[Naked Crook]

Xyrho: Hersey? Perhaps. Perhaps it is. Xyrho paused. He began to pace back and forth in the Phantom. Xyrho: However...it is also the truth Vhat. Tell me Vhat...where is the honor in lying? Xyrho paused. He let that question sink in for a moment. Xyrho: Do not allow your honor and your superstition to blind you. The Prophets are flawed. They have been in error. They are subject to error. I will not allow superstitious reverence blind me to that fact. I will not insult my own honor by accepting the lie that they are above any degree of error. Xyrho paused. Xyrho: Much like I will not allow my honor to interfere with my ability to make the correct decisions when they need to be made. My honor does not dictate who my allies or enemies are. My sense of duty and loyalty is what determines that! Far too many of our brothers have fallen victim to the notion that our honor defines our lives. I reject that notion. Meanwhile: Before Tye could respond to Cameron's remarks, he heard Dark contact him over the comm. Tye turned his head, as he responded to Dark over the comm line. Tyber: Copy that Spartan. I am currently on the bridge at the moment, discussing our current status with The Captain. If you want to stay in the loop, you may wish to make your way here post-hoste. Meanwhile: Nighthawk had since returned to The Venture Capitalist. He had landed his Vulture in the hanger bay, and he had disconnected his Warthog from the aft of the Vulture. Nighthawk had left the hanger bay, and had proceeded straight to the armory to restock and resupply. Nighthawk: HAWK! HAWK appeared on a small holotable in the armory. He folded his arms as he looked at Nighthawk. HAWK: Yes? Nighthawk: I need a sitrep on The Risk Takers. I need you to compile everything we have on them, including an estimation of their current injuries, and I need you to speculate on their current operational status. Give me the worst case estimations. I don't want to under-prepare for my next engagement with them. HAWK: Understood. HAWK paused, as he compiled the information for Nighthawk. HAWK: It will take me several minutes to compile all current date. However...I don't need that data at hand to make an observation. Nighthawk: An observation on what? HAWK: You are incredibly distressed at the moment. Nighthawk nodded. Nighthawk: You have no idea. HAWK: Actually...I have a perfect idea. I can see your vitals. They are off the charts right now. Not to mention your physical state. At the moment...both physically and mentally...you are unfit for any sort of combat or engagement with The Risk Takers. Nighthawk kept silent. He simply turned back to the weapon's bench, as he reloaded and cleaned his weapons. HAWK: I know what you are planning to do. Nighthawk: Is that so? HAWK: You are going to go and find him. You know where he is and you know who has him. The thing is...you have to go into the Lions Den to get him. Nighthawk:What is your point HAWK? HAWK: The point is...if you go to The Ulterior Motive...the odds of you dying there are extreme. You are out-gunned, out-manned, out-numbered, and out-matched. Nighthawk: Sounds like a typical day to me. Nighthawk walked away from the table he was standing at, as he went over to a shelf, as he began to grabb shells and magazines for his Magnum. Nighthawk then returned to the table as he began to sort everything out. HAWK: This is not a joke Nighthawk! Nighthawk turned to HAWK. His tone of voice became one of annoyance. Nighthawk: What do you expect me to do...hmm? Let Anaconda rot in the hands of The Trust because the odds were stacked against me? Yes, I realize how dangerous this is. Yes, I am aware that I may get killed over there. However...I am not going to sit here and get scared off by a bunch of thugs in power armor. Nighthawk paused. Nighthawk: Let me tell you how this is going to go down HAWK. I am going to The King Raven...I am going to interrogate Hoffman...I am going to get every bit of information I can get out of him...then, I am going to find The Ulterior Motive...I am going to board that ship...I am going to gun down every miserable SOB that has the audacity to stand in my way...and I am going to bust Anaconda out of there. I either succeed in doing that...or I die trying. If I have to do this myself...I will. I don't need anyone's help to be able to stand up to The Trust. I don't need stats on my side, and I don't need to be told how dangerous it is. Nighthawk paused. Nighthawk: Now...if you want to be a part of that...that's great. If not, well, too bad for me. Nighthawk paused. He took a step towards HAWK. Nighthawk: Believe me...I am going to pull every trick I can. The play book on this one is at my full disposal. HAWK simply looked at Nighthawk. HAWK was well aware of Nighthawk's current mood. HAWK: Well...I guess that settles that. HAWK paused. HAWK: It is clear you are going. I can't talk you out of it...so perhaps I can help you with more than just stats and projections. HAWK held out his hand. As he did, a small holographic data file appeared above his hand. Nighthawk: What is that? HAWK: I took the liberty of finishing the firmware runtimes for the Cyclops hardware. Nighthawk: Finishing? I thought it was finished? HAWK: Well, it was. Bad choice of words. I guess I should have said..."improving"... Nighthawk: What dd you improve? HAWK: The Remote Procedure Call subroutines. HAWK paused. HAWK: I added a low-level API to enable direct hardware access. In short...we can seperate the man from the machine if need be. Nighthawk looked at HAWK. Nighthawk: Are you saying what I think you are saying? HAWK shrugged. HAWK: It is a possibility. I mean...nothing in life is certain. Nighthawk began to laugh. Nighthawk: How long will the firmware update take? HAWK: It should not take long...perhaps 5 minutes...give or take... Nighthawk: Start it...