RP: Die Screaming [Die Screaming] Glass Jaw Pt-II: Good Men Must Die.

According to the “Official report,” Pvt. Vaishnavi Pai gunned down Pvt. Gerald Gunn after a drunken altercation. The whole squad knew it was a lie. They were battle buddies. Gunn was her assistant machine gunner. She’d been working up the courage to ask him to be more. He’d probably known already. Some secrets were hard to keep. Like the truth of that night. They knew the truth, but the officers had already decided to make an example out of Vaishnavi. She didn’t blame any of her mates for not putting their careers or freedom on the line. It’d just ended with them all in tubes. At least she might have had some friendly faces around.

This special mission or whatever it was seemed like a load of shit, but it sure beat manning a machine gun nest on the front chewing through barrels and dumping gods knew how many tracers down range. Sometimes she thought she could still see bright streaks when she blinked. She wasn’t even sure who they were fighting. They’d just decanted her, stuck a SPAID in her hands, slapped her on the ass, and said “Go get ‘em tiger.”

“Blue’s right on both accounts,” she said, as she inspected the gear she’d been given. “We’ve been voluntold to do this.” The new SPAID she’d been given looked newer or at least better cared for. Something a self respecting gunner would carry. She appreciated the optics setup as well, close and long range options. The underslung shotgun seemed a bit excessive, but CQC options were always nice. “I’m pretty sure we’re fucked either way,” she added as she clipped an ammo pouch into position and allined the belt on the feed system. “But a quick death up there beats a slow death down here.” She slammed down the top cover and racked a round into the chamber.

Lupin sat up on one of the nearby containers as the more tech-savvy members of the squad retrieved that Jane, playing around with a ZA .45 he'd found a holster for. With an almost trance-like repetition, bordering on obsessive paranoia, Lupin dropped the pistol's magazine, racked the slide a few times, and re-inserted the magazine - making sure it'd be reliable enough should the sniper need to use it.

Without halting his fidgeting, or even looking at the chameleon-man directly, Lupin opened his mouth. "It seems that way, at least for now, no other leads to follow yet," he spoke rather bluntly, letting out a low sigh as the pistol magazine dropped into his gloved palm yet again, that same repetitive series of metallic clacks and clicks sounding off once more as the pistol was toyed with.

"What about you? what's your angle in all this? I doubt it's coincidence that you've stumbled upon us, as much as you want us to believe that," Lupin queried, his eyes and empty gun now pointing at Rungo's upper abdomen, hammer dropping on an empty chamber with a hollow click before Lupin went back to obsessing over the thing. Hopefully that message came through loud and clear~

Team A

Molotra listened to Lupin's assessment of Rungo idly whilst they continued to gather a mass of scrap parts, the 'tac-tac-tac' of their tank tracks becoming more active and familiar to those within the vast room. It was the most macabre of reasons to be suddenly motivated, but... Well, working on something rather suicidal like this at least gave them a much-needed sense of control in this situation. Going down in a blaze of glory, two middle fingers bared, was somewhat of a Spacer tradition, after all.

"...I don't remember him from the simulations... Heck, he's supposed to be a celebrity and I still have no idea who the twat is." Was the tonkle's assessment of the chameleon, pausing for a moment before the two of them whilst she did some preliminary preparations in cyberspace. "That... Well, that makes me want to believe he's just caught up in this, Wolf boy..."

If he was a spy, keeping him sweet on the group actually made sense. That would make him their only source of answers aside from Locust.

"...What's this thing about you being a prince? D'ya mean that literally, or are you plannin' your own pirate league or something, like Prince Hassan?..."

Unscrewing, examining, unplugging, rotating, assembling, crimping, soldering, jury-rigging... Their hands slowly brought a new machine into existence, an unholy abomination of far too many AI cores crammed onto the card slots of an ancient server motherboard. It was already filling up the entirety of their own backpack, threatening to absorb the extra one that Tobias had left behind, despite his warnings. Long dead heat sinks made that burning dust smell, as the mad apparatus clunked into life and had it's first few failures at booting up.

<Don't try and access this.> A simple message was sent to Toby and Carina. <Consider it... A petri dish... Or like baking cookies... Just... don't burn your fingers, okay?>

Team A
A for Air, because these guys have a bird

Quilly huffed at Locust's casual disregard for her queries. It shouldn't have been that much of a surprise that she'd get ignored again, but even then, Ash would have assumed that perhaps, just maybe, the one person who seemed to have an inkling of what was going on would be different. Bah.

Ringo seemed to have an idea of helping her out anyways. He had a point - they might as well play along until this whole simulation-shit breaks down eventually. Even the best computers shit themselves eventually, organic or not. Oh right, Tobias.


"Yup, that's the plan no matter what. Hope that bot of yours is ready to pack enough accelerants to ignite a city," Quilly mentioned casually as she started identifying and gathering more items. The courier will, in fact, be a target... Then again, that's not a terrible idea if they wanted something to go missing.

A Team - Quilly, Molotra, Tobias, Lupin, Carina.

There was no discernable flinch from the mutant at Lupins bravdo more than both of his compound eyes glancing his way and then every other way in their continual scanning when the weapon was relieved.

He did flinch however at Molotras designation of 'Twat'; His sense of a performer's pride clearly being wounded.

"My stake in this is that my suspicions of your group have been confirmed; There was clearly more to what met the eye and is well beyond the scope of what I had imagined. At first, I had assumed you to be some sort of gang affiliates snuck into the swamp or perhaps this operation to silence some offender of your organization or spring a high-profile prisoner for syndicate indoctrination for their kill teams or a special job."

"Now I simply wish to see the conclusion of this tale and if it is truly as remarkable as I suspect or if it was perhapse all just a shared hysteria episode wherein several delusional convicts well past the last grasp of their sanity latching onto some kind of fabricated tale."

Careful to avoid having his boots run over by Molotras' treads he very obviously appraised the group before settling on Tobias. Either due to his forward nature or his bearing the mutant had clearly assumed him the leader of sorts.

"If this false Erin Zelegar- This Locust as you have called her is going to attempt to assassinate this warden at this briefing and you will indeed counter her actions I am to assume you have an actual plan beyond just showing up in front of hundreds of marines and gunning down a senior non-commissioned officer? If we are to assume this Locust will take the same tact it is likely she will do so after this briefing when most or all the combat-capable marines are deploying or engaged. Will you set an ambush or intervene directly with this seinor officer?"

The B-Team - Caffran, Pai, Clayton.

Easy shook her head slowly at the defeatist attitude of the group. There was a moment when the former star-empire commisar Francis Euphoria was clearly about to start sneering some comeback at them but was silenced with a gesture from the non-com.

"No dying for pointless glory or wasting your lives here, kids." The dry and almost nonplussed statement almost sounded reassuring if it hadn't come out like a pre-recorded synthetic voice message from an ACE with depression.

"Mr.Tillery is right to be cautious; The warden regardless of being a convicted prisoner like the rest of us is still a high-ranking officer and It will not be easy. He has his own command staff and command-company security that he's personally groomed over the years; At least fifteen men total. But they are lightly armed at most and not all centralized. The colonel; The warden will have at most a couple runners and the company medic with him with the latter never staying long with the casualties to come."

"That is at most two, maybe three men to our five and we have full kit and armor. All we need to do is wait for the end of the briefing and for all the other squads to be deploying, then all the four of you need to do is detain anyone with the warden while I take care of the rest. The marines in orbit should be deployed within the hour and the admiral will personally retreave the wardens brainspider as protocol dictates; The wardens body however will be in our custody and we can trade it for an audiance to pleade your cases. Hes been paying off corrupt officials for years to flood his penal unit with compitent marines for years like yourselves and not run of the mill criminals; He knows you'll fight harder for your freedom than those who would stab each other in the back like murderers and rapist."

Hefting her Spaiid one last time she looked around the group, making eye contact with each with her almost lifeless eyes.

"I wont blame you for not liking this but it is the only chance you'll get even if you dont fight. Its ten years at the minimum for most of you and Francis still has five. This is my last op before I'm free and 'm risking it all here to do some good one last time. So get your kit ready and any questions, comments, or concerns becasue we move out in five."

Vaishnavi wasn’t superstitious, but she couldn’t help fult feel worried when she actually did a version of the whole “Two weeks till retirement” thing. She just hoped whatever gods were out there weren’t screenwriters.

Bringing her attention back to the issues at hand, she said, “I can’t speak for the others, Easy, but I don’t really mean to be defeatist.” She moved on to check her sidearm. “There’re just a lot of ‘ifs’ and ‘maybes’, more than most ops. There’s not really a guarantee we’ll go free after icing the warden. But… I can’t think of any better options. So, I’m game. Better than manning the same damn foxhole down here.”

The JV team.

Caffran tugged at his camo-cloak, trying to smooth out the fold lines. The more he heard, the more questions came to mind. If the Warden only had two or three men around him at a time why did Easy need their help? Looked to him that this Easy could easily, oh how Jack would have loved that pun, take out a couple of men by herself. Hell, he was pretty confident he could manage four or five in close combat. So why she really need their help?

What was important to Caffran was that damn bomb on his brain spider. That scared him. Caffran was a vet, he didn't scare easily but that was one thing did scare him. The idea that someone could just kill him instantly and he wouldn't have a chance to fit back. He eyed the other two Marines. Caffran had been in the service long enough to be able to read people pretty quickly. These two seemed solid enough. He could trust them to watch his back. The commissar? No way he'd turn his back on her. She'd be just as likely to shoot him out of spite. Easy? Caff was certain that she had cards she wasn't showing, a lot of cards. But he didn't see a better way out of this mess.

"So we're up against anywhere from 2 to 15 men. Shouldn't be a problem. Where is the Colonel now? How to we get to him? What's the building he's in like?" These were questions that Caffran usually got asked himself. He was the one who scouted ahead of a deployment and found out this kind of stuff. It felt a little strange being the one to now ask it himself.

Clayton was busy checking his sidearm and making sure his gear was in order while listening to everyone else. When everyone started talking specifics about possible combatants. Clayton piped up, "Well 2 to 15 isn't bad odds especially when you got force multipliers like a grenade launcher and SPAIDS. however we would need to make the most out of initial contact so a few grenades launched off and should even the odds a bit don't you think?" he stated as he stood up.

He didn't like the idea of what they had to do but with little other options and the clock against them he be lying if the whole situation didn't have his balls in his throat. "Well we aint getting any younger so, I'm ready if you all are." Clayton stated while white knuckling his rifle out of sheer stress.

"Before we get too far ahead of ourselves, maybe let's look at some maps of the objective. Taking fifteen guys at once and taking fifteen guys in groups of two or three are very different situations," Vaishnavi interjected. She was set to do this op, but she didn't like the idea of charging in blind. "And let's grab some first aid supplies while we're at it."

The Briefing.

On the ground floor of the factory the PD had fortified as its base of operations sat a modest factory floor that spanned almost a sports fields length across and half as much away. Machines of seemingly unknown purpose had given first to rust from the humidity and salt in the air before being hasilty broken down by the new residents and piled up against walls with only the largest of scrap hulks sitting static on the floor. Beyond this catwalks of questionable stability and structural integrity not only lined each wall but also made a criss-cross of ceilingways that only the bold had taken up residence on and only briefly when every added pound seemed to jerk or creak the scaffolding before being told off by the sorry sods underneath and under threat from their collapse.

Here, some three thousand men, women, and everything in between filled the floor in a loose mob with a few outlying exceptions such as the medical staff and those holding the perimiter. Slowly the last dregs filled in as each man or women wore a loose assortment of unequal weapons and armor that made the assembly look more like the gathering of marauding warbands than once marines and sailors were it not for the olive fatigues and simular dress attires upgrading their look from raiders to underfunded mercenaries.

From two different paths entered two different groups with opposing tasks.

Making few waves save for a rare and stunning elysian in their ranks the A-team was able to loiter in their own little corner at the back.

The B-team made more of a presence when the towering and intimidating form of Erin Zelegar; Massive cybernetics and unsettling gray skin set her apart while a tight group of obvious unintelligent mooks followed her at the heels and included Francis Euphoria. They moved slightly deeper into the crowd and against one wall until only Easy was in sight ahead as those with actual survival instincts cleared a path lest several hundred pounds of cybernetic legs crush their feet. They made it to the very front of the assembly and were only short of being in the front row save for a handful of more organized squads holding their positions.

Before too much conversation could bleed over one another several much more armored marines in mostly uniform sets of Golem armor came out from a set of double doors followed by the command staff. Looking much the same as all the other convicts save for a few of them actually having choice equipment the group of ten made their way to stand opposite of the thousands before them as one man unassuming in their midst broke off and scaled a pile of crates of surplus equipment.

Looking rather an average sterotype of a Nepleslian male in the same fatigues as the rest of them and just a simple worn leather holster with the grip of a 45. laying out, he was broad and barrel chested with red-brown hair and light blue eyes with only the barest of stubble on a hard set jaw.





He stood silently, his glare openly judging the thousands before him with a hard gaze that reminded far too many of their own dissapointed fatherly figures until just when it became unbearable one of his staff hefted a large bulky speaker-box to the mans feet and passed up a megaphone-style microphone.

"I wont sugarcoat it; There are forces outside of your control. Most of them- All of them do not care for you." He growled, causing a stir of confusion around the crowd.

"None of them know your names; But for a lack of caring, not ignorance. Your faces, your genders, even your crimes. They simply saw a hard obstacle and chose a cheap and expendable tool to soften it up before the sharp axe takes its turn.

You are the expendable tool today and this city is the obstacle that needs to be softened. But to do that there's one hell of an obstacle in our path before we get to go home and I check a box next to your name that cuts five years off your vacation with us."

His next words caused an uproar.

"There's a ship hull-down in this city and we need to take it down."

Men yelled and jockeyed and pushed and moshed against the frost ranks as the front-most squads; Strategically placed beat back or discouraged the tide. On the stage made of Boxes the warden neither attempted to settle the crowd nor make excuses.

He simply waited and stared down three thousand irrate criminals without even flynching.


"Some of you here know me, many do not; My name is Colonel Anthony Hargraves. In the year zero-three I earned the nickname of the Living Sun for burning elysian city nobody ever heard of and earning my place within this unit as its commander. I've seen thirty-two hundred of you to parole and ten times that many buried. I sit watch with you, I eat the same chow as you, I share the same fate as you win or lose. Never above you or bellow you, i'll always stand on your side when shit kicks the bucket you can believe that. " He settled them after it became clear that rioting wasnt working.

"So when im telling you we need to take out that ship it's not because I want it. Not because I dislike the sight of it. Not because I care overmuch that the kids in orbit will get toasted by it before reaching groundfall.

It's because every one of us is expendable. When the brass up in orbit finds out there's a hard target down here costing them unexpendable lives they arent going to think real hard on the scale of a couple thousand of us or tens of thousands of their own. They'll write us off and our objective and turn this city into a parking lot before you make it a mile from this spot. So we're going to take that ship down the old-fashioned way, And in return, I'll see to it each of you gets an extra ten off your sentences; Fifteen years.

For many of you that will be an early parole, a medal, and a handshake before I get to slap you on the ass and give you a nice intimidating speech about ever ending up in my prison again and how I won't be mad, I'll just be disappointed in you.

So it's not going to be easy. But some of my boys here for being a bit too liberal with their professions assure me that once inside we have enough ordinance rigged up to crack the corvette in half.

So pick yourself up by the bootstraps, untwist your panties and check your mags. You are every mothers cautionary tale and I want every cat and whatever squids have been hiding so far in that ship to piss and ink themselves when they see you coming, heard?!"

There were some cheers, some affectations and assertations of the wardens words. But these were hardened men and women and not young kids in need of a pat on the back or excuses. An overwhelming majority nodded in somber acceptance and grim determination as their commanding officer tossed the megaphone down to one of his staff and stood with arms crossed and waiting.

One by one squad leaders and veteran sergeants started taking command of their squads and slowly ushering them out.

A-team

After the speech, the team was forced to wait until only the last few douzen people were starting to file out. Locust was still there with her group, very obviously waiting for the last dregs to leave as her and her mooks waited. The colonel, still standing on his box had more than noticed her and seemed to be waiting expectantly until the only ones left in the factory was the fifteen men including the warden of the command staff mingling about, Locust and her goons, and the anti-assassination faction that made up the A-team.

There was at least a hundred feet between them and Locust. Though the psychopath had seemingly not broken her target fixation to notice them yet. When the last person of the final squad left through the doors; Locust strode forwards towards her target.


B-Team.

The warden; Colonel Hargraves had been looking directly at them for several minutes now with his deadpan glare as squads began to file out. Some of his staff looked their way every now and then but seemed rather unconcerned about them or their intimidating and very noticeable superior but seemed to be more invested in whatever they had going on between themselves than to worry or question it.

It wasnt off the plan. Erin would be seen and have an alibi enough to get into the right spaces with the command group if they stuck to it. She already had some kind of rapport and they were still within acceptable parameters to complete the job. They had enough guns, supplies, and kit including medical to look the part of being ready to fight, But still the man had noticed they they had yet to move out.

There were a few stragglers, however, clearly staring them down with oddballs like a freespacer type-two, an elysian, and even a mutant in a menagerie in the back clearly looking to bail on the operation somehow by loitering to likely make a dash for it or even to try to make a move on convincing the warden otherwise but were clearly put off by their teams presence.

When the last had left, however, Erin beckoned them forwards towards their target for the first part of her plan. Hypothetically beyond just her this man was the controller of the little bombs inside of their heads and if they didnt want their heads to swell up like a watermellon before popping she had to make first contact.

Behind them at the back of the factory the other stragglers were clearly taking on a hostile posture. Caffran perhapse before all of his team was able to instantly take notice that the chameleon looking mutant had seemingly disappeared which did not bode well. If the stragglers were looking to make a move on their target Erin had explained it had to happen under the right circumstances for her to be able to take control in the command center and disable their charges.

Anything before then like a hostile move against their superior there was no doubt all of their heads would pop even if they werent involved...

The Second String Team

As Caffran entered the large room he felt his senses tingle. There would be trouble here. As the Colonel began his speech, Caffran took a good look around the room. Most of the other 3000 odd people in the room didn't even register under the scouts gaze as a threat until he looked towards the back of the room. That was when the hair seemed to stand up on the back of his neck. Caff was still alive today because he always listened to his gut and his gut was telling him those at the back was the most dangerous people in the room.

He quickly scanned the room, looking for good places of concealment or cover should a firefight break out. There was a few places, although it was unsure how stable those rubbish piles were. One wrong step and you'd bring the whole pile crashing down, potentially burring you under it. The catwalks above were tempting, but they too looked like they'd collapse with just a little weight on them.

The Colonel seemed to finish his speech and the mass of bodies began filing out of the room. Caffran noticed that the group that had given him such chills weren't moving. Nudging his two fellow Marines, Caffran made some quick hand signals. Eyes on those seven in the back... Trouble... Move to cover at first chance... good luck.

Caffran began moving with the crowd, using their movement to cover his own. He was headed for the a corner of them room where there was a latter leading up to the catwalks above. It was also located in-between the makeshift stage and the group at the back. It offered him cover from and would force the back group to have to move past him if they were intending to cause any trouble. As Caff headed for the area he glanced again at the group and scowled. One of them was gone. The big mutant. Caffran quickly began cycling through his cybernetics settings. Low light, infrared, heat source, trying to get a visual of that damn mutant.

A-Team
Between three hard places. No rocks in sight.

The Quail found herself once again the center of attention as she entered the improvides meeting hall, something she'd been used to from growing up, but even then... It was far harsher. More threatening. She stayed aloof and unresponsive, using the bulk of Molo, Tobias and Lupin to keep most eyes off of her as she'd been fiddling with some of the components - a detonator, a lil' bit of powdered jelly, tough of good ol' nitroglycerin - one hell of a noisemaker, no flash and no fireball. Just needed to not drop the damn thing or it'd go off, deafening anyone who didn't have sphincters or metal in their ears.

"So, what's the plan? Knock Locust out before she tries pissing off every marine on the planet, maybe get a bit of free info out of Easy while we're at it, or we lettin' this happen? That group over there ain't looking at us very friendly." The Elysian's voice echoed uncannily in the minds of anyone in her squad that could hear it, except Ringo because that damned mutant had an irritatingly hard-to-memorize face. At the least, the more human of the group got her message. Wings sagging, the bird chose to twirl the little noisemaker around in one hand idly - just visible enough to let Caffan see the improvised explosive between the bulk of the larger-bodied people. In fact, she even winked at him. She knew he was here for a reason, not just to lollygag about.

"Too bad the Colonel seems like a good guy. If we start picking a fight against anyone without a good reason he's probably gonna freeze us forever, if we somehow don't die. Dunno about you guys but I'd rather stay conscious for the next decade." The voice was audible and spoken, but barely more than a whisper. A flutter of feathers signaled the birb was ready to go - whichever target they wanted, she was ready to use the large room to her advantage.

B-team
Clayton Listened to the Colonel, he couldn't help but not believe a word he stated. His pa, warned him back in the day that higher ups care about the shiny metals and promotions not the lowly soldiers under them. So the whole Situation to Clayton Seemed like it was just to feed the idea to the troops and get them to stomach it easier. When people began filing out he would get up and fallow. Moving with them so as to cover his own movements he made his way to one of the largest scrap hulks sitting static on the floor. Once behind it He would peek out to see if anyone notice him before ducking back and loading a 40mm grenade into the underslung.

Now the waiting game begins.

Vaishnavi did her best to blend in with the hall full of poor bastards hyped up on adrenaline and maybe more than a few cocktails of drugs. The warden, Colonel Hargraves, seemed to be turning them into his own little group of cult fanatics. It felt a little unfair that was being given a second lease on life while these guys were being fed to the meat grinder. She could have been any of those guys and any of them could have been standing where she stood now. Well, she’d better make this count.

Finally the crowd began to disburse. Off to the butcher. A nudge from Caff snapped her out of her brooding. He’d been falling into the role of leader for their little band for reasons beyond simple rank. She followed his furtive gestures noting the other group that stayed behind. Trouble? It’d be her job to keep their heads down if the shooting started. She tasked one of her armor’s microcameras to track Col. Hargreaves and another to track the group. Best not sit there pointing her head at somebody you want to take a sneaky peak at. Whether those guys were hostiles or not, things were about to get really hot really quick. Drifting with the crowd, she looked for a place outside the soon to be killing cauldron. She passed a large piece of machinery near the exit and stepped into its shadow kneeling to fidget with her boot. Don’t mind me, my laces are just untied, she willed towards the passers by while she fiddled with a perfectly tied shoelace. Angling her self so that her suit microcameras could still track her targets, she pulled up a third camera feed, this one to watch her six, she settled in to wait.

A-Team
Double agent? Triple agent?

Tobias watched the warden's speech, listening as words of encouragement, disguised as they were behind layers of hardass. Hargraves was a good man, perhaps too good for his own posting. He was, by many measures, as Nepleslian as one could dream of being short of chomping a cigar while he'd given that speech. It was a shame, then, that he was slated to die in order to fulfill the machinations of some unseen mind.

But perhaps he need not be lost forever, Nepleslia need not be deprived of his services once Abigail Killgee was gone. The beginnings of a plan began to form in Tobias' mind, and he made his way over to Locust's warpath, crossing it in a manner that would have appeared coincidental to anyone who wasn't already on guard against the woman. He spoke at such a level that only another IPG-augmented cyborg, in as close proximity as the two of them, would have been able to hear it.

"Once you're done with them, don't destroy his head. I'll need to wipe the brainspider to make sure there's nothing left." He knew that Locust didn't have the expertise needed for such an operation, or at least that she was well enough trained to fall back on a teammate with better expertise than her own, and he was banking on her bloodlust and target fixation blinding her to the possibility that he was bending the truth. Deuce was the best liar that Tobias had ever known, and he was now making use of every trick he'd learned from her to sell the illusion.

When he was done, there'd be nothing left on the Colonel's brainspider to recover, alright. He'd be stored away safely inside a datavault kept in part of Tobias' mindware, waiting to wake back up when his service was needed once more. Ironic, in a way, that he'd be doing something akin to what Killgee had done to himself and the other orphans.

The warehouse - All Teams.
With just Locust-Erin and a few hangars on the command staff started to file out with some going the same way as the major group and a few others to their own stations elsewhere. In the end there was the warden himself; Hargraves, two golem armored marines, and a marine in lighter golem armor with the markings of a the twin saws and skull of a medic.

The three latter watched the imposter of Erin Zelegar approaching with masked emotions.

"Come." Was all Locust responded to Tobias with after little more than an appraising glance at the former operator He had been on the mark about her and his services, while short, was still a part of her team once with Duece and had clearly meant something. They were not intercepted by the two bodyguards but the medic clearly looked at Locust skeptical and was no doubt once again running the tale of Erin Zelegar turning gray and getting chromed up against his own knowledge.

Hargraves watched them with cold eyes that looked more through them than anything but still nodded in greeting to the cyborg easily at eye level with him on his stack of crates.

"How're you feeling, Erin?" The man asked with clear sympathy towards the supposed victim, sparing Tobias a glance but not questioning his presence.

"Tight n' right, warden." She responded with a dull deadpan like a child reading off a script. "Got five?"

The colonel simply nodded once before gesturing with his chin towards the doors he and his staff had come from."I'll do you ten better. Got time before the boys're in position; My doors always open for kids like you, Easy."

He started off with Locust in tow and after a quick glance from her in acknowledgment both Tobias and Francis Euphoria who gave the former an obvious death glare at his proximity to her and finally the medic taking up the rear; M3aws in both hands. Within seconds they were gone with the two armored marines taking up position to the sides of the door, neither noticing when it not only didn't fully close but hung momentarily before shutting.

Both men watched the A-teams members and even those of the B-team only slightly hidden with clear apathy or judgement of not filing out with the rest of the unit. Likely in their eyes cowards and deserters but not worth their time.

Tobias had gotten in from the A-team. But was seeming without backup and an unstoppable and unstable wrecking ball who had already almost killed them multiple times. For the other team if all were to go to plan all they were required to do was ensure neither the guards nor interlopers bothered the SNCO when things went down.

While they were being mostly ignored by the two golem-armed marines, the tense silence in the warehouse was so thin that all present could hear the audible click of one of the two marines' safeties switching off at their continued presence.

The other looked oddly at the sight of a type-two spacer and an Elysian of all things with their twink companion and Carina as the oddly normal looking one there.

TOC - Tobius

The hall was rather short at barely a wing long and led to an open room without a door. Monitors were bolted to walls and through thick muscle-like cables were plugged into terminals and machines showing various streams of data ranging from the arbitrary positions of units slowly fanning out around a large triangle shape on a rough map of scouted sections of the city to muted radio channels fluctuating their soundwaves into closed caption while certain words changed color and were highlighted to be taken notice of.

The room was devoid of all souls but could easily hold ten to twenty at various stations while a lone prefab desk sat at the back to overlook them with its own terminal for the commanding officer.

Hargraves took his seat at the desk and looked off at a few of the terminals while the medic blocked the path of Francis and Tobius at the door quite obviously and began to tap on a datajockey after Locust had entered and stood opposite of the man at his desk like a student in the principles office while they began to speak out of earshot.

As this went on, Francis no doubt would not be able to tell but through his uplink that the medic in front of him was querying the connection to Tobius, Francis, and Locusts charges inside their heads and their information using the authority of the companies chief medical executive. Through the golems mask and goggles the mans face was unknown but there was the slightest raise of his head as he no doubt looked at the two of them.

"Got a new muse, Franny?" An unexpectedly gruff but female voice came out of the mask as the medic continued the query on her datajockey, including a pre-rendering test of the bombs activation codes. "Easy might be a bit too much for even you to bite off compared to your normal marks."

Francis Euphoria visibly brightened and even flushed a little bit before, once again, glaring at Tobius for having seen her blush.

"It's not like that, Jo!" Francis giggled with an uncharacteristic girliness as past them and into the room Hargraves put a hand on Locusts shoulder sympathetically who in turn showed a strange emotion Tobius could not read but made her look oddly constipated of all things.

A-Team, Prior
"Right, well I do apologize for pointing a gun at you, even an unloaded one~ I'm still trying to wrap my head around how deep the shit we're stuck in is," Lupin admitted, loading the handgun and stowing it away on his hip as he offered the chameleon a slight grimace. He still didn't trust that scaly stranger, but whether it was pure paranoia or a warranted concern was yet to be seen.

The marksman acknowledged Molotra with a glance over his shoulder, those pretty eyes sparkling under the unreliable flickering of the warehouse's overhead lighting, though he scooted around to better face her to answer that question.

"It's... complicated, but supposedly I'm the result of some prince's genetic material going through two different eugenics programs. Parts of the timelines match up... but I'm honestly not sure if I believe it, we've not run across too many truths as of late," Lupin offered as an abridged explanation of the wordvomit that'd been dumped on his lap, but with the way the crappy lighting highlighted the lad's broad shoulders and square jaw.... maybe there was some legitimacy to those claims of him being curated in a lab somewhere.

A-Team, Present
Lupin did his best to make adjustments to his m3's sling look boring and uninteresting as he stood about, when in actuality the young man was preparing to raise the carbine at a moment's notice. With the eyes on him and the others it really seemed like things were going that way... but at least the reptillian heat signature was off making trouble elsewhere for the time being. His eyes passed by the squad's feathered demolitionist, shooting her a quick look that suggested she keep her throwing arm ready, as he slowly spiralled around to a pillar.

"I found a lighter, a decent one," Lupin spoke up to nobody in particular, ethereal eyes drifting between the guards and that other squad that was watching them as he leant up against the concrete thing, ready to dip behind it as needed.

"I'd be willing to share it if anybody found something to smoke, one last dart before certain death and all that," he finished, lips pursed thoughtfully as he brought a mass-production arc lighter with a cheap plastic hull into view. Splitting these bastards up, if possible, would hopefully tip the scales in the squad's favour.

Not the A Team

Caffran gritted his teeth as Easy, the Colonel that crazy woman and a member of the other group left the hanger. The thought fast. He might be able to slip by those two golem-armed marines. If there was better cover, or a distraction he might just make it. It be a long shot however. Could he take two armored marines quickly and quietly enough not to alert the whole base? Perhaps, but not with that other group of unknows at the back. He would need some big distraction.

Caffran had caught sight of the birb's explosives'. Now that would make a good distraction, but could also potentially get them all killed. His mind continued to race. Stealth was Caffran's go to. Even as a kid he loved sneaking and hiding. His mother and uncle had been amazing stealthers and had taught him well. But even they would have been hard pressed to sneak out of this room the way things stood. Well, when Stealth was no longer an option. Caff fell back on his other skill. Close quarters combat. He just needed an excuse to get closer to that other group. If he could get close, he could probably take out one or two of them before they had time to react. Then his teammates could lay down supporting fire. That would draw off the golem's from the door and he could slip through in the confusion. Gutsy, but Caffran felt he was running out of options and time.

Then, as if some higher power was looking out for him, an opening. One of the other group had casually offered to light a smoke. Oh it was most likely a trap. Probably the bastard had the same line of thought as he did. Get the other group split up or off guard. Well, he'd take the bait. And see if the hunter became the hunted. His lucky star must be working over time because he saw a cigar tin on the ground near where he stood. A quick check reveled three long thin cigars. Time to make his move.

Caffran stood and held up a cigar case towards the man by the pillar. "I've got an extra smoke." The dragon tattooed scout said causally. Carefully he made his way towards the man. "Though I'm a bit of a smoke snob, I prefer to light with a match over a lighter. Less chemical taste that way." He began patting his pockets as if he was looking for a match. He reached on hand behind his back as if he was patting his pockets and gave a quick hand signal. It was out of sight of the other group put within view of his teammates. Get ready to lay cover fire.

As if to prove luck comes in threes, Caffran actually found an old match box in his back pocket. He put one of the cigars in-between his teeth and handed the other to the other man before striking the match and lighting his own. He felt tense, ready to spring into action was his voice was calm and even as he casually said, "Terrible place to die isn't in?" Even though he had lighted his cigar with the match Caff hadn't blown it out. He held it absentmindedly, as if he had forgotten it was there. The little flame continued to burn up the wood towards his fingers.

On fucking who? Vaishnavi thought to herself. She continued watching her camera feeds. Caff was too close to those door guards. She was a good shot, but she wasn’t risking it with a SPAID. If those other guys tried something, she’d have to light them up, but so far she didn’t know their status and the idea of blue on blue fire put her stomach in knots. The fuck are you planning, Caff? she angrily thought at the sergeant.

Quietly racking his rifle he remained crouched behind the pillar of scrap. Looking out to catch the hand single of Caff He pressed himself deeper into cover as he positioned his m3 rifle on the doorman on the left. Common Caff whats the signal supposed to be? Clayton thought to himself, beads of sweat dripping down his brow at the situation their in. Letting out a shaky breath he had no eyes on the demo bird. Taking aim at the other person Caff gave a smoke to he would aim low towards the legs and hip of the other force. Hopefully we don't end up killing these guys if they turn out to be friendly, but maiming them should be fine. Clayton thought to himself once more.

"Scrapyard to the left of me killing field to the right. here I am stuck in the middle with you." he said under his breath Watching Caff, Clayton noticed Caff hadn't put out his match from lighting it. hoping hes not wrong he took that as a sign to start providing cover fire. Taking Breath he would hold it for four seconds and as he exhaled he would fire off a burst from his m3 aiming for the legs and hip of the guy Caff just gave a cigar to.