#and probably throw away all my military notes about all my signal crap
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eyepatchdate · 4 months ago
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i can't believe i never posted any of my snk fic. like. i have MULTIPLE NOTEBOOKS of handwritten stuff, and a LOT on my phone but like. i was into snk when i didn't have access to a computer. so almost none of this is typed and so thus also none of it was ever posted.
#shitpost#thinking of it because i have two of my notebooks stacked visibly rn because i am supposed to put the pages back in order#because they both fell apart so like i need to fix all the pages#and probably throw away all my military notes about all my signal crap#the thing that made me into snk is that i was actively at my military training while i was into it#and like it was relaxing to me to read about characters doing similar things also trapped in a military structure#or whatever.#anyways i had a few astronomically good ideas but they're trapped now unfinished and not fully formed and WRITTEN BY HAND#and really after i got out of my training hell i fell out of snk because it no longer was something i needed#because i was a guardsman. love that weekend warrior life.#but all this stuff is languishing and its just too bad#b/c some of it is SO good.#i had SUCH a good jeanmarco fic. and like the best time loop fic of all time dare i say.#and a few other ideas as well that were pretty good but i recall them a little less#because again i am just not into snk anymore. i was only into it for a few months but when i was i was SUPER into it#and had TONS of time to write.#in class. mostly. which is why a lot of it is interspersed with notes about radios and signal shit.#because i got through modules faster than the entire class and had to figure out how to slow myself down#because otherwise i had fuck all to do#someday i'll go through these notebooks and toss out the military shit and keep the snk shit#and hopefully be able to put the snk stuff in order. lol
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spydre · 4 years ago
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We Don't Have Time For A Gang War
 (Game Date: 4/15/2021)
(Or, This Was Supposed To Be A Side Quest)
There we stood, betwixt the carnage of our skirmish with the Masques and the rubble of their demolished drug factory.  My ears were still ringing from the explosion (Katrya's suppliers have top-shelf military supplies) when the foxkin began herding everyone into various vehicles.   Mostly she sorted them by age and state of injury; those she deemed more at-risk were directed into the "junk" van, while the rest she wanted in Frank.  The new mission, as she saw it and I could not dispute, was to clear out Varfana's shop.  
I waved them ahead, because I wanted to stay behind long enough to harvest a BANlink from one of the fallen gangers.  Gordianus also stayed, because she wanted to try to gather intel from the neighborhood (she actually did overhear a number of conversations, which may prove useful later).  I wished her luck, but also bade her be careful.  Then I took my stolen tek and mounted the Owlet.
I was headed for the mech shop; Frank for the weapon shop to help clear it out.  During the flight, Lohrig got a text which read, "You messed up," and then Varfana's shop exploded.  No one was hurt, thankfully, and most of the important equipment was cleared out, but damn.  We can be grateful for Katrya's quick thinking.
Another message followed quickly:  "Your next delivery is you. One hour. Mess this one up and we order take-out instead."  
They needed somewhere to lay low, and I needed to put together a plan.  I suggested Sanctuary.  If Border Patrol couldn't track down their missing agents, then I highly doubted that any drug-peddling street thugs could, no matter how determined.  
I wasted about five minutes with swearing and self-recrimination.  We had stopped our little caffeine-pill operation specifically to avoid starting crap with these street gangs, and now here we were, smack in the middle of a full-fledged war.  I should have seen this coming.  I should have planned better.  
And now, here I have this BANlink, which has contacts and records, but without an active call, I can't trace anything.  To make matters worse, the younger members of our cabal are badly shaken, and are asking me to leave them out of future schemes that may involve straight-up murder.
We've been hit in the morale.  Time to actually use my brain for something besides keeping my hair in place.
Okay.  What do we actually know?
The boss recruits by intimidation.  When faced with any sort of resistance, he retaliates and escalates.  Right now, he wants Lohrig, which means we absolutely cannot let him have Lohrig.  But what else?  He made an "or else" threat, so if he doesn't get what he wants, then he will move against the kid's family.  Maybe he will, even if he does get what he wants.  
I sent Katrya, along with her choice of backup, to check out the family residence.  She knows what explosives, and suspicious people, look like, and is more than capable of disarming both.  I also send Maggy ahead to the spot where Lohrig is supposed to deliver himself.  That should buy a bit of breathing room.  How much?  I had Parker set a countdown timer.  Damn.  Not much at all.
Next.  We don't have any drones that match the kid's body type.  I can simulate his face well enough with a FakeFace(TM) necklace, but that's about it.  I fed Lohrig's voice, and my plan, to Parker, slung the Dawn drone onto my Owlet, then made book for Sanctuary. 
The idea bubbling up was this:  If we could pass Dawn off as the dwarf boy, then perhaps we can ambush their pickup.  There is bound to be an active call going on, because the Masque boss will not be able to resist monitoring the kid's punishment.  That should give me another chance to trace his location.  
But, to do that, I need to get my people, and Lohrig's BANlink, all of which are out at comms-dead Sanctuary.  The clock is ticking.
It took Vamir a couple of tries to get the illusion right on the drone.  If we weren't already in motion, the delay would have made us late for the rendezvous.  All I could do was fidget.  To keep myself busy, I worked out a new packet for my anthrodrone virus, telling them to beat any Masque senseless, rip off their mask, and send a picture of their face to Border Patrol.  Gave it a five-day lifespan, to keep them from weaponizing the order against innocents.  It made me feel better.
Only a few minutes remained when we pulled up, invisibly, to the broken-down playground.  Vamir spotted a spy-eye, He saw the brand name (Floating Eye) and that it was tagged with the Masque logo.  He could probably have read the serial number if it hadn't been filed off.  I immediately started hacking into its signal.  
About this time, a call came through on Lohrig's BAN.  Parker picked up.
 "You messed up, kid. You messed up big-time.  And now your family is paying the price. How does that make you feel?"
Parker hesitated.  I would have liked to guide my VP through the conversation, but the hack was giving me trouble, and I couldn't afford to split my attention.  I just told her to keep them on the line as long as possible.  
 "I... I feel... sad."
"You should. It's your fault, what happened to the family shop. You had a simple job, to make deliveries, but your failure... Well, that's the kind of guilt you're going to have to carry for the rest of your life."
Parker approximated a sobbing sound.  Quite seriously, I don't think it would have fooled someone who was expecting a deception, but the caller (almost certainly the Masque boss) was in it for the gloat.
"Hush now. Don't worry. I have something for you. Go to the slide."
"W-... what's at the slide?"
"You'll see. It's a gift."
Bingo!  I found the pilot of the spy-eye.  Traced the drone's signal back to his ban and heard him describing all the visible action to someone who sounded exactly like the voice on Lohrig's BAN.  I started tracing that call back.
About this time Parker (driving Dawn (disguised as Lohrig)) reached the rusty slide, and was directed by the caller to take a package  that was taped beneath it.  She, being cautious, asked what was in it.
"Like I said, a gift. Something that will take away your guilt. Take it."
"That is a bomb," warned Katrya, who, like all of us, was eavesdropping over the commlink.
This situation really irritated me.  I didn't want to lose this 20k hardware investment over some stupid homemade bomb, but neither did I want the caller to hang up before the trace was complete.  I told Parker to proceed, but be ready to throw the package at the pilot's location.  So she retrieved it, and took a peek.  
Wires,  flashing lights, plastique.
"Good," crooned the slimy voice.  "Now all you have to do, is let go. Let go, and you won't have to carry this guilt anymore."
"Don't throw that, Parker!" I ordered.
Vamir said, "There's probably a remote detonation switch."
"I'm on it," from Ryatt.  Mere seconds later, he reported, "Remote detonater is off, but I can't do anything about the deadman switch."
I was past the first VPN,  and had the call back to the same sector of the city as before.  "Parker," I said, "don't throw -- run toward the drone pilot.  Gang, we are going to try to take a prisoner."
I could hear the pilots panicked reaction over my hijacked link through his drone.  He was completely freaked out to see the poor sad little dwarf boy kick up his heels and run straight towards his parked hardshell.  He was even more freaked out when his remote detonator didn't work - he kept pressing it, repeatedly, screaming over his BANlink, "I'm trying, it's not going off!"
One more creepy, ominous portent arrived over Lohrig's BANlink: "You don't learn quickly. Goodbye, kid. Shame you'll never get to say goodbye to your family."  Then the call terminated...but not before I managed to nail the location.  Sector, street, apartment.  Gotcha.
Looking up, I saw everything moving very quickly.  We had the pilot's van surrounded, although he didn't know it yet, as everyone save the Dawn drone had ruthenium cloaking.  He was powering up, getting ready to flee.  I shut that down quickly -- after so long struggling against multiple VPNs, it was an absolute pleasure to accomplish a straightforward vehicle hijack.  
Meanwhile, back at the dwarven residence,  a couple of un-masked Masques had received orders and were making their move, reaching under jackets and closing in on the flat.  Katrya and Varfana quickly got that under control - they were carrying explosives, as expected.  This gang seems to be overly fond of explosives; we'll have to watch out for that.  They were not carrying anything that proved an adequate defense against shocking blades and foxkin fists of fury.
At the sad little playground, we dropped our invisibility once we had the hardshell surrounded.  I popped open the door and Vamir told the driver to step out.  Which he did...but then he opened his hand, and the night light up.
He had been holding a deadman's switch of his own, and the explosion came either from a bomb he carried on him, or from close behind him in the van.  Either way, it killed him instantly.  Most of our crew escaped the brunt of the blast.
But not the Dawn drone.  Parker had to keep the bomb she was holding still, and couldn't employ full range of movement - and could not get the drone out of the way quickly enough.  It was disabled, to say the least, and that was a problem, because it was carrying a live bomb.
The second blast also did not kill anyone, but it certainly ensured that nothing salvageable remained of that drone.  
Parker's normal voice quavered across my BANlink.  "Did... Did I just die, Zeke?"
I made a mental note to have a long discussion with Parker about death later -- and to take some precautions against her actually dying.  For now, I simply reassured her that the loss of the drone did not mean that she died, and praised her performance as a frightened Lohrig.
Then, while the healers were patching everyone up, I scavenged what equipment I could from the wreckage, got the hardshell running, and we headed out.  
We needed rest, and a plan.  We can not afford to let this go on any further.  
..::Kai::..
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