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RP: Cirrus Station [Episode 3] Sunny Day on Prilisa Four

Laughing to himself, Deacon put up his paws in a sign of surrender.

"Alright, alright, no need to get all rabid on me. I was just asking. And you didn't answer much of what I was asking. If what you just said is to be believed, we know nothing of our enemies, nothing of our surroundings, have no weapons or defenses. By that, we're pretty much, as you people are fond of saying, screwed."

The Kohanian sat back and closed his eyes, breathing in and out slowly as he began to try and think, tried to figure out what these creatures, called nekos, wanted with the team and their ride. Tweak would be little help, as she seemed to be just all defensive and not willing to bring her team mate in on what plans she might have. So far, the only person who seemed at all interested in working as a team, was the man that got left outside the shuttle, and outside the port, Lorcan if Deacon recalled the name correctly.
 
Della said:
You have implants, but no neural interface with a communication suite?

"Just a neural jack, yeah. The full interfacing suite was... more invasive than I wanted."

Della said:
I can link up cameras and sensors to your helmet's HUD, so you'd perceive what I perceive... in a way. You'll have to direct me verbally, step by step, so I don't screw up. That works with you, Kaz?

She nodded, instinctively. "It does. Do it quickly, though, before they decide to tear my helmet off."
 
"Umm, afore you two embark on your roaring rampage of revenge, could I make a wee suggestion?" Cyril asked, feebly waving his hand at the wrist (about all the movement he could manage with madam handcuffs still wrapped around his waist) at Dream and Keziah. He had had an idea while the two were taking, mostly out of an understandable aversion to being too close to the target of a maser. He barely trusted the CSS suit to handle solar radiation during a space walk, nevermind coherent microwave radiation. "I've got an idea of how to get out of this. But, and this is the part you ain't going to like, we need to be tied up first."
 
"Well ma'am, basically, we let these things carry us to wherever they're going to. Then, when they tie us up, you and Kaz take those Wolverines and make a bloody great noise. Great big distraction measure stuff, lots o' noise and flash nae much effectiveness. We want every fucking neko here on top of those things and fucking kept there, right?

"Once they're all busy, we cut everyone free. Then we make a brake for the shuttle, or, even better, we get Tweak or Fuzzy to bring it as close to the main entrance as possible. We dust off, fly back to Cirrus, and it's beer and cigars all around."
 
Tweak frowned at Deacon. "Hey, you're the one calling me 'Dark One' and asking questions that don't have anything to do with the problem at hand," she muttered, sticking her tongue out at him after he closed his eyes. Everyone's in trouble and he goes and takes a nap! Tweak returned to the display panel that Dream had contacted her on last time and checked for new messages before doing her own analysis of the situation. "We do have weapons. The rifles still work, and there are plenty of materials to make weapons out of. And the same goes for defense," she said, thinking aloud. Cracking the case on another bullet, she popped the metal core into her mouth and chewed it, mashing it in with the aluminum she already had. "The shuttle sensors can tell us what we need of our immediate surroundings, but not much more. We can take off and fly around if we need more."

Tweak fell silent as she began to mull things over. First, she needed to define her goal. Defeat the nekos completely? Rescue the team and/or the hostages? Or provide a diversion for them to make their own escape? The latter was discarded because she didn't know what condition the team was in, and there wasn't an easy way to make sure that _every_ neko was sufficiently distracted. And if that plan failed, there wouldn't be a second chance.

The second option, the team rescue, was tricky but possible if she could successfully coordinate her efforts with Dream and the people on the inside. Dream had mentioned that she could remotely pilot the shuttle, maybe she could control other things too...like trucks or other craft. There had to be some of those around, this was a spaceport after all.

The first one was the most obvious choice, but also the most complicated to plan. Taking all nekos on at once was likely a bad idea, especially with her abilities restricted as they were by the presence of a witness. Tweak scowled at herself as she found herself wondering which was more important: Her team, or her safety? But Dream might have been on to something. If I pick them off, either in groups or one by one, it would be easier...

...but it would take forever. There had to be twenty or more, and they're likely to figure out that something's wrong before I get too deep into their roster.


She sighed, then swiveled the pilot's chair to look back at Deacon. "Having any ideas?" she asked.
 
"Two problems."

She let out a heavy sigh. Finally, finally she had wormed her body around so the plates weren't killing her. Now they were just uncomfortably jabbing against her ribs, instead of between them. Not perfect, but then again, the suits probably weren't designed with neko's in mind.

"One; Dream needs my help to pilot the Wolverines. I can't do that without my helmet. And two; how do we get free?"

A short pause as she swept her eyes over the cat-women. They sure were taking their time going back to where they were originally.

"Oh, and how do we know that'll bring the neko's out, especially all of them? They're feral, but they still seem intelligent. After all, we're alive for a reason."
 
Cyril grinned inside his helmet.

"Well, look what came for a piddling little nuisance like us, right?" He said, indicating the assembled hoard of nekos with a toss of his head.

"As for getting loose, well that's where I can actually be useful for a change. Years and years ago, I got a cutter put into me arm, right? Assuming they don't rip the fucking thing off, which I doubt. I mean, me tail's still here, right? Anyway, so long as they don't rip my arm off and they use Nerimium handcuffs or something stupid like that, it should cut through it.

"And your helmet, well, what make you think that they'll think to take it off. I mean they have gone feral. It may not even occure to them that we've got radios in them. Course, if they do... Shite, that could be a problem. Anyone got any ideas?" He asked, looking around at what was left of the squad. It had been a good plan, he thought. But Dream loosing her copilot in the powered armor could play silly buggers with it. He just didn't know if it would work as well, or at all for that matter, if the Wolverines couldn't bring the hammer down when the shit hit the fan. If they couldn't get around that, then they might as well say 'bugger that' to the whole idea.
 

Meanwhile, a message on one of the monitors aboard the shuttle was blinking...
 
"Oh, well then. Bring the noise. I suppose the rest o' us'll see to getting us free once you've gotten the nekos riled up then?" He asked. That really was the better better way of getting the nekos out of their hair, just so long as they didn't bring the space port down around their ears. That being said, Dream didn't really seem to have any further steps mapped out beyond the usually admirable 'kill anything with fuzzy ears'. Cyril had to assume that she had an end game plan. But until it made itself clear he might as well chip in his own two creds worth.
 
The blinking caught Tweak's eye and she glanced toward Dream's message as she waited for Deacon to answer.
 
Code:
Oy, Tweak. Deacon still there? I found a couple of power armors on the other side of the spaceport. I'm gonna try and bring them over to your place with Kaz's help. Can you people use them? If not... too bad, you'll have to use them anyway.

Immersed in her virtual reality mindscape, Dream prodded at one of the two Wolverine, hoping that they were serviceable. She waved around a bit, trying to get used to its systems, adapting her virtual projection to its systems.
It was a lot different to the kind of crafts she was used to. A lot... harder to interface with.

"Yeah, that's right, neps don't like to use remote-controlled stuff." She said to herself.

She relaxed, and tried to bring the power armor online.
 
The Kohanian male spoke without actually opening his eyes, still rolling the soda can between his paws.

"These are not a well trained military force by my interaction with them. They are a bunch of silly little kittens who are looking for companionship. I tried to talk to them, to try to find common ground in our primal backgrounds, and got a can shoved into my face. I think that could be a wonderful advantage we might be able to use, if nothing else. But I know for a fact that we need to find a way to get The Administrator's stuff on the ship as well...Remember that that is what brought us here, not the nekos, as you call them."

He shifted slightly and pulled one of his HHGs, idly spinning it gunslinger style around his fingers, first going forward, then backward as he continued to think.

"Of course, what would I know. I am just the dog with a gun." He smiled, opening one eye to watch Tweak's reaction.
 
Code:
Yes, Deacon's here. I don't know if he knows how to use one of those, but I can learn if you transmit what Kaz tells you to this screen. My helmet was destroyed, so I can't use my radio or the computer in the suit.

They are not a hostile military force, but they are most definitely trained, thought Tweak as she replied to Dream's message. But she kept her thoughts to herself. Except for one.

"As I call them? What do you call them?" she asked Deacon while typing the reply to Dream. "And Dream wants to know if you know how to pilot a Wolverine power armor."
 
Squad 35's captors, carrying along their breathing burdens, marched through the spaceport's corridors in triumph, making sure to let everyone and everything within ear's reach know with their whooping yells and tribalistic cheers. The neko leading the pack, headstrong as she was, pointed dramatically and called out as she directed the mob of cat-woman towards their destination.

This, in itself, was why it seemed to take an eternity before finally arriving. It would seem that the leader of this 'hunting party' had become lost midway through their trek, which became increasingly more apparent at each corner they turned and each nail-less finger she chewed on when she believed nobody was looking. This little act finally came to a head when thier final turn ran them directly into a dead end. A pause of silence, confusion and aggrivation (mostly the latter) later, and the party of amazonesque nekos arrived at the 'throne room' of their little living area; the generator room, complete with Queen Neko sitting atop her spire of rubble, silverware headress swaying with her impatient, rocking motions.

Queenie grinned widely as they entered, shouting out an unmistakable cry of victory. The lesser nekos then went about quickly releasing and tieing their captured prey up with previously-prepared ropes made from clothing fabric and whatever else they could get their hands on from around the spaceport.

One of the prisoners closer to the area that Squad 35 was being confined at spoke to them rather plainly as the nekos went about their work. His garb, a Cirrus Station Security suit without the helmet, a stark #63 on his shoulder betraying his assigned squad, gave away his identity immediately. The Nepleslian looked at each Squad 35 with a grim frown.

"I was hoping you guys would get away and call for backup. Those goddamn nekos have this place absolutely locked down, from what I could tell."

---

Dreams attempts at remotely controlling a single Wolverine utility machine were met with mixed results. Through either Dreams untrained skill or malfunctional equipment aboard the actual unit, the Wolverine was sluggish and uncoordinated, knocking around canisters and denting walls at each of Dreams attempts at movement. However, something else coming in to view would surely garner more attention to Dream, or more specifically her view from the security cameras.

George and Lenny, their physical views lost to Dream as they escaped from their broom closet via airduct, appeared quite suddenly in the machine bay, falling quite hard from the ceiling with a heavy thud and resounding curses. After recovering, the two looked up at the hole they had fallen from, which was obscured from Dream's view. The Wolverine moving across the room certainly made them a little wary-looking...but their looks of fear were quickly turned back to seriousness and determination.

It was diffucult to tell what the two bumbling security team members were discussing, as there were no microphones on the security cameras to catch sound, and neither of them were wearing their security helmets.

It would also appear as if they were talking to...the ceiling. Staring at the air-duct they had just descended ungracefully from, nodding and moving their mouths to speak on occasion.
 
"Whoa!" Keziah didn't mean to say that, as her helmet camera shuddered from another impact. "Ease off the motive thrusters, they seem to be really touchy on this unit."

Her full attention was on the projected display, even as the nekos bound her up. At least they let her keep her helmet, which was about as much as she could've asked for. Even so, the position they strung her up in started to make her broken armor plates jab a little more painfully than before.

"I'm guessing this thing hasn't been maintained properly, maybe it--" She cut herself off as soon as she saw the two CSS cowards drop into the machine bay. "Well, look who it is. Anyways." Her eyes sharpened, diverting her focus away from the two. "How about we play with the claws a little, see if they work properly at least."
 
Dream was docile as a rag doll in the real world, completely out cold. Her body had recovered from the shock of the Neko's assault, but she saw no use in her own physical body at the time: She couldn't do a thing, after all.

Instead, the situation in the machine bay was indeed interesting.

"Damnit, I can't find a way to communicate with them..." Thought Dream, while at the same time wondering just who they were talking with.

She sighed to herself, or something equivalent. "Well, they must think that I'm either a ghost or a neko. In either case, a very clumsy one." She noted, steadying the Wolverine not without much trouble. Why the heck did the Neps make such ungraceful machines, anyway?

...Oh, yeah. They lived on planets. She had forgotten.

With a mental command, she opened the Wolverine's pilot cockpit in what she hoped would seem like an inviting gesture.

"Plus,after seeing a Wolverine walking around, then the cockpit opening and revealing it's empty, they'll want to investigate, I hope."

She sent a blinking message on every internal monitor of the Wolverine she had access to:

Code:
Hello there. Dream here, from squad 35. Do you know how to pilot those things? That'd come in handy.
She also reset the radio array on the same frequency Squad 35 used, so she could put everyone in contact if they got on-board.

Meanwhile, she sent a message to Tweak as well:

Code:
Those things are hard to pilot. I've come across George and Lenny, they made their way to the machine bay. Smart fellows. I'm trying to get into contact with them. Will keep you updated.

And to the rest of the squad, via radio:

 
Fitz was being slowly pulled out of his knocked out state thanks in part by the loud neko shrieks. First thing he realized was that he couldn't move his arms, and that they were in a position in that he couldn't reach an itch that was bothering him, second thing was the chatter on the radio. Other than the shrieking he was a bit interested in why he still had his helmet on. His comm system had been still working ever since he was on the radio before being knocked out apparently.

"Wha... Axial Gauge? Isn't that the thing for balancing purposes?" he sorta mumbled out as he raised his eyes and shook his head a little. "Oh well this is interesting, oh hey more company! How have you been pal?" he then asked the fellow security member.
 
Deacon opened his eyes, looking a bit miffed.

"We call them Star Destroyers, because they come from the stars with the intent to destroy any and everyone who do not agree with the way they think things should be done. No one is allowed to be different with them, they have to all be the same."

He stopped spinning his revolvers and started to cock and release the hammers on them, obviously quite perturbed.

"It was because of them, and the 'ideals' that they stood for that the war broke out on my planet. Their racism and narrow-mindedness caused the furless ones on planet, to turn on those just trying to make a living for themselves, until finally they actually attacked the Holy City, killing innocents and children as they knelt to pray."

Shaking his head to the other portion of her questions, he sighed.

"No, I never was very good at armor piloting in training. The blasted things don't fit someone with unique body shape like myself." He smiled and shrugged, looking apologetic.
 
"The axial gauge is a... balance meter. Try and keep it centered, so we don't accidentally do sommersaults in midair." She grunted faintly to Fitz' words, before continuing.

"Okay, now, while we're waiting for them to make their way over, see if you can compensate for the thing's heavy ass by applying more power to the rear gravity pads." Combat maneuvers would be tricky, especially since she hadn't ever exactly flown something like the Wolverine. Ah, the grace and elegance of true power armor--how she missed it.

Still, it was good to start with baby steps, especially if their errant security guards took their time in deciding to get inside the machine. Or if they got scared off by it completely.

Keziah frowned at the display, her eyes focusing on the blinking axial gauge. "Okay, either the internal sensors are screwy, or something else is wrong, but the gauge should settle down to green. Try playing with the gravity settings until it stops."
 
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