Scene #8131: To the victor...

Owner	Pose
Hiromi	Mayday signals go out from various outlets, working their way through the usual series of relays to reach the multiverse at large, jostling against the other crises of the day in hopes of finding attention from the right people. Today, several are talking about the same problem, in the same place, though the sources are different. A rather ordinary Commonwealth state, a set of united islands with a mostly unimportant history of having been previously important in some war that ended more than a generation ago, has sent out distress calls from both military bases and civilian government. The local standing army (they call themselves a 'defense force') is badly outnumbered by the attackers. Ordinary civilian contacts have their own set of suspicions they'll easily voice, but not too much is known for sure. The attackers had been private military companies funded through a joint defense program with overseas allies. Angry accusations of betrayal have been met with the baffling claim that their contracts allow for forceful takeover. The PMCs aren't working together. They are, as is obvious even from a distance, fighting each other even harder than they're fighting to advance on the city's infrastructure. There are civilian holdouts centering around a local police building, an emergency response building that includes a firefighting helipad, and a courthouse that is seemingly bunker-sturdy underneath its facade. The port is on fire. Rows of warehouses stand, but a few have been caved in. The tops of wrecked ships stick out of the water, preventing anyone from easily getting in or out. Wide-open spaces make for poor cover, and the fighting has already moved inland from there. A radio building has been taken over by men looking far more like soldiers than the lightly armed constables or Defense Force do, their powered armor suits marked with blue. Aerial drones scatter from its rooftop, coming under immediate fire from below, but some juking and returning with rocket strikes as targets reveal themselves. Their main opponents are wearing armor marked in green, and have been diverted from the city center in going street by street to fight to the radio building from a large monorail station, which was probably more important before the tall, sleek and very modern-looking bridge to the next island over was blown up. Automatic weaponry, armor, rotor drones in the air and four-legged, wheeled drones hopping and zooming down streets, explosive launchers, tracer fire, and the invisible chaos of electronic warfare, that's the current state of Mostat. Worst of all, from the perspective of its residents, is that there's no apparent direction to turn to to get away from the fighting.
Ishirou	Ishirou flies high above the city, trying to be the first one on the scene for the Paladins. This lets him transmit information back to the other Paladins that are coming, allowing them to coordinate more efficiently. Ishirou loves the numbers going up. He looks to be too fast to be a good target while weaving in between buildings while also collecting intelligence. Once he gets a good lay of the land and sends info back for others to have some info on, he swerves around and switches the R.E.S.C.U.E. Unit from flight mode into humanoid mode and takes cover on top of a building. From here he can try putting a plan together. Civilians are at three locations, and all three are fairly reinforced and capable of holding them. The fight is happening across the city and its air space, with the focus happening between the monorail station and the Radio building. This means that light green is on the back foot, trying to assault a position held by blue. Well, this gives him an idea. He leans over and starts aiming to add his own electronic warfare to the situation. His first goal was to try and take control of the radio station's transmitters and broadcasting from a remote location with his own hacking. From there he'll be able to do a lot more!
Remee Halcyon	Cash gets thrown around. There's a lot of it being thrown around, and it's being thrown at property owners who are probably incentivized to divest from a city that's under attack. It's a buyer's market, in other words. There's a buyer's market, in other words. Specifically one buyer, who is currently running down the streets on all fours, shouting out the last bits of the handshake agreement into a custom-fit headset designed for ears that aren't quite on the side of her head. The agreement is finalized just in time. In the legal sense, nothing has really happened: there's titles to be signed, taxes to be paid, paperwork to be worked over. In the practical sense, in the middle of a war zone, nobody's going to care until tomorrow at the earliest. If that. Almost thirty seconds to the dot after the buyer has purchased her new office building, she runs at and smashes straight through the front door of it. (There's no time to wait for someone to bring her a key, and when you're a big bad wolf, there's no need for one either.) Remee bolts across to the stairs, changing seamlessly as she starts going up them - two legs needing less effort than four in this case. She keeps going, all the way up to the roof access, and shoulder-checks that door as well - tearing it off of its hinges as she bursts through. One part makeshift civilian shelter. One part temporary Watch HQ. And one part makeshift sniper perch.
James Bond	EARLIER Bond pulls on the Lucky Strike as he pores over a spread of photographs in a hotel room a few gate jumps away. The window is cracked, so he assumes (wrongly) it'll be fine. They'll be sending him a bill, no doubt. Air traffic around that radio building might pick me up if I come in from the sky. It's not as if the streets are much better. Full of drones. Low profile, then, and hope for the best. NOW An unremarkable grey sedan stalks through the streets. The man inside couldn't be more civilian--his polo and slacks give him the air of some middlingly successful photocopier salesman, or something simiilarly dreary. As would any civilian caught out on the roads at a time like this, he seems nervous, anxious to find a place away from all the chaos. Sticking to sideroads in a way that only a native could (thanks to some advance remote reconaissance), the sedan guns it through busier streets, crawls through the places of relative peace. Though anyone looking at this display might get the idea that this is some hapless person who somehow didn't get or refused to get the memo (as there so often are during crises), the driver makes masterful use of his surroundings, waiting behind blind corners before moving. What's more, the car is quieter than it ought to be. Eventually, Bond parks near the courthouse, locks up, and heads inside. His intention, spoken with a flash of his Paladins ID, is to meet with someone representing the local government here, and get information from them regarding these alleged provisions in the PMC contracts allowing for forceful takeover.
Hibiki Tachibana	The sight of the chaos going on, from an aerial overlook, reminds a certain magical girl of a previous encounter with a settlement under attack. The main differences being, this is a far more expansive one - and rather than fending off monsters, the aggressors here are other humans. That alone would, of course, be enough to give her pause on the best of the days. But from what she's heard... This is weird. Really weird. Or at least weird enough that she can't even imagine what the hell is going on when it comes to the reasoning behind this, or those utterly confusing contracts. But she's not the person for looking over the fine print of contracts in the first place. There's other people who are way better at that. "There...!" It's an aerial overlook because she's been using a series of thruster-assisted leaps to move from rooftop to rooftop, soaring above Mostat's skyline with the intention of finding where to come down at. It turns out that spot is the current street being ripped through on Green's way towards the radio building, where she makes to intercept one of the missiles launched mid-flight, and spin to throw it back airborne so it's only going to be detonating more explosives instead of adding to the collateral damage going on at ground level. And she makes contact with said ground by very intentionally coming down right on top of one of the drones zooming down the road, crumpling it right underfoot in an overly dramatic way before pulling herself out of the metal wreckage. Hibiki Tachibana's method of trying to minimize collateral and ensure civilians have the chance to escape is a very physical one, and is usually in the vein of making sure she's the one being shot rather than anyone or anything else. Some direct (un)armed intervention at ground zero, and whatever will come of that, will just have to do for right this second.
Lilian Rook	<J-IC-Scene> Ishirou says, "Read you. Handshake protocol going out for sharing HUD and tactical information. I am currently trying to take control of the radio tower from the outside." <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "Isolate any information about who the hell they are immediately. Identification, chain of command, force composition and deployment." <J-IC-Scene> Ishirou says, "Acknowledged." <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "This is bedlam. We've walked straight into a warzone that everyone was too busy running for cover to keep track of." §If nothing else, I'm glad that I didn't call for Sword Unit. The extra manpower would go a long way in getting a grip on this situation, split three ways, but seeing it with my own eyes definitely confirms my premonition. This is far too chaotic to send those people into head first without throwing dice on stray rockets and their lives. I'll be far more effective if I only have to focus on myself. I'll have to compensate on the civilian end with . . .§ §First Code.§ Lilian arrives fully armoured, taking to the rooftops in the wake of Ishirou's flight, and remaining deceptively difficult to track on the move even while wearing what looks to be thirty odd pounds of mystery metal. Her rapid movement towards the city center, leaping between buildings without so much as rolling at a landing, makes all the sound of a clacking pendulum clock. The glimmer of gold fades out of focus from a stone's throw away, and the waves of radar spikes seem to flow over her second skin with only a fuzzy ripple to show on sensors, when she isn't simply presciently right behind a building when the next pulse comes. Only a direct visual confirmation on the shadow darting from top story window to roof access to balcony is enough to be firmly convinced that there is someone heading straight for the monorail station, at 'glitch on the monitor' speeds, occasionally jumping ahead blocks at a time. Though it'd essentially be free to make a tidy heap of drones disappear in the vicinity, when Lilian arrives at the nearest sheltered vantage she can get --ideally something with a lot of identical windows-- she melts back into the shadows of the building interior and waits. She stays her hand for the moment so that she can close her eyes, shut out all of her senses but hearing, and focus on absorbing the chaotic torrent of seething human emotion before. Uncomfortably basking in the heat of a psychonarrative bonfire below, Lilian begins sorting through the dark thoughts and battle-feelings playing out en masse, trying to construct a rough composite idea of the conflict from the shoulders themselves. What they're thinking about, especially unconsciously. Who is giving then orders, what they hope to gain here, what they're afraid of other than shot and shell, the general scope of their current maneuvers and operation; strongholds they want to push towards, plans for civilians they find, their idea of each others' overall power and deployment.
Petra Soroka	Petra's not at the city yet, though not for lack of trying. The moment the words 'paramilitary forceful takeover' crossed her radio, her mech roared to full speed, but the Ekanamsha S1 moves too slowly for her to get there in time for any prep. Or even an in-depth assessment of the battlefield. And seeing the chaos below her, she isn't in the mindset to change that. The blocky mech hovers high above Mostat for only a brief second, as if taking a breath, before careering downwards into the radio building. The impact isn't as devastating as you'd expect--reversing thrust helps with that--but the mech's legs bite into the sides and roof of the building, powdering bricks and crushing drones that don't evade. Inside, Petra can't stop herself from laughing from the exhilaration, like the thrill of a roller coaster. It's punctuated with coughs, because ow the seatbelt isn't designed for that, and each cough sets her expression a little bit closer to 'battlefield serious'. Bullets pinging off the armor startle her, and her heart rate jumps into a fight or flight panic. "This is what you're here for, Petra.". She takes a deep breath, and vents smoke from her leg joints, hoping to both cool the mech off after a long flight, and make deployment and retrieval of those drones even more difficult.
Hiromi	Being in the air for any amount of time is very dangerous, as the airspace is being repeatedly cleared by both Blue and Green teams, but if you're quick and lucky, it's definitely possible to get through. Not many people are throwing their own bodies into the air, still -- that's what drones are for. The Blue Team in the radio building are prepared for a hacking attempt. Green Team has been making attacks all day. Ishirou still makes it in, if only because he's very good at it. There's a constant risk of him getting locked out again by the guys with physical access, but he could keep up a disruption tactic all day, or stay in to monitor them if he chooses to be sneaky, instead. What he immediately finds is that the radio equipment is very useful for increasing the range of control over their drones. Should the drones get cut off, it will quickly be apparent that they have very limited, if still dangerous, onboard AI. He also finds that Blue Team is, officially, South East Aeronautics Defense Contracts Inc., but they just go by SEA. There are a lot of people talking at once, and tracing their command structure would take some sneaky effort. Remee runs in comparatively unopposed. There's a risk of being spotted once anyone starts attacking from high up a building, but that's standard sniper problems. The previous owner is happy to take the money and (literally but also figuratively) run. She has the run of the place, if not the associated keyring. There were some people working in the office building who are still there, and very confused, but they'll just keep hiding under their desks for a while yet, if she leaves them be. Bond trying to drive a car through a warzone is crazy, and not in the 'so crazy it has to work' way. This is more a 'something that could only be done by James Bond' kind of feat, as he weaves through the unplanned traffic of armed drones jumping over parked vehicles and chasing each other around corners, managing to reach the courthouse, where a number of policemen with thankfully untwitchy fingers let him in, having first assumed him to be a very lucky refugee. While the prime minister and cabinet (and assorted other elected representatives) are somewhere in here, at the question of contracts, it's a legal aide working directly for the courts that is instead the right man to ask. Bespectacled, nervous, and possibly made of 50% coffee by volume, but already familiar with the question Bond wants to ask. "There's nothing in the contracts to allow this. Nothing. Not even vaguely." He's 'happy' (read: willing but extremely worried) to bring out paper copies and pore over them together, pointing out where the defense contractors would be required to submit to a series of government approvals before even making half the deployments they've already done, to include 'using explosive weaponry in an inhabited residential area.' A long series of obligations have been broken or abandoned.
Ishirou	Ishirou keeps himself low right now, eyeing the building in both the digital and real worlds. Lilian was confident about getting their CoC, so that means letting their air forces go for the time being and trying to be sneaky while in their systems. Mostly trying to filter conversations. It'll take time, but if he can keep things on the down low, and filter information the truth will come out. He also moves to subtly take more control of things, trying to also then start sending a virus into the drone network, with a focus on trying to get them to ignore civilian centers, civilians, and multiversal agents here. From here it's just trying to scan their frequencies for those who are leading troop movements, as well as coordinating that data with their own forces.
Remee Halcyon	Being shot at is a problem! But it's more of a 'I can't be an effective sniper if body parts get blown off' problem, not a 'I'll die permanently forever if I get shot at' problem. ... Just to check, Rita Ma's not here, right? Okay, good, we can continue. Remee braves the incoming and return fire, and sticks to her perch. It's more important, right now, to establish some things - this building, hopefully full of very safe civilians soon, is Off Limits. Nobody in uniform (unless Ishirou's marked them in his tactical feed as friendly) gets into the building. With that established as point number one with a bullet, nobody in uniform gets near the building. Then, nobody in uniform gets within at least a block of the building, maybe more. Nobody gets to look like they're having a run at the building. Nobody so much as looks at the building funny. This is, if you'll forgive the stereotype, Remee's territory now. She's drawing lines to defend it.
Hiromi	At least one rocket explodes high in the air rather than at ground level, when Hibiki makes her entrance. One drone is crushed under her, and the ones arranged to watch the first from just beyond easy explosive range immediately mark her as an enemy combatant and open fire, pelting her position with an obnoxious number of bullets while strafing around cover. For the most part, they seem suicidal, but they're drones, after all. The operators care more about their own lives than their equipment. And she does get someone aiming a sniper rifle at her from around the corner several blocks away, human hands being, as is often the case, the most dangerous. For those with a more big-picture view, Hibiki is a clear roadblock in the battle's progression, and one that might be exploited if someone clever enough can read the board. Lilian gets to her destination while being too vague a target to draw much attention. She finds the other missing symbol, to the extent names are necessary here, in that Green Team is officially the Allied Union of Sea and Land Protection Services, incorporated under the symbol AUS as an intentional contracting company under practically permanent hire. Contrary to Bond's findings, the one thing the soldiers here are all completely sure of is that their contract explicitly allows what they're doing. They're doing the job they were hired to do, and while a lot of them are plenty nervous at the thought of SEA beating them to it (or killing them in the process of beating them to it), the rank and file are taking the attitude that there's no sense in doing anything but putting their heads down and trying their hardest to be the ones who win, and sort out the rest later. This predictably shifts toward more big-picture awareness as she focuses on the thoughts of higher officers, who have little choice but to put more worry on the possibility of losing, here. They don't think they will. But it is a desperate situation, and they're not allowed to give up. They can accept surrenders, but they barely think of the possibility of surrendering, themselves. The idea that they can use up their significant quantity of drones to force a better situation on the board is where a lot of the present hope and confidence is coming from. Lilian can tell, as well, that when Petra's mecha very visibly impacts the radio building, the soldiers at the monorail are optimistically excited, assuming some sort of reinforcement. Only the people whose job it is to keep track of where everyone is are instead confused by it. While all other operations are immediately disrupted, with scattered cells of soldiers dropping to lower-power communications to keep control, and the total effectiveness is thereby reduced, this comes at the cost of a lot of SEA's attention focusing on Petra, herself. Small arms fire is one thing, and the drones she crashed into are all the way out, but the soldiers have supplies of grenades, handheld SAM launchers, snipers with oversized anti-tank rifles, and (because they were already engaged in this) various attempts at taking control of or disrupting her electronic systems. None of these are immediately available, but they'll turn towards her if she gives them more than a few seconds to get ready.
Hiromi	Remee's job is initially very difficult, in taking out any target that gets close to her building. She gets some anti-sniper fire, but the drones in the air are easy to pick out, the ones on the ground aren't equipped to engage at that range, and the human targets would rather not get sniped. This gets easier over time, as the building isn't one they actually wanted anyway (this is totally not sour grapes), and lines of advance are redrawn to avoid it. It's a danger they can deal with later, just because she's making it too expensive in terms of lives and materiel to deal with now. It is not, however, obviously a safe zone for the civilians, since they don't know that she's only shooting people in uniform, even as the surrounding in-sight streets become safer. Ishirou finds that it's pretty tedious to be as sneaky as possible, but entirely possible to continually direct drones away from lines of attack that would put inhabited buildings in danger. It's harder to keep everyone out of danger, if only because there are civilians everywhere, making the number of buildings that are safe to shoot hard to determine. The danger is reduced, but not removed. Taking the time to get up the command chain, he finds that the one in charge, and presently situated in the radio building's basement, is Commander Firmanda. That's where the buck stops, passed up (or physically down) from the coordinating officers, many (but not all) of whom are also in the building. Some traffic is going out to offshore warships, but there's no suggestion of them joining the fight. They're not even in sight. Traffic that way is limited enough to make it unclear why.
Petra Soroka	<J-IC-Scene> Petra Soroka says, "We're in the middle of a battlefield, I'm not going to explain the premise of Jungian-Newtonian psychic mech projection to you!" <J-IC-Scene> Ishirou says, "I'm sorry what?" <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "Jung-- Hold the phone! How do you know that word?!" "Wait, wha--" Petra, increasingly indignant at the little gay people in her radio, lapses concentration on the battle for just a moment. A moment is long enough, though, for the clumsy legs of the Ekanamsha to settle into place, costing more and more precious moments before they can launch her off of the rooftop, out of the scopes of every person on the battlefield that she's just alerted. Within the cloud of smoke, there's a cracking sound as the mech stumbles, knocking walls of the radio building and neighboring buildings down, and it just barely gets into the air before the heavy fire rains down on her. Not fast enough.
Hibiki Tachibana	Suicidal isn't a surprise, when they're disposable machines. And, you know. The part where she's also drawing a line in the sand right here is also pretty suicidal in its own right, but as an expert in suicidal one-girl-army dumbassery, she thinks she can manage for a little bit. Lilian pointing it out does make her worry about Petra for a moment - whom she can cleanly see smashing into the building - but you know? Hibiki has a feeling she'll be just fine. That might be the kinship of two people shoving their face as hard as they can into harm's way talking, but still. Thankfully, her attention goes away before she's instantly proven to be wrong. Because speaking of harm's way, there's a lot of bullets coming in. She can outrun and otherwise duck in and out of cover herself to avoid those, and she immediately gets moving to do so; if they have any obvious arc of fire limitations on their guns, then she can aim to get into blind spots and then close in to take them out in one blow before they reorient. Mechanical enemies don't leave much need to hold back, other than not adding to collateral damage herself. And yet, it always was the humans that were the problem. Ishirou wasn't wrong, as much as she didn't want to openly admit, in that she might have been better off focusing on evacuating whoever she could. But if there was a chance to stop the fighting from moving past here, or stopping it period, that's something she just had to try. Oh, and there's the other way more immediate problem of one of them aiming at her. Which means it's time to become moving bait. Very, very, very fast-moving bait.
Lilian Rook	Lilian's ability to run the realm of mind and heart isn't quite tuned for a situation of this scope. One person is effortless, but here she has to pour her magical energy into reinforcing herself in order to handle it. The moment she believes she has the general idea, Lilian reqlinquishes the strenuous focus and backs up into the wall behind her, suddenly remembering to breathe in the same instant her eyes flutter open again. Absentmindedly, she wipes a drop of sweat from her jaw with a finger. Somehow, it actually clings to her armoured finger as it would a bare one. She catches her breath while watching the situation develop past the light of the balcony, tsking to herself at Hibiki's appearance and having a rather terse discussion about the Watch jumping in over the encrypted wideband. Out of curiosity, she blanks out for a few seconds to sense the suddenly deployed mecha's imminent fate play out over a few instances of two minutes, then moves back to the door, lingering just behind the threshold of overhead shadow for now. "Further information. Your SEA's opposition is . . . it's abbreviated AUS." Lilian responds to Ishirou. A weary sigh follows. "I cannot believe this." Her lips twist in a consternated frown. "My professional opinion is that we have a high level Delusion-type event on our hands. Demon class, probably. These soldiers are convinced that everything they're doing is perfectly above board, but have no rational conception of why. Their survival instinct is still intact, but most of the usual options aren't responding; none of them seem to be experiencing a reasonable amount of fear, nor are they doing anything to cope with the flight reflex. They're irrationally convinced that they're the designated winning party and aren't thinking of their long term costs." "That is to say, not even the officers are considering retreat as an option. Soldiers don't fight like this unless their escape has been totally cut off, and in those cases, they're much more afraid than here. Something well beyond money changing hands is responsible for this. I can't deprogram this many of them at once. I'm going to have to hunt for the officers and see how effective their issuing a ceasefire will be. Bond. Ishirou. Locate them, if you would."
Lilian Rook	One last lingering stare goes out the window. <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "And furthermore, you're such irresistible sniper bait right now that it's hard for me to withholding the urge to take a shot. As a treat." <J-IC-Scene> James Bond says, "If I can drive that dreary old thing outside, you can resist the temptation." <J-IC-Scene> Hibiki Tachibana says, "I'm going to stop the battle from moving any further, or at least slow it down. They're using explosives and aren't worrying about collateral damage, and civilians are still holding out in buildings - so I'm going to limit it as much as I can." <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "I will simply have to draw the necessary willpower from my bottomless reserves of deep inner strength." Lilian vaults from the balcony, slips down the side of the building in freefall far too fluid for someone wearing even so unrealistically fitted armour, and crunches both feet onto the cement without even flexing her legs. Rather than rushing forward, she chooses the most visible spot she can, and stands there. Grasping and twisting some invisible point of significance nestled in thin air, black-gold motes fizzle and boil around Lilian's clenched fist, drawn into a central singularity hidden by her fingers. The turn of her wrist briefly strains against some intangible torque, and then a sound splits the air like a sword breaking under the edge of another. An entire daisy chain of drones are ventilated by the same energy bursting out from within, acting like a hard-light fragmentation grenade had somehow materialized deep in their electronic guts. The roar of so many crashing or exploding at the exact same time should draw attention. Which is the point, because she's waiting for the priority contact alert upon seeing her to ripple through the ranks. Ishirou can monitor the radio chatter and locate the officers that Lilian doesn't already know about. It's all so that, facing the guns that will inevitably turn her way for jumping out like that, she can wave disinterestedly and vanish completely. To the cannon fodder, anyways. The highest ranking officer she's aware of is already now quite aware of her, given that she has somehow already strung him up with so much ill-defined black line, carried him off behind a shelled out building front, and begun ferociously assaulting his mind with her own indomitably selfish force of narrative will, even grabbing him by the chin and holding his gaze to imperiously repeat her order several times: "Pull back forces. Order temporary ceasefire. The enemy is about to collapse into a defensive formation. Prepare for siege."
Ishirou	Lilian seems to believe they're being manipulated by an outside force. Considering this, some things fall into place. Why they broke their contract like this, why they're trying to take control...and why they're fighting each other instead of combining forces. This could also mean the AI's been compromised. Alright, he's just got to listen again, this time he's trying to find various officers and their locations. He's got their leader, but where are unit commanders, field officers, ect. Once he has that information, he'll update that on the tacnet. Then he'll focus on trying to assume direct control of the drones, hoping to take control of them before he's discovered, upgrading his virus to try and get into their systems or at least convince the AI that they should only listen to him.
James Bond	The aide gets a firm handshake from Bond, whose disposition has changed entirely now that there aren't any drones present to capture footage of him. The drive here was murder--though Bond supposes the damage the car took on the way just might make his disguise that much more convincing, when it comes time to use it again. Helping himself to some coffee (black, no sugar), he joins the aide in poring over copies of the contracts. "Alright," he says, after a thorough examination. "Not that I'd defend the contract even if that were a stipulation, but we can at least be certain it wasn't part of the terms." Bond lifts a briefcase, clearing a spot on the table, opening both clasps and revealing a false bottom with a slim, compact computer inside. "That begs the question of drove them to act as if it was." It sounds like either brazenly daring the government to call their bluff, or the result of some kind of subterfuge. While the computer powers on, Bond adjusts the dial on his wristwatch. The analog face is in fact a clever digital facade--which fades to reveal a waveform display fluctuating in time with the local broadband. <J-IC-Scene> Ishirou says, "Alright I am getting SOME intel here. The Blue Guys, the ones at the radio tower are called Aeronautics Defense Contrtacts Inc, or SEA for short. The best way he can think of to determine whether this is opportunistic bravado passed down to the rank-and-file as fact, or something more complex, is to do a little research on both companies. Thankfully, the Paladins offer rather thorough briefings. He takes a seat. Newspaper clippings, sensitive communiques from various state departments, detailed threat reports, dossiers on leadership and corporate culture compiled by dedicated teams of analysts flash by on the computer as Bond studies them all. His concentrated frown deepens by the end of it, the secret agent leaning forward in his seat, palms pressed together. <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "Bond. Status on the contract?" <J-IC-Scene> James Bond says, "It's foul play. Daring the government to call their bluff isn't usual for either of these. In fact, if anything, they're more known for following the contracts too strictly." Bond powers the computer down, closes the false bottom, then shuts the briefcase. "Well," says the agent to the aide, "Consider yourself lucky," he dryly begins. "You're watching something that shouldn't have been possible. I'd put another pot of coffee on, if I were you." So. Two companies with a reputation for strict adherence to their contracts suddenly break them. Someone switched them out, I'd imagine--but who, and why? No mention of AUS' other clients being aware of this... years of operations in this area with nothing like this happening. Suppose I'll need a little legwork, then. Bond exits the courthouse--but not the same way he came in. Suitcase in tow, he finds a sufficiently quiet (relatively speaking of course) corner of the warzone to change. A plain black set of fatigues quickly shifts colors into the hues more fitting of a SEA officer. The combat rifle with him could conceivably have been procured on-site, and his dogtags and rank insignia ought to hold muster, too--complete with RFID for any SEA drones or armor. Sticking to the shadows of bombed-out buildings, ducking behind abandoned cars, and making use of overhead cover where he can, Bond makes his way to the radio tower in search of a commanding officer. He's got a tranquilizer dart loaded into his watch that should do a fine job of neutralizing them for exfil, if he can just get one alone.
Remee Halcyon	<J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "My professional opinion is that we have a high level Delusion-type event on our hands. Demon class, probably." <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "These soldiers are convinced that everything they're doing is perfectly above board, but have no rational conception of why." ... Remee quietly switches from live ammo to tranquilizer rounds. Also concerning is that she's done such a good job of ~~marking her territory~~ establishing a boundary here, that in addition to the soliders she was trying to scare off, she's scared off most of her potential shelterees. Right. Okay. How to let people know that you're a friendly sniper? ... Well, she could go wolf mode, and put on the 'Rescue Dog' outfit, and herd people towards the building, but that'd mean abandoning her sniper perch while she does that. What can she do with what's close at hand? ... A minute later, she's poking her head under a desk, looking at the office worker that's hiding there. "Hey. You're hired, I'm buying your printers and all your paper and... packing tape and whatever else too, alright?" With materials and workers acquired, Remee sends them a word document written in 12000pt calibri light, and heads back up to her sniper perch to keep the perimter reinforced. Shortly afterwards, a sign starts to form, made of taped together printouts and draped over the side of the building from the roof: S H E L T E R H E R E
Hiromi	Hibiki has to deal with Many Bullet, making it a good thing she's both fast and tough. The drones are more the light and mobile kind, which makes them harder to avoid. They do have blind spots, but they can also turn in place quickly. They're kind of like turrets on wheeled legs, really, just little mobile weapon platforms of pain. They're not, however, as good at getting around as she is, and she can keep ahead of them as long as she wants -- or as long as she doesn't get surrounded. If she happens to realize which streets Remee cleared, that would make that a lot easier. Battlefield awareness is, as ever, an important skill. The human opponents she has a much easier time keeping away from, because they're smart enough not to charge her and aren't on wheels. They're a lot more heavily armored, but slower for it. She still has their attention, in that they're aware of her, and that caution of her means they're not giving away their positions by shooting as much. Overall, a win, if only for the area she's in. Remee gets a bunch of scared office workers to do a crafts project. This is difficult at first, until one office lady works through her natural terror to the point of deciding that she would much rather be doing literally anything allegedly productive over cowering in place, and gets it all organized in professionally quick time. Printers spew out giant letters. Staplers are put to good use. The result would be destroyed at the first sign of rain or storm, but today is a thankfully clear and calm one. The building is marked. People who happen to look start making their way down these few safe streets and through the (wrecked) front door. Petra -- or rather, Ekanamsha, inside of which is Petra -- escapes a barrage of grenades, but the fire of rockets that follow. It's a good thing it's tough, too, or she'd probably just be dead. A second volley of explosives will take long enough to arrive for her to do something about it, but the snipers hunting for vulnerable external points are already taking aim. The buildings lose walls. The radio building itself is unusually sturdy, but can safely be considered 'seriously damaged' after that, all the same. The people inside would probably very much like for the Ekanamsha to go away.
Hiromi	Lilian puts on a show, but she hardly needs to. As soon as she's out in the open, sentries are turning weapons on her. Once her magic lights up, they're firing. The drones go down, regardless, but the soldiers don't let up, treating her as the deathly serious threat she is. Operators maneuver other drones into position, direct squads to flank, and fire from crosses all through her position. Just as well she doesn't stay there. The comms traffic gives Ishirou the necessary info, to be trivially relayed. He doesn't get a name out of it, but the commander in charge is at the monorail station, and Lilian finds him. Meanwhile, Ishirou compromises the aerial drones. The ones that have safely yet to launch are still on the network, as well as the ones hiding on rooftops. The moment he starts directing them, the network is likely to go down, and he'll lose the chance to grab the rest. The main question, then, is whether he wants to take more time and let fewer slip through, or settle for quickly getting most of them. Meanwhile meanwhile, James Bond puts different skills to similar purpose in a different area. As with Lilian at the monorail, the identity of the commander is available via Ishirou's electronic surveillance. Bond just has to get there, avoid the lines of fire between the soldiers there and Petra, act like a returning officer doing something too important to be interrupted, and make his way into the basement. It's about as could be expected. Rows of equipment, not so much in immediate use as wired into SEA's own equipment so they can control the building while maintaining some degree of cybersec. The main impediment to him walking off with the commander, an older man making furious expressions at a tactical display in the center, is that there are several other people in the room, and everyone in the room is wearing some degree of heavy armor. But not helmets.
Hiromi	The AUS commander doesn't have anything like the kind of defenses that could stop Lilian from stringing him up and carrying him somewhere quiet to mind-whammy over and over. For that matter, the heavy armor isn't a daunting an issue for her physical strength. The armor's assist effect is probably strong enough to break any set of cuffs someone would be likely to be carrying, but it's trivial for her to sabotage it in the time available to her, if she doesn't think that unnecessary. She is definitely not someone he expects to be giving him orders, but she enforces an alternate interpretation of reality in which this shouldn't be questioned. Visibly, and in his thoughts, she can see him struggling, but repeated force together with the fairly reasonable nature of her demands make that futile. It's perfectly within expectations for the present situation to shift into a siege. He'd already considered the possibility and made plans for it. He just has to deliver the orders. His immediate subordinates are well-trained, informed, and know what to do. "Switch to pattern delta." He's speaking into his suit radio. "All forces, pattern delta." That's all it takes. The orders are relayed, refined into situational, sepcific orders to regroup, mentioning 'collapsing to hardened lines' and 'fighting withdrawal' to map coordinates and prepared positions. His mind doesn't hold all the specifics, but all that matters is that someone down the command chain does.
Ishirou	Ishirou can get /most/ of the drones...but if he waits any longer any chance to do anything will slip by him. Well, he prefers perfect, but he'll have to settle for less than complete control. The ones out there are already being handled by Hibiki, so he'll have to trust her to do it. That and he notices the green forces starting to withdraw, and the blue pushing. Well, this presents an opportunity. He activates all of the drones that he can, the ones that haven't launched yet, launch, but turn around to start crashing through the radio building. Each one training guns on various people. Based on what Lilian said they weren't suicidal, so he's counting on that and the fact that he got the drop on them. "Ahem, SEA.." Ishirou says taking control of nearby speakers, televisions, and whatever he can to make his voice known. "I am Ishirou of the Paladins. I have control of the drones in your base and the ones not deployed out here. That is roughly seventy percent of your drone forces. I am asking, your commander, Commander Firmanda to call for a tactical retreat as the other forces are retreating." "If not, I will send my reserves into the basement to force a surrender. Please take my kind and generous offer, while our leaders meet with you to discuss the matter of this battle, or at the very least withdraw the civilians out of the way. I await your answer kindly!" He might have been learning from Tamamo.
James Bond	<J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "My professional opinion is that we have a high level Delusion-type event on our hands. Demon class, probably." <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "These soldiers are convinced that everything they're doing is perfectly above board, but have no rational conception of why." <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "Their survival instinct is still intact, but most of the usual options aren't responding; none of them seem to be experiencing a reasonable amount of fear, nor are they doing anything to cope with the flight reflex. They're irrationally convinced that they're the designated winning party and aren't thinking of their long term costs." <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "I can't deprogram this many of them at once. I'm going to have to hunt for the officers and see how effective their issuing a ceasefire will be. Bond. Ishirou. Locate them, if you would." "Already there." Avoiding fire is easy enough when it's pointed at you--one can guess simply enough the route one ought to take. 'Away.' So too can one guess that, generally speaking, any fire is going to be pointed right in one's direction. Sprinting through a crossfire is another matter--one with the element of uncertainty. Luck, in all its forms, must be courted, never feared. Bond sprints through the crossfire with all the urgency of a battlefield courier, vaulting a dented mail drop box, diving for cover with inches to spare following the Ekanamsha's impact with the side of the building. Rolling clear of rubble and rising to his feet to get clear of the inevitable reprisal, he's home free with only a few scrapes. Again, nothing if not a little extra detail for the disguise. "Move," he says, gently stiffarming a grunt on his way in, acting in that way that says he's exactly where he's supposed to be, and on important business. His stride is purposeful, eyes forward. Before he crosses the threshold, Bond slips on a pair of wraparound sunglasses with unusually dark lenses. "Sir." All armored. But no helmets. Not a lot of room for error. A requisition form--rather, a convincing fake--is thrust at the officer before the tactical display. All it needs is a signature. The moment he presses the cam, every bit of detail in the room is erased by blinding white. Bond's hands strip the clipboard from his grasp, leg placed between his to leverage him into a sideways toss. His fist crashes into the older man's temple in a brutally efficient takedown immediately following the throw. Several others remain--from a knelt position, he lets fly three darts in an arc, aimed at the faces of the other stunned mercenaries in the room, neatly handling one side at the cost of having no darts for the other. Rolling beneath a table, his leg strikes out in a backwards kick, unnatural strength sending it flying towards the opposite end of the room. The flash-induced blindness won't last long, and he's got to keep them guessing the whole time, right up until they're out. Back on his feet, Bond leaps atop and over the central console the CO had been using, fist reared back to collide with the throat of one of the staggered mercs, the butt of his rifle striking across the temple of another shortly after his landing. Closing the distance on the last one, he deflects an attempted weapon-pull with the back of his wrist, twists the offending arm. The merc's head is introduced forcefully to an old, resilient piece of radio equipment. "They'll air anything these days," Bond says quietly, ditching the sunglasses and hefting the commander over his shoulder. If he can just find a helmet to get on him, he can play the 'exfiltrating a wounded friendly' bit all the way home.
Hibiki Tachibana	The unending tide of Many Bullet is one that's always a pain in the butt to deal with, no matter how many times she does it, but it definitely beats letting them shoot at one another. The worrying sound of explosions back the way of the radio building is almost enough to get her to switch tracks, but she has to keep focused or else she's gonna be the one in trouble. In her constant movements to keep ahead of the pack and keep attention on her, she actually does hit a corner that leads her in the direction of Remee's 'sniper alley' - and hits the turn that'll take her in the exact opposite direction of it. Unobstructed and already-clear streets help a lot, but the last thing she's going to do is put the now-properly signed civilian shelter in any more danger than it has to be. She won't say no to some supporting fire from behind, though. Regardless of all that, though, there's something she's actively working towards rather than just aimlessly running these things around. Hibiki takes the long route to backtrack a block or three towards one of the roads already cleared by the Green Boys on their warpath, which just so happens to be - oh, that sure exactly where that sniper who was aiming her down before is perched up. She very intentionally puts herself in visual range for what she does next. "Hah!" Which is skid to a metal-on-asphault stop, do an about face on the spot, and then /shoot/ back into all the drones she had piled up chasing behind her. The pilebunker on her gauntlet rips back right as she goes to crumple her fist into the metal of the first one in line, keep on going to punch it into a second - and then punch the mechanism in, to send a wave of raw force ripping through as many of them as possible in one go. Take out as many as possible, clean up after, and maybe if these guys really do still have at least their survival instinct intact, the sight might take a little bit of the fight out of them.
Petra Soroka	Petra slams her fists into the controls, battered, eyes stinging from more than just the smoke. "God damned fucking worthless hunk of metalllllll!" She kicks hard enough to break a toe if her boots weren't steel reinforced. Outside the dust cloud, the Ekanamsha's turret swings out violently, scorched but not destroyed. Rather than aiming at anything in particular though, the barrel just slams like a hammer into the building nearest to her, doing an inordinate amount more of property damage and knocking the mech away with enough force that she can take off and dodge the next volley properly. The turret continues swinging around in the air in the most rudimentary expression of a temper tantrum. Petra tries to calm down, but breathing exercises aren't suited for an active firefight. She can't leave things like this though! Failing to contribute, in front of everyone. Help the civilians reach the safe house? No, her mech is too much of a target now. Target centers of command? But Lilian said they might be brainwashed, or something. Too much is going on, and Petra is completely frozen in indecision.
Hiromi	Bond's plan goes off with nary a hitch. Without their helmets, everyone in the dark command room is fully vulnerable to the initial flash, and initially reluctant to open fire in a room full of officers, without even being able to see their attacker. One row goes down immediately after the commander is stunned, and the next follows, not quite able to fire a shot. The helmets aren't far away. The CO's own fits nicely, and there aren't any external markings to indicate his rank, doubtless to avoid him being specifically targeted by enemies in the field. Though some shouted warnings did make it out, and some of the radio equipment was likely live, there's a window of opportunity before anyone figures out exactly what just happened. In the meantime, no more orders will be issued from this post for some while yet. That makes things complicated for the ones able to respond to Ishirou. They can't go up the command chain to determine what to do about his demand. They can't regain control of the drones at all easily, especially after cutting the connections to prevent him from taking the whole fleet. By the time someone goes to physically check on Firmanda, Bond will have already absconded. There's an uneasy silence from the officers, but the grunts won't wait for orders if the compromised drones approach -- they're opening fire. Hibiki's efforts at leashing hunters proves effective, greatly helped by having gotten far enough from the humans after her that they've let the drone AI do its things. It's smart enough not to let them bunch up too closely, but not enough to avoid the full force of her shockwave punches once she's at speed. The things are highly maneuverable, but overcoming the inertia of keeping up with her is its own difficulty, and exploiting that moment creates a line of miniature explosions and wreckage, along with the firecrackers of ammunition cooking off when when something is energetically crunched in exactly the wrong (right) way. Together with that command to pull back, they decide to leave her well enough alone, counting her running off with the drones while they retreat as a win.
Lilian Rook	Despite the fact that she'd never doubted it for a second, Lilian feels herself filled with palpable relief when her aggressive, combat-speed abduction and reprogramming actually works out. It was, after all, her first time doing something that deeply reminiscent of the Letter Agency, rather than in her more typical fashion. She allows her focus on the binds to slip, allowing them to slowly decohere until they're fragile enough to snap, turning to black metallic dust when they are. Slowly enough by far to allow her to exit and respond to another call. <J-IC-Scene> James Bond says, "Side blue exfil in progress." It isn't complicated. Lilian simply follows Bond's tactical beacon, uses the time she's been conservatively saving so far to reach him, and deals with his possibly concussed captive in much the same way, asking James to hold up a walkie if need be. The orders are a little different, seeing as Ishirou has turned the drone network back on them, but that just makes it more believable to settle into a mutual siege stance after the current treat, and to prevent from overextending into heavy losses like they naturally should be wary of. At some point, she whispers to herself, "This is why we have the Tenth Code. Fucking amateurs." and then shortly after, extricates herself, job done well enough, to respond to the loudest boom that she's heard stand out from the background of explosives. Something kinetic. Not concussive. Leaving Bond with his officer again, Lilian scouts the adjacent street, peers down the main lane to the radio tower from stealth, and then summarily scoffs in displeasure at the sight of Petra's walking tank, already smoking and flailing. "Well, I did say so. Perhaps I'm getting a little too used to everyone having a habit of unusually defying obvious odds." Dual boot-clangs, hard and metal, reverberate faintly through the hull and into the cockpit. The Ekanashma's view screens are probably intact enough to see the vaguely feminine black silhouette half-crouched on the glacis, and quite likely the blade almost as long as she is tall, finally bared. Drawn back, point level with two aiming fingers, Lilian ducks under the swinging barrel, then thrusts into the turret slope with a stepless lunge. She mouths something inaudible on the monitors, which briefly crackle with static around the image of her sword. From Petra's end, a jet black sword blade, mirror polished, etched with countless fine arboreal engravings, pierces right through the hull, slips through a gap her gunnery wheel and locks into place, and stops with its tip ungently pressed against her collarbone. Given a moment to comprehend, it looks as if it didn't actually pierce through the armour to do so, but took advantage of existing rocket damage, and somehow phased through or displaced the spalled material still filling the gap. A combination of almost precognitively opportunistic, and specifically skilled, all to lock up her steering and aiming control, and gently menace her into halting her rampage. "It seems I was right." Come the coldly imperious tones from just outside, still filtering through the speakers. "This really is your first time on a battlefield, isn't it? Even with a walking tank like this, I can read the 'body language' of someone in an angry panic. What in god's name was the Watch thinking in allowing you to come here? Why did you agree? Did it just sound like a terribly fun time to you?" "Well, no matter. Your machine isn't fantastic, but even I can tell that it's clearly wasted on you. I told you exactly what you did wrong right from the very start. Now the professionals have the situation under control, so any further damage will no longer be considered collateral. Do you understand me? " The part she mutters next probably isn't actually for Petra to hear, over the subtle scrape of withdrawing metal. "After hearing that word, I'd expected a pilot of Dylan's or Persephone's calibre. Not this amateur."
James Bond	<J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "I've successfully subverted the AUS chain of command on side green." <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "This is why we have the Tenth Code." <J-IC-Scene> James Bond says, "Side blue exfil in progress." <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "You have the CO?" <J-IC-Scene> James Bond says, "I do." <J-IC-Scene> Ishirou says, "I'm running interferance for Bond, and also trying to get the blue people on the ground to back off green until we can settle this." <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "I'll be right there." He believes it--not much is capable of holding up Lilian, in his experience. His watch hooks into Ishirou's tacnet, serving as a beacon for her to reach him once he's gotten out of the sightlines of the mercs scrambling from Ishirou (and Petra's mechscapades). VIP thus secured and whammied by Lilian, Bond plays along. "Good idea, sir. Get back behind the lines--I'll find any stragglers out in the no-man's land and send them back our way." Of course, he doesn't do anything to unbind the man until he's had a chance to watch him awkwardly amble away--at which point he levels his watch and lasers the thin black thread at his legs, keeping the man's arms bound. Bond can't be blamed for having a little fun on the job, can he? The agent disappears into the warzone, his adaptive fatigues taking on a more neutral shade, rank insignias and patches stripped and thrown into a storm drain. He's got some very interesting news for the local government, once he gets back to the courthouse. Hopefully, that aide went through with a fresh pot of coffee.
Hiromi	With one side withdrawing to lines close to the monorail station, and the other, under Lilian's persistent persuasion to accept Ishirou's terms, consolidating near the (damaged) radio building as what's still their strongest point, even with most of their drone fleet taken from them, things are finally dying down. No one is fighting even close to the holdout areas in the center, nor near the 'shelter here' office building. Whatever's happening at sea is still out there, and of no immediate concern. It's the perfect time to figure out what happened to the commanders and, by extension, their subordinates, on down through both chains of command. If Lilian is right, all of them have been compromised by some mental effect. Undoing whatever happened to their leaders is the natural solution, should it be true that they're anywhere near as professional as Bond's research indicated. As long as no one's shooting, there's plenty of time to work out what happened and undo it. Everything will be fine. Somewhere, an ordinary office lady hangs up a phone, and leans against the glass walls, overlooking the city. It's not a mystery when the culprit gives a self-introduction just before the final clue. High up the slope of the long-dormant volcano around which the island forms, the ground explodes, impacted from a meteor no observatory had been prepared to predict. The ground rumbles, air rushes, the dust clouds roll and hang until the wind slowly drags them away, seeming glacial only for its size. The one who arrived leaps over the monorail station, turns before reaching the radio building, strikes two feet onto a nearby roof, then the other two feet to another. No seat being high enough to satisfy her, the ground beneath the street comes to meet her, pavement and pipes breaking apart as earth and stone winds into a spire, and buildings groan and shift and crack away from it. The positions of every force, elites included, is visible from there -- neglecting those who might, as one may wisely do, hide.
Hiromi	Her voice carries cleanly, when she stands on two legs, and stretches her arms wide. It should be difficult to make her out from there, at such a distance, at least a hundred feet above. It isn't. It's easy. It would be more difficult not to notice her. She commands attention, and the instinct, whether human or not, is to obey, whether because one commanded it, or because any threat of this scale requires careful attention to judge how it may be fought or escaped. She doesn't look like she's far off. She doesn't sound like she's far off. She doesn't feel like she's far off. Her presence is close by, and her words are understandable, even the ones that aren't words at all, though comprehending an idea is sometimes more difficult. "Fights without winners. A return to ignorant peace. A land of many packs, arguing over which rules. Dependence upon the foreign. Allegiance to written words, believing they won't change. Easily! Do you not see this folly? Illusions are simply broken. Their promises were made with ink, not in their hearts, but I gave them this chance." Hiromi looks down. The spire rumbles with her voice. "To reject wisdom, you must show strength. If none of this land will be a victor, you, you foreigner, you will show me. Show me you have the strength to overturn wisdom. Only then will you deserve forgiveness. A challenge cannot be left without a victor. A throne, empty, helps no one." Those suspecting that this is an invitation to argue any of her points will find that they are wrong, and further, that drawing attention to oneself without preparing for a close, physical encounter would be very unwise. She's already given as much warning as anyone will get.