Vaylar Rising — IC

[Namelessjake]

It is a bright and vibrant evening in the skies above Kasi'Mela. A green aurora dances overhead with the dominating presence of Davon Prime as their backdrop. The gas giant baths the moon of Vaylar in light making the evening nearly as bright as the day time when the moon is lit by the twin stars of Muiran. Instead false stars twinkle overhead - the engine plumes of ships arriving and departing Demeter Orbital carrying food exports to the other moons and beyond. Vaylar is also not alone on this night as Sarma too hangs in the night sky. Its dark side glows a fiery red as fires rage in its jungles, started by a recent burn from the orbital laser on Ignis Station.

However you keep your eyes down as you walk, not looking up at the eventful scenes above. You make your way through the concrete tenement lined streets heading towards your meeting place. The streets are relatively quiet. While there is currently no curfew order in place, the early years of the occupation has left its mark on the populace and many tend to stay home . You pass a prominent street corner where a large holographic screen broadcasts the latest news. The main headline today is a fuel tank explosion at Kasi'Mela's biggest spaceport. While the official line is it was a simple mechanical failure and no one was seriously harmed, word on the street is it was a bombing carried out by a extremist resistance group, The Davonian Front, and casualties were high.

Finally you spot the flickering sign for Jox's agiv joint where Thoras has held many of your recent meetings. Stepping inside you're hit by the thick steam filled air, fragranced by the smell of cooking spices. The street food restaurant's owner, Jox, stands behind the bar, which runs the length of the cramped shop. He looks up from his cooking and, recognising you, indicates for you to head into the backroom like you have many times before. The restaurant's two customers pay you no mind as you make your way into the backroom. Supplies line the walls and various crates and boxes form a makeshift set of table and chairs in the middle of the room.

Over the next ten or so minutes, more and more of you arrive and eventually only Thoras is missing, making this one of only a handful of times your entire cell has assembled. "Any one know what this is about?" Jin asks once the seven of you have all arrived. Before you can reply, the door opens once more and Thoras, the leader of your Rising cell, strides into the now cramped storeroom.

"Excellent, you're all here,"  he says after a quick scan of the room. "As I'm sure you have all noticed, the game has changed," he says, as usual skipping any greetings or preamble to get straight to the topic at hand. "The increasing hostilities on Antheus represent our biggest opportunity to date. If you've seen today's news you also will have noticed we're not the only ones to realise this either. Our brothers and sisters in the Davonian Front may operate differently to us but our efforts are all in aid of the same goal. However if they are increasing their activity, so will the Reformists, the New Commonwealth. the Moon Coalition, and the rest, he says, listing off a handful of the other resistance movements you've heard of.

"The Rising must too, and therefore things are about to change. Going forward events are going to happen a lot quicker and you will almost definitely have to take lives, and not just Escriosian ones - those of collaborators and maybe even the innocent will be lost too. If you have any reservations the door is there, if not I assume you are all on board?"  he asks, gesturing to the door with one hand as he looks each of you in the eyes in turn waiting for your responses. 

[ratwizard]

Tone leans against a wall, his only movements the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathes, combined with the occasional pull from a vape gun. His arms are crossed as he listens to Thoras closely, satisfied to confirm his own suspicions that the cell's escalation is immediate. Take lives, he considers. After scurrying like a bug to the corners of the system, throwing away countless connections, friends, partners, opportunities, was that really the line he'd always drawn? Escriosians, collaborators, they will only get what they are long due. But innocents?

Tone frowns, puffing out a thin flume of vapor. He taps his foot. The man scans the room, finding a spread of familiar faces — some might be soon be trusted, yet others he may always fear. He knows the answer to Thoras' question. He's known it since before he walked into the shithole agiv joint Jox lends out. He's known it for months — years, even, if he would grant himself the credit of retrospect. The thoughts are simply a matter of process, waning defense mechanics fighting to keep a semblance of self, of empathy. They killed his family. They took away his past, his present, his future. If a few more undeserving people may die in this struggle, the calculus of how many more they could save easily trumps such collateral numbers.

He nods almost imperceptibly, and takes another pull.

[greysigil]

Jug stands motionless in a corner, scanning the faces of their compatriots. They watch as the group assembles, and then as Thoras enters the room. They stare at him, listening, processing and filing the information away. Loss of life = Inevitable. Mitigation = Possible, Optimal. Analysis: Evaluate further risk as situations present themselves.

Jug adjusts their optic sensors to encompass everyone in the room, looking to see if anyone moves. They have worked with them enough that they suspect none will, but they aren't certain. From the sounds of it, active hostilities and combat are going to be expected, and Jug's evaluations of the other members of the cell returns that not all of them are suited for such activity. Most can handle their own, but how that weighs against their ability in larger scale skirmishes, especially with stakes as high as these? That remains to be seen. Not to mention the fact that many humans have a tendency to get, uncomfortable with the thought of collateral damage, and they wonder how that will affect the others' dispositions.

They stand, motionless in silence, and as Thoras turns his attention to Jug, looking in his eyes, all he is met with is faint, unblinking blue light.

[Scratcherclaw]

Sven's stomach almost instinctively rumbles as the waft of deliciousness greets him as he steps into the restaurant. He pulls off his mask, flashing Jox a smile and a nod as he strides past. Damn, might have to grab some to-go on the way out. Stepping into the backroom, he's surprised to not find Thoras' stern demeanor already greeting him for being a touch late. Am I early? No, no, the others were here. He shrugs to himself, his own question answered as their leader arrives not a moment later.

He listens to Thoras speak, crossing his arms and cocking his head as the gears begin to turn. Shit's really about to get real, huh. Guess it's now or never. He lets out a hefty sigh, stretching his shoulders and hitting a fist into his other palm. "I'm in. Can't let the dream die, and gotta save the other dreams I can." Though he finds himself grimacing at the thought of innocents losing their lives, he knows it's inevitable. If not us doing it, it'll just be someone else. Especially with them bombing spaceports now... At least we'll have a chance to save them too. 

Sven frowns, mentally making a shopping list of booze and spirits. Maybe Yukon'll have some of that good shit from Alldis. Or some of that fuckin' paint thinner from the fringe worlds. That'll make a man forget.

[BartNL]

Innocent lives, pah. The innocent will just have to share in our burden. Whether collateral is expected is not even a relevant question. It always is, the numbers speak for themselves. The only thing relevant about collateral damage is what the acceptable margins are. The only reasons to walk out now, is if anyone else does. If that happens, Thoras has miscalculated fatally. John thinks, not willing to speak his mind on the issue. Then John nods affirmatively.

[FinalTemplar]

Tristan made his way down the city street as he had many times before, though lately, he has begun to miss more and more the weight of the sidearm he used to keep in his pocket. Sacrifices in the name of making it another day, I guess. He thinks, reaching for a cig before remembering that he had none left. "Damn." He sighs. He stands outside the restaurant for a moment, hesitating as he takes a moment to check his compad, hesitating before sending his girlfriend a quick message- I'll be home late tonight, Ange. I'll be sure to grab that snack you like. If you're asleep before I get home, I hope you sleep well. He shoots off quickly before walking inside. 

Tristan gives a polite nod to Jox, and heads into the back, seeing most of the others there. He nods at Sven as he arrives, and then moments later, waves to Thoras. He leans up against a wall a little ways from Tone but sets himself up to keep an eye on most of the room. He listens intently as Thoras explains the situation, and he begins to nod. "I've been waiting for a chance to strike back at the Diktat. Let's show them what we're made of, like a phoenix rising from the ashes." He clenched his fist tightly.

[Fialova]

Em pulls her hat down as she walks, the brim helping to shield her eyes from the bright lights and events occurring above. While she had lived in the city for the better part of a decade, she still had not grown accustomed to the the light and the atmosphere of Kasi'Mela, feeling as much a fish out of water as she had been since coming over from Terai. All she can think of, and all she ever thinks of when heading to the meeting place, is what the next mission will be and whether it will make a difference in ridding the system of the Diktat occupier. 

She doesn't speak once she arrives to the back room, but instead leans against a wall and closes her eyes, waiting for Thoras' entrance. Once he shows, and begins to speak, she quickly perks up. So we are finally taking the fight to them, this is what I've been waiting for, the woman thinks, eager to hurt the Diktat despite having no skills to aid her in her quest for payback. A small smile forms on her face as he explains their coming escalation, as she knows it means that things are finally turning in their favor, at least in the eyes of the rebel leaders.

As the suggestion is posed that anyone uncomfortable should leave, Em waits to respond, instead eyeing the others to gauge how truly devoted to the cause they all are. She is pleased no one speaks out in protest, and says, "there are no true innocents among the Escrosians. Not here, in our system. Any who came over are complicit in the Diktat's crimes, and if they get in our way, they have only themselves to blame for the results."

[ratwizard]

Tone lets the outspoken members say their piece, catching a few eyes glancing around the room, meeting some of them. There's a fire there, he thinks as Em speaks. Though when good folk from Kasi'Mela kick the bucket, doubtless due to our actions, will she feel the same then? Will any of them start to doubt what we're doing here? The psychic's wondering is futile and rhetorical. As always, resolve must be tested and proven — not daydreamed about.

He looks back to Thoras, trying to read the man's reaction. Guess we're all in.

[Namelessjake]

"Good," Thoras says after those who would speak have said their piece and the others, while silent, have remained. His expression remains unchanged - it is impossible to say if he knew you would all stay before he asked the question or if he was surprised by your commitment to the cause.

The greying man, reaches into his coat pockets and pulls out four silver half spheres. He begins to place them on the improvised table in front of you, arranging them into a perfect square. Once they are laid out to his liking, he pulls out a compad and begins scrolling through some files. "Now, our ultimate goal is to remove the invaders from our moons. When the time comes, the Rising will not be enough on its own. We will need the regular citizenry to answer our call and to take up arms. That will be the true rising," he says, stopping as he finds the files he was looking for. He taps his compad and the four domes on the table light up, projecting a holographic image of a man above the table - easily recognisable to anyone who regularly watches the newsfeeds or pays any attention to current events as Tobias Vibol.

"Tobias Vibol," Thoras explains, not one to assume knowledge. "Socialite, media personality, and the governor's chief propagandist. He has been responsible for the indoctrination of millions of regular people to the point where they are entirely lost to our cause. If we are to win the support of the masses so that we can rely on them when the time comes, he needs to be taken out of the equation. As far as we are aware, the Escriosians have no good replacement for him and our own people should be able to undo some of his work with him gone. He is your target."

"I have devised a plan, however the smaller details will be up to you as you will be the ones to carry out this assignment," Thoras says. He taps on his compad once more and the image of Tobias Vibol flickers and vanishes, replaced by a floor plan of a building.

"In three nights time, Vibol, along with several hundred of his guests, will be welcoming in the new year here at the Kasi'Mela Museum of Art and Histories. I believe this presents two important opportunities for us." Thoras then pulls out a small plastic bag from his coat and places it on the table. The bag is see through and appears to be filled with thin metal rods of varying width and length.

"Firstly, this is one of the lowest security environments we can expect to catch Vibol in, and secondly, it presents an opportunity for us to arm ourselves. As not everyone here has arms made of steel," he says, glancing at Jug. "You will need weapons to carry out the task at hand and others in the future." ​​​​​​

"The Escriosians are going to provide all the weapons we will ever need to win this war, they just don't know it yet. Here on the second floor there is an exhibit on the weapons of the Escriosian Unification Wars." He highlights a room on the top floor of the map using his compad. "These wars have an almost religious significance to the upper echelons of Escriosian society so the weapons will have not been fully decommissioned. These firing pins should reenable the use of any of them," he says patting the plastic bag in front of him in demonstration. "There is even live ammunition on display you can use. You will only find old ballistic weapons on display, and not energy or mag weapons, however you will have the element of surprise and any targets will be wearing formal wear not powered armour. An old fashioned bullet is still deadly."

"So, you will get inside the museum, gain access to the display cases in this exhibit, grab as much gear as you can, reactive the weapons, kill Vibol and any other targets of opportunity, and then escape via the loading area at the rear of the building, where you will meet up with Jin who will be waiting with your getaway vehicle, which will be an ambulance. You should be out of there just as the police show up and you'll blend right in," Thoras summarises his plan. He pulls out stack of compads from his coat and places them on the table next to the holographic display of the museum. 

"These are burners, take one each and destroy it once you are out of the museum. Deactivate your own or leave it at home on the night. I will leave the getting inside and dealing with any security to you to deal with as you see fit, but I can offer my thoughts if you'd like. Any questions?" The stonefaced man asks, looking at you expectantly.

First Floor

Second Floor

[ratwizard]

Tone sighs inwardly, knowing what he was signing up for, but still beleaguered to hear the details. Real firearms, huh? What a trip. Leave it to these self-obsessed fascists to hold onto a thing like that. Suppose I might not even need them if things go south, he considers. Course, neither Thoras nor the Diktat want to find out there's a pissed-off psychic on the scene. I should play along for now.

"Yeah, I do," Tone says as he steps forward to pocket one of the burner compads. "What's your advice, if you were in our shoes?"

[BartNL]

Their arrogance will be their downfall if it takes just one of those little pins, whatever there function is, to turn an exhibition piece into a tool for revolution. John takes a closer look at the bag on the table, and after deciding that it's better to look green now than in the museum, asks: "How would we apply these 'firing pins'? I can't say I have ever studied the workings of ancient firearm technology, let alone held one."

[greysigil]

Jug studies the map, recording and copying the information. They notice the name Adu, but the word triumph feels, wrong. Inaccurate, almost. Accessing memory data: Search query = Adu... Data not found.

They look at the firing pins, Tech = archaic, serviceable. Lethal = lethal., and note Thoras' instructions regarding the compads. Disable = visit Edd. Three days = sufficient time. They move to the table and pick up one of the burners, tucking it into a pocket of their overcoat.

They stay silent for the moment, waiting to see if anyone else asks the question forming in their mind before they can: What will be this one's cover. Robot =/= subtle, unnoticeable.

[Namelessjake]

"It will vary slightly weapon to weapon but it's a simple process. Nothing Em shouldn't be able to handle," Thoras says in reply to Stamps, looking over at the most technically minded of the group.

"As for advice," he says, backpedalling to address Tone's question. "I'd advise you dress for the party. Whether you talk your way in or break in, once you're inside you should be able to blend in with the other guests. Jug may look somewhat out of place but there'll be some important people there, I'd wager there'll be other VIs acting as bodyguards. The security office here should probably be your first stop once you're in too," he says, highlighting the office on the map.

"The exhibits are probably alarmed so disabling those and any cameras will help you retain the element of surprise," he elaborates.

[FinalTemplar]

Tristan studies the maps of the museum thoroughly, listening to the continued conversation. "Important question- you say we'll be in and out before the cops show up, how long do we have exactly?" He picks up one of the burner 'pads and lightly spins it in his hands. "I've done this kind of thing before and it's never as much time as you like to think." He contemplates the situation as he waits for an answer.

[Fialova]

Em listens as their handler speaks, her face contorting into a look of disgust as Vibol's name is mentioned. It is his ilk, and people like him, that are the reason so many live as sheep to their Diktat shepherds, blissfully unaware of the horrors they deliver unto any who defy them. She can't help but to smile, however, when she thinks of him falling in a rain of bullets. Good riddance.

At Stamps' inquiry, she listens closely for the response, but is surprised instead when Thoras places the onus on her instead. "Me?" she asks, before quickly following it up. "Well, I've not worked with any old weapons either, but I reckon if they are that outdated, it shouldn't be too hard to figure out. Especially if all it takes to operate them is a simple little pin." To think, such primitive weapons were once the pinnacle of technology for their creators. If only they knew what the future held, and how much more destructive they'd become.

[ratwizard]

Tone frowns, having hoped that Thoras' trust in Em's ability meant that she'd some experience with the archaic firearms. Not her fault, he has to remind himself. We're not historians, and we're not soldiers. We're just... people.

"Might be we can get our hands on an old school gun ourselves. A dry run before the wet," he suggests, shifting forward to no longer lean against the wall — finally eager to participate in the planning. "Anyone know a guy?"

[Scratcherclaw]

Sven examines the map, almost overwhelmed with the overload of information as Thoras continues speaking and explaining their mission. "Guy's always had a pretty punchable face, if you ask me. But guns'll work too," he says with a shrug. His eyes linger on the gift shop in the map, though he quickly shakes the thought. Would just be propaganda crap... 'I Learned About the Escriosian Diktat's Glorious Triumph and All I Got Was This Lame T-Shirt' or some bullshit.

He nods along as their leader gives his suggestion on how to proceed. "Makes sense. Look the part and no one's gonna question you being there. Guessing it'll be a fancy gig too if a man like that's hosting it."

Turning to Tone, Sven offers a shrug. "Doubt it'd be that simple. Not as easy to get your hands on as a pair of sneakers."

Mechanics

Connected to know of a gun dealer?:[2d6]=5
Dunno what attribute if it's more for knowledge so omitted that

[Namelessjake]

"You should be able to find videos on the comnet to help familarise yourself," Thoras says to Em in reassurance.

"Hell the exhibit might even detail how the guns work," he adds, before turning to Tristan. "The museum is in the central district of the city, not too far from the old Assembly House, so their response time will be fast. Once your cover is blown you will have to move quickly."

"And the Ambulance?" Jin asks, speaking up for the first time since Thoras arrived.

"That's in hand, I've arranged for one to be left carelessly unlocked for you, I'll text you the location on the day," Thoras answers.

Sven

You have known of one or two black market arms dealers over the years, however such endeavours have been short lived, with the Diktat cracking down hard on weapons dealing. Older weapons like this are also not that common, with the weapons sold on the black market usually being higher tech. Currently you are unaware of anyone actively dealing in weapons.

[ratwizard]

Just say you can't make it happen, kid, Tone thinks as he listens to Sven, though he does not speak his mind. He knows that their cooperation is paramount to their survival — and success. The most important thing, the psychic reminds himself.

He listens calmly to the question about their escape, considering it closely. All else fails, I can get myself through any wall. But leaving anyone behind... No dice. Gotta get everyone out.

[greysigil]

Jug listens to the others talk, taking in the information. Those firing pins would likely be too fine and delicate for them to make the attempt, and so they rule out them trying almost immediately.

They look up, very slightly, at the mention of them being someone's bodyguard. "I suspect I will be doing more than just guarding bodies." They say, their flat, artificial voice echoing from behind their faceplate. "It will be serviceable cover. Who's will I be, for the night?"

They move their arm slightly back and forth once, and turn their head to face Sven, as he comments about the propagandists face. "I will make sure to give him one for you, then." They then return their head to face the map.

[Scratcherclaw]

After racking his brain for several moments, Sven shrugs. "Dikfucks kinda cracked down hard on weapon dealers. Maybe an old movie with gunslingers and all?" He pulls a couple of holodiscs from his bag, crudely labeled as The Last Frontier and Assassin Noir. "Seeing how they use 'em or whatever." Nevermind the dubbed audio. The picture's still in good condition...

He turns to Jug, giving them another shrug at their question. He flashes a smirk. "I guess whichever one of us looks the most dignified. Gotta dig out my old fancy duds, I guess." He lets out a lighthearted chuckle as the VI offers to give their quarry a good punch. "Do that, and you might just make my year."

[ratwizard]

Tone ignores the spiteful machismo surrounding Vibol's face, instead considering what sort of cover he finds most appropriate to fit into.

"I'm thinking valet, or something else service-related. It's what I'm familiar with. Easy enough to blend in."

[FinalTemplar]

"Short amount of time..." He said softly, trailing off. "Well, I'm in. There's only two ways this can go, and I'm not leaving there in the cops' hands. So either I do this successfully, or this is the end of the road for me." He says, with a devilish grin across his face. "And not only do I got a lot of fight left in me, but I've also wormed my way out of tighter spots." He thinks for a moment, not letting his grin fade. "I'm not really a fancy kind of guy, but I can usually get my way into places. I've got that kind of face that women seem to like." He seemed like he was going to make a joke, but then stopped himself. He looked over at Thoras; "Do we have any kind of guest list?"

[Namelessjake]

"No idea unfortunately. Although you can count on the guests being only the richest self serving Escriosians and collaborators on the moon," Thoras says in reply to Tristan. "The reason we don't know may be of some use though. The invitations to get inside are physical," he continues. "Meaning you should just be able to walk inside if you can get your hands on them."

Thoras' compad suddenly dings with a notification. "I'm going to have to take my leave," he says after reading whatever the alert was for. "Memorise the map and leave those for Jox to destroy," he adds, gesturing towards the four metal half spheres projecting the hologram of the museum. "I'll leave the rest in your capable hands. Just remember the element of surprise is key," he says as he begins to make his way towards the door. "Good luck, I'll see you afterwards."

[ratwizard]

Tone gives Thoras a simple nod of his head as their handler begins to depart. Surprise is key, he echoes. It's the only advantage we have in this.

Turning to the others, he casts a searching eye over them, hoping to sum up their assets. "What's your cover?" he asks Em and Stamps, noticing the two hadn't volunteered one yet.

[BartNL]

John spends his time studying the map, making mental notes of it all.
John then replies to Tone: "I will wear a nice suit and pretend I belong. That is usually sufficient."

[Scratcherclaw]

"That it does," Sven offers with a shrug to John's plain response. "Walk with confidence, act like you're meant to be there, and no one's gonna question you." That dude always did love keeping his head down, for better or worse. Turning to Tone and Em, she shrugs. "If the invite's a plus one, could just go that route. Gotta get our hands on some first though." I wonder if dad's been invited to this shindig. No way he's important enough, right? Man's a fucking loser.

[Fialova]

"Well, I reckon since I sound as much like a foreigner in this town as I am, it's best I don't do much of the talkin'. Best I stick to the silent bodyguard or escort type, same as you," Em responds, as Tone inquiries about her mission façade. No way I'm goin' in there all dolled up in a fancy dress and heels. Let one of the boys pretend to be high society, I know where I belong.

"Or maybe," she begins, as an idea formulates within her mind. She glances over to Tug, before offering an alternative cover story for herself. "Maybe I can be there as Tug's handler and mechanic. I keep the real muscle runnin' nice and smooth, and it gives me a reason to have tools on me. Meds too, as backup in case things go south for the 'boss.'" She grins, happy with her idea, and looks to the others in hopes that they think it as good of one as she does.

[FinalTemplar]

Tristan keeps up with the conversation, nodding at some of the points that were brought up, but glances over at Em as she talks, nodding slowly but getting more into it as she talks. "That's not a bad idea, I know you weren't asking me but I think that could work," Tris responds, thinking some more. "And that really is the best advice- Just act confident, pretend you're wherever you're supposed to be, and most people won't even bat an eye." He toys with the device that was handed to him earlier, flipping it in his hands and occasionally spinning it. 

[ratwizard]

"If not valet, then a driver for whoever looks rich enough to bring one," Tone offers, keeping his eyes on Stamps. Should give me the ability to keep my eyes on him the entire time.

[greysigil]

Jug's circuits light up when Em says the word "handler". The VI tries to parse the feelings: Term "Handler" = Unsettling. Searching for associated media.. The only result they find is a fragmented video clip of a man they can't quite see, shouting at them and other robots like them. They try to shake the feeling as best as they can, and return to the conversation at hand.

"Consideration: What about group size? Entering as one would draw suspicion, entering in many would be harder to support each other. Thoughts? They say, not actually turning from the projection, but observing each other member still.

"Technician is good, but may raise suspicion. What use is a bodyguard that needs constant maintenance?" They say, addressing Em's cover. "For thought: Sven is a purveyor and provider of various goods. If he had, for instance, a new experimental VI bodyguard that he was showing off to potential buyers, having the lead designer nearby to answer technical questions may mitigate standing out." They move their arms in an approximation of a shrug. "Or maybe not. I am not programmed to understand sales or marketing."

[BartNL]

"It will be busy. As long as we don't look like we are a group, and I have a feeling we won't, and we don't walk around as a unit, entering together should not prove to be problematic. A mechanic entering through the front door would stand out as odd though."

[Scratcherclaw]

Sven crosses his arms again, mulling over Jug's surprisingly cohesive idea. "Could work. No clue how our dickwad of a host would respond to me co-opting his party to make a fake sale though. But can always call it networking and spout some Diktat bullshit to get anyone off our backs." He shrugs, knowing all of this hinges on getting invitations in the first place. No use fucking around with cover stories when we can't get in anyways.

"Should focus on tracking down some invites first, yeah? Gotta be some rich fucker bragging about it online. Get our hands on one and clone some copies, change the UIDs, blah blah, and we're in," he says, knowing it'll inevitably be much more complicated than that. Guess we'll see how hard they are to crack.

[Fialova]

"Not sure I can convincingly come across as some high up VI frame architect, but I suppose that'll work," Em says with a shrug, as Tug offers their own version of a solution. "I suppose if I don't get a bunch of questions it should be fine, though. I can just look busy, maybe like I am watchin' for any abnormalities. I can keep my attention on Tug and hopefully the rich folk'll leave me be." Now what would a tech exec wear? Maybe a suit? Never been in a corporate HQ, I'll have to ask Lavender if they have any suggestions.

[ratwizard]

"Separate groups," Tone agrees with Stamps. "Pairs work best."

He turns to Sven, nodding at the suggestion. "Not keen on how to pull that off, but it's clever. We should try it."

A suit, a technician, a service bot, a few VIPs, a valet, the psychic lists off to himself. It's starting to come together.

[Scratcherclaw]

"Eh, just talk some mumbo jumbo like catalytic fluxors and digital convertors and everyone's gonna tune you out anyways," Sven says with a cocky smirk as Em expresses concern over fulfilling such a role. "And if any experts show, just say you can't legally discuss it. Works for me all the time. Spout some BS about the Diktat Apparel Guidelines binding me and, bam, I've got a sale anyways."

[Namelessjake]

"I shouldn't need a cover if I'm not going inside, but I should be able to help you get in before I have to go get the getaway vehicle," Jin says, speaking up after quietly listening to you all talk. "Even if only some of you can get in through the main entrance, they should be able to help the others sneak in," he adds.

"Should we try and get our hands on an invite in the next couple of days, or do we try and jump someone on their way to the event?" He asks, mostly looking at Tone and Sven as they had been discussing the invitations.

[ratwizard]

"Could be a bathroom window gets left open, or a backdoor," Tone reasons, adding onto Jin's thoughts. "Just depends on what kind of security they're running."

He considers Jin's question for a moment. We try ahead of time and fail, we risk showing our dead. Course, if we wait until the day of, we might find ourselves without an in. Hmm.

"Should try what we can now. Just play it safe," Tone says, mostly looking in the direction of Sven who seems most confident.

[Scratcherclaw]

Sven offers Jinn a shrug. "Can't say I'm keen on fucking ourselves over by waiting around on our asses. If we got a shot now, I say we take it." He pulls out his compad, beginning to scroll through his social media feeds, looking for any big shot who's trending. Big enough name and you'd be invited, yeah?

 

[Namelessjake]

Sven

Make a Connect/Int roll.

[Scratcherclaw]

Mechanics

Connect: [2d6]=9

[Namelessjake]

Sven

Searching through the social media feeds, you find quite a few people boasting of being invited - mostly Vaylan collaborators rather than the Escriosian invitees.

One in particular catches your eye, a fellow student of the Vaylar Preparatory Academy, Randis Coltan. A couple of years younger than you, they probably wouldn't remember you, however you remember them. As the son of a regional administrator - their mother overseeing a large agri-district somewhere out near Kasi'lariz, the closest major city to Kasi'mela - they were popular among their fellow class mates, always surrounded by an entourage made up of the children of wannabe social climbers. From what you can tell from their profile, they live somewhere in Keossisk Heights, a rich suburb of Kasi'mela.

You also find a Vaylan VP of a Escriosian corporation, Seaway Technologies, called Viliana Aracelle. She appears to live in a district near to downtown, Asher Square. The area contains many of the nicer towers the Escriosians have constructed in the city - usually reserved for Escriosians or prominent collaborators.

Further investigation would be needed to track down their exact addresses.

[greysigil]

"Evaluation: Risking our opportunity early seems inadvisable, but so too does waiting until the last minute to find an entrance. Results inconclusive." Jug says as the group considers each option. "Statement: I will aid in any way necessary, in either route we choose to go. Say the word and I am there."

Ed = possible source of technical specifications. AddTask: Ask Ed about possible information, advice, specs.

[Scratcherclaw]

A smirk creeps across Sven's face as he catches sight of a distant memory on his feed. Randis Coltan, there's someone I haven't thought about in awhile. Wonder if he's still a prick. He scrolls further down the feed and spots a mediocre meme praising the regime. Yeah, that tracks. He shows off his compad to the rest of the group, saying, "Care for a prep school reunion, John? Got us a lead. And a backup if that one falls through."

He swipes around his former classmate's profile, feeling the only vindication one can feel from knowing they're logically better off than a classmate. "Randis Coltan. Lives somewhere in Keossisk Heights. His mom runs one of the larger agri-districts by Kasi'lariz. Just the kind of rich, cocky fuck who's easy to pick off." He swipes over again, bring up the other target's profile. "And if that fails, we can try Viliana Aracelle, fitting name." He chuckles to himself, wondering if she became a near-villain to suit her given name. "VP of an Escriosian corp, lives in Asher Square downtown."

[BartNL]

John let's out a deep sigh at Sven revealing his name and their connection. "Yes, let's have a reunion. Do you have a plan to swipe the invite?"

[ratwizard]

John? Guess Stamps is just a handle, Tone notes to himself, his eyes lingering on the main in the suit.

"Gonna need to find out if it's a physical invite, or an encrypted one. Breaking in's a high risk, but getting into his infranet inbox might be easier. Any chance one of you's a tech-head?"

[Fialova]

"Yeah, that should be fine I guess," Em responds, as Sven offers her advice on how to blend in with the other techies. She then listens as the man explains his potential plan for obtaining an invite. She does not know the people he is referring to, but the confidence of his words leaves her feeling somewhat at ease with the plan. Kinda crazy they want us to get our invites if the entire plan hinges on us gettin' in there. You'd think they'd have worked that part out in advance.

"Not that level of tech," Em responds, at Tone's question. "I'm good with big stuff. Vehicles, machinery. Not really done much in the way of hacking into stuff. Hopefully the invite's physical and we can just snatch it." 

[FinalTemplar]

Similarly to Sven, Tristan begins searching through holofeeds looking for anyone who might be going to the event. He uses the time to ponder their situation, and wonder about what a plan B would be, if it came down to it.

ooc

Tristan is looking for pretty much any indication of someone gloating about or talking about the event. He is not against being arm candy for some man or woman who needs a +1 to the event, if he has to.

[Scratcherclaw]

Sven offers an apathetic shrug to Tone. What, do I gotta do everything? "No expert, by any means, but I've tinkered around with tech from time to time. Guess we'll see how the invites look first, yeah?"

 

[Namelessjake]

"Thoras did say they should be physical. Hopefully we can swipe Coltan's tickets and then maybe we can forge the rest?" Jin says, ending his sentence with the intonation of a question as he looks at Sven, likely assuming the man would be able to assist in creating fake invitations should real ones be obtained.

"If not, we can still always break in," he adds with a shrug. "If a couple of you can get inside with real invitations that should be even easier as they can help the others."

Tristan

With a cursory glance you are unable to find anyone talking about the event. You can only assume your circles don't overlap with those who will be in attendance.