There were 8 bombs spread around the ship. The teams were assigned. They had their orders, now they had to carry them out. And pray to whatever they held dear that they could disarm them in time.

Tick tock.

Some of the crew were getting firearms instruction from Kang, but Booth had agreed to do a class of his own as well. He was, at the moment, going over his initial pep talk with the assembled group.

"In a combat situation, your weapon my be your only friend. Make it a part of you,an extension of yourself. Give it the proper respect, though. Always treat it as if it's loaded, and always keep it clean and functioning properly.  No one *wants* to have to use it, especially to kill, and it's not always something you're proud of having to do. But, sometimes, if you have no other choice, doing what you have to can prevent an even bigger tragedy."

He started from the beginning, knowing he'd have to show everything step by step. He only hoped they understood well.

Nightmare becomes reality....

_{[roster: Leader - Iron Fist, Erwin, Goliath, Lash, Robert Donovan, Seeley Booth]}

As per the Chief's message, it was training time. Everyone who signed up for training (or was signed up by someone else) was ordered to an open square in the City.

Yes, the City, instead of the sensoriums. That meant that any weapons used would be real. And every bit of damage that they dealt would be real. As would the injuries. Though there didn't seem to be any weapons around, and there were no targets set up.

Interesting, that.

Anyway, in the square was the Chief of Security, who was busy marking off names of people who arrived early or on time. Anyone who figured that they could skip out, though, there is now an unhappy seven foot fully armed and armored Spartan hunting you down.

((ooc: READ THIS BEFORE TAGGING. EDIT: But the first subthread "Early/on time arrivals" is now open for tagging. Training has now begun!))

Booth readied his pistol and fired another round of shots at the target. He had the sensorium looking like the firing range back home for now. He'd been doing fairly well during the last two missions, there was no denying that. But he wasn't entirely happy with his records either. He could still hit the target, but not quite dead center the way he was used to doing it. It wasn' t an emormous difference, just a slight one, but enough to be notieceable. It had to be a result of the surgery he'd had just before coming up here, and he knew it. The thing was, he had no idea how to get, as it might be put, his mojo back. It ws his sniper's nature, for the most part. A normal guy could settle for being almost good enough, but he had found that he couldn't be really happy until he was back to his old standard again.

He looked at the target when he finished and sighed, noting the holes still just a little off center, yet again.

Of course, the task entrusted to our beloved heroes of the Meatcrew won't be easily accomplished. They're being watched. Small, robotic Arctic foxes, a product of Macrohard, studies the crew as they come through the portal. They watch the set up; they see them go into the realm of the Holiday Spirit, and leave in their flying cars to spread joy in the world. The portal is left open--this is their chance to strike.

This joy, this happiness, this plan? Unacceptable. These creatures are the surveillance for Macrohard. The crew's plan is out, and this corporation is not pleased. The crew's efforts are threatening Macrohard's dominance of the season, but the most effective tactic isn't fighting the crew--oh no. What they'll do instead is go after the Holiday Spirit itself. There is no other option: the threat must be eliminated, once and for all.

Luckily, Macrohard happens to have access to the most technologically advanced weaponry available. The most dangerous mercenaries are on their payroll. Troops of mecha nutcrackers, cybernetic polar bears, and candy cane-wielding arctic ninjas are on route to the North Pole to finish up the job.

[OOC: These are small teams, so try to keep Infiltration Team in one thread, and try to do a LOT of group threads in the others.]

Team GTFO gathers in the Living Area Level, near what appears to be a blank wall near the Sensoriums, and now it's time to distribute equipment, go over the specifics of the plan, and get ready to commence Operations. With a capital 'O'.

There's a multitude of robot drones and other equipment about.


[ooc: Read instructions for these threads here! Edit: Srsly. Read 'em. Try to keep all the subthreads as one consecutive thread. Please?]

Mia hummed to herself as she nocked up another arrow, sighting the target fifty yards away. Not a massive distance, but she wasn't shooting for that today. Right now she was more concerned with the three arrows stuck end to end, snaking out from the bullseye.  That was her record, before she ended up splitting one too far and they fell apart. Well, records were meant to be broken, weren't they?

She pulled back on the bow, letting everything around her disappear, including the extra sets of archery gear she'd had the sensorium whip up in case anyone wanted to join her.

Tempe frowns, her nose scrunching up a bit as she looks around at the different temples. Why the ship had put so many different ones all in one are was beyond her comprehension. She knew that there were those who deeply believed in God, but she herself would never be able to. To her it was illogical, and a waste of time. It was a historical fact that Religion was the cause of many of Earth's wars, and in her mind that was not likely to ever change.

Despite her thoughts on religion, she couldn't help but admire the architecture of each of the temples she passed. The simplicity of the doric columns of the Parthenon... The combined architecture of The Church of the Holy Sepulchre... The ornate Muslin craftsmanship of The Dome of the Rock. They were all truly beautiful and awe inspiring.

Shaking her head, she turns and walks toward the Vatican. Her gaze travels upward as she approaches it, and once again Temperance finds herself marveling in the beauty of the building.

She sinks down on a bench outside of the Vatican, content to sit, bask in the artificial sunlight and think. Think about why she could have been chosen, what she can actually offer as skills, and... She thinks about her friends she'd left behind.

Sparhawk has been spending a fair bit of time in the sensoriums, making sure that his shoulder is as fit for duty as any of his old body is. It's healed fully (which amazes him), but he's still wary. Being appointed the leader of Team India means that he wants to be in the best shape that he can be. Leadership is a job that he takes very seriously.

Which is why he is currently sitting in the Obs Deck, precariously balanced on one of the fleshy couches (he's fairly sure that he can feel it moving underneath him). He's looking intently at his Omnicom, and ever so slowly, making notes. He's starting to get the hang of this new technology.

Finally satisfied with whatever he's been working on, he stops, and looks up, pointedly avoiding looking in the direction of the statue. His left hand clenches, his thumb absently running itself over the ruby ring there. Here's it's nothing more than a reminder of his past, but it's comforting. His thumb moves to the new ring, just above it. The comns ring. He's rather unclear on how the things work, but, he'll use it.

Not sure of the best way to use it, he closes his eyes, and concentrates.

Members of Team India, please join me in the Obs Deck for a meeting. If you can't make it, I'll come to you later.

Now he waits to see if he actually managed to work the thing.

Tilting her head a bit to the side, Temperance leans a little closer to the skeleton that was on the examining table. Obviously she is in one of  the sensoriums which has kindly recreated her lab from the Jeffersonian. Sadly it hadn't bothered to give her a replica of Angela or Zack or Hodgins. Even though she likes to work alone, she has to admit she misses the constant barrage of chatter that seemed to follow where ever those three were.

Reaching out with a gloved hand, she runs her fingers gingerly over the skull before carefully picking it up and examining it closer. "Hmmm....." she mutters aloud. "The skeleton is in remarkably good shape.  Female, and based on the dentition and condition of the vertebrae, she was fairly young. Possibly in the mid to late twenties, though no older than mid thirties."

It's not even a real dead body, but it's enough to keep Temeperance from going stir crazy and it actually in a way relaxes her.

 Initially, when he absented himself from the group who had been left behind, Sparhawk intended to use the time to explore Stacey, and to perhaps add weight to certain suspicions that were in his head. But instead, he found himself in the City.

Many of the buildings down here were not familiar to him, their purpose unknown. But there was one that he was familiar with, that was the centre of his religion. Whether it was the actual Basillica, transported here for some purpose, or just a good copy, he didn't know, but it was something familiar.

Being a Knight of the Church, he had always had faith. Faith was comforting, something to lean on. And then he discovered that he was Anakha, his destiny unwritten, and that he made the Gods nervous. And with everything that happened to him, his faith was tested. But he always believed.

Kneeling in front of the altar, head bowed, lost in thought, Sparhawk considered.

Time passed. As he emerged from the Basillica, it was hard for him to know how long it had been.

It look him a moment to figure out how to work the device that had been given to him. Normally he wouldn't have used it, letter writing not being his strong point, but this would be the exception.

Hopefully, the Lady Temperance would get the message to meet him at the Sensoriums, with company if she could not trust him.

After being de-slimed--for the most part--and wrapped in discomforting, dark green, plant-like body-suits--that not only left little to the imagination, but also seemed to be breathing--the newly pod-popped crew all happen to congregate in the Weapons and Possessions Lockers at the same time. This cavernous warehouse of a chamber has shelves and shelves and racks of belongings and weapons that go off as far as the eye can see. Everything from massive sidearms to impossibly huge swords, to Hello Kitty lunchboxes.

Their own belongings are here near the front--they've been moved to make finding them more easy, but it will take a bit of hunting.

Either way, they won't be searching alone. Everyone's piling in at the same time.

||Pod Release Protocols Initating|| Stacy's familiar voice sounded out to all the podmates.

In the Pod Caverns, there were the sounds of: Pop. Pop pop pop. Poppuhpoppoppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiiiissssss.

There was condensation and mist spraying out from cracks in the pods, as the people inside slid out onto the floors, covered in slime.

Pop. Poppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiissss.