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xp_logsDoug, Callisto, Bishop, and Jubilee share information. Special forces are being shipped in, the Citadel is a hardened monstrosity, and it's using up a lot of power.
The 'Starlight Road Music Lounge' (or if the badly done characters of the Chinese sign were to be believed, the 'Ride Our Glowing Space Highway with your Mouth') was tucked into a strip not far from the beach, bracketed by small Chinese food restaurants, sushi bars, and Indian buffets. Inside, it was dominated by cheap tiki props and a collection of tables around a central stage. Hand drawn signs advertised all night karaoke, and prizes for the best song of the night. Filled mostly with Asian tourists drunk on over strong rum cocktails, it was loud and raucous, even in the early evening.
In short, a perfect place to hold an anonymous conversation.
Doug was leaned back in the booth, looking for all the world like a young American college student on a late spring break or early summer vacation. He'd done his best to change his look completely, and even the most observant of people would be hard pressed to connect him to the young executive assistant that had been on the tarmac of the airport with Emma Frost. "I feel like there's some way to turn 'Ride Our Glowing Space Highway With Your Mouth' into an oral sex innuendo, but I can't quite make it work," he murmured.
Callisto, folded implausibly into a corner of their little booth, all lean limbs and angles, snorted, shooting the young man a faintly incredulous look from under her shaggy bangs. "Then you're doing it wrong," she said with a dry smirk. "Ride whose glowing space highway where with my mouth? What the fuck are you talking about?"
"It might work better if you can get it across the recipient is female." Bishop offered idly, glancing in mirrors and through windows to make his observations less apparent. He was still playing the role of Wakandan but had toned down the dignitary vibe, considering the club. "Makes more sense to me like that."
"Why do I suddenly feel like I'm in an episode of Genosha shore, or something," Jubilee quipped, taking a sip from the coke she'd brought at the bar, sans alcohol since she was currently on the job. "By the way, you'd be like, epically surprised at how seriously slack lipped some of the Genoshian security detail can get when you liquor them up. Now there's some dudes that know how to bitch, they were like, 'I'm totally being replaced by some dickweed special forces dude, blahblahblah, insecureblah, I'm about to get my ass fired for talking to foreign nationals, blah. Well, okay, like, they didn't actually say all that, but that's what I got out of it. So yeah, tightened security, special dudes, looks like someone is up to something."
"Pretty much what I heard," Callisto confirmed with a short nod. "They've been shipping 'special forces' in for the past li'l while, just beefing stuff up generally. "Also heard they're transferring more magistrates in next week."
"Okay, here's what I've been able to get on the Citadel," Doug said. He hadn't been able to get straight in through the firewalls the Genoshan Magistrates had put around their internal information, but you could piece together a surprising amount if you knew how to trawl for the data. Official government requests for bid proposals, building contractor records of materials and labor hours... Genosha might not have had an equivalent to the US Freedom of Information Act, but paper trails always existed, no matter how secretive the location might be.
He drew a vague outline on the table with a finger to give everyone an idea of the shape of the place. "Hardened bunkers here, here, here, and here," he said, indicating spots on the outline. "And they were smart in the construction. Not completely self-contained, obviously, but all the systems require internal access. Dedicated and protected underground cabling for power and communications, weapons lockers in each bunker, accessways all covered by multiple fields of fire..." The implication was clear, the bunkers would make a direct assault chancy at best, and had clearly been designed to discourage and stymie infiltration.
"If we want open doors, we need a way to cut power. High energy consumption usually means a power management room. We'd need a key, too. A central control room will be much harder to get access too." Bishop offered, seeing the things the structure had in common with the jails he was more familiar with.
Jubilee made a thoughtful sound, the kind of thing you did when processing something but not wanting people to think you weren't listening. "They don't have any portable suppression means for mutants, which seems a little weird given this place's hate on for mutants. How the hell are they keeping our people from escaping?"
She didn't mention how she'd found out that little gem of information, or that it had taken using a skill set she wasn't particularly comfortable using, it went unsaid that they'd use whatever was necessary to bring their people home.
Doug caught the note in Jubilee's voice, and the slight tension in her body language. But it wasn't like he could ask her what it meant, since their breakup. He'd managed a tentative truce with Marie-Ange lately, but things were still too raw between him and Jubilee. "Best guess, Magistrates and larger non-portable suppression tech. That could be why they're shipping the extra personnel in - as they drop more people down whatever hole they've been using, they need more people to make sure they don't break out." It would also explain the high energy usage in the Citadel itself.
He leaned forward intently. "One thing's clear. The longer we wait, the more entrenched the Magistrates can get." He placed his hands on the table and looked at everyone else individually. It wasn't really his tendency to be the decisive type, the one to make a strong statement and set a group's policy. He preferred reacting, being the number two to Emma or Remy or even Marie-Ange. But all the information they had, and the reality of too many of their people being held, pushed him toward it.
"We need to make our move. Hit them. And soon."
The 'Starlight Road Music Lounge' (or if the badly done characters of the Chinese sign were to be believed, the 'Ride Our Glowing Space Highway with your Mouth') was tucked into a strip not far from the beach, bracketed by small Chinese food restaurants, sushi bars, and Indian buffets. Inside, it was dominated by cheap tiki props and a collection of tables around a central stage. Hand drawn signs advertised all night karaoke, and prizes for the best song of the night. Filled mostly with Asian tourists drunk on over strong rum cocktails, it was loud and raucous, even in the early evening.
In short, a perfect place to hold an anonymous conversation.
Doug was leaned back in the booth, looking for all the world like a young American college student on a late spring break or early summer vacation. He'd done his best to change his look completely, and even the most observant of people would be hard pressed to connect him to the young executive assistant that had been on the tarmac of the airport with Emma Frost. "I feel like there's some way to turn 'Ride Our Glowing Space Highway With Your Mouth' into an oral sex innuendo, but I can't quite make it work," he murmured.
Callisto, folded implausibly into a corner of their little booth, all lean limbs and angles, snorted, shooting the young man a faintly incredulous look from under her shaggy bangs. "Then you're doing it wrong," she said with a dry smirk. "Ride whose glowing space highway where with my mouth? What the fuck are you talking about?"
"It might work better if you can get it across the recipient is female." Bishop offered idly, glancing in mirrors and through windows to make his observations less apparent. He was still playing the role of Wakandan but had toned down the dignitary vibe, considering the club. "Makes more sense to me like that."
"Why do I suddenly feel like I'm in an episode of Genosha shore, or something," Jubilee quipped, taking a sip from the coke she'd brought at the bar, sans alcohol since she was currently on the job. "By the way, you'd be like, epically surprised at how seriously slack lipped some of the Genoshian security detail can get when you liquor them up. Now there's some dudes that know how to bitch, they were like, 'I'm totally being replaced by some dickweed special forces dude, blahblahblah, insecureblah, I'm about to get my ass fired for talking to foreign nationals, blah. Well, okay, like, they didn't actually say all that, but that's what I got out of it. So yeah, tightened security, special dudes, looks like someone is up to something."
"Pretty much what I heard," Callisto confirmed with a short nod. "They've been shipping 'special forces' in for the past li'l while, just beefing stuff up generally. "Also heard they're transferring more magistrates in next week."
"Okay, here's what I've been able to get on the Citadel," Doug said. He hadn't been able to get straight in through the firewalls the Genoshan Magistrates had put around their internal information, but you could piece together a surprising amount if you knew how to trawl for the data. Official government requests for bid proposals, building contractor records of materials and labor hours... Genosha might not have had an equivalent to the US Freedom of Information Act, but paper trails always existed, no matter how secretive the location might be.
He drew a vague outline on the table with a finger to give everyone an idea of the shape of the place. "Hardened bunkers here, here, here, and here," he said, indicating spots on the outline. "And they were smart in the construction. Not completely self-contained, obviously, but all the systems require internal access. Dedicated and protected underground cabling for power and communications, weapons lockers in each bunker, accessways all covered by multiple fields of fire..." The implication was clear, the bunkers would make a direct assault chancy at best, and had clearly been designed to discourage and stymie infiltration.
"If we want open doors, we need a way to cut power. High energy consumption usually means a power management room. We'd need a key, too. A central control room will be much harder to get access too." Bishop offered, seeing the things the structure had in common with the jails he was more familiar with.
Jubilee made a thoughtful sound, the kind of thing you did when processing something but not wanting people to think you weren't listening. "They don't have any portable suppression means for mutants, which seems a little weird given this place's hate on for mutants. How the hell are they keeping our people from escaping?"
She didn't mention how she'd found out that little gem of information, or that it had taken using a skill set she wasn't particularly comfortable using, it went unsaid that they'd use whatever was necessary to bring their people home.
Doug caught the note in Jubilee's voice, and the slight tension in her body language. But it wasn't like he could ask her what it meant, since their breakup. He'd managed a tentative truce with Marie-Ange lately, but things were still too raw between him and Jubilee. "Best guess, Magistrates and larger non-portable suppression tech. That could be why they're shipping the extra personnel in - as they drop more people down whatever hole they've been using, they need more people to make sure they don't break out." It would also explain the high energy usage in the Citadel itself.
He leaned forward intently. "One thing's clear. The longer we wait, the more entrenched the Magistrates can get." He placed his hands on the table and looked at everyone else individually. It wasn't really his tendency to be the decisive type, the one to make a strong statement and set a group's policy. He preferred reacting, being the number two to Emma or Remy or even Marie-Ange. But all the information they had, and the reality of too many of their people being held, pushed him toward it.
"We need to make our move. Hit them. And soon."
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