RP: IPG [IPG Operators] Preliminary Affairs

Nelew followed the others up the ramp. Her mind was set on how she was going to perform this mission, so there was little else to think about. Her passive sensory boundary was set and unchanged as they entered the Malchick class ship and nothing was tagged as a threat.

With nearly nothing else to do, the pale woman practiced her armor formation under her uniform. Chitinous armor plating formed and retracted over her shoulder blades, along her spine, over her forearms and upper arms and her thighs and shins, as well as flowing out from center of her chest. The latter formed under her skin, solidifying her rib cage into a solid, but light and thin, but durable, mass of armor. As each piece formed, she fine-tuned the shapes and composition of each before retracting them, then removing their existence from her body by reabsorbing the materials they had been constructed of. The plates were thin and light, very hard to notice unless one bumped her, but they could prevent damage from blades. It was little more than a deterrent for firearms, though, not providing much protection for more than glancing shots until she learned how to further strengthen the material. When the rib modification came back approved, she made a mental note to investigate further sub-dermal arrangements.

After going up the ramp, she entered the ship and looked around. When the others stopped, though, she stopped as well and returned her attention to Flins.

Alaster glanced at the interior of the Malchick as he boarded. The Initiate let out a low whistle of approval, along with a silent nod. The man liked the outer look of the craft, and he wondered if the interior also would impress him.

Although the fact he was going to a world Yamatai had or rather was around unsettled him slightly. The cats weren't known around Nepleslia (At least the parts he'd been to) for their sparkling diplomacy and courteousness in regards to alien species. While what the Commodore said had assuaged some of the nagging questions in the back of his mind, Alaster couldn't help but ponder on just what could happen with this mission.

Following the others, Athrylis wandered up the ramp while gazing around at the various sites. She should've guessed that the IPG would have diguised ships, but it never did occur to her. Turning her attention back, the initiate gazed up at the rather impressive ship, with an ever so slight sense of amazement though it didn't show externally.

Once inside, she continued to follow behind.

Once the Initiates had boarded, the ramp itself back into the ship and sealed it against that rather cold bit called space. Power and fuel lines were pulled from the perfectly black vessel before it slowly lifted off from the platform and began to edge forward.

The intercom switched on across the ship. "Good evening Initiates and shipmen. We are currently leaving the dock at Rok'Veru and will exit the atmosphere shortly. ETA at operation zone is two hours."

As the captain finished on the intercom, the Malchick's massive ion engines kicked in, pushing the ship into high gear, and into the massive tunnels leading from the HQ. It shot into the central of the three, a straightaway for two dozen kilometers, before banking upwards and straight into the night.

The Malchick emerged from the tunnel at somewhere around mach 3, engaged its stealth systems, and accelerated right into space. As it disappeared, the tunnel quickly and quietly sealed itself once more, replacing a serene, if unusually massive, clearing in the middle of a remote forest.

The ship broke the atmosphere minutes later. As it did, it changed course towards a large freighter, commandeered by the IPG with plenty of fake civilian documentation. The Kire spun and drifted towards the top of the larger ship. At the transmission of a signal, a huge magnetic plate custom-installed on the bow of the ship activated, which the Malchick set down on with expert precision. The freighter didn't even slow down.

Once the Malchick was secured, the Freighter engaged its fold drive, and they disappeared into the black.

Chandler observed the event from a monitor he had called up from the Ship's AI.

"Wow, that was pretty snazzy." The marine-turned-spy said, before heading to one of the bunks to wait out the arrival of the freighter and the Kire in-system.

Nel watched Chandler as the man once again left without Flins' dismissal. She stayed where she was, waiting to either be given further orders or released to do...something. She wasn't sure what she would do if given free time; if given nothing Nelew would probably stand there the entire two hour trip.

About half an hour after the Kire entered Hyperspace fold, the intercom switched on throughout the ship. It was the ship's captain once more.

"All Initiates report to the Armor Bays. Be ready to suit up when you get there."

As the intercom boomed, Flins entered the armor bay, along with several technicians. He nodded to Nelew as he continued to one of the many large, dark metal lockers. He punched in a code on the keypad and the locker slid open. Inside, a suit of black armor was set into the heavy foam interior of the locker.

"Initiate Nelew, you were here first. Are you ready to suit up?" Flins asked his student.

The Britivas weren't anything Nelew had seen in person before, and she hadn't had any information to go over concerning them. The passive scan returned little, mostly things she knew nothing about, but the data on the traits of visible materials (given placeholder names since she didn't know their actual ones), the armor's structuring, and so on were stored for later analysis and sorting. This was all done while appearing to anyone else that she was staring at the armors.

"If you are certain that my presence will not be harmful to the completion of this mission, I am ready," she said after a few seconds, turning her eyes to Flins.

"Nelew, you'll do just fine if you just follow Flins' lead, stay calm and do your best not to freak out like you did back on the first mission. If you have any questions, please direct them towards either Alaster or myself." Chandler said as he hopped into one of the Britva Mk. IIs.

"Well, this definitely isn't a new feeling..." Chandler said as he started moving the armor around the hangar bay. "I guess it sort of paid off that I served in the Marine Corps."

Nel heard, but didn't acknowledge Chandler, instead waiting for Flins' response.

Lenz silently stood by behind Nelew and the others, watching the strange new armor curiously. It wasn't like the other suits he had ever seen before, so he waited to be briefed on what the black suit of armor was and how it operated.

Chandler quickly finished his daydream about what the Britva II would be like before actually yanking open a locker.

The Britva Mk. II was hung in the locker before him; an intimidating piece of equipment he would never be able to put on himself. So, for now, he just stood awkwardly in front of the open locker.

"Oh, this is nothing like the WATERs..."

Alaster patted Chandler on the arm and smiled slightly. "So, you were a WATER pilot? I was in the VOID myself. This armor reminds me of them, to some limited degree." The larger man said as he looked at the suit of armor now, eyes alight with attention and curiosity. After all, he was a former Marine, and enjoyed seeing "new toys" at work.

Cyrene seemed to loose focus for a moment, sinking her shoulder down gently, as she searched for the relevant data on the armors they were going to be using. Finished, she seemed to perform the inverse action, quickly snapping to attention.

"The Britva is an ultralight powered armor, of the same technological generation as the equally restricted NOZH and mass production VOID unit. It's worn more in the manner of a second skin or riot gear, than the armored shell of more conventional NAM powered armor." She said blankly, before beginning to suit up in her armor.

Chandler turned towards Alaster as his squad leader patted him on the shoulder.

"Yeah, 6th Assault Fleet, Delta Squad. The leader said that I was probably the best sniper he'd ever seen and, with some work, I could probably make the Blackguard. But the IPG sent me an offer a few hours after the Kennwes invasion, and with a paycheck with that many 0s in it, how could I refuse?" The smaller man sighed to himself.

"But there've been times when I wished I was back there... Like at the briefing. We never covered combat in a plague-infested city."

Alaster chuckled at both Cyrene, offering the woman a genuine smile of amusement, and one to Chandler as well.

"Well then, just like my old CO use to tell us, "Keep the damn helmet on or its your ass." "He recited with a shake of his head. "Just so happened once one of our squad was shot through the skull from a sniper for taking his helmet off. Same rules apply here, but without the bullets, and the word plague instead. Just keep the suit on, and make sure you're suit's integrity remains green."

The Initiate said before he moved to his own Britva Mk ll and began to suit up. "And you are right Ms. Veles, however, it also has a little bulk to it, and still reminds me of the VOID. The paint job is a giveaway."

"Initiate Chandler, I recall our commanding officer simply stating that getting infected by any means, you would be left behind. Just remember to use cover more than your armor, as the Britva doesn't have much more than three inches of suit protecting you from the environment." Cyrene said coldly, already completely suited up, sans helmet and rifle. She seemed to be not quite hostile to him, but it seemed doubtful to her, and anyone with a pair of functional eyes and ears, that she would ever really warm up to him. "Keeping your helmet on would also go without saying."

Chandler sighed and turned towards his cold, semicybernetic counterpart.

"Look, Cyrene, I know you're Veles' daughter and all, but I have one thing to say. It's called a sense of humor. I suggest you get one, because otherwise our time together will be one long, dragged out sermon of back-and-forth military intelligence. Now I'm all for proper intelligence, but if it's nothing but a long spiel of code and numbers it's going to be drier than the Delsauria desert in the humor department."

"We're not here for social formalities, Initiate Chandler, we're here doing a job," Lenz stated rather plainly in Chandler's direction as he was helped by a technician into his Britva armor. "Once you get your head for the covert part of it, then we'll all be allowed to dick around and bullshit but for now, we're not here to have fun... if you wanted to grab your dick and make piss and fart jokes, you got yourself into the wrong organization. You get sloppy and people die."

Athrylis stood idly by as she waited for her 'turn' to get helped into one of the Britvas. She was still unsure about this supposed power armor, much different than any other ones she's seen, with her reluctance amplified by the fact she's had essentially no experience with any such technology. Although, some of this feeling within her was slightly calmed when she overheard Cyrene calling it more of a second skin.