[center][h2][color=#FF7800]Boraro[/color]
Camp Hannula, Finland[/h2][/center][hr]The Cameroonian stood outside, breath visible in the early morning air. Borrowed phone in one hand and a scrap of paper in the other, Ebrima dialed the number Raph gave him after several minutes of persuasion and a near argument. Well, first he got a laundromat in Tel Aviv, then a restaurant in Eliat. What even was this man’s handwriting, Christ…

The third attempt connected on the second dial.
[color=#C92EBF]”[i]Khen?[/i]”[/color] A middle-aged man’s voice came through.
[color=#FF7800]”Avi?”[/color]
[color=#C92EBF]”[i]Shlum, Ebrima.[/i]”[/color] A hint of a smile appeared in the bored and tired voice, [color=#C92EBF]”They finally let you have a phone?”[/color]
[color=#FF7800]”It’s a loaner. I do not have long to speak, but I need a favor.”[/color]
[color=#C92EBF]”There is not much I can offer you these days. Unless you would like to hear a flute song.”[/color]
[color=#FF7800]”Flute…?”[/color]
[color=#C92EBF]”I had hoped to learn guitar, but I wasn’t allowed stringed instruments.”[/color]
[color=#FF7800]”I see. No, this is something I would only trust you or Viktor Bout with. Who was that film maker you told me about last year? The Italian pioneering that system that you wanted to… Repackage?”[/color]
[color=#C92EBF]”Cristina Severanti? What about her?”[/color]
[color=#FF7800]”Do you still have the contact?”[/color]
[color=#C92EBF]”Yes? Why, may I ask?”[/color]
[color=#FF7800]”I am doing work… let’s call it public service. They agreed to mark this help on your record.”[/color]
[color=#C92EBF]”For what good it will do.”[/color]
[color=#FF7800]”I cannot tell you the scope of our work, but it will.”[/color]
There was a pause. [color=#C92EBF]”That bad?”[/color]
[color=#FF7800]”That bad. Ms Severanti, please?”[/color]
[color=#C92EBF]”I’ll send it by message.”[/color]
[color=#FF7800]”Thank you. I’ll tell Enri you said ‘Hello’.”[/color]
[color=#C92EBF]”Waitwhat?”[/color]
[color=#FF7800]”Yes, turns out our little keyboard warrior is alive. And now no longer thinks we left her to die. I’ll give her the number.”[/color]
[color=#C92EBF]”Please do.”[/color]
[color=#FF7800]”I have to go. Goodbye for now.”[/color]
[color=#C92EBF]”Goodbye.”[/color]
[hr][center][h2]A few days later[/h2][/center][hr]Ebrima rushed out of cover, immediately taking a hail of fire from the two Blue Sword troopers, the armor shrugging off the two lead hoses aimed at it for long enough for him to stagger behind another wall.
“How hard is this fucker to bring down?”
“Not long now, go, get around him, I’ll keep him pinned!”
The first trooper rushed out under covering fire from his buddy and rounded a corner to see what shouldn’t be possible - Ebrima changing positions, somewhere he shouldn’t have been even with a jump pack.
“The fuck- My 20!”
“Wha- Moving!” His buddy recovered from the impossible situation quickly and moved to catch up.
The first one, meanwhile, fired a few shots in vain before following, hearing gunfire from elsewhere, likely his partner finding an angle on the Cameroonian merc. He rounded a corner to find Ebrima behind a low wall, clutching his arm. He fired, the injured African completely ignoring him once again. Alright, what the fuck? This was getting ridiculous. The Blue Sword trooper moved forward when he saw Ebrima. Again. His aim alternated between the duplicates, not knowing what to think when a hand landed on his shoulder.
[color=#FF7800]”Your friend is dead.”[/color] Ebrima said calmly, [color=#FF7800]”And now, so are you.”[/color] He added as the exercise was called and three Tricksters - small hexrotor drones with a speaker and a holographic projector Severanti used to create realtime CGI effects in her movies - returned to the mounts on the back of Ebrima’s armor along with a standard Scout drone borrowed from Blue Sword that had been keeping track of them for him the entire time. If the pristine condition of Ebrima’s armor was anything to go by, at no point were they even shooting at the man himself.

Enri and the techs had spent the time well, completely unfucking the software of Ebrima’s exosuit and ditching some fat they couldn’t fix, meaning it was actually possible to upgrade the thing without multiple cascade failures. With Sam’s help, three charging ports were added to the back of his armor, each carrying one Trickster drone, and an AI of Enri’s make to manage them all, each trickster capable of projecting a lifelike image of any member of Raven plus some preloaded Blue Sword and civilian scans. A second, less sophisticated AI was added to run the two Scouters, although anyone in the team could take control of either of them through their armor at any time if needed. The onboard power packs were likewise tripled to keep up with the increased power demand, the Scouters having about an hour each in them but the projectors draining the Tricksters fast and needing in-field recharging after less than five minutes of use.
[hr][center][h2]The briefing[/h2][/center][hr]Ebrima actually didn’t know what to think about the briefing. Space. Fucking space. How? It was one thing to have him go underwater. He knew water, never really dived except that one instance of an overturned RHIB they all agreed to never talk about, but fine, alright, diving. But space?

[color=#FF7800]”Air and Sea-borne anti-satellite weapons are nothing new. Why not down the station from here if we believe it to be a threat? I am not by any means a scientist, but any toxin that may be aboard should disperse harmlessly in the vacuum, no?”[/color] Ebrima asked.

[color=#FF7F7F]”Jamming is easy enough wirelessly, and I brought a lot of infected drives with a wide array of payloads from home to hand out. Tell me what you want and we’ll see what can be done, on top of Sam’s pocket drones.”[/color] Enri spoke up, [color=#FF7F7F]”What worries me is that launch sites are typically hardwired for reliability, so if they want to launch, we most likely can’t stop them unless we’re in the command center. What’s our contingency for that?”[/color]

Ebrima had one more question, waiting for everyone to get theirs out of the way and to see if anyone else’s mind went down that grim path, only speaking if his head was the only one fucked up in that way. [color=#FF7800]”It’s a lot of work to do. Beyond Sol Hestia, what do the priorities look like?”[/color] He didn’t say it directly, but the implication of leaving the hostages to their fate if needed was clearly there.