[center]Collab between [color=6ecff6]datadogie's Sif/Mack[/color] and [color=fff200]CLIW's Kat[/color] [/center]


In all of the chaos (bullets had passed through Katrina’s consciousness at least twice now), the woman noticed that one of the cars parked to hole everyone up in the carnival was unguarded. She had a quick peek inside and felt a small spark of surprise: the key was in the ignition. She glanced outside. A group of Raiders were moving toward the stage, where people were working to disarm the gas canister and get answers out of the Raiders’ leader. They’d be outnumbered if no one did anything about them. 
Her physical body opened its eyes as her consciousness reunited with it. She strained to look outside the tent and make sure the way was clear as it more or less had been during the projection, took a deep breath and started to move toward the empty car.

Jennifer bit her lip as she got onto the stage. The area was chaos, and she had to focus to not panic at all of the gunfire. Swerving through the crowds had spent a bit of time, and by the time she was approaching the tank there were others already on the stage. Captain and someone else were interrogating the man, and a woman with a gas mask was attempting to get a fingerprint of a Raider onto the terminal of the tank.
“That’s not going to work,” Mack says into Jennifer’s ears, as the latter jogs quickly to the tank. Jennifer repeats what Mack says. “That’s not going to work,” Jennifer pants, sliding onto her knees, her tablet sliding out of her pocket. Her eyes widen, and she quickly turns around, grabbing her tablet off the ground, cradling it in her hands. “You’ve got to get a harness for that thing,” Mack says, as Jennifer lets out a breath. Not taking a glance at the gas-mask woman, Jennifer speaks to her. “It’s a regular Raider. He won’t have sufficient permissions to edit the parameters of a device that is programmed to respond to a higher official.” She taps one of the top corners of the tablet against the terminal, which connects the two wirelessly and electronically. “I’m not sure I could turn it off, there are too many options, but I may be able to change the parameters to allow those of a lower ranking standard to change the options of the device.” Jennifer taps on her tablet, and then a few times on the terminal, and then she continues to fiddle with her tablet, Mack helping her along the way.

The door was unlocked, which was a huge relief. Ducking below a spray of hot lead, Katrina climbed into the driver’s seat. “I’m going to lose my license,” she whispered to herself, and turned the key. Someone shouted at her to stop, but of course she ignored it. She started to drive, got the car pointed toward the group of Raiders running toward and shooting at the stage, who apparently hadn’t noticed Katrina. It was time to take care of business. She stepped on the gas. 
Her aim had been true. The sound of bones shattering and crunching under tires made her nauseous, and before she could do anything--it was all so fast--she had driven straight into the stage. She rocked with the impact and undid her seatbelt, panting. Shakily, she opened the car door; this took a bit of elbow grease because of the damage done to the front of the car. She stepped out of the vehicle and put her hand on the handle of her knife, which she planned to use in case any of the bastards had survived the impact.

The sound of a crash made Jennifer jump just as she was going to finish. She looks around, and sees that a car had driven straight through a crowd of Raiders, a stray few remaining from where the car had assaulted them. Jennifer blinks as the driver exits the car, and exhales as the person looks - from her angle - unharmed. Though, it takes Mack saying, “Hurry up, that thing is still timed!” for her to turn and press the last few buttons on her tablet. “There. It’s set to change the settings at his fingerprint,” Jennifer says, beckoning to the man’s finger.