonna come down to that damn garage and beat on your ass a while with one a' yer damn wrenches, and if you start bleedin' ink, you can have your damn comic book nickname. How's that sound? Over."<br>*SHRKT!* "...uh...Chester here, boss. What can I do for ya? Over."<br>*SHRKT!* "Mayor wants to know how the bug-catchin' truck is coming along. Over."<br>*SHRKT!* "Oh, right! Uh, yeah, boss, it's about done. I just secured the last container; these puppies'll hold damn near anything! Over."<br>*SHRKT!* "Good work. You got those run-flats installed yet like I told you? Over."<br>*SHRKT!* "It's up on the blocks now, boss; I'll betcha $50 they'll be on before that team gets here from N'Atlanta. Over."<br><br>A heavy rumbling sound echoed in the distance, and McCleary turned in every direction, scanning the horizon for the telltale plumes of dust that always accompanied an approaching bug horde. Seeing nothing, he pulled a small field glass from one pocket and scanned again, this time spotting a speck in the distance rolling toward Potts Point at high speed. A grim grin crossed his face as he punched the radio call button again.<br><br>*SHRKT!* "Hell, kid, make it $100. Over."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Bug Hunt! Mission 1 -- Potts Point (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Shiny</strong> on <strong>12-01-2012, 18:38:20</strong>
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				After a particular steep ground wave, the Marauder actually managed to loose contact with the reddish dust. Split-seconds of relative serenity, accentuated by the whispering of the wind and the engine revving high due the loss of resistance. The crash was spectacular. The nose hit first, the front wheel suspension rods were rammed all the way into their cylinders and the chassis fell just short of scraping over the wheels. The first jolt almost made Pjotr bite into the steering wheel and the subsequent ones rattled the car wildly, as the metallic projectile sped on wagging its tail happily, bulldozing the moisture-deprived vegetation into the ground. The corners of Pjotr's mouth were slightly lifted, almost, <em>almost</em> passing for a smile of joy.<br><br>They had been driving for about an hour or so, through the lively city of New Atlanta, onto the old route 400 heading north, through the lesser populated areas of the suburbs and small villages, until they had reached the barren hills, where they had left the tarmac and continued to drive cross-country. <br><br>Pott's Point began to grow out of the backdrop of the cloudless sky, the roofs poorly gleaming in the up high sun. Pjotr turned the wheel slightly to correct their course, now heading directly toward the command center and stepped down on the accelerator pedal till it wouldn't go any further. The Marauder mobilized its last reserves of power and slowly climbed to its top speed.<br><br>About a third of a mile before their destination, Pjotr let go of the accelerator pedal and stepped on the clutch. The behemoth didn't care much for it, at first. It still soldiered on smoothly, pulled along by its ten tons of steel. At four hundred yards, the needle of the speedometer began to fall. at three hundred yards it was at fifty three mph. At two hundred yards, at forty mph. Hundred and fifty yards short of their destination, at thirty two mph, Pjotr reengaged the clutch and flicked a switch to direct all of the power to the hind wheels. The needle pointed at 24 when there was only a distance of hundred yards left to cover. He quickly turned the steering wheel all the way to the right. The effect of this was that the Marauder, aided by the plane loose ground, began to turn gracefully, kicking up a enormous cloud of sand and dust, soon sliding along at an almost perpendicular angle to its direction of movement. <br>Fifty yards separated the Marauder from its destination. Pjotr cranked the wheel all the way to the right and gently engaged the brakes, which let the truck's tail end flick around in an elegant arc to complete its turn. Pjotr softly played with the brake and the acclerator pedal till they came to a stop, his face content. <br>*Thud!*<br>"<em>Der'mo!</em>"<br><br>In the end, it wasn't his action that stopped the vehicle.<br>Instead, the side of the metal monster had hit the wall of the command center. Not strong enough to cause any damage to it or - if that was even possible - to the Marauder, but Pjotr felt like he botched a graceful rendition of 'The Swan Lake' at its very end, even though he succeeded to park in such a way that the majority of the Marauder was shielded from the sun, while simultaneously allowing for the front doors to be opened. Grumbling, he hammered down on a button to open the hatch at the back grabbed the radio and addressed the team: "Dizmount."<br><br>Pjotr slipped out of the Marauder, lighting up a cigarette before his feet hit the ground.<br><em>No time to begrudge a mistake in the midst of battle.</em><br>He squinted against the bright sun while searching for McClearly's distinctive silhouette, quickly finding him a short distance away. Pjotr approached him and after greeting him said, while extending his arm toward the Marauder and the newly assembled team: "Fou<em>r</em> nu me<em>r</em>ks at you dispozal, zi<em>r</em>."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Bug Hunt! Mission 1 -- Potts Point (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Blue Leah</strong> on <strong>15-01-2012, 02:04:37</strong>
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				At the driver's word, Kyle opens up the rear door of the massive jeep and hops down to the dirt, cradling Wanda in his arms like a newborn babe. Little brass medals- his only other keepsakes from his days in service- glint in the sun as he takes a look around the place that he and his new team have been sent to "save." <br><br>It's not the prettiest... but beggars can't really be choosers, the marksman supposes. With a sigh, he looks around at the others, and breaks the long silence. <br><br>"So... Who is taking point?" <br><br>It's no hero's line... but the marksman's mind is already reverting back to old habits, now that they're out in the field. They're a unit... and each member of a unit has his or her role to fulfill. <br><br>"Does anyone have radio gear, or a way to recognize targets marked by a rangefinder?" 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Bug Hunt! Mission 1 -- Potts Point (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Andalon</strong> on <strong>15-01-2012, 20:23:34</strong>
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				Shortly after Kyle, Odessa left the vehicle. She was all dressed up now, wearing her complete combat armour and other gear. It was a bit tough to get into it, thanks to the driving skills of Pjotr, or maybe the lack of it, but she managed to do it. <br><br>She was very pleased with the work the armsmaster did, not only he recharged the almost spent power cells, he actually replaced them by fresh ones. Everything was fine, and even better, she noticed how the air got stale and gained a slight chemical touch when she closed the filter mask. The filters were fresh and clean, not the refreshed junk she got used to.<br><br>Unlike the others, she did not walk forward to McClearly, but walked away from the Marauder. To those watching her, it seemed like she was stumbling forward, not one step after the other, but two short steps, a long one, then a pause, then three long steps, followed by two short ones. She kept that pattern until she was about ten meters away from the APC and the others, and crouched down.<br><br>She pressed a button on the side of her helmet, and the visor slid down. To those who were watching, it looked like she was blind now, but in fact the opposite was the truth.<br><br>The area lost its colors, as the enhancers kicked in. She could tell the temperature around her, her heading, and the distance of whatever she was looking at. Yep, great job there. She scanned the area behind them, where they came from, looking for anything unusual.<br><br>"Looks like no one followed us", she said, her voice strangly altered from below the helmet. "Surprisingly, as this monster ain't the most subtle thing I've seen..."<br><br>As she rejoined the others, she heared Kyle's words.<br><br>"Radio I got, military style." She tapped her helmet, smiling underneath it. "For rangefinders, what you prefer? Laser or IR? Got both in this shiny nifty thing, not sure if they work as they should tho."<br><br>Pressing the button again, the visor slid up again, and with a push on another on on the other side of the helmet, the filter piece opened. She grinned. "Take point, huh? Well, who would be foolish enough to do so, I wonder..."<br><br>She rested her arms on her rifle, which she again had strapped across her chest, the muzzle facing to the ground.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Bug Hunt! Mission 1 -- Potts Point (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Starlequin</strong> on <strong>16-01-2012, 07:02:52</strong>
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				McCleary stood in the blazing midday sun some twenty yards out from the Command Center, his imposing figure casting a short (but no less fearsome) shadow on the dry earth as he awaited the NestBreaker team's impending arrival. The old man didn't even flinch as the hulking Marauder barrelled past him at breakneck speed and thick plumes of kicked-up dust rolled over him, chasing after the vehicle like a herd of rabid marmosets. The sound of screeching brakes and the *Thud!* of metal on concrete drew an aggravated sigh from McCleary, and he shook his hanging head with a grumble.<br><br>"I'm gettin' too old for this shit..."<br><br>He marched back to the Command Center, waving an 'all clear' signal to the Mayor and Miss Dulott as they came racing out the side door, clearly panicked by the Marauder's impact. His long legs ate up the distance between his position and the disembarking BugBusters, and the driver quickly moved to meet him. "Well, look who decided to show the fuuuuck up," McCleary called out in a childish, mocking tone as he approached. "I was just getting ready to go storm the damn nest myself with a jumbo flyswatter and my granddaughter's old <em><strong>Hello Kitty</strong></em> water pistol!"<br><br>McCleary stopped as the driver reached him and pointed back to the rest of the team, saying...<em>something</em> in...hell, it <em>might</em> have been English, if English could have its brains blown out and soaked in recycled whiskey. He squinted at the younger man, a slight slackness in his jaw as he fruitlessly attempted to decipher&nbsp; the accent, but soon gave up and nodded. "Yeah, all right. Sure, kid. Bitchin'. Whatever." He turned and gave the others a glare as they milled about by the vehicle.<br><br>"So, where's mine?" He growled, meeting each team member's eyes and bracing his fists on his hips. At the look of collective confusion that swept their expressions, McCleary barked, "Well? I assumed since you took so damn long to get here, you must have stopped off for coffee and biscuits!" A roll of his eyes answered the prettyboy gun nut's query about radio gear, and he brushed past them all on his way into the Command Center. "Would you all be so kind as to remove the thumbs that are currently planted up your puckered asses, and join me in the bunker to brief for the mission that's probably gonna get you all killed?"<br><br>Mayor Higgins remained standing outside, waving the NestBreaker team inside with a jovial smile as Eliza followed McCleary inside to begin passing out the mission notes. Once the team was inside, McCleary wasted no time waiting for anyone to take a seat, and instead began tapping with a long, thin pointer on a large hanging map of the surrounding terrain. "Alright, here's the skinny. We are here," he said, pointing to a small area inside a blue circle near the center of the map, "and the nest is here." He flicked the pointer toward the map's northeast corner. <br><br>"About 40 miles or so from here, which puts it about 15 miles inside the DZ border. There are sentry bugs posted about a mile from the nest, and aerial patrols will probably spot us long before that. Now I know what you're thinking: if we're just supposed to collect specimens, why not just take the sentries and forget about blitzin' the nest? But that's not gonna work. We've already snagged and bagged our share of these fuckers during the raids they've been launching against us, but the docs say none of the specimens we caught were any good. Best they can figure is--"<br><br>"The doctors have determined that there must be some sort of compound present in the heart of the nest, probably dispensed by some of the queens, that acts as a kind of preservative for the viral cells," Eliza interjected, her posh accent sounding both disturbingly out of place and right at home in the shabby bunker. "They surmise that the recent raiding parties have been composed of bugs that have undergone insufficient exposure to this compound; therefore, you'll be required to penetrate into the nest's inner chambers to extract specimens with suitable levels of both the virus and the preservative agent. Now, as to actually collecting the specimens--"<br><br>"We got some local talent that's come up with a solution that little problem," McCleary said, just as Chester poked his head into the room. "Ah, right on time, kid. Folks, this is Chester Banning--"<br><br>"Hello!"<br><br>"And he's the one who'll be providing our collection and containment services today. He's also developed the toys you'll be using to drag the bug carcasses out of the nest. A couple of rifles have been--"<br><br>"See, what I did was, I took a couple of Mr. McCleary's rifles and I modified them, you know," Chester said, cutting McCleary off as he shuffled into the room, "and well really, I didn't do very much, I just swapped out the barrels for larger ones to fit these grappling bolts I cut, and added these CO2 canisters to increase the firing power so the bolts can pierce the bugs' shells, so alls you'll need to do is--"<br><br>"Er, I'm sure they get the idea, Mr. Banning," said Mayor Higgins, waving the young man off. "After all, they look like professional, bright...er, well, professionals, anyway."<br><br>McCleary growled and crossed his arms, glaring at the gathering. "Does anyone else have anything to add to this cock-up, or can I finish this briefing before my arthritis ointment wears off?" Silence fell around the table, and McCleary cleared his throat with a hacking cough before continuing. "Thank you. Now, as I was sayin', we've got our location. Metabug collection, containment and transport are covered. Lab geeks have estimated we shouldn't need to penetrate more than half a kilometer in, so the chances of hitting any methane pockets are pretty low; still, it ain't out of the question, so use of heavy explosives is gonna be limited until we're on our way back out. We get in, hit the fuckers with some shock 'n' awe, get what we're after, and then we shut 'em down hard. Any questions?"<br><br>Chester immediately raised one arm, a hopeful expression on his face, and McCleary pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh.<br><br>"Any questions that don't involve nicknames, codenames, or call signs?"<br><br>Chester let his hand sink back into his lap with a soft groan of defeat.<br><br>McCleary clapped his hands once, the rough calloused leather of his palms producing a sound like a gunshot. "Alright then...let's go bug huntin!"
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				Title: <strong>Re: Bug Hunt! Mission 1 -- Potts Point (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>bubby</strong> on <strong>16-01-2012, 23:24:58</strong>
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				They were air-born, and for the first time there was a smile upon Kate's face. It was a toothy grin, but it was definitely there. One hand came out to grasp as much as was allowable to the edge of the metal 'dash', readying for the impending hard contact. As the nose hit, a grunt was forced from her, upper body snapping forward as she took the crash with practiced ease and a sharp bark of a laugh.<br><br>Pjtor knew how to show a girl a good time, and from the corner of her eye she noted that twitch to his mouth. He was in his element, and oohhhh she couldn't wait to get behind the wheel, and join him in his exuberance. Such as it was. Her eyes raked their surroundings as they tore through the Area headed for Potts Point. Eventually their destination was gained, and in a glorious manner in her opinion. The massive hunk of metal was powered down after ramming into the Command Center, and Kate simply had to chuckle at the grumbled “Dizmount” thrown towards the Marauder's occupants. They all exited, re-arranging gear, and she followed suit, swinging her rifle over her shoulder, patting all pockets to make sure extra ammo still remained within their confines, and a new cigar finding it's way between her teeth. A match was struck and set to tip perfectly, bringing her dark eyes to a gleam as she sucked the stogie to life, watching and listening to the others surrounding her. In the cloud of smoke she gave a nod to herself, seeming to come to grips with an inner conflict.<br><br>As was her want she did not speak as the rest rattled on about “who's got point” and radio gear. Not that she wasn't aware of the importance of such matters. It just wasn't her thing. Kate was not the leader here, nor did she want to be. Rounding the Marauder behind the rest of the crew her gaze fell upon McCleary and his barking and blaming. Quite the colorful talker he was, and she found it amusing. There wasn't even a twitch as the mention of probably getting killed was added to his tirade. Moving into the building, she didn't waste time sitting, knowing they would be on the move soon enough. She did become very intent as the map came up and the mission was as outlined. She listened carefully as Eliza chimed in, and lofted a brow at the young seeming Chester. Soon enough it was done, and McCleary was giving them the reigns. <br><br>Time to kill things....<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Bug Hunt! Mission 1 -- Potts Point (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Blue Leah</strong> on <strong>20-01-2012, 16:25:49</strong>
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				In spite of himself, Kyle feels a sort of nostalgia as he listens to the cranky old commander snap and flash his teeth at both the new recruits and the established crew alike. Kind of like being back in boot camp, only nobody's being run around the yard in their skivvies. <br><br>When they're dismissed, the ex-soldier re-joins the rest of his group, keeping Wanda's nose pointed carefully towards the ceiling. The longer the day goes, the more Kyle is starting to feel at home... and he actually breaks from "work-mode" for a minute as he looks around at his new team. <br><br>"Should be interesting..." He says, letting his shoulders muscles loose for the moment. Live together, fight together, party together, die together... and hopefully not all in the same day. A slow grin spreads across the marksman's lips as his old unit's motto pops back up to mind, and he meets everyone's eyes equally. Even Miss Standoffish. "What do you all say? Last to bag a bug buys drinks for the unit?" 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Bug Hunt! Mission 1 -- Potts Point (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Starlequin</strong> on <strong>23-01-2012, 20:16:06</strong>
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				Pjotr strolled to the Command Center after McCleary had vented his colorful speech about the team's tardiness, rather unfazed, mostly because he had only got half of what had been addressed at him. What was a <strong>Hell'o'kitty</strong>, anyway? Probably some kind of odd weapon some crazy engineer had come up with lately. McCleary's family apparently held early education in proper weapon handling in the same high regards as his parents did. Pjotr's respect for the old roughneck grew even further.<br><br>He disposed of the cigarette with his left while hinting at a proper salute to Mayor Higgins as he stepped into the building. Pjotr situated himself left of the table in the briefing room. Eliza pressed a folder of mission notes into his hands.&nbsp; He quickly skimmed through the pages, listening with half an ear to what McCleary said. Nothing really new, other than this time they'd actually try to enter the nest. Eliza's interjection made him look up and at her.<br><br><em>'The virus wasn't airborne, was it?'</em>, Pjotr thought as he tried to remember when he'd last checked the filters on his helmet. Just when he came to the conclusion that he'd probably be fine, a young man came into the room and was introduced as Chester Banning, who promptly began to enthusiastically speak of his creation, only to be interrupted by Mayor Higgins. Pjotr would have liked to hear more, but he'd probably have enough time to look at the weapon at the nest. Particularly, the CO2-canister's sounded like an awful lot of recoil, especially in tandem with the mass of a grappling hook; that might be an recipe for bruises, if mishandled. He looked at the other members of the team and dismissed the thought of indicating that to them, as they were probably experienced enough to operate improvised weapons with care. Following McCleary's dismissal, while walking to the exit, Pjotr overheard the words of the man he presumed to be an ex-soldier. He grunted in approval - If the mission was a success, he might even end up buying the first round.<br><br>As the motley squad headed out and approached the vehicles, McCleary barked a few last-second orders. "Listen up, people! Make sure all comms are channel-synced; Test one two, test one two, this is Ahab the Arab," he said into his own radio and nodded as the others did the same, the brief bursts of static confirming reliable communications. "There're some headsets on the Marauder to serve as auxillary units, if I'm not mistaken. If you're not familiar with the technology, talk to your driver; he should be rated to help you out. I'm gonna be in the containment truck with Banning; we're going to be right on your six until we reach the target zone. I want status reports at least every five miles, with constant contact if things start gettin' sticky. Am I clear?" His eyes were set on the driver. <br><br>"<em>Da</em>." <br><br>McCleary glanced skyward and expelled a breath between gritted teeth. <em>'Oh, yeah. This is gonna be fun on a bun,'</em> he thought with a roll of his eyes. He spat on the ground and shook his head. "I'm just gonna take that as a yes. It's gonna be rough ride, people. Make sure your junk is packed and stowed proper; I don't want anyone scrambling for their lucky charms in the middle of a bugfight. Although judging by that arrival, whatever hasn't come unstuck yet will probably survive whatever gets thrown at us. Mount up, people. Let's get this rolling buffet underway." <br><br>After everyone had found a seat on their respective vehicle, the convoy began its trip to bug infested grounds, driving away from the west-wandering sun, casting shadows ahead of the mechanical monsters as they rumbled toward the horizon. <br><br><hr><br>*SHRKT* "Befa<em>r</em>e, julies*KRK*'e<em>r</em>", the driver's voice blared out of the radio. Frowning, McCleary stared at the vehicle ahead as it wiggled lightly on its wheels.<br><br>*SHRKT* "Repeat, over."<br><br>*SHRKT* "I zad, befa<em>r</em>e, <em>r</em>uff g<em>roond</em>, over."<br><br>"What the hell is that mush-mouth talking about?" McCleary asked, growling to himself. "I think he..", began Chester, only to be interrupted by the truck jolting heavily, as the front-wheels dipped into a shallow gully. ".. said that there is a gully ahead." McCleary shot an armor-piercing glare at Banning. "...was", Chester meekly corrected. Still staring, the aged soldier spoke into the radio, his words dripping with sarcasm: <br><br>*SHRKT* "Thanks for the heads up. How about next time you just hang your ass out the window and fart the message back at us?" He threw the radio on the dashboard, deflating back into his seat. The ground was becoming increasingly uneven and the truck's suspension was adjusted a tad too hard for the heavy containers on its bed. As a result, the ride was just short of painful and every ground wave was acknowledged by a disconcerting crash. Banning addressed the issue. "We might need to slow down, boss. This truck isn't really suited for this kind of terrain." McCleary glanced at the young driver. "What're you talkin' about? This truck's rated as a Class II Transport, it's supposed to be perfect for these ground conditions?" "Well yeah, boss, usually. But I had to jack the suspension way past original specs in order to support the containment units, and the biggest bolts I could use to mount them were 3/4"ers. They'll hold any bugs we can jam in them, but too much external pressure will risk ripping them right off the truck." Nodding, McCleary reached for the radio. <br><br>*SHRKT* "McCleary here. We have a bit of a situation here. Decelerate, over." The Marauder showed no signs of slowing down.<br><br>*SHRKT* "I said decelerate. Acknowledge, Roadrage, over."<br><br>*SHRKT* "Corpy zat, over", came the answer of the Russian driver. His actions belied his answer, however - the Marauder sped up. McCleary grunted in disbelief. "I can't wait for Alzheimer's to rescue me from morons like this," he muttered as he gripped the radio in a white-knuckled fist. <br><br>*SHRKT* "I said DE!celerate, not AC!celerate! Aw, hell, that's it. Pull it over, Barishnikov; give one of the others the wheel. Over." McCleary almost yelled into the transceiver. <br><br><hr><br>Pjotr braked, slowly, while glaring through the side mirror at the person in the passenger seat. Both vehicles came to a halt, being overtaken by the dust clouds they had whipped up in their wake. He looked at the woman beside him, carefully inspecting her face, as if to find any kind of malicious glee. <em>'Seems like you get your chance sooner than expected,'</em> he thought cooly. "Take ove<em>r</em>." He surrendered the hand-held radio to her and rose from his seat. Instead of just switching seats with her, Pjotr went to the back, looking at the floor, searching for the basket he had placed there. He found it wedged under one of the seats, probably flung in there by one of his less careful maneuvers. Kneeling, he extracted its contents and affixed them to his armor, while he addressed his teammates: "Change in plans." Last, he put on his helmet. It locked itself into the collar of his armor with a satisfying, clicking sound. The right side of the integrated heads-up display was filled with a rapidly scrolling table, indicating that the operating system was starting up. It vanished after a few seconds, replaced with the usual read-outs. Pjotr straightened up as far as was possible and opened the hatch in the roof. Standing on the footstep, he attached one of the magazines to the gun, chambering a round afterwards. Pjotr turned to face the truck behind them and raised a hand in both a salute and as a signal that he was set for a continuation of their trip with a miraculously procured cigarette in the corner of his mouth. <br><br><hr><br>*SHRKT* "Alright. Who's our next contestant? Over." His question was promptly answered. Easily understandable.<br><br>*SHRKT* "Well, at least you don't sound like you're trying to talk around a bag of otter testicles. Now, bring'er up to thirty, and remember to keep an eye on the skies. Over." &nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Bug Hunt! Mission 1 -- Potts Point (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>bubby</strong> on <strong>30-01-2012, 02:52:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Kate's dark eyes met Kyle's and a sly wink would be given to him as he spoke about a round of drinks. A nice cold beer would be lovely...<br><br>...Finally back outside, readying to slip back into the passenger seat without even calling shotgun, (she figured at this point it was pretty much implied!), she listened to the orders once more given to them by MacCleary. Settling into the highly uncomfortable seat, slender fingers slipped on one of the headsets while the other hand situated her weapon into a better spot, readying for Pjotr's driving. Soon enough they were off, and it was obvious the Russian relished taking his driving to the limit. The radio battle between MacCleary and Pjotr and the subsequent careening of the Marauder through a gully brought another bark of laughter, even as the Russian practically put his foot through the floorboard as he gunned into further to life. Then MacCleary was screaming into the com and the Marauder was slowing down, and SHE was the one being glared at! Oh but she met Pjotr's gaze, and a dark brow would loft. There was nothing malicious in her return gaze, but perhaps there was a bit of confusion. Why <em>had</em> he sped up? Surely he understood English better then he spoke it. As he handed her the reigns she would simply nod, easing off the head radio and taking over the hand-held. Silently Kate would watch as he made his way to the top gunner position, then those dark, gleaming orbs would settle on each of the crew members, the silence itself almost deafening, until her cool velvety timbre broke it. “ Change in plans indeed. Hold on kids, momma's driving now...” chuckling low, she would turn to grasp the wheel, hearing the voice of MacCleary crackling over the radio. <br><br>*SHRKT* "Alright. Who's our next contestant? Over."<br><br>“ Kate here. Sir. Over.”<br><br>*SHRKT* "Well, at least you don't sound like you're trying to talk around a bag of otter testicles. Now, bring'er up to thirty, and remember to keep an eye on the skies. Over." <br><br>“I prefer my testicles to be of the human persuasion. And talking means you're not doing it right. Thirty, and eyes are peeled. Sir. Over.”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Bug Hunt! Mission 1 -- Potts Point (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Blue Leah</strong> on <strong>31-01-2012, 20:34:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Kyle has jumped out of planes, rappelled down cliff-faces, and hidden from mortars in the hollowed out shells of civilian buildings... but he has never, ever been as terrified for his life as he is in the back seat of the russian's mini-tank. They're spending so much time in the air that the marksman half expects them to just take off and fly away at some point... but every blissful moment of near-zero gravity is ended by an abrupt, rocky return down to earth, and the heavy "thump" of Wanda against his knees. It actually gets bad enough that the marksman has to eject the clip from his gun, just to make sure he doesn't accidentally shoot off a round before the actual fun begins... <br><br>Finally, the old man who gave them the job starts bellowing over the radio for them to stop driving like maniacs, and for someone else to take the wheel. For a second, at least, Kyle breathes a sigh of relief...<br><br>Until Miss Standoffish herself takes the wheel, and Kyle sees the smoldering smirk forming on Kate's lips. Try as he might, the former serviceman can't seem to get a read on this girl. One minute, she's blowing them all off and acting like the whole world deserves a bullet in the face; the next, she's winking and grinning like a babysitter who just found her charge's hidden stash of dirty mags. <br><br>Great. Now Kyle feels even <em>more</em> nervous. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Bug Hunt! Mission 1 -- Potts Point (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sanai</strong> on <strong>01-02-2012, 10:47:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Nydia had not bothered to leave the vehicle, perfectly capable of listening to the others and the briefing from her position. When the vehicle got moving again, she smiled, enjoying the ride as the Marauder really went all-terrain, a giggle escaping from her lips. Then the vehicle stopped momentarily, as they changed drivers. Nydia sighed, disapointed about the change. She really had been having fun for a moment there.<br><br>As the vehicle got moving again, Nydia ran her communications software, a brieft burst of static over the radiowaves signalling that she had achieved connection to the comm frequencies. She then closed her eyes, an image of various lines and waves moving over the area superimposing over her vision , as she looked at a virtual representation of the areas comm traffic, hardlines and electrical activity. Her fingers traced lightly through the air as she reached out. Sometimes she felt as if she could almost touch those lines with her fingers...... but she could only touch them with her comm implant, as with a though she set her implant to relay all comm traffic directly to her auditory senses.<br><br>Opening her eyes, Nydia brushed her soft brown hair aside from her face, and began to softly hum to the tune of an old rhyme that was created to teach children in bug infested areas to run and hide.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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