IC: Way of the Yen, follow the money Options

[DireRadiant]

NuYen, its a crime.
Share it fairly but dont take a slice of my pie.
NuYen, so they say
Is the root of all evil today.
But if you ask for a raise its no surprise that they're
Giving none away.

[DireRadiant]

Outside Jerry's Place

RRRRAAAaaaaawwwrrrrrrrrrRRRRAAAaaaaawwwrrrrrrrrr

Low rumbles thumped to a close as a group of 4 tuskers rolled to a stop in the middle of the pot hole riddled street. After the thundering sound of their arrival the silence was deafening. Casually the group of red streaked leather clad riders dismounted and set the kickstands on their thoroughly road worn assortment of customized bikes. Ignoring the glares of the dispersing people in the streets the four of them made themselves comfortable in their saddles and began sharing sips of clear liquid in an old bottle of Nuke It Cola.

The four tuskers looked ready to wait for their business, whatever it was.

[DireRadiant]

Smitty's Repair Work

Business was brisk. Work orders, of various kinds, were in the queue scheduled for at least two weeks, plus an additional forecast of a month's worth of various off the books regular maintenance. A connection request on the private accessID interuppted a review of the schedule.

<<chowder:: ork-face here, I need an extra set of eyes and someone to ride shotgun for a pick up and delivery, small drive into the country side, 500 in it for you. Wednesday night. Interested in a break from rebuilding trannies?>>

[DireRadiant]

Rocking Good Times

Mick the Slick smiled as he proudly laid the percussion set on the counter. He tapped a brilliant oyster shell cymbal and watched for a reaction as the tones swept through the store.

"Five piece conch and oyster shell set, authentic carrib pirate, all natural fish gut and skin. Coral sticks. Try it out. If you're interested, I have a little job."

Confident in the expected reaction, the pawn broker continued, "I need you to go look around the Bump N Grind, it's a place like mine, down the street. Come back after you've taken a good look around it, tell me everything you can about what's inside. I think there's something I'm interested in, but I need an independent look. That's you."

"So?"

[Shard]

<<Lancer:: a drive in the country and some cash, you sure know how to woo a lowly street girl, Chowder. Name me a time and I'll be ready, you can pick me up. >>

Lancer hadn't known Chowder that long, but she was always able to push him a bit with a chide here or there. Perhaps the ork had to put up with so much seriously gruff stuff from gangers and the like that he just had to hide a smile and roll his eyes at her lightweight antics.

She grinned at the prospect of something new and slightly dangerous. Well, okay, the cash was a factor too. She knew she could trust the ork and he was no pushover, he'd have her back if something went wrong. After another glance at the crammed schedule, she heaved a tired sigh and got back to work. It was good to be busy.

[DireRadiant]

Pier 94

Frank looked over the information one more time, calculated the odds, made his mind up and called Edward.

<<8f907s9df7: It's your sugar daddy. Come meet me at my place by the water. Anytime tonight, I'm doing inventory, and you can help me with that.>>

Frank interuppted himself with a curse and aimed a few choice words at the drone forklift, "No no! That pallet goes in the special hold you stupid thing. And do not drop it or I'm sending you with it."

[DireRadiant]

Node asdf87897-as9df-hdf-2314-21

Translucent planes of candied glass pirouetted in space in random flashing orbits. One stopped tracking and executed a smooth parabolic intercept course, the edge on approach ending with the flat pane presented face on. The view in the was a sunlit beach with waves crashing noisily under the blue sky and a backdrop of a smoking mountain.

Jimmy White-Feather's shuttlecock icon overlay what was probably real time imagery from his location.

<<Hey, I'm on vacation, but I got wind of something that needs a real time site visit. I get a finders fee if you take it. So you want the details?>>

<<And do you know what a pain it is tracking you down? The stupid system didn't even know you were here.>>

[DireRadiant]

Hido Eruchi, Paranormal Investigator, 129 Redmond Arms Apartments, Redmond

The knock at the door carried metallic overtones as the delivery drone, unusual in this neighborhood, rapped for attention. A few moments later, as pre scripted it lay the package on the mat, ensured the note was tied to it, and retreated to it's mothership. The scratch patched brown step van collected it's drone and drove off.

[ Spoiler ]

The package is an unwrapped bottle of scotch with an optical message chip attached. On the chip is a signature reading "Sasha"

Slotting the chip into a reader on the Sony Emperor reveals the following message. "200 if you show up to hear the pitch." a commcode 1a890ud765s75fa blinks

[rathmun]

<8204DFA3: You know, if you keep sending your drones along with your shipments your customers will start expecting free stuff, and then where will you be? See you later.>

I suspect the 'help' he needs with inventory is because it's someone else's inventory at the moment. This could be fun...

Fairly early in the evening Edward makes his way to the docks to see what Frank needs. Various pieces of gear stashed about his person.

"So, what's the deal?" Once Frank's heart climbs back down his throat he replies "What have I told you about sneaking up on me?" "Don't." "So why do you still do it?" "I didn't, you just need new ears. I'm sure the old man can hook you up. Anyway, I hear you need some inventory help."

[Meatbag]

Translucent planes of candied glass pirouetted in space in random flashing orbits. One stopped tracking and executed a smooth parabolic intercept course, the edge on approach ending with the flat pane presented face on. The view in the was a sunlit beach with waves crashing noisily under the blue sky and a backdrop of a smoking mountain.

Abigail is drifting into digital meditation, entirely placid, but extremely attentive. She watches the incoming call drift in front of her nose and flick to life, but doesn't react.

Jimmy White-Feather's shuttlecock icon overlay what was probably real time imagery from his location.

<<Hey, I'm on vacation, but I got wind of something that needs a real time site visit. I get a finders fee if you take it. So you want the details?>>

Abby offers an appreciative whistle. "Not even a postcard? For shame, Jimmy." Though she idly teases, she's already reflexively groping at the spider's firewalls, seemingly only noticing when her access is denied.

<<Sorry about that, force of habit, y'know? Who, what, where, how much? I know better than to expect the "why", I'll have to puzzle that out on my own time. >>

<<And do you know what a pain it is tracking you down? The stupid system didn't even know you were here.>>

<<You have no idea how comforting that is, omae, none at all.>>

Abby's already peeking through the VR haze, squaring away her minimal kit. It's all so familiar that she can perform the ritual passably even with her senses altogether gone.

[Psikerlord]

Omen, aka Hido Eruchi, breaks into a big smile when he sees the bottle of scotch. Recognising his fixer's name on the tag he slots the message chip and cracks open the bottle. Pouring himself a shot, he throws it back, a familiar burning sensation sliding down his throat, and a comforting warmth spreading through his old bones. Not bad at all, he muses, screwing the top back on. He pauses, holding the bottle in his hand, listening to the swish of the liquid as he rolls it around a moment longer. Reluctantly, he places the bottle in kitchen rack.

Moving to the small loungeroom, he eases himself down onto an ancient but comfortable chair, switching off the trid with a voice command. Returning his attention to his 'link, he texts a short message to commcode 1a890ud765s75fa: <<Sasha, what a thoughtful gift. Thank you. How can I say no? Send me the time and place. I'll be glad to hear what your Johnson has to say.>>

Omen looks around at his tiny apartment, groaning at the mess of clothes, books, data slates, food containers, bottles, chalks, mixing bowls and ungents, strings of feathers, fur and stone. Under a small pile of empty stuffer-shack containers he spots a bag of half scattered rune-bones. Ah. I knew you were here somewhere. Must be time to get that cleaning dwarf in again?

[DireRadiant]

Pier 94

The older man nodded to Edward, "Got a deal lined up. Colleague of mine did the legwork. Figured you and a couple other pros I'm checking out could do the pickup for me."

Frank winked, "You'll need to call me Johnson during the meet."

"They'll be by in a bit, make sure you aren't spooked when they show up."

[Zaranthan]

Orange Grove, Jerry's panic room
Jerry didn't blink at the engines' approach, but when they died nearby, he looked up from the figurine he was painting. "Always in the middle of a base coat." A few more seconds to finish the surface he was working on, then he set the figure on a clamp to dry and stood up to gather his street gear. His eyes lit up as he passed the huge axe on the wall. "Let's make an impression today." The odds of needing the Big Choppa were minimal, if the noisemakers were coming to trade blows instead of words his window would be shattered by now.

As he walked down the hallway, a couple text messages came in from the various worrywarts with street-view windows. He used his hands to virtually mash them all into a ball, stamped his standard <<Don't worry, I'll handle it.>> response, and threw the ball up, sending a mass message to let them know they weren't the only ones concerned. Hopefully they'd spend enough time chattering to each other to give him enough time to get the bikers on their way without further interruptions.

Jerry's shades darkened as he stepped out onto the stoop. He swept his gaze up and down the street. The usual unwashed masses huddled here and there, but the four orks in the street were getting a wide berth. His image enhacement software automatically showed him refined images of their faces as he focused on them. He relaxed, as they clearly weren't starting trouble, shouldered his axe, and called out in Or'Zet, "Mornin, boyz. How'r ya bladez?"

[DireRadiant]

Node asdf87897-as9df-hdf-2314-21

The shuttlecock bounced up and down a couple of times and displayed a crayon line grin.

<<Pier 49<<time and location data>> meet in the flesh, <<key codes>> for the door, he'll make the pitch. Percentage for you, he's cutting me a finders fee if you work out. I've already hacked the place, looks like he's one of those hard core types keeps all of his stuff off the 'trix or in his head, but if you find out let me know. Some people are a bit sensitive if you go digging around on the first meet, unlike me where I don't mind giving my agents a bit of a workout every time we chat, so you might want to be careful if you do that.>>

In the background a tanned arm reaches and grabs the shuttlecock and starts hauling it off the window.

<<whoa, gotta go....>>

[DireRadiant]

Hido Eruchi, Paranormal Investigator, 129 Redmond Arms Apartments, Redmond

<<1a890ud765s75fa : <<Time and Location Codes>> <<Key Codes>> <<Account transfer record>> >>

The sony emperor blinked and buzzed in the not so often heard sound of a positive account transfer.

[DireRadiant]

Orange Grove, Street

"Egrandu erath Jerry"the lead tusker said as he straightened and faced the approaching Jerry. He grasped the bottle in a weather worn fist from one of the others and tossed it over in a gentle arc, "Hurlg." The other three tuskers stood and glared outwards in a protective circle.

The tusker pointed his hand at the 116 patched on his right shoulder, "116th street chapter. Yerz if you let us use your ereth for an exchange you mediate."

[Zaranthan]

Orange Grove, Street

Jerry Caught the bottle with his good hand, held it up to the light, and swirled it around. Damn bikers. No manners, but always getting their hands on good stuff. He took a swig. The barrens-style hurlg would've fried a pinker tongue, but Jerry felt the subtle brutalities that only an ork can enjoy. Or perhaps an unusually cultured trog. Jerry savored the aftertaste as he approached to a less shouty distance (though still beyond deadman's range). "Good stuff, 116. Got yerselfs a deal. I 'ope this ain't just a bunch of ujnorts tradin' hoops"

[Psikerlord]

Hido Eruchi, Paranormal Investigator, 129 Redmond Arms Apartments, Redmond

Omen's smile broadens as the 200 is transferred into Eruchi's account. Appearance fee up front. Wiz.

Absorbing the message, he moves into the bedroom and puts on his "work" clothes: long sleeved shirt, black pants, comfortable shoes and a dark blue longcoat. He grabs a yellowing bone bracelet from a dresser draw, and throws his favourite white scarf round his neck. Pulling a small backpack from his hall cupboard, he pokes around inside it, making sure all "work" equipment is there, before plucking out his contacts and earbud and fitting them. Slinging the pack over one shoulder, he heads for the garage, scooping up the rune-bones and his mahogany cane on the way.

Omen's dark green Evo Cruiser pops the door with a voice command, and the old shaman gingerly lowers himself into the driver's seat with a grunt. Stowing his cane and pack on the passenger side, he activates the ignition with his palm print and keys the roller door. The innocuous sedan rolls out onto the street, Omen lighting up a hand rolled cigarette as the car autopilots itself to the meet location. Nothing like a good smoke, the old shaman reminds himself, enjoying the ride.

Pier 94

Some time later, Omen pulls up at the pier and kills the engine. Struggling out of the car, he looks about the place, allowing his contacts a moment to adjust to the lighting before stepping away and activating the Cruiser's anti-theft. The old man makes his way to the door, his step spritely despite leaning on his cane. Knocking twice, he curses his ageing wit before digging up the key codes and punching them in.

I really am getting old, he chides, shuffling in after the door opens.

[rathmun]

Pier 94: earlier

Clapping a hand on Franks shoulder "You know I don't spook as easily as you do. I'm going to go outside to watch them show up, no need to make it obvious I actually know you."

Pier 94: as Omen arrives

Edward watches Omen arrive from the roof opposite the door.
Looks a little old for this, Wonder why he's still in?

[DireRadiant]

Early Wednesday Evening, Smitty's Repair Work

"Beep Beep", Chowders sleek black pickup honked as he rolled up to the doors and stopped for it's passenger.

<<chowder:: Your chariot awaits.>>

[Shard]

Early Wednesday Evening, Smitty's Repair Works

Lancer looked up from making a few adjustments to the main board of Nissan grocery getter. Some lugnut do it yourselfer had tried to find his way around the speed governnor on it and fried the damned thing. Better a toasted board than a totalled vehicle though, no doubt his wife would agree. She slipped on her armor lined longcoat and made sure her pistol, extra clips, and flashpaks were secured in their inside 'pockets' before zipping it up. She eyed her Remi scattergun for a moment and decided to grab it. Even if it stayed in the truck during the meet, it was better there than in the garage if she needed it. Finally, she grabbed a black briefcase near the door. Inside were her iBall, flyspy, and optic-x drones, each nestled in their own foam compartments.

Chowder's truck, which he'd called Razer, gave her a bit of a thrill every time she saw it. Even its name was wiz! It was something like she'd want to have if she ever accumulated the means. Well, maybe something a little smaller would suit her better. She was slightly giddy as she pulled herself up into the passenger seat with the briefcase next to her and Remington between her knees. "I figured it couldn't hurt," she said with a bashful shrug and pulled on her AR goggles. An encrypted security code from her comm engaged the shop's security system before they left.

As the ork drove, she removed the flyspy and the iBall from the briefcase and got them loaded up with clearsight autosofts and subscribed to her comm so they'd be ready to go. Chowder gave her a look when she stuck the gecko'd iBall onto her door panel, but said nothing. "So what are we expecting tonight? Just a pickup and delivery? Sounds easy enough..." As she talked she idly accessed Razer's node and browsed the truck's diagnostics to make sure everything was up to snuff. It was habit. Once she was satisfied, she minimized the AR window, but kept the link open, and probably would for the remainder of tonight's run.

[Meatbag]

An extremely harmonious rathole, Everett.

Abigail snaps back to the physical world, surveying the mess she's made of her gear. The holster's strapped to the wrong side of her arm, the revolver's in backwards and her commlink's on the floor, but still, it's several times better than average.

A quick squaring-away later and she's out the door - or at least she would be, if it didn't swing shut and lock in her face.

"Just had to be today, didn't it? Open up or I'll have you thrown into the Hell of Excessive Compression!"

Pier 94

After a good half-hour of screaming at, threatening, negotiating with and begging her mischievous household spirits, plus another of scouring Pier 49 and three minutes of cursing her dyslexic colleague, Abagail finally rolls up astride a not-so-majestic Segway.

"The gang's all here, eh? Must be some really wiz job, I guess." Abby says aloud, more to herself than anyone.

She'd introduce herself, but the glasses, the flats and the vehicle already said "resident geek" better than she ever could.

[rathmun]

Pier 94: after a couple of other people have showed up

Lets see, segway, flats, glasses, Glad my 'link is hidden.
Edward drops down from the roof and follows the geek in the door. his sudden appearance may startle Abby a bit, as his 'link was running hidden. Upon entering the building he asks of the other two, "Only three of us so far. Either of you know how many more we should be expecting?"

[Meatbag]

Pier 94: after a couple of other people have showed up

Lets see, segway, flats, glasses, Glad my 'link is hidden.
Edward drops down from the roof and follows the geek in the door. his sudden appearance may startle Abby a bit, as his 'link was running hidden. Upon entering the building he asks of the other two, "Only three of us so far. Either of you know how many more we should be expecting?"

Abby twists about with a start. her loyal steed whirring in protest. She would've tumbled back if it weren't for her pilot-assisted balance.

Appraising the situation, her lips curl into a devious grin.

"Your guess is as good as mine, omae. A particularly attentive observer can see her subvocalizing something more, just as an ominous progress bar flits into being on Edward's AR display.

Uploading BlaVenger.Wyrm

12%, 26%. 63% 99%

Just fuckin' with ya!

[rathmun]

Abby twists about with a start. her loyal steed whirring in protest. She would've tumbled back if it weren't for her pilot-assisted balance.

Appraising the situation, her lips curl into a devious grin.

"Your guess is as good as mine, omae. A particularly attentive observer can see her subvocalizing something more, just as an ominous progress bar flits into being on Edward's AR display.

Uploading BlaVenger.Wyrm

12%, 26%. 63% 99%

Just fuckin' with ya!

As the unexpected progress bar appears, Edward reaches down and toggles the power button on his 'link. "Good reaction time, But I think I'll leave this off for now."
Responds Edward, his voice shifting into a near perfect imitation of Abby's.