Red Sky at Morning Options

[Trigger]

Glad the goat stepped up to bat, I would of struck out..... Trigger sighed slightly to hide his smile at the quick word play of the satyr, taking a sip of a very nice white wine that the hotel had here for them. Or rather that Mr. Johnson had paid the hotel to have here for them, can't forget who was footing the bills for this parade of decadence. Well, as long as there is a parade.... Trigger took another long sip of the wine and continued slowly on his salad, watching the meeting play out with interest.

[fistandantilus4....]

[ Spoiler ]

Bargaining 13 successes vs 15 from Ol' Scratch

Street Trash would not be here Mr. Scratch. You are here because certain persons have said that you're abilites and dedication are superb. The rewards offered as I stated are specifically for each mission objective. The chief of which would be the return of our scientist.

Should you succeed in his retrieval, I will compensate you each another $30,000. CAS dollars.

[Ol' Scratch]

Scratch nods a bit while popping another grape into his mouth.

He takes a moment to look around the table for any signs of discomfort at the deal, then continues. "Sounds like we have an accord, then." The satyr pauses for a beat, looking like he wanted to shake hands before remembering Johnsons didn't really go for that sort of thing in this day and age. "Let's move on to the nitty-gritty details then, yes?"

[fistandantilus4....]

The ship in question was called the Morning Fire. It was a modified freighter. Small amounts of cargo, moved from one continent to another, and the guise of an every day freighter, but armed to the teeth. It dissapeared 75 nautical miles north east of Jamaica, in the Caribbean League. Transponder searches have turned up nothing, so either the ship was completely destroyed or it's shielded somewhere. For finding the ship we will pay you $50,000 each. We will require some sort of proof and coordinates.

The prototypes are next generation antrhoforms. There are three of them. Each one was tagged with numerous stealth RIFD tags naturally. None of them are showing up on any scans of the area. We will provide you with those frequencies. You will each recieve $100,000 for the return of the drones.

Our missing doctor is one Dr Alfred Hannover. I can provide a picture and viable ritual sample, although it won't do you much good. It will allow you to authenticate the good doctor however. I assure you we have already put forth extensive resources into magical tracking and location. That is a dead end. For his return we will compensate you $150,000 each. His rescue is paramount.

The agreed upon sum of $30,000 will be provided to each of you today, before I leave this room, giving you ample resources to put to your task. I have no set time limit. However I would need an update every two days. I will provide you with a matrix drop box to forward information and reports to.

Before I go on, questions?

[Lady Door]

Sam listens intently as the Johnson speaks, filing away his information for later consideration. When he mentions the location, her eyebrow rises.
75 miles east of Jamaica? That would put the ship disappearing right in the heart of the Bermuda Triangle. No wonder ritual tracking hasn't worked.
... I assume, of course, that you will be supplying us with the specifications for the drones as far as height and weight are considered? ... and your Dr. Hannover... will this be a willing or unwilling rescue attempt? Do we have permission to drug or otherwise restrain the target?
Simple questions perhaps, but Sam had learned long ago that it was the small details that often meant the difference between getting paid ... or getting dead.

[fistandantilus4....]

General descriptions on the drones I can give you. You'll understand if I don't go in to more detail.

Dr Hannover will most likely be quite willing to accompany you home. If he is not, do your best not to hurt him.

[Fortune]

Toby savors another caramel-filled chocolate as he absorbs the details of the assignment. Content to let the others ask what questions they may, he pops another delicacy into his mouth and relaxes against the wall, observing what he can about Mr. Johnson, the job, and especially his new companions.

[Trigger]

Trigger restrains a visible cringe when the Johnson starts in on his description, keeping his mounting anxiety to himself. His ears stay tuned in on the details, filing them away in his memory as he falls into long ago memories of his childhood in the Tir.

The crystal clear waters and pristine tiled inlay of the corporate public swimming facility glistened in the afternoon sun, the retractable rooftop opened to light of early July in Portland. A tall and beautiful elf mother led her three children to the steps of the pool, the oldest dancing along in front of her, his golden hair reflecting the sun's rays like a halo around his head. The next oldest son walked to the rear of them, his shoulders slumped in boredom, his long, greasy, black hair hanging low, with the exception of a section pulled back over his left ear, displaying his newly acquired datajack gleaming at his temple. The youngest of the three walked very near his mother, short for his 8 years of age, with a messy head of black hair as well, reflecting purple highlights in the light. The boy clung to his mother's side, gazing at the pool with a slight fear in his eyes.

"Go on boys, the day is fine, have a swim," smiled the mother, urging her three darling children to the water. Kneeling down to the youngest at her side she spoke softly, "Go Koruamus, have fun with your brothers." She kissed his forehead lightly and sent off after the other two, already splashing in the water.

Taking ginger steps to the pools edge, Koruamus looked down at the blue mirror reflecting his skinny and frail body back at it. His swim trunks hung large on his tiny frame and his head seemed just a tad too big for such a small body, he looked sort of like a keebler elf with his ears sticking out so far as well. Staring at his reflection and the depths behind it, he took an step backwards from the edge, meaning to return to the safety of his mother's side.

"It is just water Koru, it won't bite you," called the middle boy, Korreus, from the pool, bobbing up and down in place, his stringy hair stuck to the sides of his head. "Don't be a chicken."

Koruamus glared silently at his older brother, holding his ground. He steeled himself against his brother's taunts, used to them for being so small or weak or awkward. But where was Korrin's taunt, it usually came in right along with Korreus', a biting remark from the golden eldest son.

Then he heard the silent padding and felt the hands against his bare back. Korrin had snuck up behind him and pushed the tiny boy into the pool, sending him flying into the deep end with his other brother. Koruamus hit the water with a gasp, inhaling a mouthful of the chlorinated liquid, sputtering and taking in more as he sunk into the embrace of the pool. Above him the sun glared down through the retractable roof of the facility, stinging his eyes before they slowly faded to darkness.

Trigger snapped out of his memories with a snap, realizing he hadn't touched his salad in a minute or two, and that his gaze had began to drift, leaving him drifting off into space while his mind was elsewhere. Mentally shaking himself awake, he turned his full attention back to the meeting, hoping no one had noticed his daydream.

[Ol' Scratch]

[Lady Door]

Sam's eyes widen momentarily at the ... thing that calls himself Scratch presumption. Maybe I've been operating out of Cuba too long... maybe things are done differently elsewhere... but I would never presume to speak to my employer so. Getting involved with this group could damage my rep if things continue this way.
Sam shifts uncomfortably in her chair and sips slightly from her water glass. When she speaks, she directs her comments to the Johnson.Sir, if I may... I understand your need for discretion regarding the nature of the anthroforms. Proprietary information and all that. I simply requested the gross weight and sizing due to shipping concerns. I would suggest my companions take a moment to realize the nature of the business we are involved in. Our employer can no more give us the specs of these particular drones then we would hand over access to our commlinks. Sam takes another sip of water before continuing to speak to the Johnson and vicariously, the team.
As I understand it, the implementation of the act our employer has hired us for is up to our discretion. Submarines, boats, etc. are all elements that we, as hired contractors are responsible for handling ourselves. An expense account, while generous, is not a mandate for this mission considering the generous recompense already provided.
Sitting back, Sam smiles at no one in particular and once again sips at her water.
Way to alienate the rest of the hired help, Ned. ... well, you know what, frag it if they can't handle a little careful diplomacy.

[fistandantilus4....]

[Ol' Scratch]

"Can't blame a fellow for trying, can you?" Scratch asked, producing a playful wink. A two-fold wink; partly to try and ease the Johnson's concerns and partly because he managed to get a reaction out of him. Guess he's metahuman afterall!

"Right. In that case I'm sound as a pound once you fill in the details we need. Unless anyone else has any questions, I'm ready to get this show on the road." Once again, the satyr readjusts himself in his chair while looking to his comrades expectedly.

[Fortune]

If Toby was surprised by the satyr's negotiating technique, he is totally floored by Sam's interjection. Even if he was opposed to what Scratch was asking, he would never even consider interrupting the process, let along arguing the side of the client.

He continues to observe the proceedings, not quite successful in concealing a smile at the client's response, but having regained his demeanor in time to nod to Scratch in answer to his unspoken query.

[toturi]

Cloud keeps his own counsel. He observes who takes what food and drinks and he settles in a corner to observe the interaction between the Johnson and the team negotiator. Team negotiators, it seems. His forte lay in keeping quiet and observing, that's exactly what he'd do.

[Trigger]

[Grinder]

Charlie follows the negotions with a dry smile. Always the same procedure. Annoying, time-consuming and with no respect from the J. to us runners. He chuckles.

[Lady Door]

Sam's uncomfortable smile grows more so as one by one she eyes the team. Finally she speaks, nearly interrupting the Johnson to do so.
My apologies, sir, but after careful consideration of both your offer and your hired... personnel, I feel that I am unable to accept. Thank you for your time and your gracious hosting. Sam rises and takes the last sip of water from her glass before wiping it down with her napkin. Please feel free to contact me again should you need ... professional services. I'll show myself the way out. Thank you.
Sam nods politely to the Johnson with a small smile and then turns and heads out of the ballroom.

[fistandantilus4....]

The Johnson nods, his face intentionally devoid of any kind of emotion and waits for the woman to leave the room. He has onr of his guards show her out.

[Trigger]

If you were just going to interrupt the negotiations, argue on the part of the Johnson, and generally be uncooperative with the Goat, why the hell did you show up? Trigger's gleaming emerald eyes watched the other elf strut out of the room, pondering her motives as she left. Was she a plant? Meant to keep our prices low and put a thorn into the sides of our negotiations? Hmm... After she leaves the room Trigger turns his attention back to the Johnson, paying attention much more closely now. A conspiracy may be a foot and he sure as hell wasn't going to fragged by it.

[Grinder]

This Johnson is really out of his usual environment. Inviting top runner is one thing, but it's important to make sure that they gonna work together. He should had checked the file about this elf more closely. If he does have a file...

Charlies eyes the other runners, to see their reaction to the unexpected leaving of Sam.

[Ol' Scratch]

Ol' Scratch leans further and further back in his chair as he watches the young elf chica strut her way out the door, to the point where he finally flips his head back to observe the scene upside down. "She's got moxie; gotta give her that." he says quietly to no one in particular. "Least she had the brass ones to know when to bolt rather than stick around and cause a problem. Hope I get the chance to work with her again. Broads like her are a rare find."

After watching the Johnson's bodyguard 'escort' her to the door, and masking a hint of a concern on his face as he does so, Scratch pulls himself back upright until he's seeing the world right-side-up again.

"So, where were we?"

[Fortune]

Toby can't help but roll his eyes as Sam pipes in yet again, and is left shaking his head as he watches the elf's departure.

[toturi]

Cloud watches the interactions and reactions of the other players in this game. He takes particular note of Charlie's reaction.

Mr. Johnson, perhaps this would be a good time to elaborate on the essentials of the mission. While I am certain that you have included redundancy with regards to this... project, I would like to know the skillset that the lady was bringing to the team. I am sure that whoever you had as backup will be adequate for the task but sometimes adequacy is a relative term and adjustments have to be made.

[fistandantilus4....]

Sammael was the infltrations expert. It seems your skills in the arcane will have to compensate for her loss should those skills be required.

I have one piece of evidence to provide for you , besides the last known coordinates of our ship. A video file that was transmitted from the ship, provided by one of our security assets' eye camera.

Mr Johnson sends an open file to each commlink present, while at the same time displaying it in holo format.

The video cuts to the action of the feed. it is indeed a point of view from someone's eye camera, making it a bit dissorienting as the owner of the eye looks wildly around, coming out of what looks to be the interior of a ship. He looks behind him to see three more men, not in uniforms, but carrying SMGs and assault shotguns. A hand comes into view as he waives them forward.

They run out on to the deck. A bright flash of red is seen, and flare compensation kicks in. A birlliant long ray of red energy lances out from somewhere off the brow, cutting a good slice through the hull of the ship, and pratically disintegrating one of the men that just came on deck. It's surreal seeing it play out in real time, watching men scream, but hearing no sound.

The security men gather them selves again, and run along the deck, heads moving as if responding to shouts. They round a corner, and are faced with a tall black ork, wearing little more than leathers and an open black vest. All three open fire, with no effect on the ork besides tearing his vest badly. He levels an old fashion double barreld shotgun, with a wicked grin on his face, directly at the camera's point of view. Then everything goes dark.

I think now you have a better understanding as to why you were all chosen. There is certainly some powerful assets being put to use in this situation. I need it dealt with firmly, and completely.

Do you have any questions?

[toturi]

Cloud tries to ignore the action and concentrate on the things that might be missed in the camera feed. He files the red energy weapon as well as the seemingly invulnerable ork for future reference.

I am just a simple man. What would I know about the arcane? Mr Johnson, I presume that your security people were unable to identify the ork?

Examines(observe) the video feed in detail

[ Spoiler ]

Intuition(7)+Perception(8)+Enhanced Perception(7)+Improved Skill Perception(3)+Visual Enhance(3)+Bioware(2)+Cyberware(3)+Nanoware(3)+3(Observe in Detail) = 39 dice.

(2,3,5,6,2,1,5)+(3,3,1,2,6,6,5,2)+(6,4,3,3,5,2,2)+(6,3,6)+(4,4,5)+(5,1)+(5,2,4)+(3,2,6)+(2,2,5)=15