Zaviera Zamora's page

Already immersed in navigating the lists of information to rebuild who was where that day, she nodded at the request. "Can do. Suspended and expelled will be easiest to find. I'm already working on identifying who was in the classrooms near the incident. As soon as I get attendance lists, I can search for matching names. Find anything worthwhile?" The two computers were already on and humming, and though she was not in I.T., she was doing a manageable job of divvying up the searches. The lists of expulsions and suspensions were pulled up and Zaviera just handed Rigas the laptop.
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Research: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23

In the van, Zaviera had gotten things set up to her liking, and powered everything on, starting with the preliminary research on the bits of information that could be garnered from the reports.
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Research: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

As the others readied themselves, Zaviera set herself up in the back of the van, utilizing the workstation in the van, and the one that was part of her kit to begin looking at what had been uncovered with the evidence shown. Provided that panned out, she would then began the dull and boring task of filtering through it again. There had to be some links with what happened, so (depending on the access they had been granted) she began looking at the time the incident occurred, and tried tracing the route of damage to try to reconstruct what class was where at the time.

It was likely going to take most of the day just to get that far and start narrowing things down, and all this presumed that the perpetrator was someone that attended the school. Did this school have cameras? Something else to look into. It was going to take a while, but she had time until someone (hopefully no one) got hurt.

The requests for Zaviera were simple, and standard, given her position. Typically, there were three cases that went wherever she did. The first was a medical kit that allowed for treatment of non-life threatening injuries to an individual that was conscious and mobile. The second case was for stabilizing the more serious injuries until the individual could be taken to a hospital. The third was a portable workstation that let her do any spot research. She usually did not see any action until something went wrong.

Until then, she fully expected to be doing background research and tracking down what errant leads they could find unless it reached areas that she could not cover. Stepping up, she took one of the requisitioned firearms and examined it, checking the ammunition and sights, making sure that the weapon was functional. It would get cleaned later when there was little to do.

The guns and their injectors were something that she was familiar with at a glance. She had done some looking into the chemical formula of the drugs and knew how and why they worked. "A note to those of us that will be carrying the guns. You will need to close with the subject to inject them." It was said with an air of stating the obvious, but she had found that emphasizing the potential threat prevented injuries later. "The quantity needed to nullify abilities makes ranged application slightly impractical"

Updated.

Alright, this should be a bit more in-line with the starting specifications, of which I'm assuming that they're semi-new to field work with the PSID? All that remains is Equipment.

Here's my submission for a Field Medic.

"According to Ajax's sensors, we've got one at ten-o'clock high. Second at our one or two-o'clock, is my guess", came Zaviera's voice over the radio. As she spoke, Zaviera leaned out from her cover and took a firing position on one knee to try to precisely spot one of the snipers where the Ajax picked them up.
Perception:1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19; if spotted, then Firing:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14

"Snipers!" Zaviera yells as she breaks cover to move forward. (Move to L-29) Once there, she attempts to patch into the feed from Ajax to take a good look at their forward left quarter, not wanting to step into any of her teammate's line of fire.
Computer Use1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8 ; Perception1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18 -- That is, assuming we have to request the signal, and it isn't available to us immediately.

(Moving up to M-29)

As everyone lined up behind the rock and Mikhail moved, so did Zaviera. "We've got to get around this sensor blackout." Her back to rock once again, she looked at the group, thinking. Once Mikhail put himself into almost blatant visibility, she got an idea. "William, with me. If they're looking at the suit, they're not paying attention."

"Anyway, who wants to go first? I'd volunteer, gallant knight that I am, but wouldn't you know it? I'm kind of anemic."

Zaviera snorted and lightly smacked the back of Alec's head, giving him an amused smirk through her visor. Shouldering her rifle, she took a look around the rock they were currently behind, and then moved from cover. Her not-quite run took her to the next rock in front of them, where she crouched and got a good look from the new vantage point.

I-42 is fine for me

Looking around to orient herself, Zaviera went over tactile inventory as the heat hit her. The transition always weirded her out in VR. You went from the climate controlled room, into the coffin, and then instantly you were somewhere else. Assault rifle, Pistol, Knife. Armor, Helmet. The forearm mounted computer that fed info to her helmet's visor was on her left arm, nowhere near as complex as Jacq's.

The banter between Alec and Mikhail lets her know that they're here even before she finishes her inspection, and settling herself, she glances around the landscape bemusedly, before testing the info display on her visor, getting a reading on the temperature, wind speed, and elevation, as well as the range finder and PoV feed from her rifle.

"On the clock and Green", she said, her version of 'All set and ready to go'. She immediately began surveying their immediate area. "Any outside chatter?"

"Acknowledged, sir." Zaviera had been considering the tactical benefits of having access to a plasma rifle, or the Reaper cannon, but without knowing more about what they were going into, or more study of tactics, it was probably for the better.. She was going to be looking to Alec and Jacq for the core of the planning, anyways.

Walking over to the coffin with her name on it, she waited for the techs to set her up before getting in.

"Do we requisition equipment now, sir?" Zaviera changed her focus from straight ahead to the Lieutenant.

"Finally", Zaviera said with a tone of anticipation in her voice. She tossed her cards face-up on the table. Ten of Hearts, Ten of Diamonds. Standing, she finished off the bottle in a trio of seconds, and set it on the table. "This is why I wasn't drinking, Mik. See you all there."

Striding out of the room, she headed back to her room, to change into the regulation indigo top for casual dress, and thought about the team.

Chaz was still down for reasons that were freezer-caused, and if he was not running the Gauntlet with them, she was counting him out of the running for all intents and purposes. If they got assigned a replacement "Sword", she would be pleased, but integrating them into the team would take time. Sir Bill was enough to deal with right now.

Speaking of William, she had pulled up what she could access of his files and looked them over. She supposed he covered the mid-range, if semi-covert actions, but anything else he was purported to be capable of, she was unsure whether they would be able to even be conceptualized in the simulator. Unknown.

Mikhail, if he was in the driver's seat of anything, she did not worry about. Dismounted, he could hold behind her. No worries.

Jacquelin and Alec she counted together, since between the two of them, there was likely no problem that they could encounter that could not be resolved given enough time. Jacq was ahead of Alec just for how well she could handle herself in a fight. Hell, she'd seen her spray autofire rather accurately on the range much better than even she could at current. As long as they were out of any major danger, they could hack it.

Reflexively, she checked her sidearm and examined her knife before she left, feeling herself settling into that state of calm where everything non-essential was discarded. Game face. Game time.

She arrived at the room five minutes before they were due.

"And sometimes it just isn't in the cards." Eyeing Mikhail's former hand, Zaviera managed to keep the amused smirk on her face to a minimum, covering it with another swallow of the "beer". She made a face after, but shrugged, looking at the bottle. "I'd rather drink my regimen than have it injected. Además, the white-coats said something about 'proper saturation'."

One hand tapped her forearm in illustration, and the sound of her finger was somewhat different, but one had to listen closely. "Ups my survivability -- which ups our survivability. Downside? Occasional chemical maintenance, monitoring, blah blah blah..."

She tossed a chip in. "Raise."

A shake of the head came from Zaviera, who was leaning back in her chair, looking at the cards she had in her hand neutrally. She was in her usual version of "dressed down", which was a sports bra, the UNSC grey fatigues and her combat boots. Her pistol was on a thigh holster, and her knife was sheathed at the small of her back. "Not much", she said with a shrug, reaching out to take a sip of the "beer" that she was allowed during training. "A nutritious, tailored substitute", she had once said. 'Tastes exactly how you would think it does, too.' "Mikhail's losing as usual, Sir William's doing that 'wriggly-thing' with his mind, and I'm up a bit."

She tilted her head back to bare her teeth in what could be mistaken for a grin at William, and took another swig from her bottle. The nanofiber armor plates underneath her skin stood out somewhat, a slight raising of the skin if one knew where to look. "Not going to be happy until you can talk to el mundo, eh?" The book in Alec's hand got a glance, and then she returned her eyes to the cards. Even she forgot how many languages he could speak.

("Nutra-Beer!™ None of the bad, all of the good, and then some!)

Zaviera spends the two weeks pushing herself back into shape with conditioning, not that she (theoretically) ever lost it, training with all the weapons that would be available to them on their mission. When not excersing, she spends some study time on tactics, and a little time handing Alec tools while he works, trying to pick up what she can. ((Alec Radio)) Most of her mechanical experience was limited to very small things, like disassembling weapons, and not many of those.

She's there, front and center at the card game every time. At the end of the two weeks, it was practically a daily ritual.

Zaviera smiles at the banter going on, but does not contribute anything, finding the situation pretty understandable. They return, evaluate, and find (or make) space for those that will be returning. The return was pretty inevitable, most likely. Putting the beret onto her head, she does not even crack a smile as she murmurs over to Alec, "'Thousand and twenties'. You're perfectly legit for going senile momentarily..."

'Real clothes! Finally! No more paper-towel scrubs!' since the stop was only long enough to get some real clothes on, Zaviera showed up to the briefing, wearing a pair of monochrome fatigues in the UNSF gunmetal gray and the standard form-fitting (but supporting) shirt in indigo, covering her to her wrists, and what looked like a watch in black steel. Her cover was in her hand, her short hair hanging loose. On the end of her collar was the silver pin of a heater shield, the UNSF emblem raised in the center.

It felt good to be up and moving again, not that she remembered being out of it, just the going to sleep and waking up part. Her sidearm and equipment stayed where it was-- in her room --since this was just a briefing. At the commanders welcome, she saluted, grinning. "Done with the R&R, Commander, sir?"

Zaviera smirks at Alec's comment. "'Two of five comets', says the 'Space Review'; 'That man needs a sandwich and a workout pass', says the 'Ship Weekly'", she murmured, not looking directly at him. She goes to retrieve the gun she tossed, handing it to Alec before sinking down to lean against the wall like him.

Leaning her head back against the wall, she closed her eyes. "Definitely one hell of a 'welcome back'."

"Five down in total, one wounded on our team, one casualty ascertained so far, sir." She began, taking his approach as a good sign and snapping off a salute once she stood. "Jacq," she called. "How many are wounded in there?" She relaxed a bit, but did not move to retrieve the gun yet.

"Whoawhoawhoa! Hold your fire! Hold your fire!", Zaviera shouts, tossing the gun to the side, then raising her hands and lowering herself to the ground. "Specialist Zamora, UNSF Shield! Hold your fire!"

Almost smacking herself in the head for her oversight, Zaviera stands from her examination of the Soldier, and heads back outside to Alec's wheelchair and wheels it closer, setting the brakes with quick motions before unceremoniously hefting the unconscious man, and going about strapping him in. "It'll do in a pinch", she shrugged, wheeling him into the room he came out of. Once there, she used some of the restraints she found in there to make doubly sure he was in that chair.

Finding the nearest terminal, she tried to access it, giving her name and rank, wanting to at least find out what the status of the ship was. If she could manage it, she also wanted the status of how many people were up and about on this ship, and most importantly, where their CO was.

She snorted at Alec's comment. "Amen, brother. Me, I want some gear on us. These scrubs are for patients."

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
(3)Use Computer checks: 1d20 ⇒ 9; 1d20 ⇒ 4; 1d20 ⇒ 11

Relieving the unconscious man of his weapons, Zaviera checks the pistol and its ammunition as she walks into the doorway of the other room. "Buenos días my ass", she muttered. The scalpel got set on the nearest upright surface as she headed towards the downed soldier, intent on searching him. That unconscious man was getting hogtied.

She hated these scrubs. To her, it felt like she was wearing a paper towel, and the stupid "booties" that they had on their feet were just plain -- well, stupid. The "subduing" of the crazy guy was certainly becoming less "subdue", and more "beatdown", but Zaviera was anything if not expedient, and mildly upset, though it certainly was not showing now.

Mikhail should not have been the one to take those hits before her, and she wanted the one that did it neutralized.

"Cabrón", she hissed between clenched teeth, delivering another kick to the man's head.
Atk:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15 Dmg:1d4 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6nonlethal

A muttered curse was Zaviera's response to the gunshot, and as Mikhail pins the man to the ground, her solution to the situation is that of a swift kick to the head. Inelegant and efficient, but deeply satisfying as well as being her first response.

Atk:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10 Dmg:1d4 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4nonlethal

Only then does she realize that disarming the man may be the better approach, but in this case, they could disarm him when he was unconscious. The bastard had already hurt enough people.

With Mikhail and Alec on the hostile, Zaviera felt pretty certain about following Jacq along to the inside doorway of the room just vacated for the moment, taking in the loss of life and evidence of violence with a sweeping glance. Though it had only been a few seconds, there were no alarms sounding off, so she worked on the assumption that there were so very few people available to handle this.

Medical assistance was not quite in her training. "Alec, disengage!", she called, intending to step in once he did. "Give Jacq a hand, we switch!"

Zaviera's assessment of the situation had undergone a revision in the span of a few seconds as the orderlies fled, save for that one. That one was the only reason bad things had not happened to her team yet. With Mikhail out, and Alec free, that only left Jacq, who looked like she was still stuck.

It only took a moment to get herself free, and a second to get over to Jacq, glancing up at the head of the line with Mikhail and Alec while she started undoing her restraints. "C'mon girl", she teased. "Think we're going to let you sit around?"

Perception1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20
Zaviera looked around the place, unable to help but feel like something was even more off as they were wheeled through the empty hall. It was not pleasant.

Initiative1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
When the doctor's explanation was cut off by the crazed man, Zaviera was not going to waste any time waiting for the guards to remove her restraints.. So she broke them.

Perception Take 10= 13
'Only one man to twelve. Restraints are a problem. No mobility. No weapons. Remove restraints. Get weapons.' The scrubs that she was wearing currently were unsatisfactory, but that would have to be changed later.

Mikhail's comment earned a raised eyebrow, and her hard grin turned into a quiet smirk, opening her mouth to say something that was interrupted by Alec's rant, making her smother a chuckle and roll her eyes. "Dio", she sighed, then bared her teeth a little at Alec and sweetly commented, "I'd only scare the docs if I broke 'em. You're not worth getting tranq'd over."

Zaviera started chuckling once Alec made himself known. Chatterbox, likely to get himself and others into trouble, but if they had a mascot, he'd probably be it. She faked a groan, but looked over to him with a hard grin. "Glad t'see you're up, compadre. Seemed too quiet."

--The doctor goes quiet for a moment, as do all the other doctors in the room, who drop what they're doing.
-- He pauses for a moment before continuing. "So far, that's what we're showing."

Something was not quite right, it seemed. When 2M tried to move, that was when she noticed the restraints, on him and herself. She tried to catch Jacq's attention, giving a frown and a tilt of her head at the doctor, trying to figure out what was going on. Maybe the straps were precautions. Maybe everything was okay. If that was the case, they'd be getting orders soon. Flexing her hands, she tested her restraints, more to stretch her muscles than try to break out. No full-body stretch, but it would have to do. While she did, she looked at the doctor in front of her curiously. "So doc, what's with the nerves? Something go wrong with the others?"
Strength check1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22

Place. Person. Human-- She could already understand what the doctor was saying, so she listened to him with half an ear, mentally answering, while her eyes darted around the-- bay? Some things were and were not coming back to her. The things that did were promptly answered, in a precise tone. Habit, she guessed. The disorientation she focused on pushing away, grounding herself. Another habit, she guessed.

'Name?' "--Zamora.. Zaviera Esperanza Zamora."

'Age?' At that she had to frown in slight confusion as the answer did not come where there should have been one. "..Old enough?"

'Where are you now?' The answer came in segments as more of her mental processes put themselves together. "Bay. Medically associated. Organizationally controlled."

'How do you feel?' "--Capable." Which was enough of the truth, despite the lingering sense of confusion, and the inklings of what was likely to be a pretty fair headache.. She would make a mention if it got worse than she could tolerate.

While the doctor (she guessed) continued his checklist, she turned her head --and popped her neck as she did-- looking over the soldiers that stood behind each of them, and the others nearby. Interesting reception. The sounds of several others answering at once made for an interesting bit of a brain-thought-jumble as they got sorted out, pieces of recollection fluttering back with their voices.

Then Jacq and Zaviera would have most definitely gone out for drinks as a way seeing who was tougher. =D

I am. Was waiting for the start.

Indeed. *competent grin*