THE NEW VANGUARD! STEEPLEJACK Issue #1

Scafell Pike was always enjoyable.

A twist, whilst still dangling from two fingers and fumbling about with the phone... A grin for the camera... and John Gibbs, property magnate, charitable fund raiser, adventurer, minor youtube star, urges people to contribute to the Homeless Child foundation. He slipped the phone back in his pocket and climbed further.

He wasn't breathing hard and there were other climbers here, so he couldn't outpace them. If he wanted he could more or less run vertically up the Pike but where was the fun in that?

Hmmm. Still, maybe he should use ropes and pitons like the other climbers. He feigned injury when asked to compete at climbing events, claiming age and previous injuries had taken their toll. Truth was he didn't really feel any effect of age. Injuries healed up almost as fast as they happened. He looked about. Popping the line swinger from his belt, a gun without a handle basically, he fired it with a PFFFT!

A silenced shot of air punched the hardened tip through the air to where Gibbs fired it. Another look about. No feeling of danger that someone should see him... Then... swing!!!

He stifled a laugh, swinging in silence and pulled hard, stretching the line taut... It looped upwards and he pressed retract... the line sent a charge down to pop free of the metal tip buried inside the rock and retracted, whipping through the air. Gibbs somersaulted half a dozen times and landed in a crouch on the flat of the peak.

He breathed in, taking in the view. It never got old.

Just then his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He glanced at the message and frowned. Someone had been snooping about on the internet and triggered a number of certain key words that Gibbs had alerted against in the same search. There were others, but his name, D'Vere, the Executive and Steeplejack shouldn't be an issue these days. Someone was digging.

There was a reason for that, and it was usually trouble. Enemies looking for revenge, blackmail, leverage...? Not knowing was the problem. He ran a tracer program. Wandafar, wherever he was, had knocked it up in his lunch hour whilst catching up on Coronation Street. Though it was old, it used methods not known even in this modern day and age. Russian hackers would be in awe! That was alien tech for you. Wherever he was, and the rest of the Exec, Gibbs wished him well. With a sigh he looked about and dropped several hundred feet to the floor then broke out into a jog towards the hybrid four by four several miles away that was his transport for the day. He normally grinned when able to stretch his legs by fell running but today a frown was etched on his face.

=========

"Jack? I need a favour. Release funds to the tune of a million. Cash. yes. Ready to pick up in the morning from the offices. Make sure its secured. yeah. Ok. See you next week. We still on? Good." said Gibbs as he sat in traffic on the M25.

He wasn't too far away now from one of his London homes. Unoccupied and kept that way for personal use, it hid a number of secrets Gibbs wouldn't want unearthed. Namely one of his stash of costumes. The gas canisters of his own design expanded to form a leather like matt coloured material that 'self healed' to a certain degree and dirt just slid off it. He could make millions from patents but knew someone would adapt it to weaponize it somehow. Not on his watch.

He'd hammered it hard from the lakes and changed to a Tesla. En route he'd stopped off to swap cars, twice, at prearranged points. A well practised set up and it got round the current lack of range on Electric Vehicles. His danger sense told him where he could put his foot down. Some of the speeds were silly, but he made sure no one else was in danger, and somehow always managed to slow down before any danger was posed to his license!

The range was down on this car, as the others, but there was no fast way across London except by motorbike... Hmmmm.

Several phone calls later and a change of vehicle he got off the bike in the underground garage and made his way to the lift...

OOC That's the intro out of the way. Haunt and Steeplejack are on a collision course. Can you skim through his Issue #8 and keep updated with the info in there and I'll try to merge the two paths at some point...

Admin wrote:


Scafell Pike was always enjoyable.

OOC That's the intro out of the way. Haunt and Steeplejack are on a collision course. Can you skim through his Issue #8 and keep updated with the info in there and I'll try to merge the two paths at some point...

OOC: Love the Lakes - great start point and have read quite a bit of issue 7 and all of 8 so I know what I know... out of interest how much about Haunt would be public knowledge and how much more would Sjack" know?

Throwing his helmet off to one side, he immediately set to work. Grabbing a cold beer from the fridge and setting up the coffee machine, he took a few moments to orientate himself in this property. Although it had been a while since having to crash here, maybe a year or so, nonetheless it felt as familiar as did all the places he used. Sadly conveniences, utilitarian and furnished to correspond with the outward mask he showed the world.

So did he chance to contact D'Vere, back channels and all he hated to bother the old man. Especially if this all turned out to be someone's idea of a joke, or a PhD student trying to make a name for himself in some field of contemporary history. Besides which, he couldn't stay in London too long without someone noticing, his reputation preceded him. He'd probably have to play the part of the playboy. A long sigh left his lips, it was a necessary part of his identity, but one he hated. Already a weariness came over him, that the 'Pike' had marvellously cured him of, but that now seemed an age away already.

OOC: Righto, where to go from here, since I am still new to what is going on with current events, and this part of the timeline and all, is London still being rebuilt from the massive monster attacks in Issue 7? If it's advisable to get ahold of D'Vere, Sjack will do so, otherwise, its a question of seeking out some old contacts, possible tracing the search back to an IP address and seeing if I can ping a location maybe.

Sj

OOC currently sat on a train (someone else has kindly taken it off me from Manchester to Leeds so I can relax a bit! Unfortunately without a laptop my posting is limited but I can give you info...

London is still recovering from the giant monster attack. A year has passed (Haunt was out of it) and there is a news blackout of events on the continent in an effort to appease the Alien Advent Government. Public memory is short and Haunt kept a low profile.

D'Vere on the other hand despite being retired is still sharp and abreast of events. Steeplejack didn't know him well but enough to respect the mans intellect and influence. If anyone is active as a superhuman in Britain D'Vere will either know about it or know someone who will. Steeplejack has an emergency two way pager from back in the day. Pop in fresh batteries and it might still work - Wandafar designed it.

Steeplejack doesn't know Haunt but kept an interest in the press about new supers. Some come and go and Haunt may have been one of them.

Steeplejack is a smart cookie but he has contacts who are smarter still, including one or two shady types who are only out of prison thanks to SJs input. They are ethical hackers now but there's few in the game better than them. Feel free to throw out some names as we build up SJs history...

Admin wrote:D'Vere on the other hand despite being retired is still sharp and abreast of events.

Steeplejack is a smart cookie but he has contacts who are smarter still, including one or two shady types who are only out of prison thanks to SJs input. They are ethical hackers now but there's few in the game better than them. Feel free to throw out some names as we build up SJs history...

John thought over the possibilities when a name popped into his head, "Bage" well that is what he went by because Badgedarious Byangulio was just too much of a mouthful for most people in his second home. A lucrative job in banking gave him access to some shady side deals. "The money was always just a way to keep score" he used to say. But then when you start shifting money around unknowingly belonging to several offshore interests that suddenly get too interested then its time to move. Bage would have been in a sticky place, were it not for one intervention that insured not only did the men in question get banged away, but the whole deal meant several very good charities got an unexpected windfall that year.

Bage worked freelance, off the grid, so that he didn't get too much heat and kept himself low to the ground. His goals were more modest, nearly losing your life brings a certain amount of sobriety to ones thinking, John mused. He still liked to watch a game, and his local was where he'd hang out to put a modest punt on a winner. John knew it would be a while before the game would start, but Bage might get their early to warm a good seat up in anticipation, so no harm in going to find out more.

OOC: Ok so Sj will head over to this local pub and dress down for the part. Costume to hand, but otherwise working mans no descript clothing. He'll pass Bage a pre-arranged note and then meet him outside in his 'work clothes' assume the meet and greet all goes as planned...however you might have other ideas ;-)

Sj

True to form 'Bage' was scouring the papers for the horses and half watching the game which was almost over thanks to the home side winning 4-1 at a canter.

The pub was old school and various signs suggested 'no phones, no knives, no guns'. Quaint.

In worn jeans, ratty jumper and well worn jacket with a woollen hat put down around his ears John had also dropped on a pair of reading glasses at zero strength and for a laugh, a false moustache that was actually quite convincing.

He nursed a pint for a while, looking about. Not many in, Bage was engrossed in his paper. A hastily scribbled note and waiting till someone walked the other way...

The note dropped and slid down the crease of the newspaper Bage was reading. By the time he'd looked up - a heartbeat later - there was no one near.

=========

The costume was a marvel. Keyed to his DNA it released a gas that formed up into a polymer and clung to Steeplejack like a gimp suit.

Reference to sex clothing aside (why did heroes go for skin tight?) he mused and he pulled the mask section onto his head. Some of the costume was padded with air bubbles to pad it out where required. He'd stumbled across the invention after seeing an idea for something else on the shopping channel. After weeks of fruitless experiments he'd woken one morning to find himself gloved. Further experiments showed it could be keyed specifically to his dna, was harmless to others and could be programmed to colour specifically, though that took time. Once done, adjusted a thousand times, tweaked, scrapped and restarted eight times, he had a costume.

Then he'd retired.

And now it was back on.

He watched the back door open form his vantage point on the side of a wall fifteen feet up.

"Alright then, who's takin' th' piiiiii.... wha?" said Bage, looking up. "It IS you! I thought you were gone! Dead, retired , whatever super guys do when they get fed up of punchin' people in th' head. It's been a while..." he added, popping out a cigarette and turning as someone came outside. "Get yourself a drink inside I need 10 minutes" he said to the random punter with a ten pound note.

"Thought you'd forgotten about me. Obviously not. I owe ya, I get it. So who's the mark?" asked Bage. Clearly his humdrum life had been lacking excitement recently that he thought Steeplejack might provide!

sex clothing aside (why did heroes go for skin tight?) h

ooc: Because in the old days and still somewhat today, you wore your costume under your street clothes most of the time. And artists had a hard time drawing baggy clothes consistently .

Admin wrote:"Thought you'd forgotten about me. Obviously not. I owe ya, I get it. So who's the mark?" asked Bage. Clearly his humdrum life had been lacking excitement recently that he thought Steeplejack might provide!

"I thought you'd had enough excitement for one career. Clearly I can see from the drinks your drinking and the teams your picking excitement is what you need before you slip into early senility." Steeplejack said in a good-humoured way. He knew Bage, was all talk, the truth was he probably needed to get out from behind his PC set up and get some real life.

"Someone's been doing a search, suddenly I've become popular on Google or something. I'll give you what I've got and I want you to find out what you can. But I'm going to be running some errands so don't go getting yourself in anyone's sites, I don't need to draw any more attention to myself than is necessary."

Steeplejack gave him the details of where to contact him with anything he gained and with a wave, he shot up the wall onto the rooftops and away, circling back to where he'd left his bike.

"Now to give D'Vere a call!" Steeplejack said as he changed back into his street persona and John Gibb was off into London traffic and a more refined part of town.

Sj

"Hey no worries man! Ha, y'know I could trace this burner number you gave me, find out where..." Bage started...

"Joking! JOKING!" he said seeing the look on Steeplejacks lower face. "Relax man. I'm your bro, I got this. I owe ya, for this an' more. If not for you..." he trailed off. "The digital trail may go cold if the searcher knows what they are doing. I'll get right on it. Be in touch soon."

Steeplejack made his exit. He could trust Bage, but he could also trust him to get into trouble!

=========

Scrolling through his phone he found several numbers for D'Vere.

The first three were dead. The fourth got through to ... 'The Excalibur Club'?

"Good morning, you've reached the Excalibur club." said a female voice. "How can I be of assistance?"

"Edward D'Vere please. This is John Gibbs." replied Gibbs, now in his civilian guise and parked up in a space overlooking the Thames.

There was a pause. Then the woman added "Your voice has been authenticated. Please state your authorisation code and the access code."

John blinked. He'd memorised the codes years ago when he was in the Exec, but that was then! Now... Ah heck.

"Please state your authorisation code and the access code." repeated the female voice on the phone.

John couldn't remember them, try as he might. Too many years had passed and too many things occupied his thoughts these days... He was about to speak after a long pause, then the voice chimed "... Time out. Goodbye." and the line went dead!

He scowled, rang the number again and found he'd been blocked! It seemed D'Vere still felt security was of the highest importance!

Then his 'burner phone' rang.

"It's me, SJ. B. I've done a search. Got an address. Tricky SOB tried to route through a VPN and I had to make a call to a friend. Heh, threatened to hack his servers unless he coughed up what I needed to know. Got you an IP address. Sending a text. Burn the phone man, watch your back!" he said, then the line went dead.

Gibbs saw the address, memorised it and popped the phone open, crumpling the sim card and crunching the phone itself up in his fist.

He now had two choices. Go to the Excalibur Club or the address of whoever this was that had been snooping about him, the Executive and D'vere, three subjects that should not normally be grouped unless someone knew more than they should...

Admin wrote:He now had two choices. Go to the Excalibur Club or the address of whoever this was that had been snooping about him, the Executive and D'vere, three subjects that should not normally be grouped unless someone knew more than they should...

Gibbs thought about it, the address was important but so was D'vere, if there was someone after them both then D'Vere potentially was the bigger fish with all he knew. Gibbs hated being thrown in two directions but having made his choice, the engine fired and off he rode through the London streets to the Excalibur Club.

He wondered if joining such an organisation was something one did or was born into? Was it full of Eaton toffs, and landed gentry or could a working stiff made good like himself land such a place? Time would tell, as a backup option he wasn't above breaking and entering but hoped he could avoid it.

Sj

Night across London meant street lights and slowed traffic, so motorcycle was still the fastest option, unless one counted line swinging!

As he approached the address on his GPS suddenly his phone squawked and went silent in his ear... What?

GPS jammer? Phone jammer?

He parked up at the end of a long street and saw a number of parked cars. No problem there. A plain white van across the street. Only half a dozen houses on each side of the street, despite its length, stank of money even Steeplejack didn't have, and he was a millionaire.

Something...

He walked down the street. Fourth house down on the other side he was looking for. Without the benefit of night sight it was difficult to make out details from the shadows. One... no two of the cars had a driver in them.

Then the lights along the street winked out!

Before they did he saw a glimpse of a man stood outside a gated wall/house and dark figures moving up from the shadows around. A glint of something... darkened metal.

GUN!

When it went dark John heard doors pop and one of the drivers started to walk across the street to him...

Admin wrote:GUN!

When it went dark John heard doors pop and one of the drivers started to walk across the street to him...

It seemed that clearly there were darker forces at work here, and D'Vere and his people were more under threat than Gibbs had realised. No time for messing about, he didn't slow down but carried on walking, taking in the scene before assessing his best next moves.

OOC: Ok I want to let the other guy catch me up and then pop him one, see if he's got com's that isn't be jammed and listen in. I'll wait till there is a blind spot, convenient point to duck in or something other. I'm also reliant on the darkness to cover my lack of costume at this point. Assuming I can take this guy without a problem I'll get changed and go high to survey what's happening below and get a better idea of who's doing what to whom.

Sj

The guy is trained, and he's good.

He's not surprised when John goes for him and adopts a martial arts stance.

OOC Steeplejack Dex 11 + Martial Arts Skill (+3 dice) Roll(5d10)+0: 6,7,7,4,6,+0 Total: 14 rolled DOUBLE plus Roll(2d10)+0: 7,1,+0 Total:22 rolled + 11 Dex (33) vs
Dex 7 + Roll(2d10)+0: 2,4,+0 Total: 13

20 difference is +6 EV (Str 9+6=15) - RV 8 = 7 damage. Special Ops guy Unit 7 GOES DOWN.

The man is good. He's no pushover, but superhuman strength and dexterity vs superbly trained peak human wins out every time.  He feinted, slapped the man across the face, drove a knee into his gut and an uppercut smashed him down with Johns hand grabbing the front of the flak vest he wore to stop him flying through the air.

Frisking him he found several weapons and what he was looking for - walkie talkie and earpiece.

John checked it. Hmmm. Coded. A simple 3 digit code taking a fraction of a second and required every 30 seconds. These guys were ultra, ultra professional. He placed the earpiece to his ear...

"...secure area."

"Checking out pedestrian on other side of street. Hold. Unit 7 respond. Threat?"

"Unit 7?"

Then silence, the walkie talkie was self coded and would require unlocking with a 0-9 three digit code. Chances were these guys expected reports instantly and would be sending someone over to check out Unit 7 right now!

Admin wrote:"Unit 7?"

Then silence, the walkie talkie was self-coded and would require unlocking with a 0-9 three-digit code. Chances were these guys expected reports instantly and would be sending someone over to check out Unit 7 right now!

The time for stealth was almost at an end, but he still had an upper hand, after all, they didn't know his exact location and he could use that to his advantage. With lights out and the possibility of using some sort of night vision, their sight would be limited to where they looked. Moving quickly, Gibbs, grabbed the man's flak jacket and helmet, took off his gun and dragged the man toward his partners. Hoping that they'd not twig it was the bystander until he was close enough to pounce and then get some game on.

OOC: Ok so going for a quick and dirty attempt to not be noticed as Gibbs draws near and get the final jump on these guys. If they ask why no com's I'll show them a damaged com unit (conveniently done as I hoised Unit 7 on my shoulder) which I will use as a weapon when I get close to them or if they rumble Gibbs.

No worries about d12 for skill checks, all good with me.

Sj

Dressed much as the armed man had been, and helped by his black leather motorcycle jacket, John Gibbs moved in

Just as he was about to launch an attack against the others gathered near the gates of the mansion on this side of the road Gibbs saw a man being attacked by the group! Then a shot fired into the fellow who hopped about in pain but didn't fall! What the ...?

Unnoticed by the group as he closed in but aware there was another fellow in the darkness behind (from the other car) Gibbs saw that the victim of this attack was a man just over six foot tall, dressed casually in jeans, t shirt, shirt and jacket and seemingly unarmed... Yet one of the armed men in black has gone down and lies prone!

More to this than met the eye? Still, he was outnumbered and about to get a kicking...

OOC Danger Sense 9 + Roll(2d12)+0: 10,1,+0 Total: 20 vs
Minor Threat 8 + Roll(2d12)+0: 7,6,+0 Total: 21 FAILED
Steeplejack doesn't sense any threat from these people. Perhaps they are too weak.

OOC Wanting to get stuck in or watch to see what happens with the guy who's getting a kicking... but dealing out one of his own...?

The group attack the lone figure and land a number of blows

He's quick and surprisingly able to hold his own against skilled Martial Artists - each would be considered a black belt - but fails to land his own blow, again. How long could he take a beating like this?

OOC Feel free to read Haunts thread and interject when you feel the time is right. I'll resolve the attack in here rather than merge the heroes into one issue - your stories haven't quite intertwined at this point.

Admin wrote:The group attack the lone figure and land a number of blows

He's quick and surprisingly able to hold his own against skilled Martial Artists - each would be considered a black belt - but fails to land his own blow, again. How long could he take a beating like this?

OOC Feel free to read Haunts thread and interject when you feel the time is right. I'll resolve the attack in here rather than merge the heroes into one issue - your stories haven't quite intertwined at this point.

Although Steeplejack was content to watch as the man, clearly could hold his own. A point to note, whoever he was. But it rankled him rotten to see a lone guy being taken on by not only a greater number of men but well-trained men. Moreover his being here, when D'Vere was here? Too much coincidence to simply be a coincidence. As the guys piled it on, a gas canister was suddenly deployed and the leader appeared to be being dragged out of the fight.

"Hmmm not on my watch" Steeplejack mumbled to himself. Leaving the body, he rushed around to where the soldier was dragging his unconscious leader. Hoping to take him down swiftly to then offer a hand with the remaining thugs.

OOC: Ok going for the guy at the back, then heading into the mist, danger sense alert to try and assist with the remaining two.

Sj

Popping his own gas canister and stepping through the mist Steeplejack gave his costume a quick check over and made sure his mask was in place.

His danger sense would have warned him of anyone seeing him switch clothes, so no problem there.

He leapt up to the other guy who'd been in the car and about to join the fight. The man narrowed his eyes and raised a hand to make a call on the radio. Steeplejack wanted to make sure he didn't do that!

OOC No need for Initiative. Steeplejack goes first. Going for Critical Blow - these guys have body armour and aren't amateurs.

Steeplejack Dex 11 + Roll(5d12)+0: 11,10,10,5,6,+0 Total:20 rolled DOUBLE plus Roll(2d12)+0: 5,12,+0 Total:37 rolled + Dex 11 (48) vs
Trooper Dex 7 + Crit Blow 4 (11) + Roll(2d12)+0: 11,6,+0 Total: 28

SUCCESS +6 EV (to 15) vs RV 7 = 8 Damage. TROOPER is DOWN

Steeplejack doesn't mess about and kicks the trooper hard to fly through the air and slam into the side of his own car, doubled over and clutching broken ribs. He wasn't getting up any time without help.

OOC JOIN HAUNTS ISSUE for the next part please...