RP [IIS] Hazardous Materials

Ethereal

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Oct 12, 2015
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Northern England
#1
IIS Nepleslian Field Office, System P1-9 "Fortuna"
High Noon



The sun was harsh and beating hard over the surface of Fortuna, strong enough in fact to cause the many people to stay in the cool indoors of the various military and civilian settlements that clustered the Nepleslian colony in dense cities and fortified compounds. High above the system capital of Opportunity City orbited the newly warped IIS Avalon - main location for the Nepleslia business for Iemochi Innovations & Sales - lazily turned on its axis. The gigantic spaceport was around 30 miles long and 20 miles high, a behemoth with over 7,000 decks. Shuttles, cargo freighters as well as the odd IIS security fleet vessel slipped in and out of the various hangars scattered across the midsection of the floating city. It had been in the company for nearly five years now, yet it had only been relocated to Fortuna from AX-03 partway through its service - once it became obvious that IIS would have major dealings with Nepleslia. Now, it had grown into a bustling trade hub through which vessels of all shades came to trade and prosper.

At least that is what the monitor on the debarkment tunnel wall was informing Justin, the glories of current Nepleslia. "Man, I just want to get this job over with.", thought Justin. Pushing his own luggage on an old freight cart, various old black duffel bags piled atop a meter long cube, dusty and dingy from long use, Justin was looking for his contact. Jimmy Sorano a.k.a. Jimmy the Sleaze had assured him of the reliability of the contact. That was of course why he kept a .357 under his left arm and his fatboy in chubby mode strapped to his back under his dark grey raincoat. a retractable blade tucked into his right boot rounded out his prepared defense against betrayal. Up ahead Justin spotted his contact, an averaged height man who seemed as wide as he was tall holding a scrap of packaging cardboard with the name Justin on it and wearing a pastel colored button shirt with excessive oil and grease stains adorning the front and heavy persperation noted on the underarms.

"You Justin?" the fat man asked.
"Sure am," Justing replied. "you bring a truck for my stuff?
"Si, amigo. By the way, you can call me Gabriel." Gabriel confirmed. "I was told I could count on a bit of....compensation for my time?
Justin smirked, "I like that. straight to the point." Justin stared at Gabriel for a moment, then said "I'll give you 20 bells now, and a C note when we are done with delivery." "If everything goes well, i might be able to use you on another job i might have coming up soon."
"Si, Le Heffe. You da boss. Can do!" Gabriel exclaimed.

Gabriel gladly led the way, and Justin didn't mind, as Justin was very protective of the cargo promised to IIS, and wasn't about to let a guy he had just met to handle his future business or reputation for contract completion. The truck ahead, the one Gabriel was walking towards, looked to be more than a hundred years old, with little, mismatched wheels and rust spots covering more of the surface of the truck than the lime green paint it supposedly sported. A broken tailgate rounded out the pickup. Justin was thinking, "I'm glad i brought a tarp..."

After loading the crate and bags in the back of the truck and securing them with polyrope and an orange tarp, Gabriel and Justin climbed into the cab of the truck. Sliding his "cool shades" on, Justin linked into the local net with his DataJocky.

Typing a message to:

Barmor Insing
Senior Sales Representative
Iemochi Innovations & Sales

I have arrived on planet and am enroute for delivery. ETA within the hour.
--Justin McCallum

Message sent, Justin checked the magazine on his .357 and linked his fatboy to his Visor, the HUD coming alive. Justin didnt survive two wars and more battles than he could count by being unprepared.

After a few minutes, Justin's DataJocky pinged and vibrated lightly inside its pocket, alerting him to an incoming message. Sure enough, it was Mr. Insing. The message read simply: "We're glad to see you got here safely, we will let the guards know to let you through. Barmor Insing."

Arriving at the IIS compound, Justin directed Gabriel to pull up to the front gate. With deep bass vibrating the cab, Gabriel sang in a strange Nepleslian Dialect.

The IIS compound was more of a assortment of office buildings than anything, yet the levels of security suggested differently. Perhaps it was something to do with the type of goods they had to receive - radioactive isotopes were hardly storefront goods. Imposing, vaulted gates and high walls ringed the small assembly of buildings - blast doors were even visible on several of the buildings themselves. A functional yet somewhat aesthetically pleasing guardhouse stood to one corner of the main entrance, where two armed and uniformed guards stood chatting idly.

"O.K. Gabriel, turn that shit down so you can get paid." Justin wearily said.
"Si, boss." Gabriel replied.

Pulling up to the guard house, Gabriel waved at the guards. "What a greenhorn", Justin thought, but said nothing.
"Hey, ese!" Gabriel called out. "We got your delivery, homes." Justin just glowered in all directions and laid his hand on Gabriel's shoulder.
"Let your supervisior know the delivery for Mr. Insing is here." Justin calmly expressed to one of the guards. Born of years of practice, Justin flicked the "chubby" to full auto with a wink of his eye behind the visor, scanning various information being fed into his HUD.

The guards' conversation petered out almost instantly as Gabriel shouted over to them - it probably seemed to them less than professional but who knows. The taller of the two nodded to the other, disappearing to one corner of the guardroom, likely contacting someone inside the compound. The other scooped up an assault rifle on his way out of the small room, slinging its strap over his neck as he went. The uniformed man pulled his baseball cap down a little over his shorter hair, drawing up beside the driver's side of the transport.

He took a moment to size up Gabriel, hand resting lightly on the handle of his rifle before swinging his gaze to Justin. Apparently satisfied, his grip relaxed and he retrieved a small datapad from one pouch on his tactical vest. Glancing between the two men inside the truck and the glowing screen, the close-shaven man asked simply yet politely "Names and IDs, please."

Gabriel struggles for several minutes digging a moist leather wallet from his back pocket while Justin swiped an app on his DataJocky, displaying Justin's face and info on the pad. Showing the ID to the two guards, Justin continued to scan the area outside of the compound. "We are expected, I assume?" Justin queried.

The guardsman leaned over a little, taking a good look at each of the IDs while being incredibly careful not to touch Gabriel's. His nose crinkled up ever so slightly as he leaned in to get a closer look - Gabriel smelled.. ripe.. to say the least. "Yessir, standard procedure." the man responded with a nod. "One moment, please." he added, walking a few steps away to get a better look of the guardhouse.

Mere moments later, his companion appeared at the door, giving a visual thumbs up which he returned. He paced back to Justin and Gabriel with a polite smile, pointing a finger to one of the nearby buildings. "Mr. Insing will meet you over at the cargo inspection area, you can park up right in front of it. I'll see you on your way out, sirs." With that, the portcullis-like gate began to rumble and slide open, clearing the way for the veteran and his fragrant friend.

Gabriel mashed onto the accelerator, shooting forward towards the indicated building, turning up the "music". Justin just went with it now, Clearly Gabriel was either a genius or a complete idiot, with wild behavior and terrible hygiene. Backing up quickly and surprisingly accurately, the truck backed up to the low loading dock with millimeters to spare. "Hey boss, I got us here as promised." suggested Gabriel, glancing at where Justin's billfold resided. "You get paid when I get paid, Gabriel. Just sit tight here. Now it's my turn to earn our pay." Justin explained. Of course, Gabriel would be kept as much in the dark as possible, if for his own safety as anybody else's. Justin climbed out of the cab of the truck and climbed onto the loading dock of the inspection area, looking around for a suit and tie.

As Gabriel floored it into the courtyard of the facility with no warning, the guard that had checked their IDs turned instincitvely to place his left leg towards the vehicle. He looked for a split second as if he was going to raise his rifle. Instead, he just shook his head, giving his colleage a look of distain from the other side of the gate.

Justin would spot his business-looking guy a mile away, the man practically looked as if he was cut out of a copy of "Business Weekly" - his combed hair was perfectly styled, pristeen tailored suit hugging his body with a smile that could blind a mole. The dark-skinned business guy was almost definitely Mr.Insing, though he was with two others, one in a hazmat suit and another in similar attire to the gate guards. Without delay as he spotted Justin, the suited man made his way over to the scarred visitor.

"Welcome! Mister McCallum I assume?" the question was complemented with a hand offered for a shake, after which the clean-cut suit waited expectantly.
Justin eagerly clasped Mr. Insing's hand, noting the contrast between his own callused hand and the soft appendage. "Thank you, Sir. I apologize for my companion. He is quite useful, despite his look.." Justin explained. "Shall we get down to business? I'm sure you are a very busy man, Mr. Insing, and I have another appointment to make arrangements for."

Barmor Insing nodded in understanding several times as their hands shook, listening intently. "Ah, I'm sure you do Mister McCallum - this shouldn't take long." he spoke in a reserved eagerness and as they broke their handshake, he gestured to a nearby door adorned with radiation, chemical and biological warning symbols. "Doctor Yanzing here will just take a quick look over the goods and you should be on your way - I believe it was eighty thousand we agreed on?"

As he mentioned the Doctor, the man near the back of the room dressed in full hazmat raised a hand in greeting. Beside him was the security guy, pistol secured in a holster to his muscled hip and with a suitcase and handcuff combo attached to his left wrist. "Would it be alright if we take the merchandise into the shielded room? Of course you'll be welcome to sit in - though radiation isn't the most accommodating of things." That winning smile sprung back to Insing's face, his eyes then sweeping to the truck's rear.

"Of course you make take the Merchandise into the shielded room. I would gladly wait here with you while our business is concluded. And dont forget that datapad you mentioned. It's the little things that show you care." Justin responded, both with words and his own winning smile.

"Nothing truer ever said, Mister McCallum. We at IIS like to show we care for our business associates." Barmor spoke with some enthusiasm, obviously taking pride in his work. Beckoning to the scientist, the hazmatted man quickly grabbed a small cart and stepped over to the truck, slotting the cart underneath the container and whisking it into the metal-doored room. The portal hissed and clanked as it locked again behind him, leaving the three remaining in the room.

"Jenny? Can we get a boxed datapad and some refreshments down to DC-29? Thanks." Insing spoke, raising his hand to his ear for a moment, apparently communicating with someone else. "So, Mister McCallum - can I call you Justin? What's your line of work if you don't mind me asking? We often get in touch with former business partners even after our original business is concluded - it's not what you know, it's who you know when it comes to business."

"I don't mind, Barmor. I spent some time in the military and the old IPG, now I am in acquisitions and eliminations." Justin responded affiably, showing neither offence or reservation. Nowadays, I gotta pay the bills any way I can. You can ask around in the older intelligence community and they can give you some excellent references." Justin said. "Building bridges is just as important as keeping your word."

Barmor didn't seem the slightest bit surprised. "A man of your stature, I imagine you made an excellent soldier. You look like the kind of man to keep on your side and gets the jobs done indeed." It was at this point that a younger woman dressed in a simple white shirt and black skirt came in through an as-of-yet unseen side door bearing a tray of beverages and snacks. "I must admit, I haven't met many IPG before. Always very interesting people." Insing continued, reaching for a mug of brown liquid from the girl while shooting her a thankful wink. Underneath the tray she was carrying could be seen a still-sealed box for a EM-G8 Type 33 Datapad.

A couple of minutes passed of niceties before the heavy door to the shielded room swung open with a loud hiss. The man, stepping out, had his hazmat helmet nestled under one arm and stood stoicly until Insing noticed him. "Ah! Excellent! All seems to be in order, Justin." Without a word of command, the larger security guy stepped to join the two other men, holding up the case. Barmor reached around and patted his pockets for a moment until he happened across a chrome key.

Placing the key into the handcuff, he turned it with a snap, the suitcase now free as the metal hoop came away. "It's all yours, all eighty thousand DA. Worth every penny as far as we're concerned." Barmor finished, handing the key off to the now-suitcaseless man as the case of cash was given to Justin. "Pleasure doing business, Mr. McCallum - we'll stay in touch."

 
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