"Resistance activity in this sector has been the most successful. Many Arbian military units were able to evade capture and destruction. They were able to seize control of a number of outlying towns and villages during your most recent mission. Among them, is the town of Gold Dust," Adelaide said.
"The Utopians probably aren't happy with that," Grif observed.
"Not a bit, but with their other outposts under attack, they've had little choice but to sit underneath their shield."
"Fair enough. Let's move on to the part where we blow stuff up."
"There is a network of mine shafts that run underneath the city of Aural. There is a resistance contact in the bar in Gold Dust that will take you through the shafts and lead you inside the city."
"Sounds like a good plan. Why haven't the resistance people taken out the generator already?"
"They were discovered en-route. A mech patrol vaporized them," Adelaide said. The Striker touched down in the town square and Grif's team secured the area. Grif went for the bar.
The three S's sat around on the striker, playing cards and chatting about the campaign. "Hey Skully, your not too bad with that sword of yours." Smiled Scar. "Thanks," I grinned, idly tossing a glass bladed knife from hand to hand. "But enough about me. Did you see Shadow up there? Those we're some neat moves my friend." "I know. Shame we're grounded for this. Stupid mountains with there stupid shileds and anti air defenses." She threw her cards down, clearly angry. "Cheer up Shadow. The sooner the shields are down the sooner we can all get back to our flying around making the world explode." Scar was clearly trying to calm her down. As the striker touched down we all debused. I grabbed my black overcoat, pulled on my autovision shades and darted out to secure the area. The ground crunched beneath the thick soles of my black combat boots. The looks on the natives faces were mixed. Some afraid, some over joyed and some clearly not happy we were here. One strong looking thickset man tightened his grip on an old school laser pole arm, stared straight me and spat on the floor. In a single motion my forearm blade flicked out and one of my revolvers was in my free hand. "I wouldn't try anything if i were you. Unless you plan on taking a dirt nap right now hombre." Without seeming to back down, he turned around and lumbered off. "What friendly people they breed here." I chuckled.
I have looked into the eye of the storm and stared it down. I am an adrenaline junky and i know no fear.
Short Name: Kitty Affiliation: YWS/ SPEW Occupation: SPEW Operative/ Moderator Combat Specialty: Subterfuge and Diplomacy Weapons: The Abyssal Claw is well equipped with heavy weaponry, more than one would expect considering her size and speed. But for the moment, Kitty has had to leave her ship in a safe space and is leading the resistance on foot. Their weaponry includes sniper rifles, grenades etc. Kitty's weapon of choice is throwing daggers and a sabre sword. Equipment: Kitty is dressed all in black to blend in with the resistance. Her armour is light to allow for quick movement, but covered in short, retractable spikes to add an extra element of danger for when she's fighting close combat. Skills: Raising and leading troops, dealing damage quickly and effectively, then moving on to another area of the battle to do the same again. Kitty is best suited for the initial, devastating thrust and prefers to leave others to finish up. Background: Kitty has served YWS for several years and while her ship, 'The Abyssal Claw' has been grounded several times, it has always made its way back to base eventually. Heather is often the first into a battle and the last out, not liking to leave any of her own behind which is perhaps why so many will gladly follow her. She has a reputation for being fair and deadly and most of all, she has a reputation of being a survivor.
It is uncertain when Kitty became affiliated with SPEW, but she serves them loyally in echange for not being eaten. Over the last few weeks, Kitty has made contact with the resistance and utilised them against the utopians. She has organised their ranks and set in motion plans to infiltrate the city of Aural.
~*****~
Kitty; at the bar; with Grif
The town was mostly under control of the resistance, whether its people realised it or not. But. There were still enough loyalists lurking around that Kitty had retained her disguise. She sat in a corner of the bar, drinking a glass of white liquid as the sounds of fighting settled down outside. Good. Now the town was truly theirs.
The bar was almost full and only a handful of the punters were her own operatives. The bar man himself was hers and packing behind the counter. One of the lethal looking bouncers on the door was hers. The not-even-pretending drunken idiot in the corner was most certainly hers and didn't care who knew it, breaking away from his glass every now and then, just long enough to shout a loud toast to the rebellion. Nobody paid him any heed. Their eyes were instead fixed intently on their drinks, or on the double doors allowing entry into the bar which soon swung open to permit... Grif.
A weighted silence hung in the air as the towns folk eyes this starnger warily. Grif made his way to the bar and slid some money on to the counter. "Two milks," he said and his eyes moved casually about the room as the bar man served him. Before too long, his eyes came to rest on the table where Kitty sat and on the glass she held in a slender, black-gloved hand. Whether it was the white of the liquid that gave her away, or the claws issuing from the leather of the gloves, Grif smiled, collected his drinks and walked over.
"Take a seat," Kitty offered as he came closer and she kicked the one opposite of her out with a deft smack to the leg. Grif sat down obligingly and set his drinks on the worn, wooden surface. "Now tell me, how does the main force fare? My informers bring me news, of course, but it's far from being complete."
Blue, not drunk I looked- after last assignment- they took the risk of no waffle-Tuesday and took away my spirits. I had to get a drink- but they sent me this YWS assigned Councillor- He said I should get 'dry', a rehab, as 'I am a risk to myself and others- as well as to the integrity and the success of the assignment.' I was sober for a week now- and I was mad, I had to get a drink- that kept me from thinking about things, which I wasn't very bad at- but it was horrible.
As I went by the shining, graceful bodies of the grounded strikers- Like a dead bird I hated being sober.
the worst part though- even more than the lack of anything worthy of the word 'drink'- was the fact I was grounded as well, in fact, I was double grounded- I was removed from both the missions- and my beloved mess.
Grif was already gone- went to meet an agent- and the Triple S were with him. Stella was out like me- she had something to do- I wasn't sure about the rest.
My hand went toward my hip- only to realiza they took my knives and my double barrel as well- Freakin' Medical Command!
They can take a lot of things- but they can never take away my freedom. I thought to myself, grinning- I hated being all thinking and sophisticated like this- but it served me well this time.
But then- the launch has been made- and I landed right in an alleyway behind a- I almost cried of joy when seeing it- a bar! I walked in- but very sneakily- I can be pretty sneaky when the world isn't spinning- but it's really boring. I also managed to realize very quickly who are the agents I should avoid- so I dodged, escaping without getting a glimpse by the bouncer.
Now, how do you get a drink without being detected by the barman?
'I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.' -Stephen G. Tallentyre
"Great minds think alike- idiots are unpredictable"
