Update LXXII: The Mandated Spy Movie Car Chase Missing From The Previous Interlude
JB LXXII: The Mandated Spy Movie Car Chase Missing From The Previous Interlude
Jamelia takes one look at the car, and reflexively flicks on a white noise generator in her pocket. "Langley," she says. "I am afraid we are going to have to delay."
Henriette blinks. "But why?" she says, trying not to pout and very nearly succeeding.
Jamelia could point out that she looks a bit like Rose when she does that. Except that Rose's lips are fuller and thus better at pouting. Though, now that she notes it, Jamelia observes that Henriette looks healthier than she did, even during Moscow. She looks like she's put on a bit of the weight she must have lost when she was in psychiatric care, and her face isn't quite as gaunt. She must have been eating better when Jamelia was in the medical coma.
That, or Serafina's been helping her out. Possibly by reminding her to eat.
"Security inspection of new hardware," Jamelia says.
Henriette sighs, remembers that this might be considered insubordinate and flinches slightly, and then takes a deep breath. "Director," she says formally, "I have already done that. I swept it for bugs, ports in, remote access... everything like that, made damn sure there weren't any remote overrides which I couldn't over-override from inside the vehicle and leave off by default - because obviously I'm going to want to remote-pilot it myself at some point - and I changed all the passwords."
"All of them?" Jamelia asks.
"All of them," Henriette confirms. "Even the admin passwords which most people forget." She smiles in a rather smug way. "We have to protect ourselves against the threat of the Virtual Adepts, after all. Especially since one of the predecessor test models of this design was compromised by them. And stolen. We don't want that to happen." She runs a hand over the surface of her new vehicle. "It's beautiful," she very nearly coos. "Corporal Hughes is so jealous, and while Kessler doesn't approve of the design, he says it's 'okay'."
"He doesn't approve?"
Henriette rolls her eye. "Too sleek, too overengineered, too finicky according to him. And when I asked him what he'd prefer... well, honestly! He wanted something which sounded a lot like a DeLorean with some of those temperamental old GL23 laser grids on it and smoke launchers and plasma discharge arcs. The kind you had to wear those stupid old command helmets which looked like motorcycle helmets to use." She shakes her head. "I really don't know how you went around in a vehicle which made you look like you were in a Daft Punk music video without feeling like a fool."
Jamelia checks her watch. "I didn't," she says. "I was in Afghanistan for a lot of the eighties. The most advanced technology I got to use for a lot of that time was an AK(IX)-147."
The young woman stares at her blankly, and then blinks as she grabs the data on it. "An AK-variant which didn't even have a built in laser?" she says in mild disbelief. "But the eighties were the Laser Decade!"
"Lasers are temperamental, prone to overheating, break easily if they get dropped or anything gets in their lenses, and their batteries weighed a tonne. Bullets are better," Jamelia says. "Especially in Afghanistan. 5.45×39mm always works. The Russians were using them too. I've never been too sold on laser tech."
Shaking her head, Henriette climbs in. "With all due respect, I'm fairly sure that's just you," she points out, "because most NWO agents love their laser watches. And laser mirrorshades. And laser suit buttons. And overcharged laser sights."
"Most things die to fast moving lumps of metal. Or even quite slow-moving lumps of metal, if you know where to cut."
"Only most things?" Henriette asks, raising an eyebrow as the loudspeakers in the engine start mimicking the sound of an internal combustion engine starting up.
"Well, sometimes you need your fire support team of Void Engineers to break out the phasic destabilizers set to 'Matter Rip'," Jamelia admits. "But lasers wouldn't have helped against that RD nuclear powered war machine either. Not once the EDE had assumed direct control. And in the end, good old explosives did the job."
"You know," Henriette says as she pulls away, "I'm pretty sure you're talking about that story you still owe me about giant Etherite EDE robots and South Africa."
"All right then. We have time." Jamelia concedes. "It was about 30 years ago..." she starts to tell Henriette about South Africa and her first mission with HELMETSHRIKE.
"…which let me get a clear shot at his head." She finishes, several minutes later. "End of him, end of mission, end of story. Let that be a lesson to you, Pilot; all the hyperdense exotic-alloy armor and energy shielding in the world does you little good if you forget that the maintenance techs for your giant robot have to know the admin access codes for most of its hardware. Basic social engineering beats multiple tons of hardware defenses."
Henriette turns her head, giving Jamelia a sidelong glance from her ocular prosthetic. The Interceptor's subsapient AI keeps it perfectly centered in its lane as the car shoots west along the M4 motorway at a mere 150 kph. Henriette isn't worrying about radar speed detectors-even with its cloaking device disabled, the VGV-3's skin is radar-absorbent enough that military-grade radars would see nothing, let alone police ones. Henriette's technology-augmented stare slides off the serene confidence born of Jamelia's implausible long-ago victory.
Henriette sighs and returned her gaze to the road. "If you were anyone else, Director, I'd say you were making half that story up. But after the last month, I think you're possibly underplaying the story. And I fought giant robot beasts from space in the middle of Red Square with tac-nuke support fire." She shakes her head. "And from what you've said, that might just be Act II in this play? Alright…I'm…not the best for Convention politics, but some of the same names you mentioned as ItX combat players in South Africa are still around. Yu-Ching Tsai was one of my trainers in Heavy Weapons Support Fire a long time ago, for one. Part of that is Senior Comptroller Lovelace's influence. Since she's shifted emphasis to non-military technologies, a lot of Iterators who'd focused heavily on the military side have had their careers slow down. She promotes more of the other side…that's cost her support too. "
The young Interator pauses for a second. "Kessler said he was going to look up some of his old buddies from K65. The ones that are still alive remember him fondly. And he said he used to work with General Starborn. Would he listen to a call from our Construct?"
Jamelia ponders the question for a moment. "He seemed at least sympathetic in the Tribunal, and old combat buddy bonds can be incredibly strong ties to work with, yes. But I'll talk to him myself about that. Let's go over your contacts right now. Your father was more linked in with the combat enhanciles track than your mother, correct?"
Henriette nods. "I….really wish I knew more directly. But both my parents were well known enough that I met a lot of people they knew and worked with. Mom was…more than a few of my instructors admitted they were pretty envious of my Dad for catching her heart. She was famous, beautiful, and a top-rank Enlightened Scientist. He was a pretty good combat augment researcher, but Mom was…cutting edge. That's why she earned that high-level slot on Autocthonia. She knew people all over the more esoteric research side. Some of her stuff is still in use. I saw some of her code in the DSS-03 updates….Anyway, I can think of a few people to ask for the Iteration X 'word on the street'. Here, I'm tossing a listing and contact info to your phone from my ADEI."
Jamelia's phone beeps quietly as it accepted the file. Belltower flicked through it, noting a few names she'd heard of via other lanes. Between the former members of Kessler's circle and assault team that were now leadership and Langley's family friends, they'd at least have a good, broad net of people to get in touch with. "Henriette, we…" she pauses. "Why is that moving truck shifting into our lane?"
Henriette turns the steering wheel and shifts smoothly out of her imminent collision course just as the distinctive sound of minigun fire echoes.
The VGV-3's AI belatedly notes the sound. "Warning. Threat detected. Combat protocols active." On the windshield, the moving truck is surrounded by a red aura, and an outline of a hunched wolf-man carrying a large multibarreled machine gun shows up.
"That's a damn minigun!" Henriette shouts as the werewolf tracks the minigun towards them, firing through the thin sheet metal of the back of his (her?) truck. Divots of shattered asphalt and dirt fountain upwards around the Iteration X vehicle.
"Impact warning. Negligible damage." A vicious roar splits the night, answered by several more. "Concealed threats detected. Recommend defensive action."
Jamelia takes a look at the sensor display being projected onto the windshield, considers what happens. It's an open secret that Hereford and London are lousy with Technocrats, and most werewolves consider the Technocracy to be in league with things they hate, like Pentex, corruption and decay, industrialization, advanced technology, running water, and sliced bread. Some of them must have gotten cocky to set up an ambush like this.
Use their Reality Deviant tricks to find a few lone Technocrats and then murder them with superior numbers and instantaneous firepower. Don't give them time to use the Union's infrastructure or its massive qualitative superiority.
She wonders if it was a setup by Control, but she banishes the thought after a moment. Paranoia is just as crippling as naivete, and Jamelia has had plenty of experience exploiting the human tendency to ascribe patterns to completely random noise to make herself look much more powerful and influential than she really is.
"Werewolf! Multiple werewolves!" Henriette hisses. "Why does the werewolf have a goddamn minigun?" A 20-year-old pickup truck leaps out and lands onto the highway, a nearly three-meter tall ball of fur, murder, and rocket launchers in the back, with another hanging on the side with one clawed hand, wildly firing a shotgun with the other. Riding shotgun is a human, with another one of those shotguns. The Interceptor's threat analysis heuristics put significantly higher priority on the weapons than would be normal-Jamelia considers it for a moment, and rejects the hypothesis of 'combat software bug'.
Another car, with a massive werewolf wielding a hunting rifle hanging onto the roof, almost comical in the hands of something so large, does the same. The rifle fires, and a bolt of lightning lances down from the clear sky and narrowly misses the Interceptor. Somehow, all three vehicles are keeping up with the Interceptor, and despite counting at least ten shots from the shotgun, the Crinos wielding it has not yet reloaded. "This is bullshit! How the fuck do werewolves in gun-shy Britain have rocket launchers?" Henriette snarls. A pillar of lightning strikes down from the clear sky and narrowly misses her car. "This is even more bullshit!"
"They're predators, not endurance fighters." Jamelia says, combing her memory for lessons she's learned. "Accelerate out of the killzone and avoid them. Take out anyone who manages to keep the pursuit." She opens the glove compartment and keys the QE comm unit built into the vehicle.
"This is Operative Jamelia Belltower calling all nearby Technocratic forces. I am with Pilot Henriette Langley at this moment. We have been ambushed by shapeshifter assault. My vehicle has been engaged by multiple shapeshifter hostiles with anti-vehicle weaponry. Requesting assistance."
A rocket skids off of the hardened skin of the Interceptor and explodes behind them. "Returning fire!" Henriette yells, as she puts the Iteration X vehicle into a controlled spin. With the Interceptor racing backwards across a highway at almost 200 kilometers an hour and still accelerating, Henriette is in her element. The VGV-3, like all modern Iteration X combat vehicles, has move-by-thought controls, and her ADEI interfaces seamlessly. She brings up a request for weapons systems and is rewarded with an extensive menu.
VGV-3 Interceptor Standardized Weapons Loadout
The driver, a ugly giant of a woman, swerves and manages to evade the first pair of railgun rounds neatly, but the second two explode and pepper the tires of the chase truck with shrapnel. One of the final ones scores a hole through the engine block that should by all accounts have caused the truck to stop, possibly in small pieces of undifferentiated shrapnel as civilian transportation tends to do when exposed to anti-tank weapons, but it still keeps chugging, even if fire bursts out of the hole and the passenger of the driver, who had been aiming another one of those suspicious Reality Deviant shotguns, is now a corpse missing most of its torso. 12.7mm fire patters off the armored transformable supercar like rain as the first attacker fires again, and a spiderweb of cracks appears in the windshield for a moment, before it heals over and Jamelia can't notice it anymore.
Henriette stops the spin so that the Interceptor is pointing in the same direction it's traveling, and grins slightly maniacally. "Well, I guess it would be too much to ask for Reality Deviant cars to blow up like regular ones."
A voice comes onto the speakers. It's crisp, with none of the signs of jamming or distortion Jamelia considers to be normal for combat communications. One of the advantages of being inside a supercomputer with a top speed measured in fractional Mach numbers and a maneuverability best described in Gs, Jamelia supposes. "Operative Belltower. This is Hereford, responding to your distress call. We confirm that you have been engaged with multiple hostiles. Looks like the furry brigade is out there in earnest and out for blood. There is a stealthed ARC on patrol two minutes from engagement in your position. Given the specifications of your vehicle your chances of survival until then are very high."
"Understood." Jamelia says. "Henriette, I thought when you said test drive, there would be more driving and less combat testing."
"This isn't my fault. For the record, I didn't plan to run this high-tech superweapon into shapeshifters just to see how it stacked up." Henriette says.
"I know." Jamelia says reasonably. She's already concluded that it was mostly bad luck-although the Interceptor was a dead Technocrats-are-inside giveaway. "You know, if they're taking suggestions for features, I think you're going to want to be able to transform it into some beaten up piece-of-crap car to better blend in." After all, if it was just a Paladin this would probably be very difficult. As it is, it's just very inconvenient.
"I'll-" Henriette starts, and stops as she swerves violently to avoid another incoming rocket "-consider telling them that."
________________________________________________________________________________________
About three veteran, intelligent werewolves with very heavy armaments, a couple of Kinfolk with talisman lightning guns, and a horde of feral werewolves they have on the enemy side which they haven't deployed yet but you can be sure are in some form of ambush. On your side, you have Jamelia, Henriette (who has Enlightenment 5 now!), and a car that James Bond would betray England to get. Have fun.
Henriette and Jamelia have full Willpower and Prime Energy. I will probably edit in their abbreviated status when I get a chance to tomorrow.
The Mandatory Car Chase:
[ ] (1.4x) Be aggressive. Take them down.
[ ] Write-in
Jamelia takes one look at the car, and reflexively flicks on a white noise generator in her pocket. "Langley," she says. "I am afraid we are going to have to delay."
Henriette blinks. "But why?" she says, trying not to pout and very nearly succeeding.
Jamelia could point out that she looks a bit like Rose when she does that. Except that Rose's lips are fuller and thus better at pouting. Though, now that she notes it, Jamelia observes that Henriette looks healthier than she did, even during Moscow. She looks like she's put on a bit of the weight she must have lost when she was in psychiatric care, and her face isn't quite as gaunt. She must have been eating better when Jamelia was in the medical coma.
That, or Serafina's been helping her out. Possibly by reminding her to eat.
"Security inspection of new hardware," Jamelia says.
Henriette sighs, remembers that this might be considered insubordinate and flinches slightly, and then takes a deep breath. "Director," she says formally, "I have already done that. I swept it for bugs, ports in, remote access... everything like that, made damn sure there weren't any remote overrides which I couldn't over-override from inside the vehicle and leave off by default - because obviously I'm going to want to remote-pilot it myself at some point - and I changed all the passwords."
"All of them?" Jamelia asks.
"All of them," Henriette confirms. "Even the admin passwords which most people forget." She smiles in a rather smug way. "We have to protect ourselves against the threat of the Virtual Adepts, after all. Especially since one of the predecessor test models of this design was compromised by them. And stolen. We don't want that to happen." She runs a hand over the surface of her new vehicle. "It's beautiful," she very nearly coos. "Corporal Hughes is so jealous, and while Kessler doesn't approve of the design, he says it's 'okay'."
"He doesn't approve?"
Henriette rolls her eye. "Too sleek, too overengineered, too finicky according to him. And when I asked him what he'd prefer... well, honestly! He wanted something which sounded a lot like a DeLorean with some of those temperamental old GL23 laser grids on it and smoke launchers and plasma discharge arcs. The kind you had to wear those stupid old command helmets which looked like motorcycle helmets to use." She shakes her head. "I really don't know how you went around in a vehicle which made you look like you were in a Daft Punk music video without feeling like a fool."
Jamelia checks her watch. "I didn't," she says. "I was in Afghanistan for a lot of the eighties. The most advanced technology I got to use for a lot of that time was an AK(IX)-147."
The young woman stares at her blankly, and then blinks as she grabs the data on it. "An AK-variant which didn't even have a built in laser?" she says in mild disbelief. "But the eighties were the Laser Decade!"
"Lasers are temperamental, prone to overheating, break easily if they get dropped or anything gets in their lenses, and their batteries weighed a tonne. Bullets are better," Jamelia says. "Especially in Afghanistan. 5.45×39mm always works. The Russians were using them too. I've never been too sold on laser tech."
Shaking her head, Henriette climbs in. "With all due respect, I'm fairly sure that's just you," she points out, "because most NWO agents love their laser watches. And laser mirrorshades. And laser suit buttons. And overcharged laser sights."
"Most things die to fast moving lumps of metal. Or even quite slow-moving lumps of metal, if you know where to cut."
"Only most things?" Henriette asks, raising an eyebrow as the loudspeakers in the engine start mimicking the sound of an internal combustion engine starting up.
"Well, sometimes you need your fire support team of Void Engineers to break out the phasic destabilizers set to 'Matter Rip'," Jamelia admits. "But lasers wouldn't have helped against that RD nuclear powered war machine either. Not once the EDE had assumed direct control. And in the end, good old explosives did the job."
"You know," Henriette says as she pulls away, "I'm pretty sure you're talking about that story you still owe me about giant Etherite EDE robots and South Africa."
"All right then. We have time." Jamelia concedes. "It was about 30 years ago..." she starts to tell Henriette about South Africa and her first mission with HELMETSHRIKE.
"…which let me get a clear shot at his head." She finishes, several minutes later. "End of him, end of mission, end of story. Let that be a lesson to you, Pilot; all the hyperdense exotic-alloy armor and energy shielding in the world does you little good if you forget that the maintenance techs for your giant robot have to know the admin access codes for most of its hardware. Basic social engineering beats multiple tons of hardware defenses."
Henriette turns her head, giving Jamelia a sidelong glance from her ocular prosthetic. The Interceptor's subsapient AI keeps it perfectly centered in its lane as the car shoots west along the M4 motorway at a mere 150 kph. Henriette isn't worrying about radar speed detectors-even with its cloaking device disabled, the VGV-3's skin is radar-absorbent enough that military-grade radars would see nothing, let alone police ones. Henriette's technology-augmented stare slides off the serene confidence born of Jamelia's implausible long-ago victory.
Henriette sighs and returned her gaze to the road. "If you were anyone else, Director, I'd say you were making half that story up. But after the last month, I think you're possibly underplaying the story. And I fought giant robot beasts from space in the middle of Red Square with tac-nuke support fire." She shakes her head. "And from what you've said, that might just be Act II in this play? Alright…I'm…not the best for Convention politics, but some of the same names you mentioned as ItX combat players in South Africa are still around. Yu-Ching Tsai was one of my trainers in Heavy Weapons Support Fire a long time ago, for one. Part of that is Senior Comptroller Lovelace's influence. Since she's shifted emphasis to non-military technologies, a lot of Iterators who'd focused heavily on the military side have had their careers slow down. She promotes more of the other side…that's cost her support too. "
The young Interator pauses for a second. "Kessler said he was going to look up some of his old buddies from K65. The ones that are still alive remember him fondly. And he said he used to work with General Starborn. Would he listen to a call from our Construct?"
Jamelia ponders the question for a moment. "He seemed at least sympathetic in the Tribunal, and old combat buddy bonds can be incredibly strong ties to work with, yes. But I'll talk to him myself about that. Let's go over your contacts right now. Your father was more linked in with the combat enhanciles track than your mother, correct?"
Henriette nods. "I….really wish I knew more directly. But both my parents were well known enough that I met a lot of people they knew and worked with. Mom was…more than a few of my instructors admitted they were pretty envious of my Dad for catching her heart. She was famous, beautiful, and a top-rank Enlightened Scientist. He was a pretty good combat augment researcher, but Mom was…cutting edge. That's why she earned that high-level slot on Autocthonia. She knew people all over the more esoteric research side. Some of her stuff is still in use. I saw some of her code in the DSS-03 updates….Anyway, I can think of a few people to ask for the Iteration X 'word on the street'. Here, I'm tossing a listing and contact info to your phone from my ADEI."
Jamelia's phone beeps quietly as it accepted the file. Belltower flicked through it, noting a few names she'd heard of via other lanes. Between the former members of Kessler's circle and assault team that were now leadership and Langley's family friends, they'd at least have a good, broad net of people to get in touch with. "Henriette, we…" she pauses. "Why is that moving truck shifting into our lane?"
Henriette turns the steering wheel and shifts smoothly out of her imminent collision course just as the distinctive sound of minigun fire echoes.
The VGV-3's AI belatedly notes the sound. "Warning. Threat detected. Combat protocols active." On the windshield, the moving truck is surrounded by a red aura, and an outline of a hunched wolf-man carrying a large multibarreled machine gun shows up.
"That's a damn minigun!" Henriette shouts as the werewolf tracks the minigun towards them, firing through the thin sheet metal of the back of his (her?) truck. Divots of shattered asphalt and dirt fountain upwards around the Iteration X vehicle.
"Impact warning. Negligible damage." A vicious roar splits the night, answered by several more. "Concealed threats detected. Recommend defensive action."
Jamelia takes a look at the sensor display being projected onto the windshield, considers what happens. It's an open secret that Hereford and London are lousy with Technocrats, and most werewolves consider the Technocracy to be in league with things they hate, like Pentex, corruption and decay, industrialization, advanced technology, running water, and sliced bread. Some of them must have gotten cocky to set up an ambush like this.
Use their Reality Deviant tricks to find a few lone Technocrats and then murder them with superior numbers and instantaneous firepower. Don't give them time to use the Union's infrastructure or its massive qualitative superiority.
She wonders if it was a setup by Control, but she banishes the thought after a moment. Paranoia is just as crippling as naivete, and Jamelia has had plenty of experience exploiting the human tendency to ascribe patterns to completely random noise to make herself look much more powerful and influential than she really is.
"Werewolf! Multiple werewolves!" Henriette hisses. "Why does the werewolf have a goddamn minigun?" A 20-year-old pickup truck leaps out and lands onto the highway, a nearly three-meter tall ball of fur, murder, and rocket launchers in the back, with another hanging on the side with one clawed hand, wildly firing a shotgun with the other. Riding shotgun is a human, with another one of those shotguns. The Interceptor's threat analysis heuristics put significantly higher priority on the weapons than would be normal-Jamelia considers it for a moment, and rejects the hypothesis of 'combat software bug'.
Another car, with a massive werewolf wielding a hunting rifle hanging onto the roof, almost comical in the hands of something so large, does the same. The rifle fires, and a bolt of lightning lances down from the clear sky and narrowly misses the Interceptor. Somehow, all three vehicles are keeping up with the Interceptor, and despite counting at least ten shots from the shotgun, the Crinos wielding it has not yet reloaded. "This is bullshit! How the fuck do werewolves in gun-shy Britain have rocket launchers?" Henriette snarls. A pillar of lightning strikes down from the clear sky and narrowly misses her car. "This is even more bullshit!"
"They're predators, not endurance fighters." Jamelia says, combing her memory for lessons she's learned. "Accelerate out of the killzone and avoid them. Take out anyone who manages to keep the pursuit." She opens the glove compartment and keys the QE comm unit built into the vehicle.
"This is Operative Jamelia Belltower calling all nearby Technocratic forces. I am with Pilot Henriette Langley at this moment. We have been ambushed by shapeshifter assault. My vehicle has been engaged by multiple shapeshifter hostiles with anti-vehicle weaponry. Requesting assistance."
A rocket skids off of the hardened skin of the Interceptor and explodes behind them. "Returning fire!" Henriette yells, as she puts the Iteration X vehicle into a controlled spin. With the Interceptor racing backwards across a highway at almost 200 kilometers an hour and still accelerating, Henriette is in her element. The VGV-3, like all modern Iteration X combat vehicles, has move-by-thought controls, and her ADEI interfaces seamlessly. She brings up a request for weapons systems and is rewarded with an extensive menu.
VGV-3 Interceptor Standardized Weapons Loadout
[L/R IX-52 30MM RAILGUN | IX-45 WALKER SNIPER WEAPONS SYSTEM (TRANSFORM ONLY)]
It's a smorgasbord of weapons options, that only manage to fit into the VGV-3 due to cutting-edge Iteration X hypertechnology. Many of them are experimental and require a light touch. But against a truck, even a truck probably protected with Reality Deviant tricks, she can deal with this using entirely reliable weapons. The VGV-3's nanoengineered wheels give it just the right amount of grip for every situation, and she instinctively relaxes it and throw it into a skid to evade another incoming rocket. Her mind selects the linked railguns and puts three shots from each railgun downrange. Two high-explosive, and one solid slug from each railgun, spaced out in a pattern ideal for maximizing hit probabilities. The first two rounds proximity-fused, the last two dumb DU spikes to deal a killing blow.[GUIDED]
[SOLID SLUG]
[PRIMIUM HYPERCORE]
[EXPLOSIVE]
[CONCEALED INFANTRY PLASMA PROJECTOR][SOLID SLUG]
[PRIMIUM HYPERCORE]
[EXPLOSIVE]
[PULSED]
[SNIPER MODE]
[WIDE-ANGLE]
[GUIDED PLASMOID]
[CONCEALED 7.62MM GPMGS][SNIPER MODE]
[WIDE-ANGLE]
[GUIDED PLASMOID]
[GUIDED]
[HIGH EXPLOSIVE]
[HYPERVELOCITY]
[MUNITIONS DISPENSER SYSTEM SIDE/REAR/VLS][HIGH EXPLOSIVE]
[HYPERVELOCITY]
[CLUSTER ANTIPERSONNEL]
[HIGH EXPLOSIVE DUAL PURPOSE]
[STANDOFF LASER]
[ELECTROMAGNETIC PULSE]
[SMOKE]
[LASER MODE FOR OPTICAL EMITTER CLADDING][HIGH EXPLOSIVE DUAL PURPOSE]
[STANDOFF LASER]
[ELECTROMAGNETIC PULSE]
[SMOKE]
[NONLETHAL ELECTROLASER]
[LETHAL]
[POINT DEFENSE]
[LETHAL]
[POINT DEFENSE]
The driver, a ugly giant of a woman, swerves and manages to evade the first pair of railgun rounds neatly, but the second two explode and pepper the tires of the chase truck with shrapnel. One of the final ones scores a hole through the engine block that should by all accounts have caused the truck to stop, possibly in small pieces of undifferentiated shrapnel as civilian transportation tends to do when exposed to anti-tank weapons, but it still keeps chugging, even if fire bursts out of the hole and the passenger of the driver, who had been aiming another one of those suspicious Reality Deviant shotguns, is now a corpse missing most of its torso. 12.7mm fire patters off the armored transformable supercar like rain as the first attacker fires again, and a spiderweb of cracks appears in the windshield for a moment, before it heals over and Jamelia can't notice it anymore.
Henriette stops the spin so that the Interceptor is pointing in the same direction it's traveling, and grins slightly maniacally. "Well, I guess it would be too much to ask for Reality Deviant cars to blow up like regular ones."
A voice comes onto the speakers. It's crisp, with none of the signs of jamming or distortion Jamelia considers to be normal for combat communications. One of the advantages of being inside a supercomputer with a top speed measured in fractional Mach numbers and a maneuverability best described in Gs, Jamelia supposes. "Operative Belltower. This is Hereford, responding to your distress call. We confirm that you have been engaged with multiple hostiles. Looks like the furry brigade is out there in earnest and out for blood. There is a stealthed ARC on patrol two minutes from engagement in your position. Given the specifications of your vehicle your chances of survival until then are very high."
"Understood." Jamelia says. "Henriette, I thought when you said test drive, there would be more driving and less combat testing."
"This isn't my fault. For the record, I didn't plan to run this high-tech superweapon into shapeshifters just to see how it stacked up." Henriette says.
"I know." Jamelia says reasonably. She's already concluded that it was mostly bad luck-although the Interceptor was a dead Technocrats-are-inside giveaway. "You know, if they're taking suggestions for features, I think you're going to want to be able to transform it into some beaten up piece-of-crap car to better blend in." After all, if it was just a Paladin this would probably be very difficult. As it is, it's just very inconvenient.
"I'll-" Henriette starts, and stops as she swerves violently to avoid another incoming rocket "-consider telling them that."
________________________________________________________________________________________
About three veteran, intelligent werewolves with very heavy armaments, a couple of Kinfolk with talisman lightning guns, and a horde of feral werewolves they have on the enemy side which they haven't deployed yet but you can be sure are in some form of ambush. On your side, you have Jamelia, Henriette (who has Enlightenment 5 now!), and a car that James Bond would betray England to get. Have fun.
Henriette and Jamelia have full Willpower and Prime Energy. I will probably edit in their abbreviated status when I get a chance to tomorrow.
The Mandatory Car Chase:
[ ] (1.4x) Be aggressive. Take them down.
[ ] (-0.2x) Well, it wouldn't be a test drive if you didn't check out all the features, and it's supposed to be an assault walker replacement. Activate combat transformation! (+2 Paradox, enables additional weapons/defenses)
[ ] Just do it with a car.
[ ] Outrun them. Look, they have Reality Deviant bullshit, but you're betting those vehicles can't match yours in speed even if they're making physics their bitch right now.[ ] Just do it with a car.
[ ] (+0.2x) That doesn't mean you can't take some of them out, though. You have the munitions dispenser, make use of it.
[ ] (-0.1x) Use the stealth camouflage system to break contact more easily.
[ ] (0.8x) Hide. Activate stealth camouflage and try to lose them.[ ] (-0.1x) Use the stealth camouflage system to break contact more easily.
[ ] Write-in
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