Green Family Mansion
As ever, the stately progress of the Green family down the ages has been propelled by a lot of frantic work below the surface, and despite the guard posts and CCTV cameras, the sub-basement levels are where most of the hard end of the cartel operates from. It is an extremely unnerving place to be at any time, despite and probably because of it's clinical, whitewashed air. The Board have this place listed for several kilos of thermite, and even crazyfurries finds it replusive.
Thankfully, thought Winters as he depressively stared at the form letter to that poor bastard Devitt's family, this is the ordinary basement. As ever, the Green goons get on with their jobs by just not thinking about it too hard.
Oh great, it's the boss's lackey. Everyone knew this dweeb had the hots for her. What did he want?
"...I will expect readiness reports from the armoury and perimeter as soon as possible. Double the guard and evacuate all nonessential personnel."
"Ah...sure, Thad. That include her children?"
Thaddeus murrred at the henchman's casual speech and added an extra few degrees negative to his iciness. Just because Madame was away did not entitle the hired help to lose their discipline. Not that they'd had much, anyway.
"Not as yet."
"Drills, or shall I issue live ammo?"
"Live. Madame expects trouble within the foreseeable future." And despite the mistress's confidence in her new friends, I do not intend to be crossfire.
* * *
High Earth Orbit: Funky Horror Conference Hall, Deck 28
It was Patryn's turn to lean on the back of a chair as he watched Ahayweh go through the operation with Shenalia, which had filtered down to a map of SKID's enclave (a cross between a cult stronghold and a crude outback fortress...which didn't bode well). The map had sprouted yellow-and-purple arrows, which were never a good sign, and the icon for the BIP was starting to crop up in the stream of data, albiet only in it's usual cleanup role. It seemed odd to see Shen, of all people, playing with such equipment but then again just because he was a moderate didn't mean he wasn't willing to deal with what was rapidly turning into some kind of loose-cannon militia group.
"Do we really want her in on this?"
"She's not a newbie anymore, Pat." Omega watched the subject of the discussion as she replayed archive footage. "She's done plenty of field stuff...that mob, for a start." Seeing Pat's slight mollification Omega kept talking. "Besides, she's In with the Powers That Be and I dunno about you, but I'm always in the running for everything I can get when poking around comicside."
"Yeah, but why's Mari sending someone to look over our shoulders?"
"Why's Loweko sent someone to look over our shoulders?"
"NSD's worried about the Dragon, O. He's there to make sure she doesn't try anything."
"Doubt it. He'll be there to make sure what she gets away with is reported to High Command. I guess Mari's doing the same thing." Omega exhaled in a not-quite sigh. "Heh. Figures we'd be trotting her out for another Waldo & Steve mess..."
"Meh. They've had it coming."
* * *
"Surely. We'll pass the word. Spec-E out..." Jappus keyed the intercom off and looked back at the assembled group in the thread. "Guys! That was Shen. He suggests we mess with their bank accounts, since they've gotta be spending money like water to hold everything together down there."
"He's got a plan there." Flax wrly smiled at the Dragon. "...especially since it's easily done. How would they be likely to react?"
"Panic, probably." Roscoe shrugged. "Take the money and run or try a crime wave."
"If they're that dumb we just let them get busted."
"We still want purple and shiney, ElO." Flax is the only person who calls ElObscuro "ElO". Flax is the only person who can say it with a straight face, for a start.
"Yeeeees." Flax blinked as he realised the Dragon was doing the talking. "...I want more information on that. What was it?"
"If we knew that, we wouldn't be worrying about it."
"Oh, I bet we can lay odds on it. Not to worry, madam, we've dealt with it's ilk before."
"Very well then..." The Dragon sensed a faint tinge to the air, and wondered why ElObs seemed to be waving his hand like that...but never mind. Now that she gave it more thought, it couldn't possibly be a problem. "Shall I have a word with some major banks?" Oh please give me control of your finances, even with that worthless observer, wherever he actually is...
"You do that." Hell, maybe she's got a future up here after all. "London, Frankfurt, or Zurich?"
"I was thinking of some faxed instructions to my brokers." Whoops...
The Dragon could instantly tell she'd committed a minor faux pas instantly by the amused shaking of heads that suddenly broke out around her. A pathological aversion to the stock exchange?
"Only if you want to be known for doing the action yourself, and even then..." Jappus puased to try and get one of the Board's unwritten rules across. "Boardies do things in person. People tend to slack somewhat if their mysterious sponsors don't turn up and poke them."
"Then I'll need the Board equivalent of overnight tickets to Zurich..."
ElObs candidly glanced at Flax. "Shuttle?"
"Depends. How big an entrance do you want to make, Hazel?" Roscoe fielded another set of disapproving looks. "Can I call you Hazel?"
Hrm. Do I want to be on first-name terms with a Boardie? Not just yet, I think
"No. Now how am I getting there? You'll call in one of those ships?" Oh look, this time I get the honour guard...
"Why do I have to do it?" Flax grinned as Jappus pointedly pushed the Hotline telephone forward again. "This is your operation...you call one in."
The Dragon held his gaze for a minute before reaching out for the phone. Just like being at home, really. As she merrily gave Toxic a horrible moment as he answered up in Fleet Command, Jappus and ElObs found themselves facing each other over a console as she spoke.
"This should be a riot. I'll be curious to see whose name has more leverage." Jappus watched his new "friend" with interest as she politely called in a taxi service with enough firepower to reduce cities to puddles of glass, then made a polite "lead the way" gesture to Roscoe. "Ebon...Riggsy...whatever he calls himself...his finance office has only really ever been something he did for the hell of it."
"Yeah, but this entire world runs on people getting a kick out of it, y'know."
"Yeah, yeah, pull a Goddess metaphor on me, why don't you? One day she'll correct you on one of those."
* * *
War Thread Pod:
CAUTION! Hazardous Environment Conditions may or may not be present while the pod is in use. Consult the thread poster for more information.
"JJ is sooooo dead..." muttered TomS for the 528th time as the simulated gun turret spat simulated death to shoot down yet another simulated not-superhero. After a while Fletcher had begun slipping new texture sets into the projector banks to alleviate the tedium, and so far the targets had been an amusing array of politicians, world leaders, and, of course, badly-edited images of Jordanis.
"Agreed." muttered Pseudowolf, for the 514th time (it had taken him a while to realise TomS had been speaking). The projected reloading displays cycled and the gunnery program reset itself as yet another flight of rendered superheroes began their wobbly attack passes on that good ol' staple of training flights, BSS Neversail.
The gun crew looked up to see Toxic standing at the thread entrance waving, allowing JordyMan to slip through their fire control net. Respite! At last! "Grab Fletch when he finishes daydreaming and tell him I'm sending you off on something. Draggie needs a taxi and we'll need crews for Shen's hit squad soon, so you're back in the action."
Right now, these guys would have ferried the Satan-Cthulu tag team. Anything rather than face another hour of potshotting The Amazing Simulated Human Jackal.
"Oh yeah, someone buzz Nemo and get Wing and maybe anyone they can spare. I've even got Talix on this big raid they're planning and we need people to man all this stuff..."
"Something big going down?"
"Oooh yeah, TomS...Ooooh yeah."
* * *
Speculation Deck Bulkhead/Corridor Junction V-223
Any minute now, the Dragon is going to pass bulkhead frame V-223 on corridor V-2 (the codes naturally make sense to any member of the Boardieborg). Bulkhead frame V-223, being a big, heavy bulkhead, contains an access door leading into corridor V-23. Corrdior V-23 is currently filled with expectant Boardies priming their Pokinators. What Freud might have had to say about this...well, he'd have been too busy making gurgling noises.
The oblivious Madame Green glided onwards towards the nearest lift shaft, chatting diplomatically to Roscoe about something that involved sweeping hand movements and quite a bit of laughter. Whipped cream was poured into reservoirs and battery packs were applied to ensure the Pokinators reach operating RPM.
The bulkhead swept past like any other raw steel girder, and Starlock channelled a generation of Rambo movies and Counterstrike players as he leapt to his feet and yelled "Go go GO!". Joshua hit the door control and the entire poking squad raced to their feet.
And the door didn't open.
Joshua hit the button again. Gears ground for a second, and then the door panel lit up with warning lights. A third, far less friendly punch of the controls and a little "maintenance has been notified" sign lit up.
"Lemmie look at that..." Paradoxon elbowed his way through the crowd. "Servo jammed?! Josh! Grab that panel next to you and twist..."
Joshlamont did so, the smooth wall cladding sliding off it's mountings with the whirr of well-oiled machinery, revealing the hydraulic rams and small, hollow gap in the huge metal mass for the door to pass into when it opened.
"Ouch..." said the person who fell out, crumpling to a heap at Josh's feet.
Now the current batch of scenes is over, we can see more Boardies again...tomorrow hopefully sees the return of all kinds of people, from himi to Wingnut to Hayasaka & co, and back again, along with everyone in Nemo.