Nuts!, fear not, you had your retribution. It is 3am and I should be going to bed but your update is keeping me awake. Also, thoroughly amused by the first 30 seconds of your music selection - always fun to hear a soloist fail to keep time with the rest of the orchestra and have that be the take that the studio chose to use.
[x] (1.5x) Rewire the Mat-Trans to bring your security forces in. Time to open up a Moscow
(-0.3x) Call Donald and have him hire more Paladin Security guys to bring in even more firepower. Maybe even one of their 'special units'.
[X] Have Serafina boot up the HITMark Vs recovered earlier and bring them in with the reinforcements.
[X] (2.0x) Blow Up The Helicopter.
NUTS! STUNT HAS ALL OF MY APPROVAL!
The real question now is how in the hell did he pull something like that off the first time?!
"Ho ho ho! Saint Nicholas comes early this year!" he bellows, the sound perfectly in-character with the holosuit that's attempting to disguise him as the world's most buff Santa Claus ever.
Militarization Kits for Paladin Sedans and Spectre Limousines (compatible with the LX-4)
Anti-Missile Defense System (Matter 2/Correspondence 3 'ban') [1]
Deployable Autocannon (Correspondence 2/Matter 2 to 'teleport' the autocannon in) [2]
Deployable ATGMs (Corr 2/Matter 2) [2]
Deployable Microwave Pulser (Forces 2, Mind 2 'oh god it's burning') [1]
Deployable HV-SAM System (Forces 3, Matter 4, Mind 2, Correspondence 2) [1]
Armor:
Stalin-MkI Power Armor [2]
11B/11L soak, 8 Armor HLs
14.5mm double-barrel HMG
Six-pack 57mm rocket pod
Optically-Slaved Free Electron Laser (Enlightenment 5, Forces 3, Time 3)
Extremely Paradox Resistant
Industrial Exoskeleton[1]
8B/5L soak, 8 Armor HLs
Multitool Manipulators
Radiation and Hostile Environment Shielding
Electromagnetic Rams Provide Extreme Strength
Grip Claws Are Effective Improvised Weapons
Weapons:
ARS-8 Multiple Missile Launch System [1]
Fires multiple 37mm smart missiles
Correspondence 2 multi-target system
Matter 4 nanofabricator for in-field reloading
Masses 40 kilograms
7K80-F Thermobaric Weapon System [1]
80mm Semi-Automatic Shoulder-Fired Mortar
Uses Guided Thermobaric Shells w/Rocket Propelled Terminal Stage
Designed for Augmented Firers
7K114-D Augmented Infantry HV Railgun [1]
Mass: 80 kilograms, Length: 2.5m
Payload: 10mm tungsten penetrator
Sniper Rifle Rated For Anti-Tank Use
Recoil Lethal To Unaugmented Firers
Unbraced Firing May Cause Malfunctions
Early quantum computer (circa 1960)
Mass: 80 kilograms
Enlightenment 6
Requires dedicated programs to use
IXC-152 programs
Chaos Theory (shows minimum adjustments to create potential negative consequences to victim, Entropy 4)
Counter-Statistical Modeling (wards against Time/Entropy predictions, Time 2, Entropy 2)
Database Trawl (localizes a target's location via database correlation, Correspondence 2)
Decrypt (breaks through mundane security, Forces 2/Entropy 2)
Overload (enables Halt/Spontaneously Combust code in target electronic device, Forces 3/Correspondence 3)
IXC-8 Direct Interface System
Telepresence Interface System (Correspondence 4/Mind 4)
Enables HITMark Synthflesh Mimic System (Matter 4/Life 4)
Compatible with all modern HITMark Variants
Buffered Proxies Provide Protection From Lethal Biofeedback (Corr 2 Ward)
User May Use Abilities, Enlightened Science, and all other qualities while remote-piloting
User Is Insensate While Remote-Piloting
Sleeper Technology:
1980s-era supercomputer spare parts (gallium arsenide chips)
Various heavy weapons
Diamond-tipped drill bits and other mining equipment components
Probably not! Also, there's less notable loot, most of that being "whatever mundane stuff you think would vaguely fall under 'heavy equipment' and would be amusing".
So uh, if we can just surreptitiously push the old Hypercomputer through the Mat-Trans that would be fantastic. I mean it only weighs 80kg so just throw it on a dolly and roll it through when the VA's aren't looking
So uh, if we can just surreptitiously push the old Hypercomputer through the Mat-Trans that would be fantastic. I mean it only weighs 80kg so just throw it on a dolly and roll it through when the VA's aren't looking
Something to keep in mind - the longer we take clearing the building, the more loot we can get, yes - but the more likely it is that Panopticon might take notice of what we're up to and show up.
We probably get out of that fine. Our VA allies? Not so much. And we probably lose a fair bit of the loot, too.
And the fact that we're going to have to split the loot at some point, and both don't want to do that somewhere where Panopticon might notice, and we'd rather not explain that we want to stay out of Panopticon's notice...
I don't see trying to push further being a risk that has a whole lot of payoff. Let's grab a bunch of the good stuff and pull out, sniping the chopper being a bonus.
[x] (2.0x) Bug out. Use the Mat-Trans to get out of here.
[x] (-0.3x) Take as much loot as you can grab and run. Don't use the mat-trans, you'll have to load it into the Syndicate limo.
Panopticon is busy going after Filipov. And pulling out without killing all the Baali defeats the entire point of going with this raid choice instead of another.
[x] (1.5x) Rewire the Mat-Trans to bring your security forces in. Time to open up a Moscow
(-0.3x) Call Donald and have him hire more Paladin Security guys to bring in even more firepower. Maybe even one of their 'special units'.
[X] Have Serafina boot up the HITMark Vs recovered earlier and bring them in with the reinforcements.
[X] Have Kessler take out that helo. Try not to think about how he does it too much.
[x] Have Henriette Juice up our HITMarks with specialist modules
Okay if Kessler is dealing with the Helicopter and Serafina is booting up the HITMarks, then lets have Henriette load the HITMarks we are activating/ bringing in with specialist Modules, ie Procedures.
[x] (1.5x) Rewire the Mat-Trans to bring your security forces in. Time to open up a portal to Hell Moscow in your own Construct.
(-0.3x) Call Donald and have him hire more Paladin Security guys to bring in even more firepower. Maybe even one of their 'special units'.
[X] Have Serafina boot up the HITMark Vs recovered earlier and bring them in with the reinforcements.
[X] Have Kessler take out that helo. Try not to think about how he does it too much.
[x] Have Henriette Juice up our HITMarks with specialist modules
So for Procedures for Henriette Corr/Forces electromagnetic projectile repulsion
Maybe some matter/Forces ERA to protect against KNIFE MAN what have you
Jamelia needs some combat rotes, so the standard Entropy/Time/Corr/ Forces can work, but I will think up some more later.
Also both of them could benefit from a Corr/Forces Aimbot Procedure or in Jamelias case a Corr/Forces/Entropy Aimbot Procedure
Also, I'll need to see what special inbuilt Procedures our power armor has as well, since we will want to activate more things. Though if we are planning to go FULL THORTON we can always use of MANIPULATION POWER and Mind to piss off/shame the blood addict Infernalist ex-Technos to stay and fight , which would be fun.
You know, we observed that the Ghouled traitors were running low of vitae earlier, and there's a whole load of helpless Baali just sitting there, full of all that lovely, delicious, powerful blood. They're not using it. Indeed, surely it's in there own interest to 'donate' some to their valiant allies fighting and dying to save them. Just a bit of a top up, take the edge off the hunger.
What's that you say? It's powerfully addictive and you can't stop? Well, of course that's not true. It's just standard, accepted triage techniques to sacrifice those that can't be saved in order to make sure the rest survive, and well, that Baali wasn't going to anyway, was she?
Of course, all this would be backed up by either a tailored virus and/or subliminal developed by Serafina and Jamelia based on what she'd surreptitiously learned about that kind of RD's metabiology from examining Rose
Could we do a bit of Passive Aggressive Troll Casting in order to fuck with the incoming CoD protagonist? Something along the lines of, "only a suicidal idiot would attack such an entrenched enemy position."
Hmmm, Heres a thought, those Mercs Donald is calling in, he can improve their kit with Primal Utility and give them Countermagic right? or give them extra actions by providing them with some of the specialized Progenitor "go kits" he has laying around (Time 3). Right?
Hmmm, Heres a thought, those Mercs Donald is calling in, he can improve their kit with Primal Utility and give them Countermagic right? or give them extra actions by providing them with some of the specialized Progenitor "go kits" he has laying around (Time 3). Right?
Given how Ecstatic giving them coke would be, I think the pretty girl effect might be safer.
Offering them a bonus would also seem to fit well within the Syndicate paradigm, and quite nicely as a Time effect (possibly with Primal utility to reduce the paradox, or to enchant them with the effect) to expedite their preparation so the mercenaries can be ready to deploy near instantly, fully briefed and ready to enter combat.
"Ivan", Jamelia says over the phone. "Petrokov. Everything you have on him. Hypercram me."
The noise of the phone is all too characteristic and sounds a bit like an old dialup modem cross-bred with a record played backwards. Jamelia knows she's going to have a migraine after this, but she needs it. The stream of information breaches her consciousness, already integrated and analysed.
Jakob Petrokov, DoB 1962.12.21, recruited from associates of Euthanatos death-cult, successfully Reprocessed...
Prideful. Arrogant. Self-justifying. Blames the Union for abandoning him.
"Get me a link to the command centre," she tells the Virtual Adepts. "Voice only. I'm going to talk to the bastard in charge."
Jamelia swallows. She takes and holds a breath, calming herself down. She needs to protect her mind against any tricks he'll use against her. She's ready for the use of any memetic catchphrases or white-noise words.
"Director Petrokov," she says, down the broadcast frequency. "It's too late for you."
"Too late?" The man's words come back after a pause, his voice pained. "I expected better from a 'hero of the Masses'. Something pithier. Some bragging about your wrong-headed selfishness."
"Says the vampire's tool who answers to ENEs," Jamelia says, her voice cold.
"I protect my interests," Director Petrokov says. "You? You're a Reality Deviant. A woman who works for the losing side. A bunch of pathetic rebels against a society which crushes you underfoot. You're me, back in the sixties."
"The sixties?" Jamelia permits herself to smile. "That's funny. I didn't think dogs like you lived that long."
"Even if you escape, you'll be hunted down. I'll see to it. All of society will hunt you down. You're an outcast. A loner. A loser," the Director says.
She can hear spittle against the microphone. "Keep talking," Jamelia says. "Each word lets me hear how weak you are. How you're a pathetic junkie strung out on vampire blood. How you've let the man you once were down. You're trying to kill me, and you're not doing a very good job of it. Your masters are going to be very disappointed in you, boy."
"You'll make a mistake, just like your friends did," he retorts.
"No, you're the one who's messed up. Maybe your masters should take away your dog biscuits for a while," Jamelia says. She's having a little bit too much fun with this, she has to confess. There's just something... thrilling about tearing apart a blood addict. "That'll help you learn, won't it? They're going to have to discipline you as a pet, because you're a failure as a man. Sit. Beg. But I suppose with this failure they might just have you put down, ol' yellow belly."
"You understand nothing, deviant," he says. There is a shake in his voice. Possibly from whatever Serafina did to him. Possibly vitae withdrawal. Possibly she's getting to him. "You'll understand when you grow up."
"Grow up to pick up a vampire's dry cleaning?" she says. "To clean up his bloody sheets and find him blood dolls. To beg and grovel so you can drink blood, knowing it hurts your Enlightenment. What would the you of 1989 have said if they'd seen you in your current state? And the funny thing is? Even if you survive this, you're screwed. Your masters won't be happy with you. Maybe they'll abandon you. Leave you in the streets. But no. I think they'll just tighten your collar. And you'll lose more and more of yourself to the addiction. Drifting away in a sea of blood. Just what they made you want.
She laughs, and she knows this laugh is a pure, innocent happy laugh. She practised it. It's like a knife in her hands. "How fucked up and empty must your life be that you lower yourself to this level, crawling on your belly for vampire blood? You know, what, at the end of the day, Petrokov? You had so much with the Union. You let it all drift away. Now you're nothing but an empty hollow man. A junkie who has no right to call anyone a Reality Deviant. Enjoy the scraps the haemophages drop from their table to you. You don't even know what trust and loyalty are.
"Petrokov," she says, "the Union doesn't forget your treachery. The Ivory Tower does not forgive a traitor like you. I don't think you grasp the enormity of your mistake."
She puts the link on hold.
"Henriette," she says simply.
...
The solid gold BTR comes roaring out of the hole in the building, heading directly away from the building. Within the back, strapped in tightly, Henriette Langley follows the direct lead from her sensory link to the autocannon on the top of the vehicle. She feels a spike from her suit, and tenses up.
"Relax," she hears Serafina's voice in her ear. "I'm just applying a nootropic which'll help your muscle-synch."
And it does feel good. The movement of the heavy weapon is smoother, and her brain is working faster to calculate the trajectories required.
[Load HV-I rounds,] she sends the thought, as the weapon swivels up. And now the top of the building is visible and she can see the helicopter. Carefully, precisely, she aims for the fuel tank.
John Kessler is a man of action. His favorite route to a target is ideally striding through the burning wreckage of the target, everything around it, and - well, in general he's preferred missions where everything except him was either burning or exploded. Really, it's just a lot simpler to shoot someone when they're busy being on fire and complaining about the shrapnel in their gut, and all that.
Kessler prefers this, of course, because he has traditionally been the prey instead of the hunter. Scavenged hypertech and malfunctioning cyber-arms aren't much good against an Ecstatic-derived cyberdragon that flies a couple hundred feet above and tries to roast the poor stranded exojock below with metal-fire. Through a combination of trial and error, (mostly error) Kessler eventually learned how to deal with such thorny problems, using a variety of simple, common-sense solutions.
The fact that nearly anyone else would characterize his "solution" as "utterly bugfuck insane" does not, in fact, faze the massive cyborg. When your biceps are best measured in tonnage, "insanity" takes on a slightly different meaning for you than it does for others.
Striding over to the eponymous "heavy equipment," Kessler quickly sees something he likes: a few stacked 70s-era "Buzzkill" man-portable ASAT missiles, and a few smaller "Corkscrew" anti-tank missiles. Ignoring the warheads stacked neatly on one side, he grabs the ASAT launcher with one hand while perusing the mundane equipment stores with his other, pausing long enough to pick out two "Corkscrew" rocket motors. Picking up three braces of grenades and several rolls of duct tape, Kessler gets to work. The Virtual Adepts give the massive cyborg a wide berth, casting him strange looks, but Kessler is wearing a wide grin as his makeshift plan takes shape.
The first cyberdragon John had ever seen, R'zzz'thk, had pounced on him the moment he'd re-entered Xanadu for his long exile. The old wyrm had smashed his stores of Technocratic gear, hunted him for weeks, and turned John's life into a living hell. The old bastard had a particular hate for Technocrats due to old grudges, along with a memory as long as his teeth - and his fangs could have doubled as spears for giants. Killing him was still one of the single most satisfying moments in John's life.
Kessler smiles wickedly as he realizes he'll have a chance to repeat the experience.
***
"Agent Kessler," Jamelia barks, already wishing she had more painkillers, "what the hell do you think you're doing?"
John looks down at his feet. Well, more accurately, he looks at the two anti-tank rocket motors strapped to his boots. "It's...a bit of a story, ma'am."
Jamelia crosses her arms. "Give me the abridged version, then."
John looks up the darkened elevator shaft. He's already thrown up a grenade or two, plus a head (don't ask) to trigger the more obvious explosives and other traps, but he knows just how dangerous a Construct's transportation corridors like these can be. Going up an elevator shaft in an enemy Construct was suicide. Everyone knew that.
What they didn't know was exactly how much mayhem a sufficiently motivated person could cause with a few tools.
Kessler glances at the rocket resting on its fins on top of the broken elevator car, a de-extremitied human torso implausibly stuck on top of it. "Doin' a little remodeling, ma'am. Might want to step back for this part, by the way," he says, and Jamelia wisely ducks away from the elevator shaft. Kessler steps back behind cover, slams the emergency doors closed, and triggers the rocket ignition.
The motor ignites with a thunderous roar, and Kessler's augmented vision tracks the infrared hotspot as it shoots up the floors, springing buried traps along the way. Monofilament wires spring out and buried Claymores detonate as the biological material of the torso and its still-beating heart triggers a reaction, but there's far too much momentum built up to stop the rocket's payload. The package is burned, sliced, and diced, but its remains continue to fly upwards...right until the missile warhead detonates.
The explosion is thunderous in the cramped space, and the shockwave triggers or destroys traps up and down the elevator shaft. Laser grids fire before sputtering out, gun turrets search blindly using scorched optics, and buried explosives are unearthed by the pressure wave. The force is constricted in the tiny space, with nowhere to go but...up. Masonry is torn and sundered under the force of the explosion, and the only thing standing between them and daylight is the reinforced steel of a blast shield capping the building.
Then again, Kessler has yet to find an immovable object that could stand up to an unstoppable force. And given that he's holding an augmented infantry railgun, recently looted from the underground stores, he figures that he just might have enough force to do the job.
He braces, aims, steadies the weapon...and for a moment, his world disappears in blinding white. It takes almost a full second for his augmented eyes to adjust, until his normal red-shaded world reappears again. Daylight gleams as the blast shield blows off in a blizzard of torn masonry and flame, and Kessler glances at the gigantic weapon which did the deed.
I could really get used to this thing, he thinks.
Sliding the gigantic railgun over to Jamelia, Kessler gives a wide grin to Agent Belltower, who's looking almost - but not quite - surprised at this turn of events. Stepping out into the bright elevator shaft, he taps his rocket-clad boots together, activating the holosuit and grabbing R'zzz'thk's massive fang from inside his trenchcoat. "Goin' up, ma'am," he announces, and the two rocket motors fire.
The large rockets are enough - barely - to lift his bulk off the ground, and Kessler holds his breath as the cramped compartment fills with toxic fumes. He races past broken, deactivated, or re-setting traps, passing unscathed by weapons that should have killed him a dozen times over. He rockets up to the sixth floor and then-
And then he realizes they've sealed the entire elevator shaft with Stickyfoam. Which is slightly inconvenient, since being stuck in the middle of the elevator shaft is just slightly contrary to his intent of getting to the roof very quickly. He slowly moves his limbs through the hyper-adhesive matrix, looking for a counter-spray applicator in his armored coat. He doesn't think he'll have a problem freeing himself, but-
"Hey, Director, this is Kessler. I'm in a bit of a sticky situation with the elevator shaft." He subvocalizes, so he doesn't have to open his mouth and swallow the probably-toxic glop. At least the substance is protecting him from enemy fire, he thinks.
"Can you get to the hostile evac chopper?" Belltower asks.
"No go. It'll take a while for me to get out of this." Kessler says.
***
"Ivan", Jamelia says over the phone. "Petrokov. Everything you have on him. Hypercram me."
The noise of the phone is all too characteristic and sounds a bit like an old dialup modem cross-bred with a record played backwards. Jamelia knows she's going to have a migraine after this, but she needs it. The stream of information breaches her consciousness, already integrated and analyzed.
Jakob Petrokov, DoB 1962.12.21, recruited from associates of Euthanatos death-cult, successfully Reprocessed...
Prideful. Arrogant. Self-justifying. Blames the Union for abandoning him.
"Get me a link to the command center," she tells the Virtual Adepts. "Voice only. I'm going to talk to the bastard in charge."
Jamelia swallows. She takes and holds a breath, calming herself down. She needs to protect her mind against any tricks he'll use against her. She's ready for the use of any memetic catchphrases or white-noise words.
"Director Petrokov," she says, down the broadcast frequency. "It's too late for you."
"Too late?" The man's words come back after a pause, his voice pained. "I expected better from a 'hero of the Masses'. Something pithier. Some bragging about your wrong-headed selfishness."
"Says the vampire's tool who answers to ENEs," Jamelia says, her voice cold.
"I protect my interests," Director Petrokov says. "You? You're a Reality Deviant. A woman who works for the losing side. A bunch of pathetic rebels against a society which crushes you underfoot. You're me, back in the sixties."
"The sixties?" Jamelia permits herself to smile. "That's funny. I didn't think dogs like you lived that long."
"Even if you escape, you'll be hunted down. I'll see to it. All of society will hunt you down. You're an outcast. A loner. A loser," the Director says.
She can hear spittle against the microphone. "Keep talking," Jamelia says. "Each word lets me hear how weak you are. How you're a pathetic junkie strung out on vampire blood. How you've let the man you once were down. You're trying to kill me, and you're not doing a very good job of it. Your masters are going to be very disappointed in you, boy."
"You'll make a mistake, just like your friends did," he retorts.
"No, you're the one who's messed up. Maybe your masters should take away your dog biscuits for a while," Jamelia says. She's having a little bit too much fun with this, she has to confess. There's just something... thrilling about tearing apart a blood addict. "That'll help you learn, won't it? They're going to have to discipline you as a pet, because you're a failure as a man. Sit. Beg. But I suppose with this failure they might just have you put down, ol' yellow belly."
"You understand nothing, deviant," he says. There is a shake in his voice. Possibly from whatever Serafina did to him. Possibly vitae withdrawal. Possibly she's getting to him. "You'll understand when you grow up."
"Grow up to pick up a vampire's dry cleaning?" she says. "To clean up his bloody sheets and find him blood dolls. To beg and grovel so you can drink blood, knowing it hurts your Enlightenment. What would the you of 1989 have said if they'd seen you in your current state? And the funny thing is? Even if you survive this, you're screwed. Your masters won't be happy with you. Maybe they'll abandon you. Leave you in the streets. But no. I think they'll just tighten your collar. And you'll lose more and more of yourself to the addiction. Drifting away in a sea of blood. Just what they made you want.
She laughs, and she knows this laugh is a pure, innocent happy laugh. She practiced it. It's like a knife in her hands. "How fucked up and empty must your life be that you lower yourself to this level, crawling on your belly for vampire blood? You know, what, at the end of the day, Petrokov? You had so much with the Union. You let it all drift away. Now you're nothing but an empty hollow man. A junkie who has no right to call anyone a Reality Deviant. Enjoy the scraps the hemophages drop from their table to you. You don't even know what trust and loyalty are.
"Petrokov," she says, "the Union doesn't forget your treachery. The Ivory Tower does not forgive a traitor like you. I don't think you grasp the enormity of your mistake."
She puts the link on hold.
"Henriette," she says simply.
***
The solid gold BTR comes roaring out of the hole in the building, heading directly away from the building. Within the back, strapped in tightly, Henriette Langley follows the direct lead from her sensory link to the autocannon on the top of the vehicle. She feels a spike from her suit, and tenses up.
"Relax," she hears Serafina's voice in her ear. "I'm just applying a nootropic. It'll help your muscle-synch."
And it does feel good. The movement of the heavy weapon is smoother, and her brain is working faster to calculate the trajectories required.
[Load HV-I rounds,] she sends the thought, as the weapon swivels up. And now the top of the building is visible and she can see the helicopter. Carefully, precisely, she aims for the fuel tank.
Henriette fires.
She sees the helicopter spark as its light armor is penetrated by hypervelocity incendiaries, its pilot quickly attempt a takeoff. It's no good. She keeps tracking it as it wobbles off the helipad, feels the 30mm autocannon put round after round into the smoking vehicle as it ascends and then comes apart. Henriette smiles to herself about the inferiority of NWO engineering. Had that been a proper Iteration X Advanced Rotorcraft, it'd have laughed off a pathetic Russian 30mm, even with those HV rounds, what with its heavy nanocomposite plating and primium chassis. Clearly, the reason the NWO spent so much of their time avoiding fair fights was because they couldn't design a weapon that could win them a fair fight.
She immediately sets on to figuring out custom firmware for the HITMarks Serafina's busy activating to enable their more dangerous capabilities when they're used to retake Molotek. Henriette is so happy about how useful she's been and so busy coding that she doesn't notice the shadowy active camouflaged figure chasing her out of the garage until he lands on the Syndicate limousine with a harsh thump.
***
Los Angeles, California
Oppenheimer Building
Ten Minutes Ago
Donald is used to night shifts, but not so much when it isn't on his own terms. Belltower gave him a very quick call about getting Paladin Security to take over security for the next few days because she's deploying the Construct's security forces to Moscow, and told him to get everything done.
You'd think she'd have planned things better, being an expert NWO spook, but Donald supposes if the NWO was good at long-term planning, they wouldn't need guys like him to run their budgets. He's in his comfy corner office, at least, and the scenery isn't hurting. By which he means Rose in an evening gown looking at him in a concerned fashion.
"I hope Director Belltower is all right..." she says.
"She is, because she didn't sound particularly worried. I'm sure she just needs all the hands for temporary security and things are extremely boring in Russia or something." Of course, Donald considers, Director Belltower is the kind of woman who wouldn't sound particularly worried if she was calling to tell you that she needed assistance because a grizzly bear was gnawing on her severed arm and she was attempting to apply a tourniquet to the wound with her teeth. And Rose knows that.
"Are you sure, Donald?"
"I trust her judgment enough that I'm pretty sure she'll come back intact. Intact enough." Donald says. "I'm going to need your help for this."
"Oh?" Rose asks. "Anything!"
"I know you've been cramming economics texts and attempting to learn more about Primal Utility Theory. How's that been going?" Donald asks. He navigates to the Paladin Security website, logs in as a Hyperion VIP Member, gives them a message. He waits for the email that will inevitably come.
"Okay, I think." Rose answers meekly.
"I'm going to need your help recording a message for all our men and women in security. Just tell them that you want them to do their best, and you know that it's unusual for them to get deployed in-field as an offensive force and that they didn't sign up for this, but Ja- Director Belltower clearly has good reason for it and they'll all be coming home safe."
Rose nods. "I'll say it in front of a mirror and you can edit it? I've got optical feeds in my eyes."
"That'll work. Just make it heartfelt and you'll be fine."
***
Moscow, Russia
Molotek Basement
"All right." Pink Mohawk says. "Your teleporter is rewired. I trust you aren't going to kill us in a double-cross."
"If we were, I wouldn't be allowing you to stand behind us." Jamelia says evenly. "All right. Activating."
A rippling, hazy portal to the sister unit in her own Construct appears. She can hear Rose's voice in snippets. "-you might not have signed up for this, but a lot of people are depending on you. Think of everyone in Russia, there are people just like your friends, just like your family, there. All of them are dependent on your success. Just do your best! Everyone believes in you-" Jamelia sighs. Probably more of Donald's work, but it certainly is effective propaganda.
The HITMarks go in first, wearing tactical gear even though it's strictly speaking unnecessary, their heavy epidermal armoring, primium endoskeletons, and thick artificial musculature providing more protection than any kevlar vests would. Behind them are soldiers in the wispy carbon-black of exoskeletons, each one of them armed with heavy high-tech weapons. Medium-caliber machine guns, multiple grenade launchers, payload rifles loading from extended magazines.
Fairly common NWO equipment for more overt operations. They look at Pink Mohawk and the Virtual Adept cyborg suspiciously. "Don't move!"
"They're with us." Jamelia says, and like that, they listen. Donald's clearly motivated them, cleared their heads somehow. She wonders exactly what kind of hyperpsychology he knows and exactly how he did it. She suspects Rose's little speech has something to do with the whole affair.
Good news: You've just killed a buttload of Infernalists.
Bad news: Henriette and Serafina are under threat of playing Breaching Charge And Knife Versus Limousine (spoilers: Limousine generally does not win) and Kessler is stuck in the middle of an elevator shaft with a lot of sticky glop.
Your NWO soldiers have been enhanced by Primal Utility/Time to have reduced multiple action penalties, extra dice on their combat rolls, and also deal/soak aggravated damage. How does a pretty face giving a speech make them SO HARDCORE they can soak aggravated damage? ECONOMICS.
Be Jamelia:
[ ] (1.2x) Move up, hit the guard armory, and rescue Kessler.
[ ] (1.5x) Jamelia can do remote driving too. Get (some people) into the Paladin and rescue Henriette and Serafina from the tale of a crazy guy who brings knives to gunfights.
[ ] Ignore both of them and push to central command. Kessler's got an internal oxygen supply and integrated rebreather, Henriette and Serafina can take care of themselves.
Be Henriette/Serafina:
Mr. Commando With An Exoskel is, in fact, literally blinding on the threat tracker, he's got that many procedures up. Serafina can guess that one of the procedures is a very high-power (and vulgar now that you're out of the garage) Life/Mind effect which includes self-healing and extremely boosted strength, and Henriette is guessing another one is a hugely potent Forces effect to dodge bullets and move super fast. He is running at least 4 separate effects. Good news-it means he's at +2 difficulty for any other Procedure rolls.
[ ] (3.0x) Oh god oh god commando on the roof killitkillitkillitkillit
[ ] (0.5x) Ignore the angry guy on the roof trying to carve his way in and probably take you hostage and send you off to be mind-raped by hemophages and help Jamelia and co. with enhancing those HITMarks.
[ ] Write-in
Willpower: 6/7 (regained 1 due to her Virtue)
Prime Energy: 1/5
Health Levels: -0/-0/-1/-1/-1/-2/-2/-4/Incapacitated/Dying
Very High Pain Tolerance (reduces all wound penalties by 2).
Current Injuries: Cracked Rib, Concussion (3 Lethal HLs). Wound Penalty: -0
Current Effects:
Enhanced Combat Training: + [1] automatic success to attack rolls, +1 to DVs
Paradox: 1
Soak: 8B/7L/0A (6B/6L from armor, 0/4 Armor HLs)
Dodge DV: 9/11 (+1 Dexterity from Alanson)
Shockwave Codes: 0/1
INCAPACITATED
Willpower: 10/10
Prime Energy: 5/5
Health Levels: -0 x 12/-1 x 5/-2 x 5/-4 x 4/Incapacitated/Dying
Current Injuries: Severe Epidermal Damage (10 Aggravated Health Levels)
Current Effects:
Stabilizers: +2 Dexterity for the purposes of aiming or fine manipulation Heavy Primium Endoskeleton: +3 Countermagic Liefeld Coat: Arsenal 5, +4B/4L soak Targeting Cybereyes: [1] automatic success to Firearms or Gunnery attacks
Soak: 15B/15L/5A (9B/9L from armor)
Dodge DV: 5/6 (Immobilized)
Willpower: 8/8 (spent 1, regained 2 due to his Vice, yes, he was showing off to impress the ladies)
Prime Energy: 5/5
Health Levels: -0/-0/-0/-0/-1/-1/-1/-2/-2/-2/-4/-4/Incapacitated/Dying.
Regenerates 1 Bashing/Lethal HL a round (Bionanotech integration)
Heals Aggravated damage at normal speed.
Current Injuries: None
Current Effects: (+1 difficulty to subsequent Procedures)
Mindshield: +5 Mind Shield Fast-Bayesian Pattern Matching: Time 2/DSci 1/Forces 1/Life 1/Mind 1 precognition
Paradox: 4
Special Abilities:
Bionanotech Integration: Immune to all mundane diseases and poisons, does not age.
Hyperoxygenated Blood: 5/6 charges. Usable for any of the below effects.
Reroll a failed or botched Stamina roll
Add an automatic success to a single roll
Gain an extra action
Heal 2 health levels of damage
Soak: 11B/11L/3A (8B/8L from armor)
Dodge DV: 11/14
UNDER CRITICAL LETHAL THREAT
Willpower: 7/7
Prime Energy: 5/5
Current Effects:
HITMark V Targeting Software Rewrite: +[2] to HITMark V firearms rolls
Paradox: 2 (2 permanent)
UNDER CRITICAL LETHAL THREAT
Willpower: 5/6
Prime Energy: 2/4
Current Effects:
I told you guys that men with hard abs and long shafts didn't mix well. Sometimes they explode under pressure into a spray of sticky fluid
He had an okay chance to succeed but got cockblocked by Matter/Forces effects. Remember that in a Construct just about everything is a potential effect. They can start, like, self-destructing vending machines as bombs to get you.
Good news: You've just killed a buttload of Infernalists.
Bad news: Henriette and Serafina are under threat of playing Breaching Charge And Knife Versus Limousine (spoilers: Limousine generally does not win) and Kessler is stuck in the middle of an elevator shaft with a lot of sticky glop.
