The others started talking and getting themselves in order, so Kyuzo decided he could step away and get his gear ready.  He casually said over his shoulder , “[color=0072bc][b]Yegor listening, skinnies keep planning,[/b][/color]” while making his way to his room which was close enough to the common area to be able to hear, probably even without turning up the input level, which he did anyway.  He listened in intently and looked around the room.

His small living space was desolate by any standards.  There was a bed and a dresser in the room that were there prior, and that was still the only furniture, and that wouldn’t change any time soon.  There was an empty, oldschool military sea bag which had been all he’d traveled with aside from the formerly magical duffel bag.  The sea bag held his clothing which, aside from his weapons, were his only real possessions.  Next to the sea bag was the afore mentioned duffel bag and then at various places around the room were his weapons, most on a small case of some sort, or at least on a cloth with magazines, rounds, and random accessories placed around them.  

The planning to him was not that important.  In his experience, the plan was only worth sticking to until the first or second step, which was usually entering whatever the target area was.  After that, plans usually were drek canned because of one thing or another.  Sure, a plan was helpful, especially when going over the method and location by which they’d egress also.  However, the team’s ability to adapt and improvise were usually what led to a run being successful or a frag fest.  That, and a bit of luck here and there.

As he continued listening, he picked up his Ares Predator and holstered it, along with 2 magazines.  This gun was always comforting.  It was heavy, a lot of steel and old tech, and it was not prone to misfire and was still 100% operable even if the smart system was compromised, which saved him more than once.  All of that and the fact that it could penetrate most armors worn by anything but premier hit squads made it his go to firearm.  He then grabbed his Knight Errand SFAR and slung it across his back.  Instead of the large and bulky drum magazines, he opted to load a smaller magazine and carry another two larger “banana” magazines as well.  This shouldn’t be a spray and pray type scenario so he opted for a bit more concealability over bullet count.  He then slid his kukri behind his back and up into its sheath and tossed a light leather jacket on over it.  Again, he opted out of wearing any real armor, although he was wearing an UnderArmor Pro shirt, which was extremely expensive but not something that stood out.  This armor would stop a great deal of rounds from piercing it, but wore quickly.  The other downside is that it did literally nothing to lessen impact, so getting hit with a round wouldn’t likely pierce the body, but it would leave one hell of a mark, to say the least.  

He then knelt beside each weapon and put a trigger locking mechanism on each one, and these were extremely cunning devices.  On each lock, there was what appeared to be a simple key that would unlock it.  However, any physical intrusion into the lock, even by an replicated key of the exact pattern that would unlock it would trigger a concentrated electric shock with enough power to render most people unconscious.  Removing the lock all together, if one avoided the lock, would trigger a small explosion of thermite which would ruin the weapon and if it didn’t kill the target, would at least remove the majority of whatever limb(s) were close enough.  The trick to actually opening them was simple and low tech:  on one side, there was a small hole about the size of a paperclip.  Inside of that was a small switch that would have to be pressed twice in succession to open.  Simple, easy, and uncommon.   Because of these security measures, he made sure to walk out of the room and when the conversation broke, he interjected and said firmly, “[b][b][color=0072bc]no one touch Yegor’s weapons[/color][/b][/b].”   It was an awkward thing to say and a weird time to throw it into the middle of planning, but he threw it in none the less.  

This was one of those times where being stupid Yegor helped.  It wasn’t likely that anyone would try to steal his weapons, but if someone in the group DID decide to cut bait and leave, and wanted to either make some quick nuyen or make off with a weapon or two, they’d likely think him too stupid to operate any technologically sophisticated measures, and not trust or be able to afford biometrics.  

Part of him detested that the group had no real “leader” and the closest thing to one was Traction.  It wasn’t out of jealousy, because Kyuzo sure as drek had zero desire to lead this, or any group.  It was that part of him had the suspicion that any of her plans were highlighted by putting her in a position to be able to avoid danger and keep herself out of harm’s way immediately and leaving the others to fend for themselves if things went sideways.  

One last thing he wanted to make sure he either confirmed or put to rest was the feeling that the docks seemed to be worked by metas.  He wasn’t sure if it was some sort of union, and if it was, whether it was a legitimate one or one done on an informal level, but at the bar, the patrons seemed to be working class and all were obviously trolls or orks.  It wasn’t clear if this was simply a place for those orks and trolls who worked the docks to blow off steam and do some hydrating, or if this was THE place that ALL dock workers frequented.  It wouldn’t be wise to be caught walking with a combination of humans and elves if only other trogs were welcomed, not unless there was some sort of plan involved.