New Orders - Escort Duty

Post by **CS High Command** » Mon Oct 25, 2021 5:32 pm

New Orders - Escort Duty

Date: March 1 through March 3, 110 PA
Time: 1700 on March 3 by end of post.
Temp: 30° outside, a brisk 60° in the hallways and 65° in most rooms.
Weather: Not snowing at the moment, but forecasts do suggest it will snow this afternoon. Not much accumulation over the past few days.
Ley Line info: There are multiple ley lines in the ruins of Old Chicago 80 miles away, but none in Chi-Town itself.
Location: Coalition States Psi-Battalion Headquarters - Chi-Town; Battalion Conference Room

While the specifics of their next assignment are unknown to them, they are aware it will be a top secret escort mission of some sort. One that will require them to be undercover as common soldiers. As such their gear must match that. Power Armor is limited to a single pair of suits for the mission, and all must be traditional looking SAMAS or Smiling Jack SAMAS - though they can have modifications as long as they cosmetically look normal. Stealth is the focus of the mission. Armor must be CA-3, CA-4 or the CA-4N Naval Infantry Variant, though cyborgs may have CA-6C instead. Mutants may have one of the above or DPM-D1 Heavy Armor - regardless they will be issued a Recon Helmet. Long arms should be , though sidearm choices are unrestricted as long as they are Coalition issue or are modified to look like it. The ship will have mounted railguns that can be manned in the event of an attack.

The team has two days to handle any modifications they want to make to their gear (covert is the watchword and all modifications must be hard to notice even in close quarters). The orders come straight from Major Smith to the team. They must submit a full catalog of all gear for inspection by 1700 on 3 March, 110. Briefing will be at 0600 on 4 March.

The team will also be accompanied by a squad of 4 skelebots (including Aleksandr). They must look like normal or only slightly modified skelebots.

James gathers the team on the morning of March 1st and reads out the limitations and begins the process of assigning power armor, heavy weapons, and getting requests for modified gear going.

Post by **CS High Command** » Mon Oct 25, 2021 6:05 pm

Equipment should include:
[Body Armor] or [Power Armor and Flight Suit]
Load Bearing Harness: See this post for how the LBH System works
Any Sidearms or melee weapons, as well as any grenades (up to 2 smoke grenades and 4 offensive grenades)
a CS-S2 Pack with any extra gear in it.
Up to one additional carry the size of a duffel bag (tools, clothes, personal effects, computers, etc; see also additional assigned gear options for the group - as long as it doesn't fall outside the mission paramaters, its okay)

Gear Template

Code: Select all

[insert armor or power armor/flightsuit here]
[color=#4000FF][b]GEAR Load-Bearing Chest Rig[/b] (Patron Item)[/color]
[img]http://pbprpg.org/images/upload/2017/10/26/20171026170728-1ab298b3.png[/img]
[size=85]Developed by Coalition Munitions, these chest LBHs often are only issued to favored troops or special forces. 
[u]Features:[/u]
• Characters with Super Strength (TLPG p. 65) will multiply their Load limit by 1.4 (or 2.0 if they have Brawny), while normal characters will increase their load limit to Strength x 7 (or Strength x10 if they have Brawny) in pounds. 
• Integrated IRMSS: 20,000 credits to recharge (R:UE, p.263)
[color=#FF0000]Attachment points can be utilized to carry 1 each of the following item types: sidearm, magazine, E-clip, grenade, canteen, food ration pack, minor items or individual tools.[/color]
[list]Left
• Attachment: 
• Attachment: 
• Attachment: 
• Attachment: 
• Attachment: 
• Attachment: 
Right
• Attachment: 
• Attachment: 
• Attachment: 
• Attachment: 
• Attachment: 
• Attachment:
[/list][/size]
[Insert Longarm on strap here]

[Insert CS-S2 here with additional gear]

[Insert additional gear up to a duffel bag in size]

Mane · Post by **Mane** » Wed Oct 27, 2021 9:42 pm

Mane heard the orders, and was immediately disappointed he'd have t leave his trusty "Stopper" ion pistols behind, as there was no way to disguise them. He was also disappointed his request for an enhanced C-200 (or compact equivalent) went unanswered... again... not that the stout MD slug-thrower was an option on this op.

For the assignment, the big cat decided to go with a minimalist approach.

Armor: DPM-D1 with Recon helmet

GEAR Load-Bearing Chest Rig (Patron Item)

Developed by Coalition Munitions, these chest LBHs often are only issued to favored troops or special forces.
Features:
• Characters with Super Strength (TLPG p. 65) will multiply their Load limit by 1.4 (or 2.0 if they have Brawny), while normal characters will increase their load limit to Strength x 7 (or Strength x10 if they have Brawny) in pounds.
• Integrated IRMSS: 20,000 credits to recharge (R:UE, p.263)
Attachment points can be utilized to carry 1 each of the following item types: sidearm, magazine, E-clip, grenade, canteen, food ration pack, minor items or individual tools.

Left
• Attachment: CP-30 Laser Pulse Pistol (with long e-clip)
• Attachment: Spare long e-clip
• Attachment: Spare magazine for CM-940BR
• Attachment: Silver plated vibro knife
• Attachment: Fragmentation Grenade
• Attachment: Fragmentation Grenade
Right
• Attachment: CP-30 Laser Pulse Pistol (with long e-clip)
• Attachment: Spare long e-clip
• Attachment: Spare magazine for CM-940BR
• Attachment: Silver plated vibro knife
• Attachment: Smoke Grenade
• Attachment: Tear Gas Grenade

Long Arm: CM-940BR Battle Rifle - using SLAP Ammo

CS-S2: Standard 72-hr survival gear and rations (as per NG version)

Duffel Bag: PT clothes (x2), duty uniforms (X3), coveralls work clothes (x1), Holy Bible (well-wrapped in clothes), sewing kit, walkie-talkie, simple tool kit, personal hygiene kit.

Post by **James Howlett** » Thu Oct 28, 2021 1:05 pm

Perception: 1d100: [84] = 84 /78%
Just in Case: 1d20: [7] = 7 ; 1d100: [19] = 19
Conditions: None

James sits waiting for the others a tablet computer sitting in front of him. James looks up as the team begins to file in. "You all know the drill, fill out the form, so the armory can process it. Any special requests will be considered." James says, as he too looks to his tablet and selects his gear for the up coming mission. "And before anyone asks, I am in the dark same as you all." James decides to nip that line of questioning in the bud. Though I am very curious as to what they have planned for us. James thinks as he selects a standard suit of armor and one of the workhorse rifles off the list, before deciding to keep his usual load out of pistol, vibro-knife, and assorted grenades. Just need a field medkit and we should be fine. James thinks as he put in the special request.

Olive · Post by **Olive** » Thu Oct 28, 2021 11:33 pm

Perception: 1d100: [75] = 75 / 77%

Ordnance AT Perception Bonuses

Rescue AT Perception Bonuses

JiC d100: 1d100: [21] = 21 ; JiC d20: 1d20: [4] = 4

Olive comes into the room early, with the only person being there before her being the Captain himself. This was her first assigned mission with the team where she isn't scooped up and drafted mid-assignment, so she is aiming to impress. As James looks up, she has to take a moment to stop her tail from wagging. A new assignment! Finally, I was getting antsy with just garrison duty. While she is happy to spend time with her pack, the Dog-Boy much preferred the companionship of humans.

Olive glances over the "form" she is given, made up of pictures of gear rather than words. Her ears fold back, feeling a mixture of shame in not being able to read and use the compact little sheets the humans have, and pride in not giving in to the temptation to snatch a book away and learn on her own. The smart doggirl certainly wasn't going to go breaking the CS's trust and learn to read, no matter how much easier it would make her assignments. Even if I could use it to help my team, even if it just means reading a computer terminal so they don't have to waste their time.

Her ponderings aside, she looks to her leader after a moment of flipping through the forms. "I think most of my old gear will work for this, actually. Outside of the fancy armor, most of my old things were standard patrol gear for a Psi-Hound." She pauses, frowning. "Though, switching out of the winter-style would be a good idea, unless they're planning another trek up north for us." The hound doesn't make any special requests for weapon modifications, simply selecting a standard set of Dead Boy armor and set of gear she's comfortable with using, quietly noting that she isn't given a choice on type of helmet, not that the standard helmet would fit her muzzle.

She does briefly consider requesting to be given a set of power armor, having managed to finagle her way into basic combat training for the standard CS PA systems, but decides against it. I'd stand out if I was the one with the power armor in a group of humans. Best let one of the humans take it.

Egan Grey · Post by **Egan Grey** » Fri Oct 29, 2021 4:20 pm

Perception - 67%, 1d100: [90] = 90
JIC: 1d20: [9] = 9 , 1d100: [51] = 51

Listening to the Doc relay the vague orders and instructions to pick gear with restrictions Egan looks down at the tablet with the paperwork and audibly sighs.
-I swear, it never ends...-
After a few minutes of furious clicking, Egan drops the tablet onto the table and throws his hands into the air in victory before flicking off the offending piece of machinery just for good measure.
"Anyone need a hand?" Egan asks the rest of the enlisted before moving through and helping those that ask or look to need a hand all the while muttering, "if I ever meet the man who came up with paperwork I will murder him."

Gear

Robert Garland · Post by **Robert Garland** » Sun Oct 31, 2021 1:54 pm

Perception: 1d100: [83] = 83 /43%
JIC: 1d20: [11] = 11 ; 1d100: [30] = 30

Garland looks over the new requirements for gear. "Sir. My current load out should mostly suffice. I would request a CP-12 Heavy Laser Rifle, CA-4 armor and two additional FASSAR-30 Skelebots to round out our firepower." Garland fills out the paperwork with almost excessively neat handwriting. He looks at CPT. Howlett, "Well these are defiantly an interesting set of requirements we've received. I look forward to seeing what on the other side of them." Garland will hand over his paperwork and see if any of the others need help filling it out.

Culter · Post by **Culter** » Sun Oct 31, 2021 1:54 pm

Perception: [roll]1d100[/roll] / 54%
JiC: [roll]1d20[/roll] / [roll]1d100[/roll]

Post:

Culter will, of course, opt to take his already augmented Smiling Jack and its installed Rail Gun. I look plain enough for a SAMAS pilot, a reg wouldn't be able to tell the difference. Culter thinks to himself, finding the passing two days to be slow for him as he completes his own load out. "I've got no special requests, well, not any that can be handled in 48 hours and R&D didn't really have time slated beforehand during garrison so, I'll take Happy as is." Culter informs James and Garland. He pauses before turning back to James. "That said, if no one opts to pilot, we should bring Sharkhead, just in case." He adds before leaving. He fills out all the forms as per James' instructions and drops them off without requiring anything more than repair work from the last mission, and he will fill out the forms for the second SAMAS if James asks him too.

Post by **CS High Command** » Sun Oct 31, 2021 2:07 pm

New Orders - Escort Duty

Date: March 4, 110 PA
Time: 1030 by end of post.
Temp: 28° outside, a brisk 60° in the hallways and 65° in most rooms.
Weather: Light dusting of snow. Not much accumulation over the past few days.
Ley Line info: There are multiple ley lines in the ruins of Old Chicago 80 miles away, but none in Chi-Town itself.
Location: Coalition States Psi-Battalion Headquarters - Chi-Town; Battalion Conference Room

The group gathers in the briefing room at 0600. The normal treats of sandwiches, coffee, juice, and pastries are there, as is a single datapad with James' name on it at his seat - and a stack of them on a table behidn the podium. As the group gathers, they find Major Smith already present and eating a sandwich and drinking some coffee at the front of the room. He looks like he just came from the gym, though he is showered and fresh. As each soldier enters, he indicates the food. "Eat up, you have a busy day ahead of you. Probably won't see a mess hall until after 1400. In the basket are some meal bars to take with you, four for each of you, when you leave."

Once 0600 chimes and everyone is present, Major Smith has the door sealed and presses a button which locks it and activates a sound dampening field no one but Culter had probably noticed before. "Alright, sorry for the drama on this, but this mission is top secret. We have some sort of device being transferred from the RCSG's Psionic Technology Development labs to Naval Station Baton Rouge. It's about the size of a AFC-101. I can't tell you what it does beyond shield a portion of the base from any sort of magical obsevation. It's being field tested down there and eventually will be installed on a ship. It is, however, relatively fragile and very bulky. We can't risk a potential crash setting us back billions in credits and years of development, so we're shipping this the long and slow way - by barge down the Mississippi. The device and its handler, a scientist from RCSG who is going by the name of Petty Officer Susan Hawkins, are already in Peoria, which is where you are headed. As your mission is covert, you have been assigned cover identities for this journey. It's only until you have delivered the device to Baton Rouge - shouldn't take more than seven or eight days. You will have a total of four stops: the Naval Base at Fort Girardeau, the free port of Kairo, between Whykin and Merctown, the Naval Base at Greenville, and finally the Naval Station at Baton Rouge. The barge you will be taking is one of our Merchant Marines self propelled barges, and you'll have a launch, a couple of skycycles, and several jet skis at your disposal in addition to the gear you bring. You'll also have a fireteam of naval infantry to bulk out your squad to put you up to the ten we need on board for a light escort. There will also be a rotating escort of Barracudas, but they are unaware of your mission, as are the reinforcements for your squad. Only the Captain, First Mate, and the RCSG scientist will have any idea of what is going on. The RCSG scientist will be on board as a member of the crew, but is under orders to answer directly to you, and you will answer only to the Captain."

He pauses to drink from his coffee and continues. "At Greenville, the cargo will be transferred to a flotilla of Barracudas. Should be at least three. A duplicate cargo will be loaded onto the escorts, and a duplicate looking squad will board each of the Barracudas. Their makeup will reflect your own, this is why we were so particular with your gear assignments. From there you'll make best speed to Baton Rouge. Once you arrive, you'll find the quartermaster, whose name is in your orders, and get him to personally take possession of the cargo. You have orders to transmit if he gives you any crap. They will matching orders he'll receive after you guys transfer cargo at Greenville."

He gestures to the datapad on James's desk. "That has everything else you need. From here on out, that is eyes only for you. Set your passcode before you leave. If it's misentered more than once, it will fry the tablet's memory. Keep it on your person at all times. You will need it once you get to Baton Rouge, so don't wipe it unless you have to. If you do, you'll need to access a secure terminal to download new orders, which will slow the transfer of the cargo. Once the cargo is transferred and secure, go see the base's CO and deliver the RCSG Scientist to her new CO. It should go without saying that she is just as vital as the device itself. She was part of the design team and drew the short straw on babysitting it. You will be travelling to Peoria on a standard personnel transit flight, which is wheels up at 0800. Get geared up, ready to go, and be on that flight by 0745. Grab you another cup of coffee and another sandwich, eat it and get to it gentlemen. Good hunting, and I'll see you when you get back. Hopefully this is the most boring week of your lives. But stay frosty. Any questions? Once I unseal this room, you will be operating under your aliases and will not mention this briefing to anyone. Leave your tags in the bowl and I'll store them until you get back. The armory will update your implants to show the 'correct' I.F.F." He hands each of them new identity tags and takes their existing ones. He scans each into for each soldier, which provides the military record of each of them. "Memorize that data. You can also pull it up on mission if you need to check it. You are all on the same Naval Infantry Reconnaissance Landing Team, and the four naval infantry you get will be the equivalent of commandos from our own teams. They are competant. They are also under orders not to ask stupid questions. They will know your fake service records and will act as if they have known you for months. React accordingly. They are a team of privates led by a corporal who will follow their chain of command. You have their records in your orders Captain."

Only once everyone has had a chance to ask questions, look over their record, and eat does the Major unseal the room. "Good hunting RLT 80-457."

Once out of the armory (and everyone's implants are updated, as is their armor, as well as the IFF on their skelebots), they head to the general muster gate for normal transfers. Slotting their new ID tags, they are moved efficently through to a waiting Death's Head Transport and assigned seating and a locker for their gear. Their skelebots and power armor are locked down as per normal procedure. The pilots then lock up their suits and the skelebot handlers order their skelebots to stay in place unless given lawful orders otherwise. In no way is the group treated as special, despite their cover as naval commandos. They are simply one of hundreds boarding a flight. They are all on board by 0730, but the flight does not leave until 0830 due to complications with loading a Mark V APC.

The flight is unremarkable and short. They arrive in Peoria within 20 minutes, but it takes nearly two hours for everyone to be unloaded. They are literally the last off the transport. Once off, they are directed to a truck which they load into and ride to the port. As they arrive, they see the ship. It is unremarkable - at best. After the trip here, all the waiting, it is 1030 and they still have to present orders, get their gear aboard, secure it, meet up with their new squadmates, and meet with the scientist and captain of the ship. Howlett's orders do tell him to make sure to formally ask to come aboard the ship - a custom in the Navy they should know.

Background Information on the CS Navy

DEPARTMENT OF THE NAVY
Most of the Coalition States are landlocked. The Navy, therefore, did not develop until recently, making it the youngest and smallest of the military branches. Yet, they face powerful supernatural forces, best dealt with before they surface, found in the Great Lakes and the Mississippi River.
Fleet Admiral Travis Fisher is a recruiter’s dream. He started as a hoodlum, born in the relative poverty of the lower levels of Chi-Town, but he finally found purpose within the Coalition military. He oversees the sailors of the CSN from the Department’s Headquarters in Chi-Town and makes frequent visits to the Coalition naval forts along the Mississippi River, Sabine River, and Great Lakes region.
The CSN had a rough few years, and only a handful of warships and submarines are still fit for service. The Coalition used salvaged pre-Rifts planes and ships, but during the heavy action against Tolkeen and Free Quebec, most broke down. Eventually, the vehicles were cannibalized for parts and scrapped as superior, reliable Coalition war machines came on line.
The Great Lakes Fleet was originally the focus of the Coalition Navy, developed by the skilled mariners from Free Quebec backed up by the scientists and designers of Chi-Town—to the chagrin of the leaders of Iron Heart. The Great Lakes Fleet, seen as the pre-eminent naval power in North America, prepared for war against the forces of Atlantis and the Horune Pirates.
Then, the Emperor suddenly declared war on Free Quebec. The Great Lakes Fleet fractured due to clashing loyalties, and Free Quebec’s Storm Troopers seized the CS headquarters at the Isle of Orleans. A fierce battle over the Great Lakes ensued, and the forces of Quebec atomized their CS attackers, sending vast numbers of ships and personnel to the bottom of Lake Ontario, Lake Erie, and Lake Huron.
With the Great Lakes Fleet decimated, the Coalition was forced to hire privateers and mercenary units to protect regional shipping. The “fleet” is currently one in name only and struggles to train green recruits from the ’Burbs to swim competently, let alone operate complex naval equipment.
The Gulf Fleet was under planning and construction when the Campaign of Unity broke out, and the fleet came to ruin. Its enemies did not defeat it on the high seas, however, instead the relentless and concerted raiding of the Pecos warlords decimated it. Based out of the newly “acquired” Port Horus (formerly a D-Bee port, now their graveyard), the entire operation fell victim to the overconfidence of the Emperor and his highest advisors. Port Horus and its attached naval base of Fort Pinnacle, cut off from resupply, found their forces rerouted to the meat grinders of Tolkeen and the Great Lakes.
Finally, Admiral Fisher convinced High Command to cut their losses and relocate the remaining fleet and its operations to a venerable CS naval fortress in Baton Rouge. Coalition naval plans have been set back by years, but construction of the Gulf Fleet is finally underway in earnest, with many of the personnel having lived to tell the tale to the new recruits undergoing training in Baton Rouge.
The Brown Water Navy lacks any capital ships, high-tech subs, or jet fighters. The fleet consists of patrol craft, flying power armor, and sailors who protect shipping along the Mississippi River and its tributaries. They are experts at fighting river bandits, sea creatures, and bloodthirsty magic users. Since the “containment” of the Devil’s Gate Arch by the RCSG, the Brown Water Navy turned its full attention to anti-piracy operations. The Mississippi River and its tributaries, like the Missouri River, now enjoy safety and flourishing trade.

Robert Garland · Post by **Robert Garland** » Mon Nov 01, 2021 3:42 pm

Perception: 1d100: [28] = 28 /43%
JIC: 1d20: [1] = 1 ; 1d100: [91] = 91

Garland grabs a coffee and takes a seat for the briefing. As Major Smith dampens the room and begins the briefing, Garland works to keep his notes to a minimum. Op like this can't have many written notes. Interesting. Under cover. Do able. Like playing a game. That would explain the need for the more conventional weapons and gear. Can't have us standing out. Garland takes a few more mouthfuls of his coffee as the briefing continues. Four stops. Visibility at locations is unknown. Potential issues; the routes; the stops; the split up. Intel must suspect something for them to create two identical units to serve as decoys. I wonder why just for the last leg of the journey. When Major Smith opens the floor to questions Garland raises a hand, "Sir, I do have a few questions. The routes being used, are they established CS supply routes or are they being created just for this mission? Following that if they are established routes do we have intel about the general activity from the last few months on those routes? This way we can gauge what the normal has been for the area. It would help give us a heads up should the things be different then reported when we get there. Third, the places where we are stopping at each of the legs. What is our visibility like to others in the area? Are we fitting into a normally scheduled convoy or are we an oddity that an observer might want to look into farther."
(For the GM: Basically asking if we are taking the place of a normally scheduled convoy or if we are not on a schedule where people might ask 'well why is this convoy here? They look normal but are not supposed to be here)

Garland takes a breath before continuing, "One last thing sir. Since there are duplicates on the final leg of the trip, has Intel shared what they suspect might make a play for the cargo or the researcher? Is it safe to assume we will be able to look over the route when we are onboard the ship and under our new identities? I would like the chance to see if I can find any potential hazard areas."

Upon receiving his new identity Garland smiles slightly, LT Harry Kirk. Kirk. Like the starship captain. Skelebots have me in their systems so I don't need to worry about that.

History: Pre-Rifts 1d100: [57] = 57 /64% (Star Trek Reference)

When they are dismissed Garland...errr...Kirk will wait for the lower enlisted to grab their meal bars before taking his four and stowing them in his pack.

Kirk smiles to himself as the flight is delayed slightly. Always something to mess things up. Good thing we aren't on a time crunch.

Kirk remembers his customs and follows his CO's lead when approaching the ship.

Post by **CS High Command** » Mon Nov 01, 2021 5:48 pm

GM mini-Reply
Smith nods at Garland's questions. "Good observations. The routes are very well established. The crews on these barges are mostly Merchant Marine with a squad of Naval Infantry for close in security. A good portion of the Merchant Marines officers are retired from the Navy or Army, so they are used to commanding men. The Naval Infantry are commanded by their own officers, and it allows us to spread out our forces and protect more shipping after the loss of so many ships in the war and the debacles down in Fort Pinnacle. If you're unaware of those, you can look it up in the archives before you leave if you like."

Smith looks at his own notes to confirm something and then answers the much more prudent question. "We have no intelligence to suggest a specific threat. There are reports of pirate and bandit groups assaulting shipping all throughout the Mississippi River trade corridor, but they tend to steer away from our caravans unless they get big. There are a few groups in the standard briefing package given to the command elements of the escorts, and per protocol they will share them, but nothing in particular stands out to our analysts. We are using a hide in plain sight strategy on this because it is our best option. The payload will be in one shipping container of dozens on this barge. Aside from the payload specialist, who has to inspect all cargo containers, no one will be paying special attention to any single container."

"There is a means of surveilling the contents of the container, but in order to limit errant signals, this is done by jacking into the container directly and entering the proper credentials at the proper screen. We also have four skelebots in the container, with orders to kill anyone who is not the payload specialist. Captain, your orders will include their override command, but only use it in an extreme emergency. After the cargos are transferred, I want you to issue a wipe command also in your briefing, and then transfer the skelebots to the barge as part of their normal security forces to replace the units coming with you. Oh, by the way, only four skelebots will be coming with you - that is the standard for these missions. So Lt. I think you'll be short one, unless the captain wants to leave his skelebot here."

"As to the decoys on the final leg, that is because you will go from a single vessel filled with cargo to three vessels not normally having cargo. They are all armed warships, with full complements of troops, but it is better to be safe than complacent." He pauses and continues. "Honestly we did everything we could to minimize risk, but the secrecy of this tech requires a competent escort fully prepared to do what it takes to protect this cargo." It is very clear he understands the hell that will come down by karma if he calls this a milk run. But that is precisely what it is. The logistics on this have been very carefully planned.

He continues. "The irony is that the other crates will be filled with items being sent to officers and NCOs by family and friends here in Chi-Town. A top secret mail call as it were. A morale booster mostly, but why waste the shipping space. All three crates are in the same shipping container. In her cover as the payload specialist, the RCSG scientist will be able to identify the container to you and the Captain, and your entire squad will be responsible for the safety of the barge and all its cargo and then the safety of the Barracuda you are assigned to and its cargo. It is not unusual for a squad to behave this way, so it shouldn't stand out. Your reinforcements are all bound for Baton Rouge, so they will accompany you the entire way. It should be noted that the skippers of your boats heading from Greenville to Baton Rouge are not read in. Your Captain has operational control, so if their skipper needs to be read in, he can make that call on site. The payload specialist, per their orders, is attached to your squad. That said special cargos like this are not unusual, though they are rare."

Olive · Post by **Olive** » Thu Nov 04, 2021 10:55 pm

Perception: 1d100: [70] = 70 / 77%

Ordnance AT Perception Bonuses

Rescue AT Perception Bonuses

JiC d100: 1d100: [66] = 66 ; JiC d20: 1d20: [4] = 4

Olive looks over everything twice more before their flight out. Prevent magical observation? Are they planning something with some magical scoundrels in the near future, or just setting up precautions? She considers the fact, before shaking her head. If it was important for what I need to do, they'd have told the Captain. That's good enough for me. Her inner doubts settled, she goes about memorizing the important parts of the mission that pertain to her, in particular her name and position.

Snow. Bit on the nose there, but it'll be a quick identifier for those who aren't on the team, she comments to herself, figuring it'd be easy enough to train herself to respond to it.

On the Death's Head Transport, the doggirl generally keeps to herself, looking over her data several times to memorize it. She notes that she's likely the only Psi-Hound in the two Fireteams, as well as the only one listed as "Naval Infantry." She gives a short chuckle to herself, wondering if the designation is due her species, the fact she doesn't look all that intimidating compared to her companions, or both. She squints at her listed alias for a few moments, parsing the symbols and their meaning in relation to her service number, and has to hold back a barking laugh. Her service number designation was simply flipped at the end. Wonder if the cat got the same treatment there.

As the trip begins to run long, she reaches for her duffel bag, looking through it for something to pass the time with. "Drat," she mumbles to herself, pulling out her small survival knife, ears folded back as she fails to find any of her blocks of wood. "Nothing to whittle the time away with." With a faint whine, she replaces her items, and hopes her seemingly indecisive motions go unnoticed by the team or other humans. She spends her time instead mentally reviewing what training she got for naval vessels, as well as repeating her new alias to herself like a mantra to get it to stick in her head enough that she'll respond to it on command.

Once everyone is finally off-loaded, and they are waiting for Howlett's word to board, "Snow" doesn't show any fatigue or impatience. Rather, she has to hold back her excitement. She was here to help the CS with something incredibly secret and important, and was more than prepared for this mission. Especially if it doesn't go like the last one did, she thinks to herself, desperately hoping she won't fail her humans now like she did her previous pack.

"Wonder if the crew'll know any good games to pass the time," Snow mentions to Culter, the squadmate she ended up walking/standing alongside after getting off of the final truck ride. She pauses, making sure she doesn't use his real name, before continuing, "If this assignment is as boring as we're expecting it to be, Elias, it'll be pretty boring to get cooped up on a boat for a week or so."

Culter · Post by **Culter** » Fri Nov 05, 2021 9:43 pm

Perception: 1d100: [66] = 66 / 54%
JiC: 1d20: [10] = 10 / 1d100: [32] = 32

Conditions:

Post:

The morning of the 0600 briefing goes normally for Culter who finds comfort in being so adjusted to waking up early that he pops out of bed to his alarm at 0400. The zapper has ample time to complete his morning workout and hygiene routine with over half an hour before the briefing left. Fully ready, the zapper channels his inner mental focus and meditates until about twenty til, then he makes his way to the briefing.

When he arrives, he'll do a passing nod to any of his teammates as he'll grab a PB&J, tea and a pastry before finding a seat. When passing the Major, he'll do a half salute, noting the Major's similar disposition to his own. Wonder what sort've routine the Major's got, if he works out early like I do... meh, one of the things I like about it is the not being near people part. Culter resounds, deciding against mentioning it to the Major.

When the briefing begins, Culter will listening intently to what is being said, taking mental notes of the travel path down the straight. Water maneuvers. They really did pick the slowest and arguably least secure way, didn't they. Oh well, hopefully no one else things the Coalition would do that. Culter muses, causing himself a soft and inaudible laugh.

When the Major prompts for questions, Culter almost raises his hand but stops. No, that's a stupid question. An outside party already knows about this. Of course, the brass is expecting trouble or else they wouldn't be sending us, not to mention the security. The zapper reconciles, at least until Garland speaks up. Good questions. The zapper thinks to himself but doesn't comment. When the Major responds to Garland in more depth, the zapper nods along. Answered my question. Alright, who am I? Elias Camden, huh. Brass dropped the ball on that one. Camden smiles to himself, shaking his head before looking back up when prompted for questions again. "No questions." Camden responds simply to the Major. I've always wanted to go on a cruise. He muses.

When dismissed, all is a blur. Camden swipes his rations, returns to his rack to gather his kit which he prepared the night before. He then immediately heads to where the Power Armor(s) are located and runs a check on them before locking it down and stowing it for transport as per protocol. Camden will ensure the transit paperwork is easily accessible on the PA(s) as well for the flight.

Inside the flight, Camden has experienced the sardine before and is comfortable settling in. Once the plane takes off, Camden will put himself into a meditative state with his helmet on, essentially sleeping for the flight unless woken up. When they land, Camden will also follow the captain's lead.

Robert Garland · Post by **Robert Garland** » Sun Nov 07, 2021 1:10 pm

Perception: 1d100: [13] = 13 /43%
JIC: 1d20: [1] = 1 ; 1d100: [76] = 76

Garland/Kirk listens to the response of the Major. Ok good. Sounds like things have been considered. Glad to see leadership taking these things seriously. I know too many who wouldn't. When the Major is finished Garland speaks again, "Thank you, Sir. We'll get the job done."

On the plane ride over Kirk is busy writing up a duty roster for roving guard of the ship.

Guard Roster wrote: 0600-1200:
- NCO: CPL Camden
- PVT Brown

1200-1800
- NCO: SFC Jones
- PVT Yarrow

1800-0000
- NCO: CPL Gregory
- PVT Black

0000-0600
- PVT Snow
- PVT Alexander

Kirk comes up to Captain Logan before they board the ship, "Captain Logan. I have the duty roster for your approval." Lt. Kirk will show the Captain the duty roster. Once he has blessed off on it Lt. Kirk will distribute the information to the soldiers before they board the ship.
"Listen up men. Our guard roster will consist of two man teams on roaming patrol on the ship. There will be 4 shifts of 6 hours. The teams will be as follows:
from: 0600 to 1200: - NCO: CPL Camden - PVT Brown
from: 1200 to 1800: - NCO: SFC Jones - PVT Yarrow
from: 1800 to 0000: - NCO: CPL Gregory - PVT Black
from: 0000 to 0600: - PVT Snow - PVT Alexander
Any questions? Good lets get on board." Lt Kirk will then follow the Captain on board the ship. Kirk will also set his three Skelebots to a constant patrol with varying durations of pauses to keep them from being predictable.

Post by **James Howlett** » Sun Nov 07, 2021 4:27 pm

Perception: 1d100: [41] = 41 /78%
Just in Case: 1d20: [1] = 1 ; 1d100: [54] = 54
Conditions: None
Cover Identity: Captain James Logan (Howlett) - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Combat Medic (CO)

James sits quietly while Major Smith gives the mission briefing, taking notes via internal computer on his HUD. All the while, James is looking at the Tablet provided. James begins the task of matching names to his people, with quick mental exercises. James doesn't see anything that really requires clarification. But listens to Lt. Kirk ask his, and makes notes about the response. Act like normal marines, keep the package safe, deliver the package to the site. Simple enough. James thinks before he looks to Major Smith. "A moment of your time sir. What do you know about the Captain? Specifically what kind of man is he?" James ask as his only question. Once answered, whether to his liking or not, James nods. "Thank you sir."

James gets up grabs a breakfast sandwich, and a cup of coffee, before looking at Aleksander. "Pack my ready bag, only essentials, and bring it to the armory." The modified skelebot begins to walk away without a word to do as he's told. As James walks with the rest of the team to the armory, James makes a pointed question to the team. "Is anyone not proficient with swimming?" James asks.

James just makes mental notes of the answers, but doesn't make any comments. Once in the armory, James takes the several minutes to fill out the paperwork. (Military Etiquette 1d100: [54] = 54 /66% (To make sure it's all filed properly.)) Almost like starting from scratch, Like Jonesboro all over again, I just hope it does not end the same. James thinks on his not auspicious start with the now defunct one hundred and tenth. James takes his gear and hands it over to Aleksander to hold while he begins the process of putting it on. Extra arms or no? James muses. James doesn't take the time to really mentally answer himself as he works with the armorer for the modified components. "What are the chances of a spare suit of power armor? specifically a suit of PA-10A Sea SAMAS." James asks prepared to fill in the paperwork for it.

James feels a bit strange in what most would call standard kit, having been special forces for so long, his normal kit was eclectic at best. "I feel like i am just out of boot all over again." James says to no one in particular. "Alright folks, let us get this circus moving. Sound off, Kirk, Jones, Camden, Black, Snow. Alright lets get loaded and on the road." James says listening for each teammate to sound off. Well at least they know there new names. James thinks as the list is highlighted in the corner of his HUD.

James does as he's instructed on his embarkment on the plane. At least we're not running from power armored mercenaries. James thinks as the flight takes off. Surprisingly enough James' eyes close and he dozes off for a short while. The planes landing wakes him. Must be more tired than I thought. James thinks as he oversees the truck being loaded, before boarding himself. A lot of pomp and circumstance for this. James thinks as the truck slows and the team begins to dismount. Alright, need to present my orders, get gear stowed, meet the other fire team, meet the scientist, meet the captain... ask for permission to board the ship... easy enough I guess." "Kirk get the boys on unloading if need be." James says as he looks for the next task.

If the Captain is present when they get there, James will approach. "Captain, my orders." James will say as he hands the man the necessary tablet. "Permission to board your fine vessel Captain?" James says with a smile.

Mane · Post by **Mane** » Thu Nov 11, 2021 9:35 pm

Perception (55% base); Friend or Foe Perception (90% base):
JIC Rolls: 1d100: [88] = 88 , 1d20: [9] = 9
Conditions: Recon Bionic Eye installed and ready to record at a moment's notice

Psychic Senses:

Sense Psychic & Magic Energy (80% base): 1d100: [5] = 5
Sense Supernatural Beings (74% base): 1d100: [92] = 92
Kitty Hearing:
- Discriminate between two sounds (flat 75%): 1d100: [68] = 68
- Judge Distance & Precise Location of Source (100% base): 1d100: [18] = 18
- Recognize & Identify Prey by Sounds (92% base):
  1d100: [56] = 56
Skill Rolls & Abilities
- I.D. Eneny in Disguise (65% base):See Perception roll above - Putting a scrutinizing eye on his fellow sailors
- Detect Ambush (100% base): 1d100: [72] = 72 - Keeping an eye out for possible sneaky spy action.
ALIAS: Private Black, Sea Cat

Mane enters the briefing room and regarded the clock, content that he wasn't excessively late for a change. Heeding Major Smith's words, the big cat loaded up on coffee and sandwiches; the breakfast-y-er, the better.

He listened intently to the new mission briefing, happy to finally be off floor-mopping duty and rid of the three Kill Hounds he was temporarily assigned to bunk with. And best yet, going south down the Mississippi meat warmer climates. How he was tired of the bone-chilling winter and snow. And if that meant having to be on the lookout for pirate scum and possibly taking a muddy water swim, so be it.

It then occurred to him that the circumstances may call for strategic or non-lethal CQB options, and he only loaded up on kill-weapons. He needed something like a neural mace -- or better yet, an electro stun spear -- if he was going to be fully specked out. Especially if he was going to be like the other mutant animals he'd need to blend in with.

It then occurred to Mane; Wait a minute. The Navy mostly used Sea Dogs... Labradors... How is a seven-foot albino lion supposed to fit in with a bunch of black-hair dogs? He considered raising his hand to ask the Major, but after the new guy's smart question, he felt his concern would only make him look stupid and self-centered.

After the meeting, Mane went to the armor to pick up his mission gear. He asked the duty sergeant if he could slip him a neural mace, too, but was told he'd need to fill out the paperwork and wait for CO approval. Mane didn't have that that kind of time, as his team was due to get on the transport shortly. And there was no way the crews would take long loading the two Mark V APCs it looked like they were bringing with.

Making due, Mane ... or rather PVT Black, the Sea Cat... suited up in his common DMP armor and gear, and started on his way to the transport to regroup with the team. But along the way, he noticed his not-so-good buddies, Ripper, Bundy, and Gacy walking his way, on their way out for an area denial mission, typical for Kill Hounds. And on Ripper's back, attached to a long sling, PVT Black saw exactly what he needed.

As Black the Cat walked by, stopped in front of Ripper. "Hey, let me see your stun spear for a second."

Reluctantly, Ripper complied. PVT Black then put the sling over his own shoulder and added the electro stun spear to his own back, along side the battle rifle he selected for this missions.

"Hey! I'm responsible for that!" Ripper cried out in protest as the big cat casually began to walk away.

In reply, over his shoulder without even looking back, PVT Black simply flipped him off.

Once on the transport, Mane found a seat suitable for his hefty mass and size. He considered taking off his boots, but the metal floor of the transport was cold, and he didn't want to subject his tootsies to that. He eased back and dared to dream of warm sand between his toes once again.

Before he knew it, PVT Black fell asleep. He hadn't realized it, but he had been losing sleep as of late due to his roommates. Either due to the din of noise they always seemed to make, or feeling the need to always be on guard around them.

When he awoke, the transport had already landed in Peoria, and the process of unloading was well underway. There after, he followed the team to the merchant marine ship they were going to board, and stood ready to begin their leisurely boat ride down to Baton Rouge, guarding the super secret techno-whats-it in the car-sized crate.

Once on board, PVT Black went on duty, looking his fellow sailors and crew up and down, scrutinizing whether they were legit' CS soldiers or merchant Marines, or possibly pirates in disguise gathering intelligence. Pirates are crafty. I wouldn't put it past them to have a few plants on the lookout for any juicy targets of opportunity. he thought to himself.

Post by **CS High Command** » Sun Nov 21, 2021 7:05 am

New Orders - Escort Duty

Date: March 5, 110 PA
Time: 0600 by end of post.
Temp: 28° outside, a brisk 60° in the hallways and 65° in most rooms.
Weather: Light dusting of snow. Not much accumulation over the past few days.
Ley Line info: There are multiple ley lines in the ruins of Old Chicago 80 miles away, but none in Chi-Town itself.
Location: CSS Sault Ste Marie at the Civilian Trade Port of Peoria, Berth 10 and then later on the CSS Sault Ste Marie steaming south towards
Reference:
Reconnaissance Landing Team 80-457 Bravo
Captain James Logan (Howlett) - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Combat Medic (CO)
Lt. Harry Kirk (Garland) - MOS: Technical Officer (XO)
Fireteam 1
SFC Grayson Jones (Egan Grey) - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
Corporal Elias Camden (Culter) - MOS: Technical Specialist
Private Black F75F-86A8 (Mane) - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
Private Snow D742-F922 (Olive) - MOS: Naval Infantry
Fireteam 2
Corporal James Gregory - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
- Corporal James Gregory is not a young man, nor does he act like one. He is gruff, short, and disciplined. He is also probably in his 40s, judging by his appearance. A life long veteran of the Nautical service, he leads this detachment with the efficiency of an experienced NCO. His Arkansas drawl marks his lower than expected rank. He probably transferred from Fort El Dorado's small Navy when they joined the Coalition officially.
Private Zachary Brown - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
- Private Zachary Brown, from Lone Star City apparantly, has a dark sense of humor and certain things he says makes one think that he liked to pull the wings off flies when he was a child. He gets the majority of the discipline from Corporal Gregory and often complains he is misunderstood.
Private Jillian Yarrow - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
- Private Jillian Yarrow is from the community of Brisco America, in the north of Lone Star and she is very proud of that. She has a different flag on the butt of her rifle - one that has red and white stripes and a blue field in the corner with a bunch of white stars on it. She says this is the flag of the old American empire and they've always flown them in her home town, right next to the CS Flag. She says it reminds her of home and an old Lt of hers told her it didn't violate regs as long as it was in an out of the way place and not on her armor or backpack. This creative problem solving seems to be a thing with her, as she shows when a crane sticks while offloading. She manages to get it low enough so Mane and Culter (in his power armor) can grab it. Her friendly and sunny personality are hard to dislike. She also loves mutant animals and is fascinated by both of them.
Private Ulysses Alexander - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
- Private Ulysses Alexander, from New Chilicothe, is easily the most earnest, and annoying, member of the squad, but mostly because he has literally fed on a diet of Coalition Propaganda from birth. The fact he is barely 19 doesn't help his case. That said, he seems to be the project of Corporal Gregory, who privately admits the young man has promise. Outwardly he is strict and always admonishing the young man to focus on his surroundings, not what others say about them. But based on what the squad has seen, the Corporal has a long way to go with the lad.
Guard Roster wrote: 0600-1200:
- NCO: CPL Camden
- PVT Brown

1200-1800
- NCO: SFC Jones
- PVT Yarrow

1800-0000
- NCO: CPL Gregory
- PVT Black

0000-0600
- PVT Snow
- PVT Alexander
CSS Sault Ste Marie - Merchant Marine Barge
Captain: Captain Jed Barber (Merchant Marine Corps, Retired CS Navy Lt.)
- Observant, conscientious and throrough man. He is from Arkansas and was a part of Fort El Dorado's Merchant Marine before it got folded into the greater Coaliton Merchant Marine organization.
Executive Officer: Lt. Jacob Fray (Merchant Marine Corps, Civilian [Secret: Retired CSID])
- Sneaky, Always testing, always probing personality. He is from Lone Star.
Chief of the Boat: Chief Petty Officer Hannah Isolde (Merchant Marine Corps, Retired CS Army)
- Heroic and heartfelt person who puts her people and their safety first. She is from Iowa and retired from the Army towards the end of the war. She was a sergeant of a support crew for armored units.
Engineer Lead: Petty Officer Isaac Yang (Merchant Marine Corps, Civilian)
- Older man, Experienced from New Chillicothe, Missouri - Been on the rivers making money all his life.
Payload Specialist: Petty Officer Susan Hawkins (Merchant Marine Corps, Retired CS Army [Secret: RCSG Operative])
- Artistic and creative personality. She is 'from Iowa.' She 'grew up on the river.'
16 Assorted other crew.

As James asks,

As the team arrives at the docks, they are met by their "reinforcements." They come up and introduce themselves to the Captain and Lt. After that they mix in with the squad.

Corporal James Gregory is not a young man, nor does he act like one. He is gruff, short, and disciplined. He is also probably in his 40s, judging by his appearance. A life long veteran of the Nautical service, he leads this detachment with the efficiency of an experienced NCO. His Arkansas drawl marks his lower than expected rank. He probably transferred from Fort El Dorado's small Navy when they joined the Coalition officially.
Private Zachary Brown, from Lone Star City apparantly, has a dark sense of humor and certain things he says makes one think that he liked to pull the wings off flies when he was a child. He gets the majority of the discipline from Corporal Gregory and often complains he is misunderstood.
Private Jillian Yarrow is from the community of Brisco America, in the north of Lone Star and she is very proud of that. She has a different flag on the butt of her rifle - one that has red and white stripes and a blue field in the corner with a bunch of white stars on it. She says this is the flag of the old American empire and they've always flown them in her home town, right next to the CS Flag. She says it reminds her of home and an old Lt of hers told her it didn't violate regs as long as it was in an out of the way place and not on her armor or backpack. This creative problem solving seems to be a thing with her, as she shows when a crane sticks while offloading. She manages to get it low enough so Mane and Culter (in his power armor) can grab it. Her friendly and sunny personality are hard to dislike. She also loves mutant animals and is fascinated by both of them.
Private Ulysses Alexander, from New Chilicothe, is easily the most earnest, and annoying, member of the squad, but mostly because he has literally fed on a diet of Coalition Propaganda from birth. The fact he is barely 18 doesn't help his case. That said, he seems to be the project of Corporal Gregory, who privately admits the young man has promise. Outwardly he is strict and always admonishing the young man to focus on his surroundings, not what others say about them. But based on what the squad has seen, the Corporal has a long way to go with the lad.

Coming aboard the ship, the squad finds it not yet loaded. The captain, executive officer and payload specialist meet Logan and Kirk and escort them to the Pilot House while Chief of the Boat, Chief Petty Officer Hannah Isolde, and Engineering Lead Crewman, Petty Officer Isaac Yang, show SFC Jones where to have his men put everything. Jones, utilizes Camden and Gregory to great effect, get this done. The ship itself, they find, a rather uncomplicated design. Aside from a two story engine area and workshop at the aft (rear) of the ship, and a pilot house and cabin near the bow (front), the deck is largely clear of anything but places to secure cargo (lines of holes meant for ease of securing straps). There is a hover landing pad next to the cabin and pilot house. A pair of AFC-23 Skycycles are parked there. Nearby, next to the building, a pair of sheds meant to keep the power armor out of the rain sit open. The sides are closed in from the top down to about knee level - allowing for the movement of air, along with a couple of vents at the top and a pair of fans. The utility of this becomes obvious as the sun bakes the metal roofs and heats up the power armor bays.

In the pilot house, Captain Barber begins as soon as the door is closed. "Gentlemen, Ma'am, I know we all have our orders and understand them perfectly, but I need to make something clear. While I will always take your advice and viewpoints, I am Captain on this ship. You are in charge of military action, I am in charge of literally everything else. I say this not to wave my... rank.. around, but to establish what my men expect to see. Most naval infantry detachments we get treat this posting as a joke or a cruise, barely pulling their watch duties. I expect your men will be a hell of a lot more efficient than that. I suggest you get them to loosen up some, or you'll tip off every pirate from here to Greenville. I figure if your folks loosen up, and I tighten mine up, we'll meet somewhere in between at where we need to be. I know you two and Petty Officer Hawkins need to chat, and we'll leave you to do that, but don' take long please. We'll be outside chatting while we wait. I need the Petty Officer loading those containers inside the next fifteen minutes. That's about how long I expect it will take mine and yours to finish loading your gear to the point were mine need to be loading containers."

As the Captain and XO leave, 'Hawkins' speaks up. "Sirs, if I may transmit something to you?" Given their assent, she pulls out a tablet and transmits something to them both. It is a coded, short range, message that only decrypts when they use the codes given to them earlier. "That is the container ID code and the action codes to enter in the case of being boarded and overwhelmed, or before we complete the transfer in Greenville. Until Greenville, per orders, please treat me as part of the crew. My intent is to put the container right near the exit to the crew cabin so we can find it, but the ID code will show you precisely which one it is. It will be on the second row, veritcally. We'll be attaching scaffolding to the container stacks after we get them in. Mostly that is for me, but traditionally the crew will use them as places to stand and sit above the deck. Don't be alarmed by this. Any questions? Also, do you have any specific code phrases I need to know?" She waits for them to answer.

When they are done she nods and gives them a quick salute, as per protocol of standard military and exits the room. Once she does, Lt. Fray steps back in and hands her a pad as she leaves. "That's the manifest Hawkins, get the Sault Ste Marie loaded." He then looks to them. "Captain, I assume your own XO will have the duty roster, so why don't he and I go over it. If you want, Captain was going to give you a tour of the ship, such as it is, while you wait. or you can stay for the endless questions and answers." He grins a bit at this. He glances at Kirk. "I'll give you the one credit tour later after we're done." Either way he goes into the 12 hour duty roster of the ship and how to work in bunk rotations and showers and meal time. Shipboard life is very regimented, and unsurprisingly there is a lot of scheduling and rules for when you can take advantage of the limited facilities.

The Loading Process goes off without a hitch, though it takes forever. Behind the back of the engineering building, a pair of loader robots stand vigil. They are a pair of large open frame robots with an open pilot compartment with a single seat and only lightly armored glass around the pilot, though it does seem to be environmentally controlled at least. The Enforcer sized robots are being stored until they are fired up to bring on cargo containers. After the Naval Infantry team loads in their gear, as well as the skycycles, they begin loading a gross (144) of 40 foot refrigerated cargo containers. Usually this means food stuffs, medicines, or some chemicals and consumer goods. None of it particularly valuable to the average pirate - but valuable enough to post guards anyway. From then on the squad operates in teams of two to cover all avenues of approach to the ship as well as the loading area.

Petty Officer Susan Hawkins is supervising and checking off manifests and personally escorts a dozen specific containers into position. These then have special scaffolding frames inserted. One container is placed, with frames, then six more are placed next to it, and then the last has frames put in. The next row is very precisely placed to interface with the scaffolding frames and the process repeats for the third row as well. Hawkins does not supervise all the intervening supports, which seem to not interface with the containers above. By the time the first row is done, the crew is already placing scaffolding grates into place that are the width of the containers they attach to. The process has them following the placement of containers steadily as it goes. The end frames have ladders built in and allow the entire thing to be scaled easily. If anyone asks an idle crewman about it, they mention the scaffolding are only because they are refrigerated units, which have to be maintained a lot more than normal ones. As the containers are loaded, their cooling units are placed out towards the rows, and the scaffolding. Their doors are jammed up against each other - restricting access to them.

After everything is loaded (and that takes a while), the crews begin hooking cables up to special ports on the deck that are made active by Yang (engineer) or Isolde (chief of the boat; lead NCO). They do this by opening ports that the squad realize are in rows next to the rows of securing tie down holes. They insert something into a plug and call out something on a radio to the Captain, who is in the engine room. He then punches in the codes onto a console there, and suddenly the circuit is live. After ensuring the new connector is secure, the cable is brought to the NCO in question, secured, and then the crew begins hooking those refrigerated units up to the ship's power system using extension cables leading from that one line which stretches across the second row of scaffolding. This then goes on for each unit, each individually checked by the COB or Payload Specialist. This tedious process is thankfully completed with efficient familiarity on the part of both of them. Those in the 40-4th that wonder at such things wonder how many drills this scientist had to go through to learn how to do this as well as she has.

During this power on process, crewmen start rotating out for food, rest and naps. Only the Captain, COB and Payload Specialist work through the entire 10 hour process. They then make sure the ship is secure, asking the Naval Infantry to check every nook and cranny for stow aways. A crewman with a radio accompanies each of the squad, so they can call anything in or point out things which only an experienced eye would notice. Only after this does the ship cast off with a cheer from the crew. So it is, at 2200, that the ship is finally underway.

The overnight shift goes well, with everyone falling into their scheduled sleep and work patterns quickly. Hotbunking allows everyone to get a good 8 hours of rack time, though not everyone takes it. Each bunk has its own fan and privacy screen, and many have their own Personal Video devices they store in their lockers and charge at night while sleeping. Everyone also has scheduled shower times and scheduled showers. It becomes quickly known that the curtains in the showers must be drawn as people still use the bathrooms they are assigned. Women are assigned on in particular and rotate out of it fairly often. Discipline is maintained harshly for the sailors, but its clear that it is necessary for the rowdy bunch. Time at the tables is also strictly regimented, with timers allowing only 30 minutes of time at a table in a row. For this reason card games often are either short or play out on the scaffolding with flexible metal lined cards, light metal chips, and magnetic mats. Anyone off duty can usually find a game if they want one - everything from Hearts to Blackjack to Lone Star Hold Em. Only during inspection times are the scaffolds truly vacated. There are a pair of bathrooms near the engine room and its where sailors go for privacy with the "reading material" of their choice.

As 0600 rolls around, Snow, the dog girl, and Private Alexander go to find their relief. Both then head to get something to eat and shower before unwinding until their bunks open up.

Post by **James Howlett** » Thu Nov 25, 2021 1:06 pm

Perception: 1d100: [86] = 86 /78%
Just in Case: 1d20: [17] = 17 ; 1d100: [50] = 50
Conditions: None
Cover Identity: Captain James Logan (Howlett) - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Combat Medic (CO)

CS High Command wrote:Two Captains, Two Lieutenants, and a Petty Officer walk up the stairs to the pilot house.
In the pilot house, Captain Barber begins as soon as the door is closed. "Gentlemen, Ma'am, I know we all have our orders and understand them perfectly, but I need to make something clear. While I will always take your advice and viewpoints, I am Captain on this ship. You are in charge of military action, I am in charge of literally everything else. I say this not to wave my... rank.. around, but to establish what my men expect to see. Most naval infantry detachments we get treat this posting as a joke or a cruise, barely pulling their watch duties. I expect your men will be a hell of a lot more efficient than that. I suggest you get them to loosen up some, or you'll tip off every pirate from here to Greenville. I figure if your folks loosen up, and I tighten mine up, we'll meet somewhere in between at where we need to be. I know you two and Petty Officer Hawkins need to chat, and we'll leave you to do that, but don' take long please. We'll be outside chatting while we wait. I need the Petty Officer loading those containers inside the next fifteen minutes. That's about how long I expect it will take mine and yours to finish loading your gear to the point were mine need to be loading containers."

As the Captain and XO leave, 'Hawkins' speaks up. "Sirs, if I may transmit something to you?" Given their assent, she pulls out a tablet and transmits something to them both. It is a coded, short range, message that only decrypts when they use the codes given to them earlier. "That is the container ID code and the action codes to enter in the case of being boarded and overwhelmed, or before we complete the transfer in Greenville. Until Greenville, per orders, please treat me as part of the crew. My intent is to put the container right near the exit to the crew cabin so we can find it, but the ID code will show you precisely which one it is. It will be on the second row, veritcally. We'll be attaching scaffolding to the container stacks after we get them in. Mostly that is for me, but traditionally the crew will use them as places to stand and sit above the deck. Don't be alarmed by this. Any questions? Also, do you have any specific code phrases I need to know?" She waits for them to answer.

James already takes a liking to the Captain, he smiles. James listens to the Captains observations, and nods. So act like they are lazy, should be an interesting challenge. James thinks as the Captain continues. Before the Captain and the XO leave. "I'll instruct my men as such, should be interesting at the very least." James says.

James clams up when the payload specialist begins talking, making mental notes. When she asks to transmit, James nods and awaits the file, when recieved he files it for near future reading. When Hawkins asks about code phrases, James is surprised, but suddenly has an idea. "Two to be precise, but to be honest they only come out in dire peril. First is Atlantis, if you hear that find yourself cover, because it's about to get messy. Second is Ford, if you hear that get off the ship." James says but then pauses. "I really hope neither of them come up." James adds.

James quickly unlocks the file and looks it over, makes mental notes, encrypts it once more and stores it. "Let us get this shindig started."

When the Captain and the XO return, James nods.

CS High Command wrote:"Captain, I assume your own XO will have the duty roster, so why don't he and I go over it. If you want, Captain was going to give you a tour of the ship, such as it is, while you wait. or you can stay for the endless questions and answers." He grins a bit at this. He glances at Kirk. "I'll give you the one credit tour later after we're done."

James nods and gestures for Kirk to do as requested. "A tour would be nice." James says as he follows the Captain on a tour of his ship. James makes a map of the vessel and stores it for later use on his HUD if need be. Once the tour is over, James looks to the Captain. "She is a fine vessel and I look forward to working together Captain, let me know if you need anything from me or my men." James say.

During the loading and powering up process, James too rotates his team for food and breaks, but like the Captain, and the Payload Specialist, he stays on deck and watches the whole process. During this time James prepares a message for the team.

Code: Select all

Code words, if either of these are heard from Lieutenant Kirk or Myself perform the following actions:

Atlantis: All hands weapons free, collateral damage is forgiven.

Ford: Scuttle the ship.

James sends the message as coded in team encryption and only sends it to his normal team, leaving the secondary fire team out of it. When the ship is finally underway, James finally goes to find some food. The idea of hot bunking is fine to James, having done so several times in the past, but it's still not normal to him, and he fails to get what one would call a good nights sleep.

Culter · Post by **Culter** » Thu Dec 02, 2021 7:30 pm

Perception: 1d100: [65] = 65 / 54%
JiC: 1d20: [18] = 18 / 1d100: [74] = 74

Conditions:

Skill:
Read Sensory Equipment -- 1d100: [33] = 33 /55% (Watch teh radar and optics)
Electronic Countermeasures -- 1d100: [52] = 52 /65% (Prevent signal jamming and be ready to jam signals if needed)
Military Tactics -- 1d100: [18] = 18 /60% (If I were trying to raid a barge guarded by Coalition Special Forces... how would I do it?)
Intelligence -- 1d100: [68] = 68 /52%
Detect Ambush -- 1d100: [5] = 5 /70% (Key points of ambush. Will call out when approaching potential ambush sites to ensure crew is ready to scramble.)NEARLY A CRIT *sadface*
ID Undercover Agent -- 1d100: [73] = 73 /52% (Other ships, random passergoes as bad agents)
Camouflage -- 1d100: [68] = 68 /35% (Any camo markings that Culter can spot in the treelines to show potential blinds)

Post:

Culter falls right into work, having done time in the reg bats prior to specops, he's all too familiar with bucks like Gregory. Not sure about our regs yet. Too soon to tell Culter thinks briefly. Culter turns to Gregory after Jones tags them to help. "We should have Privates Black and Snow secure the Stairs to the Pilothouse and the Engine Room. Put Brown, Yarrow and Alexander on Ramp access, One at bottom, two on the ship." Culter states, looking to Jones for confirmation or denial.

If confirmed, Culter will follow his idea, if not, he will do as ordered. Either way, Culter walks the security of the bow of the ship, always moving and keeping eyes on the rails, the portholes and doors, any ladders or wetmarks (or stands wherever). Culter will also constantly move back and forth to keep eyes on the Ramp and the access door to the tower of the ship as best as he can. I hate this part. Hurry up and wait but the moment you don't pay attention a bullet wizzes past you. Culter chides, remembering all too many formerly boring guard shifts that turned into life threatening firefights.

Once loadout is done and the barge sets off, Culter finds himself on passive guard duty and food then rest. He wakes up on the barge early in the morning, well before his shift, fairly well rested and reading himself. This allows him to take his time and get food, fully dressed and loaded out in his SAMAS and ready without much issue. May as well play the role anyways, I hate not being airbourne. Culter thinks briefly. Culter will arrive to meet Snow and Alexander a solid thirty minutes ahead of his shift, so that they can have time to talk to him and let him know about anything that happened overnight. "Sounds good. Once Brown gets here, you two can head out." Culter will state (not expecting him until 15mins prior.)

To Brown, "Alright, brass is up, so keep your head on a swivel and don't stop moving. Watch the rails, wetmarks, anything that shouldn't be there. Call in anything before investigating." Culter states to Brown, falling into NCO mode. Last thing we need is a lone wolf. Culter thinks in his mind.

During his shift, Culter will keep a constant watch on his radar and sensor sweeps. When off shift, Culter will keep track of where they are and be ready to scramble in his SAMAS at the first sign of trouble.

Olive · Post by **Olive** » Mon Dec 06, 2021 4:18 pm

Perception: 1d100: [25] = 25 / 77%

Ordnance AT Perception Bonuses

Rescue AT Perception Bonuses

JiC d100: 1d100: [74] = 74 ; JiC d20: 1d20: [6] = 6
Cover Identity: Private Snow D742-F922

Private Snow does her best to curb her enthusiasm. Despite the slow start, the Psi-Hound finds the experience fresh, a change of pace from the routine of base life she had been settling into. First time I'll be on a ship longer than to get from place to place, but if I'm going to fit in with Naval personnel I can't be too excited. She spends her time during load-out, if not otherwise assigned, observing the crew and how they behave, hoping to learn to emulate some of their actions so she doesn't stand out like a tourist in Chi-Town.

Olive's patrol with Alexander goes quietly, but not for lack of talk between the two. While the other's find the Private's spouting of propaganda annoying, the doggirl finds it informative to the highest degree, and takes a quick liking to the trooper, sharing stories and gushing about the CS whenever she can. Her ears twitch about, as even in light conversation she makes sure to do her duty and watch the boat.

Culter wrote:Culter will arrive to meet Snow and Alexander a solid thirty minutes ahead of his shift, so that they can have time to talk to him and let him know about anything that happened overnight. "Sounds good. Once Brown gets here, you two can head out." Culter will state.

Olive nods. "Nothing to report. Just a boring night." She flashes a grin at Alexander. "He knows his stuff, though! Pretty happy with the current rotation."

Mane · Post by **Mane** » Tue Dec 07, 2021 4:32 pm

Perception (55% base); Friend or Foe Perception (90% base): 1d100: [61] = 61
JIC Rolls: 1d20: [5] = 5 , 1d100: [92] = 92
Conditions: Recon Bionic Eye installed and ready to record at a moment's notice; battle eye in his pocket and ready for a how swap.

Psychic Senses:

Sense Psychic & Magic Energy (80% base): 1d100: [83] = 83
Sense Supernatural Beings (74% base): 1d100: [28] = 28

Kitty Hearing:

Discriminate between two sounds (flat 75%): 1d100: [36] = 36
Judge Distance & Precise Location of Source (100% base): 1d100: [21] = 21
Recognize & Identify Prey by Sounds (92% base): 1d100: [96] = 96

Skill Rolls & Abilities

I.D. Eneny in Disguise (65% base):See Perception roll above - Putting a scrutinizing eye on his fellow sailors
Detect Ambush (100% base): 1d100: [37] = 37 - Keeping an eye out for suspicious activity or anything out of place.

ALIAS: Private Black, Sea Cat

Upon setting his eyes on the cargo vessel, Mane was initially disappointed. For some reason he expected something bristling with cannons and missile turrets, ready to fend off the hoards of river pirates In a glorious display of superior firepower. Instead, they got this, a laker where the pirates' biggest concern would be getting tetanus... and the 40-4th, now.

As the boss and XO got the red carpet, Mane made himself useful. Seeing the Load Master and crew hard at work, getting ready to onboard the cargo containers, the big cat walked over to the large loader robots. He patted one on the thigh as he walked by and went to the Load Master directly.

Private Black, sea cat, reporting for duty. I bench 1.9 tons, and don't mind getting my hands dirty. How may I assist, sir.?

For the next several hours (if permitted), Mane put himself to use as a walking forklift, loading up the ships smaller containers and building the callouses on his hands. It was far from glamorous work, but familiar and comfortable just the same. Plus, it gave Mane a chance to get a look around much of the ship's vast cargo area and get a feel for it's various nooks and crannies; all the good hiding places an enemy my try to take advantage of, or vice versa if need be. It also gave him the opportunity to help cement his cover ID as PVT Black, intrepid Sea Cat at large, and be seen with the crew doing ordinary ship-related activities by any onlookers; both those with or without any ill intentions.

Later, Mane sought out his team to find out what his assignment would be more specifically. He knew he would be paired with the old sea dog (the human variety) CPL James Gregory for the 1800-0000 watch shift, but that was about it. Finally, he came across Culter, or "Corporal Elias Camden".

Culter wrote: Culter turns to Gregory after Jones tags them to help. "We should have Privates Black and Snow secure the Stairs to the Pilothouse and the Engine Room. Put Brown, Yarrow and Alexander on Ramp access, One at bottom, two on the ship." Culter states, looking to Jones for confirmation or denial.

"Dibs on the pilothouse. It will be more quiet up there, and I have sensitive ears.”

Later, after the ship went under way at 2200 hours, Mane reported to the man he was paired with for their watch shift; CPL James Gregory.

"Corporal? Private Black, reporting for watch." Mane extended his girthy hand for a cordial shake after giving him a respectful salute.

Post by **CS High Command** » Sun Jan 23, 2022 5:19 am

New Orders - Escort Duty

Date: March 6, 110 PA
Time: 1750 by end of post.
Temp: 46°and clear
Weather: The weather is quite clear and there is no snow on the ground currently. There are a few ice patches in the river, especially near the banks, but not many and most are flowing with the river from points further north. There are still big patches of snow and ice on the containers, but that too is melting away.
Ley Line info: The St. Louis Arch is the largest and most active permanent rift known to all nations of humanity. It is massive in size, scope, and the number of worlds it touches. A thousand skyscapes are seen through its doors, including what looks to be the black of space with a gorgeous array of stars and rocks. Seconds later is is replaced by a mountain that dwarfs the gate itself, so large only part of it can be seen, despite it being very distant. The sheer amount of magic is distracting to the mutant animals and any psychics find the ordeal uncomfortable, but bearable.
Location: Within the last quarter mile of the arch. The convoy has entered the protected channel.
Reference:
Reconnaissance Landing Team 80-457 Bravo
Captain James Logan (Howlett) - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Combat Medic (CO)
Lt. Harry Kirk (Garland) - MOS: Technical Officer (XO)
Fireteam 1
SFC Grayson Jones (Egan Grey) - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
Corporal Elias Camden (Culter) - MOS: Technical Specialist
Private Black F75F-86A8 (Mane) - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
Private Snow D742-F922 (Olive) - MOS: Naval Infantry
Fireteam 2
Corporal James Gregory - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
- Corporal James Gregory is not a young man, nor does he act like one. He is gruff, short, and disciplined. He is also probably in his 40s, judging by his appearance. A life long veteran of the Nautical service, he leads this detachment with the efficiency of an experienced NCO. His Arkansas drawl marks his lower than expected rank. He probably transferred from Fort El Dorado's small Navy when they joined the Coalition officially.
Private Zachary Brown - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
- Private Zachary Brown, from Lone Star City apparantly, has a dark sense of humor and certain things he says makes one think that he liked to pull the wings off flies when he was a child. He gets the majority of the discipline from Corporal Gregory and often complains he is misunderstood.
Private Jillian Yarrow - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
- Private Jillian Yarrow is from the community of Brisco America, in the north of Lone Star and she is very proud of that. She has a different flag on the butt of her rifle - one that has red and white stripes and a blue field in the corner with a bunch of white stars on it. She says this is the flag of the old American empire and they've always flown them in her home town, right next to the CS Flag. She says it reminds her of home and an old Lt of hers told her it didn't violate regs as long as it was in an out of the way place and not on her armor or backpack. This creative problem solving seems to be a thing with her, as she shows when a crane sticks while offloading. She manages to get it low enough so Mane and Culter (in his power armor) can grab it. Her friendly and sunny personality are hard to dislike. She also loves mutant animals and is fascinated by both of them.
Private Ulysses Alexander - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
- Private Ulysses Alexander, from New Chilicothe, is easily the most earnest, and annoying, member of the squad, but mostly because he has literally fed on a diet of Coalition Propaganda from birth. The fact he is barely 19 doesn't help his case. That said, he seems to be the project of Corporal Gregory, who privately admits the young man has promise. Outwardly he is strict and always admonishing the young man to focus on his surroundings, not what others say about them. But based on what the squad has seen, the Corporal has a long way to go with the lad.
Guard Roster wrote: 0600-1200:
- NCO: CPL Camden
- PVT Brown

1200-1800
- NCO: SFC Jones
- PVT Yarrow

1800-0000
- NCO: CPL Gregory
- PVT Black

0000-0600
- PVT Snow
- PVT Alexander
CSS Sault Ste Marie - Merchant Marine Barge
Captain: Captain Jed Barber (Merchant Marine Corps, Retired CS Navy Lt.)
- Observant, conscientious and throrough man. He is from Arkansas and was a part of Fort El Dorado's Merchant Marine before it got folded into the greater Coaliton Merchant Marine organization.
Executive Officer: Lt. Jacob Fray (Merchant Marine Corps, Civilian [Secret: Retired CSID])
- Sneaky, Always testing, always probing personality. He is from Lone Star.
Chief of the Boat: Chief Petty Officer Hannah Isolde (Merchant Marine Corps, Retired CS Army)
- Heroic and heartfelt person who puts her people and their safety first. She is from Iowa and retired from the Army towards the end of the war. She was a sergeant of a support crew for armored units.
Engineer Lead: Petty Officer Isaac Yang (Merchant Marine Corps, Civilian)
- Older man, Experienced from New Chillicothe, Missouri - Been on the rivers making money all his life.
Payload Specialist: Petty Officer Susan Hawkins (Merchant Marine Corps, Retired CS Army [Secret: RCSG Operative])
- Artistic and creative personality. She is 'from Iowa.' She 'grew up on the river.'
16 Assorted other crew.

The team does end up getting the message to loosen up their normal efficiency, privately. Private Alexabder grows to love Olive's enthusiasm and the fact she is an eager listener. He is not a great speaker, or even have a great memory, but he is very enthusiastic and does tend to run in circles repeating himself if questioned at all. Despite that, he means well and makes the otherwise boring shift go well. Mane finds Corporal Gregory taciturn and disciplined, but polite - if not nice. He keeps chatter to a minimum, except while off duty, where he mostly looks after his team. Olive finds herself also being guided by the NCO, intentionally or not, simply because she gets on so well with Alexander. Brown responds to Culter's discipline with practice and seems eager to impress him.

The cruise up the river would be relaxing were it not for the very top secret mission the team is on. Still, it's hard not to enjoy the off time, whether its playing cards with some of the crew or other soldiers, or simply watching the river slowly roll by. The river may be filled with danger, but the banks are still interspersed with small settlements. By 10am they pass a town on the west bank the sailors call Griggston. One of them remarks, "That's one of the last CS towns before you get to Arkansas. Quite a few human cities, towns and villages, but that's the last CS port of any size after Peoria and before the Arch." Calling it a port is a misnomer, of course, but it has a sizeable pier and its obvious barge traffic does pull up to its piers. Even now a tugboat and unpowered barge are tied to its docks and cranes and forklifts are being used to unload containers. Otherwise it boasts only small craft, nothing larger than 18 feet.

It's 1500 (3 pm) when the barge passes where the Missouri River meets the Illinois River and it all becomes the Mississippi River. Their escort changes with a small convoy of barracudas out of CS Hannibal, the CS Port that controls access to the Minnesota Containment Zone. They check in with the Captain, who asks his XO, Howlet, and his XO to the Pilot house. The ships pull up a secure and encrypted radio link and brief each other on what has happened so far. Given the quiet nature of the barge's trip so far, the escort from Peoria seems relieved to be able to head back after being told there are no scheduled barges for about 24 hours. The lead ship of the flotilla hails the ship once the link is established. "Sault Ste Marie, be advised we have been warned of an active day at the Gateway Arch. That doesn't mean quite the shitstorm it used to mean after the containment facility went up, but it doesn't mean we sit on our laurels either. When we pass it, we will keep to the east channel, which is very clearly marked. If something happens you gun those engines for everything you've got and prepare for boarders. Most of the time it's flying monsters, but we've had a few teleporters come through in the past month. Most ground based threats don't make it out of the containment walls. The soldiers there are always on high alert, so we should be fine, but as always, watch your ass, keep quiet, and let's get through it. We'll hand you off at Fort Girardeau, and that escort flotilla will take you the rest of the way. How copy?"

The captain hits the transmit button. "Sault Ste Marie copies good. We will be setting for optimal and alert watch. Confirm time of arrival to Devil's Gate region in two to three hours, and then time in region should be about an hour after that. With arrival to Fort Girardeau 8 hours after that? How copy?"

"New London Copies. Confirming that we should arrive in the outer environs by 1730 and be out by 1830, with some allowable variance. Correction. We project reaching Girardeau by 0300, not 0200. Our schedule shows you with a port of call at Girardeau. Is that correct? Over."

The captain nods absentmindedly and then replies. "That is confirmed New London." He pauses and looks to James, as if asking him if he wants to ask anything. If Howlet needs to say anything, he keys the mic. "Hold for Captain Logan of RLT 80-457 Bravo." He then hands it off and asks for the mic back once he's finished. Whenever James is done, or if he does not need anything, Captain Barber takes the mic and then replies. "Barber here. Sault Ste Marie out. Fair Winds and Following Seas."

"Fair Winds and Following Seas. New London out."

They have recieved transmissions of threat assessments, used electronic measure to send back engagement plans and code words, all normal and basic protocols handled with skill and efficiency by his own XO. That includes knowledge of the full arsenal and containment measures, as much as any regular unit can know. James has some more information, given to him in Chi-Town by his own chain of command, it really only fills in a few obvious gaps. In large part the installation is a meatgrinder barely keeping a lid on a bomb that goes off regularly.

For what most regard as a curiousity they may or may not have taken note of, the RCSG's Devil's Gate Containment Facility is a near miracle for shipping up and down the river. "At the start of the Crusade for Humanity, the Rifts Control Study Group gained approval to create a massive bunker facility to contain and study the indestructible portal. Hundreds of CS personnel died in the operation. At a steep cost in men and materiel, the project already eradicated nearly ten thousand creatures who appeared from the arch. The RCSG claims to be making slow headway, but in truth they deal with forces still far beyond their comprehension. For the time, at least, trade and shipping along the Mississippi is safer than ever before, giving the Coalition unprecedented access to the southern reaches of the river where it meets the Gulf of Mexico, much to the benefit of the new state of El Dorado and the burgeoning naval base in Baton Rouge."

Of course that rosy assessment has nothing to do with the reality. As the ship comes into view of the Arch, the reality of the sheer size of the arch is boggling. The specs say it is 630 feet across and tall, and it looks every bit of that. It dwarfs even the 100 foot tall boundry wall that surrounds it, with towers bristling with weapons at regular intervals. For those who saw the Black Vault, they see very similar design notes in regards to overlapping arcs of fire and incredible weight fo fire. Out in the water there are towers built into the river which mark the channel supposed to be used by river traffic - easily wide enough to let three barges sail abreast. The towers also hold weapons turrets, easily able to add to the weight of fire on the ever present rift, or the traffic in the channel. The rift shimmers much like a wall of water and ley line energy, shifting and showing alien skies at random. While they are just coming into view, still 45 minutes away, a large flying creature flies out of the arch out of one such skyscape and is immediately swarmed by missiles, railgun fire and SAMAS power armor, backed by skycycles. It is dead within 30 seconds, though it seems to have been powerful enough to send a few of the response team down. Still, within 10 minutes a recovery hovercraft as removed the body of the creature and a rescue team is sent immediately for the downed defenders.

As the crew comes into close proximity, they are all deployed per orders. Everyone is on deck and prepared. Corporal Gregory suggests either Yarrow or Brown for the extra power armor. He also offers to man the sky cycle unless someone else wants to do it. But in all things he is respectful and not pushy. The crew of the ship have also put on body armor and taken up arms - mostly L-20 and NGL5 laser rifles. There are a couple of older C-27 Plasma rifles in the hands of their strongest men. All are reminded to keep their weapons fire clear of the containers. "Let the soldiers handle close in precision shooting. The Coalition insures them against loss. We don't insure you for it. Don't be the dumbass that blows up our cargo. Single shots, no burst fire unless you've been certified for it. I'll dock you a day's pay if I catch you spraying weapons fire randomly! Pick your targets and listen for coordination from your section leads. It's just Wednesday, not the end of the world. The Coalition is on guard and will handle it, we only have to protect ourselves. We should be clear of the Devil's Gate in 30 minutes. We get through this and the first round in port is on the captain." A cheer goes up and they are quickly silenced, but it serves to break the tension.

GM Instructions:
Assume at some point the majority, if not all of the warning is relayed to all of you. James and Garland can edit it if they want to (good way to pad out your post lol) but the gist is definitely relayed to all of you.

So where are your stationed? Two are stationed at the pilot house, two at the engineering shack, and two are posted up on the highest inspection gantries. The Skycycle is in the air, and both power armor are in use. I will post a picture of what you see over the next few days, but be prepared for anything. You don't need a combat post, but do post an initiative roll, JIC, a generic saving throw, and two perception checks for your post. Don't worry about power use unless it lasts minutes. You'll have time to activate things before it gets too hairy. Describe what you are feeling and thinking as you pass by this massive edifice of everything wrong about the world. It's not every day you are this close to the St. Louis Arch. The ship also mounted railguns that can be manned in the event of an attack.

Culter · Post by **Culter** » Sat Jan 29, 2022 9:18 am

Perception: 1d100: [74] = 74 / 54%
JiC: 1d20: [15] = 15 / 1d100: [83] = 83

Conditions:

Skill:
Read Sensory Equipment -- 1d100: [15] = 15 /55% (Monitoring all sensors; will drop eletrokinetic aura as needed)
Detect Ambush -- 1d100: [56] = 56 /70% (Watching for signs of impending attack)
Pilot, PA -- 1d100: [22] = 22 /75% (SAMAS)

Post:

Culter has no issue falling back into custom with the regs he used to run with, though he was always a little more motivated than most in his soldiering squads. Coming from a high profile background, he's been so accustomed to living under a spotlight that operating loosely is a hard fix. Loosen up, I can do that. I'm not uptight... just motivated and loyal, yeah. Culter thinks after the mention, taking a deep breathe privately. Culter finds the time to be oddly relaxing for a Coalition mission, especially one involving a team of their caliber.

Knowledgeable Sailor wrote:"That's one of the last CS towns before you get to Arkansas. Quite a few human cities, towns and villages, but that's the last CS port of any size after Peoria and before the Arch."

Culter nods along, smirking softly. Never seen the so called Arch, hell, I've never really been that far south. I've usually been deployed north... Culter thinks to himself. The small port of a town long gone in his view as he returns his gaze to the horizon. Even after the quiet order, the zapper still unable to peel away from watcher mode. At the MR/IR Intersection, Culter's straightens in whatever posture he was in. Never be too careless in water-ops. Hate it. Hopefully I don't have to go underwater. Culter thinks as they pass by until they reach CS Hannibal. Culter stays where he is supposed to be.

When Culter hears the warning about the Arch's activity, he rolls his neck in his armor and nods along. I'll be flying high. Or in Engineering... No, I'm more useful out there Culter thinks listening to the warning about flying monsters and teleporters. He spends a lot of time fighting demons.

When the sight of the large arch is seen on the distance, Culter leans over and looks at it in near awe before finding his posture again. Impressively horrifying. Culter thinks. A literal gate to hell... just. Sitting there. Screw all that. Culter scoffs, not liking the foreboding structure. Culter's hair stands on end when he spots the aerial combatant escaping the Arch but is relieved and impressed by the sheer level of firepower brought down on it. "Wicked." Culter mutters in response to the onslaught. Then came the order to deploy.

Orders wrote:"Let the soldiers handle close in precision shooting. The Coalition insures them against loss. We don't insure you for it. Don't be the dumbass that blows up our cargo. Single shots, no burst fire unless you've been certified for it. I'll dock you a day's pay if I catch you spraying weapons fire randomly! Pick your targets and listen for coordination from your section leads. It's just Wednesday, not the end of the world. The Coalition is on guard and will handle it, we only have to protect ourselves. We should be clear of the Devil's Gate in 30 minutes. We get through this and the first round in port is on the captain."

Culter slaps the stock of his Railgun and kicks in his hover-jets as the wings on his Smiling Jack open up. "Cadmen going airborne." Culter states after the order and kicks off the deck. "Airborne units; interlocking defense pattern. No chatter." Culter chirps to the pilots of the Sky Cycle and other airborne SAMAS, regardless of whom may be flying them. Culter will stay in the air doing his patrol, feeling more at ease now that he is actively in his role. Ironic that I am more relaxed near danger and less relaxed while idling. Culter muses mid flight. Otherwise, Culter will fly silently, watching his sectors but keeping an uneasy eye in the direction of the Arch at all times. Praise the men and women that are stationed there. Culter silently offers.

Olive · Post by **Olive** » Sun Jan 30, 2022 2:06 am

Perception: 1d100: [46] = 46 / 77%
Additional Perception: 1d100: [85] = 85 / 77%

Ordnance AT Perception Bonuses

Rescue AT Perception Bonuses

JiC d100: 1d100: [59] = 59 ; JiC d20: 1d20: [19] = 19

Olive does not mind finding herself being guided by the NCO. Rather the opposite, she finds slipping in so well to a new group of soldiers is quite refreshing, and the attention she is given only helps her to feel like she is doing right by the humans at her side.

Most of the talk as the trip moves on is chatter as usual for her, and she keeps her patrols light and regular. As the group begins to approach the Arch, however, the perceptive doggirl notices rise in tension. As regular and matter-of-fact the teams try to make it seem, the chance of an approaching firefight, however slim, always has a tendency to make people twitchy.

Olive's reaction to this, of course, is a spirited attempt to keep morale up. She finds herself offering her off-shift hours working with the ship's crew with their various tasks, knowing her presence tends to have a supportive effect on the humans she works with, as it is with most Psi-Hounds. She can't help but feel the nervousness trickle into her own feelings, however, as the day of the Arch's passing dawns.

Olive elects to take a position on one of the inspection gantries, unafraid of heights with her extensive rescue training, along with the basic all soldiers receive. She takes the point not only to keep a clear view of the area below for her aiming, but also so that she can catch any odd scents on the air earlier, with less distraction from the dank smell of the river's muck.

There is, of course, one other reason. Despite the tension in the air, Olive can't help but want the best look she can at the Arch. And as it comes into view, she can't help but feel at both awed, and terrified at its visage. This is what the Coalition protects us all from, she catches herself thinking. Viewing the scene before her, a boiling anger begins to gnaw at her insides. How dare those things come through, to attack my world, my people? Her fingers twitch, and she lines the scope of her rifle on the flying creature, finger dangerously close to the trigger. Only training and logic keep her from firing, though her hackles are raised and her knuckles are tense.

Finally, she lowers her weapon, sighing. "Wouldn't do any good..." she mumbles to herself, seeing the rain of fire, nearly literally in case of the explosive, come down upon the beast. She briefly entertains requesting a transfer here, despite the terror of it all, to add to the defenses, but lets that dangerous fantasy go. They have their own Psi-Hounds, I'm sure. And I'm needed here, with this team, still.

She will quietly watch the skies, eyes sharp for anything approaching, and nose twitching for the psychic whiff which might portend a slipped invader of dangerous caliber.

Mane · Post by **Mane** » Mon Jan 31, 2022 2:33 pm

Perception Check #1 (55% base); Friend or Foe Perception (90% base): 1d100: [39] = 39
Perception Check #2: 1d100: [52] = 52
JIC Rolls: 1d100: [81] = 81 , 1d20: [4] = 4
Conditions: GP Multi-optic Bionic Eye installed in socket

Initiative: 1d20: [4] = 4
General Save:

Psychic Senses:

Sense Psychic & Magic Energy (80% base): 1d100: [40] = 40
Sense Supernatural Beings (74% base): 1d100: [85] = 85

Kitty Hearing:

Discriminate between two sounds (flat 75%): 1d100: [31] = 31
Judge Distance & Precise Location of Source (100% base): 1d100: [23] = 23
Recognize & Identify Prey by Sounds (92% base): 1d100: [54] = 54

Skill Rolls & Abilities

I.D. Eneny in Disguise (65% base):See Perception roll above - Putting a scrutinizing eye on any found damn cats
Detect Ambush (100% base): 1d100: [96] = 96 - Keeping an eye out for uninvited guests, be they swimmers, flyers, or teleporters.... runners too in case we come across Demon Jesus.

As the voyage went on, and the signs of warmer weather on the way began to show, Mane could feel a literal weight of tension lifting from his mind. The hard months of winter and the bitter cold were waring on his morale. Especially the last deployment where he had to walk and trudge his way through the frosty snow and biting ice on foot for hours upon hours on end.

Seeing the snow slowly melting off the cargo containers put a smile of satisfied content on his face, like watching the blood of a vanquished enemy drain and pool around his rapidly weakening body... With the spectre of death tantalizingly close at hand, hovering just out of reach... dangling the secrets of the just-beyond like a toy in a teasing manner. Oh, to stare into those fading eyes as they turn to glass. What do they see? When will they surrender their grasp on this world and venture into the next? How many beings would Mane have to kill to...

"Damn it!" Mane cursed himself for backsliding again.

With his shift set to start within the hour, Mane kept close to his watch partner, Corporal Gregory, trailing him as the corporal went about his business looking after the crew members under his charge. He found the man's otherwise quiet nature to be oddly calming. Like he could tell him anything. So while Gregory didn't say much, Mane talked enough for the both of them. Sure, Mane ended up talking mostly to the back of his head as he followed the corporal around like a puppy, but he didn't mind, as he found the talk therapeutic.

"... Anyhow... Where was I? ... Oh yeah! So we were up against this monkey-man thing with a bad attitude, and I managed to cut it's head off. So naturally I kept it as a trophy. But what do you do with a monkey-man head? I got to thinking... and in the meantime I skinned it, kept the skull for something else after I boiled out all the brains and goo inside, and turned it inside out to tan the skin. That took a while, but after I was done with that, there was still the matter of what to do with the thing. I mean, sure, I could just stuff it and add it to my collection, but it just seemed like I was missing some kind of opportunity. Ya know? But then it hit me while I was shopping for glass eyes to finish off the taxidermy. What if... And you're going to love this... What if I left the eye-holes empty?!? Hu? Hu? Ya see where I'm going with this? So instead of boring ol' glass eyes, I went to the red light district and bought a pair of fleshlights!"

Just as Mane got to that point, he saw the St. Louis Arch coming into sight off the starboard bow. The cracked of never-ceasing dimensional energies put the hairs on the back of his neck on end. The thing radiated pure evil.

The big cat reached up to his neck and tugged at the necklaces around his neck. Off one dangled his military dog-tags. Off the other necklace was an Indian Fetish, that had the effect of calming his nerves when in or near Ley Line energies, such as those within the Devil's Gate Arch.

Left this behind once, and boy, did I regret that! Mane thought to himself, relieved that he finally learned that lesson. Never again!!

In awe, he watched as the enormous winged beast took to the sky, having emerged from the terrible gate. But with relief, Mane was able to breathe again as the hail of gunfire and missiles pelted it from all sides.

"Hey, Corporal. Check it out. They'll make short work of that critter.

But after a full ten seconds, the rain of death kept coming, and the beast kept ascending skyward. After another ten seconds of unimaginable firepower, the beast kept going, higher and higher, after soaking up enough damage to sink a battleship!! Another ten seconds of non-stop fire went on and Mane was about to make a run for it, because this thing was seemingly unstoppable... when finally, at last, it succumbed to the small Coalition army's efforts.

"HOLY SHIT!!! Did you see that?!?!?" Mane openly gawked, his eyes so wide, his removable bionic eye nearly fell out of his head. But after a moment, he regained his composure. The show was over. Time to get back to work.

"Anyhow... Where was I? ... Oh yeah! ... So I got these two fleshlights... Extra large, of course...

Post by **James Howlett** » Mon Jan 31, 2022 8:43 pm

Perception: 1d100: [87] = 87 /78%; 1d100: [38] = 38 /78%
Just in Case: 1d20: [16] = 16 , 1d20: [18] = 18 ; 1d100: [8] = 8
Initiative: 1d20+6: [1]+6 = 7
Conditions: None
Cover Identity: Captain James Logan (Howlett) - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Combat Medic (CO)
Location: Pilot House.

Skills: Intelligence 1d100: [24] = 24 /62% (Use any information available to work a plan if need be.)
Invoke Trust/Intimidate: 1d100: [80] = 80 /70% (Inspire the team.)

For a large part of the trip, James is quiet, not unresponsive, but he doesn't really go out of his way to be extra social. During this time, James spends long moments walking the ship, making mental notes, revising mental notes, throwing out entire concepts. All of this is to take James' mind away from the fact that he is on a ship. While not the first time, and likely not the last, James found water travel to be tedious and overly dangerous for the convenience. James understands the necessity of the situation as the device is far too large to be shipped by Deaths head or aircraft in general, and an overland route would just wind up needing to get onto a ferry anyways.

When the Sault St. Marie nears the devils gate, James thoughts turn towards a former teammate and and former leader of the now defunct 110th. Amelia. James ponders what may have happened to the outright eccentric RGSC scientist. James muse he could just request the info, but in the end, he's certain, he's rather not deal with the red tape. James shakes his head to clear his thoughts as he walks up to the Pilot house, a favorite place to watch the landscape go by. When James enters the small structure, he finds a spot out of the way, and stands.

CS High Command wrote:"Sault Ste Marie, be advised we have been warned of an active day at the Gateway Arch. That doesn't mean quite the shitstorm it used to mean after the containment facility went up, but it doesn't mean we sit on our laurels either. When we pass it, we will keep to the east channel, which is very clearly marked. If something happens you gun those engines for everything you've got and prepare for boarders. Most of the time it's flying monsters, but we've had a few teleporters come through in the past month. Most ground based threats don't make it out of the containment walls. The soldiers there are always on high alert, so we should be fine, but as always, watch your ass, keep quiet, and let's get through it. We'll hand you off at Fort Girardeau, and that escort flotilla will take you the rest of the way. How copy?"

The captain hits the transmit button. "Sault Ste Marie copies good. We will be setting for optimal and alert watch. Confirm time of arrival to Devil's Gate region in two to three hours, and then time in region should be about an hour after that. With arrival to Fort Girardeau 8 hours after that? How copy?"

"New London Copies. Confirming that we should arrive in the outer environs by 1730 and be out by 1830, with some allowable variance. Correction. We project reaching Girardeau by 0300, not 0200. Our schedule shows you with a port of call at Girardeau. Is that correct? Over."

The captain nods absentmindedly and then replies. "That is confirmed New London." He pauses and looks to James, as if asking him if he wants to ask anything. If Howlet needs to say anything, he keys the mic. "Hold for Captain Logan of RLT 80-457 Bravo." He then hands it off and asks for the mic back once he's finished. Whenever James is done, or if he does not need anything, Captain Barber takes the mic and then replies. "Barber here. Sault Ste Marie out. Fair Winds and Following Seas."

"Fair Winds and Following Seas. New London out."

James nods and takes the mic. "Any news south of the gate? Just checking for anything of concern." James says over the mic. If the radioman has nay news, James listens, and nods. "Copy, and over." James says before handing the mic back to Captain Barber. Once Barber has cleared the radio, James looks to him. "I'll get the men on a heightened patrol." James says before stepping out of the pilot's house, motioning for Garland to follow.

"Kirk I want Greyson, and some heavy weapons on the gantries, and get the new folk on the railguns. I also want you near engineering to help out if needed. I'll be in the pilot house, I'll offer tactical information over the team channels. Any questions?" James says to Garland. With his orders passed, James makes his way back into the pilot house, while he's composing a quick message to Egan.

Code: Select all

Keep an eye out for the unusual, monsters are one thing, but this is a great time to hit a transport.

James keys the message to send, and looks out the window. "Captain, how often do you have issues around the gate?" James asks more for historical reference versus any real fear. James watches the Captain run his ship, with the efficiency he's shown since the 40-4 have arrived. It gets James thinking about the fact that other than the stint in officer school, and a few failed commanders of the past, he doesn't have a lot of experience with Captains.

Egan Grey · Post by **Egan Grey** » Tue Feb 01, 2022 12:21 pm

Perception - 67%, (a) 1d100: [63] = 63 / (b) 1d100: [33] = 33
JIC: 1d20: [16] = 16 , 1d100: [95] = 95
Save: 1d20: [4] = 4
Initiative: 1d20+2: [18]+2 = 20

Egan finds himself standing at the front of the ship as he seems to 'wake up' from his fugue. His body had responded and acting seemingly as if on its own, rolling through the motions keeping the scout going forward but leaving a giant fuzzy patch of how he got there in his memories. "Son of a bitch..." the scout muttered to himself, -And why am I on a boat....- the thought slipped away as vague memories of the orders coming down about moving equipment in secret popped into his head. Finally having a small idea about what was actually going on, Egan rolls his shoulders and takes a look around for a moment as he tries to figure out what he had been doing.

As he pans his head around the area, the giant wound in reality shows itself off in the distance. "Yeah, thats probably it." Instinctively the scout starts looking for the high ground before spotting the ladder up to the inspection gantries a short ways away. Once in place at the highest point he can safely tuck himself into, Egan sees the message from Doc and quickly reads it. -Ah, seems like we could be expecting guests. Makes sense.- As he starts running through the area with his optics getting the lay of the land, Egan finds himself every once in a while drawn back to look at the opening to a different world or dimension.

As the giant flying thing comes out as they had gotten closer, Egan finds himself not looking at the battle but staring into the place it had come from. The longer he stared, the greater the feeling, the absolute urge, he felt about just walking on through. His mind ran through a multitude of things that could happen. Would he be able to breath over there, find edible food, would there be nothing but animals and monsters or would there be civilization, how would he communicate, would they all be hostile. Stone age or some insanely advanced people, would he be a god among them, or just some bug they scrape off their boots after the step on him. But as all these things ripped through his mind in rapid succession, Egan found himself wanting to find out for himself even more. As the beast comes down, and the cheers go up Egan redoubles his effort to look at everything except the spectacle that had just transpired. Before he knew what he was doing he found himself keying up the command channel and innocently asking "Hey Doc, would you be pissed if I went for a walk?"

Skill Rolls

Post by **CS High Command** » Mon Feb 07, 2022 9:18 pm

New Orders - Escort Duty

Date: March 6, 110 PA
Time: 1820 by end of post.
Temp: 46°and clear
Weather: The weather is quite clear and there is no snow on the ground currently. There are a few ice patches in the river, especially near the banks, but not many and most are flowing with the river from points further north. There are still big patches of snow and ice on the containers, but that too is melting away.
Ley Line info: The St. Louis Arch is the largest and most active permanent rift known to all nations of humanity. It is massive in size, scope, and the number of worlds it touches. A thousand skyscapes are seen through its doors, including what looks to be the black of space with a gorgeous array of stars and rocks. Seconds later is is replaced by a mountain that dwarfs the gate itself, so large only part of it can be seen, despite it being very distant. The sheer amount of magic is distracting to the mutant animals and any psychics find the ordeal uncomfortable, but bearable.
Location: Within the last quarter mile of the arch. The convoy has entered the protected channel.
Reference:
Reconnaissance Landing Team 80-457 Bravo
Captain James Logan (Howlett) - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Combat Medic (CO)
Lt. Harry Kirk (Garland) - MOS: Technical Officer (XO)
Fireteam 1
SFC Grayson Jones (Egan Grey) - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
Corporal Elias Camden (Culter) - MOS: Technical Specialist
Private Black F75F-86A8 (Mane) - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
Private Snow D742-F922 (Olive) - MOS: Naval Infantry
Fireteam 2
Corporal James Gregory - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
- Corporal James Gregory is not a young man, nor does he act like one. He is gruff, short, and disciplined. He is also probably in his 40s, judging by his appearance. A life long veteran of the Nautical service, he leads this detachment with the efficiency of an experienced NCO. His Arkansas drawl marks his lower than expected rank. He probably transferred from Fort El Dorado's small Navy when they joined the Coalition officially.
Private Zachary Brown - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
- Private Zachary Brown, from Lone Star City apparantly, has a dark sense of humor and certain things he says makes one think that he liked to pull the wings off flies when he was a child. He gets the majority of the discipline from Corporal Gregory and often complains he is misunderstood.
Private Jillian Yarrow - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
- Private Jillian Yarrow is from the community of Brisco America, in the north of Lone Star and she is very proud of that. She has a different flag on the butt of her rifle - one that has red and white stripes and a blue field in the corner with a bunch of white stars on it. She says this is the flag of the old American empire and they've always flown them in her home town, right next to the CS Flag. She says it reminds her of home and an old Lt of hers told her it didn't violate regs as long as it was in an out of the way place and not on her armor or backpack. This creative problem solving seems to be a thing with her, as she shows when a crane sticks while offloading. She manages to get it low enough so Mane and Culter (in his power armor) can grab it. Her friendly and sunny personality are hard to dislike. She also loves mutant animals and is fascinated by both of them.
Private Ulysses Alexander - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
- Private Ulysses Alexander, from New Chilicothe, is easily the most earnest, and annoying, member of the squad, but mostly because he has literally fed on a diet of Coalition Propaganda from birth. The fact he is barely 19 doesn't help his case. That said, he seems to be the project of Corporal Gregory, who privately admits the young man has promise. Outwardly he is strict and always admonishing the young man to focus on his surroundings, not what others say about them. But based on what the squad has seen, the Corporal has a long way to go with the lad.
Guard Roster wrote: 0600-1200:
- NCO: CPL Camden
- PVT Brown

1200-1800
- NCO: SFC Jones
- PVT Yarrow

1800-0000
- NCO: CPL Gregory
- PVT Black

0000-0600
- PVT Snow
- PVT Alexander
CSS Sault Ste Marie - Merchant Marine Barge
Captain: Captain Jed Barber (Merchant Marine Corps, Retired CS Navy Lt.)
- Observant, conscientious and throrough man. He is from Arkansas and was a part of Fort El Dorado's Merchant Marine before it got folded into the greater Coaliton Merchant Marine organization.
Executive Officer: Lt. Jacob Fray (Merchant Marine Corps, Civilian [Secret: Retired CSID])
- Sneaky, Always testing, always probing personality. He is from Lone Star.
Chief of the Boat: Chief Petty Officer Hannah Isolde (Merchant Marine Corps, Retired CS Army)
- Heroic and heartfelt person who puts her people and their safety first. She is from Iowa and retired from the Army towards the end of the war. She was a sergeant of a support crew for armored units.
Engineer Lead: Petty Officer Isaac Yang (Merchant Marine Corps, Civilian)
- Older man, Experienced from New Chillicothe, Missouri - Been on the rivers making money all his life.
Payload Specialist: Petty Officer Susan Hawkins (Merchant Marine Corps, Retired CS Army [Secret: RCSG Operative])
- Artistic and creative personality. She is 'from Iowa.' She 'grew up on the river.'
16 Assorted other crew.

The next 30 minutes are harrowing, with multiple small assaults by monsters or bandits that feel like a single running fight. In all cases there is supporting fire from the towers in the channel, but there is still a lot of action for each person.

5 minutes in: A swarm of thousands of flying creatures the size of an eagle come out of the St Louis Rift and overwhelm the defenders. They are actually running from another creature, which causes the Gateway defenders to ignore the flying bat-like creatures. These bats end up attacking every living thing in the region and it is an absolute bloodbath. Only the barge and ship crews fare well because of their armor, though one sailor does have his head devoured because he wasn't wearing a helmet. The creatures eating him die with prejudice, however. Ten minutes after the onslaught started, SAMAS squads start flying around and dealing with the swarming bat like creatures, largely using flame throwers and plasma cannons. By the time they are out of range of the fire and smoke, people's air filtration systems are straining.

25 minutes in: Near the end of their time near the Gateway, a group of bandits attack, including a dozen brodkil. They seem to have waited for the birds to either be killed or gorge and then attack. Their goal is to knock out the pilot house crew, so it becomes a close combat situation for many of the soldiers.

Quick Encounter Rules

Quick Encounter Rules
Write a short narrative about your action during the attack. It can include NPCs as well. Between ship's crew and the NPCs attached to the squad, there are plenty to go around. Your post should be 2-3 paragraphs and will be worth 200-300 XP. Including a NPC prominently in your post will net you an additional 200 XP.

Roll 1 skill die that covers your success or failure. It can be Perception or any skill you feel even remotely applies. As long as its a skill. This should be part of your narrative. Be clever about how you include this roll. You'll be doing plenty of shooting as well. Perhaps you use Piloting to simulate your antics in the air, or a Lore to represent what you knew about the enemy. Perhaps you used Swim because you got knocked overboard and had to swim back to the ship before it got out of range! Almost anything can apply.
Your results will give you a number of actions you spent attacking or otherwise affecting the battle. You spend a number of shots and ammo appropriate to that effort.
You will take an amount of damage to a number of locations

Critical Success: You spend 3d6 attack actions (and the appropriate ammunition for them) taking down the enemy. You splendidly end the careers (and possibly lives) of 1d4+2 (3-6)enemy combatants. You take 4d6 damage to 1d3 locations
Success: You spend 3d6+4 attack actions (and the appropriate ammunition for them) taking down the enemy. You end the careers (and possibly lives) of 1d3 (1-3) enemy combatants. You take 4d6 damage to 1d4+2 (3-6) locations
Failure: You spend 4d6+5 attack actions (and the appropriate ammunition for them) taking down the enemy. You barely end the careers (and possibly lives) of 1d2 (1-2) enemy combatants. You take 4d6 damage to 2d4+2 (4-10) locations
Critical Failure. You spend 4d4+14 actions (and the appropriate ammunition for them) taking down the enemy. You barely survived, much less took out anyone. 1 enemy combatant fell to your feeble attacks. You take 4d6 damage to 3d4+2 (5-14) locations.

To determine hit location, roll 1d10 for each location.
1 - Head
2 Left Arm
3 Right Arm
4-8 Torso/Main Body
9 - Left Leg
10 - Right Leg

Olive · Post by **Olive** » Fri Feb 11, 2022 10:21 pm

Perception: 1d100: [40] = 40 / 80%

Ordnance AT Perception Bonuses

Rescue AT Perception Bonuses

JiC d100: 1d100: [58] = 58 ; JiC d20: 1d20: [6] = 6

Skill Roll Paramedic: 1d100: [32] = 32 / 80%

Olive, up in the gantries, is tense as she watches the fights spill out from the gate grow more and more chaotic. Her ears folded back, she can't help but whine as she sees the loss of human life in front of her. She remembers her professionalism a touch late, and is quite glad that she is up in the gantries. Mane would never let it go if he heard me whining at this, she thinks bitterly to herself. She gently chides herself for thinking ill of her feline companion, but her thoughts are cut short as the swarm begins.

At first sight of the devilish bats, Olive instinctively brings her helmet over her head and shuts it in. Her psionic senses are dampened by it, but all she can smell at this distance is the stench of the portal itself, anyways. The first wave of bats roll over her, and thankfully in full armor she is not affected by their attacks overmuch, though her single shots don't do much against them.

Her sensitive ears hear a cry from below, the instantly recognizably human scream grabs her attention away from the bat-things, and she looks down t the ship below. Her eyes widen as she sees several of the bats having winged down on Private Alexander. Without thinking, she leaps and bounds her way down the gantry to the deck of the ship, firing precise shots at the bats to drive them away from the man. Expecting him to be roughed up, she slows for but a moment before she sees the glint of crimson on his form.

Her speed redoubles, and in a flash she is down beside him, hands pulling at his armor as he groans. "Shit, Alexander, what happened?" she calls to the man. She is shocked to discover that his armor is only half-assembled over him.

"Fuckers caught me on a bio," he replies, coughing, and smirking. "Wasn't about to let that stop me from helping out you lot out here." The doggirl shakes her head.

"Idiot," she says, though she can't say she wouldn't do the same in her own position. She quickly radios in to Howlett. "This is Private Snow. I'm off my position on the gantry, Private Alexander is hurt. Patching him up now." Pulling off his armor, she winces at the state of his chest and stomach, gashes and gnawing bites sinking through the skin and exposing the muscle beneath.

She quickly and easily identifies the damage. Internal bleeding, broken rib, might be a deflated or punctured lung, she thinks to herself, biting her lip, her sharp tooth quickly drawing blood from the gesture. She winces, and focuses. Can't fix this without more equipment.

She spins, her eyes scanning to find the nearest soldier she can find. She hoists up the injured man carefully, his boyish face lax as he slips into unconsciousness. She dashes over as carefully as she can. "You!" she calls, forcing confidence into her voice as she tries to get attention off the bat-swarm onto her. It takes butting the woman with her shoulder to get her to focus on Olive. "I'll stay here. Get another sailor and get me a kit for triage." As the woman blinks, Olive continues forcefully with, "Now!"

That gets the woman to move. Now out of her reverie, she dashes into the ship to gather supplies, as Olive pulls Alexander to a shaded spot, wishing she had time to sanitize the area. After a painfully long time, though in truth only a couple of minutes pass, the sailor returns with a medikit and another sailor. Olive takes the kit immediately, and shoves her gun into the second sailor's hands. "Cover me."

She stares as the sailor blinks, and seems about to say something, but she cuts him off. "It's either shoot the bats, or you can take the needle and thread," she jerks her head to the Private. He takes one look at the wound, blanches, and turns to fire out.

Olive, at least somewhat confident that her back is being covered, sets to work on her friend. It's extensive work, but the need to help her companion necessitates focus. She closes her inner ears, allowing her to focus solely on the man in front of her and tuning out the gunfire around her.

It goes well, for some time, and once the swarm is passed, she can fully relax and not have to fight to do simple suture work. She is confident she can close up Alexander's chest and sanitize everything, until the brodkil attack.

Mindless bats are one thing, but the frightened sailor she had forced her gun on was not about to fight an organized(-ish) group of raiders. He continually prods Olive as he comes under fire to take back the gun, and finally with a growl, she stands. "Fine," she says, stepping away from Alexander. The female soldier, having been relegated to cleaning bloody equipment thus far, is given the thread and needle. "You need to finish this. You've been watching, do what I did," she says, taking the gun back and giving the second sailor she recruited a glare. "You ever sew? Just like that. Keep your needle moving slowly, keep your sutures even."

The entire bandit attack she spends half fighting, half awkwardly shouting orders at the two sailors to finish the triage, so her mind isn't fully in the fight as she tries to keep precise shots on the brodkil to wear them down for her allies to finish off.

Combat Results

Mane · Post by **Mane** » Sat Feb 12, 2022 10:47 am

Friend or Foe Perception Check (90% base): 1d100: [71] = 71

Success: You spend 3d6+4 attack actions (and the appropriate ammunition for them) taking down the enemy. You end the careers (and possibly lives) of 1d3 (1-3) enemy combatants. You take 4d6 damage to 1d4+2 (3-6) locations

Actions Spent: 3d6+4: [6, 2, 2]+4 = 14

Combatants Engaged: 1d3: [2] = 2

To X Locations: X= 1d4+2: [3]+2 = 5

Affected Locations: 5d10: [7, 3, 1, 5, 7] = 23
1 - Head
2 Left Arm
3 Right Arm
4-8 Torso/Main Body
9 - Left Leg
10 - Right Leg

Collateral Damage #1: 4d6: [1, 1, 6, 6] = 14
CD #2: 4d6: [5, 3, 5, 1] = 14
CD #3: 4d6: [4, 4, 3, 3] = 14
CD #4: 4d6: [6, 5, 6, 1] = 18
CD #5: 4d6: [2, 3, 6, 1] = 12

At first Mane was in awe as he saw the swarm of bat demons erupt like they were escaping from the pits of Hell. As they filled the sky -- too numerous to count -- the winged terrors nearly blotted out the sun. As the light of the mid-day star began to dim under the blight of their demonic pollution, Mane began to back away from the railing.

Without diverting his gaze from the sky full of flapping and screeching leather, Mane turned to his "superior", Corporal Gregory. "If I ever get stationed here, remind me to kill myself before I deploy."

Just as the big cat begain to wonder when the light show would begin, and take delight in the arsenal of the Coalition clearing their skys of the hellish vermin, the swarm turned towards the ship. It became all too obvious which way they were coming, and everyone was about to have a very bad day.

Mane pealed his recon helmet off his belt, where it hung from a clip, and quickly secured it to his head. Feeling it's lightness in his hand, the lion regretted not opting for body armor with more substance to it.

"Corporal, stand by me. I'll get you through this. If you run, you'll only die tiered."

While Gregory had more concern for the men and women under him, and normally wasn't one to take orders from some filthy, psychotic, flea-bitten mutant,he decided now wasn't the time to argue.

The swarm descended like falling anvil and Mane's pistols were all too happy to meet them halfway. With a flurry of laser pulses, Mane quickly emptied the power cells of his paired ray-guns, making phantoms out of photons in a furious fusillade of fire. But try as he did, the cloud of hell bats was too thick. How many fell, Mane couldn't tell, nor did it seem to matter.

A moment later, both he and Gregory were engulfed by the swarm, suffering claws and bites from seemingly every direction at once. In response Mane holstered his pistols and bared his claws. He preferred the hands-on approach to combat anyhow.

With a furious roar, the hell bats gave him a short few seconds' of a reprieve, and Mane used it to move both him and and Gregory into a more defense position. While the corporal fired on anything that crossed his gun sights, Mane slashed at the nearly every bat that dared to enter his deadly reach.

But despite his best efforts, Mane managed to kill very few of them, as he couldn't manage to touch the same one twice. In the chaos of the swarm, not a single one of the hell bats would give him an honorable, stand up fight. Their attack was as furious as it was utterly random, with every bat striking as chance placed someone within their reach as well before flying off in a seemingly random direction.

In time the swarm of hell bats passed on to be someone else's problem, and Mane sighed a breath of relief. Seeing Gregory still by his side, Mane gave the old river rat a nod of approval. Simultaneously, while the getting was good, Mane swapped out the e-clips in his pistols, for who knows what else the day had in store for them.

Just as the second e-clip seated in his second CP-30 Pulse Pistol, a sound caught Mane's attention. And on first sight, he could tell something was wrong.

"Skipper! ... Help! ... They got me..." moaned a sailor in badly damaged Coalition armor. Blood weeped from numerous holes tore in the man's chest... including one with scorch marks of an energy weapon!

Gregory turned his head and paused. At first he couldn't identify the sailor by his off, deep, grumbly voice, but recognized the name tag. "Smithy?? Is that you? Where are the others?

But as fooled as Corporal Gregory may have been, Mane's scrutinizing eye wasn't. Immediately he took aim and blasted the man in the chest. "That's not Smithy!!

With Smithy's armor already riddled with holes, the blast blew the man clean in half. Gregory was about to yell in protest, tearing Mane a new proverbial asshole, when he saw the impossible.

Smithy's hips and legs dropped to the deck with a splatter of blood and guts... but the man's torso remained hovering in the air, guts and chared meat dangling from what was left of his upper torso. It was then he noticed the blood splatter splashed on the legs of something invisible behind the dead sailor.

The Brodkill laughed hysterically as it slowly became visible, it's Smithy meat-puppet still being held aloft by it's shoulders. The demon made it's Smitty toy do a little dance before unceremoniously tossing it overboard into the river.

"Black...” Gregory smoldered, barely able to formulate words as he fumed with rage, addressing Mane by his alias. ... Kill.

Lunging at the sadistic demon, Mane let the Brodkill have it with everything he had. The lesser demon found itself overwhelmed, unaccustomed to fighting creatures stronger than itself.

When the brutal fight was over, Mane dumped the demons shredded body over board... Just in time to be shot the head with a ion blast!

The heat and suddenness of the blast rung Mane's bell. When he shook off the shock, he noticed that the next wave of attackers was already upon them. He surveyed the ever-changing battlefield and sighed in relief.

Pirates!! ... Oh thank God! Ordinary pirates! Glory hallelujah, the worst of it is over, Corporal!"

Post by **James Howlett** » Mon Feb 21, 2022 8:17 pm

Perception: 1d100: [46] = 46 /78%
Just in Case: 1d20: [18] = 18 ; 1d100: [16] = 16
Conditions: None
Cover Identity: Captain James Logan (Howlett) - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Combat Medic (CO)
Location: Pilot House.

Skills: Lore: Demons & Monsters 1d100: [30] = 30 /89%

James spends the trip past the Devils gate in the Pilot's House so he can best relay information as he hears it. The swarm of bat-like creatures is a surprise, but certainly not insurmountable with troopers manning the emplacements, and his own squad generally being superior to most everything on the boat. James takes a few shots at them as a few manage to get into the wheelhouse. but luckily no one is really hurt by it. James looks to the Captain and smiles behind his helmet's face mask. "Just another day in the Coalition, huh?" James says with a chuckle.

When the bandits and Brodkil begin boarding, James calls out to the general channel. "Brodkil can go invisible, keep an eye on thermal." James manages to get out as the door busts open and a particularly nasty brute of Brodkil rushes in. James hits him with a burst of laser fire, before closing in to fight the beast with his vibro-knife. James clearly has the upper hand in skill, but the brute has strength. James takes a few solid blows before managing to put the Brodkil down. Breathing heavy he looks to the crew to make sure they're okay.

Culter · Post by **Culter** » Wed Mar 02, 2022 1:43 pm

Perception: 1d100: [92] = 92 / 54%
JiC: 1d100: [85] = 85 / 1d20: [16] = 16
Cover: Corporal Elias Camden (Culter) - MOS: Technical Specialist; SAMAS Qualified.
NPC being used: Private Zachary Brown in the second flying SAMAS.

Conditions:

Skill:
Pilot, PA -- 1d100: [56] = 56 /75% (SAMAS Air Superiority)

Post:

Culter is nearest to Brown when passing the Arch with the right attitude to fly the SAMAS as his wingman while on the boat. When the swarm appears, Culter wastes no time assisting in dealing with the flyers as they sweep the region near the Arch, but avoids the air to avoid being swarmed by the flyers and instead picks them off, unleashing a couple mini-missiles into a cluster as he is able. "Stay on the deck, don't get swarmed up there." Culter tells Brown who continues firing towards the demons.

"Yeah, see the poor bastard that lost his head down the deck?" Brown shouts back over the carnage, mentioning the crew member who lost his skull for not wearing his helmet. Culter scoffs lightly.

"Yep. A story to tell the boys next time someone bitches about always wearing helmets." Culter remarks amid another shot. When the flyers and fighting dies down, Culter nods and lowers his weapon, turning to Brown. "Switch to internal radios and head up to the Bow. I'll keep the Stern and the Pilots Cabin on lock. Keep an eye on the shoreside." Culter orders to Brown and the private nods and starts walking the deck towards the bow along the railings while Culter does the same thing heading towards the stern, Culter watching the Arch in the background as it continues to get further away.

"Damn. Shit got ripped clean off." Brown radio's Culter helm-to-helm as the private walks past the body of the downed sailor, moving past it so the crew can help clean and/or pick it up.

"Copy." Culter remarks before opening the larger comm channel. "We've got a sailor casualty on the deck near Brown's location." Culter calls out and will otherwise assume a guardian position near the stern and pilot house.

Culter is idling at the stern, watching the Arch as it recedes and looking to the waters, the starboard shoreline and the further water and shoreline across the portside. He slowly nods his head, just looking and not really thinking when he hears a crackle on the radio again.

"Boarders, Starboard side!" Brown calls out which jolts Culter to his senses. He rears around to the starboard side and spots the boarders and Brodkil with them. Culter furrows his brow and scowls. Sub-demons or perversions of humanity used against it. Either way. Culter thinks to himself as he takes to the air.

"Brown, Fly. Provide aerial support to those on deck. Check your fire." Culter orders.

Cpt Logan wrote:"Brodkil can go invisible, keep an eye on thermal."

Culter switches his optics to his thermals as his main source of tracking, just in case they try to go invisible. Culter flies high and provides support over the Pilot's House and Stern, and spots one of the Brodkill scaling a side of the Pilot house unopposed.

Culter kicks on his burners and barrels towards the Brodkill, rocketing to his max speed as best as he can in the short time and literally ramming into the side of the Brodkill. The electrical aura Culter sports shocking the demon on contact. When Culter connects, he maintains contact with the demon as they tumble down from the Pilot House and onto the deck, breaching the demon's mind, and reaching out with a Neuro-Strike.

Culter rockets back off the demon and levels his weapon as the Brodkill groans and struggles to stand. The demon huffs and growls at Culter, and the Zapper does not wait for the demon to fully stand before unloading his weapons on it. The Brodkill struggles under the fire and Neuro-Strike, but hefts forward under strain with a look of murder towards Culter.

The giant humanoid manages to grab hold of Culter's railgun and yank it to the side as Culter feels a hefty impact on his left side that knocks him back. Culter looks back and sees the Brodkill moving to him and Culter rockets away and back up. Now airborne again, Culter unloads on the Brodkill with a spray of fire that the demonic humanoid cannot move out of and eventually succumbs too.

Culter sees the smoking remains and takes off again, moving to aid any of his allies still needing help taking out their targets.

Egan Grey · Post by **Egan Grey** » Thu Mar 03, 2022 6:47 pm

[Perception - 67%, 1d100: [43] = 43 , Success]

Combat Results:

The high ground has always been a boon in combat throughout the ages. It allows for a much broader view of the battlefield, giving those that hold it the ability to see danger approaching. So Egan sat in his cargo inspection gantry turned crows nest and watched. He watched the group of swarming critters splinter apart and engulf the barge. He watched them attack the ill-prepared solider coming out onto the deck, and Olive as she made her way over to the fallen in order to help. Egan ignored all of it. He didn't waste any ammo trying to shoot the small fast moving creatures, he just swatted them away like one would shoo flies when they came near as he continued his watch over the waterway and embankments.

"Waterbound fast movers approaching on the port side." Egan called over the general frequency as he spotted the fast attack craft breaking from cover and rushing to get under the barges guns. With a slow breath, Egan drew down on a helmet manning a heavy weapon platform and pulled the trigger. His first shot ablated some plasteel and ceramic from the man's forehead, while his second furrowed the heavy plate meant to protect the operator from return fire. Egan's third shot gouged out a path from his chin to his left eye, but now the man no longer was looking into the sun and he finally identified the person redecorating his helmet from afar. Egan no longer thought that the high ground was a boon as a very long burst of highspeed projectiles tore through his nest, the impacts to his legs causing him to stagger and stumble. Egan had to jump back as a small section he was just standing on could no longer support the weight and fell to the deck below. Regaining his footing, Egan steadied himself and patiently waited for the craft to turn around for another pass before finally ventilating the man's head with his final shot.

Post by **CS High Command** » Sun Apr 03, 2022 2:35 pm

On Hiatus until 6-1-22

New Orders - Escort Duty

Date: March 7, 110 PA
Time: 0900 by end of post.
Temp: 53°and overcast
Weather: It is cloudy, but there is no snow on the ground currently. There are a few ice patches in the river, especially near the banks, but not many and most are flowing with the river from points further north. There are still big patches of snow and ice on the containers, but that too is melting away.
Ley Line info: The closer the barge gets to Fort Girardeau, the less severe the influence of ley lines is. Aside from the occasional lone ley line, the crew is not dealing with any ley lines for the most part.
Location: CS Fort Girardeau, a Brown Water Navy base and small commercial port. Aside from a large building that allows Barracuda class ships to enter two at a time, most of the base is simply open dock and wire fencing. Defensive turrets and emplacements line the river and outer perimeter of the base's outskirts. Most are simply places for skelebots and troops to take cover, but some are more powerful laser turrets and railgun turrets. A small array of mini-missile launchers, short range missile launchers and a single 4 pack medium missile launcher are built into the base. Skycycles run patrols in and out of the base, with Maulers being the primary power armor seen. A large barge with CS Navy markings sits nearby, with construction equipment built into it (crane, dredge gear, welding gear, etc). There are SAMAS here, but mostly old style. There is an even mix of newer Navy armor and old style army body armor. Strikingly, there is a good number of the newer Ballistic carbines and rifles, from Red River Munitions in Arkansas, mixed in with the standard issue energy rifles produced more widely in the Coalition.
Reference:
Reconnaissance Landing Team 80-457 Bravo
Captain James Logan (Howlett) - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Combat Medic (CO)
Lt. Harry Kirk (Garland) - MOS: Technical Officer (XO)
Fireteam 1
SFC Grayson Jones (Egan Grey) - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
Corporal Elias Camden (Culter) - MOS: Technical Specialist
Private Black F75F-86A8 (Mane) - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
Private Snow D742-F922 (Olive) - MOS: Naval Infantry
Fireteam 2
Corporal James Gregory - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
- Corporal James Gregory is not a young man, nor does he act like one. He is gruff, short, and disciplined. He is also probably in his 40s, judging by his appearance. A life long veteran of the Nautical service, he leads this detachment with the efficiency of an experienced NCO. His Arkansas drawl marks his lower than expected rank. He probably transferred from Fort El Dorado's small Navy when they joined the Coalition officially.
Private Zachary Brown - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
- Private Zachary Brown, from Lone Star City apparantly, has a dark sense of humor and certain things he says makes one think that he liked to pull the wings off flies when he was a child. He gets the majority of the discipline from Corporal Gregory and often complains he is misunderstood.
Private Jillian Yarrow - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
- Private Jillian Yarrow is from the community of Brisco America, in the north of Lone Star and she is very proud of that. She has a different flag on the butt of her rifle - one that has red and white stripes and a blue field in the corner with a bunch of white stars on it. She says this is the flag of the old American empire and they've always flown them in her home town, right next to the CS Flag. She says it reminds her of home and an old Lt of hers told her it didn't violate regs as long as it was in an out of the way place and not on her armor or backpack. This creative problem solving seems to be a thing with her, as she shows when a crane sticks while offloading. She manages to get it low enough so Mane and Culter (in his power armor) can grab it. Her friendly and sunny personality are hard to dislike. She also loves mutant animals and is fascinated by both of them.
Private Ulysses Alexander - MOS: Reconnaissance Landing Team Commando
- Private Ulysses Alexander, from New Chilicothe, is easily the most earnest, and annoying, member of the squad, but mostly because he has literally fed on a diet of Coalition Propaganda from birth. The fact he is barely 19 doesn't help his case. That said, he seems to be the project of Corporal Gregory, who privately admits the young man has promise. Outwardly he is strict and always admonishing the young man to focus on his surroundings, not what others say about them. But based on what the squad has seen, the Corporal has a long way to go with the lad.
Guard Roster wrote: 0600-1200:
- NCO: CPL Camden
- PVT Brown

1200-1800
- NCO: SFC Jones
- PVT Yarrow

1800-0000
- NCO: CPL Gregory
- PVT Black

0000-0600
- PVT Snow
- PVT Alexander
CSS Sault Ste Marie - Merchant Marine Barge
Captain: Captain Jed Barber (Merchant Marine Corps, Retired CS Navy Lt.)
- Observant, conscientious and thorough man. He is from Arkansas and was a part of Fort El Dorado's Merchant Marine before it got folded into the greater Coalition Merchant Marine organization.
Executive Officer: Lt. Jacob Fray (Merchant Marine Corps, Civilian [Secret: Retired CSID])
- Sneaky, Always testing, always probing personality. He is from Lone Star.
Chief of the Boat: Chief Petty Officer Hannah Isolde (Merchant Marine Corps, Retired CS Army)
- Heroic and heartfelt person who puts her people and their safety first. She is from Iowa and retired from the Army towards the end of the war. She was a sergeant of a support crew for armored units.
Engineer Lead: Petty Officer Isaac Yang (Merchant Marine Corps, Civilian)
- Older man, Experienced, from New Chillicothe, Missouri - Been on the rivers making money all his life.
Payload Specialist: Petty Officer Susan Hawkins (Merchant Marine Corps, Retired CS Army [Secret: RCSG Operative])
- Artistic and creative personality. She is 'from Iowa.' She 'grew up on the river.'
16 Assorted other crew.

The pirates and brodkil don't stand a chance against the weight of fire against them, but they manage to punch back as well. It is clear they didn't expect the crew to have stood well against the monster swarm, thinking the crew would be disoriented and distracted. To their credit, the ship's crew were quite disciplined and Howlett's expanded squad performed well. Howlett double checks the triage work on Alexander and the other injuries, but aside from using the Robot Medical Kits and the IRMSS in Alexander's case, there wasn't much to do. Certainly nothing worth breaking out his surgical skills. Policing the deck was a minor chore, but the ship's crew mostly handled that.

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