[color=gray]Before Anson’s eyes, his elaborate HUD blossomed with life as each of the 7-5 operators reported in. Wherever he faced, if one of his team members was in his field of vision, their location was pinpointed by an orange triangle. He felt like a proud, protective mother wolf, keeping tabs on his den of deadly pups. It was a feature uploaded to his processing unit that had proved invaluable when operational. Knowledge was power, and Anson always wanted to have more information about the disposition of his team. It was a tool he knew many of them hated, or at least found annoying. But, he was also sure they understood its necessity on missions. Anson respected their privacy when not deployed, and he had never once used his “big brother” system outside of a mission. Besides, Anson knew that Rose and P’siyah could jam his tech if they wanted to. [i]Hell, all of them probably know how to jam it,[/i] Anson thought to himself. It was a notion that actually pleased him. When the “roll call” had been completed, Anson hid a smirk at Vulma’s comment about the abundance of black hoodies with a slurp of noodles. [color=f7941d][i][/i][/color] He replied in jest. [color=f7941d][i][/i][/color] Finishing his noodles, Anson threw away the cup, and stood from where he had been leaning. Plunging his hands into the folds of his short robe, he merged into the stream of humanity. Off of his right shoulder, he knew that Bruce would see the move and keep station with him—albeit covertly. Anson had no particular destination as he began to meander through the bazaar. He could see that Rose was online, prepared to wield her formidable digital skills, and P’siyah was operating the OSS. Most likely from her Seraphim interface. He had the handful of operators on the ground, Router up in the sky, and the ladies-with-the-long-guns providing sniper overwatch. There was nothing much else to do except to keep vigilant, stay prepared, and let the OSS work its magic. Casting a glance up towards the sky, crisscrossed with ships and hovercraft, Anson wondered if the OSS was even now scanning his area. It was a needle-in-haystack search—it was just that both the needle and the searcher were advanced tech, and the haystack happened to be a throng of gang-riddled slummers. Switching over to the feed of the OSS, he glanced at the search-coverage percentage that was displayed in the upper-right of the satellite’s “gaze.” It currently read 17.8%. As he continued to watch the search progress, the display seemed to glitch ever so slightly. The flutter prompted a frown from Anson, but he quickly forced any concern from his mind. The bazaar was a large place, filled with a lot of possible interference. He should expect such things. With a silent sigh, Anson minimized the OSS display. Still walking at a leisurely pace amidst the shops, Anson’s gaze caught briefly on the figure of an attractive woman with bright green hair peering into a display of meeror pipes, regaled in a form-fitting plug suit. The woman stood at an angle to his right, and did not meet his eyes. For his part, Anson didn’t linger, and had moved onto scanning over the rest of the crowd in the span of a heartbeat. A short bleep sounded without warning within his mind, transmitting across the whole 7-5 channel. [center][color=ed1c24][b]<>[/b][/color][/center] [i]Holy shit,[/i] Anson thought. [i]The damn satellite found a security chip!?[/i] As promised, the OSS quickly spat out the grid coordinates of the ping location. It also marked the location with a digital flare that every member of the 7-5 would see. Focusing his attention on the satellite data, Anson immediately recognized that the flare was moving. [color=f7941d][i]<7-5, be advised the security chip is mobile; we have an actor in immediate play.>[/i][/color] Though excitement jolted through his bones like electricity, Anson willed his actions to remain calm and collected. Turning down an aisle that would take him in the direction of the marked location, he continued to speak to his team. [color=f7941d][i][/i][/color] Sliding his way past the libidinous living mannequins of a brother tent, Anson cursed under his breath. He was well out of position to make an immediate play on the new target. His team would have to step up. Anson had not a shred of doubt that they would. [color=f7941d][i][/i][/color] he called over the thought-comm to the two hackers. [color=f7941d][i][/i][/color] [color=f7941d][i][/i][/color] At that, Anson fell silent, and focused on making his way as quickly as possible towards the target. He didn’t need to add anything further, because he knew that the rest of the 7-5 would automatically jump into appropriate action. [color=black][b][i]The wolves had their first whiff of their quarry, and it was time for the fangs to show.[/i][/b][/color] [/color] [center][sup]GM'S NOTE: Please feel free to take the opportunity here to add your own elements to the RP. I purposefully didn't describe what our target looks like--I want that to come from you all. Add your own wrinkle to this story, and I will make it work. Just keep in mind what I have worked to set up, and just don't derail that part of it. As always, if you have questions, don't hesitate to ask.[/sup][/center]