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Operation: Warden


"What is the point?"

Blinking in surprise over the question Jacquen immediately opens his mouth to reply to his friend only to find that he didn't have an answer or at least not one that one that he felt would satisfy even him.
He'd never questioned why exactly it was the done thing to get revenge against those that had wrong you? it was just the done thing, if somebody insulted you or questioned your honour you drew their blood and if they murdered one of your kin then they either paid the blood price or you slew one of their kin it was just how Sicariun society worked...and yet he couldn't help but wonder if it was the right way after all?
Troubled by the treasonous thoughts stirring within his head Jacquen shrugs his shoulders with a defeated air "What else is this one to do? This one can no longer go home because of them" Sicarius was exactly the most pleasant of places to live and was practically mediaeval technology wise but it was his home and they had taken it away from him just to further their own twisted power games and save their own reputations, with a few words they had destroyed his very existence and for that they needed to pay.
Getting up of off the floor he follows Jack out into the corridor and watches as his friend rests is head against the wall looking thoroughly miserable as he spoke of his mistrust of Hayes "We don't need to trust him Jack...we just need his arms and money, once we have them if need be we can leave...go to Volantis and find people of our own" he doubted any of the others would join them when they left...perhaps the Vortag ox could be persuaded and Tom would probably do it if enough money was offered but not the others they were all far too straight laced and loyal to the collective especially the Kriken a mindless tool for the collective and Kriken Empire alike...no they would be on their own in this.
"Come Jack this one will watch your back...what else have you to lose by joining them?"


Thank you, Councilor,” Rolf responded, while giving a salute. “I’ll be back before supper tomorrow. If you don’t mind, I’d rather have the possessions I have here placed at your estate. I’ll only have an overnight bag.” After everything was arranged, Rolf went through his possessions, packing a change of clothes, a sponge bag, and a few keys. Donning a pair of sun goggles, and a fedora, Rolf said his last goodbyes to the group, before heading out into Eroes Prime proper.

Checking the newsfeed, Rolf was relieved to find that news hadn’t yet reached the public of ODS 3’s discharge. Arriving at the hotel he had already booked a night at, Rolf headed up to his room, and threw his bag down. There were some phone calls he had to make. Transferring the videocall to the hotel room’s FSD, Rolf dialed Ilsa, still back at home in Danzig. “Hello, Ilsa? You there darling?” What came next was a total surprise.

“Look who’s bold enough to call,” Ilsa began. “Do you realize you just threw away your entire life? We got the news a few minutes ago, and everyone here is angry as hell! Why did you get yourself kicked out of the PCC? Your family is thinking about disowning you, but they can’t do much more than cut you off from getting more family money. You’re lucky your dad is sympathetic. You’re still a Knight, and he’s managed to keep the news of the discharge quiet. What you have right now, though, is it. Well, when I say right now, I mean after I break up with you.” Before Rolf could say anything, Ilsa ended the call.

“That was a strange turn of events,” Rolf spoke to the room. After taking a shower, Rolf slept for a few hours, woke up, slept for a few hours more, then woke up again. He just couldn’t stay asleep. The restlessness he felt from not having to do military work, along with the shock of Ilsa breaking up with him combined to give Rolf a potential case of insomnia. After trying sleep again, but failing, Rolf checked his watch, found it was late enough, and headed to a diner for breakfast.

After breakfast, Rolf wandered the streets for most of the day, looking at shops, stopping for lunch in another diner, looking in more shops, reading news, watching some games, and other various activities to keep himself busy. Around 1700, Rolf got a message from James, giving the all clear for meeting at the Blackout Bar. When he entered, Rolf overlaid UV night vision over his sun goggles, and soon found Lieutenant James Sobel. He was a Sicariun, who, upon entering the PCC, decided to take a name that was easier to pronounce for many of the various species under the Collective banner.

“Rolf, glad to see you again,” James said, and handed him a pint of ale. “Sit down with me, and talk.” Rolf did so, and explained to James what had happened, from finding the information, to their discharges. Rolf left out Councilor Hayes’s offer, and the family issues, but other than that, told the story true. “That’s very interesting. I’ll investigate this when I get back to the Warden. You have a copy of the files with you?” Rolf nodded, and sent James a copy of the zipped files of Vanguard Adaris, the Slaver. “I’ll see you later James,” Rolf said, getting up from the table. “I have to leave now.” James waved at Rolf. “I wish we could have met under better circumstances. Meet up with me again next time I’m in port, alright?” Rolf nodded, and exited the bar.

Arriving at Councilor Hayes’s estate a little bit later, Rolf rang the doorbell, and spoke into the microphone built into the doorbell. “It’s Rolf here, back in time for supper, just like I said I would.”


"Come Jack this one will watch your back...what else have you to lose by joining them?"

Those words ran through Jack's mind, like a great freight train. What did he have to lose? Jack turned towards the Sicariun, looking slightly down at his friend. His eyes spoke volumes, as he let his gaze go to the pistol still upon the desk. From where he stood, he could clearly read the name engraved across the barrel, it sat right next to Tasha's picture -- almost beckoning him.

Without a word, Jack walked back to the desk. He reached out and took the pistol by the grip. The grips - which Tasha only touched once in awhile, on the few days she spent with him at the gun range down the street from here, Jack's EC cycled the memory of the day she had first hit the target with the tremendous hand cannon, the outline of her eyes under the opaque glass of her mask crinkled with happiness and she clapped her hands in delight, unintentionally pointing the weapon to the side and causing everyone but Jack to yell and skitter away - felt good in his grip, the weapon's bulk almost unnoticeable after so many years of toting the Rampart. He safed the weapon and assumed a firing position -- looking down the sights at the far wall. The engraving upon the barrel glinted in the overhead lighting.

The worst that could happen would be Jack's death. Jack's death, fighting -- it had been what he'd wanted to begin with. Looking back over his shoulder at Jacquen, who stared at him, Jack nodded "Alright, my friend. Let them tremble before us." Jack kept the hand cannon and picked up Tasha's picture moving to the hallway, passing Jacquen "Come with me if you like, I have to take a few things."

Entering the bedroom, Jack sat back down at the foot of the bed he shared with Tasha. As he reached down into the closet and ruffled around some more, Jack could remember the day he had packed all this into the closet. Alone, and behind the protective barrier that shielded their home, Tasha had let her bodysuit fall upon the back of a chair in the living room and wore only an under dress that barely reached her hips, the light played off her purple tinted skin and made Jack want to bury his face in the nape of her neck. She talked excitedly in that accent he loved so much about the baby they were going to adopt together, as they sat their newest purchases inside the closet -- slowly burying the pistol, and - even deeper inside the closet - Jack's war bag.

It was his war bag that Jack now searched for. He pulled out all sorts of strange equipment from the depths of the baby closet. Everything from outfits for a Quarian child to monitoring equipment and formula bottles. He couldn't help but look at some of them, and run his hands over the boxes they came in -- imagining what his life should be right now. By all rights, Jack should be unpacking all these things to set up in the room just down the hall. Tasha should be asleep under the covers behind him, turning and talking in her sleep like she did, her sweet voice comforting him.

Jack bitterly piled all the unopened boxes just outside the closet door, the pile growing higher and thicker, until he finally unearthed the war bag. He pulled it up by the straps that would go over your shoulder and sat it upon the bed. Inside, he took a leather contraption that he wonder if Jacquen would recognize. It was a shoulder holster, for a heavy hand cannon, under the holster was a sheath, and inside the sheath was a huge knife. The weighty kind of knife that could slip between armor and skin as easily as it could slice an apple. Jack looked over Tasha's pistol one more time, before he reached under his arm and slid it into the holster, it almost felt like a comforting hand upon the side of his chest.

He spoke as he went back to the closet and started putting the boxes back inside "After this we can head back."


Jacquen watched curiously as his friend seemed to have some kind of a revelation, the Sicariun quietly waiting to see if his attempts to persuade his friend to take a different path had succeeded.
"Alright, my friend. Let them tremble before us." a large grin spread across the Sicariun's face upon hearing those words speaking "May the Nightmother take them all" in reply before following him into the bedroom and watching with mild interest as Jack pulled out a collection of boxes some of which despite their alien nature he recognised as babies things in search of something, no doubt there was another story just as dark as the one he'd heard attached to those small brightly coloured objects but Jacquen had pried into Jacks private life deep enough and some things were best left unsaid.
Eventually Jack seemed to find what he was looking for dragging out a large khaki coloured bag and some kind of bandolier with a large heavy bladed knife hanging from it. Nodding his head in agreement Jacquen waited patiently as whilst his friend tidied away the other things before following him out of the apartment and onto the streets outside the crowds considerably thinner than they had been whilst he'd been trying to track Jack down.
Entering the lift Jacquen punches in the numbers that would take them back up to counsellor Hayes' private hanger before settling himself against the lifts wall "This one suggests we lie about what we've discussed...this one suggests we were in a bar?" not only did he figure that Jack wouldn't want to share his story with the others let alone Hayes but also Jacquen was worried that if they learnt how close his friend had come to shooting himself then they would refuse him a position within the platoon on medical grounds.
Upon reaching the hangar it didn't take them long to discover that Hayes and the others has already departed for his private residence where they were staying until their ship would be ready "Well these ones can either go to Hayes' and stay there or find somewhere else and meet them in the morning" he said with a shrug of his shoulders in a way that told Jack that the choice in this particular matter was entirely his.


The leather straps buckled over his chest and torso easily, the weight of Tasha's pistol against his side was comforting, and even motivating to Jack, as he finished packing away the last of the boxes. He let his hand linger on the final box, just laying upon the top of the box, it hurt him to do this that much was obvious.

"Alright. I'll grab the magazines to my weapon and we can go." Jack went back into the living room, where he had kicked the magazine for his pistol towards Jacquen a few minutes ago. He scooped the fifteen round magazine from the floor and pulled Tasha's pistol from the holster with the other hand. Jack gently pushed the magazine into the well of the pistol before putting it back into the holster.

His war bag was still in his grip, as Jack passed Tasha's picture upon the desk. He turned it over in his hands, the glass glinting in the light, throwing some flecks of light over his face. Laying the bag out on the desk, Jack opened the zipper and looked inside. He rifled around before pulling out a dense looking jet black turtle neck sweater. When the sweater was laid out upon the table as well, Jack sat Tasha down in the middle of the garment and slowly folded it around her picture, her face disappearing from view. Jack put her inside the bag, on top of all the military equipment inside so it could not be harmed.

It was as Jack was about to close the bag and follow Jacquen out of his apartment, that his eye caught something upon the mantle that he hadn't seen since that final horrible day in the hospital. Sitting upon the mantle, propped up against the wall, was the smooth purple face mask Tasha wore outside. It was just the armor glass insert and the apparatus that sealed it to the helmet of her bodysuit, but it made Jack's heart stop for a moment and lay dead -- as if the very sight of it had instantly killed him. His heart only began beating again after he took the first step towards it, hidden behind the pictures upon the mantle.

He took the face plate down and held it in both his hands, he stroked where Tasha's cheek would be under the glass -- his mind traveling back over the years to the day he'd first pressed the button on the back of the suit to allow the mask to be lifted away. Jack turned in his tracks and went back to his bag, he was about to stuff the mask inside, when he moved it in such a way as to dislodge a small chip that had been laying upon the purple cloth wrapping it. The chip tumbled to the desk under him and Jack stared at it for a long moment - wondering what it was - before he picked it up. He slipped the chip inside his pants pocket, as he gingerly put Tasha's mask inside his war bag, stroking it once more before closing the bag again.

As Jack lifted his war bag from the desk and looped it over his shoulder, grabbing a nearby jacket to obscure the pistol that rode under his shoulder, above the magazine pouch that held the weapon's other three magazines, he felt energized. Emotions that he had not felt since Tasha's death shot through him, white hot anger, a motivation that seeped into every fiber of his being and an iron determination came over him. He and Jacquen would see that Hakron Adaris paid. Jack opened and then shut the apartment with his EC as they left, the door cycling closed and locking in place -- sealing his past, at least until the mission was over. It was time for war.

Half an hour later, Jack and Jacquen stood inside Councilor Hayes' private warehouses, looking about themselves in confusion. The crew were all gone, as was Hayes himself -- only his private bodyguards remained. After questioning one of the guards, they determined that the Councilor had taken the crew back to his private residence up on the Councilor Rings.

"Well these ones can either go to Hayes' and stay there or find somewhere else and meet them in the morning"

Jack chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment in thought, before he looked at Jacquen "We don't know what time they'll be back here in the morning, it's not too late" Jack looked at the clock displayed on his EC to confirm this "it would be best to head to his house. Call the shuttle, please." Jack said to the bodyguard, who nodded and began chattering away upon his own EC.

And in no time, Jack and Jacquen stepped off Hayes' private shuttle again and stood before the tremendous doors. "So this is the home of Councilor Hayes." Jack whistled to Jacquen "I'm surprised he hasn't grown soft."


"This one doesn't get paid enough" Jacquen said in quiet wonder upon seeing Councillor Hayes luxuriant residence, though come to think of it as of this morning he wasn't being paid at all at least not by the collective.
Approaching the doors, the sightless eyes of two security camera's watching their every move, he presses the button for the intercom causing it to make an irritating buzzing noise before a female voice answered with a pre-rehearsed speech "Servicemen Vhassa and Carlye to see Councillor Hayes...he should be expecting us" he replied warily leaning his head in close to the speaker, not through any desire for privacy but through his complete unfamiliarity with the device, standing up straight once more he looks over to Jack and shrugs "This one prefers speaking to people" he said in way of an explanation.
After several minutes of the two of them awkwardly stood outside the intercom buzzes and the same female voice announces that Hayes would be happy to see them, the two large doors silently swinging open to allow them entrance.
Having spent nearly his entire serving life either in ships quarters or shared barracks accommodation Jacquen had never seen or could imagine a home as large or luxurious as Hayes; the high ceilinged hallway lit with wall mounted sconces in order to highlight the tastefully selected pieces of sculpture and art that stood upon pedestals against magnolia painted walls and a deep red carpet.
Dressed in civilian attire Councillor Hayes walks down the broad, dark wood staircase like an aristocrat from a long forgotten age a smile coming to his face as he spied the two former drop troopers "Ah gentlemen I had almost given up on you joining us, come let me give you the tour and then I'll show you to the others" eager to learn the secrets of this strangely decadent place, though admittedly he had nothing to compare it to, Jacquen was more than happy to be shown around all thoughts of revenge momentarily put aside at least until he'd finished looking around anyway.


And what a grand tour it was. Hayes lead them through lavishly anointed living rooms and decadent dining rooms. The house was so large that it needed more than one kitchen, or the food might grow cold on the journey to the table, these places were stainless steel fortresses that shone bright against the overhead lighting -- Jack wondered how many servants it took just to keep it shining like it did. Tennis and basketball courts were obvious, along with a gym that made the gym aboard their old ship look like a 20 credit hotel's gym, every machine for sculpting the perfect battle-ready body was in appearance -- as well as a firing range and locked down armory that held cases upon cases of glistening weapons. Hayes either spoke with reverence - of the gym and kitchen areas - or disgust, which was reserved for the lavish areas like the kitchen and living spaces.

Finally they came to the rooms they would be spending the night in. These had actual doors that opened inwards, Hayes opened it to let the pair look inside. Each room was the same; a king sized bed with perfectly arranged bedclothes stood in the middle, next to a nightstand that held a free standing display attached to a computer that was everything from a communications device to an entertainment center. The carpet was a rich burgundy color in Jack's room, running all the way to the open door to the tiled bathroom that he would share with the room next to him -- which was Jacquen's. A few chairs sat at a low coffee table in the corner. "These will be your rooms." Hayes gestured grandly "I knew you would show, Carlyle, so I took the liberty of bringing in your suit. The same is true of yours, Jacquen, they will arrive after dinner."

So it was that the now disgraced crewmen of ODS 3 sat down to dinner with one of the most powerful single men in the known universe. Trace, Jacquen, Rolf - who showed up just before the cooks were ready -, Jefferson, Vortag and the Old Man all sat around a table and ate better than they had in years. Every possible course was prepared -- even specialty courses from the non-humans' homeworlds.

As the eating began to die down and desserts were served for the crew to pick at, Hayes began to speak to the group as a whole "Thank you for accepting my offer, gentlemen, you have no idea the service you are doing. Vanguard Adaris has always been one to bend rules when people were looking, and to outright break them when they weren't -- I expect the same from you, but in service to the Collective, not to yourselves." Hayes paused to take a slice of cheesecake from a platter in front of him. "It is quite obvious to me that Adaris can no longer be allowed his Vanguard Status -- whatever the other councilors believe. We now have the means to make this come to pass and with your help it will happen.

"I took the liberty of scanning the Collective data storage and got my hands upon the files you recovered. After some thought, I have decided where you will be going first -- though where you go afterwards will be decided by you when you reach and accomplish the first objective." Hayes stood from his chair and tapped on the FSD that appeared before him. A star chart hovered in the middle of the table - above the food. Around a single planet were four red arrows pointing down planet side "This is Nova." Hayes announced "It's in fringe space, and thus does not come under Collective law. In essence this planet is in a state of anarchy -- the strong prey upon the weak and the weak must either bend knee or die. This is exactly the sort of place where Adaris would open bank accounts -- there are no laws here and thus the security is tight and no questions are asked about where your credits came from."

"What help could talking to a bunch of Anarchist bankers help in finding Adaris?" Vortag piped up, his jaws and the front of his shirt covered in food that he dropped and did not care enough to pick up.

"I was just getting to that." Hayes magnified the planetary model so only Nova was displayed "As much as it may seem so -- I do not have unlimited funds. This means that I could only fund you in the field for a few weeks at the most, and that would be while selling everything I have accrued in my life. And the bulk of Vanguard Adaris's money has been stored on a world with no law and no recourse should a group of highly trained, well equipped soldiers decide to take it from him." Hayes smiled "Not that I advise this, of course, whatever you do once aboard the ship I have no control over. Though it would be nice if someone could cut off his profits.

"And it would also be nice if, once you were there, that you had a word with the banker that handles all of his transactions -- he would probably know where Adaris last took funds."

Hayes put his hands to either side of himself, holding himself up on the table "Do I make myself clear?"

Lord Regal

Well-Known Member
Trace had been shown to his room upon his arrival, and was then left alone per his request. The room was quite decadent, and everything in it was new and confusing to Trace. The Krikens deplored anything not absolutely required to survive, calling it a way to succumb to weakness. However, everything he had heard about the commander said he had not done this, despite the luxury around him. Clearly it wasn't so black and white...he needed more data to be sure about this claim now.

He joined the others for dinner, according to the commander's wishes. This was the first time he had ever joined the others for a meal, as eating required he remove his visor, something considered indecent in his culture. One only did it with those you knew well, or those who weren't offended by it. A Kriken military unit would have visors removed, but in an integrated group, the decent thing to do was to leave it on. Clearly though, the commander felt it was ok, and as his superior, he would follow the implied order.

Reaching up with both arms, he pressed the latches open, popping the mask off. Underneath the visor, his face was somewhat grotesque by human standards. His single eye took up the majority of it, the orb glowing yellow and lacking any visible pupil or iris. His mouth was small by comparison, constantly moving, not quite insectile but still making clicking noises. He kept his head down, not sure of if he had made the right move.

He didn't taste the food he ate, just as always. There was no need for enjoying the meal, only the sustenance it provided mattered. As soon as he was finished he replaced his visor, feeling indecent and unclean compared to the plain faces around him. It was then that the commander outlined his plan, though making sure not to give a direct order. Here was a man who understood his tactics. When he had finished, Trace simply nodded. It sounded straightforward to him. Something was bothering him though, and he decided to speak up. "...Sir...I had a personal, one man Kriken warship. Is there any way you could procure that for me?" The use of the honorific still seemed foreign to him, but he wasn't about to deny a true warrior his rightful title.


Frank went with Hayes and having arrived was shown to his room. He called several mates disguising his location and told them that he was out of the service. He said he was going to do a mercenary job and that they didn't need to worry. He knew that within all likelihood they would cut all connections with him. None of them wanted his reputations staining theirs. He couldn't blame them for that. He would probably do the same in their position. He went down to diner and the food was great. Frank generally wasn't a connoisseur of fine foods but even he knew that this was superb. He heard Haye's presentation and smiled. He heard Traces request and smiled. If the answer was a yes he would suggest something. A plan was beginning to form in his head. "Sir, would you by any chance have a 3D or 2D schematics for the bank? If so I may have a plan."


Jacquen could barely take it all in as he walked around the large residence with Hayes showing them every room within; it was completely unlike anything he'd ever seen before in his life.
With the tour finished he joined the others in the large dining room where he ate what was possibly the best meal he'd ever had as the various courses were brought out although some of the traditional earth dishes weren't to his liking as they seemed to involve far more vegetable matter than he would have liked he was overjoyed when he saw the large scorpion like creature set before him; a delicacy from his home world, his long dextrous fingers cracking open it chitinous shell to get at the soft white meat within although for some strange reason none of the others seemed to want any?
With the meal over Jacquen sat quietly as the others chose from a selection of sweet sticky things whilst Hayes laid out his proposed plan to relieve Adaris of his funds in order to in turn fund their own semi-legal organisation. Upon hearing the plan Jacquen cast Jack a furtive glance to see if he'd reached the same conclusion that he had about siphoning some of it into their own pockets in order to pursue their own agenda on a later date.
"Is this one correct in thinking that should things...backfire then all knowledge of these ones will be denied?" he spoke sensing the double edged nature of the mission, knowing that if indeed things did go wrong then they would be left to the mercies of the anarchists in short they had better not fail.


Tom was pleasantly surprised at the luxury of his new quarters, provided by Hayes, following the others, he moved to the dining meal, where after consuming some decent food (much unlike the garbage that was standard issue aboard Collective ships), Hayes outlined the assignment that the former members of ODS 3 would be given.
Tom scratched his chin throughout, and as the others began to ask questions, Tom reviewed the plan on his EC, it seemed simple enough, a hit and run insertion and extraction to obtain or destroy Adaris' wealth.
As Jacquen finished asking his question, Tom raised his own; "Sir, what about opposition? How many guards will there be, and with what level of equipment?"


The door was answered, and Rolf entered, thanking the servant. As he was led to the dining hall, Rolf took in the house. It was huge, and filled with mementoes and collectibles and antiques, lots of things. And Rolf suspected that there was much more to the house than what he saw. Even though he had grown up in a similar setting, Councilor Hayes’s house made Rolf’s familial homes seem like shanties. He arrived to the dining hall, just as the meal was about to be served. And what a meal it was. It contained many, many courses from various places. Rolf was delighted to even see the humble currywurst and döner kebap as appetizers. After the meal, the real business began.

Councilor Hayes explained to the group that, even though he had money to spare, he couldn’t support ODS 3’s black ops for more than a few weeks. So, Councilor Hayes outlined a plan that boiled down to breaking into a bank in an anarchist planet, and stealing Vanguard Adaris’s money. As Rolf chewed on a piece of lokum, he thought about this plan. If it were to be carried out in any civilized world, the plan would be illegal. Rolf didn’t like performing illegal actions. He did deviate from the book, but he always stayed within the law, as best he could. Since this action was taking place on an anarchist world, there were no laws governing it, except those perverted forms of Darwinian logic. As such, Rolf felt it was alright for him to participate in the action.

Some of the others gathered began asking questions, about procuring personal tech, schematics, what would happen if they failed, the potential opposition they would face. Rolf stepped in. “I believe that in this case, the best thing would be stealth. After studying the plans of the bank, we insert ourselves, and take the money, and the banker that deals with Adaris’s funds, and get out, while causing as little commotion as we can. If we raise enough attention upon ourselves, we could be facing an entire planet. I would rather not have to kill that many men if I can help it.”


"...Sir...I had a personal, one man Kriken warship. Is there any way you could procure that for me?

Sitting back in his chair, putting a hand to his chin and scraping at the whiskers growing there, Hayes thought for a long moment. It would be difficult to get an entire ship out of Kriken space - especially a warship - but not even Krikens were not immune to certain kinds of grease. Hayes reached forward with his fork and took a bit of his cheesecake, popping it into his mouth and swallowing before he replied "I'll see what I can do, Trace, no promises and I doubt I could get it here before you leave for Nova."

"Sir, would you by any chance have a 3D or 2D schematics for the bank? If so I may have a plan."

"One moment, let me pull the schematics up for all to see."

The hologram of the planet was replaced by that of a vaguely pyramidal building. There were three floors, the bottom floor was a basement and housed multiple armories, a barracks for the night guards and the vault itself. The top was a lobby area, where the citizens of Nova would come in to deposit their credits and wait to speak with the bankers, who worked on the third floor. The third floor was a maze of office suites, employee lunch rooms and watercoolers.

"Sir, what about opposition? How many guards will there be, and with what level of equipment?"

Hayes mumbled an "Ahh, yes." under his breath as he tapped on the display that encircled his arm like a bracer. A moment later red dots began to appear across the 3 dimensional hologram that floated above the table. There were a pair of glowing orbs to either side of the front entrance to the bank, as well as a pair on the side entrance. Groups of guards waited around in the antechamber of the vault itself, and in the offices on the third floor about twenty dots were present -- each on a scheduled patrol that took them through the office. "Equipped with rifles substantially better than Collective standard issue and most of these guards have been in their profession their entire lives -- they are no joke. The guards themselves range from humans, a few sicariuns, even a Vortag Charger."

He couldn't help it, a shiver ran up Jack's back at the thought of a Vortag Charger. Five hundred pounds of unstoppable rage and hate clad in power armor that could cause a warhead to ricochet. Jack had been on a raid in years back where a Charger had leveled an entire fireteam before a sniper had to call in artillery to take it down. The bodies of the slain Collective personnel hadn't resembled anything even remotely human -- Jack had almost been sick.

"Is this one correct in thinking that should things...backfire then all knowledge of these ones will be denied?"

Looking over into the sicariun's eyes, Hayes smiled "What knowledge?"

“I believe that in this case, the best thing would be stealth. After studying the plans of the bank, we insert ourselves, and take the money, and the banker that deals with Adaris’s funds, and get out, while causing as little commotion as we can. If we raise enough attention upon ourselves, we could be facing an entire planet. I would rather not have to kill that many men if I can help it.”

His attention ripped away from Jacquen, Hayes nodded at Rolf "Of course, lieutenant. It will be up to you to decide how you would like to go about this. After you step onto that ship, I have no power over your personal actions."


Frank listened in on the discussion and had a thought. "We need a diversion." he said out loud. "We need to be able to clear a path to the vault, I'm guessing just your ordinary explosives won't breach that thing so we will need a keycard or whatever is needed to access the vault. How about this? Jack, Rolf and Vortag cause a diversion somewhere on the third floor. They draw the guards away and get into a defendable position from which they can exfiltrate at a moments notice. Jacquen will find a keycard or the form of access to the vault and steal it as he is most suited to the job. Once he has procured a way in he will meet up with Tom, Trace and me. We will then signal for you guys to start the diversion and we shall slip past the guards in the chaos and Tom and I shall grab the money whilst Trace and Jacquen keep look out especially with Trace being able to go invisible. What do you guys think?"


"There is no holding back a charger..." Jacquen mumbled quietly as he leaned across the table to get a better look at the building plan. He could remember the charger he'd faced off against during his peoples brief yet extremely bloody war with the Vortag’s, a slight smile touching his face at the memory of its squeals of pain when the Ripper beast had caught it, crushing it within its own armour...it had taken Jacquen and around six other Sicariun’s days to lure the charger into the things lair...Jacquen had been the only survivor, the others weren't even recognisable "...Also it would take this one hours to navigate a way in and locate the appropriate card by which time reinforcements would have arrived cutting us all off" the building plans were too vague for Jacquen's liking where were the ducting grilles located? How big were they? Were they trapped? Was there a sewer underneath the building he could use? In short there were far too many unknowns for his liking.
"This one is right in assuming that there is no time limit for this?" Jacquen asked, directing the question at Hayes although his eyes never left the schematics "This one suggests we land on Nova then spend a couple of days acquiring weapons and Intel before we act...it would give this one time to have a team check out the bank and surrounding buildings...and make sure that there are no surprises"


Frank listened to the plans from Jacquen. He had never faced a charger but he had heard some of the horror stories which he had always assumed were false. It looked like they might just be true though. After hearing Jacquen he nodded his agreement. "I agree. If possible would there be anyway we could slip in a false operative. I've never been one for spy stuff but in this case it could be our best shot to have a man on the inside."


"This one suggests we land on Nova then spend a couple of days acquiring weapons and Intel before we act...it would give this one time to have a team check out the bank and surrounding buildings...and make sure that there are no surprises"

"That was exactly my plan for you." Hayes smiled at the Sicariun. "I've already booked rooms in a nearby club. Once you arrive in Nova, you will understand why I do not have a plan already hammered out for you. Nova...is like no planet you've ever been on before."

Hayes stood from his chair, pushing his empty plate forward onto the table. He looked at the watch on his hand - unlike most, he still wore an actual watch with hands and a battery, it had a backup winding system as well - and looked up at the rest "Oh my god, if you'll excuse me, I promised to pick Anola up from her Pilates and I'm already late. I'll be sleeping on the couch if I don't hurry."

Rushing to a coat hangar on the wall, Hayes called to the others as he pulled one on "I will return in an hour. Please, eat, go to bed, there are entertainment vids, games and such in the rec center just down the hall. My home is yours, gentlemen, do what you like."

And with that Hayes was gone, disappearing around a corner, a moment later the door closed behind him.

A quiet fell over the table for a long moment, as they all thought of the strange circumstance they found themselves in. Disavowed, dishonored, entire solar systems away from their homes, the men of ODS 3 sat silently, looking at the spinning outline of the bank they were planning to rob -- what a strange galaxy they lived in.


Tom listened to Jacquen's questions, Hayes answered them, before making his excuses and leaving, leaving the group to themselves.
He remained silent, scrutinizing the hologramatic schematics in front of him. This was a though job, the presence of a Vortag Charger only served to heighten the problem.
Eventually, Tom spoke up; "Correct me if I'm wrong, but am I right in thinking that our plan for this op is that we go to Nova, and improvise?" He asked.


(OOC: It's tough, Do you write for The Guardian by any chance?)

Frank heard Tom and bitterly smiled "We're falsely convicted PCC troopers who are now fighting against its most revered member because he is actually a slaver. If we had more time maybe but yes. I think for now that is the plan." he got up and left, he went off into the house to see if there was a shooting range, if so he'd spend some time shooting some stuff and if not he'd probably just go to bed.


(OOC: No. Why would I?)

"We're falsely convicted PCC troopers who are now fighting against its most revered member because he is actually a slaver. If we had more time maybe but yes. I think for now that is the plan." Replied Frank, before leaving the room.
"Great." Tom muttered under his breath. "We're all going to die..."