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“If that is what is required to earn your trust and a place on this team, so be it. If I need to disarm, I am willing to comply.” Still holding the removed maid outfit, the gynoid walked over to Rory, walking until she was about a meter away from her. Though Instructor seemed somewhat relieved, her frown remained. “So, what do we currently need to do? Is one of our objectives nearby?”

"I am not from around here, I'm afraid, and I do not have any maps of this area in my database." Instructor's frown deepened at the second question. "As for the issue of trust... If my word cannot convince you that I am well and truly on your side, I'm afraid I do not know how I would gain it, short of giving you my weapons for the time being."

Instructor frowned at Rory’s glare. When she and Walmond returned to the group, the gynoid asked, “So, am I permitted to join the group or not? I can assure you that I will follow your commands, administer medical attention in the event of an injury, and eliminate any threats to the mission. Even if I cannot provide anything else of value to the team, my armored body is capable of intercepting multiple rifle rounds before it ceases to function.” The gynoid leaned forwards a bit in a slight bow. “I was informed that it would be impossible for me to eliminate these ‘Trespassers’ on my own. Please. If our missions are the same, let me work with you.”

"Not at all. If it helps, I will identify myself." The armored maid(?) took the time to remove its maid outfit, before continuing. "I am Kaida Corporation Prototype Training Series Model 00-27C, Serial Number F7DXOQ29604509X, also known as 'Instructor Prototype'. Manufactured September 18th, 1927. Placed into storage February 8th, 1943. Reactivated March 15th, 1985. I still have access to my weapon database, which includes knowledge of how to effectively maintain and use weapons on both an individual and a squad level. I also still have access to my 'Aim Assist' protocol and am currently equipped with a number of items that I believe can be helpful to our mission. Assuming, that is, that you are indeed the people I will work with."

"The instructions I was given were simple - find and eliminate creatures referred to as 'Trespassers'. I was informed that these beasts were a threat to all life in existence, and, by extension, Kaida Corporation. Is killing these creatures your mission as well?" Upon seeing Rory shake her head, the armored maid(?) tilted her head. "Your colleague over there seems to disagree..."

The maid(?) slowly got to her(?) feet, brushing dust off of the uniform that had been stretched over her white armor, turning to the woman in the green outfit. Her face was hidden beneath a simple mask - a sheet of metal the same color as her armor, covering almost all of her face save the mouth. "I don't understand. I thought I was supposed to be here as part of my mission. You are not one of the people I am to work with?" She then turned to the rest of the group. "Are any of you familiar with this area? Perhaps the team I am looking for is somewhere else?"

Lyra could hear fighting over to both the Northwest and Southeast, but from what she remembered of people's movements, there weren't any people heading over to assist the Evac Team at the Huge Tent. Knowing that, the choice was simple, even if she felt like a hypocrite for doing almost the exact same Mira had done not too long ago. Once she actually met the thugs that were there, though, she'd have to figure out what she wanted to open the fight with. While she could just rush in and swing at one of the thugs, she figured that wouldn't grab their attention nearly as well as a taunt. With this in mind, she decided to use the same line she would have used on the next group of guards she met, had she not been interrupted. "Your face was the last mistake you'll ever make!" Not original, but succinct. Lyra moves over to the Huge Tent and taunts one of the thugs! As an Ex-Glitcher, Lyra is invigorated by the teleportation. Her INIT increases by (2+8/3) 4! Adrenaline Dodging: Ready! Blur: 0/3 Attacks Fiasco: 0/4 Dodges Point-Blank Throw: Ready! Taunt: Ready! Damaged Item Teleporter: Ready! Safety-Bypassed Rechargeable Medium-Capacity Swapper: 0/3 Charges Damaged Rechargeable Emergency Shield: Ready! Lyra's Stats:

Lyra was about to follow Mira when she realized she had her swapper and that it still worked. "Hey, Mira! Wait! I can just switch places with Trick and bring him right here, I think! One second!" Lyra moves to the Transition between Games and Colorful Blocks, then insta-uses her Swapper to switch places with Trick! Adrenaline Dodging: Ready! Blur: 0/3 Attacks Fiasco: 0/4 Dodges

Lyra sighed after hearing Mira’s explanation. She had the experience to do things on her own, she said? Even if that was the case, then clearly the powers that were - Voidmother or otherwise - thought differently. While Lyra never totally trusted anyone with more power than she had, she at least figured this wasn't some twisted plot to kill the lot of them one by one. Unless it was. In any case, Lyra probably couldn’t get through to her at all, and she didn’t predict good things happening if only the three of them fought Trick. ”Hey, guys! Get two other people to come with us and have the rest head towards the Splash Zone! Markings indicated thugs fighting the extraction team! You need to stop them ASAP!” Hopefully this wasn’t the part where things all went to hell...

Lyra was about to try to formulate the rest of her plan when she realized one of her colleagues was walking off. "Wait, Mira, you can't just go split off like that! If you go in there you're just going to get killed!" It was a few seconds before she realized Mira wasn't stopping. Another person walking off to their own doom... was she just going to keep being reminded of her past? In any case, Lyra couldn't just let Mira split off, and she doubted attempting to directly stop her would end well. That left only one option. Drawing her wrench and breaking into a run, Lyra caught up to Mira, matching her speed once she'd reached her. "Fine. This is a stupid idea, but I'm going with you." If the two of them survived this, Lyra was going to give Mira a slap across the face for her foolishness. Assuming there was a face beneath that helmet. She hadn't seen Mira take it off once since she'd landed on her. Come to think of it, Lyra hadn't removed her own helmet so far. The two of them might want to do so later on. Again, assuming they survived this.

Nodding at the suggestions of her colleagues - splitting up would help keep Trick from attacking the civilians - Lyra turned back to look at the kid. Something about her had reminded Lyra of her own past - and now that the kid was clearly insisting that she go out into the danger, she knew what. She was reminded of her own parents. She could have stopped them. But she didn't. Slowly walking over to the kid, Lyra leaned in a little and told her, "It's better that you stay here. I understand that you want to help, but we're already ready to handle this. You shouldn't put yourself in danger needlessly." Maybe Lyra was lying about being ready to handle the situation, but she wasn't about to let someone else walk into danger when their objectives included getting people out of it, and she definitely wasn't going to repeat the kinds of mistakes she'd paid for in the past. If the kid protested further, she'd probably need more than a few words to keep her from going, but if they did keep her from charging in, that was all the better. Turning back to her colleagues, she resumed. "If we're going to split up, we need to determine what teams we're going to split into." This was definitely above her pay grade - she'd only ever worked alone - but she had to show the team that she was eager to step in and help guide their efforts. "If we split into two teams, one of four and another of five, we'll be able to cover more ground while still retaining a degree of combat strength to take out Trick's thugs and protect the civilians while they evacuate. It's probably best if each team has someone who can heal or restore wounds. We don't know how long this conflict will last, or when - or even if - we'll get a break to regroup. We can't get ourselves worn down over the course of a few fights." After a bit of thinking, Lyra nodded. "I don't know the full extent of your capabilities, so I'd suggest having Perlita and Atton on separate teams so that each team has at least one person who can treat injuries. As for the others, uh... have Bridgett, 6D, and Gabriel go with Perlita, while the rest of us go with Atton..." And she wasn't sure about the latter half of her choices - but surely one of the other group members could help her with that.

Lyra wasn't too happy with the results of her attempts. She'd clearly been out of practice when she was preparing to rescue... She couldn't think about that now. Professionals didn't second-guess their decisions after they'd already been made. They only thought about what they could do right now. And what she could do right now was help take down Trick. ~~~ After the teleportation, she noticed the officer and child. Lyra wasn't sure what to say to the child exactly - she didn't know how or why they intended to help - so Lyra ignored the child for now, turning to the officer instead. "So, do we know where in the park Trick is? And should we prioritize rescuing civilians or hunting Trick down?"

Added a secondary character: Instructor Prototype.

Lyra nodded at the delivery girl before she left, taking one of the cell phones for herself. She wasn't too familiar with these devices, but if they were what she thought they were, they would come in dead handy - provided they got a signal. It sounded like the group was going to have some time before the group left to stop Trick. Time which Lyra could use to improve her equipment - particularly her more damaged pieces. Walking over to the guard outside, she asked, "You wouldn't happen to know where the workshops are? I need to repair some of my things." Lyra attempts to craft:

Lyra wasn't sure how she could even do anything to some of the foes that showed up - her bullets weren't armor-piercing, and her wrench would likely bounce right off of some of the tougher foes, like the massive turtle - but she couldn't let that stop her from fighting. She'd agreed to help out, hadn't she? And a professional didn't go back on her word. "It sounds like Trick's goons will be easier to deal with, and that we'll only have to worry about Trick himself once they're done for. If we also take out some of those monsters if they show up to the fight, we might be able to leave stronger than we were before." Lyra still didn't know what everyone was capable of - and not everyone was as forthcoming or specific as she liked - but she supposed that not everyone would be willing to tell a stranger about all their abilities. Again, she would simply have to bear with that for the time being.

Between Trick and Brave, it was obvious to her that Trick was a priority target. Even as Lyra and her colleagues were speaking, it was killing and eating people, and they couldn't let that happen. "You sure about that? I was going to suggest bringing down Trick first. He's clearly attacking civilians and stopping him is also an urgent matter. Though it seems like whatever it is we do, we'll have to let one of them proceed unhindered, unless we were to split up." Regardless of the target, a series of new questions arose - and Lyra hoped there would be answers for those, too. Approaching problems without plans or intel tended to end poorly - or at least messily. "What exactly are the nature of the backup these two targets have? Additional guns? Shielding or defensive capabilities? Flankers or ambushers? Are there any especially dangerous foes? Are they weak to anything in particular? What other powers or abilities do Brave and Trick have? Is there any other advice you can give for dealing with either one?" Then Lyra turned to the rest of the team. "Since we're going to be moving out soon, we need to make a plan of attack - and part of that means knowing what each of us are capable of. I'm a decent shot with a gun, know how to swing a wrench hard, and my Swapper does still work, although it does seem damaged. I'm also fairly good at dodging attacks. What about you people? What do you bring to the team?"

"Can you tell us more about each of the targets? What weapons and tactics do they use, what they've done in the past, and what they might be trying to do in each of those locations? For that matter, do you happen to have a dossier on each of these people? A photo of each of the targets would help as well. Might not be so useful if they try to hide in a crowd or out of sight, but it would still help identify them." While she wanted to know what "CFW" stood for, what planet she was on, or who this woman was, they probably weren't the most relevant questions regarding the task at hand. Once she had the answers to what the targets were capable of, she could ask her teammates what they could do. Iowa was, if she was telling the truth, equipped with powerful cannons and heavy armor. Perlita could heal others with that... "Persona" of hers.. Lyra wasn't sure about the others - or herself - but, again, she'd have to wait for answers to the other questions first.

Frederick "Freddie" McBride Spectator

Lyra shook her head a bit, trying to recover from both dealing with two conversations at once and the sudden appearance of... whatever it was Perlita had summoned - not to mention her shame at behaving in such an unprofessional manner. "So, your cannons and armor are still functional even when you're... in that state?" Something about that made Lyra's heart sink even further. At least two of the kids had supernatural powers, there was a whole squad of battle-hardened veterans and their vehicle, and now Lyra was learning that Iowa here, outdated or not, had firepower she could never even hope to match. That raised the obvious question of what good Lyra could be to the team. "That's... wonderful..." She mumbled, shaking her head some more, too caught up in her own mix of jealousy, inadequacy, and outright self-pity to really comment on Iowa's past.

Well, maybe the young lady wasn't the most helpful, but she was doing her best, young as she was. Lyra was still uncertain as to why people who were as young - not children, but still young - as she was back when... that... happened, were being brought into this fight, but the way the lady spoke made it clear to Lyra that she had at least accepted whatever offer she'd been given, even if the offer was suddenly thrust upon her the way it had been upon Lyra. That did a little bit to put Lyra at ease. Maybe the people who'd pulled her into this did care about who they chose after all... The description of the things that the Trespasser possession had done to the "Judge" - who was, again, nowhere to be seen, alive or dead - seemed like it would make previous information on a target's powers and abilities somewhat irrelevant - each fight would have to be handled on a case-to-case basis, something Lyra had done before, though none of her targets were any tougher than the guards trying to protect them. Then, after the introductions - Perlita and Gabriel - Lyra was confused at the mentions that they could summon "Personas". All of the summoners she'd seen were, again, from films - often wearing baggy robes, wielding a staff, extremely old, or any combination of the three. Then Perlita summoned... it. It only appeared for a moment, but that was enough for it to be seared into Lyra's mind. A redhead in black, eight feet tall, and with blank white eyes. Lyra immediately staggered backward, mind racing. What the hell was that? How could Perlita make it appear and disappear so easily? How could a creature like that heal wounds? Where did it come from? Was it hiding the whole time? How was someone so young capable of such power? This came forth as a burst of inarticulate stammering. "Wh-How-What is-Who-... How the hell can you do that?" Almost as soon as she said this, Lyra mentally slapped herself. Of course. People from other worlds - that much was obvious! And, of course, they'd have fantastical abilities far beyond the ken of man. Lyra had seen those kinds of films, too. That left the obvious question of... how could she compare to that? Lyra didn't have any special powers. Hell, most of her gear didn't even work properly anymore. How could she... Lyra mentally slapped herself again. It wouldn't do to think like that! That's unprofessional, and the last thing you need to do is look even less professional than you already do! "A-all right, Perlita... I'll let you know..."

Lyra tried to play back the words in her head to make sure she'd heard them correctly. United. States. Ship. Of course. That was what the woman before her had just said. United. States. History wasn't a subject relavant to either maintenance or contract work, but everyone knew what the "United States" was - both Sovereign and Offworld traced their origins back to Earth and, with it, the nation that was the first to colonize the stars. Both companies claimed to uphold the values that had been so crucial to the nation's founding so many years ago, and both stated that they were building on a legacy that was hundreds of years old. Other propaganda - both corporate and pre-spaceflight - unequivocally portrayed it as a nation that while flawed, was built on a foundation of solid gold. The stories told by Lyra's parents, her grandparents, her uncle... they all painted a much different picture than what the corporate netsites claimed. The United States had a government that imprisoned and enslaved its own citizens, and the marks of such oppression never truly faded. People were murdered and raped for the sake of values that were happily ignored when the time to deliver justice came. The very kinds of people who had been critical to the nation's existence as a colony were barred entry due to everything from fears of competition to outright xenophobia. Representatives of the populace acted more out of self-interest than duty, beginning wars at their convenience and walking away unscathed. The public itself was reduced to a blindly flailing mob that certain individuals directed as they pleased, like a desert warlord opening the cage of a Tri-Jaw to unleash it upon his foes. The nation nearly brought the entire world past the brink of destruction, once through nuclear fire, once through toxic smoke. The promises and principles that the nation had been founded on were forgotten within the space of barely two centuries - when far older empires had endured for so much longer.. Perhaps the United States had once been a proud, vibrant nation like all the movies and books had claimed. However, by the time the North Star had launched, it had been worn away until it was nothing more than a self-destructive set of squabbling fragments. A set of fragments that had been left behind by her distant ancestors for a truly fresh start. Of course, it wasn't long before the colonies expanded and established ruling systems of their own - inevitably creating room for their own flavors of hypocrisy, instability, and chaos. But the point still stood - the "United States" Lyra knew was... not a good one. If Lyra decided to tell Iowa about this, she'd have to figure out how to deliver the news tactfully - if such a thing were even possible. Ship. Iowa's statement there was bullshit, of course. A ship was a large mass of metal, silently soaring to the stars... wait, no, that couldn't be. The first - and only - starship that the United States produced was the USS North Star, a colony ship that had gone to SC-299 - "New Columbia". Shortly after the launch, the controversy surrounding the government's choice of colonists and the discovery of a scandal that had caused the North Star to be woefully undersupplied had left the rest of the colonization program to stagnate until the federal government's eventual collapse. That left the more traditional ships - "Seaslicers", for the way their hulls would cut through the water - and, as with planetside land vehicles, Lyra knew very little save for what she had seen in war films. Many of them were much larger than land vehicles, and made use of, depending on the design, either sails or an engine connected to propellers to move. They had watertight bodies - known as "hulls" - that were of vital importance to the ship's performance and continued ability to remain afloat. Ships used by the military were often equipped with cannons, though some of them instead carried airplanes that would spray the enemy with machinegun fire or drop bombs. Others were capable of sinking beneath the waves to deliver deadly strikes with missile-like devices known as "torpedoes". In the time before spaceflight, control of the sea was vitally important, and so were ships. They were not women who walked and talked and wore cannons on their back. Not where Lyra came from. However, responding with incredulity probably wouldn't end well either - and, as with before, there were perhaps more relevant subjects to ask about. "Decommissioned? For what, exactly? I understand that you seem to be... troubled by that, but if we're going to work together, we need to know each other's strengths... and weaknesses." If Lyra remembered correctly, a decommissioning was when a model of equipment or vehicle was put out of use - and, presumably, discarded or destroyed. Perhaps in the world where Iowa lived in, where naval vessels were capable of speech and independent movement, decommissioning was instead more innocent - similar to retirement - or more sinister - a form of punishment or execution. Whatever the case, Lyra needed to know. Perhaps the response Iowa gave would help determine whether or not she was even telling the truth.

Lyra waved away Atton's concerns. "I don't seem to have broken or twisted anything - though some of my gear doesn't seem to be in very good shape..." At this, she pulled out some of her equipment and looked it over, making sure to do so slowly. Wouldn't do to make the group - her colleagues, she supposed - think she was going to suddenly attack them. Her gun and wrench didn't seem to have sustained any obvious damage - which was, even after a great fall, something to be expected. They were built to last, and there wasn't very much in either tool that could break - though there was no indication if part of the firing mechanism in the gun had been damaged, which was no news and not good news. If Lyra's gun suddenly failed to fire during a fight, she'd be in trouble. The Sidewinder Lyra had used to reach... wherever this was had gone missing - whether it was lost during the glitch itself or the fall that had followed it wasn't something she was sure of. The same went for the Glitch Trap and backup Swapper that she'd been carrying - and the Swapper she'd retained looked like it'd been cracked in a few places. Whether it'd even function at all wasn't something Lyra was the most eager to test. Last of all, the Emergency Shield. These things would normally cause shots to bounce right off, but the obvious cracks and smoke suggested it'd probably crumple under the first few shots that even implied they were flying its way. And, most noticeably, her helmet. No cracks or scratches as far as she could see. No heads-up-display either. That meant no radar, no maps or markers, and no heat signature tracking. Lyra would have to rely on her own two eyes to spot dangers. In other words, she was, for the most part, back to what she'd started her career with. A wrench and a gun. Wonderful. The state of her weapons and tools wasn't the only concern she was holding, however - the cannon-carrying lady, "USS Iowa", had mentioned that other people were being transported here and that she herself had arrived here recently - which meant that, from what little she could gather, the 11 (or perhaps nine, seeing as how "Miss Neptune" and "Uni" were being spoken to as though they were about to separate from the others) people - at least three of whom had never been on a contract with the group before - were, judging by the statements Atton was saying, supposed to work together to take down a criminal trio that may or may not have special capabilities. Lyra herself was unaccustomed to fighting among teammates - while several of them already looked like they could be useful, she was... more than a little unsettled by the fact there were youths among the team. At least "USS Iowa" seemed to share her concerns about the "woman... fox... punching... thing". USS Iowa... USS... Lyra thought that sounded familiar somehow. She was more one for breaching and clearing than piloting, but she did recall that most corporate ships would have some kind of prefix to identify its allegiance or other association - a prefix of three letters abbreviating the ship's allegiance or role. It couldn't be... Well, the only way to know for sure was to ask. "Iowa, what does the 'USS' in your name stand for?"

The white-dressed girl's stumbling, vague explanation only further confirmed Lyra's suspicions - this was not a team of professionals. But, again, it was at least a team of non-professionals who weren't shooting at her. "I'd already been told some of that before from... someone. I'm not sure who it was. And can you please tell me more about these criminals? I seem to have missed the fight with the 'giant guy with the big hammer'..." The lack of a corpse or tied up individual made Lyra somewhat doubtful of the girl's claim... Though, truthful or not, Lyra supposed she was forgetting one thing... "I... suppose immediately asking you questions like that isn't the best way to get acquainted with you. What's your name?"

Well, she'd said her line and no-one had drawn their weapon yet. That was a good enough start. "I'm sorry for landing on you. When I discovered I was falling from the sky, I panicked..." It wasn't the best way to introduce herself, that was certain, but it was better than faking confidence or attempting to shift blame. Again, Lyra hoped to hell that the woman she'd fallen on believed her, or things could get unpleasant fast. As she nervously waited for a reply from the rest of the group, she gave them a quick once-over. This time she was thankful for her skull-mask helmet - while its appearance likely wouldn't do much to convince the people present that she wasn't her enemy, it at least allowed her to examine the people without making her observations too obvious. Lyra had been entertaining the notion that the group was intentionally trying to look harmless, but that idea was already under question courtesy of the dark lord, and it collapsed beneath the presence of the... fox woman and lady who had guns mounted to her. Again, Lyra was thankful for her helmet for concealing her face. She could not, however, conceal her curiosity. "Who... are you?"

Her objective had been Anthony Sanchez. She'd been trying to glitch into a pair of guards so she could knock them out. The procedure would've been simple. Sidewinder, swing wrench, throw wrench, loot key, done. Rinse and repeat until the ship was clear and she could bring in the prisoner. That was the plan. Until... this happened. As she found herself in the blank room, she briefly wondered if her device had simply failed to reproduce her body and that she was now dead. At least she didn't feel a thing. But as the presentation started, it seemed less like an outright failure of the glitcher so much as... interference. The kind that happens when one tries to glitch into a Jammer field - the destination disrupted, and the person attempting to glitch usually finding themselves outside of the ship. And someone had interfered so that someone could send her here. Into a room with a screen and a chair and a presentation about... "Trespassers". The mention of world-eating monsters made Lyra freeze. Capturing, devouring, destroying all the worlds that they could reach... She'd been victim to something not so different. Had been trying to forget about it. Just her luck that she had to be given a reminder. And, as if knowing what she wanted most of all, she was told she'd have a chance to fight them. If not to avenge her own family... maybe to save someone else's. A chance for a loose end, drifting through space, to do some good before the end came. Lyra briefly considered the possibility that this was all a trap. That this was, perhaps, some machination of the Voidmother, intent on claiming the final Concept that had slipped her grasp barely five years ago. But before she could make any kind of decision... she found herself falling from the sky. Lyra wasn't much for planetside work. While her suit could protect her from the harsh vacuum of space, the meager oxygen supply meant she could either weigh herself down with O2 tanks (too large to fit into any of her pouches) or leave herself gasping for breath as guards took the opportunity to charge her position. The fact that she could freely breathe in this new environment was... strange. The sensation of falling in a world with an atmosphere was even more alien a feeling. When guards tossed her out airlocks or she leaped through a hole in a window, there was only silence. Here, there was the wind rushing past, the sight of clouds, and... The ground rapidly rushing up to meet her. This was... bad. It was very bad. Lyra tried to think about how she could escape this situation, but a brief check of her pockets revealed many of her tools were missing. Even if the Emergency Shield she carried could stop an impact as hard as the one she was going to make, her device was smoking and visibly cracked in multiple places. Lyra briefly wondered if this was punishment, somehow, for doubting the offer that she'd received. If this was the final part of the Voidmother's trick, dangling an opportunity she'd never had before snatching it away and killing her. Just before she squeezed her eyes shut, Lyra noticed that she was going to hit one of the many people who were on the ground... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lyra climbed off of the body of the woman she'd landed on, glancing around at the other members of the group uneasily. Somehow she doubted they'd appreciate her landing on their colleague. Well, if nothing else, her Swapper, buggy from the interference as it was, meant she could at least make one of their number regret any attempts to attack her. Assuming it didn't fail in some fashion that meant zero, or half or two Lyras. It looked like none of them were prepared to attack her, so at least that was a good sign. So. An uneasy situation created by being unexpectedly thrust into a world with gravity, an atmosphere... and some extremely impractical-looking outfits. Strange dress or not, Lyra knew fighting them was not an option. With this in mind, Lyra did her best to come up with a proper apology and introduction, given the circumstances. At least none of them could see her face to know that she was trying to make something up on the fly - though the skull she'd painted on the front of her helmet probably wasn't doing her any favors. "Sorry for landing on your friend there. I'm Lyra Concept, and I'm not going to harm you." She just hoped they believed her, or this could be a very short conversation. Lyra Concept has arrived.