Kaitiaki Homestead, Raven HQ

1900 Hours



The landscape was an alive and green one across D'Urville Island, with thick semi-temperate rainforest-like bush then giving way to open, almost radioactively-like green hills, the kind that almost always seemed to glow with light in the sun, due to the abundantly volcanic soil. The untouched landscape with sheep grazing on the hills and the sea shimmering brilliantly in the distance was a sight to behold. This was a place that was special, with only a few temporary accommodations on the island by virtue of it's protected and remote status. Getting to New Zealand took hours by flight, a detour via Wellington, a boat ride in across the choppy Cook Strait, followed by a 4x4 or ATV ride to get anywhere, if the roads were there; if not, by foot.

Well, it was mostly empty...except for one modern homestead and complex at the top of one of the many hills of the far north of island, built with wall-sized glass windows and a panoramic view that would have looked about right belonging to a very wealthy landowner perhaps, but Kaitiaki wasn't that.

Kaitiaki translates to "Guardian" from Maori, a word that could have described Raven itself about right. Protectors, conservers, perhaps of a different kind, but no less, people who would fight and come to action, and another base that they called home.

The homestead itself was built into the side of a hill overlooking the Cook Strait, and encompassed something significantly bigger than what first thoughts appears visible on the surface. A V22 Osprey sat in a wooded alcove not far along the ridgeline, concealed by a small forest, and was linked with a small gravel track to the base itself, the pumic-like track cut freshly into the land that had seen only a hardy few homesteaders try their luck on a windswept island off the coast of the South Island.

On the surface, the top floor contained Skye's office and quarters, with the rest of the team having theirs on the same level too. Beneath that, a rec room, kitchen and breakout area, with a briefing area adjacent to it also filled out the area, having a view over the sea and rolling hills from the mainland and other islands. So far, so corporate. But beneath that, through inner concrete walls were painted a striking white and yellow and a concrete staircase lay a vehicle pool with a hidden door, containing a number of light strike vehicles, and adjacent to that, a large armoury, containing the team's gear, suits, equipment, a firing range and a tooling shed. Beneath that, the gym, both for the regulars and a specialist one that the heavies used, as well as a lab for both Asim and Freya existed, the two brilliant minds of the team having their outlet there. Lastly, linked to the V22 track was an additional facility, containing a small support base, with a signals team and logistics support, who only half knew the role of Raven- officially, the line was the house belonged to a PMC.

Supplies were shipped in once a month, there was satellite signal, and from above, this place just looked like any other house owned by a reclusive billionaire of some kind, even the V22 might be a bit of a stretch of budget. And if really needed, a short dirt runway was the next cove over, able to take a light cargo aircraft on demand. The only thing they lacked was a hot tub, but no worry there, Skye had one on order. It didn't make her operators soft when she knew on any moment she could put them through hell....and while she didn't per se enjoy it, she knew it was good to balance both nicely.

--------

In mid run on the ridgeline adjacent to the base, Skye enjoyed the view even if they were here in spite of Corsica being nearly compromised from work prior, and now, Raven was pulling itself up here. They rotated regularly to make sure their trace wasn't always found, after all, they couldn't be compromised with the type of work they did. They came close, but got out before Artemis went looking for their man. They'd prevented a data leak, and the person they'd managed to capture on their last mission was a senior leader of Artemis Group, a lethal paramilitary with plans of anarchy through compromising the world's intelligence agencies and governments indiscriminately. They had far more sinister plans from what Skye could only guess than making money and creating high-tech terror, because she knew they weren't just ragdoll terrorists- they used modern firearms, armour and fuck, even had a mech on that last job. So that man had certainly brought the heat on them. Every time she thought she had their measure, she'd always have to adjust that to know what they were up against. Not a cakewalk, and one the intelligence agencies were only whispering about right now. If they knew the details, they'd shit themselves. That was Artemis's point, and Raven's counter.

Wearing a navy blue shirt with an indie band's logo on it and khaki trousers, Skye looked every bit of the Scot she was, her scarlet red hair tied in a ponytail, cut aggressively on her side and bearing her marks from operations past, coupled to her tattoos and fierce demeanour. As pretty as she may have been, she was a woman of her description, a storied, talented operative who commanded a team that many wouldn't have expected her to have. Yet they got the job done. The trail winded and was barely cut from old homesteaders past, the evening sun slowly setting and visceral in colour, a sight that was equal parts breath-taking and incredible. She had to admit, Corsica was good, but this was better. Even if it involved a 24 hour flight to Wellington and a hell of a lot of adjustment.

With a pace, she kept going, her watch displaying the 20km she'd already run. A lap of the island. Every other day she got to go on this run, and every other day it kept going, hills, troughs, ridges, beaches, and all. The noise of tui and songbirds punctuating the run, the island truly unlike anywhere else many of the operatives came from- New Zealand felt like an alien world, familiar with rolling green hills and almost like Scotland yet so unlike it a way that was intangible. So the run was a chance to take stock. Reflect. Think and keep things in mind. She had plenty of air in her lungs, the repeat exposure and time after time of doing this making it easy, yet the catharsis, the high never left. It was pure as it could be, and made her see as straight as she felt she'd ever had. A purpose, a destination, and yet the journey worth having. She had to admit, it was primal, yet so right. Skye was always one to be social, but sometimes time to think helped beyond that work, and right now, she had some idea of what was coming. What to brief, what to train, and set up.

They'd be back in the field again, Skye knew. And this time, they were taking the fight to the bastards. No more reactive fighting. This time, they were on assault. The team were getting briefed tonight, and the new rotation were going out with her to take on Artemis again, and this time, try and cast a little more light on what the fuck they were up to. Skye knew it was nothing good, and if the arms deal had been correctly set up, they'd be there right in time to create some mayhem. Find out what was being bought, most of all. Now that, that could be something interesting.

Making her way back in, Skye passed the site gate, the security minimal for a facility like this- purely due to the remoteness, and partly due to requiring a couple of biometric scans that would be hard to spoof, built on a hard-wired, internal network. She had to admit, while the team may have changed, they were no part less capable, as she walked through the "ground floor" of the homestead, heading up to the rec room.

With a subtle grab of a drawer and a clink of a glass, she was pouring out a glass of '61 Speyside whiskey, a nice dram and a gentle warmth on a cool Kiwi evening. A bit of calm before the storm as she popped onto a sofa by the window in the airy rec room, enjoying the view. The rest of the team would no doubt trickle in, either already on site, arriving, or out enjoying the island.

Now this was the life. No paperwork yet, and just a nice fuzzy drink....till the team made some of the former, she thought to herself!

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

OP PARTYCRASHER

0600 Hours



The desolate, arid desert of the Aral Sea was a lonely place, scattered only with rusted and abandoned ships beyond the town limits of Aralsk, a Soviet city that had been mostly abandoned, and totally silent aside from sand rustling in the early dawn. The Aral Sea had almost dried up completely more than 20 years ago, and what was left was a fertilizer and poison-contaminated dusty ex-seabed come desert of sand, rock and shingle. The literal opposite to Kaitiaki, in almost every single way. An antipode of environment, a dead land with nothing but old islands that now made hills, rusted out shells of cargo ships and fishing boats, and the occasional camel.

OST: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJMdZrOOef0

Lonely Boy- The Black Keys

Yet the swirling noise of sand being blown across earth was interrupted by the rumble of the modified DPVs rattling through the dawn, the team spread between the two vehicles, racing through the dunes, Skye sitting in the driver's seat of one as she looked out, her own tunes playing quietly through her own headset, an absolute classic. The Desert Patrol Vehicles, updated naturally for this sort of terrain had chunkier tyres, three seats, and a supercharged engine in the back for extra welly. Unarmed to save weight, but then again, they were all carrying enough firepower- and had been delivered in the dead of night through a local courier.

Skye with her exo seemed more warrior like than the woman some would see, almost androgynous given her height and game face on now. Fatigues, MG3, Gustav MAAWS, oh, and extra ammo for both. The Osiris Exoskeleton unit, a light carbon-composite and aluminium framed second-generation combat carrying exo and a singular jump-pack did the job for her, providing a fairly typical load-bearing vest, ballistic protection, the multi-purpose MTP fatigues contrasted by navy/green tartan pattern on the exoskeleton's actual frame itself, topped off with a blue neck warmer. An updated Ops-Core looking-like helmet followed suit, as did a navy blue baseball cap that tucked under facing backwards, with a holographic display up on her tactical glasses being joined with a quad-optic multi-spectrum night vision device. Skye's setup was more than sometimes a regular medium would have, it made her fast, nimble, heavy hitting and quick. Perhaps not as hacker focussed, but she could more or less run like a greyhound and chase the team, like a real team mum would. The buzzsaw loaded, Skye felt the cells power on and the weight get pulled back, the LMG going from a bag of bricks to feeling like an MP5 in her hands, and like she felt like an invisible cable was pulling her up and along. It never got old, and while Skye Rosalind Lyons may have been a cute-looking redhead, right now, she looked like the mid-21st century's equivalent of a Highlander about to go scalp some English fuckers, a resolute, burning figure on her face.

Looking across, she saw the other vehicle, a few other team members in that DPV, the heavy taking the lion's share with the rear gunner's seat, the two vehicles capable of carrying the combined tonnage of the team, fuel and other supplies.

"We're nearly at our stop point, team. Pull up on the GPS co-ordinate, should be right by that hill over there. We'll take a look at the situation and get ready for this. Remember, we're here to find out what's going on, stop an arms deal, and then crash the party. Let's not rain down the fireworks straight away."
Skye broke the silence, the Scottish tones sultry and crisp, a husky tone that felt it was comfortable barking as loud as it could yet finding the soothing, gentle percussiveness of warmth and trust, her usual dichotomy of being.

Then again, being in charge of a sometimes ragtag team had that happen, so here she was, covering bases.

Pulling up, the DPV skidded to a halt as she clambered out, and with a wry grin, took stock of the situation.
"Right. Last chance to grab gear, take stock, and get ready." The team leader added, cocking her own MG3, the light machine gun ready and capable on demand as she put hand to comms, calling her handler out.

"Oracle, we're at Observation Point Alpha, in position. What's the status of our support?" She asked, firm yet directly, looking to the others disembarking, keeping an eye on the dark desert around her.
"A-ferrmative, we've got you on visuals. Drone is twenty minutes out, you know how to call for it if you need it on station." The handler's voice was smooth through her comm-set, as he awaited reply.
"Copy that, Oracle. Don't let it get closer, keep it loitering away, we can't let them know what we're up to yet. I know what it's carrying too, once that hits on call in, by Christ, that'll make a mark. Queen out." With that, Skye looked across to the team, the setup clear as to what they were doing, and aware they'd be probably wondering that element of it.

"I asked for a big firework today, but let's save it till we need it. I need a couple of you on recon up on the ridge, ASAP. Tell me what you see at the rusted out ship, rough numbers, anti tank, anti aircraft, give me a picture of what we're up against. I expect trouble, but we've dealt with these wankers before, and left them high and dry."

Samantha sighed as she began packing her bags. She had come home from her mission. She spent some time with Kameko. When she had downtime between missions, she had time to think. When she slowed down, she couldn’t help chewing over how he died. She continued to search for clues and evidence for everyone responsible. She was collecting the data. She felt confident that when she was ready that she could take the information to Queen. She had struggled at first to get used to working with a team. Her missions with the CIA had always been solo without much support. She had learned to trust the team and lean on them during training. She knew there was more than one team and had met many of them in passing.

She was still working to process the death of her father. To be healthy enough to pass the entrance test, she had begun seeing a therapist. She hated to admit that she was long overdue for therapy. She couldn’t argue that she was doing better. She found it soothing to spend time with Kameko. She felt like the last link to her past and the last person who really truly knows her. She worried a little about Kameko. She was doing fine physically. She had taken over the dojo on her own and was teaching more now. She seemed so lonely. They seemed to fill that need for each other. She worried how she was coping when she was away.

She sighed as she zipped her suitcase. Thank goodness she got to leave her gear at the base. She giggled thinking about what it would be like to get some of it through security. She grinned at least traveling commercial was easier for her. LAX while a clusterfuck and always busy had flights to almost everywhere. It was a good airport to fly out of as long as you took the hour long drive in traffic into consideration. She had already packed her personal laptop gear. Kameko had already left for the dojo. They had said goodbye over breakfast. Her uber should be here any minute. She hated leaving her babies in Kameko’s garage but they would be safe here while she went off to save the world. Her babies being her custom racing motorcycle and her Shelby Cobra. She had restored the Cobra with her father. She was very attached to both of her vehicles. They meant even more to her now. She grabbed her bags and headed for the airport. She had to do the undercover shuffle before finally arriving at her destination. She made sure she had her real passport and id secured in the special hidden pocket inside her computer bag before pulling out the alias she was traveling under.

She hated flying commercial. It was so much more convenient to fly herself to her destination. If only she could afford her own airplane. She made decent money but not that good. Plus flight plans and all that. It would be even harder to conceal that flying under an alias. Once she was on the plane she happily leaned her chair back to avoid talking to the passengers around her. She pretended to sleep. It was amazing what people would say around you when they thought you were asleep. She amused herself with the commonplace drama for the rest of the flight. After the plane landed, she stood to gather her luggage. She had to catch a connecting flight. She turned to the woman sitting next to the window. She smiled and told her “You should dump him honey. He doesn’t deserve you. Why would you want to fight for a man who didn’t respect you in the first place. The problem isn’t the ho he hooked up with. The problem is with him. If you had a clear understanding that you were both in a committed monogamous relationship, dump him. He ain’t worth the trouble.” She saw her face go red with embarrassment and she began to splutter as Sam grabbed her bag and moved down the aisle to catch her next flight.

It felt like a day later and Sam was tired as the plane finally touched down in Wellington. She produced her third alias ID for this trip as she deplaned. She was tired and grumpy. Normally she loved to fly but that is if she was sitting in the cockpit. She felt like she was being released from prison being forced to sit in economy in the rear of the plane. It felt good to be up and moving through the airport. She swung by baggage claim and picked up her bags. She made her way to the departure area. There was a driver waiting holding a sign with her name on it. She approached him and simply nodded. He just nodded in return and led the way out of the airport. She could tell by the way he moved that he was an operative. She didn’t recognize him though and assumed that he was just a cog in the logistics chain to get all the operators back on base for the next assignment. He helped her get her bags into the back of the SUV. She didn’t make a fuss or a scene about it. She could lift her own bags and didn’t need to be coddled but she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. She knew he was driving to meet the boat that will take her out to the island. She was right he departed after dropping her off at a secure dock. She made her way to the indicated sleuth and hailed the boat.

After a long but uneventful trip over to the island, Sam was tired but she smiled. She loved this part of getting to base. She secured her bags to the back of the 4-wheel ATV. She slipped her sunglasses over her eyes before letting out a loud whoop. She threw her leg over and mounted the ATV. She took off in a peal of spinning tires and dirt flying. She put the ATV through its paces as she followed the trail to the base. The ride into base restored her joyous disposition. The rumble of a high-performance engine and the wind from her passing blowing her hair back would never get old. She came roaring into base. She almost forgot to stop at the checkpoints to put her info into the system. She grinned as she pondered that it was a security issue she should probably mention to the boss. Maybe she would try to set off the alarm on purpose the next time she came back to base. She didn’t know her new boss well enough to know how she would take a prank like that yet. She pulled the ATV into the garage and climbed off. She unloaded her bags and headed into base. She looked down at her now well worn travel clothes. She needed a shower. Her combat boots and jeans were splattered with mud. Her vintage Motley Crue tshirt was wrinkled and had a small ketchup stain on it. Her hair looked a little wilted but still fabulous. It was one of the reasons she kept it styled so short. As she passed into the base proper she called out in a cheerful voice. “Hi Honey, I’m home! What's for dinner? I am starving!” She snickered as settled her bags at her feet and took a look around to see what was happening and who was here.

In the auburn setting sun the elegant scot running round the small island like an ant. His helicopter was fast approaching the quaint landing pad. He put his monocular away with a snap as the blades began to slow down. He snatched up his sleek leather duffel up as he leaned out wishing his pilot, Romeo, a farewell.

He stepped out, his figure of bravado framed well by the fast setting sun over the Tasman sea. His tailoured suit had not faired well from the long travel he had endured to show up. But oh well, with any luck he would be showered and refreshed for tonight's brief. At least that's why he presumed they'd been rallied at this humble little HQ.

He let himself in, finding his own lavish quarters. He considered finding his stash and settling down in his office for a read. However more pressingly, he desperately wanted a shower. After redressing himself in his night clothes. (A set of striped pajamas, red silk bathrobe, and slippers. Of course.) He snatched up a small teak box and wandered on up to the rec room.

He was somewhat caught off guard by it's sole resident as he wandered in, eyes cast downwards to the ivory pipe propped between himself. He let out a frustrated grunt as yet another match smouldered against whatever flowery scented substance he had loaded in the pipe. He glanced upward briefly in search of the drinks cabinet and was rewarded with an eyeful of his old oppo.

Skye Lyons. An apt name for the fearsome woman. He sleepily found himself beside the woman, flashing her one of his infamous smiles. Somewhere in-between a wry knowing grin, and a slightly presumptuous smirk. It was the marmite of facial expressions. It relaxed some and merely angered others. He was curious to rediscover how the fine woman reacted to it. "Hmm, fancy seeing you here." He gave her a sly wink as he reached for a tumbler and poured himself an ample glass of the rich golden amber nectar. Sipping on it slightly with a contented look at he settled into one of the lavish armchairs around the room. Finally he finished off his settling in with, his voice slightly more noticeably northern than normal, a single straight to the point question: "So, who's fucked us off now, love?"

---

Stafford had scored himself shotgun in the primary DPV. Standing with his head above the windshield, he peered out across the desert through his monocle. As the early morning sun crested the wave of sand that stretched out in front of them. The DPV's radio blared out under his racing heart. It had been more than two decades, and it would be at least another two decades before that rush died down before an op. He sat back down into the passenger seat, unclamping the lower half of his face mask.

The mask's mandibles split open to reveal the clipped beard of it's occupant. It brought to mind images of a horrific metallic bug consuming a man. Those images were soon scratched to the dust below their tires as he brought out an unusually pungent 'cigar'. Flowery, dry, and earthy scents could be detected on traces of wind as the DPV sped out from under the wind around them. Iller brought his hand up to a match he had carefully lit, protecting it from the wind as he lit the skunky, piney blunt.

The DPV's slammed into it's resting place, Stafford jumping out as the rest of the squad disembarked. He flicked away the roach and closed his mask. The last peek that could be garnered of his face was a slight scowl as the scarab's mandibles engulfed his face. He drew his hood up over it as he gazed over to the ridge in mention. It was about two miles to travel, by his reckoning. Probably about 50 meters high. He nodded to Queen and gave her a short 'roger' before beginning his journey.

For the sake of his legs he started off jogging, then slowly eased up the power of his exo-skeleton to help carry him the rest of the distance. He'd made it up in about two minutes, and while the rest of the squad were busying themselves, he set himself up.

First he appraised his surroundings, it was a desolate scene. A few shrubs, a singles small twisted tree about 10 feet away. Mostly just sand, and a few rocks. He drew the rifle from his back, holding it with both hands as he lay himself on the sand, resting the barrel in-between two seemingly dead shrub that had grown right next to each other, he positioned the monstrous towards the rusted out hulk. Checking the safety catch instinctually as he brought he did his finally preparations. He drew his left Token and set it in the sand under his cloak, by his left arm. Finally he brought his armoured cheek up to the bespoke cheek guard. His face welded perfectly to the stock as his good eye stared into the inky blackness of the unpowered digitised scope. He flicked it on and a blue flash filled his vision.

His first thoughts as he began surveying were that, as the sun had just barely risen, the sand on his stomach was cold. Even through his light armour it was noticeable. He squirmed as his focus turned to the skeletal remains of what was once a ship. He stared through, accounting anything noticeable. After that he switched the scope to thermal mode to account for any heat signatures hidden by the oxidising superstructure. Vehicles, people, gear, anything about. Once he had finished the survey he thumbed the wireless radio transceiver built just above the mag release switch and passed on his survey.

"Data coming through now madam." A voice said. The flaming red haired woman sits and observes the feed "Generators 3, 6 and 7 running hot and were not at optimal charge. Going to need to watch that."

Another voice chimed in, "20% and rising. Coils are super cooling, so far so good. Approaching base line."

The head of fiery red hair bobs staring at the screen through a pair of slowly polarizing pieces of glass, "Generator 8 just dropped 30% output...compensating. And there we go generator 10 online."

Another voice pipes up, " Madam evidence of a surge cascade building." The woman narrowed her eyes as the screen I front of her began to glow with the picture of an experiment on it. She sighed, "Continue we need to try and reach base line. Activate second and third energy sumps, we need everything we can get."

A harsh buzz and whine began, "Charge at 40 percent madam that surge cascade is getting worse." The woman sitting in a corner of the recruit room, on a large chair staring at a laptop screen snarls, "keep going, not far now." The buzz filtered away but the whine got worse. One of the others on the call shouted, "Foxfire, we have foxfire effect on the coils!" "45%! Base line reached, do we continue?" The red head grins, "Not yet...eye protection on now!" the thing on the screen glowed now like a mini sun, "54% madam we need to discharge that cascade is about to break!"

The red haired woman hit the space bar on her lap rip with a finger and the screen blazed as the hidden experimentation lab somewhere on the island darkened as if on a dark night, until the screen nearly whites out. The woman turning her head away. The sound of an almighty din coming from the lap top speakers.

After abit Freya turns to looks back at the screen, sparking and crackling in the wake of the discharge from a truly large coil gun in some distant lab, "Well ladies and gentlemen, it fired, but by the looks of it the firing..." She trails off as another shouts on the call, "Confirmation, round traveled at Mach 4.1 82 kilometers until it struck the impact island. Another crater to add. Check teams mobilizing to see if there is anything left to bring home and examine." One of the voices quips "Well...it fired right this time." And this set everyone on the call to laughing. The whole time Freya Kanatariio is grinning, "My dad was right. Cooling the coils individually helped...he's going to be insufferable when he finds out." And the laughter pick back up.



Bump...rock...crunch...

"Who ever is driving is worse then my sister! Miss a rock two!" Frigga shouted reaching back to adjust the hammer on her back again.

Kazakhstan...didn't think she'd be back here so soon not since that job with her siblings...and that APC it had thrown off the count. Frigga gave a hum and smiled as the DPV pulled over. A relieved sigh out she gets stretching, the Gallarhorn armor popping abit as servos clicks, fiber bundles react and pistons rest. She limber her AEW looking around, "Another hill a new adventure." A motion and the shield emitters whine up, reactive armor plates sliding into position. Her hammer shifting as the winch system attached to it initializes. The plasma caster on her shoulder syncing to her head motion, "What shall we burn today?" She asks allowed as the suit begins to gather material for the Stars Core plasma caster. "Frigga ready." She calls as her helmet seals with two angled plates her HUD coming online within.

Sam was in her element as she reveled in her role on the team. She put the Desert Patrol Vehicle (DPV) through its paces as she kept up with the lead vehicle in which Queen rode. She arced the heavy vehicle gracefully around another rusted ship corpse sitting on the desert floor. She was grateful for her tactical suit which had environmental controls to help keep her cool or warm within certain parameters. Her suit was designed for high altitude flying or ground combat. Her helmet was closed to protect her face from the flying sand. Her eyes used the HUD to help navigate. The tinted face shield helping protect her vision from the rising sun.

Her HUD connected with cameras on the DPV’s and those built into her suit as they scanned for movement. She used eye movements and blinking to access menus in the HUD. A movement alert popped up in her HUD. “We have movement in Charlie quadrant.” She paused as she activated the magnification. “False alarm. Appears to be a rogue camel. No other movement detected.” She called out what she saw in a calm clear voice even as the DPV went down over another scaggy covered hill. She heard Frigga call out: "Who ever is driving is worse then my sister! Miss a rock two!"

She laughed as she replied with a grin “Where would the fun be in that! There is nothing here but rocks. I can’t miss them all. But for you, I will do my best.” Sam smirked as she began weaving around to miss as many rocks as possible before pulling up a few feet from Queen’s vehicle. The DPV rocked on its suspension as it stopped. “Thank you for booking with Chaos Rides.” Samantha snickered as she climbed out and grabbed her tactical backpack with her electronic gear. She was already wearing her pistol on her hip in its holster. Her throwing knives were in the bandolier strapped across her abdomen. The twin fighting knives were already strapped into their sheaths along her forearms. Her combat knife road in her boot. The only thing left to grab was her long gun and rifle. She clipped her automatic rifle into the tactical sling built into her suit. She slipped her customized long gun’s straps across her shoulders.

She tightened the straps and clicked the buckle in place across her chest so it wouldn’t move around as much or make much noise. She had made sure her canteen was in the pack and filled with water before she left. She began to walk stretching and limbering up her muscles before kicking up into a faster ground eating jog. She reached the ridge quickly. She analyzed the cliff face as she had an easy climb up the ridge marked out in her HUD. She began climbing up the ridge. Her foot only slipped once as the soil under her foot crumbled a little. She made it to the top without further incident. She looked around noting any immediate threats.

She crouched low and used the zoom feature to see what lay ahead. She sat down along the cliff edge. She pulled the long gun off her shoulder and laid it next to her right hand. She pulled her backpack off and pulled out her laptop. She reached into the bag and pulled out a drone the size of a tennis ball. She laid down on the cliff’s edge. Pushing her rifle up onto her back on its sling. She opened her laptop and booted it up. She smiled as she confirmed connection to the secure encrypted satellite they used for communication in the field. She set the drone on the dirt in front of the laptop. She turned it on and sent up into the air. She spoke into the mic built into her helmet. “Chaos is in position and running hot.” That was code for drone in the air. She piloted the drone towards the rusted ship. She didn’t want to send it too high. Worried someone might spot it and shoot it down. She skimmed above the desert floor where it would be less noticeable. She was aiming to send the drone around the end of the hulk. She turned her attention to what was coming up on the drone feed. She was hoping she got good intel before she had to bring the drone back because it was out of range.

New Zealand, was a place that Mateo would not think he would go to. Much less live there, but that is where Raven is based, and he is not complaining as he started to unpack his belongings in his room. He just wished it was not so much of a pain to get to. At least the sights of this island were nice to see coming in and much better than his old posting. Plus, more to see as he explored the island and find a good route to jog. But he has plenty of time for that before his next mission, hopefully. If not, there is always time during R&R.

After he was done unpacking and satisfied with himself, Mateo, with a smile, left his room and suddenly remembered something. Something that he needed to check, technically not important to any mission or the team. But, something he had to check out, and so he headed to the rec room.

Just in time to see two of his teammates talking to each other. One of them being his new boss, Skye Lyons. While Mateo would have tried to talk to her right now, he did not wish to interrupt her conversation and headed back to his main objective. The bar and quickly went about taking stock of what it has. A satisfying "Yes" came from a relieved Mateo. They have the alcohol I like and can mix with, he thought. Yes, alcohol is not a big concern normally to a spec ops operative, but if he is going to live here, then at least he can have some fun by making cocktails.

Now that was settled, Mateo decided to relax for a bit while he was in the rec room. He is already here, and the sun is setting, so why not. So he grabbed some whiskey and poured himself a drink. Then he found a recliner with an end table next to it and laid down. It was a long trip here, he thought, and it was about time he could relax a bit before his next mission. So there he lay there, comfortable and siping his whiskey, waiting for night to come and for the eventual debrief.



Mateo was busy in the main DPV getting ready, not saying a word, unlike other missions where he would go in close. This mission, given there were others like him and it was in a big dry desert with not that many places to hide other than the abandoned, rusted boats. So sniping enemies from away seemed like the go-to plan for him. Still, he did carry one of his submachine guns just in case he needed to get close.

Then checking to make sure that his suit was working correctly since, again, little cover and his cloaking is going to be a must here if Queen deems that he needed to get in close. As he was done, Mateo took a look around, and it was almost hard to believe that this used to be a sea full of water and fish. The only clues are the rusted and abandoned, rusted boats to give some idea of what this area used to be like. A shame, really but nothing he can do about it but just focus on the mission.

So once the DPV had stopped and the squad got out. Mateo simply replied with an "understood" and went to the hill. Which did take him a bit, and he could only feel jealous as he watched Stafford fast jog and reach the hill first because of the speed of his exo-suit. While Mateo's suit had its advantages, it did not grant speed, unlike Stafford's suit. So it took him a bit to catch up.

But, once he had reached the hill, Mateo went prone, activated his suit's cloaking and brought out his binoculars, and turned on the night vision setting. Getting a sense of the scene, and it was one you would find in a desert. Sand, a few shrubs, dead trees. Then he focused on the ship or what was left of it. Mateo heard of Stafford's report and simply scanned the scene for anything he might have missed. Anything else of value and switched to thermal to see if he could see anything else hidden by the ship's frame. If he did find anything else, he did report back to Queen and put his binoculars away, and brought out his sniper rifle. Readying himself for orders and for this mission to really start.

---

A certain aussie hovered over the rec room’s mini fridge. Tools and spare parts scattered around him as he was hard at work tinkering with something. He was so focused on what he was doing that he didn’t even notice Mateo enter the room. It wasn’t until Mateo had sat down that he realized someone else was even there.

“How’s it going, mate? Don’t mind me. I’m just making a few… ‘adjustments’ to the fridge here.” Xander gave the fridge a soft pat as he explained.

“Actually, would you mind helping me test it? I want to make sure the voice commands work for everyone.” Xander said cheerfully. He pushed himself off the floor and walked to the otherside of the rec room. “See, people come here to try and relax. Maybe kick back and forget their troubles.” He plopped down into the nearest chair, still maintaining eye contact with the man. “Only sometimes, that’s not all you’ve forgotten. See, I didn’t grab a beer before I sat down. Now I’m gonna have to get up and walk all the way back to get one, then walk all the way here again. Doesn’t sound like I’m relaxing, now does it? But don’t worry, I solved that problem.”

Xander held out his hand and called out,“Fridge! Beer me!”

Hearing the voice command, the top of the fridge opened to reveal a hidden mechanism that looked strikingly similar to Xander’s lobber. The device rotated for a moment before it detected Xander’s open hand. A can of beer was then automatically loaded into the device and with a soft *thump* was launched across the room and into the aussie’s grip. The device then folded back into the fridge and the top closed concealing it once more. Proud of himself, Xander cracked the can open and took a very satisfied gulp of beer.

“Don’t worry. I cleared this with mum. Well, more accurately I sent her a message, but she was already on her scheduled run. Either way I’m sure she’ll be fine with it. If not, I can always put it back how it was.” Xander gave a soft chuckle before leaning back and taking another swig.

---

Despite calling driver before they left, Xander was relegated to shotgun as Chaos beat him to their assigned DPV. On top of that there wasn’t any way for him to remotely take control of the vehicle, which meant he was pretty much forced to let her take the wheel. He was upset at first, but he couldn’t complain too much. After all, she at least knew what she was doing. Oh well. He would just have to make sure it was his turn next time.

While it was a bumpy ride there, it was far from boring. There was some entertaining banter between Frigga and Chaos that Xander brought a smile to his face. It was nice to know he wasn’t the only person on the team who could joke around. Last thing he wanted was to be surrounded by stuffed shirts who never learned to have a good time.

Once they had reached their destination and came to a sudden stop, Chaos made the remark “Thank you for booking with Chaos Rides”.

Xander chuckled at the comment. He calmly pulled out his tablet and dictated aloud as he pretended to type a review. “Driver was lovely and got us to our destination on time, but there was a distinct lack of on board snacks and drinks and too many camels. 3 out of 5.”

Finished with his bit, he slipped the tablet back onto his arm and hopped out. He grabbed his gear from the back and did one final check. Weapons: F88 Austeyr and Glock 19 locked and loaded. Exo-suit: fully functional and powered. Dingo: secured and ready to bite. Everything seemed in order, all he had to do now was wait for the recon team to give them the all clear and Queen to give the signal.

“Ready to crash their system!.. You know, ‘cus my callsign is Glitch… Yeah nah, I’ll keep working on it.”

Asim /Ogre/ Badir

// New faces New places //

The ferry ride over to the New Zealand Island was actually quite nice, being well aware that his bulk would likely be too much for a helicopter that was not built for heavy lifting. Most of his armor and equipment was sent out to this place before he even left, this way it wouldn’t create too much of a lapse in research time. Making and testing biologically engineered fungi to help restore polluted biomes and take those that do well to modify them further for use on the ongoing mars missions was his current project.

The cool air was expected and refreshing compared to the temperatures of the desert lab he had been working in before this one. Still, he had a job to do and his combat specialty came first on his to do list. Speaking of Asim made a quick comment to his virtual assistant as the front of his new home for the foreseeable future came into view. “Rose make sure you scan the area here and come up with an effective plan to mitigate any damage to this natural area if a leak in the lab should occur.” After a short moment of silence a feminine voice with an Irish accent spoke into the communication device in his left ear, “Its done boss.”

“Thank you rose.” He spoke as he crossed the entry way into the building. His bionic eye displayed the information that was telling him how to get to his room as assigned in the data packet. A few faces already seemed to be up and about as the giant made his way to his room to drop off his personal belongings.

Setting everything down and placing things roughly in where they needed to go and heading for the rec room, grabbing an orange and white pouch roughly the size of a book and his 5 gallon jug of water. Asim was wearing his workout clothes with the intent on getting some lifting in before or after the impending debrief. The muscle bound behemoth was wearing grey sweatpants, slip on running shoes, and a yellow tank top that said “Average Joe’s” he was clean shaven and bald, clearly showing his plethora of scars across his left arm and the side of his face.

The cybernetic implants were not concealed and clearly showed multiple implants above and below the skin of his left arm spreading into his chest and sporadically over the left side of his face, the iris of his left eye shifted in color. Smiling at the duo in the room, one man that was sipping on a glass of whiskey and another that clearly made some interesting modifications to the fridge. “Gentleman, I am Asim Badir Callsign Ogre. It’s a pleasure to meet the both of you.”

Finding a seat on an unoccupied love seat that by the way it creaked and popped when he sat down was not meant for his weight as it protested. Opening the small pouch that clearly read “emergency food ration bars 2400 calories” a simple cookie that tasted of apples and honey. Taking chunks and eating the dry survival food casually with the occasional gulp of water from his jug, hefting the 5 gallon jug like anyone would normally use a standard sized water bottle.

/// Back to work ///

The ride over was quick, bumpy, and dusty. The land barren even for a desert as the lake dried up a few years ago taking the bulk of the local civilian population with it. Ogre remained quiet while the others spoke and drove for the majority of the way. He was not idle though, mentally going over the stream of environmental data that his sensors and Rose were feeding him. Heavy metals in the soil and a slight tinge of radiation in the dust from possibly cold war nuclear tests or other irresponsible handling of nuclear materials.

The sudden stop of the vehicles and there various orders had him stepping out of the vehicle taking a knee to provide cover if necessary and pull rear guard while the others approached the observation point. “Rose, sweep the area for contaminants and biological life signs, just not enough to trigger any sensors that might be out here.” His HUD lit up with numbers and data as he scanned their area, more of the same as he picked up on the way in. only difference was a few UXO’s at or just under the surface of the area from conflicts long passed.

“Rose, update the teams map to display the local UXO’s and make a note to drop some of the new fungi seeders in the area to see how well they do in this environment.” With that scan done Ogre went over his own gear and system checks, cycling through all of his armors components from a subtle flair of his shields, the turning of the mortar and missile rounds on his back, and cycling the action a few times on his own weapon everything came up green for him. “Ogre is set.” He called over the radio. catching what glitch said about some kind of catch phrase Ogre just couldn't help himself to be a little unprofessional before the actual start of the mission, "Hey Glitch, how about hack the planet?" he had a slight laugh to himself at the old movie reference while pointing at him with his left hand like a finger gun.

While waiting for the next step in the plan he turned from his security position to assist the other team mates with checking their gear, looking over to his fellow heavy that was built a bit taller than him which was expected as he was built more out than up. “Ready to go to work Frigga? Should be a good day.” Keeping up with his smile that could be heard in his words.

Skye sipped the whisky, enjoying it, rather than shutting it. A drink like this had to be appreciated, savoured, somewhat kept in. The evening had been a busy one for people arriving, coming in, doing things on the island of. A helicopter, boat and other things no less.

@PerfectThought

The Mancunian (of Manchester) was rather differently dressed to the Highlander, his pyjamas a bit of a contrast to the sports casual of Skye, the Scot already knowing he was a well-to-do middle aged rich boy that reluctantly, she couldn't deny the talent of. Made bloody good work of people with that rifle and anything that got in the way of it, while being capable. She may not of worked with him much, but Stafford was the kind of person she could bring to hunting game with, but perhaps not drinking whisky with. A gentleman who would be laird of his own estate, but Skye would be the one out there scalping the land, living it, breathing it. Well, that was harsh...but then again, it was the natural inclination of any Scot towards "the English". But he wasn't that bad for one, she had to admit. Even if half blind, he knew his shit, and got the job done, and well, was an ally to have in her previous work. The smell of herbs was clear off him, and while most operatives were clean-cut, cold professionals, Stafford was a chunk of the old life kept banging alive.

"Thought operatives like yous were considering retirement. Or would have failed a drugs test by now." Skye barbed back with a wry smirk, which turned quickly as it did watching as he took the bottle, pouring himself a glass. There was no hiding accent now.

"Weel, ye've fair fucked me aff at the least wi' that glass o' whisky. That's a vintage... dinnae gang chuggin' it doon. ppreciate it, cos' you wee English dinnae do tha', oh, and ye dinnae want tae ken hoo muckle effort it takes tae mak' this expensive dram get 'ere." Her accent no longer bore any civility, because she was direct now, clear, a completely barren look on her face that spat iron, before she cracked, gaggling in a smirk herself, clinking his glass, sipping a little more herself.
"Slàinte, Stafford. Good to have you back." Skye didn't hide her thoughts and instead returned a warm glow, the elder operative one she might have had some underlying wobbles with, but still, showed her complete colours with and threw the shit back just as well. The juxtaposition of her being brutal, yet warm to the feel was odd, yet a charm that kept most on side when she needed them.

@LadyAmber

Hearing the call of the other operative, she saw Captain Chaos, Sam Dalton herself. Ex-CIA asset, and the calling out of the American, dressed in a sports-casual the same as Skye, looking about and no doubt off her long flight from the States to here. She had to admit, jetlag mostly neutered people, but not Sam, the excitable operative one that was just as capable in the field. Someone Skye trusted, the silver-coloured hair of the hacker come all-around support member one that Skye could always find something to get stuck into, hearing her snicker as she dropped her bags.
"Whisky, for now. Wee fella here didn't ask, but I'll offer you one, grab a glass and savour it, because it's good to see you Sam. Not like your wee' little bourbon 'shite. Now this is a taste of something that'll really make you feel in a place. Skye replied to Sam, chuckling, knowing her stoicism was a bit of a pushback to her excited nature, but no less, Skye knew how to use it. She was unbound at times and a little too relentless too, so she understood how to get the most out of Sam, just like she would with anyone in the team. After all, half the battle was fighting well herself- the other half was getting the team to their potential too, as Skye finished pouring, firmly placing the glass on another coaster across the table of the sofa, the scarlet-haired Scot warmly smiling at the silver-haired American, knowing no doubt it was a long way to come and finally be back in the game.
"We'll get some grub on in a bit. It's my rotation so don't go drinking the whole bottle, I've got lamb to cook in it....if I say so myself, it's something special." Skye added, inviting Sam to grab a seat and join them, and enjoy the views, as well as the fine drink they had.

"Ah, nearly forgot to say. Your room's down the hall. You probably know the code and all, but make yourself at home...your weapons, tools, and armour all came through, oh, and I did leave a welcome gift too. Same goes for Stafford, actually. Don't say I don't think of you all, I got you something particular you'll like."
Skye smiled, knowing as harsh as she could be, she did look after her team. Well, most of the time when they weren't up to no good...

@BigPapaBelial

The loud rumble suddenly echoed off the walls, shaking the very glass of the building structure, enough to make most jump, yet enough to make Skye just simply scowl.
"For fuck's sake, Freya! There's a wee kiwi sanctuary on that island, you can't just zap them! What did they do to you anyway?!" Skye yelled out knowing full well Freya hadn't heard, the shockwaves vibrating the whole building, and probably, half the island with how loud the coil gun had gone off, and the big smouldering mark it had made into the distant grassy patch of land. Sighing, Skye shook her head, looking to the other two with a "can you believe this shit" face, before sipping more whisky that had somehow not been spilt out of her glass.

"Anyway. That is probably Dr Freya Kaantario, redhead heavy, doctorate of Physics and energy weapons expert, and currently, will be a MASSIVE paperwork issue I have to deal with. If her and Asim don't kill each other within a week, that would be grand too, I guess....Sam, just so you know, as Stafford does, the more paperwork I get, things don't end well. Then the whisky is the last of your issues." Skye retorted, chuckling, knowing full well Freya knew what she was doing, and had done it anyway in spite. She had chosen Skye's wrath then, it seemed, but no doubt, Freya would be smart enough to deal with it. For such an intelligent person, she seemed to be wrought on destruction, scorching everything yet.

@ReusableSword

Speaking of giants, the other one made an entry, with Asim making an entry, the cybernetically, genetically modified giant a presence and a half, even if he didn't have the raw height of Freya, he looked like a brick shithouse with legs. A force that could take down many a foe, using a variety of weapons, and even without armour would be a fierce opponent to take on.
"Good to see you, Asim. The rations look good though knowing you roughly, I'm hoping the portion I'm making is enough. You'll like this place, I think. There is a lot of flora out there you won't find anywhere else in the world. And hopefully, while Freya doesn't destroy it all with her "frickin' lasers", it should be a good ground for you to explore." Skye warmly replied, the team mum vibe of her knowing he probably hadn't met some of the team yet, nor seen this site so far.

Giants were a different breed, they were anomalies in the scope of most combat operations, yet coming across one in the field was usually terrifying, especially if they were carrying heavy weapons. Not invincible, mind. Skye had killed one, a North Korean who had certainly given her quite the fright- but Skye knew that while they may be tough, they were still flesh and blood beneath whatever armour they had on. You just had to fight smarter, find ways to whittle them down, and take them out. They may have been bullet sponges, but the right munition, the right place at the right time made any giant stoppable. And that was why Asim and Freya probably knew that too, and weren't silly themselves, which Skye was rather glad to see was on their side rather than the other one.

@Awesomoman64 @Theyra

And then speaking of destruction, the tinnie flew with a loud "FLUMP", like a grenade launcher being fired except the contents of the beer were decidedly not explosive at all. They were refreshing for the Australian no doubt, who overengineered everything, except his personality. Xander was the biggest pain in Skye's ass, she'd decided so far at least. He always seemed to ask for forgiveness, not permission, and yet somehow, the bastard just kept going. But good hackers and fighters these days, well, you just had to take your selection of a small pool, and he was very combat effective from their last outing. Mateo joining too was good to have, the Colombian operative time and time again proving his lethality with optical cloaking and being able to sabotage, take down and eliminate things with ease. He made it silky, and she hadn't forgotten her promise to him either, chilling as he did, yet Skye giving an almost impressed scowl.

"The fridge isn't meant for launching cans of beer, what is this, a frat house? The beer's gonna be all shaken up anyway, too foamy for my liking." Skye wrly responded, looking across to Mateo with a "can you believe this shit" look for the second time in five minutes, knowing the Colombian was a man of few words, and enjoyed the whisky at the least too.

All in all, a fairly diverse team. And as the sunset on the horizon came lower and lower, they had time to get to know each other, before Skye cooked up some food, and they'd then have their briefing.

---

Once enough of the team had gathered, had some food, the now slightly tipsy unit and slightly tipsy Skye made their way to the briefing room, the redhead still in her casual garb, a sign that well, this team didn't do things like the special forces might. It wasn't ranks and formality, it was to the point, more about get shit done than anything else. The room itself was buried a floor down, with a slick holographic projector and beanbags, which really was the opposite of most briefing rooms at all. That said, it still retained the fundamentals, including a board, gear listing and Skye's scribbled thoughts.

"So, most of yous' are a new batch, so I'll keep it simple. Last week our team captured a senior ranking officer of Artemis Group, the terrorist force made up of we still don't know what, shadowy politicians, PMCs, all sorts of baddies that want to really fuck over the world. So far we thought we were limited to just small-scale money grabbing operations, but the more we find, the more sinister it seems to be getting. Nothing good is gonna come of it. You're on a need to know basis, but I'm going to tell you now, they are using advanced weaponry, and other systems at the top end of the price list for militaries. Some experimental stuff, including at least a couple of Class 2 mechs we've killed before. And fuck knows where they got them from, but they could have more."
Clicking the slide, the next picture came up, of a rusted old cargo ship, in the middle of the desert.
"From what we found out from a raid in Cape Verde, we now know there's a major arms deal about to happen in Aralsk, Kazakhstan, thankfully, not in bloody Uzbekistan. We know that Artemis want to get their hands on something, but we don't know what yet. Considering the shopping list they normally have access to, something tells me this deal is much more significant. So it's worth us stopping and retrieving whatever they have. Like any wee drug dealer would tell you, the best people to steal from are the people selling the illegal, dodgy shit there is and that's our gold mine for information."

"We'll all roll in with DPVs, and gear up. Once we get some recon in, we'll make our move to grab what intel we can, and stop the deal. We'll use infiltrators to take down the defences inside, anything harsh that could stop us, then the rest of us, we're going on an assault, full frontal. I know, it's risky, but we'll have the element of surprise, and a hell of a lot of firepower to bear. Gets it done quicker and gives us less preamble."

Once they're there, we'll have limited time to mop up and clean the deal, and get the fuck out before they get reinforced. Grab any intel we can, laptops, servers, any details of what they are using, planning and who the sellers are."

"I know you have a lot of questions. The nuts and bolts are of it, we're going to go and crash their little party, and if I'm honest, we've got the firepower to go and give it to them."
Skye gave one fiery look at the team, taking them in, and for a moment, thinking about the whole setup. There was no way in a million years she had thought they'd be in a situation like this, yet here they were, the resources, place and unit to go and get things sorted. She had felt what it was like to be alone, to be a lone wolf out on the road and taking these people down, and while she almost loved that part of the life, it was good to have comrades, almost she would call them friends, to go out there and take them down with. They were a unique bunch, but she wouldn't have them any other way.

---

The group that had gone out for recon had given a good assessment of the situation, and Skye barely needed much more information, given the extent she had gotten back from the group so far giving her something to play through, watching through her glasses and playing it out, alongside her innate-know how, the Scot leaning against the DPV.
"Right, looks like plenty. Cheers for your eyes." Skye added, rolling through the footage, using the pad on her left arm to flip perspectives, views and angles.

"Ah, fuck. We have a problem. Multiple, actually."

One, that is set of submarine-spec, nuclear fuel rods I've spotted that they are....wow, uhh, they're all getting cancer off that if the idiots currently holding it are handling it like that. Like really, you're gonna have a slice of pizza after moving that assembly, and not even wash your hands? Can't be Artemis's bunch if they're that stupid, or they really have started running out of people to recruit."

Anyway, We hit that with a drone, this place gets even more toxic than it already is, and it kinda feels like an 4chan thread with how toxic it is out here anyway. We are going to have to grab that, immediately, or else fuck knows what is gonna happen. They're just inside the hull of the ship, looks like it's about four storeys or so, with most of it hollow. There might be more about, so we'll need to check."

"Two, that a 12 foot Class 2 mech with an autocannon on it at the side of the ship, and what looks to be rocket tubes of some sort. And about 40 well equipped soldiers, with a an ADATS combined AT and AA platform on the ship itself. A couple of them have exos like mine, damn, old ones but they'll pack a punch. Which means they really don't want visitors, and...

"Three, that is a Mi-24 Super-Hind just coming across the horizon, which none of yous' can hack or even try and tap into. They clearly didn't think an automated sentry was worth the hassle, so I guess we'll have to go analogue too. That will need to go, or get stolen by one of us. So yeah, it's a pucker factor 8.9 of a Thursday, or I think Friday now. " Skye added with a certain level of hesitancy, sighing as she watched the drone, the optics of the other team members and other feeds through her glasses, taking in the scene, and quickly conjuring a plan, her ability to do so. After all, she may have been lethal on her own, the others too, but her point was to make sure the chaos stayed directed, controlled and more importantly, somewhat productive, addressing them on the comms and taking a look over them, the team in combat garb a hell of a sight. From Mateo's cloaking kit to the sheer size of Freya and Asim, it was a wild bunch, but they all had their roles to play.
"Alright team, we're gonna alter this a little. We need to soften them up a little before we hit them.

@Theyra@PerfectThought
"Jaguar, get yourself in close and start gathering intel, whatever you can. Give me updates on any movements, vehicle roll ins, what's going on inside that ship, if it glows, you tell me straight away and stay very careful around it. If they have anything sensitive, grab it first. I know, I promised I wouldn't send you in alone as much, but we'll be right behind you if anything hits the fan. Just keep moving and sabotage any AT assets, line up and take anything you think that can stop us attacking. You'll have Stafford able to pick off anyone too, but because of how overpenetrating that thing is, it will fuck up whatever it hits."

"Stafford, find a spot to set up with that rifle of yours and you're gonna need to be ready to punch that mech on my command. It has a Trophy System and fairly advanced optics package at the very least which will basically whip any anti-tank missiles out of the sky. You need to be incredibly careful shooting it, or will turn you into a pink mist if it picks you up. Try and pick up the guidance or weapon system first, and do not stay in one place when shooting, especially that thing. You won't be able to kill it wholesale with that rifle, but you can at least minimise the amount it can do to us when we get close. If Jaguar has the close-in recon, you've got the wide lens so work together to pick off assets in and out, you're both on that. Once that's dead, shoot anything that looks armoured, and anyone else that isn't is. You know the score."

@LadyAmber@Awesomoman64
"Chaos, Glitch, get me control over their EM systems and let's turn whatever else they have back in on themselves so it won't be a threat to us. Radio jamming, any sentry guns, be creative but don't get lost in it and work together....or just try not to get in each other's way. Then I need you both on the assault with me. I might have a plan for that Hind, but we'll need to see where we are when we get in closer. We also need to take down that mech, ASAP. If we can't hack it to neuter it completely, I'm gonna see if I can try something else."

@BigPapaBelial@ReusableSword
"Ogre, Frigga, you two are on assault duties....and Ogre, hate to say it, but you're the CBRN expert so you're on the rods. Once we get there, you take those rods while Frigga covers and turns anything inside that ship into superheated mass. Lay down some heavy firepower if there's massed troops, take the heat but don't get too hot. Get back to the DPVs, and as soon as we do, we're going to twat' the wee fuck out of their shit and fuck the wee' twat out of the drone munition we have."

"I'll drive you Frigga, while Ogre, you're in with Chaos and Glitch. Let's get on it, team, no time like the present and I want to get my morning coffee in without it being plutonium-enriched."
Skye gave out orders to the team as best as she could, cutting the feeds as she looked across at the assembled force that was with them, and got ready to go. Heading back to her DPV, she clambered into the driver's seat, and stowing the MG3 on the side bar of the vehicle, started watching the team get to work from her arm-mounted display, as well as her tactical glasses, the Google-Lens styled device allowing her to flip through and pick up an oversight of the setup. Thanks to some networking, Skye had the benefit of the various systems the team would use, from optics to VI, drones to cameras. Leadership relied upon information, and her team would get to work doing what they did best. As always, she just needed to use their assets to her own advantage, and make sure they knew the score, watching as they all got set. Looking back over her shoulder at Freya, Skye craned her neck up at the large giantess who was riding in the back, set to go.

"If you're gonna cloak up, give me a heads up. You scared the shit out of me last time I bumped into you, girl." Skye called out to her with a wry grin, knowing as clever a woman Freya was, and prudish too, she did sometimes zone into that efficiency a little too much. Saw the world as a canvas to do science on, or, just roast literally everything. The post-modern pyro, as Skye thought of her, and Ogre's heavy munitions would come into play similarly to just inflict a lot of damage on defenders not yet used to the idea of being kerbstomped by one or two people.

Once the hunter-killer team of Stafford and Mateo had gotten themselves ready in the manner of their choosing, and started to get to work, Skye knew it would be time to hit the road, and start the attack as soon as the anti-tank defences were dead. And with a rumble of the engine coming to life, Skye gave a thumbs up to Chaos, before putting foot to throttle and pinning it down. The DPV roared as it cleared the ridge, clattering down and then catching air again over another dune, the suspension fully bottoming out and throwing anyone foolish enough to keep on gas around, yet that was what was needed to make sure they hit quick and fast. And that would be the plan, because they were coming in hot, and on the offensive, the dawn chorus about to get a lot louder.

The Scottish operator just had to pray that Chaos and Glitch weren't cranking a mixtape to this, Frigga wasn't going to set everything in the DPV on fire, and that the defenders weren't going to spring another surprise on them. Yet confidently, Skye knew no matter what, they were back, and roaring into business.

Samantha’s grin just got bigger as she took in the scene in the rec room. She was excited to be a part of this team. It gave her a purpose and it helped her feel like she was doing something about the ones responsible for her father’s death. She was still investigating the terrorist act that was responsible. The more she found out the deeper down the rabbit hole she went. Being able to step back from investigating and put some of the anger she felt into action was good. She shook her head as she laughed at Xander’s antics. She felt he was a kindred spirit. “That’s an inefficient design. It’s going to shake up the beer which means you have to wait to open it. If you don’t, the beer is going everywhere and then you will be stuck cleaning beer off the floor. I can’t see Skye letting you get away with not cleaning it up. Which means now you really are working harder than just walking across the room to the fridge.” She smirked watching Xander’s face for his reaction.

Samantha turned her head to her new commander in chief, Skye as she was spoken too. "Whisky, for now. Wee fella here didn't ask, but I'll offer you one, grab a glass and savour it, because it's good to see you Sam. Not like your wee' little bourbon 'shite. Now this is a taste of something that'll really make you feel in a place.” She sighed as the commander poured her drink. She shrugged when in Rome as they say. She liked that alcohol helped her relax but she would never understand the need that some people had to drink to excess. Sam didn’t need to trash her body and feel like crap the next day to have a good time. Alcohol mellowed her out and slowed her down which could be a good thing unless she needed her fast reflexes and thinking. She didn’t drink very often. It would be rude to turn Skye down. Sam sat down on the sofa next to where Skye had placed it on a coaster. She picked up the tumbler and took a small sip. The whiskey burned all the way down leaving a trail warmth all the way down.

“For those I have not met yet. Nice to meet you all. I am Sam Dalton, callsign Chaos.” Sam’s lips quirked up one side in a lopsided grin. Sam allowed the whisky to mellow her out and relax her. She spent some time getting to know her fellow operatives. She slipped away when Skye began to prepare food. She grabbed her bags and headed to her room. She found it with no trouble. She unpacked and grabbed a shower. She was grateful for having her own space to retreat too. She changed into a pair of yoga pants and a long soft t-shirt. She couldn’t hide the yawn. Between the shower and the whiskey, jetlag and fatigue was catching up to her. She was so tired she missed what Skye had left for her as she returned to join them for dinner and then the briefing.

Sam sat up and paid attention as Skye began to give them details of what their next mission was. She whistled softly as an anticipatory grin crossed her face. Finally! She was itching to blow some shit up.


@Awesomoman64
Xander pretended to be dictating a review of her services. “Driver was lovely and got us to our destination on time, but there was a distinct lack of on board snacks and drinks and too many camels. 3 out of 5.” Sam gave a full-throated laugh as she witnessed Xander’s antics. She gave a cry of mock outrage “Only a 3! Thank you for the feedback. I will be sure to pack the Goldfish crackers and juice boxes for you next time.” She snarked at him before she hopped out of the DPV and got down to business.

A short while later up on the ridge. Samantha piloted the drone with care and brought it around the end of the rusted out carrier and up along the end. She sent the drone’s feeds to the rest of her team. Things were going well so far. Most people looking for drones are watching the sky not the ground. She sent the drone up the rear of the ship hoping to catch any weapon’s placements. She managed to get the drone over the top of the ship. She skimmed along the roof of the ship. She sent the drone over to the edge of the ship using the ship itself to help hide the small drone as she angled it down so they could see what was on the other side. Sam slowly turned the drone, so it swept the entire length of the ship. She then began skimming along the roof she as she spotted something she hoped would help them with the next phase of the plan.

She listened to the orders being issued by Queen. “Roger that Queen. Sow Chaos with Glitch then give Ogre a ride.”

She managed to set the drone down carefully right next to a shiny communications array antenna. She could tell it was probably one they installed to use since it was not the same rust color as the rest of the ship and was fairly new. She grinned to herself. “Bingo.” She typed rapidly on her keyboard sending commands to the drone now that it was stationary. She sent a command that opened the drone up. The blades of the rotors flipped together to form a small satellite dish. The ball body open like a plastic easter egg and a small robotic arm unfolded with an alligator clip on the end. She used the built in toggle switch to guide the robotic arm. She cursed as she missed the first time. She tried again and was successful. The alligator clip clamped onto the wire she was aiming for. The jaws of the clip sharp enough to penetrate the wire coating allowing it to make contact with the wire inside.

She began typing like mad on her keyboard. “Glitch. I have hard dock into the communications array. Use frequency 453.2ghz. You take the mech.” Sam knew that Glitch would understand that her hard dock to their communications array would allow them to hack as if they were sitting at one of their terminals until someone figured out that they had taken over their own broadcasting equipment. Sam had a hard time remaining professional. She really wanted to snark at Glitch to show her some creativity. She couldn’t let Glitch have all the fun.

Sam grinned as she got into the zone. The first thing she did was release a virus that would self-infiltrate. It would keep working in the background while she worked on other things. The virus would reset all access codes. Anything requiring an access code would shut down until new codes were entered. This included antitank and antiaircraft missiles.

She pulled any data she could find in low security areas and uploaded it to their secure cloud server via the encrypted satellite link. In her time as an analyst with the CIA, she found it was often the data that the bad guys didn’t think was worth protecting that gave them the most actionable intel. Like the terrorist leader that was hooked on an obscure brand of soft drink made from coffee. He had it shipped to him wherever he was. That was how she found him.

She then rewrote the code in the operating system of their automated gun emplacements to move in the opposite direction than they were commanded. She grinned that was such as simple yet effective hack.

@FourtyTwo
She couldn’t hack the inbound hind but she could hack what intel and orders they were receiving by messing with their communications. She jammed all communications leaving the ship through the antenna array by rerouting the signal through the drone to her laptop.
Samantha loved surprising her boss. “Incoming audio stream Queen.” She hacked into their command channel and looped Queen in so she could hear what they were doing. At least she warned Queen that something was incoming. She didn’t want an angry Queen planting a boot in her backside.

She set the timer for the drone which had a small but powerful explosive in inside it. She set it to blow in 5 minutes. The small explosion would take out the communications antenna and the drone. There would be nothing left to tell them how they were hacked. The bonus was their communications would go down excpet for shortwave radio. She knew her time was up. It was time to meet up with Queen for the assault.

@Awesomoman64 @ReusableSword
She packed up all her gear and began the climb back down to the DPV. She secured her backpack into the back of the DPV. She ensured the webbing was pulled tight to prevent it from being thrown around as they went into the lion’s mouth. She climbed back into the driver’s seat. She secured her sniper rifle in the cradle that locked it into place but close at hand. She left her automatic rifle on the sling but angled it where it was quick to grab but allowed her the range of motion needed to drive.

“All aboard the Chaos Express! This train is leaving the station!” She waited long enough to hear the clicks on their restraints before she floored it in a peal of dirt and desert gravel as she sped out after Queen’s vehicle. “You know Glitch. We need to figure out how to have tunes without telling the whole world we are here. We need to work on that before the next mission.” She had the song Highway to Hell in mind for their current situation as she drove towards the rusted-out carrier. She needed to get Ogre in to secure those rods. The last things terrorists of any kind needed was the material for nuclear dirty bombs.

Stafford listened to the hearty groans and grumbles from the bloody scot. With an arrogant smirk, he retorted, "Well love, if you know the right people. You can pay off just about anything... Anyway, this is a good nightcap, but don't worry doll. I'm sure you'll be paid back in due." With that he reclined back, largely withdrawing from the conversation as he began to examine the ongoing antics in the rec room. He could already tell this team would be interesting. Yet to see how effective. But certainly interesting.

---

"Roger that, Sunray. In position." He exhaled slightly and muttered something about having to run around away from the mech. He noted Jaguar cresting the ridge, about 20 feet away from him. As his colleague got into position Stafford began his checks. He awaited the unspoken signal of Queen's throttle hitting the floor. He spied the dust clouds barreling towards the oxidized skeletons, glinting in the morning desert light. He racked the bolt, loading a one-pound HEAT round into the breech of his rifle. With a heavy push, he loaded the round into the chamber, the gun primed and ready he removed the safety. He took one last examination of the lay of the land before taking his mark.

Finally, he closed his sights on his target: the sensor array of the class 2 mech. It was truly a nasty beast, boasting a whole suite of weaponry that could turn him into the contents of a tin of spam. However, that wouldn't off-put him. If he could decimate the sensor array the pilot would have to rely on the limited set of analogue optics the mech was equipped with. This in turn would make all their lives easier, especially his, as it would limit the hulk's long-range effectiveness to practically nothing.

Stafford took a deep breath in, watching his sights sway as his chest moved. Then he exhaled, letting the reticule drift back to its resting point: directly over his target. He reached the end of his lungful and gently squeezed. He felt the rifle kick into the crease of his shoulder like a mule. The only thing stopping his arm from being broken is the rifle's recoil limitation features. And a heavily padded stock. A whistle is the only sound to be heard as in the distance he looks at his target, examining the damage. As soon as he had ascertained the extent of the damage from the shot he began to reposition. Picking himself up hastily, then the rifle. Holstering it firmly while he tried to remain as low off the ground as he could. He barked out to Jaguar, "Reposition! ASAP!" Before the opposition could determine his location he was barreling down the opposite side of the ridge from them. He engaged his exo-suit, full throttle. Sprinting into the horizon, unfortunately vaguely in the direction of the Hind, but that wasn't his primary worry. For now, he would attempt to travel in a quarter-circle arc around the AO from his previous position and attempt to fire off another shot.

@FourtyTwo



A steady silence imposed itself over the bustling noise outside of the CDG terminal.

Riding passenger in the front seat of her mother's car, Michele had spoken little of her upcoming "trip." Her mother had, of course, badgered her for nearly a week about it; it wasn't every day that a French woman took up a job in New Zealand. Then, it also wasn't every day that a former gymnastics star got recruited into a clandestine counter-terrorist operation. Somehow, though, Michele had landed in just that position.

Naturally, she couldn't divulge that to her mother. It had been a clever ruse on the part of Raven Squad to set up her cover story: Michele had been hired to coach an international dance squad based in New Zealand. All of the documentation had been doctored to perfection on the diligent hand of RS's tech experts; Skye Lyons even promised to set her up with a real gig to validate her alibi.

Even still, Mich's chest sunk when she thought of how much of her life she had had to keep away from her closest relative.

Top secrets on top of top secrets.

When she set foot on the sidewalk outside of the terminal, she was looking solemn and secluded. Even as she hugged her mother, "Au revoir, mére," drifted out from her with the distant tone of someone that might never return home. And with no further exchange of words, Michele crossed into the terminal, not looking back. Somehow, she believed her mother knew more than she was letting on; mothers always had a way of knowing.



Though it had been a week since she had arrived at the Homestead, Michele had yet to completely unpack her belongings. Less so had she fully engaged the other members of the squad. Outside of the brief, strictly business interactions in the common areas, she kept well enough to herself. A sharp memory of her first mission two weeks ago had had her reflecting since she had arrived at the base.

She had met with a few operatives in Milan. The sting operation was the one that put most of her former criminal enterprise behind bars. More than one of her new colleagues had called her out for being too soft on the crooks, especially, they emphasized, considering what the syndicate had put her through.

It was true enough that she hadn't been particularly aggressive; she had opted to implement anesthetic tactics during the raid, leaving most of her ex-cohorts passed out on the floor. This was partly for wanting them to face justice rather than vengeance, and partly out of knowing that more than a few of them were deep in it for similar reasons to her. And it wasn't like she spared all of them; Carmine and his inner circle had either been beaten to dead pulp or turned into Swiss cheese. Mich had personally done the honor of offing the boss.

Even so... Some, particularly the 'Gentleman' Stafford, had chastised her for leaving too many living bodies behind.

She hadn't responded to anyone's criticism though. She had known what she was doing, and was vindicated when the tabloids and newspapers wrote off the raid as the work of a "low man on the ladder looking to usurp the crime boss."

But still, she was being prodded... the next mission wouldn't leave room for survivors or witnesses. Mich understood that fact. The past week had been spent steeling herself for the inevitable necessity of blood on her hands. She loathed killing, having done so for unsavory tasks. If it was justified though...



After progressing through her series of morning stretches, Michele dressed herself casually, and proceeded to the common area of the Homestead. She was late getting to the socializing, but was just in time to hear Skye's rundown of the next mission's details. She listened quietly and carefully. The case seemed heavier than she could say she was prepared for. Going from taking down jewel thieves, art smugglers, and drug traffickers wasn't quite on the tier of wrecking up arms dealers... particularly ones with big money and politicians backing them.

She proceeded wordlessly on the ending of the debriefing. With no backing down, she knew it would be best to pull together her arsenal.



The cold desert night had begun to give way to daybreak along the Aral Sea. Arriving by the dead of night, the Raven Squad team was already within range of their target by the time the sun touched the eastern horizon.

Michele's night had been rough. Weighing the value of her weapons in relation to the mission had stolen more of what little sleep she was allowed than she cared to admit to the squad. In the end, she had chosen to leave her climbing gear and shotgun behind; with little space in the DPV, she worried she might take up too much space... though conversely, she had been convincing about bringing gear for a shallow dive with her despite Queen's insistence that the Aral Sea was too dried out for it to be of much use.

At her immediate disposal was her HK433. Holsters at her hip kept guard over her M9, FNP-90, and taser. Her Tactical Suit, fresh from assembly by RS's R&D, had been outfitted with sheathing compartments for her tonfa pair. Though she wasn't entirely sure how useful they'd be in an open desert, she had stocked two smoke canisters.

As it was her first true mission, Michele, designated "Hornet" had been ordered by Queen to ride, and stick with her for the time being, and do as she said.

Hornet was doing well in following Queen's orders. Her last set of instructions were to stay at the DPV and stand guard; the last thing they wanted was to get caught on their ass end by surprise. However, the guard duty was quickly chipping away at Hornet's patience. Her assault rifle at a carrying position, she bobbed and rocked back and forth from heel to toe. Every few seconds she circled the vehicle scanning out the surrounding desert. No danger out here for miles... Save for the arms dealers nearby anyways.

Hornet was just about to break from her sentry duty to check on the situation for herself when Queen came bolting back to the DVP. Seeing her leader's intent immediately, Hornet secured herself in the nearest passenger seat. There was no time to fasten in; Queen revved the engine and drove in a hurry. Hornet, though braced for the acceleration, nearly dropped from the back end of the DVP before finally securing herself next to Queen.

"What's the problem?" she asked, her English adorned, as always, by a noticeable French accent.

---

While Xander appreciated the laugh he got out of Sam. The rest of the room looked less amused. Especially Skye who made her displeasure known. That was pretty much expected. What wasn’t expected was Sam making a very similar remark about how “ineffective” the design was. Xander looked at the already opened can in his hand, then turned back to the naysayers with a raise eyebrow. Clearly his design had worked as intended and the beer was not shaken up. However, this was his first and only test. There was every possibility it was a fluke and subsequent cans would explode upon opening.

"Oi, give me some credit. I designed and built this beauty in a matter of hours. Give me a day and maybe access to Freya's lab and I'll have these cans flying across this place without even disturbing the contents." Xander said. Though he made a quick addendum for Skye’s sake. “Don’t worry, mum. I’ll test it outside or somewhere that any spills won’t cause a mess. I’m not an animal.”

After that, Xander stayed in the rec room and chatted with anyone else that had decided to linger. He had the advantage of being there a few days early so he didn’t have any unpacking or freshening up to do so he remained in his chair until it was time to head to the briefing room. On his way out he was tempted to call for another beer from the fridge, but a very angry scowl from Skye made him choose otherwise. At least until he had more time to perfect it.



@ReusableSword
After his failed attempt at a catchphrase, Ogre chimed in with a suggestion for his next try. Xander pondered it for a moment.

“Hmm. I might be able to roll with that. Thanks, Ogre!” Xander replied and gave Ogre a solid pat on the shoulder.

@FourtyTwo
They had bigger things to worry about than catchphrases at the moment. Right away the recon teams had given them a full view of the situation, and Queen was giving them a full breakdown. She made sure they understood what they were up against and divided them into groups each with a specific focus for stopping this arm deal. No shock to anyone that Xan and Chaos were given the duty of turning all of Artemis' fancy gadgets against them, and fucking up anything they couldn't.

“You got it, mum!” Xander confirmed and gave a two fingered salute to the scottish CO.

@LadyAmber
In the blink of an eye his tablet was out and searching for a backdoor into the enemy network. It would be tricky to not only find a way to break through their firewalls, but in a way that they wouldn't notice. Luckily, Chaos worked just as quick and was able to establish a hard dock with her drone. She gave him the frequency to use and just like that they were already in business.

"Oh you're making this too easy, Chaos!" Xander chuckled as he connected to the frequency. She had basically taken care of everything else, so that left Xander with just the mech. But that was more than enough for him.

Right away he hit the mech with a ‘sitting duck’ virus, making it completely immobilized. At least for the moment. To the unaware enemy it wouldn’t look like the mech was being taken over, just currently having a technical issue that caused it to stop responding. If the pilot was smart they would do a full reboot to restore systems, but it really didn't matter. By the time the mech was operational again Raven would already be hitting them in full force.

@PerfectThought
Next was the hind. It couldn't be hacked, but it didn't need to be. It just had to be destroyed. And Xander already had the perfect tool to take care of that. It was almost guaranteed the mech would be back up and running by the time the hind was in range, so all he had to do was rewrite some of the targeting protocols to mark the hind as hostile and a priority target. If the pilot wanted to use any sort of auto targeting, the hind would be the first thing it locked onto. Then when they try to fire on Raven the hind probable would be taken care of aaaand where did the sensors go? Xander tapped the screen several times but still no response. None of them had issued an overload to any of the systems, so why were the sensors suddenly offline like they were destroyed? Unless…

"Oh bugger me." Xan mumbled to himself before opening the comms. "Hey Stafford! Bloody ripper shot there, mate. But you blinded me new toy! Next time you wanna break something, make sure we ain't gonna use it first."

Xander tried to make sure his tone didn't come off as too harsh. He was annoyed, sure. But Stafford's action was more than justified, and in the end it was just a minor setback. He could still use the mech to take out that hind, it would just require a more "hands on" approach. And to do that, all he had to do was take over the hatch release. On command, the cockpit would open up completely exposing the pilot and the controls. Now he just had to ensure he could get to it.

Lastly, he took a bit of inspiration from Chaos for the finale. Once the communications tower was taken out, the mech could still be manually controlled. Great if one of them was piloting. Very bad if Artemis still had it. So Xander set a command for the mech timed to run exactly 4 minutes and 50 seconds from now. If someone did take control before then he could cancel the command at any time, but if not it would force the mech to shut the rocket tubes then prime and fire every rocket simultaneously. A misfire like that would certainly be enough to knock the mech out of commission, while still keeping the blast radius small enough to not risk the fuel rods.

With all the hacks taken care of it was time to move out. Xan snapped the tablet back onto his arm and followed the others back to their DPV. However, he did not pack his equipment into the vehicle like his companions. For his plan to work, he would need to make a quick exit. Instead of climbing into his seat, Xan clung to the railing of the roll cage with one arm and secured his feet against the side of the DPV. The extra grip strength from his exoskeleton ensured he wouldn't fall off until he was ready.

@LadyAmber@ReusableSword
"Alright, conductor. Ready to earn those last two stars?" Xan asked with a laugh. He held his rifle in the other hand and pointed it towards the mech and all the soldiers around it. "I need to get to that mech. We're on a tight deadline so just swing by it and don’t stop! Don't worry. I've jumped out of things moving faster than this." He reassured them.

As they drove, Chaos posed the idea of having music but in a way that didn’t announce their presence. His eyes lit up at the suggestion. “Ooo! We could probably use the headsets built into our helmets! Then it’s just a matter of making sure our comms are still online without subjecting the whole crew to our tunes.” Xander turned to the passenger in the back to include him in the conversation as well. “How about you, Orge? Fancy having some theme music on these missions?”

Asim /Ogre/ Badir

// New faces New places //

@FourtyTwo
Asim nodded to the team leader as she regarded him while he was eating his snack. The red head was attractive, fit, fierce, and smart with a deep career history to back up all her combat experience. A good choice for a good leader that new how to support her soldiers and execute missions to a T while being able to improvise and adapt to any given situation. If they weren’t coworkers he would be tempted to see if she was up for some fun but not now not in this situation. She had his respect though and not just the basic respect he gave everyone he met.

Washing down the dry cookie with a swig from his jug he smiled, “likewise ma’am, no need to worry about me eating you out of house and home I brought my food grower to make sure I was able to feed myself with my own lab grown food. If you like and have something you want me to specifically grow just let me know. The bank currently has everything from Red deer to mammoth if you really want to try it, any age or natural condition.” He was quite proud of that vat. A simple concept of lab grown meat to be more sustainable than normal ways, didn’t really taste all that different either. Just one of those side projects meant for the moon and mars colony missions that were still in the planning phase.

“I am looking forward to getting some samples under the microscope, this island is nice and I’d like to keep it that way. Its ok though no matter what my counterpart does I can fix, just imagine the trouble we could get into if we came up with something involving both our fields.”

/// Back to work ///

@FourtyTwo
“Copy. I’ll get those rods secured, Rose will alert you if there is a contamination issue.” Ogre moved to secure himself in the back of the vehicle. As chaos began to move out. Rose continued to generate and chose specific locations to secure the nuclear rods and the best approach to them. The others seemed fit to chat and he almost ignored them. His suit was changing up its current loaded munitions to smoke in the mortar launcher and an anti-tank missile in the rocket pod. It wouldn’t kill the mech if it got hit by it but if glitch wasn’t able to do his job it would piss it off enough to give him an out if he needed it.

@Awesomoman64@LadyAmber
“As long as it doesn’t get in the way of communication traffic I don’t mind. Would be nice to have that sort of thing in vacuum mighty quiet when that happens.” It was true after all it was unsettling to only be able to hear your breathing and heart rate in the dead silence that was vacuum, music would be nice. “Chaos get me close to those rods then dip out, don’t need you too close if the outer casing of those things get hit. It will be slow but I’ll get those rods secured and out of the line of fire and call you back around to pick them up.” Holding his gun at the ready in one hand he prepared to quickly depart the vehicle once he was close enough.

Samantha had pealed out in a peal of dust and desert gravel. She listened to the two men as she concentrated on her HUD. She had her onboard AI tagging enemy placements that she had tagged earlier based on their communications. She was happy to use the enemy’s technology against them as she piggy backed off their feed that streamed their locations back to their headquarters via wireless GPS. She watched for incoming trouble as she decided who to drop off first. It made sense to cover Glitch since the mech was on the side of the ship that Ogre needed to get inside.

Samantha kept close to Queen’s DPV until they were closer to the ship. She began running evasive maneuvers as she wove her way closer to the mech. She tried to keep the ride as steady as possible so that her partners could pick off some of those troopers around the mech and entrance to the ship. Sam drove the DPV inside a lower depression in the desert floor. It was probably a dry riverbed or flash flood basin. She used what little cover she could find as they made their way steadily towards the enemy.

The depression they were in angled away from the ship as Sam turned the DPV towards the ship. The DPV roared out of the shallow ditch catching some air. “Chaos almost in position. About to drop my first dance partner.” Sam kept her eyes on what she was doing. The automatic guns on the side of the ship began to fire at them. Chaos made the DPV dance erratically as she attempted to evade the computer targeting system. She grinned as the guns all at once jerked in the opposite direction from them and began to rake along the edge of the enemy troops. Sam grinned and whooped. “I love it when my evil plans work!” She heard the small explosion that took out the communications array as the DPV arrived within a few hundred yards of the mech and troops.

Turning the fridge into a dispenser that can launch beer at people. That is a new one for him, and for one, he is glad that Xander tested it out first instead of him. Since that is fitting, no? The inventor tests his own inventions and bears the brunt of their success or failure. Though maybe a mad scientist since who would try and turn a fridge into a launcher?

Still, Mateo said hi to the man and, after getting that looked for Skye twice. He just had to say something, "I would rather not my beer be launched at me and maybe missed, but I would rather just get it normally." Sounding slightly annoyed and simply sighed as he took a sip of his whiskey. It makes him wonder what other modifications Xander is going to do to the base. Along with how much of a pain he is going to be to Skye. Either way, it is bound to make this place more.... interesting this way. Which Mateo is not sure if that will be a good thing or not yet.



"There goes my hanging back for this one," he said under his breath as he holstered his sniper. True, he knew that there was a chance that he would have to go in, and he planned for that. Still, going in solo like this and with at least one nuclear material in play that could give him cancer if he was not careful. He sighed as he readied his submachine gun, which was his Daewoo Telecom K7. Once he was ready, he replied to Queen, "Roger that Queen and I will be careful not to get irradiated, over and out." Now ready, Mateo started moving forward to the abandoned ship.

He was about halfway there once when he heard what sounded like a whistle and heard Stafford barking at him to reposition. Which Mateo made sure to get out of the mech's line of sight as he moved to the ship. That mech is Stafford's job, and Mateo just hoped that Stafford could at least disable it before it could fire at any of them. Like him right now and not get turned into a bloody mess.

Once he reached the ship, Mateo took cover at an unprotected part of the ship and started eyeing up his obstacles, and reported back what he saw to Queen when he was done. He started moving inside the ship and collecting what intel he could find while reporting back to Queen about what he found. He stayed on the move, and he tried to be as careful as possible if he found anything glowing. The last thing he wants is to get guaranteed cancer, and he rather not go out that way. Still, he has orders and time to see what treasures these goons have.

Freya hummed looking up as others filtered in. Eyeing the others as they come in. Mateo, interesting fellow. Asim, she can respect another giant. Xander, Michele, Stafford, all unique and curious folks. Ah and Samantha, hmm another curious person. Her mom was right, it's always nice to leave a comfort zone and get to know new people.

Freya sighs and looks to Skye, "No no, madam, not a laser, light amplification by stimulated emission of radiation, is so sci fi. No no, what the team was testing was a step forward in the coil gun or mass driver technology. Firing a tungsten slug weighing about 2 pounds, through a series of magnetic coils, which then imparts an electrical charge to the slug. When it exits the...well for lack of better word, barrel of the weapon, it's traveling fast enough to be near undetectable, and hits with the force of 50 HESH tank rounds." She smiles proudly as she sashays out to the group, "If the prototype works, DARPA will take over in a few years, and then Sweden wants to hire my team to create combat version of a gamma-ray lens weapon. Now that will be a laser-type weapon we can talk about." She grins, grabs a drink from the fridge and winks.

Can we all say science geek?

She grinned over at Xander, "Tell you what, show me your blueprints for some of your work, and I'll give you the pass code to my lab here on the island. That seems like a good trade." She chuckles softly.




Frigga looked about listening close as orders are given out. She nods then waddles over to Skye's DPV, climbing up onto the back, and flashes a thumbs up, "Ready when you are madam." then looking over and crowing to Ogre, "Eh! Big man! Be careful! And don't do anything too fast, I'm your cover remember? I'll see you on the other side."

She grabbed one of the rails in the back of the DPV. the AEW Beta in her other hand resting over top of the vehicle.

And then they are off.



Roaring over the top of the dune, Frigga braces herself, shaking her head then eyeing her HUD. Quickly the comms-unit connecting with what the rest of the team is seeing. And a target rich environment it seems. LAVs, infantry running about, the mech actting a little strangely. Frigga's weapon letting out crackling lances of white hot energy, blowing infantry off their feet and nearly incinerating the ones that actually get hit.

She suddenly ships her gun, and grabs her hammer off her back. And as Queen keeps driving, Frigga lets go of her handhold, and causing the DPV to wheelie briefly from the force of the movement, Frigga jumps up, sailing 17 feet into the air, hammer held one handed, the immense thing seeming to be wielded so easily in one hand by the giantess.

A group of infantry who are in cover, watch on and begin to pepper Queen's passing DPV with small arms fire. Missing completely that there's something missing from it. Finding it odd as the DPV's forward motion corrects the front wheels hitting the ground again. One of them shouting, "Who the fuck are these people!? What the hell? What do the want Colm?" Colm another infantry man reloads his rifle, "Hell if I know Jace. Just keep firing, command should..." he never finished what he has to say as Colm is driven to the ground by Frigga's armored form, he'll survive though as it was a glancing blow but he won't be using his arms for some time. JAce though is a little less lucky. As the whistling head of Starbreaker comes hissing through the air. It slams into Jace's left shoulder and almost liquifies his shoulder and ribcage on that side, a lung collapsing and pain shutting his body down, but he has front row seats as he's still conscious as the giant valkyrie themed warrior goddess spins and sweeps, that hammer sending the squad he belongs to flying and rolling to the ground. It's over in under a minute. Jace, former soldier of this Kazakhstan military force blacks out, watching Frigga walking towards the ship. He'd have a story to tell later.

Frigga steps clear of where she landed, looking about getting a picture of what else is happening. She nods then chins her mic, "Frigga on the ground, making for the ship. Ogre, I'll meet you there. Don't stand me up." She chinned off the mic and began to jog her way towards the ship steadily, unshipping the AEW in her left hand as she goes, lashing off bolts of white bright hot energy at target sof oppurtunity as she goes.

Skye gave the go signal, and like a symphonic orchestra coming to life, the entire scene erupted. The hack from Xan and Sam, the sniper fire from Stafford, the weight of Freya in the back and the other DPV following with the two hackers and heavy aboard made it all as intense as could be.
"All ops, let's raise hell!"
Her call was simple as, as Skye looked across to Michelle, or Hornet right by her side. So far, nothing had been given to her yet, but that was all about to change.
@Wayward
"No problems, Hornet. Just doing what we do best. Pick up targets as best as you can, I'll bloody show them a hiding or two so follow on my lead, and don't stop. We're on security while Jaguar gets our docs, and Ogre prevents the bad guys getting their hands on some wee plutonium. You know, the usual!"
Skye's accent came back with the slight tinge of rage, yet light-hearted now she was back in her element, now fully engaged whilst sending it through another dune, the suspension clattering as she looked across at the mech, and drove directly around, bullets flying now.

Skye flanked the rusty ship, the mech and rods being the domain of the other DPV. For Skye's group, they were on the duty of distraction, and taking down the more specialist teams on the flank of the site. The comms hack had given Skye a perfect chance to listen in- no HVTs sadly, but the material was exactly what they were targeting. The only issue was, there was a lot more inside the ship- and while the bulk of the weapons had left, the rods hadn't yet. So it was all to play for, in getting the big thing that mattered. Getting comms and the EW advantage was going to play nicely- any AT systems were going to be moot, and most of all, Skye knew where the enemy was clustered. She was going to make them feel that.

With Freya launching herself out, Skye watched as she took some heat, but still, Skye could hear bullets flying, and even with the bravado of the heavy making an entry, and nearly tipping their DPV over in the process, they could still get after it.
"Hornet, bail out, ASAP! Trust me!"
Skye yelled out, as she put a smirk on her face, turning in a skid a little, and with that, unclipping herself from the harness of the buggy.

Throwing the DPV in neutral, Skye sat up in the driver's seat and brought her MG3 into hand and using the exo, ejector-seated herself out, letting it roll forward without her in it, and yet allowing herself to get the jump on the team right in front who wouldn't have the reflexes to point up. Skye had previously been only able to use her exo in a more linear fashion, but right now, she seemed almost like a ballerina in it, coiling and flipping over, and more importantly, pulling her trigger.
"Fucking ey!"
Skye yelled, the Scottish team lead now going into her own red haze, knowing she had nothing to think of. The team below quickly got filled with lead as she clattered into sand, leaping up onto a container and skidding along the metal, yelling as she filled another soldier with rounds, rolling down off of it and watching the carnage unfold.

"Team, grab those rods, and get tae fuck, that mech needs to go and that Hind too! I don't care in which order you do it, but let's sort this! Hornet, follow me up onto the ship and pick off any stragglers from above with your rifle- Jaguar, I'm coming up on you shortly. I'm gonna sort the innards of that ship out, and make the bastards come find out how done I am with their bullshit. They have plenty inside...oh, and thanks for the patch in, hackers."
Skye called out, hearing the helicopter rumble closer and closer, and Skye for one, did not want to be out in the open when that thing came around. She moved from container to container, avoiding fire and knew that Freya would soon collect it herself- that said, the ship's top needed to be cleared, and she had a fast way up.

With a leap of her exo's jump jet, she jumped up onto the deck of the ship from the sandy soil, flanking another group of soldiers laying fire down onto Freya and the rest of the team, sliding into cover as she came about, lobbing a frag cluster over the container she hid behind and moving round the other side. One thing had to be said- Skye seemed to almost be dancing, this fast-moving, hard hitting ball of energy that seemed to just read and breathe the firefight back, and that was what she did, the MG3's silly fire rate allowing her to spray rounds inaccurately, yet broadly at anyone in their way as she moved, covering Hornet and really embracing the idea of pushing forwards. She'd taken a couple of rounds, but when you were fast moving and hard hitting, it was difficult to get a round onto them. Especially if you were Skye Lyons, and the normally cheerful team-mum now had vanished into a relentless, unstoppable shooter that unlike a heavy, could almost gracefully bounce across the warzone and let loose.

Another exo-suited operative lept up onto the ship in pursuit, and Skye didn't need to even take much time as she let him come up from above, already aware that while he might have had the toy, he didn't know how to use it all to his best, and Skye barely had to react much to his presence. A gentle jolt and the suit threw her own exo upwards, Skye clattering into him and with a gentle twist, kicking him straight into another container, the empty shipping container itself being jolted a moment by how hard he went into it, as she landed back down with an uncomfortable roll.
"Always trying to get the jump on me, try that again, ya' wee bastard! Hornet, pick off the exo soldiers from up top with your rifle, they're like fucking wasps but we're better!"
Skye yelled, looking onto Hornet and giving her a nod, as she continued on, knowing she had to regroup with Jaguar, and more importantly, clear the innards of the ship out while Freya incinerated the others outside, and the rest of the team were on the duty of grabbing the fuel rods, taking the mech down and taking the helicopter down, among the littony of other jobs they had.

Running along the deck, she found a gap in the containers rusted out and dropped down, rolling as she landed inside the sand-filled hull of the ship, flicking her thermal imaging down as she found the stealth operative, hard at work and cloaked up. She'd seen him through her feed, and knew he had been up to all sorts in finding paperwork, data and all sorts inside. Nothing to analyse now, but for later, it would be very useful indeed.

"Got you there, Jaguar. Nice find on what you have so far. I'll take the fire, just flank and maneuverer around. These bastards have a fair chunk of body armour, so if you're putting rounds down range, pick the head and double tap." Skye commented to him, the Scot adjusting her glasses as she kept her goggles down in the dark of the ship's hull, moving around the corner and aware that any enemies would know she was here, but not Mateo. And no doubt that would come in handy, as she moved through the hall of rusted containers, slow now and listening out.

A few squads were moving, so she moved to the side of a set of containers, and with a spring, lept forwards knowing Mateo would likely be able to shoot from cover while cloaked, Skye moving over the pile and back to her dance. A burst of the MG3 and no kevlar was going to stop what she had on tap, clattering the group as an exo-clad soldier lept back over and ran down onto Skye, where he lept onto Skye's position faster than even she could react from above. With a turn, Skye felt him try to kick for the head and sprayed his G36 around her- before she could take those rounds, Skye ducked and rolled despite getting kicked directly by him, charging back at him with her MG3 pointed directly into his chest, and bursting away as she pushed him against a container. Exos were tough, but not THAT good, making bolognaise of the situation that left a bit of claret over Skye. Pulling back, Skye sighed out, the glowing orange barrel of her machine gun telling all with splatter on her face. The redhead had inadvertently gotten her warpaint on, just not the kind she'd personally choose, but if anything, it just kept her rampage going.

"You're worse than fucking midges, I tell yous, Christ." Skye spat blood back, taking a moment to breathe, winded by being hit pretty hard but pushing down the pain in her ribs to keep going. There wasn't much ship left at all, as she heard the sound of an HMG spray into the containers ahead, making Skye dart back behind more solid cover, at least two containers thick, pulling a smoke grenade off her harness, and taking her own action.

The normal thing to do would be to ask Stafford to drop the HMG with a shot, but Skye wasn't stopping today. Besides, he had more important work to do covering the rest of the squad. Skye was here as a distraction, and right now, anything detracting from that wasn't in her favour. With a pop of smoke, the HMG sprayed wildly, but Skye took the widest angle she could, far from where she was before, and with one leap, was over the position, this time with her MG3 holstered back and her forged tactical knife in her right. With a slash, she slammed into the heavily armoured gunner and whisked the knife into the female gunner's neck, the MG3's burst fire in one hand going into her assistant in the little position that had been set up at the ship's split position, where daylight now came through and poured in. Breathing out, Skye looked around at the scene, knowing Freya and Ogre were no doubt collecting a hell of a kill count, but she was making it seem like there was one more inside. Nobody had been watching, not unless they were on her feed, but the amount of blood on her face that wasn't hers, and the carnage she'd caused was indicative. It was very easy to underestimate her, but when Skye was in her element, she didn't need to be afraid. There was a reason there were hushed stories about her. She got the job done, and always found her method in. Her team had helped her to do that, much like she'd pointed her team in the direction of fire and gotten half of the job done already, the majority of longwave comms dead and the shortwave now hit too making the enemy radio chatter nearly vanish. What seemed to most like an impossible job was just another Thursday. It was what quietly added to her legend- even without an exo, Skye was fast on her feet and knew how to flank, move and always get the drop, and know sometimes when to pick her own fight and save the support for elsewhere.

"Jaguar, you're clear. Might be a nice spot for some silenced shooting here. Team, can I get a status update on those rods?" Skye started, knowing the chain of orders was significant, but she had to ensure they were all on focus, and getting their tasks done. As nice as she was, in times like these, being direct and to the point got things clear, and she knew they knew she meant well. And at the moment, as dry as it felt just going in and taking down the deal, the game had changed when nuclear material was on the line.
"Frigga, clear up any remaining pockets, turn it to cinders. Glitch, Chaos, whatever the fuck you're doing, make us an exit strategy and sort the mech and the heli how you've got it lined up, ASAP. Stafford, pick up any other machine guns, armoured vehicles, snipe it out and pick off any stragglers or runners. Hornet, make sure Ogre's got no beef when he's grabbing those rods, and regroup on me. As soon as Ogre is clear with the materials, we're making fucking haste out of here!"

Skye barked out, stealth gone now completely and what was left was anarchy. She checked herself over, and dusting herself down, flicked her thermal goggles back off, knowing that the team would now have a clear shot to execute their plans- casually borrowing a mech, recovering nuclear rods, clearing up a mix of regular and exo-armed soldiers that were taking more than their fair share of hot lead today, and oh, an attack helicopter coming in hot and fast with an autocannon, rockets and missiles that would kill any single member of the team without issue.

Skye sucked on her water carrier a little, and only wished it was last night's whisky, because today was just getting more complicated by the second.

@BigPapaBelial@Theyra@LadyAmber@ReusableSword@Awesomoman64@Wayward@PerfectThought

---

Xander clung to the side of a DPV as it ripped across the desert at full speed. Chaos was really doing everything she could to test his grip as she swerved and dodged all around, even going so far as to drive into a ditch and catch some air time on the way out. For anyone else this would have amplified their anxiety. A wild ride on the way to what was surely a suicide mission. Instead, it took all of Xan’s discipline not to take his helmet off to feel the wind against his face as they rolled in. Maybe even scream and holler like they were on a roller coaster. He was having way too much fun for what was about to go down, but hey, this was what he signed up for. Why couldn’t he find enjoyment in it?

Unfortunately, his enjoyment did not last. As they neared the target Xan heard the blast from the communications drone. Great news for Chaos, but the lack of a bigger blast before it was bad news for him.

“Hang on. Where’s the kaboom? There was supposed to be a mech shattering kaboom!” Xander remarked as he attached his gun to his back and pressed the side of his helmet. The built-in camera zoomed in on the mech. Damn. It was still mostly untouched and completely functional. “Ah hell. They must have figured out what was going on and deployed a countermeasure to block my commands. Well. Guess we’re doing this the hard way!”

Only a few hundred yards between them and the mech, Xan decided it was time to act. He removed two of the smoke grenades from his belt and loaded them into his lobber. Each one fired out across the desert and created a thick fog along the sand in front of the soldiers and mech. It wouldn’t last long being outdoors, but it would be enough to give them an opening. His hand released from the roll cage as he leapt off the DPV and sprinted full speed towards the boat. His exoskeleton gave him a tremendous speed boost as he ran behind the DPV. They would be so focused on the car, they wouldn’t notice one of the passengers had gotten off a stop before.

Taking advantage of that time, Xan removed the dingo from its resting place and hurled it towards the deck of the ship. The contraption bounced and slid across the rusted steel floor, but remained dormant. It would awaken in time, but for now Xan wanted all eyes on him. Queen had the right idea. With her causing mayhem inside the ship, all the personnel in that area would be focused on her while the other operatives slipped away with the goods. He would do the same on the outside giving maximum distraction, especially when he was behind the seat of that mech.

With the dingo on deck, Xan broke through the smoke and continued running at full speed. For the most part things were going how he predicted. The soldiers were focused on the other team who had already gone in loud, and the automatic defenses were basically useless. However, some of the ground troops must have realized the smoke cover wasn’t for the DPV and kept their guns trained on the artificial clouds waiting for something to come out. They opened fire the second Xan showed himself. Too bad Xan was ready for this. Their bullets failed to connect as he pivoted and ran parallel to the ship. He held down the trigger on his F88 and returned fire. While he managed to take down the grunts who had spotted him, others around them had started to take notice, and his mag was now dry.

The magazine dropped from the back of the F88 as Xan pressed the release with his thumb, while simultaneously grabbing a spare magazine with his other hand and inserting it into the slot. The plan was to get everyone’s attention, but only after he had the mech, and right now it looked as though he had drawn attention too soon. The soldiers had begun pointing their guns at him. Most of their fire was going wild or pinging off his armor. The real trouble came when the mech turned to face him and pointed the autocannon in his direction.

Raven’s exo-skeletons were top of the line, and Xander was a highly skilled operative who had been trained to use them, but even he didn’t stand a chance against a class 2 mech on his own. If he attempted to attack it now while it had him in its sights, he wouldn’t make it back to tinker with that fridge some more. No, he had to try a different tactic. He had one in mind, but he’d need some cover.

Pushing the exo-skeleton’s speed, Xander made a beeline for the bow of the ship. The ground behind him exploded into clouds of sand as the autocannon’s bullets missed their mark by inches. Once he had reached the bow, Xander ducked to the other side of the ship and pressed himself up against the hull then pulled his final smoke grenade and dropped it at his feet to give him complete concealment. It would take the mech a moment to get around the ship which gave him enough time to set up. Switching from his rifle to his tablet, Xander worked quickly.

First: He activated the dingo. While the soldiers on the deck were too busy trying to get sight of him or chase Queen down inside the ship, they had forgotten about or missed the device that had been tossed up there. In a split second the sentry unpacked and started searching for prey, and boy did it find a feast.

Second: Xander got the remote hatch program running. He wanted to handle this part himself, but at the rate this was going he would eventually be too exhausted to keep going while the mech still had plenty of ammo. If they wanted to take it out they would have to do it in one quick blow. Short range communications were still operational, and given the pilot of the mech came at him so quickly, he was willing to bet they still had it active to talk with their teammates. However, once they knew he had the ability to just open the front door, they would likely jam all signals and just stay cut off from everyone until the encounter was over.

@PerfectThought
Xander got on the comms and called for the team’s sharpshooter. “Hey Stafford! Think you can pull off another shot like before? I’m going to do a short range open on the hatch. Soon as I do you’ll only have a second or two before the pilot manually closes it and probably jams all signals. I need you to aim directly at the cockpit of the mech and fire on my mark. I’d do it meself but that thing’s got a lock on me. I stick so much as a toe out there and it’ll turn me into red mist.”

“I’m counting on ya, mate. If you can pull this off I’ll owe you one. If you can’t, I will give you shit for the rest of my life, which at that point would more than likely only be a few minutes. Alright. Let me know when you’re in position.” Xan waited for Stafford’s signal before he mashed go on the hack, activating the hatch release. Sure enough a large mechanical click came from the mech as the hatch unlocked and began to open.

“MARK!”

Sam grinned as she heard the boss order “All ops, let's raise hell!" Now that is the kind of order she can get behind. She let out a loud whoop before acknowledging the order, “Roger that boss, Chaos inbound.”

Chaos pressed harder on the gas pedal and focused hard on her HUD. She made the DPV jerk and dance like it was doing the twerk. It did the job as she managed to throw off the targeting by their troops. They had taken some bullets but so far, they had hit nothing with any firepower that matter. The SAM surface to air antiaircraft missile silos powered down and pointed at the ground. They were waiting on new launch codes. Sam grinned as she listened to the chatter on the hacked frequency. She made a fake sympathetic noise as they lost their satellite uplink communications from the ship. She saw a puff of smoke from the explosives on the drone. The automatic guns that they were trying to use to target the team was pointing in the opposite direction and firing on their own troops. Chaos was not worried about driving straight into the middle of the enemy. She trusted the team to take them out as she worked to maneuver Ogre and Glitch into position.

They were about 150 yards from the mech and the entrance to the ship when Sam heard Skye give additional orders.
"Team, grab those rods, and get tae fuck, that mech needs to go and that Hind too! I don't care in which order you do it, but let's sort this! Hornet, follow me up onto the ship and pick off any stragglers from above with your rifle- Jaguar, I'm coming up on you shortly. I'm gonna sort the innards of that ship out, and make the bastards come find out how done I am with their bullshit. They have plenty inside...oh, and thanks for the patch in, hackers."

Samantha smiled as Skye thanked them for their efforts. She would high-five Glitch if she wasn’t driving. It was always nice to have her work appreciated. Sam went back to focusing on her driving when Glitch tossed out some smoke grenades and took off towards the mech. She punched it as she swerved towards the ship entrance to drop off Ogre. She slowed down dodging around their soldiers and equipment for cover as she found a good place to drop off Ogre. She pulled to a stop near the entrance to the ship. She grabbed her rifle from the cradle and took some quick shots aimed at covering Ogre’s exit and entrance to the ship. “Ogre my friend they are playing your song. See you on the flip side.” She continued to aim taking a headshot and moving on dropping the soldiers around the entrance. She switched directions searching for any soldiers moving towards their position. She continued to cover Ogre until he made it safely into the ship.

She dropped back down into the driver’s seat. She then racked her long gun and grabbed her automatic rifle. It was easier to handle and aim at shorter distances. She made sure her automatic rifle was on the sling and easy to get to. She pealed out driving erratically. She grinned wickedly as she drove behind the mech using it for heavy cover. She could hear the gunfire pinging off the armor of the mech as the soldiers tried to aim around it to hit her. Glitch had taken it upon himself to deal with the mech. That left her to deal with the Hind. Samantha had an idea, it was kind of crazy but it should work. Samantha began driving towards the closest Surface to Air Missile launcher.

They had thinned out the soldiers on the way in but Samantha still needed to dodge bullets. She drove over one soldier. He was in her way. Samantha could still hear bullets occasionally pinging off the DPV. She pulled the DPV up right next to the SAM. She hoped they wouldn’t fire not wanting to blow up their own missiles. Samantha unlatched her seat belt and ran to the back of the DPV. She was digging around in the gear compartment. She grabbed her backpack and toolkit. She was focusing on her idea when she heard Skye come over the radio once more.

"Frigga, clear up any remaining pockets, turn it to cinders. Glitch, Chaos, whatever the fuck you're doing, make us an exit strategy and sort the mech and the heli how you've got it lined up, ASAP. Stafford, pick up any other machine guns, armoured vehicles, snipe it out and pick off any stragglers or runners. Hornet, make sure Ogre's got no beef when he's grabbing those rods, and regroup on me. As soon as Ogre is clear with the materials, we're making fucking haste out of here!"

Sam swore and muttered under her breath. “It’s just a Hind Attack Helicopter with hardened computer systems to prevent damage from EMP and hacking. No problem! Piece of cake. Now they want an exit strategy after turning the DPV into a mobile battering ram. We still have to move all the damn rods. What the hell are we going to move them in!” Samantha looked around the area for inspiration. She would start with the hind.

Sam ran full out for the SAM Missile Launcher. On the way she took out two more enemy troopers on the way with a spray from her automatic rifle. She hastily dropped to the base of the launcher and used her tools to open up the access panel. She ducked as a gunshot pinged off the casing by her hand. She ducked behind the launcher for some cover after she plugged in the cord she needed. She plugged the other end of the cord into her laptop. She was then typing hastily as she overrode its programming by giving it new launch codes directly. She powered it back on and marked the HIND as an incoming enemy aircraft. Samantha unplugged her laptop and stored her gear back into her bag.

She once more took up her rifle and ran away from the SAM. She hopped back into the DPV and began driving away. She wanted to be out of the danger zone before it started launching missiles at the HIND. She didn’t want to be fried by the backwash of the launching missiles. She drove back towards the ship. She used a zigzag pattern to disrupt incoming fire. She could still hear shots pinging off the DPV’s armor. She was looking for another vehicle they could use for their exit plan. She spotted something under a large camouflage tarp on the far side of the mech. She headed in that direction. She was careful to watch the mech. She tried to give Glitch plenty of space as he worked.

She hopped out of the DPV as a hail of gunfire came her way unexpectedly. There were four exo-equipped troopers by whatever was under the tarp. Sam dropped to her knees behind the DPV as she took a shot to the chest. The shot hurt like she was kicked in the chest by a mule. It robbed her of breath. She struggled to get a deep breath as she lay on the ground like a floundering fish for a few moments. Her armor had stopped the bullet, but she had at least bruised ribs from that shot. She knew she was out of time and needed to get up. She finally managed to gasp out a deep breath. She managed to crawl back and lean against the DPV. She managed to get back up onto her knees. She carefully peaked around the end of the DPV and spotted three of the troopers moving towards her. She carefully aimed and began picking them off as quickly as she could. She circled back around to the other side of the DPV as she moved to get a bead on the last trooper she had seen.

Her movements were no longer as graceful as they had been. She had a noticeable hitch on her right side. It hurt to lift her rifle, but she pushed through. She got a quick shot off just as the enemy soldier spotted her and began to raise his rifle. She moved forward, firing as she moved. The enemy trooper had managed to get a shot off, but it went wide. She finished him off with a quick burst before she went to investigate what they were hiding under the tarp.