As Nathan entered the messhall, he'd make his way swiftly to where he had been seated. Though in the back of his mind he had convinced himself that the bag would still be there, that was not the case.

"Shit..." Quickly he began scouring over the nearby area, looking under and around the table before setting off to scan the rest of the room. Sure enough, it was no longer there, "Shit, shit, shit..."

"Are you looking for the bag that was over here?" an unfamiliar voice resounded behind Nathan, causing the man to turn his attention form his search. A rather unremarkable man stood before him, but he had Nathan's complete attention at the mention of his bag.

"Yes! Did you see who snagged it?"

"One of the officers. Gerlach, I think. She picked it up, and headed off-" As the man began pointing out the direction fo which the woman had left, Nathan bolted past him before the crew-mate could finish talking. Sure enough, the visage of a limping woman carrying his bag over her shoulder came into view. A mix of relief and surprise washed over the man, debating how he should approach the situation as his frantic sprint now turned into a purposeful walk. He didn't want to see too eager to get his effects back, but as he came close, his fingers twitched in anticipation.

"Officer Gerlach, right?" He spoke out, his voice seeming rather calm despite his racing thoughts, "Appreciate you holding onto that... Must've slipped my mind to pick it up as I left."

Night started to descend upon the small island where the Dusicyon was docked. Though most of the crew was still out and enjoying their last night of solid ground under their feet, the officers had gathered into the officer's lounge. The lights, though dimmed and relaxing, did not hide them or their faces as they sat at a small round table. Six of them while Cyrus stood nearby and washed down the bar.

Renault sat at the "head" of the circular table, Faulkner to his right with Cassandra past him. Grissom sat across from Renault with Carson next to him, and Greyson finishing up the line on Renault's left. "Glad to have us all assembled...an hour late." He glared at Faulkner. He simply smiled in response.

Reaching forward, The Captain placed a small metal sphere in the middle fo the table. He positioned it so that a button was upwards. He hit it and small legs popped out the bottom half of the sphere, holding it in place as a holographic map was projected above the table. It filled with vibrant colors as the sphere adjusted to pictures taken by Renault's spies and informants and the officers watched as A City was shown.

"This is Tirbetha, our home to be. Do not let the look fool you, there are very few people here nowadays. Ulysses Tronik and less than a hundred of his Lost Wolves are left there to defend the place. Just a few days ago, his first lieutenant incited a rebellion, a mass mutiny that spread across his fleet. Hundreds were killed and hundreds more fell under the lieutenant's command and took off. His officers were killed and Ulysses could do nothing. We are the first to hear about this, thus is why we're pushing to take it." He waited a moment for anybody to speak up before continuing.

When nobody did, he clicked the button on the hologram sphere again and it cycled images, producing a shot at many of the City Streets.. "There are a lot of nooks and crannys in Tirbetha, I know much of it like the back of my hand. Grissom, Faulkner, and I have been devising strategy and we have come up with one that works quite well. Carson." He looked at her, locking eyes with her. "You will be the highest ranking combat specialist on the ship. Grissom will be piloting while you provide support, hand pick your gunnery crew in the morning. Faulker, myself, and several others will be hot dropping out to the ground and besieging the villas and clearing out wolves. Soon after landfall I'll be splitting off to hunt down Ulysses. I refuse to let him escape. Questions?"

"Several, actually," Greyson spoke with a hint of cynicism. When Renault turned his way, he spoke up again, "But for your sake, I'll give you just the one: Do you know if Ulysses has an airship of his own?" An important issue by far, Grey believed, and hoped Renault could share some level of concern. While the Crimson Dusicyon seemed to hold air superiority in the coming battle, even so much as one other airship could dramatically alter the course of the plan; whether it be a gunship to fight back, or a personal escape craft for Ulysses himself.

"When the mutiny took place, my spies sabotaged any ships that remained. They were thorough, they're sitting ducks."

Greyson made no more than a grunt of acknowledgement at the captain's answer, apparently satisfied. After a brief moment more, he raised a pointing hand up and called out, "Whiskey on the rocks."

"While this all sounds very cut and dry what are your plans should things... Not go according to plan? Disastrous or otherwise?" Carson asked.

"Don't stop killing until your last breath is drawn. We're in the cloud sea, there is nowhere to run. "

"Ah, so we win or die. I guess I'll be helping myself to another chocolate malt then. Tomorrow should be interesting," she smiled a little.

Cyrus yelled out from the bar, stuttering a bit. "A-a malt? I think I have some milk somewhere....WAIT. FOUND IT. Making Malts! I've...never actually had one...shit, I have to melt a chocolate bar for this...WHY IS THERE CHOCOLATE BARS BACK HERE AND NO FRICKEN CHOCOLATE SYRUP BY THE WAY?!" More grumblings could be barely heard from where the officers were sitting as Cyrus whined to nobody in particular, taking out chocolate bars and heating them over an open flame.
____

As the captain finished the meeting, Cyrus strode up with a small cloth pouch in hand. "Sir, sensors were tripped at the beginning of the meeting. Didn't want to disturb, and don't get mad, but I found this." He opened the bag and inside was a small spider bot, Faris. It was disabled for the most part. The crease on the captain's brow furrowed deep with anger and he took the bag.

"Thank you for this, Cyrus. I will take care of this personally."

Later that night.

Nathaniel would find himself in searing pain, shocked out of sleep as a boot kicked him in the ribs, knocking him out of bed. He sprang up to see the Captain's face in normal lighting. The rest of the crew looked on the scene from all around in their various bunks. "At attention, Norstrom." He did as he was ordered and stepped around and stood at attention. The captain held out the cloth bag that was found earlier and grabbed it from the bottom, holding it upside down and dumping out the contents. Disassembled pieces and parts fell out. Faris was completely dismantled and it's pieces clattered and clanged on the ground. The motherboard and memory chip landed near each other and Renault wasted no time using his foot to push them into a small stack and plant his foot just above them, threatening to crush them.

"Let me make something clear, Norstrom. I do not tolerate spying on my ship, nor do I tolerate insubordination or mutiny. If I catch you spying on my dealings, dealings that you have no business knowing, I will personally ensure that you are introduced to the concept of "Flogging." Is that completely understood?"

Slightly confused and infuriated by the sudden events, Nathan did his best to bite his tongue. However, his attention was suddenly drawn to the contents of the bag that now laid strewn upon the floor beneath them. Though confused at first, the realization came upon him... The random pile of parts? Faris. All at once, his ire turned to fear, his eyes flickering back and forth between the captain's and the parts at his feet.

"No!" Nathan shouted, reaching out for the pieces of the dismantled Faris as Renault's boot thrust down towards them. When the captain held his stomp, Nortstrom swallowed hard, the captain now having his undivided attention. Nathan couldn't help but feel the sweat forming upon his brow, his hands twitching slightly in anticipation. The threatening of physical violence against himself did not phase Nathan at all, but the fact that his childhood friend was in danger -inanimate though it was- was enough to make him submit, "Understood, Sir." Though he did his best to maintain his composure, it's clear the events had shaken the man.

The Captain brought away his foot, letting the crewman pick up the pieces. "Good." He turned towards the other crew members and nodded once, walking out of the room without another word.

______

The crew wasn't allowed to sleep away the morning like the previous day. They were abruptly woken up at a brisk five AM and were told to report to the cafeteria for briefing. Once the crew was in the cafeteria, Renault stood on the same spot above the cafeteria as the previous evening. "Crew of the Dusicyon. Today, we assault the haven of the infamous Lost Wolves. Terrors of the cloud sea and beyond. We will be attacking the city in two squads. A ground team, and a sky team. General Faulkner and myself will lead the ground team while Liason Gerlach will control the sky team. Faulkner, if you would."

Faulkner stepped forward from behind and placed his hands on the rail, his voice boomed over the Cafeteria, giving everybody a shock. "Alright, Maggots! Ground team will have two goals! Disable artillery and executing that scraggly faced fuck, Captain Ulysses. Cyrus, Cari, Travis, Nathaniel, and Niesha. You will be joining the Captain and I on our crusade. Go to the armory and ready up. We will be hot dropping right into the city and killing any pirate we see. The rest of the crew will remain on the ship and make sure not one single bastard gets off of the island! @Demontongue SPEAKING of which, Gerlach, if you would."

A sudden thud was heard as Cari's body hit the floor. As she placed her hands on the hard surface she pushed herself up into a sitting position so she leaned against the side of her bed, and slowly ran her fingers through her hair. Looking forward she could see the empty bottle of spirits resting on the floor on the other side of the room. Not knowing how she got it or why she decided to drink it she let out a subtle groan and leaned over towards the mess pile on the end of her bed in order to grab her clothes.

As she sat there in her underwear she slowly pulled a shirt over her head and then proceeded to try and stand so she could put on her skirt, jumper and stockings. The room swayed slightly as her head gained altitude and in an effort to regain balance she tipped over towards the wall and used her hand as a prop.

"Definitely a bit much to drink last night..."

Several moments later Cari stepped out of her room and closed the door behind her, hearing the familiar click of it locking. As she walked along the corridor she threw her uniquely designed jacket over her shoulders, allowing the neon urban print to announce itself to the world that this was 'Cari Cruz'. While she moved towards her destination she reached behind her back and felt around for the pair of pistols that she usually had equipped, making sure that her hangover state hadn't forgotten a key part of her survival. Satisfied, she swung her arms back around crossing them over back and forth as she warmed herself up for the day ahead.

Cari stepped into the Cafeteria just as Captain Renault began his speech and listened to the proposed plan for the day.

Nikola

Nikola had never been askeed that question before and thus was never given the excuse to come up with an answer, not even for his own sake. He looked over at Dorkface and nodded, she indeed did not have a dorky face and he knew that beneath that animal head was intelligence far beyond what should be there. His mind went off track for a few moments beofre he openned his mouth, an answer had come to him out of the blue of his distraction and it seemed to suit the question quite nicely.

"You will have to forgive," he began, "My english is... Not good." he began to explain the origins of his pet's name.

Nikola came to know Dorkface when he was an adolescent, wandering the streets of his smokey, smoggy island looking for work. He was plonked on top of a crate, taking a break from his job searching, when a small furry creature romped over; it sat infront of the crate, on it's hindlegs, and looked up at him. As a young boy going through rough times he had only one thing to say to it.

"Go away! Dork face!" to add insult to injury he spat at the little rodent and it seemed to have gotten the message as it instantly scurried off. After that day the little creature popped up constantly and again an again he had to get it to leave by yelling the same phrase, as his english was bad and he didn't know anything else to call it. Eventualy he grew use to having the animal around and with no thought of naming it, Dorkface kind of stuck.



Dorkface had not slept because Nikola had not slept, the prior night she had followed Nikola to his bed room thinking that it was time to sleep but it seemed that Nikola had other things in mind. From it's position leaned up against the wall, he hefted up a sheet of glass and plonked it down on top of his desk, it had grid lines all over it and upon brushing his hands over it a white light glowed on it's surface beofre a hologram projected upwards. It was a map of Tirbetha; from what he assumed, black beard still had a ship and after scanning the city over he decided that there would only be a few locations that it would be. Why was he intersted? Parts.

He estimated that the ship did not have long left before the engines would break down to the point they could not be repaired, scrap parts would no longer do as they only seemed to last a few months, he kept teling himself that at least, the truth was that the ship was running dangerously low on scrap and with prey fewer and farther between, it was becoming harder to maintain the engines.

Nikola sighed and looked down at the grated cat-walk beneath his feet, there the engine purred soundly, not knowing the fate that would befall it if parts were to run out; Nikola's heart reached out to it, he wasn't going to let anything happen to his baby.



Nikola could not wait and hear what Gerlach had to say, he needed to speak with the captain immediatly. Ducking out of the cafeteria, Nikola rushed to the elevator with a small, frightened Dorkface on his shoulder. 'Why is he in such a hurry?' as she was rocked around, letting out a silent sigh of relief as he stepped into the elevator and punched a button to take them to the officer's area, 'Going Down.' she thought as they whizzed downwards.

The doors to the elevator whooshed open and Nikola was hit by the gentle draft of an air-conditioned room, it felt like he was being kissed by thousands of tiny mouths; he looked down to see Dorkface licking his chin.

"My captain?" he hissed, looking around for their one-eyed leader.

This mornings actions had all but taken their toll on Nathan, seeing him briskly pick up the part to his dismantled comrade and rush off to the nearest work bench. He seemed to not recognize anything else around him, only grabbing what tools he needed before working in dead silence. If he had been beaten by the captain, he would've preferred it- having spent years being beaten an broken by his former captors, but being without Faris: his one true friend through out those dark days? That was more than he could bear. This work would continue for continue for awhile, seeming to take great care in the reconstruction.

"Damnit, Faris. I told you," Nathan whispered under his breath, fitting the mother board in place on it's on both the top and bottom side of the board before them in place, "That was too close... Remind me to start revamping your AI." Then it was back to the silence, his creation slowly taking on the look of it's former form. In about two hours time, the reconstructed Faris sat before him- though still idle upon the counter as his mechanical limbs lay sprawled out from his central body. Yet, as he let out a sigh of relief, one could tell Nathan was almost hesitant to reactivate his companion. 'The board and memory hit the ground pretty hard... What if he damaged a circuit or capacitor? Granted I could find another one later, but I'd have to completely rewrite his programming. It wouldn't be the same Faris," These thoughts would echo inside the mechanics mind as he continued to look down.

"Well... Here goes nothing," Reaching over, he fastened the last bit of cabling to the motherboard and sealed up the body with one final screw. Pausing for a moment, his hand would raise to the communicator beside his head, pressing along the side as the device lit up with a bright blue light, "Faris, wake up." He spoke aloud into the come just shy of the corner of his mouth. No response.

"Faris. Wake up." Still nothing

In a small fit of rage, he'd slam his fist upon the bench on either side of the creation, now yelling into the mic, "Faris! GET UP!" As if provoked by his anger, the little automaton lept to it's feet, and began skittering around as if looking for something. As it's optical sensor slowly rounded towards the form of it's master; the little machine would move it's self to Nathan's hand, and begin climbing up to his shoulder. For the first time since he had began working, it seemed that Nathan was completely at ease now, "I shold've left you disassembled. Giving me a heart-attack like that."

the previous night

Niesha smiled at the story and commented that Dorkface then was a fine name for the ferret, before excusing herself, deciding that that was enough socialization today, and that she might risk insulting Nikola if she continued any further. She retreated to her bed, and gathered her bow and arrows.

She rigged up a target, not wanting to damage the ship with any arrow, she wasn't particularly worried about strays. It had been a long time since she had missed her target.

She shot arrows for a few hours, before retreating to bed. There were times when Niesha felt extremely Lonely, and now was one of those times. She sighed to herself, wondering if she should hunt someone up, or if she should have asked Nikola if ferrets were a high maintenance pet. She cleaned herself up, before falling asleep.

the morning-present time

Niesha woke early, as was her habit. She rarely slept long in any case. It was, she suspected, due to the years she had been imprisoned, and on the street. So it was that she was awake when the announcement to go to the cafeteria was made. She trudged there, and claimed a seat, looking up at the announcement:

She went pale when her name was called for the ground team. She told herself it meant that her skills were recognized, but Niesha was terrified. She stared at her hands for a moment, before swallowing, and rising. She trudged to the armory, she stopped to get her bow and quiver. She closed her eyes, taking three deep breaths before continuing on.

She noticed Nikola hurrying off somewhere, Dorkface on his shoulder looking frightened and put out, clearly wondering what Nikola was doing why he was off in such a hurry. It made Niesha feel better and she smiled, continuing on her way. It didn't take her long to find the Armor that she wanted; going for light rather then heavy, she also chose gloves that would protect her hands, but allow her free movement. Her modified hand might be stronger then her non modified hand, but that didn't mean it still couldn't be damaged.

Besides, wearing one glove was just foolish.

She took another deep breath, and moved out the armory. She had many doubts about herself. Like would she be able to kill someone? She didn't know. But she knew she couldn't allow herself to let the captain, and the crew down. It just wasn't possible. She slung her bow over one shoulder when it was strung up, and the quiver over the other, after testing the feel of the gloves and that it wouldn't hinder her ability to shoot.

She headed to meet up, ready for the drop.

"Thank you General," she nodded.

Carson took the stand before the crew. She was already in her armor with her dreads pulled back into a neat tail. Expectant and sleepless eyes turned toward her as she hooked her hands behind her back, cleared her throat and began to speak.

"Blackbeard's forces are weakened and fractured, not defeated. Never underestimate the enemy especially when he is corned. Every single one of you will be on high alert through the entirety of the mission. Anyone found not at their post, woolgathering or otherwise slacking about will answer to me. Gunners, we will be providing cover and distraction for the ground team while they work to take the initial pressure off of us. We are not expecting ships, but there will be soldiers, ground units, barracks, walls and other obstacles along side the anti-air. Johannes, Grissom, keep our canons' line of sight open, but do not sacrifice our speed. We are more than likely to take a knock or two, let us just make it a challenge for them, shall we?'
'On that note; Gruffman, Quirke, Krusek. I need a preliminary inspection on our artillery, defenses and major systems. Keep maintenance on their toes and make sure you have everything you could possibly need to keep us in the air before we go in. You will keep us updated on the Dusicyon's status at all times and notify navigation and myself of any issues large or small. You are our last line of defense.'
'And Dr. Bishop, though we hope for the best, we cannot rule out the possibility of casualties when engaged in combat of any sort. I expect you at your post as well.'
'Should each one of us bring our full ferocity vigilance to this fight, we will succeed, we will be sitting on assets beyond imagination and we will show every person on this god-forsaken planet who really owns the skies."

With a slight bow and a glance toward the captain she stepped back. As the crowd dispersed and began to ready themselves she reported to the gun batteries to begin her own preparations.

Greyson gave a steep yawn as he managed to pull himself out of bed early that morning. The room didn't seem much larger than a cell, but the bunk was only uncomfortable at worst - it would still take some getting used to, all in all. He went though his mourning routine as quickly as he could afford, which now had to include him taking along his rifle and spare ammo for that. While he didn't shave too thoroughly anyway, Grey skipped out on that completely today, resulting in him seeming a bit more grizzly.

In the brief interval of time Greyson waited in the cafeteria, he ruminated over the plans laid down last night. Ultimately, even with the airship, some of the odds still seemed to be stacked against Renault. Blackbeard and his mates had a fairly large city to prance about in, and knowledge of all the places to look didn't always work so well in a practice like this. There was especially the idea that Renault would split away to deal with Blackbeard personally, essentially putting himself at great risk for a captain-to-captain struggle. Grey could only expect that something was going to come up, some fact or thing they couldn't anticipate that could turn the whole thing upside down.

Why the hell are you even complaining? You're not even being dropped into the fray, you just get to sit in the ship while the gunner mow down the opposition. God knows you've wanted some medium of actual control for years now.

Grey shook his head to clear his thoughts as the captain made his announcements. He had to get through this day first before he could start moaning about it. This was a ship of dirty pirates, but as long as he was aboard, Grey had to fight for it. Surely, after this first mission, things would start looking up with the Crimson Dusicyon having a dedicated base.

As the briefing ended, the assembly dispersed, with crew either moving to man the ship's battle stations or to join the drop team. Grey followed the streaming trails of people out of the cafeteria, soon making his own way towards the bridge. Though something of an able sharpshooter, Greyson was primarily being trusted with navigation alongside Grissom. If anything happened to the Dusicyson, he was going to take the brunt of the blame, so it was important he tossed aside all bias for the next few hours.

The mechanical glove moved his hand into a fist, tightening with a leathery crinkle. This wouldn't be the first time a ship was placed into his trust, but this would the time that truly mattered.

Renault turned as Nikola came out of the elevator and asked for him. He already knew what the man was here about and he had already faced the facts about this assault. This is a do or die mission. If they succeed, the Dusicyon would get all the repairs it needs and they would get the platform they would need to rebuild the Tiranade. If they fail, there would be no survivors. "Yes, Quirke. I am already aware of what you are going to say. Your mentor has kept me up to date with the condition of the engine and your worries." The captain approached him, placing a hand onto his shoulder. Renault stood a head and a half above Nikola and he was imposing, but there was a softness to his voice and posture. "Naturally, I know that you, Grufman, and Cyrek have been keeping the in the air. Your mentor has done well to exaggerate your talents, but he is not far off. Don't worry. We'll be fine in your hands."

Stepping past him, the captain stepped into the elevator and took it several floors down to the armory.

Cyrus was already down in the armory picking through a locker. The armory was small and heavily guarded, two pirates with heavy armor and assault rifles stood in front of a metal gate that barred access to all but authorized crewmates. Cyrus was doing several checks on his rifle, including checking the barrel, realigning the sights, polishing and hand loading them into magazines. Each one carried four rounds but each bullet was a 50. Caliber bullet. He slipped the magazine into it's slot and slapped it in, turning on the safety before moving onto his magnum.

He repeated the process of checking each part and sight before polishing bullets and preparing magnum cylinders for quick reloading. He finished his weapons checks by polishing and sharpening his sword with a whetstone. A primitive tool, but it did the job as well as all the electromagnetamahoohah stuff that Cyrus hated. He slipped into his armor, hooking the metal plates to his shoulders over the light bending suit he wore. He already had his orders to sit back from the battle and follow via rooftops. He made sure that his hip-based grappling hook was battle ready. He pulled up his hood after securing the metal mask and clicked a button on his wrist. The clothing and armor synced up nicely and hexagonal shapes appeared along the metal and cloth, flipping over and enabling the light bending technology that made him nearly invisible.

Once he finished testing his armor he synced up his weapons and confirmed that they worked just as well he finally looked up from his work to see the captain preparing his own weapons. "Hey cap, going with the shield tech today?"

The captain just nodded slowly as he ran through several of the same checks as Cyrus with his own weapons. He stood there watching the captain for a few minutes before feeling like things were quickly getting awkward and scooted out quickly, heading to the elevator and taking it down to the launch bay. Once there, he stepped out to see the others ready to receive their jump gear from Faulkner, whom was patiently standing next to a large black box. He joined the ground team and mingled a bit. "Oh hey there, Cari. I like the crayola hood." He gestured towards her hood and smiled, though it was after he smiled that he realized that he still had his helmet on and he just looked like an ass staring at the robot lady. He promptly shut up.

Renault finally showing up was the cue that Faulkner needed to begin his little speech about what he had in the black box. He opened it up and started to hand out foot long black sticks to everybody. "Alright you sorry excuse for MAGGOTS-"

"Rude." Cyrus blurted out. Faulkner went to slap him upside the head but a clearing of throat from Renault kept him in check.

"AS I WAS SAYING. These are your wing sticks. We will be using this confusing fucking contraptions to drop to the haven, skimming the top side of the clouds in a holographic camouflage and infiltrating like the badasses we are. Once we make landfall, stick together and make a nice and pretty distraction for the Sky team. They will be doing most of the damage to the haven." Once he had them all handed out, he stepped over to a guard rail and hit a button on a pole that was sticking out. Underneath the ship, a man sized hatch opened that unleashed the whipping torrent of winds from outside the ship into the launch bay. Hoods were blown off and clothing started to whip back and forth violently as the group struggled to hold still from the gale force winds of the Dusicyon moving so fast towards it's target.

"You get one tutorial. It's so easy to do that you weren't briefed. Twist it in the middle, disconnect, and make an X with your body in the air. The glider will do the rest." Faulkner didn't wait for questions as he and Renault dived over the hand rail and into the cloud sea at the same time, falling through the hatch. Much of the crew looked at one another, wondering who will make the move first. Cyrus stepped up then, walking up to the rail and flipping the baton in his hand.

"Well. On the list of best ways for me to go out, This would be pretty high up there! He yelled as he fell over the side and fell into the clouds as the others followed suit. Just as he left the hatch, the Dusicyon was far ahead of them and Cyrus was falling to his doom. He fumbled with the baton for a few moments before he finally twisted it with both hands, disconnected each end and struggled to make an X with his body. When he flattened out and did it, a bright white Hologram formed over the back of his body. It was larger and thicker than he was and it caught the wind, knocking what was left out of his lungs and propelling him high into the skies. He gasped for breath as his heart pounded and his ears stung from changing altitudes so quickly, but he started to float down and catch the wind. He wiggled his arms and tested the maneuverability. It was very close to actually flying like some superhero out of a comic. Bringing his arms together would reduce the size of the hologram and let him pick up speed, fanning them out would enlarge it, lowering an arm would bank and turn.

When he finally looked up from the clouds, he was greeted by a great spectacle, the open sky above him with the sun unobstructed, making the cloud sea glow in splendor, the city of Tirbetha was on the horizon, acting as a glorious beacon.

Without more than a few moments notice, he was catching up to the captain along the cloud sea floor, riding the wind and going for the large island in the distance. It was hazy on the horizon, but it was closing fast. They would be there in less than a half hour and he could already feel his trigger finger itching.

Once grouped up with the rest of ground team, they started to ride one another's turbulence, cutting the trip to the island in half. They went unnoticed into the city, but they were still made very well aware of the flak cannons and anti-air going off in an attempt to down the Dusicyon before the attack even begun. Due to the fact that they were still firing like mad, their plan hasn't worked yet. The rest of the team landed promptly and Renault spoke first. Alright, ground team. Fan out and find your way towards the AA guns. They are your first priority. There are four on the island. Try not to destroy them. Remember, we are taking the island not destroying it. I will move on my own to the city mansion where Ulysses will be. One of the AA guns is in the mansion courtyard, I will take it out myself."

"Wait, you can't go alone. I'll go with you," Said Faulkner in protest.

"I will be fine. I know every corner and stone of this place, this was once my home. I will not get caught. Concentrate on taking down those AA guns and clearing out pirates. Do not trust any citizen. If you see a weapon on them, shoot first ask questions later. You have no allies other than your crewmates here. Pay them the same mercy they would offer you, crew." With that, Faulkner saluted the captain and he returned the gesture before taking off into an alleyway, leaving the ground team to start the operation with the AA gun just down the street from where they are now. Cyrus was quick to get started by using his grappling hook to hook onto the roof of a building next to them. He reeled it in and climbed up the side, intending to provide sniper support from above.

Cari stood with her other companions at the launch bay awaiting for the drop to take place. Earlier that morning she had just previously listened to her captain and one of his officers, Carson Gerlach, give their brief on the raid that they were about to embark on. She took note of the team that Cari was allocated to and each person she was accompanying. First there was Travis, a man that would probably put up a good fight with the amount of weapons he had equipped; followed by Niesha, an archer that used a modified weapon of the old world, but sometimes those weapons were more reliable and precise when compared to the technology of today that they had all become dependent on; thirdly Nathaniel, a very mechanically minded individual with a personal scout droid and skill in stealth that Cari would find useful to team up with...

"Oh hey there, Cari. I like the crayola hood." @Vash

...and Cyrus, their specialty sniper and bartender. His identity was fairly obvious as he was the only one on the list of attendees who's face was not visible to the rest of the crew. Cari rolled her eyes at the statement and took a side look at him, noting the humble like composure that he was currently expressing.

"Every time!" Cari laughed quietly, loosing count at how often Cyrus referred to her jacket as the 'Crayola Hoody', "Oh, and you owe me a proper drink. I had to resort to this battery acid like crap last night."

After each crew member was given a very half-arsed tutorial on how to use the wing sticks, Renault and Faulkner made their dive for the rendezvous point, leaving the crew to follow in their steps. Cari stepped forward onto the open ledge and felt the wind whip against her body and forcing her hoodie to slip off her head. As her hair to wave wildly behind her she held within her right hand the wing stick that Faulkner has issued them. Cari stepped forward, taking the first paces slowly before proceeding with a small jog, before finally ending with graceful leap of fate.

Cari fell out of the belly of the great beast and pulled apart the wing sticks in order to create the Hologram like squirrel suit. She could feel the change in speed and air pressure as it opened out, allowing her to glide along the sea of vaporised water. Around her were other crew members, all experiencing the same rush as her as they felt like birds traveling through the open skies.

Tirbetha came into view as the team passed through the haze and followed Renault to their landing zone. Each flyer landed on the open surface and they all quickly gathered together for a team meeting. Renault announced his plan of action to the others before heading off on his own personal endeavor towards Blackbeard. The disgruntled General turned towards the members he had left before kneeling down on the ground and dropping a small metallic cube into the center of the group. Instantly a holographic 3D map of the city arose and slowly rotated around showing off every angle of the city.

"Alright. Our Captain has decided to head off, ON HIS OWN, towards the City Mansion. The three remaining AA guns are located here, here, and here," With each point a bright blip ignited on the map. "Remember! Under no circumstances are we to destroy these stations."

Cari stood there looking down at the map, noting that their first AA meeting point was only 15 minutes away. With little warning, Faulker closed the map, stood up and commanded his troops to move out. Cari headed off towards the AA's location, entering the city limits and moved towards the first alleyway she came across. Staying out in the open like a sitting duck was not her style and it would be easier to avoid any unwanted conflict the longer she stayed in the dark. It wasn't to say that she couldn't put up a decent fight, it was more to preserve her energy for when she would need it the most. She looked behind her, noting that a few of the other members were following her lead, possibly because they had the same idea as her in regards for their safety.

Niesha listened to the more then inadequate instruction on just how to land safely. It left a lot of room for doubt, in Nieshas mind. The wind was already whipping at her clothes, making her feel like she was going to leave the ground at any moment and be swept away by her shirt. She swallowed, and knelt, lowering her centre of gravity and making it harder for the wind to pick at her, tucking in her pants to her boots, and tighten her leather jerkin. She had no way of securing her bow other then to loop it through one arm.

Niesha was terrified of heights. Probably a weird thing to be terrified off in an aircraft, but it wasn't bad on the ship itself. Looking down, feeling the wind, that scared her. It made her feel weak and small, something she promised herself she would never be again. She shivered, and pretended it was from the cold of the wind buffering her. As the instructions were over, Niesha grimaced and rose. She couldn't refuse to go, nor could she linger, knowing that that would make it worse. As soon as she was clear enough to jump out, she did so, squeezing her eyes tight shut.

The wind rushed passed her, harder and faster then it had on the ship. Her hair billowed out, whacking painfully back against her skin like a whip. Her clothes snapped and flapped despite all she had done to prevent that, and Niesha, already small, felt miniscule. A sob racked up her chest and out her mouth, to travel soundlessly through the air. She fought with her sticks for a moment, panic setting in, her normal hand feeling clumsy, her fingers thick and slow, while her other hand fought for purchase.

Just when she thought she was going to just keep on falling, she managed to succeed in pulling them apart, focusing on the instructions, poor as they were, that they had been given. Twist it in the middle, disconnect, and make an X with your body seemed simply enough, but the wind tore at her, gravity and pressure making it hard to move. Her bow almost slipped away, and she was sure she lost at least one arrow to the winds pull.

"NO!" she shrieked when her bow started to slip, jolting and twisting slightly to keep it in position, forgetting for the moment the flight sticks, until it was secure again. As the sticks activated, and caught her, she couldn't help letting out another sob, using the remainder of her time in the air to compose herself, so that when they all landed, she was ready for whatever they would face. She hoped no one else had seen her struggle, or heard her screech.

As the plan seemed to be put in motion right away, Niesha stalked off with some others, but at first chance she went her own way. She had an arrow in hand, and her bow in her other hand, as she stalked onwards, the map in her mind. She would do her best, but she didn't know how she would be in a fight. Perhaps she shouldn't have broken off from the others. Niesha was more long range then hand to hand combat, more support then anything else. Still, she was quick and arrows were virtually impossible to hear unless you had really really really good hearing, unlike bullets which were loud messy things.

She hesitated, and then darted back the way she had come, and followed the path of someone else, soon seeing Cari. Niesha didn't know Cari's skills, but she knew if she herself stayed alone then she wouldn't survive long, and Niesha needed to survive, at least as long as it took to find out what had happened to her family, so she followed after Cari, silent and ready to attack

Less than an hour ago the lower decks had been a cacophony of chatter, yelling, screeching, banging, clanging, stomping, running, sparking and other such clamor. Additional ammunition, parts, coolant and supplies were moved into position. Engineers performed their final inspections and touch ups on armor and guns. The crew went over battle plans and targeting priorities. Now all that remained was the ever-present warm hum of the engines and the occasional mumbled exchange. In Carson's mind there was only silence. She stood at the fore of the battery with her eyes closed and breathing slowly.

Here was a large computer screen flanked by smaller clones topping a super computer which was used to aim the massive laser cannons on either side of them with deadly accuracy. Four of the behemoths, the same girth and two and a half times the length of a bus were each under the control of a small squad at their base and a gunner seated at a spot at the computer. Most of the main gun deck was devoted to them though the EMP mines could be dropped from this station as well. A gunner each was posted at the ship's dozen Vulcans and a team of three assigned to load and fire each of the three rocket pods.

There was little visible of the outside world on this dark and cramped deck save for the spaces in the various gun housings and on the large computerized display that now showed what lay ahead of them thanks to cameras on the outside of the ship.

A sudden static over her head set had her opening her eyes slightly and looking over the virtual cloud sea.

"Ground team is away," she was informed, "We are moving in to support."

"Rodger that," there was something of a feral and barely controlled growl in her voice. She cleared her throat in an attempt to be rid of it.

The engines revved up faster and louder now. The entire ship heaved forward with the acceleration. While others were rocked or stumbled she did not budge. She approached the four tactical gunners at the computer and stood directly behind them. Her eyes flicked back and forth across the screen and the information displayed. A smattering of tiny dots with tiny labels plummeting downward marked the ground team as they descended. It tracked them until the weak signal went out of range or was perhaps obstructed by the structures on Tirbetha. But where they had once been more signals replaced them. Unidentified electromagnetic, thermal and radio readings lit up the screen. No visuals yet. They were still too deep into the cloud cover. Even still an area the size of a city was rapidly being traced before them.

"All canons online. Gathering coordinates on possible targets," one of the tactical gunners, a small female, reported.

"Readying tracking decoys," another, a large male with a cybernetic lower jaw, followed suit.

Carson nodded and linked her headset to the other on-site gunners, "Cloud cover will be breaking momentarily. Wait for my command."

More silence sealed over the sudden flux of communication. Wind whipped past the gun housings and cameras and rushed into the deck creating a eerie breeze. Carson held her breath. In mere seconds the fog was cleaved apart as the Dusycion ripped her way into the open skies. Long ropes of vapor clung to her contours and billowed along the in the displaced air washing over her like ribbons. Steam billowed from the jets behind the ship dropping down on the city like a furious archangel.

"Laser priority targets are in range, Sir!" one of the gunners snapped.

"Lock the canons," Gerlach hissed.

A moment passed where she could feel every drop of blood scraping through her veins.

"Canons, locked! Rockets in range."

Gerlach opened her comm again, "All gunners at the ready."

"Vulcans in range..." the gunner paused, "Now."

"Open fire!" Gerlach commanded.

All four canons hummed with a charge and then roared out and were blown back on their bearings. The first brilliant fireballs were sent screaming downward. They smashed into walls, towers and barracks blasting holes right through the foundations and setting everything they touched alight. The drone of the machine guns joined them and brought a burning steel rain to ruin the day of anything and anyone unfortunate enough to be within their reach. The first of the rockets flew from their launchers and went twisting through the sky like dragons before finding marks on the ground as well.

In only a matter of seconds Tirbetha was thrown into chaos. Air raid sirens began to blare through the streets. Laser canons charged and fired again. Again. And again. They began to offset each other to a constant chorus of deep booms and explosions. Mortar and brick was thrown into the air. Glass shattered. Pirates, soldiers and civilians alike screamed and ran for cover and battle positions. They scrambled for their weapons and pointed toward the huge beast in the sky. They were now completely unaware of the invisible beasts that moved among them.

Gerlach clenched her fists tightly. A wicked smile that nobody could see spread across her lips.

Another, less beautiful sound interrupted her guns. The distant crack of the anti-air defenses. Flack exploded around the hull of the ship. They were coming in hot, but she trusted the navigators knew what they were doing. They had given them a marvelous first strike after all.

A wretched clatter rang against the steel outside like thunder. Shrapnel blasted off the walls and into the deck. Another blast rocked them and forced her to reset her footing. The ship was taking damage already. But a few scrapes and bruises wouldn't stop her. Though the Dusicyon may have a few punctures, Tirbetha was slowly lighting up like a disgusting, violent Christmas tree.

"Keep it together!" she ordered, "I want those blood sucking, ground kissing cretins bathed in the fires of Hell! We've only just lit the match."

Cari was dashing throughout the corridors like a shadow trying to escape the light, stopping occasionally so that she could get behind some cover and scout what lied further ahead. She could see Niesha behind her following in her footsteps, making sure that the fellow pirate didn't fumble in her steps. The two of them could see from behind the cover the AA gun. At about a hundred metres away it looked like an easy sprint, but with the soldiers operating around the perimeter Cari knew that going in through the front door was a bad option.

The sound of shells constantly being fired at the Dusicyon resonated throughout the alleyways and Cari turned towards her companion. She spoke as clearly as possible but the occasional words were muffled beyond recognition, requiring her to perform some rudimentary hand gestures to explain the plan.

"We'll enter in from higher up and use your bow to create a zip line over towards the AA. I can climb up that building and throw the rope down to you so you can make your way up," her yelling whispers were enough to see that Niesha would understand their plan, and Cari finished the brief with her fingers pointing towards a multi story building that they were close to.

Leaving her partner where she was, Cari crouch walked her way around the corner and towards a concrete and brick tower. She placed her fingers on the seems of the brickwork and used her enhanced grip to give her the strength that she needed in order to climb up such an impossible surface. With every reach she managed to gain that little bit of height until she ended up placing her fingers over the edge of the rooftop.

Cari peaked over the top of the edge to see a lone guard watching the AA building. A smart defensive move as any frontal assault would have been left with an ambush from above, but that all relied on the enemy not working out where the soldier was stationed. Carefully she reached back and pulled out one of her hand pistols and took aim at the head of the stranger, and began to count.

"One, two, three, four," *KATHUMP* "five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten," *KATHUMP*

She took note of the six seconds between shots and used this information to her advantage. Cari waited patiently and pulled the trigger, using the sound of the AA to muffle the sound of her own firearm.

Niesha was relieved when Cari didn't send her off somewhere else. She trotted up beside Cari when she stopped, studying the lay of the land around them, and looked to Cari as she began to speak, paying attention to her comrade, trying to catch all the words, but paying attention to the hand gestures as well. Niesha gave a nod to indicate she understood what Cari was trying to say to her. But creating a zip line? Niesha had never really done anything like that with her bow before. Still, there was always a first, and her aim was excellent.

Niesha watched as Cri climbed up the wall, glancing about and making sure there was no one going to attack them, especially with Cari in such a vulnerablel poition. Cari seemed to make the climb with ease, and Niesha let out soft breath of releif when Cari reached the top Niesha didn't think she could have done it.

Unable to just stand around anymore, and Assuming that Cari had dealt with any trouble, she took aim with her bow, a rope tied to it. She let it go, unable to see where it went, but she pulled on the rope and it seemed to be holding fast. Niesha took a deep breath, and began to scale the building, using the rope to keep herself upright, and climbing the wall as if she was just walking bent over. She made sure that her bow was secured over one shoulder, and that her arrows couldn't fall out.

She clasped the rope in both hands, feeling the differences in strength between her normal one, and her enhanced one, making a note of that so she could work on evening the strengths up. She breathed in, and out, before climbing.

She didn't look down. She knew if she did, she wouldn't be able to continue. Niesha distracted herself by counting her footsteps, and promising herself that just one more step, and she'd be there. It was a battle of wills within her, until she finally reached where Cari was, relieved. She breathed easier, and waited to see what would happen next

Cyrus kept tabs on Cari below him, hidden from all by his active camouflage. He sprinted over rooftops as Cari moved below him. When she came to her destination, he slid down the roof of a large residential building. Small spikes ejected from his heels and planted themselves into the roof, stopping his momentum and allowing him to settle against the roof. He set up shop and got comfortable. Looking through the scope, he watched as Cari took down soldiers at short range through the booms of the Anti-air cannon as it attacked the Dusicyon.

He snapped his scope around the battlefield, marking several targets on his HUD. There were many on the rooftops and on the ground, most of which carried heavy assault weaponry in addition to the heavy assault armor they wore. Each was a walking sentry that was there only to protect the only thing that kept the city safe from other pirate clans. Today, they would fail their one job.

Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes to focus for a moment before zeroing in on some poor unsuspecting fool's head, Cyrus fired when the AA cannon did, hiding both the sound of the powerful rifle going off and the explosion of the guard's skull as the explosive tipped bullet made short work of his helmet. He had but a few seconds to set up the next shot and just got it off as the cannon fired off its next volley. This time, the guard took the round in the chest and sprawled on the ground with most of his chest cavity splattered all over the place.

Cyrus shifted positions then to get a better angle on the next few guards, taking his time in eliminating them all. He was thorough and precise in the work he loved so much. The shot of dopamine he gets every time he kills some half baked pirate scum was half the reason why he took this job. He didn't enjoy killing innocents but these people were murderers and rapists and deserved every bullet. Every one that fell meant his business would get more profitable and business was devilishly good...even with how good at conducting business he was, he tended to make mistakes quite a bit when he's under pressure...like now.

He had enjoyed himself a bit too much and he downed a guard while the AA was reloading. The sound of the shot echoed throughout the yard and the last of the regiment there looked straight up to where he was and pointed their guns.

"Ah shit." he cursed as his boots unhooked and he slipped the rest of the way down to the edge and jumping off just as the bullets started to fly. As he landed, with a thud that is, the alarms started to sound and the rest of the area was alerted to his shenanigans, as well as the rest of the ground team. "Oh this is going splendid! Best assault ever! Good job Cyrus! You dun fucked up!" He sprinted for cover and let his rifle fall to his back via the magnet before reaching for his revolver. He stayed cloaked but now that they were looking for them it wouldn't be easy to hide.

Nikola was back in the engine room, not feeling any more assured about the engine; it was not that he didn't trust Renault's word, it was that he didn't trust himself to keep the engine running if they were of run out of parts, which was going to happen if for some reason black beard's ship was to not have the parts needed.

He rushed around on the catwalks, checking dials, and levels, and meters to ensure that everything was in order. As he approached the reactor pressure valve, he noticed that the pressure was low, the needle dancing on the boundary of the red zone. He looked around, scanning the room for where the leak may be and he spotted it, a geyser of steam bellowing out of a loose pipe connector. On his wrist he wore a boxy device, looking like a small intercom with a red button bellow the speaker, he pushed the button.

"Dorkface, bring a 40mm bolt screw to reactor valve 3." from his position, he saw Dorkface bounding over to a tool box and pull out a fixture that screwed on to the top of Nikola's power drill. She dumped it on top of her head like a hat and started to squirrel her way over to the before-mentioned pipe. Nikola did the same, he leapt over the railing that separated the catwalk from the floor below and grabbed hold of a suspended chain, with his momentum the chain rolled along a track fixed into the ceiling. Once above the leaking valve, he jumped hard on the hook he was standing on and the locking mechanism above disengaged, sending him quickly down to the ground.

Nikola retrieved the bolt screw from a patiently waiting Dorkface and gave her an affectionate stroke on the head, much to her pleasure. Fixing the attachment to the top of his drill, he pushed it onto the loose nut and pulled the trigger, sending the drill spinning.

In the background he heard a muted whistle and thought nothing of it, assuming it was the whine of another leaking pipe but the more he listened to it, the louder it became and it started to unnerve him.

The side of the room opposite him, on the other side of the reactor, exploded into a gaping hole in the side of the engine room. Air rushed past him as the room decompressed and he had to hold himself against the steam spraying pipe to avoid being sucked out; once the room decompressed, he noticed the red light flashing on and off. Climbing over pipes and machines, he made his way to the other side of the room and upon seeing the state of the machines, bit back a pained howl. That side of the engine was completely wrecked.

The operation was already about to begin when Greyson clomped his way to the bridge. He was sure that he wouldn't be so impossibly missed when it came to the navigation, as Grissom himself did most of the technical navigation in his piloting. Greyson was just there so that he was doing something, and coordinating a flight path was better with someone separate looking at the map and pointing out the hazards. But that was only going to matter once they broke through the cloud-cover and into the city.

The doors slid open and then slammed shut again as the navigator walked through into the heart of the flight deck. There was a small squad of four people manning and monitoring various instruments around the helm, including Grissom himself at the controls. It was a basic sort of cockpit layout for airships, which had the pilot encampment on a platform bisecting a semicircle of consoles, monitoring and controlling the weapons and other auxiliary systems. The navigator sat in a smaller encampment behind the pilot, with access to a small circular holo-desk with with which to draw and upload flight paths to the pilot's HUD.

Greyson hopped into the navigator's chair and smacked the table, booting it up. He pulled up the three-dimensional map of the city, taking note of the already-established points which marked the anti-air cannons. Grey proceeded to zoom in, looking to mark the supposed encampments of armed sky pirates. It seemed like the AA cannons triangulated in a certain four-pointed prism, where the city mansion formed the outlying point. Which meant, in order to get a significant vantage upon most of the encampments, the Dusicyon would have to fly right into the grid of AA guns.

"Alright," Grey briefly spoke up, "I'm sure you have a flight plan of your own in mind, but let me at least draw out a grid for you." His idea was to dip right into the fray and blitz the enemy before the AA guns could all load up upon them, and by the time they did, swoop up and away to loop around, keeping the guns at as far a range as they could distract them with. But Matty was the main mind behind the steering of the airship, so he was likely going to follow whatever plan the captain had laid out for him before.

The point was, in fact, for the Crimson Dusicyon to provide air support against the brunt of the ground forces while the drop crew cleared out key points, so Grissom was likely going to linger more while the gunners dumped fire on the whole city. Risky, but perhaps more effective for the mission overall, perhaps. In any case, they would have to be mutable about it, as there was no clear indication of which AA installations were going to be taken down first.

Grissom swooped the airship into the city with abrupt force, granting the gunner crew a powerful blitz opportunity. And took it they did, quickly unleashing a full payload on the city below and quickly loading and re-loading for further attacks. Laser cannons pelted down the streets while brilliant fireballs blasted apart the towers and forts. His face curling into one of disdain, Grey briefly spoke out, "If we're trying to capture this city, maybe we shouldn't blow up everything..."

Whatever further contributions Grey had, they were cut off by a sudden jolting to the side - a clear indication one of the guns had landed a solid shot on the Ducicyon. "Dammit, we're being nailed down here! Hit the throttle, put some range on the guns!" Grey called out to Matty, hoping his words weren't going to fall on deaf ears this time.

The crack of a rifle sounded off in the distance and alarms started sounding throughout the area. Cari's attention peaked as she looked over to a single alleyway and saw groups of enemy troops scatter towards the noise. Turning towards Niesha who was making her way over the edge of the wall, Cari grabbed her hand and pulled the rest of her body safely over and onto the rooftop.

"Shit," Cari swore under her breath knowing that their element of stealth was now jeopardised. She paced back and forth for a moment still swearing to herself and trying to think of another alternative way into the AA Cannon's control centre. A zip line was too dangerous now with troops running around on the ground. They would easily spot two invaders floating in mid air and that vulnerable state only meant that their chances of survival would be next to nil.

She made her way over to the rooftop surroundings and placed her hands on the steel trimming before surveying the scenery. The city showed off all it's might with neon lights, grand structures and an assorted array of architectural designs. She could see the rooftops rise and fall like a tidal wave, giving the impression that some of these towers were on the edge of a cliff face due to how the buildings next to them fell below the height of the towers that Cari could see. In amongst all this chaotic beauty was a handful of advertisement billboards, and it was this that caught her attention.

"The Rusty Pig?" She saw the name of what looked like some pub, and looked back towards the AA gun that was within their sights. She had an idea, but it all depended on this soldier that she killed a few moments earlier.

As quickly as she could, Cari rushed to where the corpse was laying and began to throw off the clothes that he wore, searching all his pockets and satchels for what she needed, "Come on you piece of shit." She found one item that she was looking for, a HE class grenade. Placing it aside she kept looking and eventually picked up his helmet to find an attached communicator. Placing the helmet on her head she heard the chatter of the soldiers attempting to find the culprit of the rogue gunshot.

"Niesha!" she called out, waving for her to come over closer to the body, "Tie this to an arrow and fire it over towards that building. Then call it in as if we are under attack over there." Cari was pointing to the pub that she scouted out before. If there was one place any local would protect, it would be their local watering hole.

"S**t.." Nikola mumbled to himself, peering out of the gaping hole in the side of the engine room, he turned to look at the engine and his heart sank further, "F**k." It was in a state, or at least that side was, a puddle of plasma was forming on the ceiling, ripples forming on its surface as blobs of plasma floated up from wrecked pipes. He did a quick analysis, he would need more pipe, that was simple enough but he'd also need a magnetic field oscillator, a plasma recycler, a coolant chipset and a bunch of other things he couldn't fabricate.

Looking through the hole again, he saw black flack clouds bursting around the ship. Nikola ran to the far end of the room and ascended ladder that lead to his 'room'; he scrambled up the final rung and went straight for his cabinet, he threw the metal doors wide open and instantly found what he was looking for. Tucked at the back of the cabinet was a polyester jumpsuit, he pulled out and threw off his clothes.

Dorkface watched as Nikola stripped down to his underwear, she was intrigued with the human anatomy, they were so hairless compared to her but they were so much bigger then her as well, she concluded that they couldn't be related as they were too different.

Nikola zipped up the suit and looked into the cabinet to see his armor glinting at him from inside, it pained him to leave it behind but the suit wouldn't work if he were to wear the brassy chest plate. He gingerly picked Dorkface up and slipped her into a small pocket at the front of the jumpsuit; he picked up his revolver from inside one of his desk drawers and threw the bandolier over his head, so it was draped across his chest.

Nikola proceeded to the massive hole in the side of the room and stood at the edge, his magnetic boots keeping him from being flung out by the speed of the ship. He dared a look down and regretted it, below him the city sprawled out in all directions, that wasn't what scared him though, ironically it was the height.

"Come on.." He mumbled to himself, "you can do it." He looked over the edge one more time and swollowed hard. Nikola had never tested the suit out but as he leapt off the edge of the ship, his boots disengaging and letting him fall, it suddenly came to him that it just might not work, the stitching could fail or the chute might have been packed badly, anything could happen. He extended his arms out and parted his legs, and suddenly his whole body jerked as air was caught in the wings. He sailed closer and closer to the ground, his speed reduced significantly but he was still far off safe landing speeds.

Then his heart sank into his stomach, he heard a tear. The back end of the suit's left wing was flailing around, the stitching having failed to keep it in place. Much to his horror, the tear was creeping up the suit and holding his trajectory was getting harder as the rushing air made him want to role; his heart was thumping but he couldn't hear it over his terrified screams.

Nikola decided to try his luck, he pulled hard on the tab that released the chute, relieved to see the arched shape fold open instead of come out a tangled mess. A bullet whizzed by his head as he neared street level, then another came dangerously close to hitting his leg. The third bullet to be shot at him however did hit something; it clipped the bracket holding the steering lines to the upper chute and his smooth descent quickly devolved into a gag inducing spiral. As he neared the street, he spotted a colorful hoodie and recognized who it was.

"CARI LOOK OUT!" If she didn't move, he'd slam right into her.

Niesha was relieved to have the help to get over the edge and on the roof, afraid she didn't have the strength to pull herself up. Normally, she was fine climbing, but Niesha hadn't liked heights. She was okay climbing small heights. This wasn't a small height though. Niesha offered Cari a smile, but let it disappear as she took in their prospects.

It was clear that they now had no stealth. Niesha wasn't deterred about that. She had been hiding what she was doing from people since she had been taken into slavery. She knew how to sneak in full view. Niesha watched Cari, unsure of what to say so she just stayed silent. Niesha pondered a few things, watching Cari walk off, examining the area. Niesha did the same, pursing her lips.

For now, Niesha would just follow Cari's lead, and indeed went over when Cari called. Niesha studied the body, frowning slightly as Cari told her to fire the grenade. She bit her lip thoughtfully, and nodded, taking it, using a small piece of rope to tie to to an arrow. She pulled back on her bow, and let the arrow fire. She didn't even think that the grenade would go off, just did her job. The arrow landed and embedded in the pub wall.

She did the rest, calling it in, and watching to see what would happen. She turned aside after a moment, looking about them, trying to think what they could do if this didn't work out. "You know. We could still do the zip line. People generally don't look up. if this doesn't work, we may as well try it. They know we are here, so...why not give them a show?" She said, looking back to Cari to see what else was meant to go on.