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[Draft][Story-bit] Enter the Sabre
[Draft][Story-bit] Enter the Sabre
#1
Here's a piece from Dartz and me mainly about her character Jet just arriving to help deal with the robberies.
Main thread - http://drunkardswalkforums.yuku.com/topic/7461

=====================================================================

Day 1

Blue Grass Airport
Lexington, Kentucky

Sheriff
Deputy Ruth waited with a sign just beyond the airport check points for
her charge to show up. Being a small airport made it a good place to
pick up the fen coming to help deal with these robberies. No DHS to
speak of...in theory at least. A blacksuit was heading straight for the
arrivals area. She swore as she recognised him. How the hell did they
know the fen was coming here? She growled to herself, she wasn't going
to make it through the checkpoints before they got to the fen.

Agent
Smith wasn't a happy man, he hated the fen. While he followed the book
it didn't stop him from taking any opportunity to be a total asswipe to
any fen coming down. He maintained contacts within the airport system
so he could intercept fen trying to squeeze into the country through
some of the smaller airports.

"I'm saying... it doesn't come off," A voice, mildly annoyed, and almost femine. "It's not armour, it a part of me,"

Ruth's
first impression was of a tall woman, clad in pearlescent white armour.
She carried a helmet under one arm, and what at first seemed to be a
backpack with a pair of wings folded into it. A few moments later, it
became clear to her that the backpack was a part of the armour.

She had red hair, fair skin, and strange ears. Where they covered in latex?

"It's
still gotta be declared ma'am," The fen ‘agent' winced at that. "And
tested and confirmed that it won't contaminate to local ecosystem,"
Agent Smith, doing his job by the book. As usual, he was being a
stickler for procedure. " And your helmet. Also the Pistol and the
handwavium in your pouch will have to be turned over."

"That wave's medicinal. I need that to not die if something goes wrong with my mechparts,"

"Well," sighed Smith, "It's also illegal down here. Are there any other contraband items you're carrying,"

The armoured woman just rolled her eyes, and turned out the contents of the pouch. Ruth couldn't see what fell onto the tray.

"Just that. Identification, some money, a datapad, the keys to my apartment on Genaros, and the ammunition for my sidearm,"

Smith's eyes narrowed as he inspected the bullets. ".357 Magnum Cop Killers?"

"Fen
pressure helmets are armoured. Jesus man, you ask me to come down here
and then you give me the third bloody degree. I have all your poxy
permits!" Her anger flared.

"We
still have to make sure. Now, about that iPhone you say you have inside
you. Are there any illicit copyrighted materials stored on it?"

Ruth'd
had enough, "Excuse me Agent Smith, do you wish to be arrested for
interfering with a police investigation?" The Agent sputtered in shock,
"What!?" She pointed at the armoured woman, "That is why she's here,
she is helping us with a investigating into the robberies," Having put
a hand on her weapon, "So I ask you again, do you wish to be arrested?"

The armoured woman turned and seemed to blink. She glanced between the agent and the cop.

"What's going on here?"

Agent
Smith is still sputtering while the other one is smirking. Not often
you get to see someone burn out a brain clutch. Ruth scooped up the
tray and signaled for the armoured woman to follow her. "Lets go."

The armoured woman gave her a quizzical look. "I'm a little caught short here. You are?"

The
woman leaned over slight and whispered, "I'm Deputy Ruth, that hollow
suit would have tied you up in red tape as long as he could. Come on
lets get out of here before his brain unlocks."

"Thanks," smiled the woman, offering a handshake "I'm Jet Jaguar, Operation Great Justice,"

Ruth
shook the offered hand and returned the tray with her free one. "I've
got a basic briefing in the car for you. You've may have seen the
video, but we have better pictures from a early morning bird watcher."
She said, leading Jet out of the airport and to a police van.

Outside,
Jet looked around, a little surprised at how small the airport actually
was. Only a few commuters and business travellers were in the main
terminal, some waiting by the baggage claim. The carpark was little
bigger than a small shopping centre back home. A bigger surprise, it
was mostly farmland around the airport, nothing more. A twin engined
turboprop droned overhead, banking off to the North. Jet envied it for
a moment, feeling her folded wings on her back.

"First time in America?" queried Ruth,

"Yeah," said Jet, looking a little uneasy. "I though DHS handled this sort of thing. That git scared the hell out of me,"

Ruth couldn't quite place Jet's accent. European?

"Oh he's like that,"

"Fen-hater?" asked Jet, "Are you sure it's okay I have this pistol? I'm not going to get arrested for it?"

Ruth
opened the side door on an anonymous yellow van for Jet. "As long as
you don't wave it around in people's faces I'm not going to say
anything." The inside of the van was setup for covert surveillance with
a seat in the back, a small desk for gear and a brace of old Pentium II
PC's. Most of it seemed to be little used.

Ruth
climbed into the driver's seat, "And yea, fen-hater, by the book
fen-hater. He'd have used all the rules he could to tie you up as long
as possible."

"Thanks
for the rescue then," Jet looked at the passenger's seat, and felt a
little uncomfortable all over again. How long ago was it that she'd
been in a car?  "And yourself?"

"I
think you guys call it fendane, I have friends that have gone up." Ruth
pointed to a rack holding a folder. "The pictures are in there." She
started up the van and pulled out of the airport carefully.

"Right,
right," Jet opened the window, reading the contents of the folder as
Ruth drove. "Why didn't you go up yourself, if you don't mind me
asking?"

Inside,
there were pictures of the destroyed banks, reduced to rubble as if
someone'd taken a wrecking ball to them, followed by six specially
marked photographs. The first two, blurred and barely in focus, the
third zoomed in far too close and the final three, a quadruped that
looked almost like a giant bus-sized cat.

"Most
of my family lives in this area."  She glanced over at Jet, "That set
of the mech thing where taken in the early morning by a bird watcher
about a week before the first robbery."

"That's big..."

"Yea,
has the governor really worried. We're not sure what it is besides a
mech of some sort. You can scan ‘em and send them off, maybe someone
upstairs'd know."

Jet thought. "Might be another transformer. You know Wave Convoy you do?"

Ruth
merged with traffic on the highway towards Frenchburg, "I've heard of
him, but don't know that much about him. I'm taking you to the first
robbery site, less people about, but they've not started clean up yet."

The
traffic was achingly slow. Jet checked her own GPS, and noted they were
doing near 123kph. It felt like they were crawling along.

"Right,"
nodded the cyborg, "Can I get some rest actually. I've come a long way
and I need to recharge the batteries," she smirked.

"Yea I know a small place near Frenchburg, they won't ask questions. Family owned, one of their sons went up two years ago."

"Thanks.
If I can get a good wave connection, I'll post this stuff back to Hotel
Quebec, and see what they make of it. It's a bloody big thing whatever
it is."

"They
might, I know they stay in touch with their son, but not how. We leave
them alone and try not to draw attention to them." said Ruth, "The
folder also contains info on the vaults. They where brute forced out of
the foundation and taken in one piece."

Jet sat, half stunned for a moment.

"...what?... wow. That's a lot of power."

Tonnes of steel and concrete lifted away in one piece. Whatever else it is, it's not short on strength.

"I
don't know if you've seen the youtube video yet. That's what forced the
governor's hand into asking for help. He doesn't want a panic on his
hands or it being set loose on a city. The damage from just trying to
stop it would be costly." Ruth glanced at Jet again. "We're not sure
how the vehicles working with the mech are avoiding radar even when
they are flying."

"I've
seen it," nodded Jet. "They fly it in? That must be at least a hundred
tonnes on it's own." A thought "If they stay below about thirty metres,
they'll be hard to spot on civil radar, especially behind mountains. I
used to do the same myself back home."

"We're
not sure on the fly part. The pictures from the bird watcher where
taken in less then ten seconds. It, according to him, was going really
fast. We've also become aware of cellphone disruptions in the areas
near the banks on the night of the attacks." She paused to check
traffic before changing lanes. "That weird flatbed might have something
to do with it. I swear it looks familiar, but I can't place it."

"The flying lorry with that U-shaped yoke on it?"

"Yea, just can't place it. Think it might be from a game."

"Computer Game?"

Jet
scanned for a mobile tower nearby, trying to hook up to a 3G internet
provider. She grimaced... nothing at all useable. Ruth could see a
stray lock of hair angling around like a searching antenna, apparently
under the cyborg's control.

"Which
one I can't recall, but I definitely seen it somewhere," Ruth tried to
ignore the hair with a life of it's own and keep her eyes on the road.

"Someone
upstairs'll have seen it if it is." She sighed. "Reception out here is
crap in anyways, but can you track the disruptions with the mobile
phones, tell which towers are being affected? If we can do that, we
might be able to tell where they're coming from... or going."

"Well
it's more like the signal is running into a wall. Sudden zero
connectivity according to the techs we've interviewed. The hills and
such in the area don't help ether so connectivity has never been good."

"And no footprints because they're flying it, right?".... a pause... "Clever buggers."

"We've
tried to track them, but they end about a mile from each robbery in a
empty field. We have found marks that look like something landed in the
area. Haven't done over flights of the area near Mountain Valley where
those pictures from the bird watcher where taken."

"I'll
do that after I've had some rest. Before I went up, I used to film
high-speed flights and post them on the web. I can hit Mach 1 if I have
to," bragged the cyborg. "They won't spot me unless they're lucky,"

"Just don't go around shattering people's windows with the boom." Commented Ruth

"Don't worry, that's just a myth," smiled Jet knowingly. "And going that fast gets too hot too quick anyway,"

Ruth chuckled, "Alright, still be careful of flying over people's houses. They may take potshots at you."

Jet blinked, "Really?"

"Yep,
mainly as you head up into the mountains, the area is pretty divided
about the fen. Some will wave, others will just go get their guns."

A shudder. "That's unsettling." she glanced out the window, "Is this it?"

With
a nod Ruth pulled the van into the small parking lot. A rain-stained
ten-foot satellite dish sat just at the edge of the woods, seeming odd
to Jet for a moment. "Yep, the Little Watch Inn."

It
was a small motel, single storied with a flat roof. Jet counted ten
rooms or so, and a reception office. It seemed old, like the dish, but
still well kept. The grass was cut, and the paint seemed clean if not
fresh.

"I'll
see you tomorrow morning I guess." said Jet, yawning slightly, "Oh...
by the way. If anyone calls and says you're on the global frequency...
they're not nuts. Listen to them, they're here to help."

"I know." Ruth just smiled.

"I see. They normally get involved in this sort of thing. Anyway, we'll see tomorrow. And try get an idea whose behind this."

Ruth nodded, "Keep the folder too in case you can get a connection to up there."

"Right so. See you tomorrow,"

================================================================

The
owner, Janet Fokker, was a middle-aged woman, short and greying
slightly. The shock on the her face when she saw Jet made made the
cyber laugh nervously. A quick explanation from Ruth however earned her
a discount rate. Jet noticed a small photograph on the table of someone
in a dark military uniform. A heart-shaped medal was displayed beside
it, with a collection box ‘For our troops overseas'.
   
Jet drew the obvious conclusion and kept quiet about it.

"Well
we used to have a working interwave connection," said the owner, "Using
the old satellite outside. It's been on the blink since August. If you
can get it going I'll give you the network key,"

"Shouldn't
be hard," said Jet. "Nodes get shuffled around from time to time. Maybe
your satellite's looking for one that isn't there anymore."

That was the simple explanation.

"I been so worried about my son Roy, since SerenityCon," the owner said. "Last message I got was in July said he was going,"

Jet looked concerned for a moment.

"You know his faction?"

"I think a...'gearhead'." she wasn't sure if that was the right word. "He was a pilot of something he called a VF-1."

"Right... I saw a few of those." Get shot down, Jet didn't add. "I'll check up when I get online,"  

"Thanks,"

"One
more thing," said Jet, putting a finger to her lips. "If you get any
phone calls saying you're on the global frequency, don't ignore them,
it's going to be important,"

"Uh... yeah," the woman blinked. It must be come fen-code, she guessed.

Jet's
room was small... having little more than a bed, a chair, TV, phone,
and shower. Of course everything was bolted down besides the remote and
that was a cheap easy to replace model.

She
stored her pistol,ammunition and the pouch containing most of her
equipment in an empty drawer, she set about fixing the dish. The
hardest thing about that was the forty questions from the two kids.

"Are you a robot ma'am,"

"Cyborg"

"Like the Terminator?"

"The opposite"

"So you're metal on the outside, skin on the inside,"

"Sorta,"

And so on. Jet had to swallow her anger, telling herself over and over again that they were just curious kids.

"What's it like to fly?" the youngest questioned.

"Ever jump off a tall building," Jet snarked back.

"No..."

"Maybe you should try it," she smirked.

"No...
my mom'd kill me," said the kid. Jet honestly couldn't tell if they
were a boy or a girl. Clothes gave no hint. Even the name Alex was
androgynous. She shrugged and carried on. It looked more like the dish
had just gotten knocked out of alignment a little, losing the satellite
node it had been aimed at. Half asleep, and with her onboard power
cells deep in the red, she allowed herself a satisfied smile as the
signal bar crept up.

Then
followed it with a deep breath of real air. The smell of cut grass
lingered in her nostrils for a few moments, before she turned back to
her room. Dusk was settling in, and the L5 stations where rising. The
bright star of Grovers Corners was beginning to drop below the horizon,
while Kandor city sparked on the rising moon's surface.

A
few fenships scooted overhead, seeming to chase each other across to
L5. She picked out her home, Genaros, with her own navigation software.

It
felt strange to be looking up at the sky again. Not unpleasant... just
a little bit weird to be pounding ground again. American cars looked
funny too.

It
was strange that she was sent, however. Weren't earthbound issues
normally handled by the BBI? Maybe they were why she was sent? It
wasn't the first time they'd made specific requests for people from the
PKG if it was. Maybe they'dve been better served by the new Patrol?

Make one Tiger run on one base, and suddenly you're James Bond. At least for a first mission, it seemed to be an easy one.  

After
scanning and sending off those photographs, she checked for Roy the
VF-1 pilot. He wasn't hard to find. She smiled, saving the good news
for the next morning. Leaving the bed alone, Jet sat down in the old
chair, and went to sleep sitting bolt upright.

----->>

>> MIME encode complete.
>> Message length within key.
>> OTP connection establish.
>> Server Key authenticates.
>> Request HashPad d3841adcd395fc4fff47f075a7ccb49e
>> HashPad d3841adcd395fc4fff47f075a7ccb49e Server Accept.
>> Enciphering message.
>> Transmitting message.
>> Server acknowledges sane message received.
>> HashPad d3841adcd395fc4fff47f075a7ccb49e delete.

>>From:Juliette2@grunthall.fen
>>To: alitagally@grunthall.fen
>>Subject: Kentucky Cat

>>I'm
onsite. Local reaction was mixed, but better than expected. DHS were
their usual >>welcoming selves. My local law enforcement contact
seems to be BBI, or at least aware of >>them. It would surprise
me if they weren't involved in this already tbh.  Normally it's them
that >>handles these things, isn't it.

>>I've
attaching photographs of the mech used in the robberies. I don't
recognise it myself. Can >>you get this identified? My first
thought was that it was a transformer of some sort, like Wave
>>Convoy, but something this big's got to be something else. It's
twice the size of a Dublin bus, >>and at least a hundred tons in
mass.

>>They're
flying it in to the banks, letting it do it's dirty work, then lifting
the vaults out holesale >>using a waved tow truck, and a pair of
works vans. There's disruption of the mobile network, >>that
seems to be caused by a waved lorry with a strange device on the
flatbed. Local law >>seems to recognise the lorry. It may be from
a computer game. It's not one I know offhand

>>I've attached some pictures run through CSIEnhance. They're poor, but you can make out >>most of it.

>>The
Cat runs away about a mile or so, to an open field, where it appears
they pick it up too. >>None of this shows up on radar. A hundred
ton cat-mech, and a truck capable of lifting a bank's >>vault in
one piece... whoever they are, they know what they're doing. Or stole
it from some who >>did.

>>Will
be making overflights of the area tomorrow. Take some pctures, see if I
can find anything >>out of the ordinary. I'll try find a thermal
camera aswell. A hundred tons of mech can't be that >>easy to
hide?

>>With
a bit of luck, local law can bring them in when we find them. We'll
find out who they're >>working for, and where this money's going.
To early to jump to conclusions about them >>funnelling it all to
the Boskonians, they could just be Turnerites, or some locals who got
their >>hands on some cool toys.

>>-JJ

----->>

Digital
one-use cipher, it couldn't beaten. Jet had two terabytes worth of it.
Should an agent be compromised, their entire key could be
de-authorised, ensuring that it could never be used again. The only
problem was the raw computing power needed to keep track of keys, but
in Fenspace, computing power wasn't an issue.

=====================================================================
_______________________________________________________________
Characters
Sabre Fang
Dakota
Warning:
Dihydrogen monoxide
Containment Vessel








Reply
 
#2
Day 2

Little Watch Inn
Near Frenchburg, Kentucky

Jet
left her pad running overnight on the desk, beside the phone. When Ruth
saw her through the window, she assumed Jet was awake. The cyborg sat
upright, dead still on the chair. The bed was clearly unslept in.

Did she even take her armour off?

Ruth knocked on the door. No answer.

"Jet!" she called. "Miss Jaguar, you awake in there?"

No
answer. She glanced through the window. Jet hadn't moved. There was
something so unnatural about her position. Both arms on the armrests,
feet planted firmly on the carpet and her head upright.

"Jet!" she banged on the door, starting to get a little worried.. "You alright?"

A moment.

"Yeah. One sec'"

She
saw Jet stand up, as if she'd been wide awake the whole time. It was
still eerie. She answered the door, looking as fresh and rested as it
was possible for her to look.  "Mornin'" Jet said. "I Haven't gotten a
response yet. That could take a few days."

"Hadn't
expected one," Ruth shrugged, "I know you've got bigger problems up
there than a few bank robberies in the so-called ‘danelaw."

"That's why I was ordered here."

"Oh?"

"We
need to be sure there's no connection to the Boskonians. And if there
is, we need to know what it is. After Osaka, and SerenityCon, nothing's
being ignored,"

Jet's expression was harsh, and strangely cold.

"I heard of what happened at Osaka and SerenityCon. Hope you guys are giving them as much hell as you can for that."

"We're
trying," sighed Jet, "SerenityCon was the largest Boskonian attack of
the war. They tried to take out most of the fen leadership... we just
about held ‘em back." a pause. Jet snapped her fingers with a metallic
clack as she remembered something. Her expression brightened. "And I've
got to tell Janet what I found about her son, can you wait a few
minutes."

Ruth guessed it was good news. "Yea I can wait in the van."

"Great, this won't take too long."

Jet
found Janet still asleep. Not wanting to wake her, she just left a note
under her door, stating that Roy was alive and well, and doing CAP over
Helium city on Mars. Ruth had the van's engine running by the time she
got back.

"Feels good to deliver good news, Jet?"

"Yup. There's been too much bad news lately."

She still grimaced as she pulled the door behind her.

"Well every little bright spot of hope keeps us going. Going to head over to the Frenchburg robbery site"

Jet just nodded, and stayed oddly quiet for the rest of the journey.

Ruth
carefully pulled the van up to what had been the entrance to the bank,
stopping just before the police tape sealing it off. There wasn't much
around the bank, besides a store just down the road, most of the lots
around appeared to have been specifically cleared, like more had been
planned for this area. The bank itself, however was little more
scattered mounds of rubble... recognisable only by the remains of an
ATM, and the sign still on the ground.

"We
think they knocked all the external cameras out before they brought
that mech in. Given that they appeared to have picked someone up off
the roof in the video. Probably someone with a sledgehammer."

"Good reach," commented Jet, "Any sign they were using any sort of power armour?"

Ruth gave her head a shake, "Not that we know of."

"Damn," Using Panzer Kunst against ordinary people would be like using sledgehammer on an egg.

Ruth
pointed out some of the damage to the parking lot, "Foot prints from
it, a lot more all over the place compared to the other two. They
actually seemed to have gotten cleaner about their robberies."

"So they're still learning how to use it. Let's hope they fucked up then"

"I
really don't want to find out what happens when they become good with
it. They could flatten half a town before we can stop them and end up
flattening the other half ourselves doing it."

Jet thought.

"Worst
comes to worst, once I find this thing, you can call the airforce in
and blow it while it's outside the town. But I'd really rather we
capture people alive. Dead men tell no tales"

Ruth
nodded, "Yea, need to find out where that money is disappearing too.
More then money in those vaults, a lot of jewelry and other items that
hasn't turned up anywhere local."

"Well.
Can we wait until there's nobody around? I'd really rather as few
people as possible knew I was here,. Fox will have a bloody field day."

Ruth glanced at Jet, "Yea, but I don't know when the clean up crews will leave, they might have a night shift."

"Maybe they could do with a quick smoke break or something... somewhere where they can't see the bank."

Ruth laughed, "Well I could get out and just ask what their shift hours are...ere.... I don't think it will be a problem."

Jet
watched the deputy discuss it with the foreman, who seemed only to
happy to agree. The men packed themselves into a work truck and drove
off, leaving behind bits of equipment and a flatbed. "Odd time for a
break..." one commented, peering into the van. Jet was hiding in the
back.

She
was interrupted by the foreman, who just gave Jet a smirk through one
of the van's windows. He was wearing a small blue arm band, nothing but
a piece of cloth tied around his upper arm.

"Alright, all yours for half a hour."

Ruth just shook her head, "Figures."

Jet
double checked to be sure, using the traditional eyeball, and a more
thorough scan with her radar, and radio detectors. A pair of pilots
were talking about handwavium... but a quick triangulation put them at
about ten miles out, and heading away. Ruth watched the whole thing.
The cyborg stepped out of the van and stretched, looking glad to be out
of it, before both her wings swung up and locked into position. A pair
of stubby fins seemed to jut down... control surfaces the deputy
figured, until they started to move almost in tune with the antenna
hair.

"What the?" she murmured. Was she going to fly away or something.

"Radio's
clear," Jet announced with a thumbs up. Her wings snapped back into
place with a metallic click, almost on a thought. "Just some general
aviation, and the local pastor cursing fen to hell and damnation." She
noticed Ruth's expression. "What?"

Ruth gave herself a shake, "Just through you where about to take off."

"Nah, just making a quick scan. I didn't pick up anyone watching us so lets get to work."

It
looked like a demolition crew had been through there. The concrete in
the carpark was torn up, gouged by three-clawed paws. Chunks of
concrete lay impaled by bent re-bar, mixed with wood splinters and
paper.

"Has it rained since the attack?"

"Not that I know of, why?"

"Well...
if we're lucky there might still be handwavium traces... especially if
it scratched its paint on the concrete. It'll be like a fingerprint...
it'll stick to the people who're using it."

"Well,
there'll be water if God wills it," Ruth shifted through the rubble,
finding some trace amounts of yellow paint. She held up a piece of
brick to show Jet, "I'll take some scrapings of this as it doesn't
appear the work crew is using anything painted yellow."

"Don't let me touch them, I'll contaminate the sample. I'll see if there's anything around the vault,"

Nothing
but foundations, and more yellow paint scratches. Electrical cables and
ventilation ducts looked like they'd been ripped apart. There where
what looked like giant bite-marks on some of broken walls, scored with
what looked like silver traces of the metal the mech had been made of.
More samples to take.

"Wow," breathed Jet.

"Yup,"
Ruth put her hands in the pocket's of her brown deputy's jacket.
"That's exactly what I said when I first saw it. Scooped the whole damn
thing right out to take it who knows where."

"I've never seen anything like this," Jet said, putting one arm behind her head. "How long before the cleanup comes back?"

Ruth glanced at her watch, "About ten minutes or so."

"Right.
Time enough to get a few more samples, then on to the next bank. If
we're lucky we can be done before lunch," she smiled. "It's been a
while since I had fresh food,"

Just a few chips of concrete with metal traces on them was enough.

Ruth
nodded, "Can take you to the Stanton site and I don't think they've
started clean up there yet. The Campton site is still crawling with
people and reporters." Ruth headed for the van, "I know a little BBQ
place along the way, they do pick up orders."

"Great, Hope you don't mind me eating in the van. Be a bit of a shock for the locals if a Kunstler walked in the door,"

Jet
still looked uncomfortable sitting in the back seat. Ruth chuckled,
"Nope, just don't get it into the electronics we haven't even used in
years."

"Speaking of electronics. Do you know what a handwavium taster is?"

Ruth gave her head a shake. "Nope, is that like a food taster?"

"In
a way." Jet had to stop to think, "It's a tool for analysing handwavium
in a sample. You put a little bit of a sample in, and it gives off an
evil laugh before giving you a colour and level code. It's not hard to
use. I can't do it because my armour might contaminate the sample. It's
best if a wavium-free person uses it."

Jet deliberately didn't mention who invented it.

From
the evil laugh comment Ruth could guess, but chose not to. "Don't know
where I can get one at, much less the info on how to read it properly."

"I brought one with me, it's back at the motel. They're not hard to read."

Ruth started the van, "Alright, lets hit the next site then. I'll call ahead and order the BBQ and pick it on the way."

Jet licked her lips. "It's times like this that make me glad I can still taste."

Ruth
flipped open a cell phone and placed a order before she backed the van
out. Jet felt the signal disrupt her bodies systems for an instant. In
her mind, she was flexing her toes. In actually, she was adjusting the
exhausts on her thrusters. She listened to the deputy make the order,
not actually knowing what half the stuff she ordered was. Fresh food
sure beat the vitamin man.

After
Stanton, she'd show Ruth how to use the taster, then take an overflight
of the surrounding area for a few hours. Campton could wait until night
time.

One big question though. How do you stop a giant mech?

Stop whoever's piloting it. And if that's a built in AI?

The
barbecue didn't disappoint. Fresh meat... actual dead chicken parts
rather than flavoured tofu. Real potato chips, or ‘Fries',  and a
crispy salad made with (reasonably) fresh picked vegetables.

"I have to admit, there are some advantaged to a danish lifestyle," said Jet with her mouth full.

Ruth laughed, "Yea I could see being near large sources of food as being a good thing."

"We have food. But what we get at Grunthall I think is for people who've lost the ability to taste,"

"I'll
bet," a beat. "So what are you exactly?... If you don't mind my askin'.
I saw you this morning sleeping in that chair, and then there are those
wings on your back. Does your armour even come off?"

"No"
said Jet, putting a piece of chicken down on a keyboard, "Long story
short, a few years ago it was just an armoured suit. I built and waved
it, and was kind of annoyed when it turned out a completely different
shape to me," she tapped the suit's chest,  "Thanks to a quirk of the
handwavium. Sometime afterwards, I managed to accidentally fuse myself
to the suit,"

"So it's a part of you're body.... like a cyborg?"

"Yup," she smiled, freaking Ruth out a little.

"That must be awful,"

Jet
chuckled, "Everyone says that. Trust me, it's not as bad as you think.
The most annoying thing is the people who insist I'm female."

"But, you are a woman, aren't you?"

Damn. Jet grimaced.

"No. That's just how the suit was built, and my body was biomodded to fit."

Ruth just shuddered, "That's all kinds of disturbing,"

"It's not the worst. I can do some cool stuff. It can be pretty fun too."

On
question above all however, gnawed at Ruth's mind as she drove. Just
how in the heck did someone enclosed in armour like that go the
bathroom? It was a silly question, and one she could never ask, but it
bothered her all the way to Stanton.

The
Stanton site was more of the same. The same paw prints gouged out of
the ground. The same yellow paint scratches and metallic slashes. Again
Ruth took samples while Jet watched, careful not to contaminate.

The
destruction was much the same, the attackers seeming to have crashed in
from the east. The tornado shelter was still standing, bent a little
with the door burst open. There were thousands of dollars still on the
ground, coated with red dye when the ATM had been burst open.

It looked like blood.

The
vault was gone, scooped up out of the ground in much the same fashion.
Water had pooled in the foundation from a broken main. Jet kept an
antenna on the airwaves, looking for any signs they were being
monitored. She caught a civil band broadcast by chance.

"I
tell you boy, It was huge. A giant robot cat, right on down Mountain
valley three weeks ago. Must've been damn near twice the size of my
rig, straight across the road"

"You all full a shit Jodie. You been popping to many go pills or sommat. Giant robot cat my ass,"

Jet
spoke aloud as she radioed, "Jodie, Jodie this is," she chose a handle
of her cuff,  "The Jaguar. You say you saw a giant cat too? Over"

Ruth looked at her like a madwoman, hearing only one side of the conversation. Jet just tapped her ears. ‘Radio,' she mouthed.

"Well hot damn lady Jaguar, I dang knew I weren't going crazy. You saw him too, a big yellow sucker? Over."

"Yup," she lied, "Where'd you see him man?" She tried to match the American accent. It came across a bit awkward.

"Mountain Valley, right by State Highway 378 heading northwest, where you see him Jaguar? Over"

She closed the channel. "Ruth, where were those photograph's taken again?" It was practically a demand.

"Joe Ward Fork Road, in Mountain Valley, why?"

Jet winked with a grin.

"Thanks
man. I saw him down on Joe Ward Fork Road while I was watching the
birds. Going past like a bat out of hell. Thank you kindly Jodie, if I
see you I'll buy you a beer. Jaguar out."

"Well I'll be getting into Stan..." Jet cut the channel.

Ruth was glaring, "That accent was awful,"

"My
own was too distinctive," explained Jet, a gleam in her eye. "I got
some truckers on civil band. One of them saw our cat three weeks ago,
near State Highway 378."

"Damn, that was lucky,"

"Yup," smirked the cyborg, "Sometimes you just happen to roll a natural three,"

And
plotted on a map, that'd give a general direction to search in.
Brilliant. When lady luck smiles, she smiles brightly. The duo spent a
few more minutes picking through the wreckage, Jet keeping an ear out
for more information. The skies above began to darken, a low cloud
rolling in.

A few spots of rain pecked at the van's windows.

"Can you fly in this Jet?" asked the Deputy.

A rumble of thunder answered from above.

"Lightning and cyborgs don't go well together."

Damn. For every boon, there had to be a bust. It was the order of the universe, wasn't it?

"Well, head on back to the inn, and we can plan for better weather tomorrow. And you can show me how to test those samples."

On the outskirts of Stanton, a lonely trucker waited in a lay-by.

"Yeah," nodded Jet, "That'd be the best."

An autumn storm had well and truly blown in by the time they reached Little Watch.

"Well, that's here for the rest of the day I reckon,"

Jet nodded, opening the door with her key. "I'd almost forgotten how annoying rain is. "

They
both rushed inside, chased by wind and rain. Water trickled off of jets
armour, pooling on the carpet underneath her feet. A message was
waiting on her Pad

>>From: alitagally@grunthall.fen
>>To:  Juliette2@grunthall.fen
>>Subject: Kentucky Catnip

>>
Positive identification courtesy of Black and Red Riders. The cat mecha
is a Zoid, specifically >>a Zaber Fang(Sabre Tiger) model. The
truck appears to be a Gap Truck, based off of >>Command &
Conquer, which explains the disruption off the cellular network.

>>Black Rider will provide a device capable of neutralising the mech temporarily without
>>damage. They'll get it to you in approximately 36 to 48 hours.

>>-Alita

"We have a name for our Cat, It's called a Zaber Fang Zoid."

"Oh? What's a zoid anyway? Just a fancy name for a mech?"

Jet
shrugged, "Never heard of it. See what's on wikipedia about Zoids
tonight. We'll be getting some help in the next couple of days... if
you don't mind a few more fen dropping in,"

Ruth
chuckled "Nope, if they can avoid the DHS on their own. I don't think I
can get away with bluffing Smith again. Thou I figure he'll be keeping
his head down for a while."

"I'll
let them know... uh one moment," she held up her hand, before rooting
through the pouch attached to her hip, "Ahah!," she held up something
that looked like a watch, "A wrist-com, Mark 2 version. I don't need it
because my hardware does the same job, but I could be in the air when
they arrive, so you should be able to use this to talk to them, or me
securely."

Jet handed the device to a sceptical Ruth.

Ruth took it with a nod and looked it over. "Thank you."

"Just keep it out of the hands of the DHS, or any other danelaw, " she warned. "or I get the blame."

Ruth
nodded again, "I'll try." She slipped it into a pocket. "We should get
those samples tested." She pulled the sample bags from another pocket.

"Yeah.
The taster's on the table. You put the sample on the tray and close it.
Push the button, it'll make a mad-scientist's laugh and give you a
colour code, and a level. It's not exactly CSI."

Ruth
nodded and picked it up to carefully put the first of the samples in
the tray. She closed the tray and pushed the button. After the rather
creepy laugh she checked the results. "What the?"

"Oh, it gives you six colours, and the strength of each colour... as sea states because it's a wave. Get it?" she smirked.

The
cop gave her a dubious look "Yes," she glanced at the readouts.
"Yellow; Fair. Red; Tidal. Magenta; Heavy. Blue; Choppy. Cyan; Stormy.
Green; Becalmed."

Jet thoughts. "Makes sense for something that big and mechanical."

"I still don't understand what it means,"

"Uh...
the colours correspond to different effects and imprints the handwavium
has. Yellow is for  engines and stardrives, red is for materials
alteration, magenta is for computer enhancements, blue is life support,
cyan is mechanical enhancements and green is for biomods."

The deputy paled. "Biomods!"

"Don't
worry, "Jet reassured, "If the reading's right, you'd need to
practically fall into a tank of this stuff to get a strong mod from
it,"  Or drink a pint or two of it, she remembered her own origin.

"Right... I'd rather not get a set of cat ears thank you very much,"

"Don't worry," repeated the cyborg, "it's pretty hard to get a mod."

After
that it was a case of lather, rinse and repeat. A few samples came up
white... meaning they were clean, though most matched the original. All
the handwavium used came from the one batch. Was the whole think waved
in one go then?

Next,
a map of the county. With Ruth's assistance, Jet marked off the two
places where there had been sightings of the Cat, and taking a ruler,
traced a line along the map extended in both directions.

"How
can we be sure it followed this line?" Ruth asked the obvious question.
"I mean, that runs along the valley for a bit, but it also runs over a
couple of ridges.,"

Jet
shrugged her metal shoulders, "As good a place as any to start though.
Especially if there's anything substantial under there."

"Nothing
but a few farms and a lot of tree cover. But nothing I know of big
enough to hide that that uh... zoid. There's nothing anywhere near
there big enough out there."

"The photographs were taken a week before the first raid, am I right?" Jet said.

Ruth nodded, "Yes."

"So
it was up there already before the raids started..... I'm guessing that
means they aren't repositioning it, but operating from somewhere near
here. It's a bit of a hunch... but they've hit places further away
before hitting Campton, which is closest."  a pause. "That's pretty
shaky reasoning," she chuckled to herself.

Ruth
shrugged, "Better then nothing, also not a lot of places to hide it
under cover. Even using a plane search would take a good while if they
where just parking it outside somewhere."

"Well
it's a good first place to look. After that... maybe the forest... uh,
Daniel Boone national forest... here," she put her finger on the map,
"Since it's in the centre of all three sites, and is...well... where
I'd hide it."

Ruth looked at the map, "Yea, but they could want us to look away from where they actually are."

"Who
knows why. But if they are down there, it'll save me a lot of work. If
they aren't, we're going to have to find a way to trace them after
their next attack... if there is one." An idea "Or I have to get up in
the air as soon as it happens and visually spot them. Landlines still
work during the raids, don't they?"

Ruth nodded, "Yes."

"Brilliant,"
beamed Jet. "Right, as soon as the call comes in, call me using the
wrist-com or hotel phone if that doesn't work. If I can get up quick,
and get high enough. I might be able to see them without being seen.
That'll be plan B. What do you think?"

"Should work."

Jet answered with a very satisfied, "Grand so,"

"Well,
it's getting late Jet... I better get going and let you get some rest.
At least we're lucky the weather's keeping them out of the sky too,"

"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow morning. And don't forget to train the watch to your voice,"

"I won't. Goodnight Jet,"

The door closed behind her. Jet checked the map, and the sample information noted down, then started typing on her pad.

>>From: [/url] Juliette2@grunthall.fen
>>To: alitagally@grunthall.fen
>>Subject: Kentucky Cat

>> Newest Developments. Chances are the people we're dealing with are just ordinary
>>squishies. They're not using power armour, and cybers are unlikely dirtside unless they're
>>bringing people in from above. That's a bit of a limiter. I can't fight them... you know what
>>Panzer Kunst does to a human body and we need them alive.

>>Weather has closed in for the night. I can't fly in a thunderstorm so my  reconnaissance flight
>>has
been shelved until tomorrow. There's been some chatter about Cat
sightings on the civil >>bands and I've been able to narrow down
the search area quite a bit. If it's not down there
>>however, things get nasty. There's the big Daniel Boone national forest right smack in the
>> center of all three sites. That could take days to search by air. There's a plan B, but it relies
>>on there being another attack.

>>We
found paint traces and metal scrapings from the zoid. The samples are
small enough that >>my armour could contaminate them, so I've had
the deputy I'm working with test them with
>>the taster. The results are attached. As you can see, this thing's got enough computer
>>enhancement in it to probably have developed an AI, along with the mechanical and material
>>enhancements you'd expect. The low biomod trace is reassuring. Yellow and Blue traces
>>suggest it might not be spaceflight capable either.

>>I've also loaned that Wrist-Com to the deputy I'm working with, so she can contact me
>>securely. Don't worry, she's trustworthy and it works well with my comms. Plan B is for her to
>>contact me using it as soon as a robbery report comes in, and for me to get in the air and get
>>a visual fix on them as they escape. Hopefully it's radio won't be affected by the mobile
>>disruption. If it is, landline phones aren't, but will take much longer.

>>The frequency hasn't been changed if the delivery team need to contact her directly. They'll
>>have to dodge DHS, so coming through an airport is out of the question.

>>Tomorrow, weather permitting, I can conduct a search flight over the Mountain Valley area.
>>Once we find it we can begin planning how to take it and it's operators down. I may need
>>assistance to handle the meat aspect of this. What's the policy on involving local law
>>enforcement on this?

>>That
can be a last resort, depending on what's available. I'd prefer to keep
‘danelaw out of >>this as much as possible. Right now we're still
at a deniable level. A deputy who may be BBI,
>>and the State Governor knows fenspace is involved in this, and that's about it.

>>-JJ

>> P.S. Any chance of getting the latest motorball scores. Can't get the site from down here.

--->>

Unknown, Kentucky

   
"We're going to move the time table up, word has come down from the
boss that we have a snoop about. He is really happy with the haul from
the banks so we're all getting bonus." The man raised his hands silence
the cheer then pointed to one of the others in the room. "Go get the
puppet ready for the closing act." He then pointed to two others, "Go
get the weapon ready for our toy, I want to see the puppet taking down
anything that flies during the closing act." The three picked left the
room. "The rest of us get to start tying up lose ends. Most of our
current marks haven't finished making use of their samples." He clapped
his hands together, "So lets be about it."
_______________________________________________________________
Characters
[url=http://www.fenspace.net/index.php5?title=Sabre_Fang]Sabre Fang

Dakota
Warning:
Dihydrogen monoxide
Containment Vessel








Reply
 
#3
Quote:“I’m saying... it doesn’t come off,” A voice, mildly annoyed, and almost femine. “It’s not armour, it a part of me,”

Do you mean "almost feminine"? And if so, why? I thought Jet's voice sounded like Priss? 
Reply
 
#4
That one was my mistake. Changed it to 'gruffly feminine' in the doc.... Priss always comes off as a bit rough when she's not singing.
________________________________
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?
Reply
 
#5
Cool. Glad to help out.
Reply
 
#6
Quote:Day 3

October 19th 2013

Little Watch Inn

Near Frenchburg, Kentucky

Ruth arrived at the Inn carrying a large folder, she headed for Jet's door. Jet was already awake. Ruth knocked on the door

"Yeah, I'm awake,"

In fact, she hadn't slept. Most of the night had been spent on the interwave trading emails. And watching motorball highlights. She opened the door, still looking strangely fresh.

"Morning," she said.

"Mornin'" answered Ruth, looking half asleep. "I was looking over some police reports... on a hunch ... and found something interesting." She held up the folder, "I was going through the records available shared state wide between the police districts. While we get a trickle of people going up, they always get treated as a missing persons case until they or someone else reports them safe." Ruth sighed, "How ever there are ones that never get cleared, but handwavium was found on site. The thing is, the area around the robberies and those sightings has a unusually amount of such cases."

"Wow... you think there's a connection?"

"Maybe, there has also been a unusually high number of crooks who have just fallen off the map in this area as well."

"Well... Can we mark them on the map here?"... the map still laid out on the table beside Jet's pad. "Maybe there's one near Mountain View,"

Reading from her folder Ruth market the points out on the map in red pen.

"That's a lot of missing people," commented Jet. At least twenty at a glance and one near Mountain View.

Ruth then marked all the points for those who'd been located in a blue pen. Just one, centred on Little Watch inn.

"Yeah, it's a lot," she said. "And it's our fault for not noticing them sooner, but state policy is not to follow up disappearances if handwavium's involved."

Jet looked sour,

"Well yeah... but the Governor thought we were wasting too many resources chasing up fen who turned up in orbit a few weeks later. Resources which at the time, we best allocated to real missing persons."

"Which makes sense," Jet was ashamed to admit.

"I think this whole thing is beyond just robberies now."

"I've got to report this in. If they're kidnapping this many people on the ground." she put her hand to her face, a dread chill running through her body. "At least twenty innocent people kidnapped, catgirled or murdered... that's not going to stay quiet."

"Maybe we can nail down these guys first before bring down the US gov on them."

"That's going to look like we're covering it up if we try to handle this ourselves.. And if we get the US government involved, the whole of fenspace will get blamed for it. Fuck,"

Jet sat down, pensively staring at her pad. "Fuck" she swore again.

"Damned if you do, damned if you don't." Ruth sighed.

"Just damned full stop." a beat. "I'm going to have to call this in. Twenty potentially dead people.. We're still going to have to stop them but.... this is going to be a media nightmare. And what's the US government going to do?"

"Turn red and have a screaming fit like they do with anything handwavium related. The government'll be little better. It depends on what they understand"

"It's your government. I don't know." A deep breath. "If this comes out before we find them, then we're going to lose them for good. They'll run for orbit. We lose any leads on where the victims are. We lose any leads on who they're working for. We're going to find them and bring them in, and when we've got them, you turn them over since you're the law. "

Ruth nodded, "That would work."

"I'm going to need a few minutes to send this back. Then, I'll check out a few of these sites," she put her finger on the map, "Do you want help from Fenspace, or do you think you could handle the meat element of this, while I take on the Cat,"

"I'll need help, don't even know what these guys have for hand weapons."

"I'll put it in and see what they say... but something like this is going political as well. Worst comes to worst and we can't spare anything, can you get any SWAT or anything like that? "

"Yea I'll have to pass the word on to the Governor, he actually likes the fen. It's why he asked you guys for help first before having to go up his own chain."

The cyborg gave her a suspicious look, born of a certain political cynicism, "We can't keep this from him. There's a difference between armed robbery with handwavium, and twenty five missing people." This is above my grade, she added mentally. I don't know anything about politics. I'm just the person they sent because it seemed like an easy mission.

Jet paused to get a hold of her thoughts. How did this work in RP? Just keep going, don't sit around twiddling thumbs waiting for orders.

"Alright... um... I want to be able to take them down as soon as I get a package from Fenspace... something to disable the zoid. It should arrive maybe tonight, or sometime tomorrow. Try and get something ready by then, can you? I want to take these bastards down."

"I'll get onto him while you get on with your reconnaissance flight. I'll feel better talking to him about this if I can tell him where these sonsabitches are,"

>>From: Juliette2@grunthall.fen
>>To: alitagally@grunthall.fen
>>CC:
>>Subject: Kentucky Cat [Development]

>>Right, we have a bigger problem here than just a mecha Cat being used to commit robbery.
>>Deputy Ruth just brought to my attention a number of missing-persons cases around here. At
>>least twenty-five. As there was handwavium involved, the police department assumed they
>>were fen who'd launched and not thought to check in, so assigned them a low priority.

>>These cases are all gathered in the general area of these three banks. If there's a correlation
>>between this, and the robberies... then that's far more disturbing. At best, they're being held
>>hostage but somehow I doubt this. Most likely they're gone, dead or catgirled or god knows
>>what. I don't need to explain what that means.

>>Dead Americans on American soil. I don't want to overreact on this, but as far as people
>>down here are concerned, that'll be 20 people killed by fen.

>>This is not something that's going to be hidden...Ruth is going to inform the Governor, and
>>see what can be done on this end. At least to let them be in a position to assist, and we can't
>>be accused of trying to keep secrets. The governor made the request so he's already involved >>before this, but what happens now is his decision.

>>I'm not sure what to do. I understand that Black Rider is delivering a package later tonight or
>>sometime tomorrow. At that point, we should be in position to bring them down. I would like to
>>do this as soon as possible, either with local police or Fen forces, but if you think I should wait
>>for help then I will.

>>Taking down the Cat would be no problem... but now there's the possibility that there've been
>>casualties, that's going to change the politics of this and I don't know politics.

>>-JJ

Jet boosted high, accelerating up to near five hundred kilometres an hour. She skimmed the bottoms of the clouds, still lingering after last night's storm. About six hundred meters or so, according to her own altimeter.

High and fast enough to not be seen easily.

It felt good to fly in an atmosphere again, the rush of a air tugging at her armour being something she missed out in the void between planets. Below, Daniel Boone National forest was a thick green carpet of trees rolling over hills and gullies.

That'd be fun to search. This place was huge... a search area nearly as big as the midlands back home, and much more sparsely populated. Three small towns, in three small counties, each as big as a county back home.

Flying under VFR rules, and far enough away from any airport, she was alone in the sky. Her radar could see a few bigger aircraft landing at Lexington, about sixty kilometres the the West. A light aircraft of some sort chugged up out of Stanton and a few big Jets were flying a couple of kilometres above

It was thirty kilometres down to Campton as the cyborg flew. Jet could see where the bank had been. Work crews clustered around the wreckage. It was a bigger town, the seat of County Wolfe, if she recalled correctly. All the town's hit were county-towns... did that make a difference in the US?

Jet circled at a safe distance, looking down into the pit where the vault had been. Just like the other two, only a little bit cleaner. There was more of the building standing... to the point where you could recognise that it might once have been a bank. Jet circled a few more times, swinging out wider and wider, before following the tracks the Cat left as it escaped. She could see the spot where it'd been picked up.. in what had been a horse paddock.

Just like the photographs... it looked like the cat'd been carried away in some sort of frame.

Jet leaned into a turn to the Southeast, angling herself towards a point marked on her GPS... just to the east of her search line. She grimaced as she saw the tree-cover thicken. That was one thing the map didn't show.

State Route 378 ran roughly East-Northeast, winding along a narrow stream along a steep valley. In her mind, she plotted out a circular area to search, centring on Joe-Ward Fork road. She throttled back on the engines in her boots, running slower on one thruster. Slower, but much quieter too. Even with it at full throttle, her back shielded the ground from the sound. And 400kph was still faster than just about any car in existence.

It'd be damned bloody hard for anyone to spot her, unless they were specifically looking for her. And then it'd just be ‘hard'.

She turned herself into a search pattern, zig-zagging across the line between both sightings. She ran along each valley, banked around, then headed back along, dipping down out of the clouds only long enough to get a good look. Then she repeated, to make sure it was right.

It was tedious work... passing over a few homes nestled in the woods. Above the wind roar, Jet thought she could make out gunshots... coming from the south. Shooting at her?..... Right, America, she realised. Someone was just out hunting or something.

A gun-range flashed beneath, attached to the back of a shed with a few cars parked outside. Jet banked around again, rolling into a sharp over the top of a ridge to run down the neighbouring valley. As she turned, something caught her eye... almost like a shadow crossing the ridge.

No... it was a line of fallen trees... climbing up from the valley beneath her across the top of a sixty-metre ridge. She followed it with her eyes as she turned... it reached towards Joe Ward Fork, picking its route carefully.

There was only one thing she could think of that'd make that line. It was the hardest thing for her to do, to stick to her search pattern. Half her body wanted to just chase along it... but she had to stick to the pattern.

It was down here... that was the main thing. It was in the area.

Another track, this time more wandering. She could see it cross over itself, before chasing along a valley floor. It crossed a stony track. Jet smirked as she saw pawprints crossing the road. A thrill of excitement ran through her frame... it was practically within spitting distance.

Reaching the end of her run, she banked and turned North once more, angling for the Fork road. She chased it across the stream, following a dirt track that'd been churned up recently. The valley forked and she banked right, chasing the road.

At the end... a picnic area.

"Shit!" she spat, pulling herself up, gaining altitude to drop her overland speed. Up above the clouds, she wheeled over, aiming for the left fork of the valley. She'd run down that heading South... then carry on. Another line of broken trees snaked down into the valley below, aiming for a yard.

Jet flew along the ridge line, focusing in on the yard. She had less than a second to take it in. First, what looked like belching blue oil smoke. Next, an office block, the door open and someone being pushed outside. A catgirl... Jet realised sickeningly, the man behind her had a gun to her back. At the entrance was a trailer, surrounded on four sides by what looked to be old cars welded to some sort of framework, the exact same size as the crop markings. On it, was a quadruped, covered in in a tarpaulin sheet.

Jet saw a flash of yellow paint. Arching her back, she pitched up vertically into the clouds, roaring out of sight of the ground. Jet swallowed bile.

"Fuck me not a catgirl machine too,"

She felt sick for a moment. Twenty-five missing people, how many of them had gone through it? Thank Christ I've already been biomodded, she thought to herself.

She flagged the point on her onboard GPS. 37° 40' 17.94", -83° 17' 43.38

Catgirl machine. She felt a chills run through her body as she climbed above a thousand meters. One last high speed pass to confirm. She looped over in the air, lighting her boot thrusters once more. Like a bullet, she shot forward, the sound barrier shattering in front of her. It felt like punching through a sheet of paper.

For a brief instant she saw the yard again... at the end of an overgrown dirt track. The catgirl was looking up. The Zoid was still there, parked on its trailer. That had to be it.

Jet broke through the clouds again before anyone on the ground could hear her sonic boom. She banked North hard, kicking herself forward to her top speed, making a beeline for Fenchburg. She could feel the shockwaves spilling off her body. They tickled her fingertips, and started to heat her chest, shoulders and wingtips.

It was like flying through an oven.

Sixty kilometres back to Frenchburg. Her top speed was somewhere just shy of 1400. About three minutes flight time. The longest three minutes of her life almost. A couple of kilometres outside Fenchburg, she cut her engines, letting gravity and drag take over.

Friction burned at her shoulders and forearms as she pitched up, increasing her surface area as she fell. Below 200kph, aiming for a point she used her own engines to brake down to a gentle landing in the car park.

Alex watched her come down.

"Wow," the kid breathed. "I wanna be a flying person too! Do you have any handywave,"

Jet blinked, "What? No!" she lied. "And your ma'd kill me,"

"Aw please. I wanna be able to fly like you. That was so awesome what you did and..."

Jet locked the kid outside, pulling her room door shut behind her. If ever there was a recipe for disaster, it's a single-digit kid with access to handwavium. Jet found the vial she'd brought with her, and hid it carefully... somewhere far out of reach of even the most inquisitive eight year old.

The kid knocked. Jet ignored. She took her helmet off and put it on the still unslept-in bed, checked the messages on her pad. BlackRider was arriving at 01:00am local time, or thereabouts. Nothing telling her to stop.

Mentally, she selected the frequency of the comm she'd given Ruth, applied the correct encryptions. Snapping out her wings, she adjested the two antennae on her back slightly. It'dve been best to do this outdoors...however Alex was still lurking and the signal attenuation inside a wood-framed building wouldn't be too bad.

"Deputy, Deputy, this is Jet. Do you read?"

She waited for an answer.

---->>

Ruth sighed. Governor Paule T Frite was going to have a -cow- when he heard the news.

It appeared she was expected at his office as she was waved right through to his office, the secretary not even looking up from his Facebook.

Inside his office, Governor Frite sat framed by the US flag and the State flag, behind a desk loaded with papers. He looked up from them as she entered.

"Deputy Ruth... Not good news I take it?

"No sir," she shook her head, laying the folder out on the desk in front him, "This isn't just robberies sir, well..." the short explanation "...we've had a lot of missing people in the area which we didn't follow up because...well... that's policy when handwavium's involved."

His gaze darkened "I know, that was my decision." The unasked but still obvious question being ‘why are you bringing this to me?'

"I think there's a correlation. This is more than just some armed robberies. I..." she swallowed a lump, "I think there's a possibility that those responsible for the thefts, may be responsible for the disappearances."

Frite opened the folder to a copied map, disappearances highlighted in the area around Menifee, Wolfe, Powel, Breathitt and [Nearby County] county's.

"You see sir, they're all clustered around the robberies. "

The Governor grimaced, closing his eyes for a moment, before opening them to stare right through Ruth. His grey-eyes gaze gave her chills.

"Bastards," he said. "I want these people nailed to the wall. What have you got on them?"

"We've got a search area... marked on the map," she pointed to it. "Our guest is flying over the area as we speak. She sent a message to her superior outlining the situation,"

"I know. I've already been contacted. Fenspace has offered to help."

"And..."

"I've told them already. I don't want to drag my State into this war they've got going. I can't have them fighting on our land, with my apparent approval... it'd be political suicide."

"But sir.." Ruth started to protest. Fen would have more experience handling crimes like this, she wanted to say.

"No buts." he shot her down, "I'm the Governor. They were kind enough to warn us of the problem, but this is our jurisdiction, and our problem to solve." A shiver in his voice, he was biting back on his anger. "They are our people who have been taken. These bastards are criminals and terrorists in my State, and they will be arrested, tried, convicted and imprisoned by the people they've attacked."

"And our contact? She's expecting a piece of equipment from Fenspace capable of neutralising the cat."

"She's in." he answered. "The only other options for taking it out would be to call in the Army National Guard, or make a request to the Air Force for assistance. If she can take it out without having to use heavy ordinance, then she's welcome."

Ruth was about the speak, when the watch on her wrist started to beep. A voice tickled her ear.

"Deputy, Deputy, this is Jet. Do you read?"

"Ah... " she flushed, a little embarrassed.

"Phone Call?" questioned Frite.

"Sort of. It's Jet. I might have to take this.... it'll be important,"

The governor nodded. He only heard half the conversation.

"Jet Jet, I hear you loud and clear. I'm in the Governors office. Over."

A claim.

"You found them?"

A correction

"At least that's the main thing. Where were they"

A slow, deliberate answer.

"Got it. 37° 40' 17.94", -83° 17' 43.38." she repeated. It appeared on her watchs display as she spoke.

"When are you expecting your...uh.. equipment?" Had Jet actually told her what it is called?

Another answer.

"Right, twelve hours. And how are they getting it here?"

An explanation.

"What?" Ruth stuttered in disbelief for a moment. "Alright." she glanced over to the Governor, "I'm going to have to end. I'm in the middle of a meeting. Over and out,"

She cut the channel.

"Well? questioned Frite, raising an eyebrow.

"We've found them," she stated, smirking. "At least, we've found where they're storing the cat,"

"Good. How soon can you take them down?"

"Our contact should be ready in thirteen hours." she said.

Frite nodded. "On my authority, those responsible are to be arrested tonight. All possible law enforcement forces will be brought to bear. I've already ordered the Special Response Team to be ready. Sheriff Gally Ruth, you're to be my liaison between our Contact and the State Police."

Sheriff? "Yessir,"

"Make sure she understands that she's to stay out of their way. She's a guest in our jurisdiction, she has no authority or power here. Once the Cat has been taken down, it is the SRT's mission to arrest those responsible. Understand?"

"Yessir"

"Good. Make sure she understands it as well. And good work Sheriff"

"Thank you sir,"

Gally found herself smiling as she left the governors office.

---->>
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#7
A little more.

Quote:>>From: Juliette2@grunthall.fen
>>To: alitagally@grunthall.fen
>>CC:
>>Subject: Kentucky Cat [Development]

>>The cat has been found, at a local yard. Coord's 37° 40' 17.94", -83° 17' 43.38. It's stored in
>>the open. They also have some sort of lifting frame for it, manufactured using 4 handwaved
>>saloon cars welded together. No sign of the other vehicles, or their home base.

>>Disturbingly, I can confirm the presence of at least one catgirl. Either she's been brought
>>down from space somehow, or they have a catgirling machine onsite.. If there's even a
>>chance of a catgirling machine being present, we've got to go in and shut it down. This may
>>give us a lead on the missing persons. Hopefully there's something salvageable of them.

>>Deputy Ruth is still meeting with the Governor. She should return inside the hour with his
>>orders.

>>-JJ

The television spoke to itself in the corner as Jet worked.

"Is it time the Unites States Government intervened in this space war? Can we really risk the possibility of a failed state aligned with terrorists in orbit above us, capable of raining down death from above on our cities with impunity? These people are more than capable of moving asteroids many times larger than the one which annihilated the dinosaurs into Earth orbit, just above our heads, it's only a short nudge from there to drop them on our planet and destroy life as we know it.

These armed robberies in the great State of Kentucky are only the beginning, a filtering down of terror from above that threatens an even greater security risk to this great nation of freedom and democracy. They are the trickle before a torrent of fear and violence that will overcome this country if the Government does not act now to curb this menace in orbit.

Never mind the dangers of this handwavium, a biological weapon of terrifying potency. One need only look at the unholy results of biomodification performed freely and without censure. Can you imagine your son, who may be a high-school quarterback on the high school's honor roll, becoming a cat girl, nothing more than a willing sex slave for all who would use him? Or your daughter dressing up like a fetish-sailor in a say-f(beep)k-you skirt based on Japanese tentacle porn ‘cartoons', for the obscene pleasure and service of interplanetary perverts and paedophiles.

Consider that handwavium can turn an ordinary car's engine into a space-drive capable of travelling faster than the speed of sound. Now imagine what would happen if this was applied to even the smallest amount of explosive. The city fathers of Hiroshima and Nagasaki don't have to imagine. A bomb of such terrible power detonated at the base of the new World Trade Center, millions could die in an attack that would make 9/11 look like a flash in the pan. I don't need to remind you of the images of that dreadful day in which thousands of decent, hardworking Americans were brutally murdered.

The immoral and unchristian acts of these people represent a clear and present danger to the security of this great nation and all right-thinking Americans. Those who would act to support the creation of a state in orbit are little more than traitors before this great nation and should be treated as such.

In order to ensure our future security, we must secure the high ground that is orbital space, and if that means intervening in this war in orbit, and bringing civilising American values to them, then so be it. If we don't we risk being the innocent child caught in the crossfire of a brutal gang war.

I'm Tom Foutaise, and that's my two cents."

Jet felt her brain break. He was going to have fun when this came out, that was for sure. She changed the channel. NASCAR would have to do... even if it was just motorball without the rugby or UFC elements, the engines sounded good.

Jet was busy working with her pistol, a .357 Magnum Desert Eagle. Otherwise known as Mary-Sue's handcannon, the usual standard advice being that if you needed something as powerful as an Eagle, you'd be better served by a proper rifle. The problem with that was, Jet couldn't fire a rifle and fly... she could fire a pistol.

It was just a standard production model, with a vacuum modified barrel and gas chamber. Not one trace of handwavium in it, it came direct from the Magnum Research themselves. Finished in a corrosion resistant nickel, the barrel was lengthened to give time for the gases to operate the pistol's action. The gas port, gas piston and chamber diameter had been refined for use in an airless environment and the springs had been softened a little. Otherwise it was the same as the ‘danelaw models and could be returned to standard with just a few minutes swap over of barrel, piston and spring.

Jet liked it. The sheer mass of metal meant it didn't overheat as quickly in vacuum as an ordinary pistol, especially with the reflective nickel plating. It was a good trade off between a more common revolver, and some of the newer handwaved electromagnetic weaponry. It was accurate enough, the barrel being mounted solidly to the frame, though didn't have the mechanical reliability of revolvers since the gas action had a tendency to get clogged. However, unlike a more powerful railgun, with no handwavium at all in it it was quirk free. Nine cartridges and a quickly loaded magazine were better than a more popular six-shooter revolver. Steel-core magnum rounds could generally be counted on to make a mess of someone when they hit, body armour or no body armour. The sheer mass and recoil of the thing was a non-issue for someone with their own onboard engines and power-assisted limbs.

That... and while people familiar with firearms might mock... there was something bloody intimidating about a cyborg armed with a shining nickle ten-inch barreled Desert Eagle, effortlessly firing it one handed that Jet appreciated. It meant she had to actually use it less often, than would otherwise be the case.

Well, pointing a gun at someone with your finger on the trigger is a declaration of intent to kill them unless they stop what they're right frackin' now. That declaration tended to be heard a little better when it was made with a shining handcannon with a barrel big enough to stick a finger in, than your average .45, 9mm or disco gun. The way Jet figured it, if it made them more likely to put their hands up, it made it less likely she'd actually have to follow through on that declaration.

She finished and checked and saw that it was good.

Then remembered she wouldn't be able to carry it if she was going to be using some sort of stun gun on the Cat.

"Well, that was a waste of time," she said to no-one in particular.

Ruth was still in the Governor's office, while Jet was waiting for a response.

>>From: alitagally@grunthall.fen
>>To: Juliette2@grunthall.fen
>>Subject: RE: Kentucky Cat [Development]

>>Governor Frite has rejected an offer of assistance from the JLI. He wishes to treat these
>>people as criminals under State Law. Liaise with local forces and provide any assistance
>>requested. If they ask you to stay out, then stay out. However Frite has been advised that
>>you are capable of taking down the Cat, and indications are that he would prefer to have you
>>do it, rather than make a call to the National Guard.

>>He wants this to be handled as a criminal investigation, rather than drawing his State
>>politically into a ‘war'. Deniability is still a priority. The fewer people who know you are there,
>>the better.

>>The political fallout if you are discovered by the media would be disastrous, both for local
>>Government and for Fenspace. We cannot have the appearance that we are fighting a war in
>>their back yard, with their tacit approval. It could be enough to draw the American government
>>into things up here and that's something nobody wants. The current admin' isn't as batshit
>>stupid as the last, but don't give it reason to act. There're still plenty of hawks down there in
>>the President's cabinet who think we're a threat, being seen to be fighting a war on US soil
>>might give POTUS a reason to listen to them.

>>The governor's office will be contacted with regard to handling catgirl victims shortly. Be sure
>>that local forces understand that catgirls are likely to be victims, and should be treated as
>>such.

>> If a catgirl machine is discovered, destroy it. Do not allow it to fall into ‘danelaw hands.

>>Finally Black Rider has finished his stunner device. He should arrive at your location some
>>time around 2am local time. Expect to be contacted.

>>Good luck Jet.
>>-Alita

"Politics, why did it have to be politics," murmured Jet, resting her head in her hands. It was a headache wrapped in a migraine wrapped in an aneurysm waiting to happen.Well, at least that was somebody elses problem. SMoF's, BNF's and whoever the hell normally handled that sort of crap... they could have it.Jet knew herself that if all these disappearances and catgirlings had been known about before her arrival, this would've been an OF-8 Krieger job for sure.

There was nothing that could be done about that now.

She thought about going for a quick spin to relax herself, but decided against it. This wasn't the time, and she had to conserve her batteries. She ordered Pizza instead from a nearby place, and had them leave it at the door.

She added some handwavium to it before eating, then got back to work planning a high speed mid-air rendezvous... and a quick getaway weekend with Sierra on Venus. The last one back in January had been...well... ruined.

Jet switched channels on the TV, clicking past a few gameshows... one of which offered a martian cruise as a prize, and a Micheal Moore film blaming the fenspace exodus and the ongoing war on American corporate malfeasance. Exxon tankers attacked by Boskone. OGJ moves to defend by calling a ‘war on crime', with the obvious links made to America's successive War on X's, and their success rate. There was plenty of shouting at an empty corridor somewhere in Stellvia's hotel, demanding an interview with Noah Scott from a hotel door that he claimed was his office, intercut with footage of Crystal Osaka on fire before it fell, fading to the image of the WTC.

She clicked back to America's got Talent. It was one of the few programs not pushing a political agenda... except for the occasional ad's from ‘Air Cav veterans of Vietnam against Jackson,'. CBS news was informative, the story on the Cat robberies and the ongoing investigation being well enough researched. They understood the difference between Fenspace and the Boskonians... which was the main thing. It was worrying though, even before the truth came out it was making national news.

There were reports on the Boskone war, focusing mostly on American citizens in orbit. The correspondent was in Greenwood City park. Belisarius featured, as a strong symbol of the American Fen gaining control.

The overall tone of the report was that things were getting better for the Fen.

That made Jet smile. The knock on her door, when it came, startled her badly.

"Jet, it's Ruth,"

Jet answered the door looking oddly tired

"You alright Jet?".

"Yeah, just a little tired. I'll get some sleep when we're done," she said. "How'd it go with the guv'nor?"

"He turned down fen side help besides you. He wants you to handle the cat and any handwaved weapons, but while keeping a low profile."

"Yeah... I just got told as much. Why don't you come inside? I think there's still some pizza left," the gynoid smiled.

Ruth nodded and stepped inside. "I've eaten already."

"Ah..." Jet sat at her desk, checking her pad. "That weapon I'm waiting on is being dropped off at 2am. When's the Governor want to hit the place?"

"As soon as we can, I've got contact lists for the team being sent in. They have already moved into the area and are laying low."

"Grand," nodded Jet, before her expression darkened. "We have another problem though. Do you know what a catgirl is?"

Jet assumed she didn't... at least that she didn't know what it meant in this context.

Ruth raised a eyebrow, "By your tone you don't mean an accident do you."

"No. Not an accident. One thing the Bosco's do to prisoners is..." how to explain this.. "They have these devices we call catgirling machines," and Jet was half disgusted to even say it. "What they do... basically..." a deep breath.. "Is they take any ordinary human being, and they use their body to create a catgirl-shaped sex slave, to be sold god-knows where to god-knows-what son of a fucking bitch. It's automated... and some models completely erase the victims memory, though some prefer it when they aren't blanked." A pause. "It's pretty fucked up. The thing is, I saw one at the yard with the zoid. This... might be what happened to the missing people. And if they have a catgirling machine down here, I've standing orders to destroy it."

Ruth winced, "That's nasty to do to someone. As for if they have a machine, don't know what I can do, but I'll see what I can do."

Jet fixed her with a deadly cold stare, "I need you to make them understand, the catgirls are not enemies, they are victims. They'll be panicky, and most likely if they haven't been blanked, they'll have been raped or worse."

Ruth nodded, "I'll tell them that, they are trained to handle panicked hostages."

Jet smiled gratefully, "Thanks. I'd also like to advise you ask for help from Fenspace for dealing with them. We've... more experience with counselling them, and at least giving them the chance of a normal life. The best you would have here would be someone... experience with counselling rape victims,"

"I'll see what I can do."

Jet closed her eyes, sighing, "Grand so," A deep breath, "I'm told you're handling this as a crime, rather than as terrorism. What does that mean for taking these people down, or getting a chance to question them?"

"Depends on how they go in, if they treat it a hostage event that may mean a lot of dead crooks."

"That's bad for us. We need to find where their second base is, and who they're working for in space. And I don't know how US law handles forced biomods. In Fenspace, catgirl-makers are treated as murderers by some factions."

"Forced biomod's is going to be one for the Supreme Court. There's no specific law against it... unfortunately." She paused to think, "That'll change alright, but it won't apply to these folks. It might come under aggravated battery, with a very long sentence. Not to mentioned multiple counts of armed robbery, malicious property destruction and the possibility of aggravated kidnapping too. The State's all but guaranteed to seek the death penalty for that if they don't plead guilty."

Jet winced a little.

"Oh, and the handwavium violations. Importing or even using that stuff without a permit is a federal crime..." a pause. A painful realisation. "... which brings the FBI in to it."

"That's a bloody mess,"

"It's for the lawyers to sort out. And they're going to do everything they can to stay away from Squirty Gertie."

She spoke like lethal injection was their one true deserved reward that they were trying to weasel out of. Jet just nodded, not wanting to get into that sort of debate again.

"So what do when know about the guy who owned the yard?" She switched the subject.

"Uh," Ruth's mind blanked, before she checked the notes on the map. "Stae "Steve" Nor, a native of Mountain Valley. Male, Caucasian, about 29 years old. He owned...owns," she corrected herself, "the salvage yard for the last ten years or so. He disappeared shortly before the first sightings. We searched his yard, found it abandoned with handwavium left behind, and assumed he'd launched into orbit, so dropped the case."

"Either he's behind all this," Jet said, "Or he's that catgirl I saw,"

"No criminal record, it's unlikely he's involved willingly." A thought, She ran her hand through her hair. "Look, I'm going to head on out, try and talk to some of the people who knew him. He kept to himself, but who knows. The department's already pouring over missing person's files from the last year."

"Right. I've got to organise a mid-air rendezvous," Jet suppressed a yawn, "And maybe get a couple of hours sleep. What time are these guys looking at moving in on the camp at?"

"3am, or thereabouts,"

"Rendezvous is at 2. That won't be a problem. I guess I'll see you later tonight then,"

"Yup later Jet,"

Ruth locked the door behind her as she left.

---->>

Afternoon on day 3

Ruth pulled the van up outside a small single wide trailer set on a plain, but what once used to be a well kept lawn. Now, the grass came near to reaching halfway to her knees. She eyed the mobile home from inside her van.

"Nobody's been here for months." Ruth sighed, before opening the door.

Stae's friends and co-workers she'd managed to talk to had told her that he had been working on something for the last few years... they assumed some sort of hot-rod, but Stae'd never told them what.

In the months up to his disappearance, he'd spent more and more time at his yard working. With a bit of luck, there had be a clue to what he was doing there in that trailer. She waded through the grass up to the front door. She had the key from the earlier investigation, so she unlocked it, pulling it open.

The smell of rotting food hit her first, mixed with an aroma of dampness and mildew. It'd been abandoned since the original detective had opened the door and found the first few cans of handwavium... then dropped the case assuming a fen-launch. Since Stae'd been assumed to be alive... his property hadn't been touched because of the Fourth Amendment. It was abandoned property, but it was still his abandoned property to sell to someone at a future date... the government had no legal right to poke around in it.

So it was left to rot and rust.

She pushed into the trailer, reminding herself of the revolver in the holster on her hip, just in case. It was clear though that, whatever'd happened to Stae... hadn't been planned. The dishes in the sink were coated in mold, not having been washed.

A hot-rod magazine was left on a table, beside a cup of what she guessed might once have been coffee. It had grown fur.

She should've brought a dustmask, she thought.

The fridge clicked on. She didn't dare open it. Pushing towards the back of the trailer, she passed the bathroom... still with a towel on the floor, before reaching the bedroom at the end. Cautiously, she cracked open the door.

Inside, an unmade bed. The alarm clock on the table still glowed. Beside it on a nightstand was an empty glass, and a book face down, that had been left open at a page. Everything here showed signs of someone intending to come back... not a Fen launch.

How goddamned stupid and lazy had the original detective been not to follow this up?

She turned around. And the shelve's behind her were a bunch of small quadruped models... little plastic toys. One of which was yellow.. and tiger shaped. According to the stand it was on, a Zaber Fang.

"Well, I think we found our builder," she said. "But where?"

The Junkyard? No, that was a place of business, nothing more. A customer would've seen it. Besides, it'd been chained up and closed before the original investigation. She took a few photographs of the models, before snapping on a pair of latex gloves. She bagged them carefully as potential evidence.

Moving back out of the room, something moving in the corner of her eye. Reaching for her gun, she snapped around to face it, feeling a sudden rush of adrenaline shock her body. Nothing.. but a curtain flapping in front of an open window.

She moved the curtain out of the way to close it... and saw through the window, an old, overgrown track leading back through the forest.

"You fraggin' idiots," she sighed to herself, cooling off. Somebody was going to get fired for this screw up. Something like that just couldn't be ignored.

She stored the toys in her Ford and fetched the shotgun from the trunk and loaded it with live shot-shells. She wasn't going to trust her life to beanbags when facing folks with a mecha cat on their side. Carefully, she made her way around the back of the trailer.

Nothing but track and forest.

Her shoes crunched on the gravel path as she walked slowly along it, nervously scanning the treeline. She could hear gunshots cracking from the range nearby, echoing off the hillside like a distant war.

She came across a fallen tree across the path. It looked to have been snapped as easily as she'd snap a match between her fingers. Ruth could see that it was just at the head of a very long queue which cut through the forest.

She swallowed a nervous lump in her throat. It was a path almost big enough to drive a semi through. On the road at her feet were the same tracks that had been found at the banks. The same square pads, the same three claws. Each had a small puddle of muddy water sitting in it from the storm last night.

At the end of the road, in a clearing she found a wooden barn, run down and dilapidated, the paint having long faded and peeled. It was surrounded by varying pieces of junk. A rusting crane hung it's jib over a collapsed scaffold. it seemed as if whatever the scaffold had surrounded, had burst free.

She clutched her shotgun tightly as she crossed the yard to the barn. Edging towards the door, she listened for any signs of life inside.

She heard nothing but the creaking of the wood, and rustle of leaves in the breeze. She kicked the door open. It fell off it's hinges instead, crashing to the ground with a hollow thump. Her finger tightened around the gun's trigger for an instant, the cop expecting anything for an instant.

Again however... nothing.

Except for a god-awful smell, like sticking her face into a broken septic tank. It was the stink of decay, of death. Her stomach retched before she ducked outside into the fresh air. She zipped up her coat, using her collar to cover her mouth and nose. Shouldering her shotgun, Ruth unclipped her maglite from her belt.

She dived back into the smell, barely covered by her own body and deoderant.

Her torchlight glinted of tins of yellow paint, one of which had fallen over and spilled on the ground. On them, scribbled with a sharpie was the word "WAVIUM!!" Beside it, what appeared to be empty oxy-acetylene tanks. There was shelving, and an obvious place to store some tools.... but no tools stored there. In the back was the rusting hulk of an old tractor that'd been ripped apart, the torn apart remains of at least three electric motors, mixed with an assortment of copper cabling, and power equipment that she just couldn't identify.

Her beam caught a flash of something moving quickly along a wall. A black rat. How disgusting. She tracked it with her torch.

And found the source of the smell.

Her missing person's case had just become a murder case. In the corner, was clearly a human body, bloating and off colour as decay took hold.

With a very obvious gunshot wound to they head, delivered like a coup de grace.

She got out of there before she threw up. The conclusion was immediately obvious. He'd built something, handwaved it, and then somebody'd come along and killed him for it. They had about twenty minutes before the media got a hold of this

Resting against the barn wall, she took a few deep breaths to steady herself before picking up her pocket radio.

"Dispatch, this is Sherrif Gally Ruth, I've got a dead body in Mountain Valley. Just off of State route 378" she radioed in. "It's the missing person's case. Stae Nor." a pause, "I need media silence on this," she added. "it may jeopardise an ongoing investigation"

"Roger that. Ambulance and County Coroner will be arriving shortly."

"Also, kick that lazy Detective Henderson in the ass for me, for not finding this weeks ago."

We might never have even had these robberies if he hadn't just seen a can of ‘wavium and shrugged his shoulders.

"Will do,"

She took a deep breath and stepped back inside the barn. There was one last thing to do. Putting fears of biomods to the back of her mind... remembering Jet's words about needing a tank of this stuff to get a mod... she probed at the open can of handwavium paint. It was dry and solid.

She chipped a few small shards of it into a sample bag. Just to confirm Stae'd built the Cat using the taster back at the hotel.

That'd be a couple of hours at least. The State's homicide division took time to swing into gear. And when they got here in their trucks and cars, all flashing lights and commotion, they'd announce to the criminals that the police were on to them, the perpetrators would go to ground, and they might well lose any chance of catching them.

Screw it.

"Dispatch, this is Ruth out at Mountain Valley. Be advised that we need to keep this quiet until tomorrow morning.

"Say again,"

"I said no marked cars or emergency vehicles. The body will stay where it is until tomorrow. Cancel the coroner and the ambulance. We have to leave it overnight,"

"That's against proceedure!"

"I know," Ruth shot him down, "But we have to wait until morning. It'll be clear why tomorrow,"

"Alright," the dispatcher relented, "But you owe me,"

Ruth sighed once more. Stae'd been waiting a couple of weeks to be found. He could wait another twelve hours or so.

Instead, she hurried back to Little Watch.

---->>
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#8
And more.

Deputy Ruth is now State Trooper Ruth. And on the Google Doc, a few changes have been made to Ruth's briefing with the Governor.

Featuring Ben and Gina courtesy of BA.

Quote:---->>

Four hours later, and the sun had gone down. Half asleep herself, Ruth pulled up outside the Little Watch. Jet’s light’s weren’t on. She’s either out, or she’s asleep, Ruth figured, before knocking on the door.

“It’s open,” came the answer, clear as a bell.

She opened the door to see Jet standing beside the chair she usually slept on. That still seemed weird.

“Sleep well?”

Ruth couldn’t help herself but look at the still freshly made bed.

“More or less,” smiled the cyborg, feigning a yawn. “It’s not good news, is it,”

Ruth closed the door behind her, “I found Mister Nor,” she said. “He built the Cat.”

“Oh, where is he?”

“Dead.” she said, “I found him murdered in a barn behind his trailer,”

“Shit,” Jet swore under her breath.

“We’re trying to keep it quiet until tomorrow, but a murder’s not going to stay quiet for long,”

Jet took a breath, “And that just make things worse when it comes out,”

“It means we’ve got them on murder one too, if the forensics line up. Speaking of which,” she pulled a bag full of yellow shards out, “That taster of yours still work? I think I found some of Stae’s handwavium.”

“It’s still on the table,” Jet indicated towards the device, being used as a paperweight. “You might want to wash it first though, I’ve touched it.”

“I see,” the trooper nodded,

She washed it in the bathroom sink, before getting to work with the samples.

“So Jet,” she made conversation, “What were you like, before you got modded... if you don’t mind me askin,”

“No, it’s okay.” the cyborg took a deep breath, “Well firstly, I was a man,” Ruth blinked. “As tall as I am now, with a nice beard, an engineering degree and not much else to tell,”

“Oh... ordinary then?”

“Disappointed?”

“Not really. Just curious, I guess. So you’re what, a woman now,”

“No,” Jet shook her head with a rueful smile, “And yes, I do know what it says on my ID. I just got sick of the Agent Smith’s of the world correcting me when I ticked the M box,”

“I can imagine,” Ruth just looked a little nervous. The taster gave a insane Frankenstein laugh. ”Yellow; Fair. Red; Tidal. Magenta; Heavy. Blue; Choppy. Cyan; Stormy. Green; Becalmed.” she read the display. “And that just proves it.”

“It’s the same,” Jet stated the obvious.

“There’re two fresh cans of that stuff in the barn, that I didn’t dare touch.,”

“Well that’s evidence if the courts down here will accept it. It is in Fenspace,”

“I honestly don’t know,” Ruth said, after a moment’s thought. “But the more accurate, the better.”

“You can get a better detector that’ll actually give percentages if you contact the Blue Blazers. They’d be more than happy to help out law enforcement. I only brought that one because it’s small.”

“Ah. That can wait until we have them in custody. We’re still waiting on an arrest warrant to come through, but we’ve got enough probably cause for a handwavium crime. The priority is stopping them, but once we got ‘em behind bars the investigation can get into full swing.”

“I don’t know your legal system anyway, just that it’s complicated.” She paused for a second, “And because there’s a murder involved, that’s definitely the death penalty for them,”

“Barring any plea-bargains, or one of them turning State’s witness in exchange for a lighter sentence....if they take it to a full jury trial, I can see the State prosecutor pushing for death, and getting it too.”

Jet looked sourly at her. “To be honest, I’d rather they spent the rest of their days in a two by three concrete cell with only a bed, a toilet, a sink and their own gnawing guilt for company,”

“Well, I for one would feel better with them cold in the ground,” Ruth affirmed with a grunt. “How do Fen deal with ‘em?”

“Azkhaban.” Jet answered quickly, “Or we just turn them over to mundane authorities.”

“No death penalty?”

“Depends on your faction,” the cyborg shrugged, “The colonials like to summarily airlock catgirlers for one thing. And well...” she looked away out the window for a moment “... it’s a war, and passions do run a little high from time to time.”

Jet stared at her armoured hand, flexing her fingers.

“You ever...?”

“That isn’t blank ammunition in my pistol.” the gynoid stated. “And yourself?”

“My revolver’s loaded too,” Ruth answered quickly. “Which reminds me, when we take down this base, remember that you’re a guest in this State. Don’t go actin’ like some cowboy cop,” she warned, her gaze turning deadly serious, “You’re just a civilian here so leave the shooting to us, just concentrate on taking down the Cat.”

“Right.” A moment, “And if they shoot at me?”

“Self defence,” the cop shrugged, “Just don’t start shooting at them first. It’s our State, and our job to deal with them.,”

The gynoid blew out a long sigh, “It’s a bloody political mess if I hurt any of them, even if it is self defense. Fen agent murders American Citizen in Kentucky.”

“As opposed to Fen murder and kidnap twenty-five American citizens in Kentucky, use a giant robot Cat to rob banks, and mutilate innocent people into catgirl sex slaves.”

“Good point. Either way, this is fucked up.”

“Yup,” the Trooper nodded, tidying up her samples. “Well anyway, I’m gonna go report this. You’ll get details of the operation when they’re ready. I’ll probably see you again tonight,”

“Right, right.... tonight.”

---->>

02:00 am.

High above the Earth, the Magnificent Midnight drifted serenely in orbit... much to the Blackbird's annoyance. She wanted nothing more than to scream through the stars at maximum burn, but Benjamin had work to do here. Instead, she contented herself with the though that she would soon be tearing through the atmosphere of her old home once more. A signal came, and Midnight routed it to Gina. "Ben, we got a signal from air traffic control. They've approved our run."

"Gotcha. Midnight, you know what to do, girl."

Do I ever!, thought the Blackbird to herself as she pitched downward and fired her engines.

Jet was waiting for the go code from above. She stood on the hotel roof, scanning the night sky, looking for any sign of the approaching spacecraft. Grovers had set and the moon was rising high. A ‘danish airliner plodded across the sky.

Meanwhile, Gina got on the radio. "This is Magnificent Midnight, registry code 36ATL-BB00, calling for Jet Jaguar."

"This is Jet Jaguar, I hear you loud and clear ," the cyborg responded. Jet put her helmet on, running through the previously agreed plan in her mind. This was going to be.... interesting "I'm ready when you are, over,"

"Good to hear you, Jet. We're coming in hot with that package and we're set up to meet up with you. ETA in about five minutes."

"Copy. GPS coordinates and altitude?"

"We'll be about 3,000 meters. Don't worry about the coordinates. We'll be in the general area and you won't be able to miss us."

"Copy, see you in five," Jet takes off with a rush, audible over the radio

"He's on his way, Ben!" Gina called back. Jet would’ve smiled if she’d heard that... Gina was the first person in two years to get the pronouns right. Even Jet’d given up.

"Great!" Benjamin then tured to his iPod and played the song that he had cued up. Right away, the sounds of Depesche Mode's _Photographic_ filled the cabin. "Okay girl. Just like we talked about: I need intel on the general area groundside. Go to it."

Midnight chirped happily and ports in the nose opened up, revealing several camera lenses that began to capture high-definition digital footage in enhanced light, thermal, and radar. the images were all recorded to a high-capacity USB Flash Drive.

Below, the cyborg rushed up in a high speed climb, pushing her own engines as hard as she could. It took her less than a minute to reach altitude, before she settled into a waiting cruise, taking a look around with her radar. There she was...hard to miss and coming in fast.

"This is Jet Jaguar.” she broadcast, “I'm at altitude and waiting. I can see you on my radar,"

"Okay, Ben, we're at 10,000 feet," said Gina. "You ready up there?"

"All set. Taking manual control now." Ben tapped an icon on one of the touch-sensitive display panels that replaced much of the original instrumentation and took a firm hold of the flight stick. "Okay, Jet," he murmured as he began to make a wide circle over the area. "Where are ya, buddy?"

"South of Frenchburg, Heading Southeast. towards Campton” the cyborg answered

"Gotcha!" said Ben as Gina popped the tags up on the navigational display. He changed course and began to slow from mach 3 to a leisurely 480 km/h.

Jet looked behind her at the decelerating aircraft, before offering up a prayer to whatever God was listening that they could see her. She pushed herself forward, matching speeds

"Jet, this is Midnight," came Gina's voice over the radio. "We see you on the radar. Approach from high and behind, and watch out for the jet-wash. We're opening the top-side hatch for you."

"Copy that."... Privately, she murmured to herself, "Jetwash? This is going to be fun." She pitched gaining thirty meters or so at the expense of some speed. She hung in the air, waiting for the Midnight to pass beneath

The Midnight flew by below her, moving like a graceful black dagger given wings. As it did so, the hatch just behind the second seat opened up and a set of hand rails were extended.

"Cool," she said to herself. A Blackbird from above was an impressive sight. "Alright, here I come,"

Jet pushed forward once more, aiming for the hatch. Using the jets in her feet she held herself up and high above the aircraft's twin tails, before angling down. Getting caught up in turbulence and going through a rudder would ruin everyone’s day. Ben’d assured her that the craft’s slipstream wasn’t terrible, but Jet couldn’t help but recall one of her earlier flights when she’d flown up to greet Iron Maiden's Flight 666 and almost went into an engine...

It was smoother than she expected. She came down about two meters behind the rails, matching her speed exactly. A few gentle adjustments with her wings and boots brought her into a good alignment.

Swallowing spit, there was just one last push to go. Jet kicked forward, her engines flaring for a few brief moments. At the last instant, she reached forward, grabbing one rail, then the other.

At this point, Benjamin returned control to Midnight, telling her to maintain course and speed as long as possible. Gina moved out and to the back towards the cargo bay, and Benjamin in pulled himself out of his seat so he could greet Jet.

Jet retracted her wings, before using her engines to push her legs forward against the airstream, until she could stand on the rails with reasonable safety. Now it was just a matter of climbing down into the lit space below, one rung at a time.

"Hey," she said, seeing Benjamin waiting for her, breathing a long sigh of relief. "That was fun,"

"First time we tried that in the soup," said Ben with a grin, eyes sparkling with mischief as the hatch closed up behnind Jet. "Benjamin Rhodes, commander of the Roughriders," he said, sticking his hand out for a shake. "Sorry it's cramped in here, but that's just how it is with a Blackbird.”

Jet looked uncomfortably around, never quite content in a spacecraft, before accepting the handshake. She was careful not to break bones. "Jet Jaguar, Geselle, Panzer Kunst Gruppe. I'm just glad I'm aboard."

"I know what you mean. Let's get you your package. Back this way, please." The interior was unremarkable - a soft layer of insulation along the walls, held in by a soft, cloth-like material, a deck made of metal grates where cables ran underneath, and the ceiling had simple fluorescent lights at regular intervals, keeping the space well-lit. It had a very finished look to it, with a small set of cabinets, microwave oven and a sink, and seats with a folding table forming a sort of eating area. Toward the back was what looking like a sleeping area with the beds folded up and out of the way. And there was the bulkhead, with a scuttle-style hatch set neatly in the middle.

"I'm not sure I'll fit through that," commented Jet... still looking uncomfortable as hell. "It's... roomier than I expected though," she offered with a smile, trying her best to be polite.

"No problem," said Gina, squeezing her tiny frame by with a cat-like ease and began spinning the hand-wheel on the hatch. She then turned and grinned as she opened the hatch. "I fit just fine." She then swung herself through the opening without any effort.

She looks familiar somehow, Jet thought... trying to remember from where she recognised her. Maybe they'd met on one of her courier runs, she figured.

"So, you either don't know or you're too polite to say anything." Said Ben pleasantly.

"Pretty much," Jet let him draw his own conclusions

"Well, don't mention Asuka or Evangelion to her. She was pretty freaked out about it when she awakened."

Jet's face looked like a lightbulb of realisation just popped on above her head.

"And absolutely do not touch her head. It's a personal space thing."

"I can imagine," Jet said, trying to recall Evangelion in her mind.

A moment later, a long, black plastic case appeared through the open hatch and Ben took it. Gina climbed out afterwards, closing the hatch behind her as Ben folded down one of the beds and set the case on it, opening up the snaps.

"So that's it?" questioned Jet, "I can't carry a case while I'm flying. "

"Yep, this is it. Time for a briefing." Ben opened it to reveal something that looked like a hunting rifle, butt-stalk, aiming sight, barrel and all. Except beside it, there were three objects that looked like harpoons without the line. "This is the Stunner. If it looks like a hunting rifle, that's because it is. I modified it to fire these bad boys," he says as he points at the harpoons.

"How heavy is it?" Jet asked, already trying to do the math in her mind. Could she actually carry this thing?

Benjamin picked up the rifle with ease, handing it to Jet. "Not much more than your average Weatherby."

Jet handled it... okay. It was obvious to Ben she wasn’t from a shooting background, but she had enough sense to keep her finger away from the trigger and not wave it around. She placed the long rifle against her leg. "I might be able to strap it to my hip. Center of Gravity's a real problem for me though"

"It was a last minute idea," said Ben with a shrug. "Will a sling help?"

"If it doesn't get in the way of my wings it should be grand,"

Benjamin then reached down into one of the smaller panels inside the case and pulled out a strap, which he clipped to the fittings in the stalk and the barrel, before adjusting it to its maximum length. "Try that."

Jet put it over her shoulder, carefully checking to make sure the strap wouldn't interfere with her wings. Then she tested to be sure. Her wings swung into place with a sound like a rifle bolt locking home before retracting down just as quickly

She shrugged her shoulders a little, letting the weapon find a natural place. "Feels alright,"

"Great," said Benjamin with a smile. "On to your ammo." he then took out one of the harpoon like projectiles. "This is a stunner. I'm not entirely sure of the specifics since it was a blue hair moment for me."

"The dumkopf here is a part-time mad scientist," said Gina haughtily. "I honestly don't know how I deal with him."

"It's because you're madly in love with me, milady."

Jet smiled to herself, reminded a little of Sierra. "Looks like it'll do the job alright. In truth, I wasn't looking forward to taking it on bare handed,"

Gina grumbled dark things in German and Japanese and Ben smiled. "Well, it should work. the tips are wave-enhanced titanium-steel alloy, and it scrambles just about any electronic device within ten feet. As long as you get it close to whatever passes for a spinal nerve on this thing, then that should put it down."

Jet looked at him nervously, "Ten feet. I'll have to be careful then"

"That’s why it has the scope," said Ben matter-of-factlly. "Oh, and we have one more little present for you." Gina took that as a cue, marching off and pulling a USB flash-drive from her console, then coming back and giving it to Jet. "That has recent footage of the area you've been investigating in low-light enhanced, infrared, and radar scans."

"Brilliant!” she beamed “That'll make finding their home base so much easier. We might actually be able to get them all with this," Jet placed the memory stuck in a pouch strapped tightly to her hip

Benjamin nodded. "Now, loading. Simply take a Stunner and load it, ass-end first, through the muzzle. When it hits the limit, give it a quarter-turn clockwise and that'll lock it in so you can fire it. A quarter-turn counter-clockwise unlocks it so you can unload. It has it's own propelling charge and it's caseless, meaning that there's no cartridge to eject after it fires. Just load the next one. Finally, range is up to a thousand meters. That should let you hit it from enough distance to not be noticed right away."

"It's pretty heavily wooded down there anyway." Jet said, rifling through her memories of the yard "I can get a shot from a nearby ridge."

Benjamin nodded and Gina took over. "The Stunner goes active on impact and remains active for five minutes. Be careful that you don't get too close to it while it's active - they work on people with electronics as sophisticated as my own, so it will work on you as well. There is small buffer zone where you're electronics will start to feel fuzzy before you enter the area of total effect."

Jet nodded, "Thanks for the warning," That had been exactly what she was afraid of.

"One final reminder," said Ben, this time his tone became firm. "Do not allow this to fall into Mundane hands. This technology can give them the ability to disable our ships, and there are those among them that would love to lord that over us. If you fire all three, you recover all three, no matter what state it's in."

"Right, right. That won’t be a problem."

Benjamin handed Jet the three projectiles. "I've read about you, you know, and the Roughriders could use someone like you. If you're ever looking for something with a little more stability, I'll make sure that there's a place for you with us."

"You have?" Jet seemed surprised, aside from a few videos, she’d hardly considered herself noteworthy. "Thanks. I'll think about it.” a breath. “I've got other stuff on the go right now though, but I appreciate the offer,"

"It's understandable," said Ben. "You all set to go then?"

"Just let me get these strapped on right," she fiddled with the stunners, not wanting one to go off while she was flying. Better safe than sorry.

Gina, meanwhile, pushed a big black button on a panel with diagonal yellow-and-black danger stripes. A tone sounded and the topside hatch opened, letting the roar of the slipstream in.

"Thanks for the hospitality. I'll see you around," Jet smiled, looking up and out at the sky. Now how am I going to do this without hitting anything?

Gina seemed to read her thoughts. "Just get your head out and boost straight up. Don't worry about us. We'll be in our seats, which are protected." To demonstrate, Gina went to the forward bulkhead and pushed a button, causing a door to slide into the doorway leading to her and Ben's seats.

"Right right." Jet nodded, stepping onto the ladder. She was facing towards the back of the jet as she popped her head above, into the airflow. The wind whipped at her hair before she dropped back inside, putting her helmet on

Gina pushed it again and the bulkhead door retracted. Benjamin took that as his cue and went in, climbing over Gina's console, sliding into his seat. Gina followed, closing the door once more.

"We're all set," came Ben's voice. "You're clear to go."

"Copy." Jet fired her engines full throttle, launching up into the airstream. Just to be sure. The blackbird fell away like a stone beneath her. "I'm clear," she radioed.

Once Jet was clear, the Magnificent Midnight suddenly stood on her tail and fired her engines at full-power, creating a sound not unlike one of the Apollo rockets launching.

"Wow"... Jet said to herself, watching the blackbird roar to the heavens, before banking herself over, and turning back North to Frenchburg. As she went, the Blackbird snapped off a neat roll as though to wish her good luck.

Jet hurried back, flying as fast as she dared with a rifle on her back. As she feared, it wasn’t doing any favours for her aerodynamics... but it was liveable. It rattled and clattered against her back in the breeze.

Bloody hell that was annoying.

Seeing the Trooper’s ford waiting for her, she pitched herself forward into a gentle landing, a flash of her boot engines sending gravel like shrapnel skittering against the walls and windows. She took a deep breath, feeling her turbines wind down, before opening the hotel room door.

Ruth saw the harpoons first, and blinked.

“The ATF is going to have a cat when they see that thing,”

Jet threw her a puzzled look.

“I thought guns were legal here,”

“Not harpoons enough to take out Moby Dick!”

Well, maybe with a background check, a two hundred dollar stamp for each harpoon and a stamp for the rifle the thing’d be legal.

“Well,” Jet recalled Ben’s warnings will an odd gleam in her eye. “I’ll just have to not get caught with it.”

“Fine.” the Trooper shrugged. “There’s no time to worry about it. We’ve less than an hour to get down there. Just throw it in the trunk of my cruiser.”

----->>

And the Doc.
________________________________
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?
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#9
Small piece of the next second and some fragments. While I figure out why google docs just slapped my doc with a lock that doesn't let me keep it shared.

Quote:It was a long drive down to Breatthitt County, even with the Trooper’s sirens going the whole time. Jet clocked a top speed over over 210kph on the main road, just before they hit Campton. Ruth was driving the wheel’s off the Crown Victoria, and it still felt achingly slow.
And horrendously small.
The Magnificent Midnight had been cramped inside... but a car. Jet was barely able to fit in the seat... her knees where jammed against the glove compartment, and the whole wing assembly was pushing her forward in the seat.
She bristled inside the vehicle, staring out the windows at the world crawling past. She closed her eyes, feeling the car’s frame begin to close in around her.
She took a deep breath.
“Nervous?” the Trooper questioned.
“Just not a car person,” the cyborg answered. That was the truth.
She flies, but doesn’t like being in a fast car, how strange. Ruth mused on that for a few moments. When she’d had Jet in the van, that was something she’d put down to tiredness, or maybe an unfamiliarity with American roads. Hell, she’d nearly jumped out of her... metal the first time Ruth turned right on a red.
“Can we go a faster?” Jet asked.
“I’m pegged at the speed-limiter. ”
Right...the cyborg realised, ordinary petrol engined car. Jet closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath. Ruth could tell that something had changed when they opened again, but for the life of her, couldn’t tell what.
“Do you have any red paint or lipstick or anything like that.?” enquired Jet, her voice strangely flat.
Ruth gave her a weird look. “Lipstick?”
“Something that will leave a mark on skin,”
Whatever it was, it seemed serious.
“Check in the glove compartment. There might be somethin’. But I ain’t got no idea why you’re so concerned about being pretty before you go into a fight,”
“It’s not that,” stated Jet, carefully and very deliberately opening the compartment. She rummaged slowly, before finding a red marker normally used for marking out crash sites.
Ruth watched her draw two red lines under each of her eyes, reminding of the eye-black footballers wore. Weird.... Another little mystery about the Fen from outer space.
She turned her attention back to the road, to some drunken moron who’d thought she was trying to pull him over and stuffed it in a ditch trying to run away. She called it in, but didn’t have time to stop to help. Local county-mounties could take care of it.
“These fella’s know I’m going to be there, don’t they?”
“They do,” Ruth assured her. “Remember, take care of the Cat, and try not to get in their way,”
Jet just nodded. “If they start using other wavetech?”
“Wait for us to call for help before doing anything
“I need the radio frequencies. ”
“It’s the normal police band,” She looked at her antennae on the gynoids back, “You can receive that stuff, right?”
“Yeah.” Jet exhaled a breath, rubbing at some empty mounting on her forearm. “Just don’t call unless you’re sure you can’t handle it. We need these people alive.”
Ruth wore a puzzled look for a moment “...Alright.” The cop pondered on that for a moment, before forcing her conclusion out of her mind with a chilling shudder. “Anyway,” she focused her mind, “The legalities have been sorted out, as best as they can be...”
The explanation of which just soared over Jet’s head. Ruth knew she was probably just boring the cyborg, but it helped keep her mind awake. She’d been up for over thirty-six hours. The trooper swallowed a yawn, doing her damnedest to focus on driving.
“Too bad we’re not in Fenspace“ Jet remarked, offhand. “We just raid them as soon as we find them,”
“No warrant?”
“Nope,” she shook her head.
Ruth looked almost appalled at the idea.
“Well,” Jet continued, “There’re very few all-Fenspace courts, and very little’s actually illegal. Besides...” she shrugged, “, while we do like due process, what courts there are are pretty ad-hoc.”
Ruth blinked, “You mean sort of like the wild west?”
“Pretty much. Space is too big and too diverse for anything more complicated.”
Ruth yawned again, veering into the left-hand lane for a moment, before she pulled the car back.
“Sorry,” she shook her head to clear her mind. “Been up for a bit too long. Just keep talkin’ to me. What do you guys do when you raid them?”
“Much the same things you guys do,” answered Jet, trying to be diplomatic. “We’re supposed to arrest, it’s just not always possible.”
“I see. Well... we’re planning to take these guys alive. See if we can find where their main base is,”
Jet smiled, “Speaking of which. In my pouch, I’ve got a memory stick with sensor scans of the area, courtesy of the Fenspace Convention,”
Ruth perked, “Oh? Did they find anything?”
And some fragments
Quote:===========================
The loop is broken
Music selection: First part: Maroon 5 - “Harder to breathe”

Stea woke to blackness deeper to anything known. There wasn’t even any of the grogginess that one would expect with having just woken. His life flashed before his eyes, like a moving slide show with a crystal clearness that shouldn’t have been possible. It finished with him getting shot and falling, but something was off. He realized that he was watching himself fall at the same time he felt it. Something tugged at the back of his mind getting more presistent with every passing moment.
...damage sustained...
.
What? Where did that come from. He peered about until he spotted the source, a dying ember of light above him. It pulsed as he watched and the tug came again.
...damage sustained...core restart...
.
.
...failed...
Something caused him to reach out for the glowing ember, some drive he couldn’t help. It seemed so helpless there as he cupped his hands around it and drew it in. It seemed to respond to him. The glow grew brighter, he could feel something trying to talk to him in the back of his head. “They did always say one should go into the light.”  He relaxed as he became one with the light as it consumed the darkness.
...damage sustained...core restart...
.
.
.
...successful...
=============================
$Outside
             Second Part: Bon Jovi - “It’s my life”

Vents on the zoid popped open a faint glow could be seen inside. The sounds of the area where drowned out by the whine of a turbine.  The glow increased as the volume of the turbine climbed higher. The half open cockpit hatch snapped shut as the zoid picked itself off the ground. It then lifted it’s head to the heavens to let out a roar. The vents slowly shut and cut the sound off as the zoid lowered it’s head, eyes a glow.
Jet and Sabre talking some point after the above. Probably after a high speed chase by Jet to run him down.
Quote:“It’s strange to be staring at your own dead body.”
“Don’t worry, you’re not the first. I know at least one other person who’se seen himself die, and he’s okay with it.”
“Best to pick up the pieces and move on.”
While the Bosco’s are all... “Hey, he’s not dead! We don’t get murder convictions!!
_______________________________________________________________
Characters
Sabre Fang
Dakota
Warning:
Dihydrogen monoxide
Containment Vessel








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#10
Isn't the first time an automated censor has caught a fanfic out. My BGC fanfic site got canned by 110mb.com by accident. All I had to do was email them to get it back up and running again. But, if it isn't going to work, I might try setting up my own google wave instance, running off my laptop. The code is apache licensed and available... and it'd be a fun thing to try.

Though, I'm on a dynamic IP. So I'll have to give the IP address out in #Fenspace. And it'll only be online when I'm in there.
________________________________
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#11
A scene with Jet and one of the criminals. I've spent quite a bit of time trying to get this right... both the amount of anger Jet shows, and how much of that is either staged, or not.

Not sure if this is actually legal or not.... but from what I gather, cops will try a number of things to encourage a suspect to voluntarily waive their right to silence, and an empty threat from a 'foreigner' that they might be extradited and airlocked.

Quote:Ruth emerged from the interview room sighing lightly to herself.

“Well?” asked Jet.

“As we expected, he’s taken the Fifth.” she said.

“So we go with the plan then?”

“Yup. Remember... just don’t touch him.”
.
Jet nodded, “Right, right.” she held up her hand, before taking a deep breath and opening the door. Quietly, she stepped inside before closing the door behind her with a very deliberate gentleness.

Derek looked up at the white armoured woman who’d just entered the room, feeling a creeping unease build.

“What... who are you?”

His voice small and weedy in the white concrete room, already sweating, a fearful nausea rising up the back of his throat.

“I’m Gesele Jaguar, from the Panzer Kunst Gruppe.” the cyborg introduced herself calmly “And you’re going to talk to me, right?”

The shaking was getting worse. Jet stood herself at the opposite end of the table, tensely staring down at him.

Derek glanced away. “Hey, I already took the Fifth. You can’t make me say a word until I get a lawyer!” There was a nervous quiver in his voice.

Jet seemed to ignore him, focusing on the plan.“Those people you’re working for, those people we know you’re funneling cash to... they’re called Boskonians. They’re our enemy. They’re responsible for a lot of death, a lot of suffering.” she hardened her voice. “There’s a lot of hate for them... and those erdeside dickheads like you who support them.”

“Here look... I ain’t never even been up to space. I’m a US Citizen, I got rights here!”

“I don’t give two wet shites about your rights man. Now listen to me... A little shite like you, we don’t give two fucks about...we’ll leave you to Uncle Sam. What we do care about is what you know, and who you were working for.”
,
“Hey... you know what these people do to rats.”

”Yes I do. And you know what happens to shitehawks like yourself when we get a hold of yous up there?”

Derek noticed the robot-woman had gripped both her hands into fists.

“No...”

Jet’s expression changed to an almost savage grin.

“Have you ever seen a person explode in space?”

Images of half-remembered sci-fi horror movies flickered through the suspects mind. A nice look of surprise, followed by eyes and tongue buldging out and turning red. Blood boiling and bubbling through the ears, nose and out a silently screaming mouth. Veins swelling up a dirty crimson before the final.... pop.

“What.... what’s in it for me?”

Jet forced her voice to sound calm and cold. “If you’re willing to talk about this down here, we won’t push for you to be extradited. Trust me, it’ll be better for everyone involved if you cooperate with the cops down here.”

Jet stepped up to the door and gripped the handle. With an effortless snap. she pulled it free, looked down at it, showing surprise before making a show of searching for somewhere she could put it. She tossed it gently on the table, allowing it to skittle off the tape recorder before coming to rest in front of Derek.

“I’ll give you a few minutes to ponder on that before sending Trooper Ruth back in.” she said, pulling the door open using the stub of the handle, before stepping out.

Derek just stared at the handle... clearly reinforced and designed to resist any human attempt at tampering with it... and the robot woman who’d taken on that tiger single handed had just snapped it off like it was a matchstick.

Was it just his imagination, or had the chair he was sitting on suddenly started to feel very uncomfortable.

Jet closed the door behind her and blew out a long breath, leaning back against the wall.

“So it worked?”

“Yeah,” she said, not making eye contact. “Sorry about the door,”
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#12
The door knob is a very, very nice touch.

And I strongly suspect the guy would rather have had Batman walk into the room at this point...
--

"You know how parents tell you everything's going to fine, but you know they're lying to make you feel better? Everything's going to be fine." - The Doctor
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#13
Jet does have that certain "Dead or alive, you're coming with me" effect.And by this stage, after losing a few friends at SerenityCon, is slowly beginning to hate the enemy. (Which is something I'm looking at in another ongoing thing I mentioned elsewhere, because it seems interesting).

Also been starting to add a little more from the perspective of our bad guys.... who they are and what they're actually planning. Because robbing banks with a giant tiger is a bit silly. So was the 'sudden' revelation that there have been 25 missing persons nobody thought to mention before now, so add a corrupt copper.

Quote:Derek Laramie was sweating in his polyester suit. Behind him, the dark shape of the ‘Cat’ loomed ominously, fangs glinting in the evening sun.

He was sweating.

And he was waiting.

A dark Maserati Sedan crept up the gravel trackway, crunching stones beneath it’s tires. It crawled to a halt opposite him, waiting for a few tension-building moments before the whirring engine shut down.

The driver’s door opened first... a bald man in a dark pinstripe suit stepping out. The chauffeur glanced around, scanning the trees, then the rest of the yard, then Derek himself. A standard precaution before the passenger’s door was opened with a quick button-push.

For a brief moment, Derek could see how thick the bulletproof glass was. It was so heavy, it needed hydraulics to move.

“It’s clear Mister Gordini,” the chauffeur said, his voice kept low.

Mister Gordini... Derek never learned his first name... stepped out. He was wearing a beautifully tailored Caraceni suit. He was wearing a look of fury that’d make the tide turn back and run in fear.

“Well. Mister Gordini,” Derek offered his hand....

Gordini looked at him like he’d stabbed his mother, and was offering him the still-bloodied knife.

“Son, when you realise how badly you fucked up, you’re not even going to say you’re sorry. When I turn around and you’re still able to piss standing up, you aren’t even going to thank me, do you understand?”

Feeling a brick dropping in his pants, Derek could only nod gormlessly.

“You aren’t even allowed to fucking nod in my presence. What was your job..... what were your orders, come down from the boss himself? What where your fucking orders numbnuts?”

Uh....

“That’s right. You take the cat and you make sure it works... and make double sure that none of the goddamned feds have any fucking clue it even exists until we spring it on them. Nowhere in there does it say you take it for a joyride through the countryside, and sure as hell I don’t see anywhere where it says to start knocking over some two-bit redneck banks for a thousand bucks... and get caught on some dumb schmuck’s iPhone doing it. Do you have even the slightest idea what we’re trying to accomplish here?”

Er...

“This isn’t about making a quick buck... retards, gun-nuts and jobless hicks rob banks.... This is about turning the unstoppable force of United States public opinion against those shit-eating dogooders up there. What do you suppose would’ve been the reaction when that thing started rampaging through Frankfort... when you got burning buildings on the news and little kiddies and politicians being taken away in bodybags?”

Well...

“They would be right royally pissed off, and do you know who they would be pissed off at? Well it wouldn’t be us. You do understand that the Freaks still need support from down here.... food, ammunition, bodies. You piss the US off, and they cut the Freaks off. Freaks wither and die.”

But....

“Now instead of pissing them off, all you’ve managed to do is annoy them enough to start looking for you. That Governor has already requested help from Freako Central, and you bet the President’s been briefed on this. You’ve come withing a penguins pecker of fucking this up beyond all redemption... and you know what normally happens to dipshits who fuck up as royally as you’ve managed. ” he turned back towards the car. “Sara!”

From inside the car stepped a woman in a flight suit... at least that was Dereks first guess. A split second later, he spotted the tail, followed by the ears which seemed to track each and every sound in the trees above.

Shit... oh shit..

“This is Sara. You’re job is to look after her. Keep her happy, keep her safe, and most importantly keep her away from prying eyes. She’s not your own personal fuck-toy either so don’t be getting ideas. Sara is a special piece of equipment... Sara is specially programmed by Grey himself to be the pilot of the big Cat. Sara is your fucking God. Understand?”

“Hi,” purred the catgirl, edging up beside him

“It’s too late for you getting your own ship after a screw up of this magniture... that ship has sailed... but you might be able to save yourself from coughing up furballs for the rest of your days. Now... tell what the hell have you done down here that isn’t fucking retarded??”

Um...

“Well... we managed to get a detective in our pocket.”

“Wow.... that’s like, notch 1. Maybe they’ll let you remember who you were when you’re bathing yourself with your own tongue....”

This was going to be a long night.
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#14
"Magnitude," unless you particularly want the guy saying it to sound less intelligent than he thinks he is.

Also, Lancia is not a commonly available marque in the US. I see it's got some touches of Fiat ownership, so there may be some of that via a Chrysler dealer, but so far the only Fiat labeled a Fiat that should be avalable in the States is the 500.

The only other Italian Coachwork easily purchased (i.e., from a reputable dealer) and not "exceptional" beyond the fact of what the car is, would be Ferarri, Lamborghini or Maserati.

--Addendum--

Research indicates that a 2008-9 Fiat Delta was rebadged as a Chrysler for a Chicago Auto show/Test Market. So it is possible for your mental image to be correct, just... *shrug*
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''

-- James Nicoll
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#15
A Maserati would make sense alright. I've always had a personal thing for Lancia's (Delta, Stratos, Beta). I've change it above, and I'll fix it in the main doc the moment I'm not dying asleep. And yeah, 'magniture' was deliberate.
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#16
...Okay, sounds like we got clandestine government involvement... Would I be right in assuming that this is similar to what we see in the movie, The Shooter?
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#17
Never seen that film tbh.

What's happening is, Boskonians want to use the Sabre Tiger to do a Grover's Mills incident for real, by attacking an American city with it, and making it look like some dumb fan either lost control of it, or went on a deliberate rampage. Like the Grovers Mill's legend, but for real....

The bank robberies were just someones idea to make a quick buck using the tiger, trying to impress a bigger boss. Jet was sent to help investigate the robberies, because as far as the State Governor and Great Justice were concerned, it was just someone using a Mech to rob banks.... they might possibly have a connection to the Boskonians, maybe not. Jet was chosen because of her Panzer Kunst abilities, and because it was deemed unimportant enough not to be worth calling in other possibly more qualified troubleshooters. Had the disappearances been known about at the time it's likely Jet wouldn't even be involved.

The 25 disappearances were covered for by a bribed cop, who nobody knows is crooked at this point....

The Governor is trying to keep things as hushed as possible, for political reasons.

Jet is trying not to screw up and cause a big stink.
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#18
Working on something of a sensible resolution for this. Bad guys get arrested, the true details are kept hushed up by the Governor to protect his political career.....

Sara is probably released after it's decided she can't be charged with anything. BBI help her find a life/job in the Liberty Protection Force. Stae is taken in by the Cyber Confederacy. And somebody hands off the true details of things to a DHS agent....

Quote:“She’s been brainwashed alright,” Ruth said with a sigh, “They wanted us to think she was a spree killer. She’s bragging about a massacre in Frankfort, about how she wanted to use the cat to enact the laws of Darwin on the inferior unmodded humans, how she wanted to go down in history with the indisputable ‘high score’, how it was justice for the Fen.”

“... What the hell?”

“If they’d been successful.... if they’d set her loose on Frankfort, and she’d been pulled from the wreckage spouting that crap live on national TV.... I don’t have to tell you what the response would’ve been. You were worried about how we’d respond to twenty missing people, what about two hundred dead, or two thousand? You know how we responded the last time some crazies killed two thousand people”

“What scares me is how close they came to winning. If they hadn’t gotten cocky and started robbing those banks, we’d never have caught them. We had no idea what they were really doing until after we stopped them. We’dve had no idea it was coming until Frankfort was a burning ruin. And when we pulled that poor unfortunate from the wreck, we’d be too filled with righteous vengeance and furious anger to stop and turn and think about things. She’d be tried as a terrorist and likely executed for a crime she wasn’t responsible for, before anyone could figure out what she really was. We might even have mistaken her for a biomodded Stae Nor when we traced the cat back to his place. And I guess, the Fen would’ve become our enemy.”

“So what happens now?”

“Governor’s gonna keep the truth quiet, that’s for sure. It’d kill him politically for one thing. And the last thing we need’s a full blown terrorism panic, especially one involving Fenspace. Most of them are probably going to be on state charges, looking at life without parole if they’re lucky, and probably the death penalty if there's justice. But that’ll be a few years and a lot of lawyering from now.

How should this play out sensibly? Can't be too neat... but at the same time, can't start another wave of wave panic.
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#19
State would probably want to have the cat disassembled quietly, or at least buried somewhere, because someone would take notice if something that big lifted off shortly after the bank heists. Of course, this is a no-no because there's somebody 'inside' it.

Dunno if that'd work for you. *Shruggs*
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#20
blackaeronaut Wrote:State would probably want to have the cat disassembled quietly, or at least buried somewhere, because someone would take notice if something that big lifted off shortly after the bank heists. Of course, this is a no-no because there's somebody 'inside' it.

Dunno if that'd work for you. *Shruggs*
A good ship with a reactionless engine should be able to lift Sabre into orbit without anyone noticing... during the night.
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#21
HRogge Wrote:A good ship with a reactionless engine should be able to lift Sabre into orbit without anyone noticing... during the night.
Preferably a ship that has some business being in the area, just in case it is spotted. This is too big a job for Hermes Universal Deliveries, so it's probably better to call in Jupiter Mining Corporation for this rescue.
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012
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#22
Jet could always call for a ride home, citing 'engine trouble'. A Blue Midget sounds like it could do the job...and pick the Cat up into the bargain.

It might be a good way to bring Agent Smith back into the story.... he's the one assigned on behalf of the DHS to take possession of the zoid as a threat to Notional security. And probably some county-mountie named "Deputy Stagg" along with him, because Ruth is able to cite some department regulations about working hours to try foil him. Hotel owner takes the Fifth when asked where Jet's gone....

Intending to claim that Jet was planning to fire first, he empties a magazine of 9mm hollowpoints into Jet's armour, scratching the paint a little. Jet disarms him before he can reload (non-violently) and destroys the Glock in a very intimidating way.

"....You're all under arrest!..."

Blue midget lands behind Jet, with the remark that "We caught that on our landing camera."

"Are we now?"

"You haven't heard the last of the United States Government!"
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#23
Blue Midgets of the Block 2 can effectively carry mobile homes and larger with little to no adaptation. So there wouldn't be a problem loading the Cat up and taking it away. And I'm sure Jeph can be talked into helping maintain the cover story of 'engine trouble'. Odds are pretty good here that there's a 'mutually beneficial' professional relationship already between Jet, as a courier, and Jupiter Mining Corporation, as a big shipper.
--

"You know how parents tell you everything's going to fine, but you know they're lying to make you feel better? Everything's going to be fine." - The Doctor
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#24
I can see this leading into Sabre doing work for Jeph later on. Even more so once Sabre gets that whale king built.
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