Kekkonen The Kobold's Story

Kekkonen sat at a booth in the corner, enjoying his beef stew and ale. He was reading a book on etiquette, which he lifted off some gangster he waterboarded earlier to know where his bosses live. He laughed at the thought of the thought of things like cutting your food with the fork in your left and knife in your right, then switch hands to eat. He drank the rest of the ale and drank the rest of the soup, and continued reading, fiddling with his cloak the whole time.

Noting a regular had stepped inside, Deidre sighed before walking over to the table, "Okay Kekkonen, you can stay, but please don't maim or hurt anyone again. Everything bad enough without me having to reimburse people." sighing she forced a smile on, "You are looking especially jolly today, so since I got nothing else to care about, how about you lay it on me. What's the story..." pausing she added, "Oh and whats your poison? Here in O'Malley the wine will keep flowing until Northlight closes us down. Come rain, shine or whatever else this hellhole will throw on us."

It had not always been like this, in fact, Northlight was a gorgeous achievement, but nowadays with fewer people coming and Lochcrest having effectively sealed itself to anyone, Northlight was having to subsist with resource drops from various Nations. Although New Canton was still a problem, they had sent out countless parties to try to find out information and achieved nothing...

It was a cruel twisted cycle...

Kekonnen smiled at the barkeep. "Don't worry, I won't pull anything. Probably." Kekonnen tossed Deidre a canteen and 11 gold pieces. "Keep the change, and fill it up with your finest Pinot Noir. I'll need it for an upcoming job. Also, get me a sandwich to go.", Kekonnen stated. "I'm going to New Canton. All the stories tell of great danger, yeah, but I'm sure there's a crap ton of cash and sellable equipment. I'm meeting up with a team."

Kekonnen continued reading. Once he finished the book, he put it back in his rucksack. He was waiting for the team to meet him.

The sound of an opening door with distant howling then silence introduced a tic-tack noise of toe-claws as another entered the bar. A cyan slit-eyed kobold in an improvised insulated trenchcoat looked about then over at the other kobold. Leather hood pulled back shows a wyrmcrowned head with several spiral horns among the fine cornflower blue scales. Though a faint moving shaded pattern broke her silhouette with random black speckling appearing among scales. Most of her garb looked assembled from various bits of other larger clothing but adeptly so with robust stitching. Her pack was small though a large musket sticks out of some strange wood carved with relief and . Some chaotic war scene only apparent at close range the fine detail leaving it looking otherwise worn, scruffy, and improvised as herself. Weapons used by arcane gunslingers were less specific about material quality and ammo even if she was a sniper. The compact stock super-shorty peeking out one side of her pack looked far more conventional.

Her cough deepened from a smooth if frozen soprano as her complexion paled in a squirm of frigid flesh unconsciously moving to imitate Kekonnen if at a foot taller.

She mutters darkly in some distant accent, "Fine'ly warm. Why's it hadda be on a planet where air's face stabbin!"

Vrisz walked over and sat down opposite Kekkonen his own voice if said with a shiver but in Vrisz's accented slang, "I'm here but I'm freezin! Take a minute 'fore I can feel my scales again to get out of yer skin. Least the cold mirror didn't shrink m'clothes off this time."

Currently grey-white hands reached into her leather coat to take out a silver piece and looked to Deidre, "Hot caff! N' milk."

Deidre walked over to prepare both, not often you saw two kobolds one was mad enough. Shrugging she would turn on the kettle to boil the water while grabbing a tray. Grabbing champagne flute she poured from Pinot Noir. The water now boiled she prepared the coffee being sure to keep it decaffeinated. Finishing she walked over to finally reply, "New Canton huh, every time Northlight Government sent anyone to that rock they have never returned, so hell mend ya, Kobold."

Shrugging she would hand him the flute before turning to the other, "Welcome to O'Malley, the only place in Northlight where --- oh fuck it... I ain't O'Malley times are bad and just pay with coin and you can do what you want." sighing, she shook her head before giving the mug over, "Kek, if you do actually manage to solve New Canton issue, you will be richly reimbursed no doubt... because we desperately need New Canton reopened as it was the main spaceport as Lochcrest locked itself tighter than a Nun's Virginity." rolling her eyes she would pick up a glass from a nearby table and start cleaning with her bone-dry cloth, "Just both of you behave and you can do whatever you wish, but no fucking in my bar, I may be only one here, but you want to screw, go do it elsewhere, I don't have wishes to hear or see the O-Face of your species."

"Fucking? Hah! I wouldn't dream of it... I think." Said Kekonnen, trailing off. There was an awkward silence for a moment, then Kekonnen started drinking his wine. "Get lost, lady, we have important business to discuss, and I've tipped you enough", he hissed at the barkeep, flustered. "Besides, who serves Pinot out of a champagne flute?"

He took out a tablet and opened an interactive topographic map of the surrounding area, and described the mission and all of it's involved dangers. Everything from the temperatures, to past mission reports (they all resulted in failure), to even the wind advisory in effect. No detail was spared. However, from the rim of his wine glass, he saw Vrisz, and couldn't tell if she was paying attention to the graphic or to him. Either works perfect, he thought to himself.

He couldn't believe himself: he was drunk enough, after only 2 ales and half a glass of wine, to have such unprofessional thoughts.

He wrapped up after half an hour of briefing, and said, "We leave for New Canton immediately. I suggest you doggy-bag any leftovers, and we'll hit the road." He twirled the keys of his snowmobile in his claws, and left, leaving behind 2 silver coins as payment for the barkeep.

"You coming or not?"

The darkening twin of Kekkonen took a swig of coffee pouring the rest into a thermos from her trenchcoat. Warm enough in here she numb flesh slowly slipped out from imitation of a kobold in proximity. She'd tried to force it out once and ended up a painful hodgepodge till she started a fire. Just let it ride nowadays.

Pale horns on her head split from flesh to spiral out as she turned to Deidre with a toothy smile, "Ha! So freezin' this place is e'll be on his own bottom! 'anks fer tha coffee! Gotta go where the other thievies ain't been. Good stuff always the risky stuff."

She snerks at Kekonnen while screwing on the thermos top her voice rising away from his pitch, "Fancy boy! Knowin' cham-pagne glasses from whatever the stuff sposta go in. 'least y'ell know the good stuff to take. Never got a taste for it."

Kobolds not one for personal space she peeks over his shoulder to look at the tablet as her skin quivered the cornflower blue shloshing over her frame as bones turned back to normal. While a kobold of simpler tastes she had a keen sniper's eye darting between overlook positions on the topo map and taking mental note.

Then she side eyed him a smooth squeakless soprano pitch, "Gonna needa get better pants anna tail sock with that temp lyin on snow. M' weapon's feywild. Needa speak fiddlysmooth sylvan iffin I'm gonna shoot ma rifle instead 'a gun. Ain't gonna happen if I'm stuck with your throat, eh!"

She flipped her leathery half-insulated hood up, "Ain't gotta walk? I like ya already! Stupid frozen tallblood leather boots in the drifts, nothin to scav for bolds!"

"Fancy boy, eh? It only gets fancier from here." Kekkonen (half)jokingly swooned.

Kekkonen could tell Vrisz was at least mildly interested in him. At least.

"Anyway, of course we're not gonna fuckin' walk. Not in this weather, anyway. Plus, the ship containing our co-workers is due in 5 hours, and it might take more to walk to New Canton." Kekkonen felt self-conscious about his deeper-than-usual voice. As a hatchling, he was ridiculed for having a (for a Kobold) low voice. His ex-employer, a great red dragon, once joked he 'smoked three packs a day'.

He slipped on a particularly thick white fur tailsock intended for extended travel over his thin, more social tailsock he wore for indoor settings. He threw his hood on his head and rubbed his gloved hands together before driving off with Vrisz to New Canton: Pistol in sock and assault rifle readily accessible. He went pretty fast and made sure to go over plenty of snow drifts on the way to get maximum airtime, though Vrisz did land on his tail a few times. Ouch.

Radio Static sounded from Mr Colk's comm system. Then...

"This is Kekkonen. I can confirm I am en route to New Canton with Vrisz, and will be expecting the payment of 500,000 in my off-shore bank account by the time I get to New Canton. Over"

Riding was less cold than she'd thought though she wrapped a heavy bit of leather in her pack around her head. It helped with the wind though as rough and craggy as the old heavy leather was it made a very good case for being a brown rock than a bluish kobold. Hooting at the airtime she made a similar note of pain in landing her particulars on his tail even if it was in a tail sock. The second time she loosed a vulgarity in sylvan then grabbed his tail and fidgeted to put it upward between them.

Over the roar of the hot engine her voice was barely audible while rearranging his tail though it had a spark of mischievous spirit, "Oi! That thing's gotta move yer hurtin the important bits, gimmie! Ha! Know what 'bold I see the tallbloods keepin' stuff put."

While it would be difficult to see the cyan eyes focusing downward from the driving position it was more clear what she meant when leaning forward again. Reorganizing to something more mammalian his tail stuck up through the trenchcoat and over her shoulder. Threaded over her inner coat between a new pair of unusual fluff rather obvious. It kept her from landing on his tail though instead it shuffed through and over her shoulder instead.

Kekkonen parked near a hill and dismounted the snowmobile, leaving the keys in his pocket. He took out a pair of binoculars and scanned his surroundings.

He came back down and started a campfire. He was roasting s'mores and a rabbit he caught near the hill. He ripped the cooked rabbit in half and put it on a paper plate with s'mores. He handed it to Vrisz. "Here you g-...", he paused. What in tarnation, this damn shapeshifter has a pair of... tits. Obviously, unless you frequent e621, you know this is most unusual for a kobold. "Um...", but Kekkonen had nothing to say. There was just an awkward silence, the scent of s'mores, and the crackling of a fire.

If Clumohne noticed his irritation her face didn't move at all in just meeting his gaze and listening intently until he finished, "What you do with the packages after I deliver them isn't something I'm paid for so I don't care about knowing of it. Your conditions are satisfactory; the opinions of the packages will be of no interest. The Gardener crew will do as they're told and keep secrets even if they might object. I'll need to know containment procedures for each package if not included. The why isn't important but otherwise some breakage of packages may occur."

A light shift of her shoulders nothing in the tiefling sparked empathy or even a care for their personage within her voice, "The crew's silence is a part of my contract with the mercs I selected from Nemesis. The packages will be communications isolated as best as I am able."

She looked over the tablet considering the job remote location with possible hostiles and arbitrary recovery. She didn't do field work preferring to manage others that did that. The Gardener ship had several covert systems they were maintaining if not a full field cloak by the system readouts. The not so small armory and mercs to hold a LZ and move cargo could be useful.

She made a counter-offer, "As for Cryo I'm a handler of specops not the front line, Mr Colk. I can offer cloaked field support at Cryo and hostile LZ extraction for the mission but not the direct survey by my person as stated. I'm sure I have a heavy weapons specialist among the Gardener crew I could subcontract for you. They can carry heavy cargo, have their own emplacement-class munitions, and extreme environmental tolerance. The bug in question can take payment as it maintains goodwill for my cover used for the package transport."

She looked down and laughed as she relaxed the bones and flesh pulling backward like elastic her slit-eyes dilated in amusement, "Eehee, what? Otherwise I hadda hold your tail still. Tallbloods all have 'em an' I get jealous stealin' from the high paid tallblood tarts ya know! 20 gold jus' for a night of bad makeup and bangin' with biguns, damn it! Easy money if the damn tallbloods weren't so stingy!"

Sat by the warm fire she took the plate and put it down for a moment to reach back and tighten her top eying the food, "Anyway, don't work right besides seein' the 'bold ancestry ain't got genes for it. Hey... is that choco sweets?"

Grabbing the smore she undid the leathery scarf to stuff the sweet in her mouth making odd movements with her jaw trying to chew not-meat with her pointed white teeth. After a moment it was clear it ended up stuck to the roof of her snout and trying to peel it back off.

"Trmied to marke tallblood-teeth once. No good.", she mumbled trying to get the smore bits from the stuck position.

Cryo not quite a Hell Hole but full of its lawless elements.

Cryo a snow covered tundra where the blizzards chill will kill quicker than a bullet in this desolate planet.

Cryo your destination currently…

Only a few areas could be called home in this place.

One is Northlight by far the safest city and most advanced. Though with your reputation, your unlikely to gain entry and it’s not your mission.

Lochcrest is the final populated area and by far the most illegal law-breaking area on the planet. Rumours of Illegal Mech Fighting tournaments combined with a general view of the people on the planet of outsiders due to past skirmishes with many races intent on conquering them

New Canton the most friendly area on Cryo and generally considered go-between for Northlight has gone completely dark, no communications for years now.

Outside New Canton is your destination New Canton LogicRoad Facility.

What you is known about LogicRoad is that they are Pharmaceutical Company who have franchises all over the galaxy. They are not known to ever hire on Mercenaries like they have here. Any searches for information on them outside of usually only turns up nothing of worth. Eros Fletcher seems to be on the up and up by all accounts.

Yet, the rumours persist.

You know all this, which is nothing yet you agreed to the terms and picked up by a Massive Transport Dropship.

Around you see others who took it, there appears to be a guy made out of muscles, a woman with obvious cybernetic implants, a red-haired woman who appears to be the medic. A fairly normal looking soldier who appears the most comfortable in this, a woman fiddling with devices in her lap and someone of Hispanic origin who has a huge box next to him labelled DANGEROUS

Everyone seems capable, but in reality, most of you probably hate having so little information on the actual details of this.

The thrumming of the engine from the transport is only sound other than beeping and bloops from the software used by one of the players.

From your vantage point, you can see the planet from the window, a huge globe where the ice is evident from even this high.

Hope you wrapped up warm.

In the darkest corner of the transport sat a lone silver haired woman checking over her rifle one last time. She had barely spoken the whole trip. But then the bounty hunter Raven Hawke never had been much of a talker. She was here for two reasons... One was the money, two was the fact that she was bored and needed something to do... This mission was the perfect thing..

Across from Raven sat a group of mercenaries. The patches on their black combat armor clearly marked them as The Black Suns. They sat in a small circle chatting quietly about the upcoming mission. There was six of them all together The leader a pale woman named Kyria Nadine. With her where two male troopers, a female engineer that was tinkering on a flying drone, a female sniper, and a female mage.

Both the bounty hunter and the mercs looked more than ready to go as the transport neared the planet.

It wasn't until the lights on board the shuttle flickered on that Storm Shadow would be revealed to the other passengers. A Dark Green Visor hid his eyes, the rest of his body hidden by the helmet and the nano-suit covering his body. As usual, his HUD was hard at work examining everything going on around him, pointing out various weak-points and possible weaknesses to those that would call themselves his allies in this mission. He had his own reasons for being here, of course... but that was for him to know. With his knife at the small of his back, his pistol on his thigh, and katana and rifle on his back, Storm Shadow was ready for anything. He didn't feel the cold of the weather due to his nano suit, and doubted anything would hurt him on this journey. Nothing really did anymore anyway.

A couple of Kobolds, he heard, and other magically gifted beings, as well as some soldiers of some kind would be on this mission. All mercs. Well this would be interesting to say the least. Using what little knowledge he retained from when Draco inhabited his body, Storm Shadow knew that the Kobolds were often-times sub-subservient to Dragons, and that Draco often employed corrupted ones that made these ones look like ants by comparison.

<< Your thoughts seem distant. >> the voice of Storm Shadow's new personal AI said to only him, no one else able to hear the feminine voice. Her Face appearing on his HUD with her voice. << Care to explain? >> After a few seconds, the HUD Focused on someone from LogicRoad, the whole reason Ereb Industries had sent an expeditionary unit out here. And the whole reason they all died, in the end.

Storm Shadow's silence helped answered her question, and she crossed her arms, nodding in understanding, fading out from his HUD for now, bringing up a map of the area around them, triangulating the point the pair were looking for: A long-lost Ereb Industries Expeditionary ship. << It seems that the path these mercs have chosen to take will lead you near the ship. Suggestion: Try not to kill them? >> the AI giggled in his ears. She had a morbid, flirty sense of humor, and with a few additions to his nano-suit was able to project herself when she felt like she wanted to be seen by other people besides Storm Shadow.

Crossing his arms, Storm Shadow managed a smirk behind his helmet, the shuttle would be landing soon.

A small mounted cargo container, absent identifying marks, came to humming hydraulic life. They'd up and fired Jaunt at the station in a loaded up container to move him to the destination. Another ship another day. High soldiers could hold their breath for hours sleeping in hard-vacuum. A small scrubber and external sensor-vent on the inside took care of that instead. A little stale but pressurized to match external when possible.

Jaunt could tell the drop from cruising altitude by the barometer chirping across RF. He set to mounting his things to a combat harness tethered to his back. Time to pop the box for landing. The false matriarch arranged this job that paid good cash from logicroad for the mission. After helping a trader matriarch where he had to bring his own autocannon this one had a weapons foundry. Even energy weapons so handy since there wasn't likely supplies on Cryo.

So he brought as much hardware from the armory as he could fit on his harnesses. The low-soldier quartermasters elated to help a soldier of the High Matriarch. Two bandoliers held paired incendiary grenades where his arms could reach them. The combat top-plate and miasma proximity resistor fends off a bit of kinetic weapons. A sawtooth-mounted las-ripper intended for use by three man teams on a tripod. A breech-style combat grenade launcher and a regenerator plasma pistol for reserve. Asked for heavy weapons, False Matriarch got heavy weapons. Utilities were a moderate sized humming armored pack strapped under his thorax. A high transient capacity fusion supply for hardware. Without external display the pack used scarab hard case with reinforced heatsinks. Everything wired for Quietus the transceiver alongside his cephalothorax addressed everything.

Soft shuffs of bristles and plasteel jostle came with ruddy-colored spider legs. Sharp blade arms that popped a cargo access and saw Jaunt maneuver to the passenger deck. Four legs planted astride a window he ignored the other mercs and looked out at the city. Cold out there. Air temp on Cryo was real cold, real cold. But between the insulating top-plate and the power supply air temps didn't worry him too much. Their second problem running fast for long was shedding heat anyhow. Jaunt was content to wait and observe the landscape and no more talkative than the rest of them.

The young woman seated across from Storm-Shadow seemed rather unassuming, not to mention harmless, if it wasnt for the fact that her clothing looked to be encrusted with blood then that very well may be the case, however, she was far from harmless and seemed rather interesting to observe as she simply sat in her seat, her eyes closed, and was meditating.

Well that was how she looked. She was in fact trying to piece together why she had agreed to the mission, But then she remembered, it took her one step closer to her true goal. But then, everything had taken her further from her goal of endless peaceful rest.

Being a Bloodmage had the affect of keeping one alive for several generations, And it got tiresome after a time too. As the craft went to land her eyes opened. A bright amber hue as she never moved from her place, her sword seemingly hovering of its own accord, a rusted and pretty much ready to come apart at the slightest touch of air floated next to her just within reach only a scant foot or so off her left arm the sword simply floated in the air.

It was old, and useful, and the beast part, deadly when in use. Blackbird observed everyone within the shuttle, seeing a man in a nanosuit like outfit she observed the man as he crossed his arms over his chest, But she never said a word.

The transport began to settle down, descending to the height they'd disembark on. Em hated this part of the mission, the start was always garbage, and having to go all the way out to Cryo for this one made it that much worse. Not to mention the people LogicRoad had chosen to employ for this job were.... eclectic, to say the least. Em sighed, using her clearance level she'd managed to avoid the rest of them, but now she had to go address them and quickly prep them for the mission.

"Ugh..." She grumbled as she zipped up her bodysuit, and began piling on layers of clothing. It helped that Cryo was cold, at least than she had an excuse to be wearing so much. Finally she secured a face mask, wrapped a scarf around her neck, and threw a hat on. With a final look in the mirror, ensuring her visage was completely hidden, and her voice modulator properly set up to sound as gender-neutral as possible, she was ready to go.

The restricted access door hissed as it opened, revealing the assembled crew for their dive into New Canton. "Greetings, and bienvenue, my assembled friends." Em kept going, her modulated voice reverberating off the metallic walls of the transport. "As I'm sure you've all been informed, New Canton has gone dark, and the LogicRoad Facility that is located their stopped responding. That, my dear ones, is where you come in."

Cryo was sort of a death trap, Em knew that much, which means some of these soldiers were going to be... expendable. "My name is M, I work for LogicRoad. For this mission I will be your supervisor, boss, and in charge of ensuring you get paid for your efforts. If I die, odds are you're all going to die. To that end, I suggest you all do your best. I'm sure you can all see that LogicRoad has just now transferred five hundred K to your accounts. Simple down payment, serve well and you'll be expecting more, quite the lucrative gig, yeah?"

The ship set down a safe distance away from New Canton, there was no telling who or what had set up there, and they couldn't risk being shot down. The transport's doors opened, and a ramp dropped to allow them to disembark. "We're playing this by ear, there's a lot we don't know yet about the Facility. We don't know what to expect there, or the state of the Facility. Might be an ambush, or hostile natives. Let's move with caution." She motioned to the ramp, and began heading for New Canton with her entourage in tow. Kobolds met her, ugly tiny dragonesque creatures. Such were their guide on this planet. Em didn't quite know why, but she didn't particularly like Kobolds. They were.... Exasperating... Regardless, LogicRoad has alerted her to the fact. They were... the safest bet, a thought Em despised.

Jaunt was no stranger for these missions especially after Logicroad's base took root on the precipice at Sopitos near Matriarch Oculi. The leaders often cared to keep their identity obscured which the soldiers respected since they all looked different. Half the missions were utter death traps for more fragile species. Waiting quietly in hard-vacuum to shoot someone, walk across the ship exterior to plant a shape charge, or wait on the bottom of a bridge to shoot a boat captain. They followed Nemesis' neutrality doctrine but it got its workout with Logicroad as even Nemesis had to refuse a mission or two on moral grounds. He had a feeling this was one of those missions after the description not to mention there were three false matriarchs here. Something told him that wasn't correct but the human false Matriarchs often weren't psionic so he could know for sure. They were used to unconsciously knowing what the Matriarchs needed. A part of their large strapped-down brains dedicated to the larger strategic goal not just the immediate mission. While only passive psionics themselves Jaunt and other high soldiers nonetheless had their own intuition.

A retreat to the floor and curl-thwip of his sharp blade arms brought the las-ripper to bear anchored by their teeth. The heavy dual-gimbal mount made the ripper a stable glide over the deck as Jaunt rotated barrel-down. A smaller but fingered arm appeared from under its head with a cable to plug into his weapon. Power hummed inside the weapon as the electronics came to life. Its transceiver warbled once as Jaunt tested it. He immediately set out ahead of M as they moved that direction clambering sideways onto the wall to do so.

His voice had a formal elegance as they had to pick though didn't turn to look at who he talked to while spinning around to check, "Unless any of you can communicate in Quietus, you may call me Jaunt. A pleasure to meet the groups of false Matriarchs.... and soldier. What are the rules of engagement, M? Shoot on sight? I specialize in heavy weapons so I shall remain near you, yes?"

The miasma hardware engaged as Jaunt turned it on to show diaphanous rolling grey fog in midair. In its proximity fast action worked about as well as punching underwater though the field was meant for blades, bats, or diminishing bullets instead.

Across from the Bloodmage and not far from Storm came a faint whirring and clinking of metal. A lightly armoured figure with a young face was grinning while checking a small plasma gun. A larger, metal left arm held the weapon while with his more dextrous right arm he checked that it was in working order. Slotting it back into its holster, Pierce observed the others gathered for the mission. The shadowy figure near him only became visible every once in a while by the glowing of their visor and that had given the young merc a bit of a start.

At that moment the door slid open and a heavily clad figure entered, addressing them all. Pierce quickly remembered his manners and slid out of his laid-back sitting position, standing up straight with his hands held behind his back, to show he was attentive.

Pierce listened to the rundown on their mission. Unease was nagging the back of his mind ever so slightly at the thought of death being a possibility, but he kept reminding himself of House Archeril back home and the honour he would win them by surviving such a dangerous venture. Not to mention this was a traditional coming of age rite for him. When the figure had finished filling them in, he opened his mouth as if to say yessir or yes ma'am but because of the voice filter had no idea how to address their boss correctly, so he shut his mouth and looked at the floor in embarrassment as the ramp opened.

He turned his head to the outside world. The sharp cold air blasted his face, forcing his eyes shut for a few seconds. Trying not to shiver, he grabbed the heavy trenchcoat and cloak he’d brought with him and fastened both securely around himself.

The biting cold was something Pierce was not at all used to, and as his footsteps crunched through the snow, he realized that maybe he should have brought a hat, as his face was going numb and his short hair was beginning to frost over. He pulled up his hood which helped somewhat. It was fortunate he didn’t have any questions yet, as he was too busy shivering anyway.

DUNGEON MASTER POST (Not to be confused for a GM Post)

The ship set itself down as the docking dropped down and the gangway of the transporter lowered while the doors rose. The intrepid crew of Mercs learning the harshness of Cryo already. As was common there was an extreme blizzard raining down and engulfing vision. Fortunately, LogicRoad had provided Snow Gear and Heavy Furs, perfect for this weather. Despite the thickness of snow nearby another ship-like shape could be made out.

It appeared rather large in its hazy silhouette. At least, for now, some sort of shelter had to be found and it was possible that ship had supplies. Plus, there came a roaring of the snowmobile which quickly approached the transport, once it had stopped and the engine had died down two Kobolds covered in multiple layers climbed off, regarding the group. LogicRoad Representative, of course, went to speak to them first to discuss the situation and assess what to do next.

Meanwhile, those who had not taken the furs had busied themselves getting the clothing on, maybe cussing or swearing since the weather was biting cold.

Unknown to everyone else, Storm-Shadow was reading the transponder of the EREB Transport intent on getting more information for what happened to his compatriots.

Sadly, none of them knew the true horrors of what could be unleashed if they failed.

Another modulated voice-user entered, introducing themselves as their boss from LogicRoad. Storm-Shadow scowled behind his helmet, but otherwise did nothing. He listened to the briefing half-heartedly, his real task being to recover all the data on the Ereb Industries ship not too far away, and not let anything of value fall into the hands of anyone who didn't deserve it. In this case, everyone here. He ignored everyone else for the most part, his HUD still taking in everything, feeding him information while his AI, who had named herself Impulsive Tigress, or just Impulse for short, chattered away.

<< There's your "Boss", boss. >> The Mysterious figure identifying themselves as "M" made.... her? appearance and gave the briefing. Storm-Shadow assumed female based on the subtle intricacies of her body language, which presented a feminine attitude, if only just barely. Turning his head to the blinding snow, his Visor seemed to darken to protect his sensitive eyes from the glare of the light on the Snow, and he blinked a few times to adjust. Keeping his arms crossed, Storm-Shadow made his way to the ramp, his nano-suit boots absorbing all the sound he made, leaving him silent as he moved. Stepping into the Snow, he hardly felt the Cold, his suit working to keep him nice and comfortable at equilibrium. Reaching for his rifle, he took it into his hands, and took a few steps towards the outline of the Ereb ship, zooming in on it with his eyes and HUD.

<< She's still intact... Minimal Auxillary power left. Maybe enough for the PAIA data-base to be active enough to transfer the files to me. We'll have to act fast so LogicRoad doesn't get their grubby paws on it. >> Impulse continued her chatter, and Storm Shadow nodded in response. He turned to the group behind him, waiting for them to move. He was positive they'd want to check out the ship, or the path would take them by it to begin with, and he'd use the opportunity to scrounge what he could from the ship, and scrap what needed to be scrapped before it could be used. In the Stark White of the Ice, he was a sight easier to see with his Black Nano-Suit, but if he wanted, he could always activate it's Camouflage and vanish from sight easily. He had no need to do so of course, but the option was there.

As the shuttle landed and the rear broke open it was clear the planewt was ice cold, yet enjoyable weather. Blackbird smirked, refusing the offer of a fur coat of any kind she did however accept the snow goggles to shield her eyes. Stepping from the shuttle she took stock of where the group was. "An interesting planet" She mused in an old seemingly most likely long dead language. Never the less the sheer sense of lack of communication was one thing.

She watched as the one referred to as Storm looking in one direction, using her magic she focused her eyes, the blood vessels reformed and shifted, allowing her to momentarily 'zoom in' on the downed vessel, "So another has come before us" She mused, this would either hinder or aid, or... something. As she walked her sword floated within her reach just off her back, attached to her yet it looked rather neat how it floated in the air as she walked.

She focused then on the present, her eyes always hurt when she zoomed in on details like that. Noticing the one critical thing that made her slightly frown, They were to go to New Canton were they not ? Where were they to find a downed vessel ? The storm was once more coming in rather heavy at that. So it meant some issues but not as many as feared.

Pierce looked questioningly at the red-clad swordswoman who had refused to don any warm clothing, all the while clutching his own as securely round himself as possible. Through the goggles he’d been provided with he could just about make out the obscured blot that appeared to be some sort of structure. Whether that was their destination, it certainly seemed they were going to pass it. Perhaps he could get his bearings there. While he mulled this over in his head, he took in a deep breath. His eyes snapped wide open, it felt like he’d inhaled solid ice. He grimaced, rubbing his head from the brainfreeze sensation.

Why didn’t I pay more attention to the job details, he thought, now realizing why his combat tutor had been so apprehensive about him choosing this particular mission for the rite. Having a sudden thought, the young warrior took a moment to tentatively check his cybernetic arm to make sure it was still working properly, since he’d never been in such a cold environment. Luckily it seemed to be functioning normally. The gleaming black plates had gained a coat of shimmering frost which lowered the appendage's dexterity a tad but otherwise all was in working order. He did think about whether to test the electric field cannon, but thought better of it, grinning to himself. After all, he wanted to make a good impression and messing up people's electronics, or at least trying to, was not the best way to do that. In the meantime he thought he might as well try and lighten up the journey a bit. He turned to the nearest merc, who just happened to be Storm Shadow.

“Pff, bloody cold,” he shouted above the howling blizzard. His voice had a casual, jovial tone, “Guess the clue was in the name! Ha ha.”