The Clockwork Mansion

There was a soft hiss as the Control Center door opened and an engineer entered, holding a thick folder.

"Overseer, I have the files you asked for."
"Excellent. Hand them here, would you?"

The old engineer nodded, passing the folder over to the Overseer.

The Overseer was himself getting on a bit, perhaps in his mid or late 40s and starting to show grey hair here and there. Nevertheless, he kept going, ensuring the every-day operations of the bunker went on without any violent outbreaks.

He laid the folder down and opened it, examining the thin sheets of semi-transparent film and laying them down on the white table in front of him so he could read them.

"Ah, perfect. Just the people for an expedition, I think. Call them in, would you?"
"Of course, sir."

The engineer picked up a PA mic from the table, checking the system was still functional. A loud whine of feedback filled the bunker, then there was silence again.

"Uhhhh, sorry about that, folks. Would Dr. Nickolas "457782-B" Moskawitz, Ephrael Falco, GPR-M6 "Spork", Caden Brighton, uhhh... how do I say this one... goddamn machines, uhm.. ITOS? Jo? Oh, and Jean Arnage... all report to the Bunker Control Center as soon as possible at the Overseer's request. Thank you."

A soft *click* indicated the PA had been turned off as the Engineer put the mic down.

[And now we wait.] thought the Overseer...

~~

Somber/Terra Sheer:

It's been a hard trek through the wastelands over the past week or so, since your flight past the Cordon at the Northeast Mountain Checkpoint... ah hell, don't kid yourself, it was abandoned anyway. You remember stopping for the night at the checkpoint and examining a map there. To the southwest of the checkpoint is what appears to have been a large town. A large red square to the west of the checkpoint's position caught your attention, and made you mighty curious as to what could be there. A few moments later, you even found a message recorder, presumably left by the previous guards.

Unable to suppress your curiousity, you listened to it.

"This is Captain Richter of the Northeast Mountain Checkpoint, Fahlburg Mountain Ranges.

Day... hell I don't know what day it is any more. We've been sitting here for far too long waiting for any hope of any other survivors or help from the North. I've ordered the men to pack up. Lots of supplies so we can keep going. Our only hope is to head further west into the mountains. We think there's a bunker to the West. I've marked the location on the wall map for any others who find this recording and listen to it.

Please, if you find this recording, head West. Whatever you do, stay alert at all times. My men talk of things moving in the shadows and vehicles to the south. I wonder if the radiation is making them go insane, but... there was talk of something going down in Fahlburg that would help them win the war. It wasn't finished in time, and had to be shut away. People think it broke out. I've seen moving lights, climbing around the mountains. But they didn't look anything like people or vehicles I've ever seen. Strange noises at night too. Not just howls from the mutant dogs... screams of dying men, gunfire... sometimes even explosions.

Whatever you do, head west, find the bunker. Even if none of us make it there, someone has to. I expect they will be leaving their bunker soon. I only hope we can get there in time.

Captain Richter out."

A chilling message indeed. Spending the rest of the night in your beaten up old military truck that passes for conveyance in this region, you don't get much sleep. The night is quiet, thankfully. You eventually get some sleep, and decide to head out west once the sun rises.

Following the road, you eventually make it to a junction. You barely even notice the remains of two burnt out supply trucks, scattered with debris and still-burning fires. Only as you are past do you realise they may well have been Richter and his men. Nobody could have survived what happened there, much less any equipment. To the south, you can see the town. The road extends north into the mountains, following a faintly winding path to a faint shine of silver in the sunlight. Heading north, your truck makes a horrible grinding sound and lurches suddenly with a loud metallic crunch, grinding to a halt. Inspecting the damage, it appears the main driveshaft has kicked the bucket and torn itself apart in several places.

What do you do next?

Control Center

Ephrael perked her ears up as she heard the door hiss open, sliding back into the shadow she was about to spring from. "Hmmm." she murmered, as she listened to the enginer and the Overseer talking. After the PA anouncement, (the feedback making her grimace in pain as she was directly below the speaker for the room) she padded forward and spoke into the overseer's ear in a sultry voice. "You rang?"

The engineer's message traveled through the communication system of the bunker, going through Johanna's main servers. Johanna identified the message as public and analysed it while passing it on to the speakers in the bunker.

"Jo. Bunker Control Center. ASAP." she thought and contacted one of the flying cameras that she had patrolling the bunker. Normally she would have contacted the Overseer through the communication system but she had noticed that it was easier for people to talk to a flying camera than to a speaker on the wall.

The two fans on the sides of the camera twisted and the camera accelerated down the corridor. It didn't take long to get to the control center.

"You called?" She asked with her usual, calm voice as she entered the room.

Dr. Moskawitz finished applying a bandage to a young woman's arm just as the announcement reached him. Returning to his patient long enough to advise against finding herself in the path of any more forklifts (for things could have been worse and other docters tended to be rather keen on replacement as opposed to repair). With that he limped off, his leg servoes complaining every so often, to the control center.

Control Center

"Hey bossman," Nickolas said, offering an exaggerated salute and running his laugh program (the closest he could do to a reassuring chuckle with his speakers making everything sound tinny) as he entered, "How's kicks?"

"Fezze..." she cursed softly as she heard the bang under her seat, followed by the grinding and clanking of metal.  Bearing her teeth, she wrinkled her nose at the acrid scent coming from under the hood.  It was either the generator or the drive train... or if her luck was holding... both.  Protectorate equipment wasn't pretty or advanced, but it was made to run forever.  When it busted, it stayed broke.

It took her an hour to verify that the truck was dead.  Maybe if she tipped it on to its side she could have tried to spot weld something... no, the transaxle was also fractured.  "Fezzerrshrek!" She cursed and gave the truck a solid thump on its underside before she pulled herself out from under the vehicle, as if it were a lover she'd found betrayed her.  "You were supposed to get me back to that pit of a town and THEN die on me.  And now you leave me here, alone?  The engagement is over!"

There wasn't much else to be done.  So far she hadn't found a score.  Salvaging the post and those two transports had yielded all of squat.  It was time to hoof it... so to speak.  Fortunately her rust red and brown Protectorate uniform... also designed to last for ever no matter how much she wanted to replace it, served as decent enough covering from the harsh sun over head.  Shouldering her pack,with rations, water, and what gear she had; she began her trek up the road.  In one ear she had an ear piece she'd wired to a radio on her back designed to pick up people talking to each other.

"Better be something with wheels at this bunker.  I'm not tromping all over the fezzing badlands for long."  She muttered as she kept a wary eye at her desolate surroundings.

Apon hearing the summons to the control center, Spork promptly stops work on the AC system in a Blue-3 sector corridor.  Returning his equipment carfuly to its propper position in the wall mounted locker, he makes his way towards the command center.

Control Center

The doors slide open with a hiss and Spork walks in.
Silent amidst the whrr and click of the equipment, he waits for Overseer to explain the unusual distraction from normal duty. 
With increasing suspicion, Spork lets his gaze drift over the others in the room, contemplating the reasoning behind the others presence.

"Shrep..." Terra muttered as she kelt on the edge of a crater, looking down at the green water at the base.  She fumbled in her pocket, pulling out a metal box and holding it down towards the ground.  A warning beep confirmed her instincts... the ground was hot.  Likely a depleted uranium artillery shell... and she sighed and backed away.  The rads might be low but there was a world of difference between standing on a pile of cyanide and taking a sip.  She pulled her canteen from her hip and took a sip to slow dehydration as well as she could.

The mountains were much closer now.  She could see that there'd once been some kind of community here, shattered and jumbled into ruin.  Had her situation been different she'd have eagerly poked around, but without transportation and without clean water... she turned her back and continued up the cracked and pitted road.  Theoretically this was where that patrol had been heading... but in reality she only hoped to be on the right path.  The war had rearraged land marks to make a map useless save in the vaguest sense, and right now she didn't even have a vague notion.

The Fahlberg bunkers were legendary in the Protectorate.  She'd never seen one herself, but they were reputed to be impregnable bases and automated factories designed to keep the war going.  Even when the technological and industrial giants resorted to their NBC 'super weapons' the bunkers and redoubts were designed to survive.  Honestly, she had no idea what she would do if she did find it.  She'd just have to improvise.

She huffed up the winding road.  She always hated walking.  Even when she'd been in the state academy hiking three miles a day, she loathed every step.  If nature had intended people to walk everywhere then it wouldn't have evolved the internal combustion engine.  Still there wasn't much else to do but walk... and walk... and walk...

"Fezze... there better be something at the end of this road."

Somber

[[Keeping Somber's side going whilst everyone groups at the CC, a little time trickery going on here... this is, technically, the future. Don't ask how I'm going to keep track of this.]]

As you head north, it's easier and easier to see the bunker up ahead, and soon enough you're standing within a sheltered compound/courtyard in front of the main doors. Getting in was easy enough... none of the doors were locked. Although getting past the vehicle gates could be an issue.

They seem unlikely to open from the outside, two massive reinforced metal bulkheads split by a thin diagonal seam, the edge clearly marked by yellow and black hazard-indicating paint. The doors themselves are blank and featureless, apart from faint grooves and scores etched into their surface by sandstorms, and C-17 written on them in large black letters, likewise worn and faded from sandstorms and general weathering.

There are several small structures scattered around in front of the bunker, inside the courtyard/compound. They look abandoned and empty for the most part, likely temporary housing before everyone was moved permanently inside, and to be used as a staging area for departure.

Several strange metallic canisters dug firmly into the ground catch your eye. Further investigation shows them to have several removeable panels (although you haven't the tools to remove them), and that the tops apparently pop up, although how you cannot tell. Easily mistaken for oversized and half-buried fuel-drums, reading the faint markings still left on one of these strange devices gives a clear indication of what they are. "Fahlbu-- --ntra- Sec--ity Civ---an Is--- Sentry Tur--t."

Fortunately, they seem quiet enough for the time being.

It's still fairly early, and the bunker doesn't seem to be showing any signs of opening... and you're pretty sure you'd hear it if it did start opening. Guess you'll have to entertain yourself until then!

~~

[[And for everyone else.]]

"Good to see you getting here so fast, people... now all we need is Mr. Caden and Mr. Jean. Then I can begin with the matters at hand. If you want to get up to speed, grab one of the plastisheets from the table. I'm sure you know how to operate them by now, but if not, just press them firmly against a surface for a couple of seconds and the entire sheet will turn opaque, so you needn't lay them down on a table. The file should already be in your database, Jo. Number 52-52-09."

The Overseer gestures to several identical plastic sheets, of the same film-like material as displayed before. Each seems to have a short history report, along with details of location points of interest... obviously written for scavengers and salvagers, though... anyone looking back up at the Overseer will have their gaze met by a smirk before he turns back to looking at the last two plastisheets on the people he called for.

Le Center de la Control
Late as usual, Jean slipped through the sliding doors, hoping not to be seen entering late, before realizing how pointless that endevour would be. 

"Terribly sorry, sorry, my bad, all that", Jean said under his breath, walking over to the table the Overseer had mentioned, looking at the neat little pile of sheets.

"So, what's this mess all about?"

"Uhhhh, sorry about that, folks. Would Dr. Nickolas "457782-B" Moskawitz, Ephrael Falco, GPR-M6 "Spork", Caden Brighton, uhhh... how do I say this one... goddamn machines, uhm.. ITOS? Jo? Oh, and Jean Arnage... all report to the Bunker Control Center as soon as possible at the Overseer's request. Thank you."


Sitting crosslegged upon a mat in a dark portion of his room, Caden slowly opened his eyes and regarded the speaker that was placed strategically by the designers to disrupt his meditations, or at least he thought of it that way.

Grabbing a quick shower and taking his time to get ready, the jackal slipped on a pair of BDU pants and pulled a plain black t-shirt over his head.  Shaking damp blond hair out of his face, Caden stared deeply into the his violet eyes.  Not a normal or natural color his father had said to him many a time, now his father was many years dead and his world was a rolling scene of chaos and conflict.

Not anyone natural or normal is needed in this world now, hopefully I fit the bill.

Grabbing a bomber jacket, Caden tossed open his door and was out of the room and into the hall before it slammed shut and auto-locked.  Quietly he walked, not saying anything to those whom he passed in the halls and anyone who recognized him knew better then to talk to him when he moved with purpose.

Control Center

The door to CC slid open with the characteristic hiss and Caden found himself to be fashionably late as usual.  He slipped into the back of the room, speaking to no one for the moment.  He merely observed, taking stock of whom had been assembled with him.

The prospects made him frown slightly, this would not be easy.

Control Center

Ephrael pouted as the Overseer showed no surprise at her presence. 'Damnit that man always seems to know where I am...'

Winking at the engineer, she picked up one of the plastisheets from the table. pressting it against the table she waited till the sheet responded. Pulling her mirrored glasses out she sat down in the front row and began to read.

She waved to Dr Nick and Jo as they entered and went back to reading.

Control Center

After listening to the Overseer, Johanna cracked the digital seal on file 52-52-09 and deciphered it. She already knew most of the things inside it but from the way it was composed she could guess the nature of their task and scavenging was not her thing.

When Johanna was created she was programmed to help rebuild networks that would have been destroyed in a war. Reestablishing contact with her brothers and sisters would be a good first step in that.

"Sir, what about other survivors?" She asked.

"As you say, bossman," Nickolas picked up a sheet and pressed it to the table, resisting the urge to make a paper airplane out of it, "So, what we got here then..."

"Well, now you're all here... it's time," he smiled as he looked up "Time to start rebuilding Fahlburg. Or more precisely, I should say, you're all going on a trip out of the Bunker for a bit. I don't know how informed you all are on our stockpile status, but there were... grave miscalculations. Food supplies have been dwindling over the last three months. This bunker was meant to last at least three more years, but apparently wasn't supplied for all of that. I estimate we'll be out of food by this time next year, perhaps sooner. This is a major concern to me, and I'm surprised you didn't notice sooner, Jo."

"Now your goal should be obvious enough. Primary concern is finding more food. Use any means necessary. You may wonder how you're going to cover enough ground and transport enough food... well, wonder no more."

He activates the holodisplay, a rotating wireframe of a large wheeled vehicle appearing. It looks similar to a Heavy Expanded Mobility Tactical Truck (HEMTT) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heavy_Expanded_Mobility_Tactical_Truck) albeit longer and larger and somewhat segmented, with a flexible joint between each of the segments. It seems clearly split into four sections, and the Overseer points them all out;

1. Driver's cabin. Seats six. Heavily armoured compartment. Amazingly, the GPS still works.
2. Rest Quarters. Cramped compartment with four bunkbeds. Not particularly pleasant, but safe from all but tank cannons. Or anyone who knows the door key combination.
3. Reactor & Crane Assembly. Standard Fahlburg-design Fusion Reactor. Supplies power to the vehicle, and keeps the quarters nice and warm. Crane is compact, but strong.
4. Finally, on the end, taking up most of the vehicle, the Cargo 'Bay'. Plenty of space for anything you might pick up. Split into three sections, each of which can be set to work as a freezer, or just as cargo space.

"You'll be leaving soon. Get yourself to the Vehicle Bay. Jo, you're going with them because I know you're familiar with our technology, and if nothing else, you should be able to kickstart some stuff that's gone down."

"Whilst you're out there, gentlemen, feel free to bring back some souvenirs. Maybe send us a postcard? The overseer chuckles.

Who said I didn't notice... Johanna thought to herself but she had to admit she was partly to blame for the lack of food. One of too many bugs in her system that never got fixed before the war made her base the calculations on the lowest possible food intake. Not really realistic.

"I'll make sure to send you some pictures." Johanna said, taking the joke as an order to send back reports.

Not that she understood why he wanted reports, he never seemed to read hers. Periodical fluctuations in the powergrid and Rust damages that will need repairing within the next 150 years were never even opened. Maybe it was because they didn't have any pictures?

"Meshimega fezzerrshreking faggarging piece of drek DOOR!" She screamed at the door for the twentieth time.  "Open!  Open!  Smegging open!"  And for the twentieth time she smacked it with a metal bar she'd found.  It may not have been an effective tool, but it was definitely much more satisfying.  Her tool kit had proven to be absolutely worthless on the turrets... oh she worked out that much at least.  Like the door, they too seemed to rebuff her attempts at entry with imagined smugness.  She sighed as she slumped against it.  She knew for a fact that her water wouldn't get her anywhere on foot, and for all she knew on the far side of the door was a caved in space.  But it was a hope... a futile hope... that kept her rodent brain going around in circles.

She stood back up and walked into one of the abandoned buildings, looking at the smashed remains of a computer.  Obviously from an earlier scavenger, who'd taken anything and everything of value.  But he hadn't taken the wires... well... not all of them.  Six inches jutted from the wall.  She looked at them for a while and rubbed her chin.  Maybe they went some where in particular... like on the other side of the door?

She sat crosslegged as she opened up her tool kit and her radiation sensor, carefully connecting it to the wires jutting from the wall.  "Here goes nothing..." she said as she began to tap the wire to the battery.  It wasn't a complex signal... but hopefully it would be making something blink inside the bunker.  Something that would tell the occupants within that there was some one out here fezzeing with the remains of their system.

"Hurry up and stop me and bring a canteen when you do..." she muttered.

"Yeah, mebbe go down to south beach, send you postcards of mutant chicks in bikinis with 'wish you were here' on 'em," Nickolas laughed as he headed out the door to the Vehicle Bay, "Can't wait to check out these sweet wheels you've set us up with, bossman."

As the others began to file out towards the vehicle bay, Caden approached the overseer and cleared his throat.  Quietly he spoke his question, "what manner of equipment are we receiving for this expedition?  I imagine it is hostile out there and though tough, we cannot hide in the truck all the time.  Operatives will need to brave the outside and a certain amount of defensive and offensive items will be needed to maximize survivability."

The jackal smiled slightly as he awaited an answer to his query.

Control Center

"I guess I'll got get my stuff then.." Ephrael walked up to the desk and dropped the plastisheet back on it, then turned and padded out the door heading back to her room.

Eph's Room

Glad that her roommate was out Eph unlocked her foot locker and looked at its contents. Pulling a pair of wrist sheaths out Eph, checked that the daggers they held were still sharp, satisfied she dropped them onto her bunk. Next was a blockish looking Raptor Sub-machinegun this also went on the bed as well as some clips. Lastly a pair of pistols that matched the  blocky look of the SMG and their ammunition, followed.

"I'm gonna need some body armor." She murmured as she started strapping her weapons on. "To the armory it is!" Slinging the Raptor over her shoulder, Ephrael headed out the door and to the storeroom that served as the bunker's armory.

"Um, so, uh, is there a plan, or what? I mean, you can't expect us just to, you know, randomly look, right?"

Jean had an odd looking smile on his face as he queried the Overseer.

"...right? Oh, sod it, I'm getting my stuff."

He left for the Vehicle Bay.

OOC:Edit, ahh scratch that../OOC

Spork follows the others out of the commandcenter towards the Vehicle Bay.
He is very intrested in seeing in person the vehicle that will be their 'lifesupport' for the next few months, on this journey of post-apocalyptic grocery shopping...

"You have time for a short detour to the Armoury, Mr. Caden. Your group departs within the hour, so make it quick."

~~

Those of you who make it straight to the Vehicle Bay are greeted by a bustle of orange-suited Technicians preparing the vehicles for use. There appear to be three to choose from, not that it makes much difference apart from their choice of colour scheme.

The first is painted in a dull base silver/grey coat with some basic soft blue line-markings to make it stand out. It seems to be in fairly good condition. It doesn't look particularly threatening, nor does it look particularly defensive. It could probably do with a new coat of paint, and perhaps some field modifications for armour and offensive forms of protection, but other than that... it's fairly standard.

The second is decorated with Fahlburg-design Snow Camo, presumably an ex-military vehicle, going by the faded Fahlburg Military insignias and extra armour plating... as well as the additional pintle-mounted twin HMG on the passenger-side of the cabin. It looks rather... well, offensive. Even if it isn't fast, it's pretty nasty looking, right down to the spiked bumper... say, are those spikes coated in old blood? You try not to think about that.

Finally, the third is decorated in striking bright orange and red tones, with markers on the vehicle suggesting it once belonged to one of the Fahlburg Fire Departments. Indeed, the lifting crane has been replaced with a hose arm, and one of the cargo bays is used as liquid storage. Ironically, however, the technicians seem to have adapted this system into a liquid-fuel laser-flamer hybrid. Whilst it seems to be the best choice for defensive purposes, one has to question the security of the fuel tank and the sanity of driving such a vehicle. You also suspect that fuel for the flamer part of the weapon is going to be rare. It also looks to be rather low on the defensive capabilities front, or in other words, it's armour is a bit... nonexistant.

~~

The orange jump-suited technician tapped the panel as he looked at the diagnostic.

"Dammit... this thing is glitching again."
"You sure, Mike?"
"I'm not sure, but it looks like there's something futzing the wires."

Another technician, in his distinctive blue jumpsuit, wandered over.

"It's... strange alright. The pattern of spikes is organized but I can't tell how."
"Looks like morse."
"Morse?"
"Old code, abandoned by the Fahlburg Military back in the Border Wars with the Northerners. Dots and dashes."
"How'd you know all this shit?"
"My dad was a communications engineer for Fahlburg then, you dunce."
"Ahhhh."
"So chances are it's a Northerner Scavenger."
"You think so?"
"Possible. I don't doubt they're trying to move in already."

Mike checked the other monitors.

"I don't see shit outside, nothing on the thermals neither.
"Not a military group, then. Probably some idiot scav who broke down."
"Yeah, I heard the Northerners don't make good vehicles."
"They had numbers, ingenuity and speed. But they weren't a match for the Fahlburg's Tank Divisions. Fahlburg Crusader tanks tore through 'em."
"Ouch."
"Yep. The old Northerner tanks had no chance. And that was before the Paladins arrived."
"Sounds messy.."
"Ahhh, Fahlburg. Brute Force was always the motto of the Armed Forces. Anyway, enough of this, I have to get back to my shift. Keep your eyes on the cams and tell the chief if anything else comes up."

Vehicle Bay

After chatting with the techs in the armory, Eph padded her way to the Vehicle Bay her soft soled shoes making no noise.

Spotting the snow camoed monster, she hastly snaped the last of the clips on the class 2 bodyarmor. "Now don't you look mean!" She whispered as she looked closer at it.

Vehicle Bay

In the far end of the vehicle bay a small, six weeled rover was brought to life. It's strictly functionall design showed a lot of it's structure and only sensitive parts, such as gears and electronics were covered. Style didn't matter much to Johanna, though, and with buzzing electrical motors she drove the rover over to the others that had arrived.

"I thought I'd bring this one." She said. "It was made for scouting and will allow us to search larger areas."

On the other end of the vehicle bay, one of Johanna's flying cameras had decided to see what was up with the glitching panel. She knew it was a part of the older system that was used when the bunker was being built but she didn't have access to that part of the system.

Nick had taken up station over by the ex-firetruck. "Hey, check this out!" the medbot guestured for Eph to come over and pointed up at the modified lazer. "A fire truck for pyros. Can we get this one?" He couldn't show facial expressions, but his voice was like a little kid in a candy store.

Caden nodded to the overseer and turned quickly, dashing off towards the armory.  With a few moments of negotiating the halls, Caden reached the armory in record time. 

He nodded to the person on duty, provided his ID and signed the required paperwork.  Entering, he set to immediately examining the manifest for a listing of what was listed as being stored. 

He turned to the duty person and made gave him a slight smile as he spoke, "I need a sniping weapon of some type if you have any, as well as some light or medium armor and a sidearm.  I may also need a standard rifle weapon for regular engagement actions."

 

Having toured the bay examining each vehicle seperatly, Spork approaches one of the technicians.

"Hello, do you by anychance know the technical specifications of the very intresting modification to this trucks hose assembly?"
He asks, indicatng the ex-firetruck with a quick gesture.

Vehicle Bay

Ephrael turned and looked at Dr Nick. "Are ya kidding me that thing's a firebomb waiting to go off! Nuhuh no way are you getting me in THAT!" She slaped the armor of the ex-millitary truck. "This will atleast be safe to get around in, I mean look at all that armor!"

She climed up to the drivers compartment, and opened the door to have a good look around, slinging her duffel bag onto one of the seats.

"But it's a pyro-fire truck!" Dr. Nick said again, throwing his hands in the air, "C'mon! It'd be like that Farenheight 451 story!"

Vehicle Bay

Eph poked her head back out the door and looked at Dr Nick. "Coming?..." Rasing her voice she shouted out to Jo "Which one do you like Jo?"

Vehicle Bay

"Although the fire truck may seem nice my self preservation routine tells me to avoid it ... and I can't say I'm a big fan of Ray Bradbury." Johanna said and rolled over to the ex-military one.
"This one would be good if you could paint over the military markings and remove the bumper. Alternatively, you could move as much armor plating as possible to the standard one."

Dr. Nick hunched his shoulders in what would normally be taken as a humorous sulk. He was laying it on fairly thick, on the basis that this mission would undoubtibly be stressful on all those involved. All the personel sharing that small a space ensured heightened blood pressure, stepping on each other's toes, and overall a mindset that could be just as lethal as anything else he would be called on to treat. Best try to keep things friendly. In truth, he agreed with Jo about the firetruck, but still found the concept funny (insofar as he was able to find anything funny using a criteria he'd set up based on outlandishness, wit and timing).
"Well, I've obviously been outvoted. Gotta agree about the military markings though. Any of these would stick out like a thing that sticks out, but we can at least go with the one that doesn't look like it's actively seeking a fight." He followed Eph inside and looked around. "So, this isn't the finished product, right? Before we get going we're going to add things like a water bed and spinning rims, right?"

Vehicle Bay

Jean, standing near the entrance to the bay, chimed in.

"Just wondering, folks, how much resistance are you expecting to find? I mean, it's a bloody wasteland, huh? We really need to, uh, overdress, as far as weapons go?"

Quote from: Azlan on April 07, 2007, 08:27:32 PM
Caden nodded to the overseer and turned quickly, dashing off towards the armory.  With a few moments of negotiating the halls, Caden reached the armory in record time. 

He nodded to the person on duty, provided his ID and signed the required paperwork.  Entering, he set to immediately examining the manifest for a listing of what was listed as being stored. 

He turned to the duty person and made gave him a slight smile as he spoke, "I need a sniping weapon of some type if you have any, as well as some light or medium armor and a sidearm.  I may also need a standard rifle weapon for regular engagement actions."

The Technician - a fairly generic looking fox - on duty rummages around for a few minutes before pulling a battered old L-AR out of a crate and giving it a once over.

"This old thing should do the trick. Old Beta-Pattern Sentry Laser Rifle. Beam's coherent at up to 500 meters straight off the shelf although this one's seen a bit of work I must say. Powercell should be good for another two hundred and fifty shots, and the stock holds two spares."

He then snatches up something else from inside the crate.

"Hmh. And a Viper, too. If you're not familar with that, it's a Military-grade Plasma Pistol. Little more oomph than what you might have handled before. Cell should hold for fifty shots."

The tech puts both down on the desk in front of him and grabs three spare cells for the Viper, setting them down next to it as well.

"As for armour, check the fourth locker on the left side, Row C. There should be some old Fahlburg Light Infantry Div Armour in there. It might be a little beat up but it'll save you from most kinetics and lasers. Plasmas not so good but in this day and age I doubt plasma guns will be very common."

--

Quote from: Malakin on April 07, 2007, 09:49:53 PM
Having toured the bay examining each vehicle seperatly, Spork approaches one of the technicians.

"Hello, do you by anychance know the technical specifications of the very intresting modification to this trucks hose assembly?"
He asks, indicatng the ex-firetruck with a quick gesture.

"Nah, I don't `ave the specifics `on `and, guv." the technician states in a thick, almost Cockney accent. "All I know is dat Jimmy 'n' th' lads rigged up last Friday like. I `fink dey said somethin' `bout fuel bein' hard ta` find, an` I don't doubt `em meself. Might `ave a kick to `er but that thing's a deathtrap waitin` to `appen."

"Indeed.  Is there anything of note that we should know before departing in one of these vehicles? Any quirks or problems you have had in the past with them?"

"`part from the fact they ain't been used in who knows how long they should all be good to go." replies the Technician.

Vehicle Bay - Ex-millitary Truck

Moving further back and into the sleeping module, Ephrael dropped her duffel on one of the top bunks. Walking back out to the driver's cab she patted Dr Nick on the shoulder. "Sure! why don't you go speak to the overseer about getting them fitted." She said with a cattish smile.

Jumpping to the ground she saw the tech that was talking to spork. "Excuse me," she said as she walked up. "Do you have a paint gun and black paint I can borrow?" She put on her innocent little girl act for the tech.

Outside

Terra sighed as she gave up on the wires, leaving the battery connected as she stood and walked out in front of the gate.  Either no one was home, her plan didn't work, or they didn't care to come out and stop her.  She hopped up and sat on one of the security turret drums, sitting cross legged as her chopped tail twitched back and forth behind her.  She didn't want to give up.  Her tail was a reminder not to give up.

She remembered back when she was eight and had been selected for engineering training.  Her instructor was a ferret, Colonel Marcos Deesaid.  She'd been marched out naked with ten other 'cadets' in front of the entire engineering squad and told to fix a truck.  Of course it wasn't possible.  The engine was dead as dirt, but they hadn't known that.  The lession was simple.  Failure was unacceptable... but giving up was intolerable.  One by one the cadets had given up, were strapped to a pole, and whipped.  She'd been the last.

"It can't be done!  It won't work!"  She finally said.

"you know the punishment-" the colonel had begun.

"Fine!  Lets see you do it!"  She had yelled at him.  The silence had been overwhelming.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a missing part, walking to the truck, replaced it and fixed the wiring, and then started the truck.  They'd asked for parts to fix it.  Some of them had begged for it.  But she knew the score and walked to the pole and grabbed it, waiting for the lash.  She didn't have to wait long.  By the time they were finished her back was raw and bloody.

"And a special lession."  The colonel had added, grabbing her tail and taking out his knife.  She screamed then as he sliced off the first inch of her tail.  The first of many such lessions.

Now staring at the door she felt like she was back at that truck.  There was a system in place to make it work, and she was missing the key to open it.  Only this time, instead of facing a flogging, she was looking after death of dehydration.

It would be a refreshing change of pace.

Vehicle Bay

Johanna's camera was still hovering over the Mike who had now dismantled the panel.
"It stopped." She noted. "Did you manage to track it's source?"
Johanna didn't like this, there was too many unknown factors. The message was fragmented but didn't seem hostile. If it was a trick to lure them out the best thing would be to postpone the operation for a while. If it wasn't it would be better to try to get out as soon as possible.

Control Center

"Sir." Johanna's camera said to call the attention of the Overseer. "We might have some people outside the bunker doors. I would like to send out one of my cameras to scout before the rest moves out."

Armory

"Beta-Pattern Sentry Laser Rifle, check.  One cell loaded, two spares.  Are these cells rechargeable?"  Caden checked the stock to see if it was loaded with spares already or if he had to search some out.

"Viper series Military-grade Plasma Pistol.  One loaded cell, three spares, check."  He tested the weight holding and aiming before placing it back down.

The jackal padded over to Row C and found the left side fourth locker.  The old Fahlburg Light Infantry Div Armour was indeed present, a tad bit banged up, but functional.  Pressed for time, he strapped it on as he queried the fox, "I'll need a field kit for the armor, basic minor patch and care stuff.  Just in case, I'll need something technologically simple, like a slug-thrower style firearm and some ammo if you have any.  That just leaves an all-weather sling case or such for the Sentry, to keep the weather off.  He strapped on the holster for the Viper, grabbed a pack for the ammo, sundries and the other gear he will pick up at his room.

"Could you ..."
Spork starts, however his sentace is interupted by Ephrael's request, he turns to face the distraction.
"Ah, Ephrael... I take it you have similar plans to myself for the military variant; painting over the external insignia, yes?"
Spork turns back to the technician:
"Yes.. Could you please retreive.. Two.. paint-guns and a supply of black paint for each, your assistance so far is greatly appreciated."

There are indeed two spare cells in the Sentry's stock.

"They should be rechargable from most standard outlets, and the Sentry itself has an adapter port for most non-standard power sources hidden inside the grip and an adapter cable stashed inside the stock as well. The care kit for that armour should be in the footlocker beneath it, plus a beatup old P67K in the one next to that, along with ammo. Case for the Sentry should be in the very end left locker at the start of the row, as it were."

~~

The Tech eyes the two for a moment, then yells something in an odd language that neither Ephrael nor Spork can recognize. A few moments later, a pair of Technicians come running over, carrying the desired items, hand them over and then head back to their duties.

~~

[Jo, the automated sentries should be fitted with cameras. Try using those, if they haven't rusted shut already.]

Vehicle Bay

"Thanks!" She pecks the tech on the cheek, and picks up one of the paint guns.

"I'll do the right side and work my way forward, you wanna do the left?" She said to Spork.

Nick's CPU was, in the opinions of some, a little outdated, and only now had remembered to bring up his own checklist. He'd need supplies if he was to do anything useful. He beamed a quick inventory request to the nearest computer that would know what he needed to know, in this case Jo and her uplink to most everything in the base.
Query: Medical inventory and supplies list. What shall I have to work with?

Spork collects a paintgun and replys with a stiff nod,
"Yes.. That sounds like a resonable distribution of effort for the task at hand."

He then procedes to his left hand side of the vehicle and starts work from the front to back..

Caden examined the Sentry as indicated and located the adapter, the cells were fully charged and ready.  Retrieving the case and armor kit, he quickly, but carefully packed the Sentry away and stowed the kit in his pack. 

Pulling out the P67K, he checked it out, "one round chambered, clip full, safety on."  He stowed it and its case of extra ammo in his pack.  "Thank you for the assistance, here is all the requisition paperwork for the files.  Thanks again."

He exited the armory and headed straight for his room.  The door slid open with a hiss and he stepped in.  Pausing for a second, he dwelled on the fact that this may be the last time he crosses this threshold, ever.  The weight of the weapons he carried reminded him of the dangers that might await him.

He dropped the gear near the door and systematically began pulling out everything he owned.  Securing his survival knife, basic field kit and goggles, he packed them away in the backpack.  He even found a few surplus military rations from one of his survival drills.  Picking up his pocket digital assistant, sunglasses and chronometer, Caden cleaned up his room and packed away his non-essentials.  Carefully rolling his many spare outfits to easily fit in his duffel (a technique learned in boot camp), he carefully folded and vacuum sealed a good set of clothes and even a dress uniform in case it was needed. 

Shouldering all his gear, he locked up and headed over to the vehicle bay.

Vehicle Bay

Donning the apron and goggles that came with the paint gun, Ephrael starts to black out the markings off the truck.
Reaching the front she starts coating the bumper spikes with a fresh coat.

"How are ya going Spork?" She called out.

Spotting Caden as he walked in she grined and waved.

'Weeeee we get to leave the bunker!' Her currently hyper brain thought.

Receiving Nickolas request, Johanna accessed the inventory files and began filtering out and categorizing what could be usefull for a medic. She wasn't sure if Nickolas intended to bring any weapons but added a section with less lethal and light weapons for selfdefence before sending it to him.

While doing this, Johanna continued talking to the Overseer.
"I can either send out a camera or you can grant me access to the sentries but I wouldn't recommend sending out an organic into a potential ambush."
Johanna didn't have so much trouble endangering hardware since she didn't risk loosing her software. That was a big downside with being an organic, you only have one body.

[I'll have Mack wire you through now, Jo. This might feel a little... unusual. The sentry units are armed, but won't fire unless you sent an Override 7-7-0 through Port 50. They're little more than oversized armoured bins with popup turrets inside.]

If an AI had a spine, it would feel a distinct shiver run down it as the new network was opened to it's attentions. Whilst the Sentries were usually under the control of Mack ("That's General Mackintosh to you, son.") - a military defensive AI who spent most of his time impersonating Fahlburg Generals and chewing on holographic cigars - he had been rather bored as of late with nothing to shoot.

[A`ight kid, you're wired into the sentries. Don't break anythin' or anyone, ya hear?]

All the sentries showed green across the board, right up to the two Titan sentries that guarded the main gate, disguised as guard post towers, the secondary Goliath sentries at the wall corners, again disguised as guard post towers, and the numerous Terrapin (known amongst infantry forces as the "terror-bin", due to their accuracy and rate of fire) sentries littering the courtyards and also built into the walls as defensive measures.

Having just finished spork puts down his paint gun and wipes his hands on the discarded apron next to him.
While he does this, Spork takes a step back to consider the truck, thinking of ways to make the pintle mounted guns less obvious.

"I have finished applying paint to this side of the vehicle. Do you require any assistance?"
He answers in response to Ephrael's query.

Vehicle Bay

"Nah I'm done here." Ephrael says as she finishes. Turning off the paintgun, she takes of the goggles and apron and hangs them back on it.

Returning the equipment to the tech she thanks him and walks back to the truck.

Outside

Terra shivered despite the hot, dry air.  She could feel spiders running along her spine and slowly turned her head towards the abandoned guard towers.  Was it just her imagination or was did her ears detect the soft grind of servos moving?  She slipped off the turret, moving into the middle of the court yard as she looked for the source.  Fahlbergian defense technology had been a nightmare for the less technically advanced Protectorate.  Difficult to detect, deadly to recieve, it had kept the Protectorate firmly out of the conflict until the end when everything broke down.  Rumor had it that it took an orbital ballistic kinetic kill weapon to smash the Fahlberg central command.  No one knew for sure.  No one had gone that deep into the badlands as far as she knew.

That little survival instinct in the back of her head was now firmly informing her that now would be a good time to walk slowly away from the bunker.  Reason argued that with her lack of water, where could she go?  The instinct then began to scream incoherantly about how she was going to die.  Still, she remained where she stood.  She'd wanted to get the attention of some one inside.  Besides, how threatening could she be?  Sure, she wore a protectorate uniform, but no one with sense could confuse her with a soldier.  She had holes patched with duct tape!

She swallowed her throat hard several times and then called out as loudly as she could, "Hello?!  Is anything listening?"

Nick was suprised at the list of light weapons, but somewhat saw the necessity. After all, the most integral aspect of healing is prevention of damage in the first place. Thank you, Jo. He cut off the link as Eph reentered and headed toward the sections in the back, to check out all those nifty rooms that the Overseer had promised. The crane looked like it was in decent condition, but then the good doctor was more of an expert in bone and sinew than motors and steel. He could barely repair himself on a good day.
"By the way, I call dibs on one of the top bunks!" The bot joked. Keep the good mood going, things will be fine.

Johanna was familiar with the feeling of having a new network opened up to her. Her secondary function was to rebuild such networks.
"I'll hand over control to Mack if it comes to shooting." She said and took a look at the layout of the defences. She wanted to reveal as few of the guns as possible but still cover all angles.

The servos of some of the Terrapins began buzzing but the turrets didn't move. The joints were probably a bit stiff from all the years just standing there. Johanna increased the power to the servos and the lids were slowly forced open with a creaking sound. As soon as the sensors could peer outside it was clear that someone was out there. A female, protectorate uniform, lots of technical equipment. The rat girl didn't look so threatening, more like ... Johanna did a more detailed scan, more like ready to collaps or flee. After making sure there was no more people around Johanna activated a speaker.

"I'm listening." She replied, with her usual calm voice, to Terras question. "So speak."

She jumped as the voice squalked out, then clenched her jaw and took a deep breath.  "Hi.  I am Terra Sheer and I am formally surrendering to the Fahlberg republic.  As a prisoner of war I an entitled to subsistience until I can be returned to the Chalen Protectorate.  Particularly water."  She added as she smacked her dry lips, putting her hands up.  "I'm alone and unarmed... and if you guys would rather I go away... well... give me a few containers of water and I'll be off.  Don't even have to waste the bullets."  She took off her jacket and tossed it aside.  "I'll even strip if you want me to prove I'm not carrying an IED."  Yeah, she REALLY wanted that water.

This was a problem. C-17 was a civilian bunker, not a POW camp and from what Johanna could tell Terra wouldn't be able to get to the closes military bunker without help. Moreover, they couldn't just hand out suplies to everyone that came knocking on their doors.
If Johanna had been an organic she would now had sighed.

Control Center

In the Control Center a view of the courtyard and Terra was up on one of the monitors.
"Sir, there is a chance you won't like this suggestion but... " Johanna took a short pause going over the possible reaction that could come from the Overseer before she continued.
"We can make her a deal. We let her in and give her water if she helps us scavenge. That way we won't hand out supplies for nothing. Before we return we drop her off near a military bunker where she can surrender. That way we don't have to turn this bunker into a POW camp. Unless we want her dead it seems like the best solution."
Over the network Johanna asked Mack if this would break any regulation. She was a bit worried that Mack would just want to shoot Terra on the spot but since she had surrendered it seemed unlikely that he would be allowed to do that.

Spork, finaly making up his mind, collects the painting gear and returns it to the Tech.

"Hello.
Do you have a tarpaulin or similar covering at your disposal?
It is required to be large enough to cover the pintle mounted guns on the military variant.
We also require a means to fasten the tarpaulin to the vehicle that is quick to remove."

Caden had a lopsided expression across his muzzle as he stared at the painted truck and wrinkled his nose at the paint fumes.

"So when do we leave?"  He put his gear down and had a seat.  He had skipped breakfast in his fervor to gear up and was tired of lugging it around.

Vehicle Bay

"Nick and Jean have to get their stuff first and... " Johanna hesitated. Should she tell them? She has to at some point, might as well do it now. " ... and there is a visitor outside the bunker doors. She is from the Chalen Protectorate but wants to surrender. She shows signs of dehydration and will not make it to the nearest military bunker without help. I have suggested that she could help us in our mission in exchange for water and a ride to the nearest military bunker but I guess you should have a word in this too." Johanna sent the summary through the speakers in the vehicle too so that the others could hear too.

Outside

"This is a civilian bunker." Johanna said. "Please hold while we decide what to do."

She blinked in the direction of the speaker.  They'd taken her seriously about surrendering?  Fahlberg was gone.  Blasted.  Nuked.  Cratered.  Gone!  Didn't the people inside realize that?  They had had chunks of real estate relocated into orbit!  You can't get more gone than that!

"Look.  All I really need is water and any anti-radiation stuff you can spare.  I'll trade in information and be on my way."  She put on what she hoped was her most convincing smile, "Trust me.  The sooner I'm out of the badlands the better."

"Right, my stuff..." Nick mimed scratching the back of his head sheepishly. It didn't actually itch, but with this personality thing the devil's in the details. Query: Johanna, where are my supplies?

[Jo, our major concern right now is food. If nothing else our little friend out there might be more familiar with the terrain than any of us in here and Fahlburg SatNet is still a bit wobbly thanks to the Enterian Electrical Aerospray that's been interfering with the reception for the last six years.]

[The Fahlburg Security Institute, in all their glory, decided not to give us decent maps of where other bunkers are located. We have the locations of several other Civilian Bunkers, but no locations on Military Bunkers. I can understand their concerns as they would not want an easily-raided Civilian Bunker like ours to be containing important military information.]

[Whilst I doubt the Directorate has plans for immediate resurfacing, SatNet is still working and shows Fahlburg Central Command as being more than a little damaged, but I don't think it's dead. I've been watching it for several days now, and it's a real hotspot... with the radiation levels dying down I expect the rest of the Chalen Protectorate to start moving in because they're all a bunch of dirty scavengers and have probably been waiting a long time to get their own back on Fahlburg Central Command.]

~~

The `tech gestures towards a pile of weather-proofed sheets in the corner and returns to his work.

Vehicle Bay

Sitting on the ladder to the passinger compartment, Eph watched as everyone did their things.

Spork nods and grabs one of the sheets from the pile, after checking that it is the right size he rolls it up and finds a second sheet of the same dimensions before grabing some elastic fasteners to go with them.
With his newly acquired items, Spork heads back to the chosen truck and climbs into the front compartment.
After managing to squeeze the sheets up and onto the roof, he begins straping the rolls of tarpaulin down next to the hatch out of the way.

With the sheets and paint job done, spork considers what else needs to be done before leaving...

Vehicle Bay

Probably in the storage room, armory and med bay. Unless you asked for it to be delivered when you sent the request forms, in which case it should be here any moment now. Johanna replied to Nickolas.

"Those who have nothing else to do can follow me to the entrance and greet our visitor." Johanna said and began driving up the ramp that went from the vehicle bay to the entrance.

"We have a visitor Jo? We going out hard, or just talking?" Ephrael played with the clip holing one of the pistols as she stood up, a strange glint to her eyes...If you could see them behind the mirrored glasses.

"Like I said just moments ago..." Johanna said with as much irritation her voicefilter could generate (not much in other words). "She is from the Chalen Protectorate but wants to surrender. She shows signs of dehydration and will not make it anywhere without help. I suggested that we could give her water if she helped us scavenge and since none of you objected I assumed that you approved."

Johanna could partly understand why people ignored her reports but this was important information.

Looking sheepishly at Jo, Eph apologised. "Sorry Jo, I wasn't listening the first time, I'll go with you."

Spork hops down from the top of the vehicle, landing next to Johanna and Ephrael with a soft thump.
"I will accompany you. 
However accepting such a person into our group is dangerous, I do not approve of such action.
But if the Overseer deems it necessary, then I can not disagree."

"I'll be along in a bit, I got stuff to fetch," Nick clambered down from inside the vehicle and went down to the storage room. Thank you, Johanna.

Storage room

Nickolas nodded to the guard outside the door as he entered the Storage room. He was a robot; he wasn't exactly likely to nick anything. He figured he'd stick with the basics, for the most part. Bandages, pain killers, suture and field surgery kits, disinfectant, and medicines for most common sicknesses likely to be encountered. As an afterthought he also grabbed a few vials of antivenom; there were a few venomous snakes native to the region, and wished to take no chances. Before leaving, he remembered to check the pockets of the coat he always wore to help humanize him to patients. A handful of lollypops for younger patients; not necesarily meant for this demographic, but could at minimum be good for a laugh. My owner's manual. A disc with a few personality resources by Mark Twain and Ray Bradbury I've been meaning to go over. Lint. Box of band-aids. Right then. He double checked the bag into which all his medical supplies had been placed, slung it over his shoulder, and was out the door confident that anything that wasn't in the bag he had built in.
As he left the Storage he went over Jo's list of weapons again. The idea of carrying a weapon, a tool meant for causing damage that he was a tool for repairing, was worrying. He looked down at his metal hands for a few seconds, and reached a conclusion. No guns.
With that, he began making his way back to the rest of the team.

Caden observed the rolling box for a few moments before falling in behind, he had heard what the AI had said, but chose silence as his response.

"This Chalen Protectorate female could be some type of bio-kamikaze unit, set loose on our territory to find surviving groups and eliminate them through biogenic plague they carry."  Caden commented in an off-handed way, "not that such things effect boxes on wheels."

Caden carried no weapon in hand, but his newly acquired plasma pistol and the P67K were holstered and available if needed.  As he walked behind the wheeled AI, he donned his sunglasses as he had not seen the sun in quite a time.

Caden's comment seemed a bit paranoid to Johanna.
"I find it unlikely that the Chalen Protectorate would use such weapons on targets that wouldn't effect the Fahlburg military." She said and opened the door to the entrance room. "But if you're really worried you could look for some hazard suits."

Arnage, who had followed the group to the main entrance spoke up.

"HAZMATs are in storage 4, I could get them if you want. I need to get them anyway, my stuff's down there".

Dr. Nick finally caught up with the rest of the group, and was able to pick up on the gyst of what the others were speaking of fairly quickly.
"If I can offer a suggestion? If it's that great a risk, you can always send me," Nick pointed out, raising a finger, "Medbot here. If she is carrying some custom made plague I can detect it and wont be affected, and if by some blip on the far curve of probability it does I'm expendable." Technically true; his model was considered one of the more commonplace varieties of medbot.

Caden shrugged at the comment from Johanna, "I am still walking this way am I not?" 

Arnage commented on the location of HAZMATs, "It would be good for you to get your equipment anyways, the sooner the better to get out there and do our job."

 

Stopping at the bay doors Eph turned to Jo. "Can you crack these open?"

"Probably." Johanna said and rolled up to a controll panel. Cracking the security of door wasn't the hard part. The hard part was digging through all the files to find a way to circumvent the confirmation system in the controll center. After that, deciphering the codes wouldn't take long.

"It would, however be better to ask the Controll Center to open the doors for us." She added. "I assume Nick is going out first?"

Do you know the first rule of scavening?  Know what everything is worth.  Not just moneywise.  Especially not moneywise.  If that is all you know then you'll end up doing nothing at all.  Everything was worth something.  Objects.  Information.  Lives; especially lives.  You had to know not only what they were worth to you, but to every one else.  That was the first rule of scavening.

Terra sighed as she rested against the turret.  She wondered just what was going on inside.  She hated not knowing.  Being too weak to defend herself... all right.  There were always things stronger than herself. Being too stubborn or slow, also things she could tolerate.  But ignorance was worse.  Not knowing what was going on was the surest way to be used.  To be screwed.  She pulled her hat off and rubbed out her hair as she looked at the door for the upteenth time before putting it back in place, tucking her sunburnt ears underneath the edge.  "Maybe it's like boiling water and stuff."

Ignorance had almost cost her her life the first time she'd gone into the badlands.  She'd come out of the protectorate and had immediately been swept up in a crew.  Scavenge crews were common, but perilous as she discovered the hard way.  The Fahlbergers had some truly nasty defense systems, and she had been brought along as bait.  "Go to that outpost and have a look around."  They'd watch for the turrets while she nearly got her head blown off.  Only luck had kept her alive.  Afterwards, the crew wasn't interested in splitting things six ways.  They dumped her in favor for a larger number.

"Always know the worth."  She muttered softly as she looked at the door.

Spork steps forwards after listening to the recent conversation silently.

"I will accompany Nick; One must never enter a potentially hostile situation on ones own, such a thing should only be considered if it is a distinct requirement of the mission."

"ats' right," Nick clapped his hands together (lightly; clapping with normal amounts of force didn't exactly produce a calming noise with metal hands), "Bots representin' C-17. Hoo yeah."

"So doctor Nick and Spork will go out first and make sure she is safe. Unless anyone else want to join I suggest you go now, we have kept her waiting for some time now." Johanna said and sent the codes to the controll center for confirmation.

"I'll also accompany them, though I shall hang back and guard in case this person is hostile."

Caden indicated his current armed status as he announced his intentions.

[Warning, Bunker Emergence Protocol Initiated. Stand clear of access bulkheads immediately. Repeat, stand clear of access bulkheads immediately.]

Floodlights lit up the courtyard outside, and several lights flared, illuminating the hangar brightly as the whole mountain seemed to shake.

[Access Motor One... Engaged. Access Motor Two... Engaged. ]

Slowly but surely, the shaking subsided, leaving just the loud humming of the massive motors, designed to haul the even larger bulkheads into the mountainside.

Outside, the noise and vibrations were just as bad, sand and dust falling off the massive doors in waves as the doors prepared to open. Though no sound could be heard from inside, what was happening didn't need explaining.

Several loud metallic thumps could be heard as parts pulled out of one another, grinding and twisting as the massive bulkheads prepared to open, various slats and rods on the inner side of the doors pulling back into the walls in neat, organized, but seemingly random sequences. One thing was for certain; the Fahlburgers made sure their bunkers wouldn't be broken into from the outside. They also made sure the things would take more than half an hour to open.

Dr. Nick simply stood there tapping his foot in mock-impatience until the door finished opening. Double checking that he had all his supplies, he made a quick guesture for Spork and Caden to follow him and stepped outside. He accessed a few files from the base as he walked, accessing what little data had been accumulated on this individual so far. The medical computers in C-17 weren't particularly powerful, but they were efficient. If a face and a name found its way into the bunker's database they automatically created a medical record of that person. Admittedly, there would be nothing in it until somebody put things there other than name and picture, but there were doctors who would regularly check the list of new names in the medical database and make the correct phone calls to fix that.
"Nice to meet you... Terra, right? I'm Dr. Nick, and I'll be the person making sure you're not out to kill us today," the bot said conversationally, holding out one hand. Keep things light, funny, and put the patient at ease. He was like that with everyone, seeing as everyone was a potential patient. It's not cold, unfeeling lump of metal 457782-B who's checking up on you, it's just Dr. Nick. Whether or not he actually was an unfeeling lump of metal was beside the point.

She stood clear as the doors finished their movement.  Damn... redundant much?  Still, when you're enemy used nuclear weapons with glee, it made sense.  As the robot emerged she blinked in surprise, putting her hands up.  "Woah.  I heard about Fahlberger autodocs but I've never seen one before."  Her eyes lit up as she leaned forward.  "Do you have any idea what you're worth?  Amazing."

She then came to and registered his comment.  "Yeah.  I'm going to kill you all with an out of date electronics kit.  Surrender or perish."  Finally she reigned in her scarcasm.  "It's just me, and I'm not interested in causing any trouble.  I just need water and radmeds if you got em, and I'll be on my way."  She rose up on her toes, peeking past him to check and see if there was anything behind him.

Oustside C-17

Using Dr Nick as a suitable distraction, Ephrael made her way silently to the side. Grabbing some handholds of the fence she rolled over and came up in a crouch after lightly touching down. She waited, but with her weapons holstered to see what the girl would do.

ooc: Sorry for being soo slow, my internets was realy messed up for some reason, my upload speed was faster than my download :P and could not even get google up...

Spork follows Nick outside and stands next to him.
He stares at Terra for a moment before scaning the surounding area in case she did not come alone..

"You will not be granted access to the bunker-main or its resources untill we have confirmed that you pose no threat to the population of C-17.
I would advise that you stand still, with your arms straight and out to the side.
Do not interfere with this doctors examination."

"Gonna examine me huh?  Fine.  Just don't take too long.  It's hot."  And she did what she would do had she been in the Protectorate; she removed her jacket and tossed it aside to be searched, and then without pausing removed her top as well.  In the protectorate modesty and embaresment were trained out of you.  Her slim, youthful body sported a dozen thin scars and knicks over her chest, belly, and breasts... but there was no missing the horizontal whip scars across her back.  She began to undo her belt and pants.

Caden had taken up a position a few steps behind Dr. Nick with a clear line of sight and fire between him and their guest, though he did not draw a weapon.

He raised an eyebrow as she took off her top and moved to remove her belt and pants.  From where he stood he could make out the small scars, a tough life she must have had.  He remanded carefully watchful, leaving the searching of her clothes to someone else. 

"Gaw, not that much. Couple thousand, maybe. Feels nice to know I'm valued, though," the medbot mimed scratching the back of his head again, like a shy child, "Oh, good idea," he straightened up and turned toward Spork and Caden, jerking his head in the direction of the aforementioned electronics kit, "Could one of you military types check that for things that go boom?"
"Lets not get ahead of ourselves, Miss," Dr. Nick raised a hand hastily as Terra started disrobing, "We've got a few less invasive ways of checking to begin with. How about we start with the blood test? bioweapons, rare and interesting diseases, all that good stuff," the medbot rolled down the rubber-like coating the palm of his left hand, revealing a layer of material lined with microneedles; they were comparatively painless, but each individual one couldn't extract much. Thus why they needed the surface area of the whole palm, "Now, where would you be okay with feeling a strange aching sensation for about fifteen, twenty minutes?"

C-17 Courtyard

Johanna rolled out through the bunker doors. The six legs that her wheels were attached on constantly changed legnth to get her over debris and cracks in the courtyard smoothly. When she reached the heap with clothes that Terra had thrown off she turned around and extended a black cylinder from her sensor rig that was mounted on her back. The cylinder sniffed through the clothes, looking for dangerous substances.

"No explosives, no dangerous chemicals." She said and pulled back the sensor.
You better check it for biological weapons, though. My sensors can't detect those. She added in a PM to Nick.

She'd removed the pants and boots and well, giving them to the sniffer as she stood in her very gray boxers.  "Aches and pains for fifteen minutes?  I've had aches and pains for the last two years, since I got here."  She then reached out and took his hand without a wince.  "Go ahead.  Get all the blood you need."

Her medical exam would prove that she was of moderate health.  No active contageons, though her body showed all the signs of long term low radiation exposure.  Her blood still contained traces of protectorate immunizations, which were effective against most disease and low levels of radiation, at the cost of halving their citizen's life spans.  What could you expect of a people that put the group over the individual every time?  Still, her body was showing the strain of low hydration and prolonged exposure to gamma emissions.

"Well.  convinced?"  She asked as she pulled her hand away and put both on her hips.  She didn't seem to have the slightest shred of embaresment at her unclad state.  Hell, she trained naked with both sexes for almost three years.  'Builds character' her instructors had explained.

There was a slight hiss, a feeling that someone had pressed the heel of their hand against Terra's palm as hard as they could, and the scan was pretty much done.
"She's clean, folks. Nothing contagious, nothing malevolently man-made. Better shape than I would expect after being out here so long, actually," Dr. Nick released Terra's hand and reached into a pocket, rooting around for... "Aha, here they are," he offered the rodent one of the lollipops he usually hung on to for when he was working in the pediatric ward, "For being such a good patient." A gesture to put the patient at ease.

Cocking her head to the side, Ephrael studied Terra. Damn that must of hurt. She thought looking at the scars. Still looking good though >:3.

When she heard Dr Nick give the all clear she stood up, and walked over to Terra and the two bots.

"Hello hon." She said as she stopped. Looking over at Terra's clothes in Spork's hands she moved over to the bot and took the jacket from him. "Here put this on, I'll be right back."

Ephrael turned and walked back into the bunker apearing a few minutes later carrying a bundle of clothing. "Try these on we look to be the same size." Eph handed over an almost new pair of jeans and a new shirt.

Johanna looked at Ephrael. Giving away free supplies to random people was kind but not really wise when you were running short. Clothes was one thing but water and food was another.

"Terra. We are running short on supplies ourselves and can thus not hand out free supplies to anyone that comes by." Johanna said and took a short pause to make sure Terra got the message. "We are currently preparing to head out and gather more suplies. If you can help us with this task we can make a deal so that you get food and water during your time with us and a portion of what has been gathered when you decide to leave."

She listened to all this, frowning, but couldn't help a rare smile at the new clothes.  "Thanks."  She said as she dressed before them, putting back on her old boots and army jacket and cap.  She removed what belongings she needed and folded them up to tuck under her arm.

They needed food and water?  Water?  Any military post worth its salt would have water recycling.  Heck, back in the Protectorate it was called 'Community piss'.  She sighed and sat back atop the bucket o death, her chopped tail twitching.  "Okay.  I'll help, but I need a few questions answered.  And no, nothing about your base."

"First... do you need water as in the stuff, or the equipment to recycle it?  Big difference.  Also, how well can you filter out radiation and contamination?"

"Secondly... food... are you looking to find, trade, buy, or take?  Most food is brought in and traded to the scavengers.  You can find it if you're really patient and lucky.  And you can buy it if you have gold or silver.  I don't think anyone's going to be accepting Fahlberger currency.  If you thinking about taking it, I will point you in the right direction and bid you all adiue with thanks.  I got no interest in being slaughtered."

"I don't know how much contact you're willing to risk, but I'd keep it minimal.  I know the protectorate has two bases inside the badlands, and I know they'd just love to get their paws on a functional bunker.  You helped keep me from death, so I owe ya that much at least."

Spork as usual is just standing there, observing...

"No, we have already told you too much, you may very well be a mole, sent here to gather information to plan an attack on this base.
However, since the overseer has sanctioned this plan I may as well give you this information:

We need water indeed, large amounts of it. Also any tanker that we find must specificaly have a type9-GP adapter to fit our storage tanks.
Food is a higher priority however.
Any method of gathering these items, that does not put C-17 in further danger, is acceptable."

Spork sends a short range transmition to Joe:
This is a ruse, if she is indeed a mole and returns this misinformation to her superiors then we will have a way of protecting the bunker. Please tell the overseer that if a convoy arrives up with large amounts of water and the tanker has a type9-GP adapter, then it should be turned away at gunpoint. Even if they are running dangerously low on food.

Spork looks to the others,
"We must be on our way, the sooner we leave the higher the chance that we will be successful. I take it that you all have packed your equipment and have stored it in our vehicle?"

As quick as she smiled it was replaced by a scowl.  She pointed at the other bot.  "Here's your choice: Use me, dump me, or kill me.  If you wanted me dead best thing you could have done was kept the doors closed till I was dead or left thinking this was a dead end.  You want to dump me, then I'll start walking.  But if you're smart you'll use me, and if you want me to be worth piss you'll answer my questions.  You need water?  There's a hole half a mile away full of it.  It's also got a nasty smear of biocontaminants and hard rads.  It probably glows in the dark.  If you can filter it enough to drink it, wonderful.  Problem solved.  If you can't then it's a waste of time to go there, now ain't it?  If you can't filter anything, period, and can only drink the finest runoff of the Shoadeval mountains then it's going to be quite a trip, ain't it?  Last potable water I came across was five days back and about thirty seven kilometers cross country to the north west.  BUT-" she snapped her teeth together at the word, "If all you need is equipment to repair your own recyclers then there's a community ruin ten miles to the west that has a good chance of having something you could use."

She walked toward spork now, bristling, "So, for question two... how the fuck do you plan on getting this food?  Find.  Trade.  Buy.  Pick one.  If ya plan on taking it then shoot me now.  I'll wait for ya at the gates of whatever hell awaits mechanical paranoids like yourself.  You want it fast, then you better shell out something worth trading and get to a barter post.   You want it really fast, better get some precious metals.  But if you're not for taking the risk and are willing the spend the time then there's all kinds of places to go looking."

She stretched up on her toes, teeth bared, "I was in the Chalean Protectorate for fourteen years.  If I were a fucking mole, spy, or otherwise I would have been making a weepy sob story and trying to get inside, now wouldn't I?  But I don't.  And no matter what you think, clanker, I got plenty of integrity gained through buried friends and loved ones.  Now, answer my diety damned questions as to what you need so I can tell ya how best ta get it, all right?!"

She stalked away from him then, swearing a slew of invecatives fit to make a sailor blush before the small rat looked up at him and the back at Johanna.  "Well?"

"We intended to search for food and tools for decontaminating soil and larger amounts of water." Johanna said. She thought more long term than most people. Already before the war she had been discussing with her brothers and sisters how to create an agricultural society in a postnuclear environment. They even had seeds in storage.
"We can use anything else of value we find to trade with. Attacking others for supplies is not an option."

She took a long slow deep breath before letting it out.  "Glad to hear it."  She pulled out a very battered, folded piece of paper from her coat.  Carefully she unfolded it.  It was her treasure map, something every scavenger carried.  Though ten years out of date, the road map had still saved her time and energy.  Every inch of it was marked with minute letters and numbers writen in red, blue, green, and purple.   "Okay.  Foraging isn't easy but at least you're at the edge of the rad zone."  She glanced up at them and then at the dry dusty around them.  "Yeah.  It gets worse than this.  Best thing is to head north, away from the badlands.  There's a town the protectorate sacked three years back.  It's been picked over pretty well on the surface but there's at least a dozen or more 'doors' that I couldn't open last time I was there.  Hopefully you guys can and we can find something useful."  She thought a bit more and then traced a slow arc to the north of their position.  "Then we should move along here.  They're outside the rad zone and sparsely populated enough for there to be food to gather."  Her finger ended at the arc.  "There's a small trading post here with some people I know.  If we can't forage enough, then hopefully we can trade for what we need."  Her finger then went south and made a sharp twist towards the bunker.  "A decoy turn for anyone curious and we'll be back here.  Depending on transportation it could take two weeks or more than three months."  She sat back, thinking it over.  "With luck we'll have the equipment we need.  With less luck, we'll find the food we need.  And if we don't have luck then we can trade when we get to the outpost."

She sat back, thinking a moment, and then nodded.  "Any questions?"

Looking at the others in the group Ephrael smiled. "I like her she's fiesty, can we keep her?"

When Terra asked for questions Eph spoke up again. "Umm do you know anything about driving articulated trucks?"

She blinked as she looked over her shoulder at the girl.  Oddly, she seemed almost embaressed at her comment.  Moodswing much?  "I'm certified for the A-21, A-23, and A-30 heavy transport.  They all use articulation.  I've never piloted a Fahlbergian model though so it'll be a rough ride for a few days.  I sure hope you guys have decent transportation."

"We could go in so you can see for yourself." Johanna said and began rolling back to the bunker. "Not much left to do here anyway and we are moving out soon."

Johanna didn't want to have Terra in the bunker for too long. Jo wasn't as suspicious as Spork but not as enthusiastic as Ephrael either. Terra wasn't a threat, at least not an immediate one but further observations would tell more.

Spork declines to pursue the argument further, he has warned the others of potential danger, if they recognise it or not is their responsibility.
He now must simply watch and wait.

"Yes, we may as well show you our transportation. Follow."
Spork starts to make his way back towards the bunker entrance.

The information she has and potential resources she could make use of in an attack at this point in time far out weigh anything she could gleam from a brief visit to the bunkers vehicle bay... Acting in an antagonistic maner will help to prove nothing.  To discover Terras motives Spork must, for the moment, work with her...
Afterall she may be telling the truth, to reject such a useful resource would be just as bad as letting her sabotage the mission.

Caden stepped to the side to allow everyone to pass by, keeping a watchful eye on their guest and careful track of his own weapons.

"After you ladies and gentlemen."

By the time the hangar is re-entered, there are no mechanics to be seen, although several small lights can be seen in the shadows cast by the floodlights and half a dozen turrets are now hanging down from the ceiling, scanning about for threats. Each stares at Terra for a moment as she enters the bunker, but quickly turn to their duties, the sinister, and all too familiar (to Terra, perhaps, as this particular model of pulse cannon was used as a heavy infantry support weapon and on pintle-mounts for tanks a considerable amount during the last conflict between Fahlburg and her own country) twin short-barrel wide-bore pulse cannons effective against both infantry and vehicles.

Anyone'd think the Fahlburgers were paranoid.

Duh.  It was understood that Falhberg started the war with Enteria due to their paranoia of the larger industrial nation to the south.  With the Chalean protectorate on one side and Enteria on the other, it was no surprise the Falhbergers had been worried.  Their dependance on technological innovation was little surprise either, and probably contributed to their eventual preemptive strike on their southern neighbor.  Enteria had built up such a military force that Falhberg's only response was a tactical nuclear strike on their marshaling areas.  They probably had counted on their technology to destroy Enteria's own nukes, but there was little defense from an Enterian kinetic kill weapon... aka a really big chunk of iron ore flung into low planetary orbit to come down like a fist of the gods.

Of course then the other three got involved and it turned really messy.  The Protectorate didn't have a chance against Falhberg alone.  They were the smallest nation and squeezed up in the largely frozen northern territories.  But a Falhberg getting smashed by Enteria was ripe picking.  Still, to anyone other than a general or a member of the controlling party, it was a fiasco.  The Protectorate war machines might have been big and nasty, but they were poor matches to the Falhberger's.  Mass infantry swarms were cut down by energy weapons, but if the Protectorate had a disposable resource, it was people.  It's races were predominately high in mice, rats, rabbits, and other fast breeding races.  One famous 'battle' involved marching so many troops on a Fahlberger position that their energy cannons finally melted from the sustained fire.

Eventually 'Black Friday' occured.  The final massive exchange of nukes, balistic killer, chemical and biological weapons, EMP weapons, and conventional military attacks and others that would turn a third of Aldelpus into the wastelands.  There were experts that postulated it would take centuries for the planet to fully recover.

So no, she wasn't afraid or worried.  If some thought her brave for that, or stupid, they would be wrong.  She could die right now from their pulse cannons, or she could have an heart attack or cancer.  If they were going to kill her, they could have done so numerous times before, and would be able to do so numerous times to come.

When she saw the trucks the looked at the first with approval, the second with a sharper eye, and burst out laughing at the sight of the 'fire truck'.  "Oooh, who has the death wish to drive that thing?"  She said before she climbed up into the first.  Sitting in the driver's seat, she adjusted it to fit her small body before she scanned the controls, and then looked around.  "Hey, where's the manual?"  As she lacked a neural interface, she had to learn things the old fashioned way.

Ephrael hugged Terra lightly as she stood on the step next to the drivers seat. "Think we have our driver guys!" Realising she hadn't introduced herself Eph blushed a bit. "Oh I'm Ephrael...Terra wasn't it?"

Yerk!  She blinked as she was unexpectedly hugged, stiffening as old reflexes reemerged.  "Um... yeah.  Terra.   Terra Sheer."  she said as waited to be released.  "It's nice to meetcha, Eph."  She finally sighed and began the process of learning how to drive.  It took her a minute to get started, but as soon as the engine roared to life she was figuring out the controls.  She pulled Epharel in and set her shotgun as she started to move the truck.  Forward.  Back.  Up.  Down.  Left and right.  Side to side.  "Too bad it doesn't have wheels."  She muttered.  "And it's too clean.  Need to find a nice rocky outcropping and bang it up some."

Johanna could have written a quick tutorial but as soon as the power turned on and she could analyse the system, the truck began to move. Since her signals had lower priority than the drivers there was not much else to do than to get out of the way and hope Terra didn't break something. At least she wasn't driving the one they had planned to use.

"Please be careful with my hardware." Johanna said as she managed to enter the trucks computer systems. A screen on the dashboard flickered  and a cloud of white particles, with blue trails, circulating around a glowing center appeared.

Ephrael smiled as she was helped into the passenger seat of the truck. "Finaly we get to leave this place!" She had grown very bored of the place, as you can only play the same prank on one group of people for so long...

Dr. Nick clambered into the truck and sat down on one of the lower bunks, setting his back down beside him. "What she said," he chuckled, jerking a thumb at Eph. "Less talky more drivey."

Spork clambers into the drivers cabin and stands on lookout out of the hatch.

Caden stows his gear and takes up an appropriate seat in the vehicle.  Wonderful, guided by those we do not fully trust.  I hope this does not end badly, I only have so much ammo.

Spork climbs down from the hatch and walks over to the other vehicle
"Have you changed your minds about which vehicle to make use of? All of your belongings are still in the military varient..."

"Wooops, sorry got all excited about leaving I guess I forgot." Eph grins, her checks turning red in embarrassment. "Terra we are taking that one over there." Ephrael points to the camo painted truck.

Caden groaned and dragged his gear out of the truck, "I too appear to have been 'excited' about leaving and jumped in the wrong truck.  I shall be in the other one."

Caden dragged his stuff over to the other vehicle and stowed it in a safe and prime location, he then took an appropriate position in the vehicle and tried to take a jackal nap.

Nick followed the others to the other vehicle, shoulders slouched in dissipointment that they weren't taking the pyro-truck. "You lot are no fun at all, you know that?"

"Yes." Johanna replied and rolled up next to the military truck. All supplies seemed to be loaded, they could move out as soon as everyone was ready.
"All set?" She asked and looked around to see if anyone was missing.

"Sorry."
Arnage climbed into the truck holding a backpack over his sholder.

"Jim Bailey wanted some paperwork 'fore I left. Idiot held me up for half an hour."

Spork climbs back into his original position in the military variant.
He ducks down into the vehicle proper.
"What should we call this vehicle? Military variant is rather a poor name."

Climbing in after Spork and sitting in the shotgun seat Eph smiled. "I think our new driver should name it."

She positioned herself behind the wheel.  Despite not having a neural interface, she seemed to have an innate understanding of how the vehicle functioned.  "A name for it?"  She thought a bit as she drove it back towards the entrance.  What was in a name?  Chalean's named their biggest warmachines vaguely nationalistic titles like 'Fist of the People' or 'Truth of Unity'.  She thought a second.  "Sojourner," she said as she leaned back in the seat.

"Now.  First stop on our trip is that town I mentioned.  Should be about four hours, if we're lucky.  So a few simple lessions."

"Lesson one.  None of you are from Fahlberg.  If anyone asks, tell them it's none of their business.  If they try and pin you down as one, say you were out of country on business or something.  Remember, if they're not wearing a uniform or holding a gun to your head, you don't have to answer.  If they are, you don't have to tell the truth.  Same goes with this vehicle.  If some one asks about it... we found it.  Can't remember where.  End of story."

"Lesson two.  Scavenging is a competition.  The stuff we find some one else will want.  Good scavengers trade.  Bad scavengers take.  If you can get what you need with a trade then you've saved yourself a lot of trouble.  But if some one tries to take something, then people are going to die.  Scavengers are people.  Most would rather not put their necks on the line, but there's more than a few who will shoot you in the back and take what you've found."

"Lesson three.  People with uniforms.  The protectorate has a half dozen bases in the bad lands I know about.  Anyone with a uniform is some one to avoid.  Period.  If we have to talk, let me do the talking.  If I'm not there, then remember your best bet is to be as craven and fawning as possible.  Soon as I find a nice ledge I'm going to coat this thing in an inch of dirt, but the last thing... the last last thing... I want is for a protectorate unit to think we're actual military."

She shifted gears as she glanced over her shoulder.  "Any questions about lesson one, two, or three?"

Johanna's rover followed the truck (or Sojourner if you so wished). Lesson one made her a bit concerned.

The company that made her was known and prized for their innovative coding and their .ai format was pretty much standard in the industry. As the war started they pushed out their new versions of the format, mainly at the request of the Fahlberg military.

Johanna was one of the test AIs for experimental code and her version was upgraded, a process which made her structure unique. There was a chance of other AIs notesing this and realise that she had to be Fahlberg.

"Erm, I have a question," Dr. Nick raised one hand and leaned forward, "How do we explain that the Fahlberg medbot isn't from Fahlberg?"

Caden sighed, "perhaps we should leave the extremely obvious Fahlberg robots behind and select a few more convincing flesh and blood team members?"

A speaker in the vehicle's dashboard crackles for a moment, then a small holographic figure flickers into view, marching along the dashboard militarily before stopping to address the vehicle's inhabitants.

"Seeing as ya'll haven't left the immediate vicinity yet, I can still contact ya by this here radio. 's Mack, by the way. Jo knows me, but for those who've forgotten I'm the Dee-Cee-Aye-Eye - that's Defense Co-ordination Artificial Intelligence - assigned to protect this here bunker. Anyhoo! I've been listening in on ya'll, if you'll pardon mah nosiness. As fer the medbot, yer actually a... well I don't know what th' hell y'are. Scrap `bot walkin' is one of 'em, but you seem ta be about... quartah Fahlberger FMU, half Derethian M6S and another quartah of unahdentifahed parts. Whoops, slippin` into the old accent there... anyhow, as I was saying. Ya shouldn't have any issue with being recognized as a Fahlberger medical bot. Trust me, you'd know a Fahlberger FMU when you see one. Big imposing fellas with heavy armour and fingers the size of sausages. Gentle but at the same time rather disturbing to watch one work. Probably where y' got that left arm o' yours, I'd bet." The little holographic figure lets out a puff of holographic smoke from it's little holographic cigar, standing there for a moment.

"Anythin` else y' wanna cover, or d'ya just want ta get goin'?"

"Personaly Mack, I just want to get the hell out of here." Eph purr'ed at the hologram.

She laughed and smiled, shaking her head.

"The bots have less to be worried about.  The protectorate doesn't recognize AI's and bots as people.  The Denethans don't have the technological knowledge to tell where she comes from.  So if any one asks where she came from, its the same as this truck.  'Not tellin.' or 'Found her some where south east a year ago.'  If there's some one who can identify her origins, they're probably wearing a uniform."

She paused as she thought of something and frowned.  "Oh... mac?  You might want to be sparing with the radio.  I don't know if the protectorate can hear you through the Enterian ECM, but the Enterian's do still have kinetic kill weapons in orbit.  One of them wiped out a camp I'd left six hundred miles south where they found an communication node and fired it up to full power.  So keep it to burst transmissions as long as you can."

Settled back and focused on driving.

"Lessons four, five, and six...  lesson four is about the environment.  Your country is now host to nuclear, biological, chemical, and military ordinance.  Sensors are your new best friend and Joanna is your lover.  Stay close to her because the second the wind shifts and she picks up dangerous levels of rads, a biocontaminant, or a toxin... get back in the truck.  The land is littered with all kinds of live war material, from cluster mines to bombs to ammunition to military bots with their AI's on the fritz.  Make sure you know where you're stepping when you walk some where.

"Lesson five... ruins.  We're going to a city of about fifty thousand or so that caught a full barrage of protectorate long range artillery from the Mijol cannon.  At least two of the shells were loy yield tactical nukes.  The buildings are not stable.  The surface has been picked over over the last six months since the rads went down.  You have chemical storage that is now leaking.  You have power systems that may or may not electrocute you thanks to phenominal fahlberg fusion generators.  You have robots that may or may not be following their AI.  In short while you'll be tempted to relax your guard, the opposite is true.  Ruins are great spots for ambushes and there's all kinds of nasty buried stuff that'll surprise you.  Remember, your sensors are your best friend and Johanna is your lover."

"Lesson six..." she paused and glanced over at Eph, then sighed, her face returning to it's emotionless protectorate mask.  "Lesson six is bodies.  You're going to find a lot of them.  They won't be pretty either.  You'll find bodies of men with gaping holes in them.  You'll find bodies of women clutching their children.  You'll find fresh bodies of scavengers who got caught by the rads.  They'll fall on you when you open a closet.  They'll land on you when you dig out a shaft.  You'll find hundreds crammed together under ground in subways, sewers, and shelters.  Worse of all your sensors usually won't warn you, cause a body just reads 'inert biological matter'.  And no matter what I say now, it's going to hurt.  If it doesn't, then you'd better eat a bullet because you sure aren't alive yourself.  But you can't stop and bury ten thousand dead people.  You got to move them aside and keep searching.  You just can't stop for the dead."

After all, she hadn't.

Dr. Nick hunched his shoulders slightly at the mention of bodies. His programming included what could be called Motivation Subroutines. He was proud when he succeeded in his duties, and felt crushing shame when he failed. The sight of dead bodies could trigger the shame response. YOU HAVE FAILED IN YOUR DESIGNATED FUNCTION. YOU ARE A BAD ROBOT. It didn't effect his efficiency, but he figured it was what organics called uncomfortable.
"Sounds like a lovely place, the world. Dunno why I didn't visit sooner," He half groused. Again, keep things light, pleasant. Be proud of your ability to keep these people in fine mental health as well. He was distracted, though. After all, he didn't offer up a single crack about the "Johanna is your lover" bit.

"Enterian KK orbitals only have a 30 minute operational window before Fahlberg anti-orbital sats take them out and Enterian interdictors subsequently remove them and so forth.  By now the balance has evened itself out so there won't be anything to worry about in regards to death from above."  He paused briefly to snicker, "So the technologically imbecilic Protectorate managed to get a few shots from their monolithic Mijol gun?  As poorly conceived as 1km long artillery weapons are, both Enterian and Fahlberg analysts considered it threatening enough to dedicate a kill sat to its location, I'm sure it scragged nicely."  Caden gazed at the floor as he continued, "death is an obvious part of war, we have no need to attend to them, the living are more important.  Speak not of it again because it is not your place."

She smirked but didn't take her eyes off the road.  "I so love people who are so sure of my place that they feel they have an obligation to remind me.  I should tell you about Colonel Dessaid some time.  I think you and he have a lot in common."  The truck lurched as she swerve to avoid a rough patch in the road.

"As for sats and whatnot.  No one knows who has what up there anymore.  Some one used a nasty computer viral weapon at the outset of the battle that's made lots of the AI's develop a sort of data psychosis.  And since both Fahlberg and Enteria's launch facilities are inaccessable no ones going to be able to get up there to fix them any time soon.  One of the biggest questions of speculation amoung scavengers  is if the Fahlberg space station's still active or not.  Space technology that survives is prime material to sell to uniforms."

She glanced over her shoulder.  "Oh, and yeah, Mijol got scragged.  Six times.  Three tacts and two KK's and one 230 mt strategic device the last time.  Rebuilt and refiring each time.  Never underestimate the protectorate's ability to dump people into a radiated kill zone to rebuild their toy.  They'll have it firing again soon as they get their hands on a new nuclear or fusion reactor or two." She snifted the gears as she detoured around a half dozen derlict vehicles.  "So, any other questions or comments, or should I go to lesson seven, eight, and nine?"

Mack chuckles as he continues patrolling back and forth across the dashboard, staring out into the wasteland that was once peaceful Fahlberger farmlands.

"There's nothin' left in orbit that'll aim at us, and nobody's gonna be pickin' this radio up any time soon, missy, cuz I'm hitting this thing with a burst transmission from orbit. A lot of Fahlberger stuff is still up here in space. Now, F.O.C [Fahlberg Orbital Command] ain't exactly in one piece, but it's still functional. Xerx is a little more than apprehensive to talk to anyone involved in the war and has refused to let anyone from any side board the F.O.C, although he ain't shot any occupied vessels down yet. The Derethian Orbital Navy have a Destroyer that keeps skimming the edge of the F.O.C's automated defenses to test Xerx's stability and resolve. They're medical about everything, even artificial intelligences."

"Xerxes is a good friend of mine and I've picked over his systems several times - he's not infected, which is good, but appears to be having a paranoia disorder."

"Speaking of which, I managed to catch that node go up and down. The sat that popped it got wasted by one of Xerx's Orbit-To-Orbit Particle Cannons about a second after it fired and toasted up nicely on the way down... I think it actually hit the camp it shot at."

"Anyway, what I have done is use Xerxes' camera network to watch the rest of orbit. It's pretty bleak up there. Very few of the satellites are still operational, and the orbit of most of the debris is deteriorating rapidly. I'm no weathertech, but I estimate there's going to be some nasty rainfall over the Protectorate in the next few days."

The little 3 inch tall hologram grins as it puffs on it's cigar.

"That said, Xerxes has some pretty nice cameratech up there and I'm getting a nice view of the terrain, despite the Enterian's best efforts otherwise. I can almost pick up the exact location of this vehicle, as well as it's speed, facing and estimated destination going by these details. Of course I don't need to since you all already told me." The hologram turns back to surveying the landscape. "But what I can tell you is that there's some real funny movement in the southwest that you want to steer clear of. I'm detecting an AI behind it, but they're not talking and it's not the same format as a standard Fahlberger Military AI like myself. This worries me, obviously."

"Now what really worries me is that I can't get in touch with the GAFT and ACAF at all these days... oh, look up and on your left, there's ACAF Command buried in that there mountain. See the fake covering on the hangar doors and extendable runways? I've been watching it all since FHC went down, and there's been no activity since. I suggest we stay clear of it. I won't be able to stay in touch once you near the city as the fusion reactor power spikes a real bastard to get burst transmissions through but I'll get in contact once you reach the other side, or come out of the rads. Any last words-- I mean questions?"

Spork ducks down from the hatch once more

"Ah, Mack... Is there any possibility of you taking then transfering some orbital photographs to us? They may be useful in tracking down areas of intrest, and signs of activity in the areas we are to explore..."

"`fraid not. This connection is only stable enough for text transmission. My voice is actually being synthesized by the truck. I mean theoretically I could send you a sonar image but that wouldn't be much use to any of you since you're not bats."

The little hologram chuckles, grinning.

Naturally, Johanna reacted to the talk about unusual AIs. She knew about some series three alphas... but, no, they were never released. What Mac was talking about most likely a design developed by the Fahlberger military. Still, better ask...
"Not the same format as a standard Fahlberger Military AI? Can you still recognize it or is it new?"

"Not sure. Some of the patterns match, but not all of them. I wouldn't call it new, but it's using a modified protocol that I haven't got PTCs for. Can't make heads or tails of what it's doing." The hologram shrugs. "There's no patterns that would match a rogue AI either, so it's completely... well, coherent, or at least not insane. I take it the Protectorate haven't spoken much about any mysterious movements in the southwest, right?" Mack turns to Terra, watching her intently.

(I hate 12 hour work days.)

She nodded as she listened.  "Well that's good to hear, mac.  I'll personally be paranoid of a twenty thousand pound rock shooting at me from out of the blue at mach ten for the next ten or twenty years, but it's still good to hear.  As for bad weather, hey, just one more thing to scavenge."

She cracked her knuckles.  "Bogies to the south westand a non-com site.  Good to avoid the former.  Might have to consider the later, later.  Priority is water treatment equipment and your facilities probably have full environmental.  Still, don't want to take a novice crew to some place I don't know.  We'll be listening for you when we reach 51.55 by 132.02 with a progress report."

She leaned back, scowling as she looked out at the road ahead.  Finally she said, " About a month back I heard stories about an underground factory in that area.  Nothing new about that.  There's always rumors of a score here or there.  I didn't have a crew or transportation out there myself, but I know two crews that did go out that way.  They weren't seen again.  No emergency transmissions.  No remains.  No vehicles.  The protectorate used to patrol through that area six months ago but now they detour a hundred and fifty miles to the south.  I don't know what they found, but it would have to be significant.  Protectorate doesn't particularly care about the lost personelle.  It would take more to make them move."

She brightened a bit.  "Still, it's not in our path and it's some place to avoid.  We should be incommunicado for three days.  If it's longer, we'll move out and get in touch."

The hologram nods to Terra.

"Well, you're getting close to the edge of the interferen-- --ld now, I m-- --ar-- --eakin-- --p. I'l-- --eep in con--ct as m-- --s pos-- --ut I can't pr--se a good signal. Lo-- --nto bringing SatCom Aerial Six online, th-- should h-- --ceptio-- --eatly. It's ab--  --ou-- --om  --r-- --nt position. I'll be tr--king your m-v-ments fr-- --rbit. Mack --t."

The hologram slowly disintegrates as the truck travels deeper into the deadzone, making decent time towards the city already. SatCom Aerial Six is clearly visible, almost dead ahead of the truck, and according to calculations based off the vehicle's current speed and last known position, roughly an hour away. Part of the Fahlberg SatCom Network, Aerial Six provided major signal support. In a strange display of tactical thinking, the aerial was hit with heavy EMP bombs (rather than standard explosive kill-bombs) by Enterian airforces, and the fusion reactor was forced into 'cold' mode by the electromagnetic surges to avoid meltdown.

As the connection failed she sighed and fell into full drive mode.  Perhaps unfortunate for her passengers, it didn't preclude her talk mode.

"All right, seven, eight, and nine is all about salvage.  Scavenging.  Picking the bones of civilization.  Whatever you want to call it."

"Lesson seven is looking for it.  Stuff out in the open is rare.  You have to go looking for it.  There are scavengers who will take anything not nailed down, we call em Junkers because that's largely what they end up with... lots of garbage no one wants or can use.  I'm more selective, and you guys even more so since you need specific stuff.  Since things in the open get junked, smashed, or damaged, you need to get creative.  Basements and underground hold some of the best equipment, but they can be tough to excavate.  I'd give an inch off my tail for a crane.  I'm hoping that Joanna and spork have the sensors to make looking a bit easier."

"Lesson eight is removing it.  You have no idea how many times I've found a priceless optical processor smashed by some lug who tried to pry it out with a crow bar.  Use tools and remove it carefully.  Wrap it up if you can.  Remember, just because equipment is heavy doesn't mean it isn't fragile too.  Especially, emphatically, if it's a weapon.  I wish one of you was an explosives or weapons expert just to handle anything we come across that might go boom.  Our least expendable members are Joanna and Spork, so I really don't want to risk them.  All the rest of us are disposable."  She glanced back over her shoulder at the android's shells, "Ironic, eh?"

"Lesson nine is about hiding it.  Successful scavengers are scavengers who seem to be failing, because they don't attract attention.  When we stop for a break I'm going to crawl through this vehicle for hiding spots.  Last thing we want is a uniform or takers to try and make all our hard work pointless.  When we make a base camp, we hide it as best we can and we make it a mess to everyone who sees us.  If anyone asks, we've been there two days and haven't found nothing.  If they push us, I'll pass em some junk."

She taped lightly on the wheel and then looked back again.  "Any questions?"

This day was just getting more and more confusing. By his very nature, anyone animatronic was more expendable than one who isn't. However, rather than bringing it up, he simply nodded. It wasn't his place to be involved in such decisions anyway.

"I for one, would be very intrested to hear your reasoning behind the statement that, both Joanna and I, are indispensable compared to the others in this outfit..."

"I assume it's p-rtly because the Pr-tectorate consider l-ss of life l-ss important than loss of expensive e-uipme-t." Johanna said. She could feel the interference herself since she was outside the truck's protection but with minor changes to the signal she could make a clear transmition.
"Looks like the lights are off at SCA Six but no real damage done to the outer structure. There is a risk that vital components have been taken by scavengers. If not, the restauration of the installation may attract new scavengers unless we also activate the automatic defences."

"Actually, it's because robots are damned rare, can do things fleshies can't, and are harder to replace.  I might remember to use a scanner.  You ARE the scanner.  If I die you can find a new driver.  If Joanna get's scrapped, I have no clue where we're going to find another.  If Eph or what's his name back there bites it, you can replace us to.  But you guys are more valuble intact and active."

"As for the Aireal relay, I would fire it up unless we absolutely have to.  The second the protectorate get a signal off a place they'll investigate it.  I doubt that they have the equipment to take out the A.D., but if they can't take it then it just turns into a target for their long ranged weaponry.  And you're right.  An active facility is to scavengers like an shit factory to flies.  They just can't not investigate.  If it's got a bunker door like that one back at your base, then most scavengers I know won't be able to penitrate it."

"Remember, our priorities are water reclaimation equipment, food, and water.  I'm hopeing that we get lucky with the first."

Somber

"Hmmm, I have not thought of it that way, and the bunkers maintenance department definatly have not either.
I am, happy, that you conisder me somthing of value.

As for the relay, if we can not make use of it conventionaly, then we might as well gather what we can of its valuable components for trade."

Caden stood up and calmly placed his hand on the driver's seat back, "your reasoning is flawed, probably due to your lack of technological knowledge.  However, I do thank you for your opinions on who is considered expendable, but it is not your place to make that determination for us.  And yes, I said your place again, because you do have a place here... it is as driver and a consultant.  You come from one of our enemies, but you are not one of them specifically... nor are you one of us in any more then occupying the same space.  It also appears that you have no desire nor intention to become one, since you have such a low opinion of us."

"Since our driver has found it necessary to begin placing value on each of our existences, it is imperative that we establish the authority structure.  I propose that Johanna be the sentient in command of this operation.  An ITOS is analytical and calculating, but without excessive emotional fiber to cloud judgment, the years of built up predjustice or cynicism of some.  It may be advantageous to have Jean or Eph advise on areas where emotion may serve better, but for command decisions an ITOS should be sufficient."

Caden did not like having to confront the morally corrupt and insensitive Protectorate ragamuffin, especially on areas of morality where he had no business holding high ground.  Perhaps his years of military and police training finally chafed against the chaos of the mission's organization. 

     

"If Jo is in charge I'll try to help her out if I can..." Eph said from the passenger seat.

Johanna was surprised at Caden's suggestion. AI-TOSes usually worked as advisers or secretaries for commanders but were never in a commanding position themselves. As such, Johanna wasn't really sure at what it meant to be a leader. It seemed to require something that she lacked... intuition.

"I usually give advice, not orders." She said.

"I propose that Caden takes on the role of leader, with Johanna in an advisory role we should have a ballanced command team.
I do not belive any of us are totaly suited to this role of leader, however we must make do with what we have at the moment."

The suggestion by Spork caused Caden to pause.  Though all beings had means of displaying non-verbal cues in regards to emotions, anthro-types seemed to have the most visually obvious ones, illustrated by how Caden reacted to this unforseen turn of events.

Caden kept his facial composure quite well, however, the jackal's ears drooped down and his tail did the same nearly slipping between his legs.  His pulse raced, Bad Caden!  This is why you keep quiet and stay out of things.

"I am a military reservist and a Police Special Tactics operative, I am trained to operate alone.  I am a warrant officer in the military, but I was just promoted before I entered the bunker and have never actually commanded before."       

OOC: Now that is definitely what I did not want to happen...

"Now now, lets not worry the poor vulpine," Dr. Nick ran his laugh program again, "Jo's probably capable of keeping in mind every variable that'll come up; useful quality in a leader. Although I agree with one part of what Spork says; all the programming in the world can't replace some of the creative leaps an organic mind is capable of. Mebbe designate Caden or Arnage as back up leaders; they probably have the most experience in this sort of thing, and could take over if Jo's out of her depth."
Not my place, but I have a job to do. Few are okay with machines in anything greater than an advisory role; we'd have clashes in the chain of command in days, and armed people in that state of mind are a plague in and of themselves...

"I don't think anyone of us has extensive experience in commanding, Caden." Johanna said. She had looked through everyones profiles (except Terra's which she naturally did not have) for former leaders but had not found anything.

Terra seemed to know most about how to act in this environment but choosing her would be risky and Johanna didn't notice any natural leaders in the group. Caden could very well be the best for the job even if he didn't seem to like the idea.

"I can't command worth crap, so don't be looking at me."
Arnage sank back into his seat and mused about nothing in particular.
"If you need someone to talk, though, that's another story. Call me when something interesting happens."
Arnage went to sleep.

Caden sighed and sat down, this was not as simple as he thought it was.

"Perhaps... if I perform the necessary intuition, lead combat situations, and act as spokesperson... Johanna can administrate and offer the more logical approaches.  We can operate as a team."   

"Those would probably be the only situations we will need a person taking charge. In other situations we can make decisions together." Johanna said.

"First decision should be how we are going to tackle this building." SatCom Aerial Six was now much closer. Arnage's nap wouldn't last long.

"Im sure common sense will see us through, we should approach as stealthily as possible, then check for signs of activity.
The chances are that either the building has been looted and is now useless or the base has some sort of protection that will have prevented looting and will stop our attempts at entry.  Basic observation will clarify the situation.
Untill then forming any detailed plans would be unwise."

"Do we know how we can get in yet? I've got my gear with me if the codes we have don't work...Or the door is locked" Eph produced a few electonic devices and a pair of lockpicks and a toolkit.

Johanna arrived at the building before the rest and began nosing around the walls with her sensors, looking for both organic and electronic life.

"The building appears to have been EMPed. All electronic locks are probably broken, at least near the outside. All the doors leading to the important areas are too heavy to force open. We need to find an alternative way to get to the core parts."

Arnage looked over the building and piped up.
"Want to get a look at the roof? These big installations usually have some form of a roof access, say, a helicopter pad or fire escape. Usually less secure than the main entrances."

Caden was happy to have his mind off of the responsibility situation, "You should keep an eye out for anyone living, and monitor radiation or other electromagnetic anomalies.  As Arnage has said, look for roof access as well as side emergency exits.  Emergency exits are usually non-powered in case of cascade power failure, but conventional security should still be in place.  The main problem will be that they are exit only, but some work is to be expected."

The aerial (a fifty or sixty foot tall construct) is set within a "low-walled" (by Fahlberg standards) compound, the fifteen-foot tall walls made out of a strange dark grey material that looks like concrete from a distance but is surprisingly smooth to the touch, the main gates sealed shut and unwilling to open. There are a few extremely faint signs of life within the compound - probably just insects that survived, either with sensors or sight, although Jo's sensors tell her that the personnel door in one of the towers at the main gate runs off a seperate powersource and still functions, though it is locked, the keypad next to it awaiting the correct 7-digit access code. Her sensors also tell her that the reactor is operational due to the very low energy output it's giving off, though this isn't enough to bring the antennae array online proper.

The array itself appears to be a tall sandy-coloured pyramid-like spire, with multiple hatches and panels folded up or away to prevent access to the sensitive electronics - likely part of the Fahlberg's extensive safety measures. Fortunately, Jo has a floorplan of the facility in her memory - it's a fairly standard SatCom communications array, albeit slightly larger due to it being one of the six main arrays. The main building and reactor building are for all intents and purposes identical to those of smaller counterpart facilities. Maps show locations of important objects such as the reactor controls and the main computer, databanks and so on.

Eph walks up to the door and examines the keypad. "Looks functional guys...I'll have a go at it." She says as she kneels next to the door and opens her tool kit.

Pulling out a screwdriver and a bypass circuit Eph begins to open the Keypads face. Tinkering for a bit she looks up at the others and smiles. "Almost there." She clips the bypass cirtuit inside and attaches her electonic lockpic.

The numbers whizz on the display as the electronic lockpick does it's thing... it makes a resounding buzz as the first attempt fails.

Take two. Rigged up again, the numbers fly by as the lockpick works it's magic... and once again fails.

Third time lucky? Third time lucky indeed. Just as it looks like the door is about to stay shut, the lockpick beeps softly, then there's a soft hiss and the door slides open.

The room beyond is fairly small, squareish and about 10 feet from wall to wall, with a shutdown console on the eastern wall (assuming one faces north whilst entering the room) and a large map of the area and a bookshelf (with very few books) on the opposite wall. In the center of the room is a small table, with a few chairs around it. The chairs are askew, and there are some torn-open and empty wrappers left on the desk, plus some old and rather foul looking mugs of coffee. There's another door on the far side, it seems to be shut as well, but there's a simple switch on the inside to open it with.

Putting her kit away Ephrael stood up and waved the others towards the now open door. "There we go folks!"

If it was that easy to get in Johanna wondered why none had taken everything in the room already. She rolled up to the console, with any luck it was connected to a network but since it was off she couldn't remotely access the console.

"Could anyone plug me into this?" She asked. She couldn't use her own powersource to start all of the facility's computers but it would allow her to power up some of the memorybanks.

Caden, having retrieved his gear, shouldered his rifle and drew the plasma pistol.  He carefully approached the door on the far wall, he stepped carefully looking for trip wires or any other small annoying traps. 

upon reaching the door he paused to listen for any response beyond, if clear he carefully listens at it, but does not open it.

Spork follows the others inside and helps Johanna plug in.

The room is utterly devoid of traps, unsurprisingly. There's nothing beyond the door except thin air, so no noise.

Jo plugs into the console. It makes an unhappy grinding noise as the old fans whirr to life after a hefty rest period. The machine boots up and the speakers turn on as an automated voice greets those in the room, coming from the speakers.

"Startup sequence complete... Welcome to SatCom Aerial Six Gate Control... Please state your name and authorization code."

Caden regarded the console and then Jo, "I hope you have some type of cracking program or legitimate access.  I doubt this thing is on a grid I have any access rights to."

Johanna stopped sending power to the console's processor, giving the defensive programs no room to operate. It was just a question of picking apart the programs for the keys she needed. After finding what she thought was a programmer entrance Johanna began sending power to the processor again.

"Startup sequence complete... Welcome to SatCom Aerial Six Gate Control..." The automated voice said again before Johanna used the programmer entrance to get past.

Dr. Nick knocked the heel of his right hand against the side of his head to clear up the remmnants of the bluescreen that had kept him from following the others immediatly. However, follow he did; dangerous things were more likely to happen in there than out here, and he'd have to be there to help ASAP. Terra was apparantly guarding the truck.

"...confirming authorization..."

The computer paused, whirring quietly.

"...authorization confirmed."

The screen flashes up the command interface, most of it dedicated to controlling the gate and defensive structures around the perimeter. Each is summed up simply;

Gate Status: Powered, Closed
Defenses Status: Unpowered, Retracted
Aerial Status: Unpowered, Retracted

The compound seems to be defended in the standard manner - a number of defensive turrets disguised as towers in the walls. It would seem they are incapable of aiming inside the compound and there are no turrets within the courtyard.

Memory databank access seems rather limited from here... basic query and playback access, but no download capability.

"I'm in. Sort of... " Johanna said. "Does anyone want to ask the computer anything?"

Query: Latest log entry.

Terra followed behind the pack, sqatting in the dust as she looked at the aireal.  Something just didn't feel good about this.  "This place hasn't been touched.  The gate hasn't been broken down.  Eph's the first one to touch the lock."  The rat swayed her tail stump in the dirt before she looked over at Johanna.  She seemed a little occupied.  "Log records are a good start.  Find out if the record of the last person who left this place was authorized to be here, and how long ago that was."  She grabbed a handful of dirt, letting it trickle through her fingers as she watched the wind carry it away.

"I'm not convinced this place was fried in the first place."  she said as she walked over to Caden.  "No char from shorted out electrics on the sides of the tower.  No black marks from sparks.  Hell, this place probably has its own environmental processors.  The walls are intact.  The turrets haven't been blasted.  The only reason I could see some one powering this place down would be to avoid detection, but in that case why aren't they still here?"

She looked over at Dr. Nick.  "Any hostile biologicals in the air, doc?"

There was a tinny inhaling noise as Dr. Nick checked.
"Gimme a couple minutes. Lessee now..."

Ephrael packed her things away and steped into the room. "Has anyone checked this door?" She said as she walked over to it, her hand over the switch to open it.

The console whirrs momentarily, then the screen flickers and an audio playback begins.

"This thing recording? Ah, good, it is." The sound of the anti-aircraft missile launchers firing can be heard in the background. "This is Sgt. Mackenzie making a final report before the EMP bomber gets here. The array's shut down and the outer plate should absorb most of the shockwave but we can't close the reactor shield in time and that's definitely going to go down when the bomb hits. The bastards seem to have some kind of anti-missile lasers on their craft - no idea where they got them from and--" There is a loud explosion followed by the sound of some kind of aircraft falling from the sky and crashing some distance away. "--...okay so maybe it's not impossible to bypass the defense. Anyway, the main aerial array is closed up and safe, but the reactor will need time to warm up if anyone decides to turn it on. The secondary generator, well under the grounds here, quite inaccessible I might add, provides power to the turrets and gate. Naturally we've set up the turret retractors, secondary generator and gate controls to fake a shutdown when the main reactor goes offline so if anyone finds this place and needs shelter then they can power up the defenses and use them. The turrets can be configured and reactivated from the Control Center. This building only has Sublevel Gate Control - the Control Center can override it if necessary."

The report pauses and the voice stops. Another voice calls something out in Fahlberger.

"What?! It's an hour ahead of schedule?! Crap! It's almost on top of us, let's get out of here! Sgt. Mackenzie out!"

The recording stops. "Message ends" states the console.

--

Nick finds nothing hazardous in the air, unsurprisingly.

--

As Ephrael touches the door switch, it slides open, revealing the empty courtyard. It's fairly spacious and big enough for it to take a minute or two to cross from the gatehouse to the opposite Control Center building when moving at a decent jog. The main array is on the left, tall and imposing, with the reactor further behind it, settled between the Control Center and the Array in the North-West corner of the compound. The road emerges from under the gate once more and splits in two - westward toward the array, and continues north as well, sinking down into the ground and under the Control Center through a gated entrance to some kind of vehicle bay.

She listened soberly to the recording.  "They must have gotten hit by something precise.  Maybe the Enterians were planning on occupying this place.  Last EMP site I saw was a real mess.  Char from shorts, even electrical discharges.  A real electronic system killer."  She squinted at the monitor.  "The fact that the recording survived in a miracle in an of itself... unless Fahlbergers pride them selves on making every system hardened."

She cracked her knuckles.  "Good news with an intact facility like this is that hopefully they'll have parts in inventory.  There is nothing sweeter than salvage in a box.  If not we'll have to find the recycling and food stores.  That's our objective after all."

Folding her arms behind her head she thought a bit.  "Johanna, Eph, and Caden should make sure the reactor is safe, check the system, and the defenses.  If this place really is fully operational then we'll have to talk to mac and let our superiors decide if we scavenge here or not.  A place like this is like a mountain of gold for salvage.  Just remember not to turn everything on if you can avoid is.  Last thing we need is some protectorate sensor to get a ping off this place.  Nick and I should find the stores and the inventory and see what we can find in terms of edible food and potable water for the bunker.

She looked over at Caden, and arched a brow, "Unless you have a better idea?"

Caden nodded, "that sounds fine, check the QM and Mess tech storage, that will have the largest concentration of military issue rations.  Anything requiring cold storage or not sealed for long term shelf life will be highly suspect.  Someone will need to bring the vehicle around, Jo would be so kind as to open the gates?" 

Caden turned to fully regard Jo, "I'd like to get things running off of the secondary generator, unless a threat analysis can be run that determines it would be safe to startup the main.  Unless anyone has anything else, let's do this thing."

"I can open the gate from here but to reroute power and check the main generator would be easiest to do from engineering." Johanna said and sent another query.

Query: Status of main severs?

"And be careful with the main servers. These installations usually have AIs and we don't want to wake up one that is in a bad mood." She added and began looking for some wireless network so she could follow the others who probably wanted to move on now.

Dr. Nick, for lack of a better term, exhaled, "Unless anyone here has a terminal dust allergy, and I'm assuming they don't, we're in the clear. Well Terra, you heard the man. To the QM and Mess tech storage!" Dr. Nick posed dramatically, pointing in an unspecific direction meant to indicate "Onward!" Gradually, the hand swung back down to his side.
"Erm... Where's the QM and Mess tech storage?"

Servers are... (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1128460)

"Servers offline. Critical data structure error in Bank 36A, possibly result of EMP shock." echoes the console "Servers will require hard reboot and time to complete a standard diagnostic and maintenance cycle, should startup be in order. Otherwise, all other data is intact."

Jo has maps of the base, or at least decent enough ones for this kind of installation, enough to navigate around the main structures. The console also appears to have a 3d view/map of the installation as well.

Spork takes a look outside over the sholders of the others, he then turns to Johanna

"Johanna could you please open the gate so that Terra can pilot our vehicle inside the safty of the compound, the rest of us may as well hitch a lift to the buildings over there." He gestures towards the control center.
"I would presume that to be the entrance to the facility proper."

"Done." Johanna replies. The grinding of not so well oiled machinery could be heard as the gates slowly opened.

Here is a decent map of this place, Nickolas. It would be good if someone else but me had it. Johanna sent to Nick together with the map and some points of intrest.

Still standing by the inner door the courtyard Ephrael looked over to Jo. "Anywhere you want me Jo?"

"Madam, you are divine," Dr. Nick gave a low, formal bow in Jo's direction, "C'mon, Terra. I have the maps." And with that, he on his way back outside to the truck, figuring they'd head for the mess first. After all, it was even called a mess, so it was unlikely he could leave it any further disarrayed with his inexperience and Terra's civilianity.

"I need you to close and lock the door when we leave this room. Make sure it's locked good so we won't get any visitors before we get this place online." Johanna said to Ephrael.

Johanna looked at Nick as he walked out. She had preferred to get to the generator and the servers first but they were not in a hurry at the moment.

"Ok Jo!" Ephrael said happily as she walked back to the front door and looked at the inside lock. "I think I can do that."

"Right, lets go then"

Spork heads outside to the truck, and takes up his usual position in the hatch.

"Alright get that vehicle in the gates and close them up for now.  Then relocate to the primary command center.  Let's get the generator, then servers up.  Those assigned to these tasks, lets get moving.  Everyone else check stores as I've suggested for the consumables."

Caden headed out the door and towards the main area of the base.

Johanna added some new strings of codes to the console, mainly removing and adding access levels and upgrading the firewall. She then closed the gate after the truck had passed through and disconnected herself from the console so she could follow Caden and the others.

The inside lock is fairly simple, and easy enough to secure. Unfortunately... reprogramming interior lock (1d20=2) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1162393) - oops. On the one hand, the door's quite securely shut. On the other hand it probably won't be opening again without serious maintenance. Ephrael pulls her hand back just in time - Reflex (1d20=9) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1162396) - to avoid getting electrified fingers.

--

Jo successfully pulls it off - Modifying the Console (1d20=12) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1162402) - the modifications should hold if anyone gets too nosey or tries to break the firewall.

--

With the truck inside the courtyard and the gate closed, business can continue as normal. The main base door opens willingly, the lobby abandoned, papers scattered on the floor and chairs knocked over. The entire facility is eeriely quiet, like an abandoned hospital or factory - very reminiscent of old movies. Thick coloured lines on the wall have words printed on them in Fahlberg Military text - complex looking but easy to interpret. A red line leads off to the left, marked "Generator", as does another orange line marked "Defense Control". Three lines lead off to the right - a green "Barracks" marker, a blue "Mess Hall" marker, and a black "Communications Control" marker. A door on the far wall is half-open, and records indicate there's a small office there - probably nothing of note. The computer at the main lobby desk occasionally sputters and hisses, it's screen displaying a wall of static.

--

Assuming Nick and Terra make their way to the Mess Hall, it is indeed a Mess. An absolute tip, in fact. Drink cans, cups, wrappers and trays are lying all over the place. A faint humming comes from behind the serving counter, the fridges still running on their own shielded power supplies, and a large board above the counter proclaims that the soup of the day is tomato.

Caden follows the red line off to the left, he intends to check out the generator to see how it has faired.  He uses the light on his gun to illuminate his way, otherwise he keeps the gun pointed forward, tracking the area visually like a good little soldier boy.

"Eeep!" Ephrael squeaks as the lock spits some sparks. "Sorry Jo I don't think this door will be opened again.."

"Where to now you think?"

"Mmm... Tomato..." Dr. Nick says, happily rubbing his hands together, "Well, this place would give the food and health board a heart attack or two," he kicked a few cans and piles of trash out of his way as he slowly made it to the fridges, "Let's see if anything's still good."

Spork follows the green line towards the barracks, in the rush of evacuation some stuff might have been left behind.

Johanna wasn't really intrested in food so she followed Caden towards the generator.

Red Corridor - Jo, Caden

The red corridor is fairly normal, the left wall a row of reinforced glass windows looking outside, and office doors down the right wall. Most of the offices are empty or a scattered mess. The generator access is a little further along the hall, behind a large blast door.

--

Mess-tech - Nick, Terra

Surprisingly, most of the food is still good - if you could call Fahlberger military rations "good". Which they were, in most cases. Decently good taste and you could live off one bar for a week or so. There are also several bottles of chilled energy drinks and assorted carbonated and alcoholic beverages, as well as frozen food, suitable for frying or cooking. Practically a feast compared to standard bunker rations!

--

Barracks - Spork

The barracks are just as much a mess as mess-tech. The main room is lined with lockers and has several double-bunk beds, each with footlockers. Bedsheets and pillows are strewn everywhere, as well as some hastily discarded bedclothes. Most of the lockers are shut, though a few swing open, and the electronic locks seem to have been fried.

Caden approaches the blast door and examines the access panel.

If it is openable, Caden does so, otherwise he motions to Jo, "can you check this out?"

Spork searches the open lockers for useful items, before moving on to the locked ones, he attempts to break them open with his hands and any simple tools he may acquire easily from the surroundings.
If required to, he makes use of a bed sheet to carry the loot so as not to make more than one trip if he finds alot.

Blast Door

The access panel seems relatively intact, if grimy, and the blast door itself seems to be covered in a thin layer of dust. Like the main door it seems to want some kind of access code - no doubt 20 digits long in Fahlberger code with at LEAST a second layer of security behind it.

Fortunately, it has an access port below the keyboard.

Barracks

Very little is still usable - there are some old Fahlberger base duty uniforms, distinctive black with silver trim. The closed lockers crack open fairly easily - especially as Spork is designed with superior manipulative strength in mind. Many of them contain more uniforms, though some have an assortment of power cells, and a few mid-caliber kinetic handguns in the lockers of obviously lower ranking officers. Another locker with a distinctive red stripe down the center refuses to open, almost daring anyone to attempt to crack it open with something a bit bigger. It might take a bit of luck to get it open.

Spork collects the weapons and ammo together, he then considers the red striped locker for a microsecond. After this period of consideration spork procedes to examine its locking mechanism.

Johanna rolls up next to Caden. This panel would probably be much harder to hack than the console.

"Can you connect me?" Johanna asked Caden. Hopefully, they could get the wireless networks up soon. Then she wouldn't have to ask others to connect her all the time.

Caden nods and takes the jack, inserting it into the port.

"good to go."

While the others had all gone inside Ephrael decided to hang around outside till someone need her.

Walking over to the truck she decided to climb to the top and have a look around.

The food's still good. Terra and I'll see about getting some back to the truck. The others set themselves on fire yet? the medbot sent to Jo. Nick saw to gathering up the various rations, prioritizing them by nutritional value, "Terra, don't suppose you could be a dear and not mention the booze to the rest of the gang? I've a sneaking suspicion that letting them get their hands on stuff that's this old would violate my programming."

Not yet. Johanna replied to Nick.
She began testing the security of the panel by using codes and handshake protocols that she had picked up from the gate control. Once she knew what type of security there was she began booting up her hacking programs.