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June 20, 2085, Outside of Barstow, California
The message from RAIN said to meet at the diner next to the only a recharge station outside of Barstow, in what used to be California. It also said you would be infiltrating a convoy heading to a refugee camp and to dress appropriately.
The recharge station is eight lanes, but all of them are empty in what looks like it used to be a big box store parking lot. There are vehicles on the edges of the parking lot, but they look like they were abandoned there.
The desert behind the recharge station is shiny and black with solar panels fastened to concrete beds heavy enough to hold them down should a tornado pass. It is the only recharge station for miles on this stretch of highway between the Rocky Mountains Region and the Rio Grande Recovery Area. Travelling this route also keeps you well south of the absolute nightmare that was once Las Vegas.
At the coordinates given, there are two diners, side by side, one called Peggy's and one called Penny's. By the state of disrepair that Penny's is in, it's a safe bet the meet-up is in Peggy's; at least Peggy's has a roof.
The sign outside Penny's says "Jesus Saves." The sign outside Peggy's says "chickenwaffles" on one row, all one word, and, then, on the next row "$" with no amount specified.
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A black, unmarked van drives into an underground garage about five blocks away from the meeting point. The doors open up and Friedrich von Junzt is “gently” pushed outside by men in heavy armor. “Alright, von Junzt. You’ve been briefed and you know the drill. Move your ass to the meeting point and make nice with your new RAIN pals. Until this is over, you’re their dog.” summarizes the leader of the group, as he tosses a pack of cigarettes to the floor. “This is to help you get in character. Don’t mess up again, von Junzt. There is no strike two with us!”. The door slams shut and chuckles can be heard as the vehicle drives away.
Von Junzt lights up a smoke as he sits down by a pile of garbage, giving himself a generous break, making sure nothing else is hiding down in the garage with him. Once it’s over, he gets out and starts walking towards the meeting point. On the way, he tries different postures, going through a cowardly stance, cocky attitude, friendly vibe… he decides on a mixture of high self-confidence and friendliness.
He enters Peggy’s, sits by the counter and starts working on the android. “Coffee, sugar. Black. How’s business? Good? I like the atmosphere you got here. Miles better than your competition”, von Junzt points casually to Penny’s. “The name is von Junzt, I’m from Berlin II. What is your name?”
He enters Peggy’s, sits by the counter and starts working on the android. “Coffee, sugar. Black. How’s business? Good? I like the atmosphere you got here. Miles better than your competition”, von Junzt points casually to Penny’s. “The name is von Junzt, I’m from Berlin II. What is your name?”
The android jerks a thumb at a hand scrawled sign that says "No coffee. We have Cawfee(TM)." Cawfee is the powdered-mushroom coffee substitute. He replies to von Junzt's question dryly, "Name's Peggy. It's on the sign out front."
The walk from the dropoff point had been quick. Archeron scanned the environment, looking for hidden predators, but had hustled the whole way, only stopping once the station was in sight.
Archeron wore dirty, ripped jeans, a zipper hoodie, and a OD army field jacket over that. He had a pack on his back that hung over one shoulder instead of two and his dirty engineer's boots were well used.
He walked into Peggy's, then stopped short and gave the guy trying to flirt with an android a quizical look before taking a seat in a booth.
A hooded, trench coated figure walks oddly along the road. Their gait suggests that they have an abnormal step. Brief glimpses of their feet reveals that they are far from human. they are something paw-like. The back of the trench coat bulges around the waist area and the figure has on a pack that looks like it was pulled out of a dumpster.
The figure slowly walks up to the diner's door, pulls their overly large hood lower, and opens the door. The figure stands at around six and a half feet tall and the hand that opens the door seems like some mix between a human and a frog. It has four fingers with the middle two unevenly elongated. As soon as they open the door, a wave of odor assaults the nostrils of all those who are in the establishment. It is a horrific amalgamation between wet dog and intense body odor.
Without a word, the figure moves to an empty booth and flops down on the seat. They laboriously slide to the opposite end and lean tiredly against the wall.
The android doesn't move to serve the two customers nor to ask them what they ordered.
"That's three," he says to himself.
A little ways off, an old junker of a truck, back filled with oddities and ends pulls up. Stepping out, is a tall man with obviously dyed purple hair, near lavender atop, darker shades lower. Covered in an obviously worn duster, loosely open. The only apparent tool upon his person is an old beat up flare gun, and if one looks close enough, the odds and ends that make up his custom med kit scattered around his attire. Upon his back was an old worn bag that looks mainly empty, looking soft to the touch, perhaps filled with bedding material.
Slapping the back end of the truck to signify to the driver the man calls out, “I’m glad I could help you with that leg and some of the spar parts. Thanks for the ride old timer. Just remember, Step-don’t twist, your leg needs time to heal.”
Taking note of the two sets of signs, “….How sanitary could food be out this way? ..Not that I have the credits for anything really. Maybe they’ll be sick from the food and I can trade a checkup for a meal.” Entering Peggy’s diner, takin the sight in-and the other fellows within and thinks to himself ‘…There were suppose to be team members, are these it? Was there a password? I really should have asked-or maybe I should stop accepting calls when I’m still mostly asleep… Ah, an android.. So, medical care for food is probably out.’
Waving hello to the Diner staff, smelling what was left behind by the hooded figure, and making note to try and scan that person for some kind of long term illness in the future. Zellgato sits down and ponders if they have a menu-and what the cheapest item would be. If we’re early or keeping cover, sitting here staring at a wall not eating isn’t a great start.
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Hearing the other Android speak, Archeron takes not and begins looking around the room at the tactical options.
Crystal, identify these others please.
On it boss!
Szreem reviews the message from RAIN as their vehicle approaches the drop-off point, then hides their weapons on their person. They've been in the form of an unremarkable middle-aged man for the past few hours, a face they've constructed over a while to be forgettable. The man gets out of the car and walks on the road until he reaches the diners. Deciding Peggy's seems a more likely meeting place and hearing a few voices from inside, he enters the building. He wears cheap, frayed, loose clothing under a thick coat, and stays quiet, leaning against a wall and watching the others.
Archeron takes note of the new entry by says nothing.
"That's five boss," the concealed figure croaks. Their voice has a regular pitch, but a croaking aspect that is grating on the ears. They shift slightly, the open part of the hood now facing the android. "Your the boss right?" they continue once more, "You've assembled a merry band of misfits I can only assume. Whatcha want from us circuit-for-brain?"
"Looks like it's going to be a busy night, huh Peggy? A bit of a rough crowd - your usual customers? Nobody's ordering.", he comments, taking a sip of his cawfee.
Hearing the other Android speak, Archeron takes not and begins looking around the room at the tactical options.
** spoiler omitted **
"That's five boss," the concealed figure croaks. Their voice has a regular pitch, but a croaking aspect that is grating on the ears. They shift slightly, the open part of the hood now facing the android. "Your the boss right?" they continue once more, "You've assembled a merry band of misfits I can only assume. Whatcha want from us circuit-for-brain?"
"I'm not the boss," replies 'Peggy.' "I'm not even in the company anymore."
"Looks like it's going to be a busy night, huh Peggy? A bit of a rough crowd - your usual customers? Nobody's ordering.", he comments, taking a sip of his cawfee.
"We don't usually have any customers," says the android.
"Gentle- ...Gentlepeople, you all know why you're here. Or, well, you might. I don't. No one tells me anything. Forget it," says 'Peggy.' He flicks a button behind the counter and a faint hum starts. He hands the remote control for the diner's video screens to von Junzt saying only "Any channel" and, then, heads out the door.
The android takes a cigarette out of a pack in his apron, leans against the wall of the diner near the door, and begins to smoke outside.
While being a bit relieved he doesn't have to scroung for cover food, is also disappointed that he didn't get a free meal. As the android starts to smoke, Zellgato clicks on his enviromental suit, and clicks his Microlab to note if the smoke is anything but normal cig smoke.
Giving the android a shrug emphesizing the 'Eh lung cancer yakno?' idea, and sits back to watch the video.
to confirm its just normal smoke-as opposed to something odd.
"Gentle- ...Gentlepeople, you all know why you're here. Or, well, you might. I don't. No one tells me anything. Forget it," says 'Peggy.' He flicks a button behind the counter and a faint hum starts. He hands the remote control for the diner's video screens to von Junzt saying only "Any channel" and, then, heads out the door.
The android takes a cigarette out of a pack in his apron, leans against the wall of the diner near the door, and begins to smoke outside.
"Have a good smoke, Peggy", von Junzt says, watching as the android leaves.
He stands up, holding his cup of cawfee and approaches the largest screen of the establishment. "Alright, everyone, amateur night is over. Put a lid on it and let's watch some TV". He turns it on and increases the volume until it overwhelms the place.
It's around this point that a backfiring, ramshackle truck pulls up to the point. The truck rocks on its suspension as a huge black furred bear gets out of the back.
"Gracias vecinos. ¡Manejen con cuidado!" The bear says in posh Spanish before turning and surveying the scene as he lifts a backpack out of the back of the truck and nods to the driver. At that point the truck drives away.
At first glance the bear appears to be dressed casually. On top of the largest pair of cargo pants you have ever seen is an over-sized t-shirt which appears to have the phrase "Can't we hug it out?" written on it.
A slightly sharper look immediately determines that odd reflections on the clothing are indicative of clear body armor which must be worn over this clothing.
Walking over to the location with the smoking android, the bear nods and enters the cafe.
Walking over to the location with the smoking android, the bear nods and enters the cafe.
The android snorts derisively as Gristlethorn passes through the door. This took some work for him to do as he doesn't seem to have been designed to snort derisively.
"Late. When I was on the job, I was never late for a briefing. Not one bloody time. Does it make a diff-" The closing of the door cuts off 'Peggy's' complaint.
The screens light up and a man's silhouette comes into focus on the screen, bright light of a setting sun stream through the window behind him.
Someone skilled in Geography could figure the rough location of the man on the screen based on this and the time of day where you are. He's east of the Appalachians, you can tell that.
"Good. Everybody's hear," says the man in a somewhat gravelly voice.
"Apologies for that." Gristlethorn says with a slight bow. "Would have been here sooner, but finding a ride heading in this direction turned out to be trickier than even I was expecting."
In a much quieter voice. 'Next time if you want the large bear to be on time provide a ride.'
Szreem's eyes widen slightly when the bear comes through the door. They'd interacted with Uplifted before, but seeing one as a teammate for an infiltration mission was a first. Seems RAIN's tapping some non-traditional people to do this, myself included. Must be something important.
When the TV flickers on, Szreem stops leaning on the wall and stands up, focus on the man in the screen.
As the group filed in an the Android behind the counter filed out, Archeron stood and began removing his clothing.
First, he unzippered his jacket and hoodie and then pulled off his shoulder holster which contained a pistol, revealing his android torso. He then opened his travelling pack and pulled out a metal case and parts of armor, the breastplate of which he donned once he was just down to a plain white T-Shirt .
He next removed his engineer boots and jeans and replaced them with the armored pants that were neatly folded inside his pack. Finally he swapped out his boots for a pair of dark reinforced combat boots.
As the TV flickered to life, the android opened the metal case and began to assemble some sort of longarm.
Throughout this he worked efficiently, with little wasted movement.
"OH!" the figure exclaims, "A robo-stripper!" Now this is classy!"
"Ooohhh!" the hooded figure says sarcastically waving their hands slightly a few times in front of them after the image speaks. The waving brought the sleeves of the trench coat down to the elbows and revealed their arms. It was an unnerving mix between frog and human, complete with a solid green tint. "Is that going to be it major obvious?" they say to the screen, their croaky voice still grating on ears. In a way that just makes you wince slightly. "I mean, you appear on a screen and the best intro you can think of is 'Good. Everybody's here.'" halfheartedly trying to imitate the gravelly voice. "You've got the setup for ominous with the whole silhouette thing. Something like 'I'm none of your business. Here's the mission..'. Now all I expect is for you to start reading the news. You got more to say Walter Cronkite?"
While waiting for the gravelly voiced man to continue, Zellgato takes some time in his seat, to review the basics of bear biology. Not a species he had to patch up that often in the past. Better to make note of unique interactions with his serums.
Grisslethorn nods to the group and puts his backpack on the ground. He remains standing, however, but leans casually against a wall instead.
“Yes, sir, we are all here. One might say, “the circus has come to town”. When you contacted my people you said this was an infiltration, which requires finesse - but it seems you have recruited the rest of the crew from a radioactive wasteland or a bankrupt warzone. Sir. Please enlighten us - are we going to a refugee camp, or an insane asylum?”, von Junzt pontificates, looking around the room and smiling at his colleagues. “Calm down, you bunch of murderers. Let’s hear what our busy host has to say - he couldn’t show up in person, but at least the transmission is live. I suppose”, he finishes his cawfee.
Arching his eyebrow at the commentary, "You've never been to a war refugee camp, or a tent city have you then? But yes, I agree, lets listen."
The man on the screen coughs again, takes a drink of water, and says, "Oh, my. So, can everyone see me? No? Should I adjust the lighting? LIGHTS ON ... LIGHTS ON ... Just a second." The man leaves the chair and the room brightens and the shades descend. He sits back down. "There we are. Now everyone can see everyone. Great."
"Glad you all could make it. Any problems finding the place? No? Excellent."
Zellgato puts on a business smile and watches, and internally groans a bit.
But perhaps if all goes well, maybe in the future a useful contact. Depending on if this is his intention, or if he's just a useful kindly middleman.
Szreem shakes his head no in response to the man's question. He wears a patient smile on his face, though they seem slightly impatient with a closer look, as his foot taps the floor slightly.
"I'm not going to ask you to go around the room and introduce yourselves. You will have lots of time to get to know each other. We've got a problem and we need some people we can trust to take care of it and, gentle-people, you're it!"
He pauses and looks at his notes, "In about 30 minutes a convoy of food and medicine is going to stop to recharge at the pylons across the road from where you are. It will be heading to ARIZ-29, a refugee camp in the Rio Grande Recovery Area. We would like you to join the convoy and travel with it to the camps. Let me show you why."
He pauses and presses a few buttons and then a few more and then asks someone for help. Someone comes over and helps, but stays out of camera view. The screen goes dark and then a video appears of a man preaching to a large crowd in what looks like a refugee camp. A woman stands behind him and another man stands at his side. They are dressed in white and, in the bright desert sun, are practically shining. The man waves a datapad over his head while he preaches. People seem to be distributing food from baskets in front of him.
The video continues to play, but Mr. New Washington talks over it, "The Regional Authorities cannot be seen to be interfering in freedom of religion right now. We are committing to gradual restoring Democratic rights to all. However, this cult or religious group is spreading fast. They seem to have started here, but have already spread to other camps and nearby towns. We sent two RAIN agents to investigate. After several weeks, they did not report back in. You can see them standing on stage beside him now. We believe they have been converted to this belief system, whatever it is."
"We wouldn't normally send six people on an infiltration mission, but we do not understand what we are dealing with. We cannot afford another Nevada 7 type incident. If this group is dangerous, we will need to respond. Questions?"
"Perhaps you should specify mission parameters and success/failure conditions?" said Archeron without bothering to look up from his work.
"Perhaps you should specify mission parameters and success/failure conditions?" said Archeron without bothering to look up from his work.
** spoiler omitted **
"Perhaps you should specify mission parameters and success/failure conditions?" said Archeron without bothering to look up from his work.
"Excellent question!" says Mr. New Washington. "Well, if the RAIN agents you see in the video have not been compromised, but have gone off mission for some other reason, provide them with assistance as necessary. If this organization is dangerous enough to justify an incursion into the camps, we will need irrefutable evidence of this. Get that evidence, get out, and get it back to your contact at the diner."
"I've got a question as well.--Did the previous two agents have any specialties in particular? It might lend us a heads up advantage to know."
Hearing the actual mission, Archeron immediately stops what he's doing and begins to backtrack. He disassembles the half-finished weapon and returns it to the case. He then quickly removes his armor and redons his clothing, in the exact opposite way that he put it on: pants and boots first, then replacing his tactical armor with his holster, hoodie, and jacket. He then repacks his pack before finally raising his eyes and looking at the screen.
"I've got a question as well.--Did the previous two agents have any specialties in particular? It might lend us a heads up advantage to know."
"Agent Rena is an extrapath. She can project her emotions onto other people, calming them, making them happy. It allows her to manipulate people by changing how they feel while she talks."
"Agent Burns is an engineer. He was sent under the cover of repairing the water capture and filtration system."
"If the woman has been turned, that might make things rather difficult." Archeron noted off-handedly.
"In 30 minutes! Really? Wow...the planning could have been a bit better..Also," the figure pauses slightly to turn to the android, "Ya' think? I'm glad to know that you can at least make it as a stripper."
The figure scoots along the booth seat and then stands up. They take their hands and push back the hood. It is hard to say what the most disturbing thing about this being. One would argue that the overly wide mouth with the seemingly squashed face, giving it a half frog-like feel. Or the strange donkey ears protruding on each side of the head. It holds up its hands in placation. "I know, I know. I look like some gene spliced pincushion...because I am. But, that's gonna make me fit in. All you fancy faces, your on your own. I get things done, don't get in my way." With that, he walks out of the diner.
After exiting the diner IX climbs into the remains of Penny's and finds a spot to sleep.
“Off goes the Frog Prince, still waiting for the kiss that will release him from his curse…” comments von Junzt, a bit introspective.
“Alright, Sir, let’s make this brief”, he starts enumerating his questions holding just as many fingers:
“First, is this convoy collecting stragglers along the way to the camp? Or should we sneak into the vehicles while they are stationary? Are they guarded, with security forces and or technological barriers?”
“Second, how far away from here is that refugee camp? Is it guarded better than the convoy? Why not just walk into the camp as refugees?”
“Third, should we extract your other agents? Do you have some secret handshake that will identify us as fellow employees from RAIN?”
“Fourth, how much murdering are you expecting for this mission? The Frog Prince doesn’t strike me as much of a negotiator, and Papa Bear might make blonde little children run away in fear.”
“Fifth, what kind of assistance can we expect if the mission is compromised? If we get captured, will you negotiate our ransom? Perhaps sent another team after us?”.
“Sixth. What is actually going on? Sir.”
Zellgato sighs-out loud this time. It was his choice but sometimes he misses his old group. Taking out his note pad and begins taking notes of the questions and answers. Apparently someone is too cool for school-or in this case, breifings.
"For the record, I'd love to avoid wanton murder. That's why I'm not in the military. If they're a##*&$&s who are actually hurting folks? Sure. But a random caravan guard doing his job, less so."
"Excuse me,"[b] Gristlethorn interrupts the human, [b]"But little children absolutely love me. The problem is usually the opposite, it's hard to shake the cubs off when I do something they shouldn't be a party to."
Gristlethorn nods to Zellgato. "Agreed. Good guards are hard to find these days....well I suppose a 'good' anyone is hard to find these days. We need to save as many as possible and encourage them to breed into the population."
Looking over at the screen Gristlethorn addresses 'Mr. New Washington.'
"Do we know anything about the cult's belief system? I'm assuming its not something along the lines of 'kill all the freaks' or you would have picked a different team."
"In 30 minutes! Really? Wow...the planning could have been a bit better..Also," the figure pauses slightly to turn to the android, "Ya' think? I'm glad to know that you can at least make it as a stripper."
"The convoy will arrive in 30 minutes. It will take several hours to recharge. You have some time while they are here."
Szreem waits until "Mr. New Washington has finished answering the other's questions before asking their own, to avoid overwhelming him.
"Is this convoy one that the Regional Authority is sending?
Is it normal for refugees to join food convoys? Even if those refugees are nonhuman?" He glances at Gristlethorn.
"How long had Agents Rena & Burns been working for RAIN?
What do when know about the beliefs of this group? How large is it, and how long has it been around?"
“First, is this convoy collecting stragglers along the way to the camp? Or should we sneak into the vehicles while they are stationary? Are they guarded, with security forces and or technological barriers?”
"It's quite common for refugees to follow food and medicine convoys, particularly since distribution to camps is based on numbers. The convoys don't mind as long as it doesn't become a security problem. If you have skills the convoy might find useful, advertise them; otherwise, quietly slip in among the refugees trailing the convoy."
"Now, we have one contact inside the convoy. She will make herself known to you once you've joined."
“Second, how far away from here is that refugee camp? Is it guarded better than the convoy? Why not just walk into the camp as refugees?”
"The camp will have an advantage to integrate you at the time the convoy arrives to boost their numbers. These numbers get reported back to the donating agencies and justify future larger shipments. We feel the arrival of the convoy is the perfect time for you to get in. "
“Third, should we extract your other agents? Do you have some secret handshake that will identify us as fellow employees from RAIN?”
"Tell them Mother is looking for them. If they question you, tell them mother's name is 3128. That's their handler. But, only share that with them if you believe they are still on mission. By now they should have left the camp and reported back in. That they haven't worries us."
“Fourth, how much murdering are you expecting for this mission? The Frog Prince doesn’t strike me as much of a negotiator, and Papa Bear might make blonde little children run away in fear.”
"Murder is such a harsh word ... but massacre is harsher. We really, really want to avoid another massacre. So, please, gentlepeople, let's keep the body count minimal."
He pauses and reflect, "Say, no more than you can count on your fingers? Does that sound fair?"
“Fifth, what kind of assistance can we expect if the mission is compromised? If we get captured, will you negotiate our ransom? Perhaps sent another team after us?”.
"If the mission is compromised, get out. Get out fast."
“Sixth. What is actually going on? Sir.”
He pauses and then sighs, "I wish I f~*$ing knew."
"Do we know anything about the cult's belief system? I'm assuming its not something along the lines of 'kill all the freaks' or you would have picked a different team."
"You are correct. Many of these camps are notoriously xenophobic. Humans only. Mutants not allowed. The Uplifted, even less so. ARIZ-29 was one of the worst and was controlled by a gang called the Devil's Bridge Brigade. They'd also taken over the nearby town of East Chapel. Shortly after the Children of Gaia showed up among the refugees, everything changed."
"The Devil's Bridge Brigade gave up the camp voluntarily and moved their members to East Chapel turning the camp over to the Children."
"The Devil's Bridge Brigade maintain peace in East Chapel and do preliminary screening for the camp. It's run with military efficiency and has begun submitting medical survey data to the Regional Authorities. How the Children of Gaia turned a gang of bikers into a field hospital, we do not know. I'd like you to ask them."
"Do we know anything about the cult's belief system? I'm assuming its not something along the lines of 'kill all the freaks' or you would have picked a different team."
"Back to your question though, from what we've heard, East Chapel welcomes all, and the notoriously xenophobic Devil's Bridge Brigade is the very sincere welcoming party."
Archeron ignored any comments about his change of attire and instead asked questions of Mr. New Washington:
"Do we have a map of the camp? Anything that resembles numbers of people in the camp, and breakdown by species?"
"Also, what crimes were the biker gang known for? Do we have any information on their membership or leadership? Do they have any enhanced among their numbers?"
"The Devil's Bridge Brigade maintain peace in East Chapel and do preliminary screening for the camp. It's run with military efficiency and has begun submitting medical survey data to the Regional Authorities. How the Children of Gaia turned a gang of bikers into a field hospital, we do not know. I'd like you to ask them."
"Can't tell how much of that was sarcasic about the sincere welcoming party... But if its a field hospital, I can probably poke around--chances are they'll want for another hand. I can't imagine sanitation is up to motel standards."
Von Junzt looks over the counter, trying to find the jar of cawfee left behind by Peggy. "And how much time do we have to complete our mission, Sir?"