Mission Briefing
IC date: Spring 27
OOC date: April 17
Location: Dragonfire Island
PCs: Blackbird Rusty-Gears
NPCs: Tarnish

A couple days journey by boat leaves the 'happy' crew of the S. S. Merkboat within sight of the island they've been sailing to. Tarnish, for the most part, has been as pleasant and buddy-buddy as ever throughout the whole trip, though most probing questions have been met with a 'In due time.' response.

Well now is that time! Tarnish has ushered her two partners down into the depths of the ship, where a makeshift 'war room' has been set up. Complete with cardboard on a barrel as a makeshift table, with a hastily drawn map of the nearing island on it, set up underneath a single bright lightbulb. A small stack of folders also lurks nearby the silvery pony.

"Please, have a seat and I'll explain everything…" Tarnish says, motioning to a couple other barrels nearby, the best seats in this run-down rig! "So!" The cheerful earth pony grins at her two guests. "How much do you two know about unicorn technology?"

Blackbird, who has been silent and stony as ever, has taken his seat across from the other available barrel. He looks down at the map, up at the lightbulb, and over at Tarnish — but skips Rusty entirely. "I know a thing or two," he says briefly.

Rusty-Gears see-saws a hoof, plopping down on the barrel. "Haven't dealt much with it directly." She's been pretty friendly - at least as far as Tarnish is concerned. Amiable enough, and chatty, though she'd admittedly spent most of her time in 'her' room, working on… things. Aside from the blast armor, she hadn't really brought anything out to show off! But she'd certainly been working on /something/. Maybe a lot of somethings.

As for Blackbird, well… she's avoided him like the plague. She seems rather disgruntled to be sharing a room now, in fact. She won't quite look at him, and her ears are back, and she looks just the slightest bit tense.

Tarnish nods slowly. She reaches for the pile of folders, plucking the first one up to set on the table. She opens it to display…a giant metal pony. One can tell it's giant because it's standing next to a small army of actual ponies! It's gotta be at least four times as tall as the tallest in the picture.

"This is Wrecks." Tarnish states, pointing at the giant of a 'statue'. "One of the world's governments went and built a giant unicorn-magic powered beast. Don't ask me why, that's not the sort of intel I was looking for, but there aren't exactly a lot of uses for something like this outside of flat-out war."

Tarnish gives a moment to let this first bit sink in, then continues. "A terrorist group named Dragonfire saw a chance to take advantage of a…demonstration that was going on. They snagged this thing, brought it to this island, and now we've been hired to take it back."

Blackbird leans over the table and looks at the metal creature, mouth tightening a little. He slides the papers closer, glancing over available specs, gears turning in his head. After a moment, he slides the papers toward Rusty, chancing a glance at her before looking away again. "And we're taking it back to…which government?"
Rusty-Gears twitches an ear, looking over with notable interest. Now /that/ is a big machine. A big fancy powerful machine. Oooooh. She does glance up towards Tarnish too, though, at Blackbird's question.

"That bit's still classified for the moment." Tarnish notes, giving the table a tap with a hoof. "If we can't outright re-appropriate it, we're supposed to destroy it. Either way we can't leave it in the hooves of a terrorist group."

The next folder is plucked up and tossed onto the table, three photographs sliding out. "These are the three main leaders of Dragonfire." The first picture is a pegasus in a red jumpsuit. Because everybody loves making their own version of Wonderbolts attire, right? "They call him The Wind. He's a pegasus that specializes in tornado-creation. He's in charge of their air support and transportation. He'll be your first target."

The second picture is of a…well it's hard to say what it is aside from pony shaped, if vaguely, and wrapped up like a sort of odd mummy. "This is The Sneak. I uh…" Tarnish clears her throat, "…don't actually have any details about them. They're the right-hoof of the leader though, and supposed to be really good at what you'd expect. Sneaking, spying, probably assassination too."

Then the last picture is pushed out. This is a very burly-looking stallion. A unicorn, no less! Dark brown, with steel grey eyes and an expression like he's about to kill whoever's holding the camera that just took that picture. "And this is Big Hoss. He's been kicked out of most countries for enough reasons that even if he didn't start up this little terrorist group, he'd have a heck of a bounty on his head. He's our ultimate goal, aside from reclaiming Wrecks."

Blackbird takes each of these details in turn, frowning thoughtfully at the photos as they're presented. Big Hoss earns a soft snort. "He looks like a piece of work," he comments. For a moment, his expression seems to soften into hesitation and uncertainty, perhaps as he contemplates exactly what he's getting himself into again. But it only takes a few long moments before it slides back into stony neutrality. Snowfield is probably broken and hurting in her hut, because of him. He hasn't changed; he's no different than he ever was. No use thinking otherwise.

Rusty-Gears gives a small snort of her own, looking the pictures over before sitting back. "Big, small, otherwise. Everypony explodes the same," she states matter-of-factly. "Magic won't stop that."

Tarnish nods solomnly, gathering the pictures back up into the folders. "That's what I'm counting on." The map-table once again cleared, Tarnish points at a spot on the crude drawing that could be a beach. "My current plan has us docking about here. Once we're docked, you two need to start heading up the beachline here…" she traces the edge of the island, "…until you get to where the mountains stop and the jungle begins. There's an outpost hut around there that we can use to rendezvous. If I've planned this right, you'll have a chance to take out The Wind on the way…"

Blackbird nods slowly— then pauses. And looks at Rusty. "…Guess we'll be walking together, huh?" he comments hesitantly. Which he has mixed feelings about, brewing under that enforced neutrality. He looks… disgruntled. Yes. But when is he ever gruntled, anyway?
Rusty-Gears glances sideways at him, giving a curt nod. "Guess so. Where'll you be?" she asks, pointing a hoof to Tarnish, "while we're taking out Tornado Boy here?

"Figuring out our next move." Tarnish says, pointing towards the center of the island. "The main bunker's here. That's where Big Hoss usually lurks, and where the Wrecks is being held. I'm going to try to figure out a good way to get you guys inside where we can take care of this problem." She lets the hints of a grin play at her muzzle. "See, I was kinda sorta one of them until about a day before I recruited you two. So they trust me. As far as trust goes in a unit like that anyway."

"I see." Blackbird rubs his chin thoughtfully. "So we'll take the long route and use surprise to our advantage, while you use their trust against them. You'll rendezvous with us at the hut, and we'll set out from there?"

Tarnish grins at Blackbird. "That's the current plan! I was…sent out to deliver ultimatims to the nearby governments, so they're expecting me to come back anyway. They're not expecting me to be bringing support to bring their arses down. Hopefully after you take out their air support we can nail the other targets while they're confused about who could possibly have found out."

Rusty-Gears blinks, glancing up at Tarnish and tilting an ear but nodding slowly. "Clever," is her only comment, before she glances back down at the map. She looks it over again, trying to commit as much to memory as she could.

"That sounds like a plan," Blackbird replies, nodding in agreement to Rusty's comment. "So. How long before we land?"

"I should hope so." Tarnish states, sitting up a little straighter. "It was my job to be. Just ask BB. I was the brains, and he was the brawns of most of our assignments." The silvery pony ponders. "A few more hours… I'd suggest staying down here until we make dock. There's a couple boxes to hide in over there, just in case someone comes down to double-check. Security purposes and all that."

Rusty-Gears nods. "I should probably gather my things, then. Make sure none of that gets found."

"Just point and shoot," Blackbird mutters. It's true: he was the brawns. After all, all his smarts were executed between missions, not during, when he invented weapons and chemical concoctions for the Rose. "I'm ready to go whenever we land. I took little."