2072: Game World, IC thread for 2072: Recruitment always open! Options

[karhig]

@Virtual Scream / Cat, Dubstep, Dante
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: Active, SIN: Moll Flanders (Fake SIN Rtg 4), System: 2, Signal: 2, Response: 2, Firewall: 2

Following Dante's lead, Cat hands over her commlink to Dubstep. I hate handing my 'link to a stranger, but I guess I have no choice if I want to get it cleaned. "Don't forget we're going shopping for upgrades to this old thing after lunch too."

Cat listens attentively to Dante as he explains his not-to-complicated plan. Hardly sounds like shadowrunning, but he has a point that it could bring in some cash. As the food arrives she thanks the waitress in Chinese and begins the difficult (for a westerner) process of eating noodles the 'proper' way.

"I can definitely see how Dubstep could earn a chunk of cash removing this thing from peoples commlinks, but I doubt he'll be the only person on the market offering the same service, and please don't take that as me belittling your skills Dubstep. I'd certainly be entirely stuck without your help!"

After another spoonful of noodles and broth she continues, "I've already mentioned that I'm not an expert in Matrix matters, but even I can see that a virus that can infect such a broad number of links so rapidly and successfully has a lot of value, but I can't really see who's going to be prepared to buy bits of it off us when there's clearly such a superabundance of the damn thing already. Virtual body parts are available everywhere you look!" Not to mention that there's not a single bit of this plan that they need my help with!

[Aria]

@E:PL/Chi Town/Copperhead
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; Cortland St, overlooking the river, CZ, Chicago]

Fatigue busting drugs coursing through your system you set off after the fleeting form of your serpent spirit as it sniffs out that ghoul from the image in your mind. Your anger makes you feel invulnerable until Snake hisses a reproval at you…a cool mind, clarity, focus, strike from the shadows…whilst some people might resent this, sometimes nagging, voice in their head for you it is an assurance that your connection to the Power is there, even in this polluted nightmare zone…

Your spirit draws you into a semi-ruined hab block where you are fairly certain Snag will be lurking, probably somewhere with a view of the bridge. At least closing down the distance between you will limit the usefulness of that boom stick of his, assuming he can hit a barn door with it, and increase the effectiveness of your shotgun.

The shattered doors open into what would once have been a nice foyer and atrium space…now it is a world of shadows and decay with just the lingering trace of the pain and suffering that has been felt here. Something makes you look up into a darkened corner and you see the frightful reflected light in compound eyes…the spirit is a watcher as far as you can tell, certainly without strength, and as it scuttles towards you it reveals its eight chitinous legs…


@E:PL/Chi Town/Gemeaux, Mordred & Tsubaki
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; East of the river, Clybourn Ave, CZ, Chicago]

The last seven weeks have been bloody murder, mostly in the long drawn out boredom of being squirreled away on an Atlantic bound freighter, but now in the frantic dash across the murderous CZ, Argent’s assertion that this would be better than trekking through a war zone might need to be re-evaluated. It was all very well on paper but this place had to be experienced to be understood, and you’d rather not be experiencing it right now!

Collot looks up suddenly, his son bouncing along on his back is notably staring in the same direction…

"La, the other side, the other side of the river, there are more of us there, in trouble…we must help them…it is only a few hundred meters but we must hurry"

***

The escape from Stillwater had been dramatically uneventful although not exactly the smooth ride you might have hoped for. From sitting in that cramped mini-sub whilst Argent worked her charms on you, appealing to your professionalism and reputations, you’d struck out across country on foot, relying on your natural stealth abilities and the assistance of one of Tsubaki’s spirits to remain concealed from the corp watchers. You’d briefly observed reinforcements turn up to sweep through the compound but thankfully you evaded them and their aerial search drones that periodically scouted the surrounding hills. It did provide an interesting nugget of pay data, one of the people who turned up and was obviously in charge showed up on a facial recog as a European exec of a minor corp called SinTec…they seemed to have too much weight behind them for that to be anything other than some kind of front…ah the joys of corp machinations, perhaps you something you will get a chance to follow up when you get back to civilisation.

Following a mapsoft you’d hiked the five or so kilometres north east to the small town of Porlock and the chance to acquire a vehicle to take you on to Bristol. Travelling by back roads over rough terrain you got to see more of the rural idyll (ruin) of Britain than you felt comfortable with but either luck or some guiding providence kept you out of sight of the authorities. By morning you’d slipped into the outskirts of Bristol to a safehouse suggested to you by your ever helpful fixer (just how much is this lot going to set you back anyway? Fixers rarely do anything for free!). Resupplying hadn’t taken long, avoiding any kind of camera had been more difficult.

More than a week later and you were finally ensconced on the freighter Queen’s Charm, which was anything but. The mostly automated vessel had little crew to interact with, leaving you to while away your time on keeping yourselves trim and honing your VR game skills! Sharing cramped quarters with Luc tried all your nerves as the restless toddler attempted all sorts of unsupervised mischief.

The gruelling journey wasn’t helped by a layover in freezing Greenland after engine problems but you’d eventually arrived in the UCAS a week ago leaving just the final leg up to Chi Town in a smuggler train.

The compound at Blackwater had been surprisingly homely for a hole in the ground in a former bug nest! It had helped you to forget about the desolate sights of the CZ while you rested up in preparation for your trek out and then to your respective final destinations. Then it had all gone to hell when the place started to explode around your ears. You’d had an inkling that something was up as a number of groups of runners had arrived the day before to cart off a couple of the inhabitants. Nobody had seen fit to inform you of anything though until Collot had come to you in the dust and the smoke and begged you to get him and some of the others out again…

***
In the distance you hear the rattle of autofire. Something is happening all right! You haven’t seen the corp forces for at least a couple of hours now so it might be safe enough to intervene…might be! These Stillwater lot were going to owe you some serious compensation for this fubar!

[phlapjack77]

@Virtual Scream / Dante, Dubstep, Cat
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: hidden, Response 1, Signal 3, System 2, Firewall 1

"Let us work fast to find as many pieces as we can. In my opinion you are good at making friends. If you can find ways to contact people and find more pieces, this could be very helpful. I can accompany you and Dubstep to make sure not one person bothers you. As we receive more and more pieces, hopefully we will also learn who is involved and who is interested in buying our collection..."

Dante pauses to notice Dubstep's head resting on the tabletop. He briefly considers seeing if this foreigner has something valuable on him, taking it while Dubstep was lost to the world. After all, it was the foreigner's fault that he left himself so unprotected like this. It would just be business, not personal. But with a small shake of his head, Dante throws that thought away. This wouldn't be a good way to start a new partnership with foreigners. They view these kinds of arrangements differently than he did. He was learning, slowly but surely, day-by-day. It was still such a different culture than he was used to. Looking back up, he meets Cat's eyes and gives a small smile and a shrug. He tries to turn his hestitation into something more innocuous as he places his iBall drone on the table.

"If he continues to stay like this, his noodles will get cold."

[RdMarquis]

@E:PL/Chi Town/Gemeaux, Mordred & Tsubaki
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; East of the river, Clybourn Ave, CZ, Chicago]
SIN: Spencer Lovett, PAN: Hidden

Initiation scene

[ Spoiler ]

Naturally, it was in Greenland that Mordred received instructions to begin the ritual. Naturally, it required certain preparations. Frowning at the thought of what lay ahead, Mordred stripped down to his pants. He strode out onto the deck, where the wind and ice were waiting for him. It hurt. He had known cold could be unpleasant, even dangerous, but that was before his wanderings had brought him so close to the Arctic Circle. It was physically painful to be out here. Yet, there he stood. And Mordred would remain until he and his mentor spirit were finished.

The first few minutes were devoted to breathing. To centering himself and blocking out the cold. Gradually, the cold faded, until there was only the surface he was standing on. Even the swaying of the boat was gone. "Shall we begin?"

The dragon was there. "Ask yourself what magic means to you." An ugly scar ran down the adept's back. Starting on his left shoulder blade and running down to his side. Matching ones were imprinted on the back of an arm and leg. Mordred traced a line over the red marks, imbuing them with mana. Almost instantly, that pain from long ago flared to the surface. It spread to his limbs, and already he could feel them wavering unsteadily. Magic had compensated for the injuries he had incurred in his fight with a former colleague. His almost perfect awareness of the positioning of his body and increased reflexes made him even more capable than before his Awakening.

But in that moment, his powers vanished. Mordred remained still. He wasn't sure he would keep his balance if he moved even an inch. The temptation to drop his focus for a minute just to make sure the wind didn't blow him over was considerable. It was a perfect demonstration of how weak, at least physically, he would be without magic. "This speaks for itself. I wouldn't be a runner if I hadn't Awakened, or the person I am in general." But the purpose of his magic was more important than its meaning. "Stealth isn't just hiding, you know. It's waiting and watching. I've done plenty of both, and so much of what I saw was the despair, pain and corruption the pervades our world. With magic, I can change that. I can fight for something better than what we have now. Even the people who perpetuate the state of the world."

His abilities surged back as the dragon rebuked him. "You overestimate yourself. The pursuit of this goal will earn you enemies far too strong and numerous to contend with. On some level, you do understand that." Involuntarily opening his eyes, Mordred found himself in what looked like a rundown airport. The floor and walls showed signs of damage, the equipment looked decades old, and the occupants were sullen and silent. In the distance was a sprawling city, wreathed in a thick grey mist. He was in his dark blue suit. So was the dragon. It took the appearance of a middle aged man with regal bearing, but Mordred could recognize it. No human would have those unnatural gold eyes. Before he could say anything, it charged.

To his credit, Mordred blocked the first punch. But it carried such force that the impact rattled him to his core. The adept forced his way in close to yank down its jacket and pin back its arms. The dragon dropped to one knee and smashed an elbow into his ribs. The strike sent Mordred reeling. He staggered back, gasping for air. Something broke. He was almost sure. "You fight like a ruffian. Had I not engaged you at such close range, your first move would have been to draw your pistol. And you believe fighting on equal terms is for fools." It rushed him, knee raised to smash into Mordred's chest. The adept met the attack head on, throwing his arm down to protect himself. Mordred stabbed at the dragon's throat with his outstretched fingers. It growled, but didn't waver an inch, not even when he followed up with a combination of punches.

He drew blood. A normal metahuman would have ended up with a fatal wound. Mordred had given the dragon a cut on one of its very angular cheekbones. It drove him back with a push. With its hands free, it removed a handkerchief from a pocket, then delicately wiped the blood away. "You know you would never survive direct conflict with them. You are weaker in ways, but not so much as to be harmless. So, you strike from the shadows. You fight with the desperation of a man who has nothing to lose and everything to gain." Every bystander had long fled. An alarm was sounding in the distance, joined by the harsh grind of closing security doors. "And in the end, the effects your actions have may be minimal." The dragon's next move was too quick to see, let alone counter. Mordred simply found himself pinned against the wall, his mentor's grip tightening around his chest. His dress shirt was stained red.

"The corporations are beasts too large to be felled by any single blow. The enemies you slay are inevitably replaced by new ones. You cannot protect everyone you mean to. Put aside your naivete." Heedless of his wounds, Mordred lunged, pulling the narrow end of the dragon's tie as if it were a lifeline. As the adept hoped, it snarled and clawed at the improvised garrote. He threw a wild punch at his opponent's eye and backed away. Shaking like a leaf, Mordred drew his gun and leveled it at his mentor. "Ok...ok. You got me. I can admit that much. This all might just come to nothing." The dragon tossed a shredded tie to the ground, still managing to fix the adept with an imperious gaze in spite of a swelling eye. It nodded. "Odds are it might come to nothing. Save for my death." Hopefully, not that of anyone he cared about.

"I can accept that. I will accept that. You neglected, by the way, to mention that I still commit crimes, even kill for a living in spite of my beliefs." Mordred was breathing heavily. "I admit it freely. This ill advised crusade might be doomed for failure. But I will not give up on it. The end result is not the issue, here. I'll let the megacorps worry about the bottom line. I'm interested in the moment." And for the moment, Mr. Collot and his son were with people that wouldn't reject them for being Emerged. Perhaps they might even find a safe place to live out their lives. "A moment in which people don't have to worry about the status quo. Look, I never claimed to be a hero. These days there might not be any left. I only believe this is something I have to do. Besides, anything worth doing carries a risk. You took a risk on me, didn't you? Temperamental, and hopelessly idealistic. Yet you still chose me."

"Indeed," The dragon conceded. Behind him, a group of people equipped disturbingly like their enemies from the UK were approaching. Calmly, it turned to look out the window. "This is a mere facsimile of your destination. When you truly arrive, your purpose shall be tested far more strenuously than I have." So, that was Chicago. From a distance, it looked just like any other sprawl. Too bad he was going to find out otherwise. Mordred's reflection in the glass shifted. He was now looking at a glowing, ethereal figure wreathed in dark smoke that resembled armor. "Time is short. Finish it." Mordred knew what to do, somehow. He forced himself to relax, suppressing his internal mana. Correspondingly, his reflection changed to the pale blue of a healthy mundane.

"An acceptable start. But just that." Mordred was back on the ship. And he was freezing cold. "I suggest you find someplace warm. The cold will become dangerous to you in a matter of seconds." The adept didn't need to be told twice. It was as if his fight with the dragon had actually happened. His entire body ached as he staggered inside.

His mentor spirit did not speak again until he had brushed the ice from his hair and dressed. "Camlann." Mordred didn't understand. "What?"

"The name was given to me long ago, and is most appropriate to our arrangement. As your namesake met his fate in that battle, so shall you meet your fate with me at your side. You may address me by that."

"So be it...Camlann."

The trip had given Mordred the chance to resupply and take care of some items on a long list of chores. It would have been optimistic to call it a respite, however. And as usual, the brief period of inaction was coming to a violent end. The adept drew his pistol. "Stay back, Monsieur Collot," he murmured. "We'll see to this." He activated the magnification on his goggles to get a closer look at what they were dealing with.

He looks back to the others. "Shall we?" The adept had learned his lesson from the last couple of times. As he runs, Mordred pulls on his gas mask.

[Notsoevildm]

@Virtual Scream, Alex Bianchi
September 2, 2072, 12:43; Not quite the Barrens
Renraku Sensei: Hidden | SIN: Jimmy Delfino (Fake ID, Rating 3) (Re 2 - Sig 4 - Fi 2 - Sys 2)

Alex slips quietly towards the main entrance to the apartment block. He glances back to check the drone is following him and almost trips at the sight. Charlie is tip-toeing along behind him on the tips of it's treads in an ungainly, slow but silent gait.

He reaches the main stairwell and climbs the two flights of stairs without incident, edging around rubble and garbage with caution. At the top of the second flight, a careful glance down the corridor reveals one door that is not boarded over. The red flickering of a maglock LED marks it as his target destination. The drone pulls up beside him, lowering itself back down onto its treads as if sensing speed will be more important here than stealth.

A message from Harvey pings up in his AR.

<<Need help with the lock? I can probably override it but not without letting them know.>>

[Notsoevildm]

@E:PL/Chi Town/Copperhead
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; Cortland St, overlooking the river, CZ, Chicago]

...a cool mind, clarity, focus, strike from the shadows...

Snake's hissed comment strikes her like a physical blow, pulling her to a halt. Sometimes it's hard for Copperhead to tell where her mentor ends and Cutter's lessons on how to survive on the streets take over. In either case, she pays them both heed.

Breathing hard from her run, she gulps air as she takes stock of her surroundings and spots the chittering spider watcher.

Frag! Either Snag is a mage or he's got one backing him up. Explains how he healed up and got ahead of us. Should have worked that out earlier.

Pulling her magical defences tight around her, she hisses a mental warning to her spirit as the watcher approaches.

Sstill your anger, little sspirit. There iss a mage about. Ssearch the building but do not engage with him. Find out how many ghoulss are here and if the one called Ssnag iss the mage amongsst them.

She grins up at the spirit as it closes. The expression is hidden by her respirator, but the emotion is clear on the astral. When it gets within range of her staff, she strikes. Not with the mechanical strength of her arms, but with all the rage and anger of her will.

[Notsoevildm]

@Virtual Scream / Dante, Dubstep, Cat
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]

Dubstep
The garishly coloured walls fade as your head droops onto your chest. The matrix swirls around you and you focus on the two nodes in front of you. You recognise Cat's commlink from last night, no not last night but this morning. Dante's commlink is the second node. It's one of the links on your list and is clearly no more powerful than Cat's. If you are going to work with this pair, they are going to need more than a software upgrade. These links will have to go. But until then you might as well make sure you can access them if needed, so you add a little backdoor to each device before moving on to examine the viruses.

Cat's link has a large lump of flesh that she identified as a liver, while Dante's has a hand. As you draw back from the links in preparation to transfer them to the Mitsuhama node, you spot a third node, an iBall drone. The drone is also on your list and has the same access code as Dante's link. You mentally 'tut' at the lack of security. It contains a bloodshot eye complete with trailing optic nerves. You pull away again, noting several other nodes in the vicinity including the noodle shop's server and several other commlinks.

As you log onto the Mitsuhama Nexus to begin the transfer, your heart and soundtrack both skip a beat. The node is empty. No, not completely empty. The virtual scream files are gone but there is a single data file in the form of a sheet of paper.

Cat
As Dubstep's head droops you turn your attention to the grimy orc sitting next to you. His clothes look as if they haven't been cleaned in forever. And you don't want to think about when he last had a bath or shower. But it is the cybernetic hands that catch your attention. Is it just his hands that have been replaced or both his arms?

Dante
The elf girl is a looker but clearly out of her depth. Even her 'street' outfit is too new, too expensive and too clean. And she's not an elf either. Nymph, no that not right. A dryad that's it.

---

Dante, Cat
The waitress' scream is the first sign of trouble. followed by the crashing of PlasGlas beer bottles onto the floor. Glancing to the waitress then to the distintive 'ratatatat' of a cheap SMG, you see three gangers burst into the restaurant. They all wear white hockey masks identifying them as Jasons - a minor group of white supremacist humanis gangbangers to those in the know.

Their leader, who is waving around an ancient Uzi, calls out.

"Don't try nuffin an no-one gets hurt. Just hand over yer links and other electronics and youse gooks gets to live another day."

Behind him, the two other gangers fan out. One is chunky and holds an equally ancient Predator pistol. The other is skinny and holds a Colt America in one hand and some sort of handheld scanner in the other.

Dubstep
As you move to examine the letter, the music in your ears takes on an ominous tone.

<<Trouble in the real, boss!>> warns Cindy.

[karhig]

@Virtual Scream / Cat, Dubstep, Dante
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: Active, SIN: Moll Flanders (Fake SIN Rtg 4), System: 2, Signal: 2, Response: 2, Firewall: 2

Before she can respond to Dante, breaking glass and gunfire erupt inside the previously peaceful restaurant. Cat flinches from the sound and instinctively looks for something to hide behind. She clings to Dante's arm, only partially noticing the unyielding feel of his arm beneath his clothes.

A voice shouts out over the sudden silence, demanding commlinks and electronic items. Nothing worth dying for. Trusting, perhaps naively, that doing what's asked of her will prevent bloodshed, Cat's panic subsides a little. Some of the corp training on hostage survival even begins to surface at the edge of her mind. Braving a look around past Dante's bulky form she sees three gangers with their faces covered by white masks, concealing any emotion they might have on their faces. They spread out so they can see as much of the restaurant as possible.

<<@Dubstep, Dante[Cat]: This isn't my kind of ball game. I'll give them what they want unless either of you have a better plan.>>

[Aria]

@E:Tribes
September 1, 2072 22:28; Ambushed near the Freedom Mall, Puyallup

Sprogget

Swerving hard round behind the van you manage to clip the Harley in the rear wheel as the bastard manages to divert his bike away from the main strength of your ram. As you whip past you are aware of LeFey shooting at him and despite the awkward angle you see the dart impact into the shoulder of his coat and discharge in a wash of sparks. Your excitement is short lived as he heels over his bike and starts chasing you! The feral grin looms on your rear facing monitor and you see the fist lashing out before there is a grinding impact and a surge of energy through your bike. The SIM backlash is intense but thankfully your feedback filter halts it before it can make your eyeballs bleed!

LeFey

As you are thrown against Sprogget by the impact with the Harley you get an up close and personal view of the evil looking mage and his glowing fist. His scarred visage leers as you go by and it is with some satisfaction that you plant the targeting reticule over his torso and fire! The dart impacts but something about the way the energy flashes away suggests there are serious non-conductive layers in that coat. As you fumble to reload, vowing to go for a headshot next time, the mono bike lurches and there is a titanic boom from behind you and the distressing sound of broken machinery…

Scrapheap

Ignoring the whirling bikes behind you and the sound of their struggles you focus your rage on the rust wagon charging towards you. From behind the cover of the first Americar you watch as a gunner begins to emerge from the roof. The slug from your shotgun damn near takes his head off along with a sizeable portion of the armoured lid…

Spring

Well you don’t have the backup of Scrapheap leaving you feeling distressingly isolated on your scooter in the middle of a fire fight! You are forced to duck as the crotch rocket fires past on your right heading south and the pillion rider launches a burst of Uzi fire in vaguely your direction…time to be somewhere safer!

Tweak

The van doesn’t seem to have been overly damaged by the mage and his vicious attack but now the combat seems to be retreating towards your rearview…there’s bugger all chance of you catching one of the racing bikes in this lumbering beast, at least not except with an extreme degree of fluke…so, swing the van round and charge another Americar…?

[mister__joshua]

@E:CoP/Johnny Awesome
[August 20th, 2072, 22:01; Balcony on the NeoNet Tower, Oxford]

"Of course everyone has an agenda, I merely meant you don't have one that dictates you stay here at this dull party"

Johnny peered down over the bancony edge at the city below. "There must be so many more interesting things going on down there".

"The way you speak intrigues me though, I've always enjoyed games. You can consider me a player." as he turns to head back into the party he looks back over his shoulder inviting Ryl to follow him. "And if you don't mind you can tell Browyn that I'd like to find out all about her agenda later. I've always had a weak spot for the Welsh"

[mister__joshua]

@Virtual Scream/Cipher
[September 2, 2072, 08:00; Ares Seattle General Hospital]

He was in the hospital now, but the images persisted. Maybe this wasn't a mere attack on his mind... was something reaching out to him? Some entity of the matrix demanding he pay attention?

He settled back down in the bed, closed his eyes, and tried this time to see the images, to let them flow over and through his conciousness, tried to see any recognisable features. A company logo? An address? A recognisable locale? Where were they coming from? He had to find out...

[phlapjack77]

@Virtual Scream / Dante, Dubstep, Cat
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: hidden, Response 1, Signal 3, System 2, Firewall 1

<<@Cat, Dubstep [Dante] : Yes, I have another plan. You two should keep your head down soon. Dubstep is earning his salary in this group, now I will earn mine.>>

This was stupid, even for the Jasons. Didn't they know this was Red Lotus territory? Something must be pushing them to take the risk. Dante prepares to find out what.

[Aria]

@Virtual Scream / Gossamer
[September 1, 2072, 12:22, Argent's ‘link node]
PAN: N/A, SIN: None, Response *, Signal *, System (5), Firewall (4), (Analyze, Scan, Decrypt, Exploit [5, inherent], Stealth [6, inherent], Armour, Browse, Encrypt, Medic [6, ergo, optzd])

<<@Slater[Gossamer]: I am content to stay in Argent’s link for now but if you will allow me a subscription to your link I can join you in your work without Argent needing to hang around in the basement. I am more than curious about the nature of the virus but I felt something akin to a siren call when I first encountered it and I would be reluctant to risk that again without knowing more. Perhaps if you can provide me with the code analysis that you have done so far I may be able to spot a pattern that might elude others. >>

And so saying she set to work analysing the myriad of streams of information flowing through the ‘trix on this virtual monster. As she did this she also reached out to the node of an exclusive retailer on the Main Place Arcade and with a spot of judicious editing of their delivery records convinced their server that an Emerging Futures Living Doll drone had been legally purchased and was to be sent to a family suite booked at the Bellevue Hilton. The fabrication was plausible enough, particularly once particulars of the family in question had been entered into the Hilton’s node, that the delivery shouldn’t be questioned, and if it ever was Gossamer made certain that she wiped out all traces of her digital fingerprints from the nodes she manipulated.

<<@Slater[Gossamer]: I have arranged for a suitable replacement body to be delivered to the Hilton. Perhaps you would go and pick it up for me? I would appreciate it if you erased any tags on the drone, I do not want to lead any traces back here to Argent. >>

She flagged the serial ID to Slater along with an AR representation of a pretty little girl in a party frock. Gisèle should have some more suitable attire but that could wait.

<<@Slater[Gossamer]: It may be useful to be seen as a child. I have observed that they are rarely noticed in day to day life…>>

[Aria]

@E:PL/Chi Town/Copperhead
[July 9th, 2072, 00:28; Housing Complex Cortland St, CZ, Chicago]

The paltry spider thing shivers under your blow and its legs curl in on itself as it drops towards the floor and begins to scurry away…you are surprised that a watcher can survive in this taint but this one seems to be managing it…your second blow catches it in the thorax and the pitiful creature is sent back to whatever metahell it was spawned in.

As you move cautiously into the building you feel the exultant cry of your spirit in your mind as it locates Snag somewhere above you…above…you look up into the ruins of the floors above you and catch a flash of movement as the rifle shot echoes around the space…

[Aria]

@E:CoP/Johnny Awesome
[August 20th, 2072, 22:01; Balcony on the NeoNet Tower, Oxford]

"And if you don't mind you can tell Browyn that I'd like to find out all about her agenda later. I've always had a weak spot for the Welsh"

Ryl frowns again, offset by a wry twist to her mouth "I don’t doubt you’ll meet Bronwyn later, that one has a way of doing what she will no matter what others may think. I’m afraid that I am not done with this party just yet…you have amusements to attend to no doubt but I have people to watch, conversations to join and perhaps some more little seeds to sow like the one here. You are welcome to join me if you wish or wait to see what delights and diversions others have to offer. You might profit from speaking with others here though, it is an interesting crowd that has gathered here once you weed out the sycophants, wasters and ner-do-wells. "

[ChromeZephyr]

@Virtual Scream, Alex Bianchi
September 2, 2072, 12:44; Not quite the Barrens
Renraku Sensei: Hidden | SIN: Jimmy Delfino (Fake ID, Rating 3) (Re 2 - Sig 4 - Fi 2 - Sys 2)

Alex looked at the text hanging in his vision for a second, then quickly typed back a message before dropping the 'link back in his pocket. <<@Harvey[Jimmy]: No, that'll just guarantee a firefight. And with three of them and you wanting Charlie back in one piece...gonna try something else. May end in a gun fight anyways, but fortune favors the bold, right? >>

He looked down at the drone. "Follow me. When I get to the door, stop next to me, but do not aim at the people who answer the door. Fire only if we are fired upon, gel rounds only orders are still active."

A deep breath. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Alex holstered the pistol, then walked purposefully to the door and knocked sharply.

[ChromeZephyr]

@E:Tribes, Scrapheap;
September 1, 2072 22:28 Approx 600m from the Fre∑dom Mall, Puyallup
PAN mode: Hidden | SIN displayed: Eric Jones

The scrap-armored sedan rattled closer to him, and finally a human shape appeared at the jury-rigged pintle mount. Well, almost appeared, as Scrapheap pulled the trigger at the first sign of movement. The ganger's shoulders had just cleared the hatch when the 400-grain slug blasted the top of his head into a fine mist, sending the body tumbling back into the car. Scrapheap worked the slide automatically, chambering the next shell as a burst of autofire behind him caught his attention.

He turned from the car and saw the rice-burner with two riders approaching rapidly, the boxy sub-machine gun in the pillion rider's hand chattering wildly. Can't have dem shootin' me in the ass...

His first shot missed badly, punching a hole in the crumbling brick of the shitty apartments behind the onrushing motorcycle. He snorted, then tried to lead his next shot more. The bike shuddered as the slug glanced off of it, and he could see the sudden panic on the face of the kid with the Uzi. It ain't the fall that kills ya...

The shotgun roared again, and this time he'd led it enough that the slug hit just below the arms holding the handlebars of the driver. The bike jinked wildly before flipping, the corpse of the operator skidding limply along the ground as the bike and it's other passenger took flight. The shooter flailed wildly and screamed, high and terrified, which ended abruptly as he impacted the side of another apartment. ..it's tha sudd'n stop at tha end. Scrapheap grinned as the body slowly scraped down the wall, brains and blood leaving a crimson trail behind it.

[onlyghostdancesw...]

@E:PL/UK
[May 21st, 2072, 10:35:21, NeoNet Zepplin bound for Exeter]

DeBathayre.... where have I heard that name before? Anselm wondered to himself as he read the luggage that was stored immediately before he boarded.

The shock of seeing lady deBathayre in person without a crowd of other sycophants nearly caused Anselm to drop dead of shock. His prior vague recollection came rapidly back into the foreground of his mind as he realized he had indeed met a DeBathayre at a conference many years ago; a conference led by his master and mentor Schwartzkopf, a conference which had been attended primarily by others who represented or served dragonkind.

There had been no other choice but to continue boarding the zeppelin and hope she did not recognize him or his identity; It all depended on how much interaction she had with other servants of Schwartzkopf and how important they, or rather he himself, were to her.... more particular interests. He had never believed in coincidence and most especially not in the Lord's caprice with his servants. Someone had arranged this then, but whom? She barely spared him a glance more or less than the rest of his entourage but that meant little or nothing. As highly placed as she is, I can only hope that I'm below her gaze. It wouldn't do for Celedyr or Rhonabwy, whichever one of the greats actually supported her employment, to think that his master had developed an interest in the heathen technomages and their ilk. Worse yet if they make a connection between Holy Church, my master and any purification plans...

Anselm had to control himself for the entire portion of the trip by pretending to meditate in the library, pouring over various real hardcopy books that were to be found in the generously appointed library. His eyes acted but did not take up the information his heart was racing so fast. He could only hope that his cover within covers within cover would shield any awkward questions.

Some time later he felt the zeppelin start to descend more from the change of engine noise as faint as it was as from the change in his ears. Slipping comfortably into astral sight he noticed that one portion of the viewport had not actually been warded as the rest of the conveyance had been, most probably local repair work that had been affected before the journey and had not been magically secured as yet. He quickly sent one of his watchers to a deaddrop for just this kind of emergency. Nothing was there but two statues, one phoenix and one a crucifix, both of alabaster stone. His message was two-fold.

//My lord it seems we have been compromised....//

The conversation lasted mere seconds as Anselm transferred his thoughts to his watcher and was relayed the response but seemed to take ages at the speeds that astral communication enabled.

[Machine Ghost]

@E:Tribes, Sprogget
September 1, 2072 22:28; Ambushed near the Fre∑dom Mall, Puyallup
Bionode: Response 4(5), Signal 2, System 4, Firewall 3; Hidden; Analyze(3), Command(1), Edit(1), Scan(1), Sniffer(3), Spoof(1), {s]Stealth(3)[/s], Shield(1), Tacsoft(2), Simrig(1)
CMT Clip: Response 1, Signal 3, System 1, Firewall 1; Hidden; SIN: Paul Brickhill (R3)

Having sent off the wakeup message, Sprogget prepares to cut the monocycle away from the on coming crotch rocket, aiming to take the Harley carrying the mage from the side as it clears the van.  With that locked in, he is still trying to watch all of the sensors at once, to track where the rest of the friendly and enemy resources are.  Something unexpected catches his eye on a rooftop accross the road.
@self:LeO?

A CD Owl drone is parked, apparently recharging using it's suncell.  It has a distinctive scratch along the near side, that looks a LOT like a drone that the Mechanicals previously modified for Fre∑dom.  Not one of the standard perimeter drones, that one had been configured for fairly quick response, to support the 'ground' forces.
@self:That sure looks like LeO, but he should be closer to home.  I wonder if he broke down, and had to park it quick?  Maybe the mess with virus confused things, and he just needed to park?
@self:I wonder if that old stealthed back door still exists?  A normal software backdoor would have never gotten past the Fre∑dom security scans, but they might not have noticed that the stealth tag can open a full admin acount through hardware access, bypassing the firewall.  He should still be on that special frequency.
@LeO Tag: <<LeO - O - LeO -- Open the door!{Sprogget ID}>>
@self:No time!

Banking the DR hard at the planned time, Sprogget discovers that the Harley was moving a bit faster than expected.  The intended ram catches the rear wheel of the Harley, but with no apparent damage.
@self:Slot it anyway!

Sensors show that LeFey's shot is on target, but no effect there either
@self:Drek, non conductive armor!
Tacsoft shows Scrapheap's target in the Americar taken out.
@self:Yes!  Way to Scrap the Scrap, Scrap!

Suddenly though, the Harley is right behind him.
@self:Wha??  He must have cut after me just as I hit him!
Before Sprogget can react, the mage swings that glowing fist, and he feels a blow in his back.  Several warning and damage indicators light up showing that a lot of damage made it through the armor, even though his own filters prevented it from reaching the meat.
@self:Ouch!  What has he got on that fist anyway? Poor DR is feeling hurt!

LeO:<<Ready, {Sprogget ID} logged in as admin.>>

@self:LeO!
Fisty can wait a sec here.
@LeO: <<Instructions:
Immediate high speed launch toward this location
Slave to {Sprogget ID}, joining tacnet
Assign current target priority: Mage on Harley {tacsoft marker}, East Racing Bike riders {tacsoft marker}, Armored Americar {tacsoft marker}, currently missing target 1 {tacsoft marker}
For the mage, try narrow long burst first, if that misses, try wide long burst
Take targets from Sprogget {Sprogget ID}, tacsoft priorities, other members of current tacsoft group
Report status and consumable levels
>>

@jailbreakers [Sprogget]: <<I've accessed an armed drone I know!  LeO {LeO connection ID} joining us from roof.>>

Sprogget logs off of the previously hacked node.
@self:If the trace is not done yet, then they can wonder where I was.  I'll take LeO!

@self:Now let's see if that drake knows how to drive that chopper.

Swerving left, slowing quickly, then accelerating back right, Sprogget cuts the Harley off.

[phlapjack77]

@Virtual Scream / Dante, Dubstep, Cat
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: hidden, Response 1, Signal 3, System 2, Firewall 1

Keeping most of his body perfectly still, Dante's eyes scan the crowd for faces of possible allies in the form of Red Lotus members. Meanwhile he slips his heavy pistol out of it's holster and holds it concealed down by his side, out of view. The safety controls on the magnetic system in his cyberarm take a momentary flicker of attention to turn off using DNI.

[Dakka Fiend]

@E:Tribes
Tweak
September 1, 2072 22:28 Ambushed near the Freedom Mall, Puyallup
[Inside the Van]
Novatech Airwave: Hidden, SIN: James Teems (fake R3)

The street in front of the van is clear, all the gangers are behind him, the van has only taken minor damage, nobody would stop him...

The hell I am!

The van's tires squeal as Tweak mentally slams the brakes, the vans comes to a stop and the tires squal even louder as the van accelerates again, heading back for the gangers and his friends.

Spring
September 1, 2072 22:28 Ambushed near the Freedom Mall, Puyallup
[On a scooter in the middle of the street]
Renraku Sensei: Hidden, SIN: Steven Brokvich (fake R3)

Gangers barrelling down at him, shooting at him - missing, for now -, the boy decides that the middle of the road most definitely is not the right place to be how about my shop instead? He steers his scooter to what's left of some building and starts looking for someplace safer.

[phlapjack77]

[quote name='phlapjack77' date='Mar 16 2013, 03:59 PM' post='1217137']
@Virtual Scream / Dante, Dubstep, Cat
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: hidden, Response 1, Signal 3, System 2, Firewall 1

<<@Cat, Dubstep [Dante] : When I signal on your commlink, you both should take cover. It will be very soon.>>

[JxJxA]

@E:PL/Chi Town/Gemeaux, Mordred & Tsubaki
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; East of the river, Clybourn Ave, CZ, Chicago]
PAN - Active ; SIN - Maximilien Danton

For someone who had grown up having to appreciate nature from the safe confines of the civilized world, Gemeaux sees the following set of weeks as a didactic experience as to why civilization is humanity's crowning achievement. Extreme weather? Dirt that gets in everything? Bugs that bite you when you least expect it? Gemeaux had lived a perfectly full life without having to endure any of these "natural phenomena", and he prays every day that he never has to suffer them again.

His mood gets a bit better upon arrival in Bristol, and improves exponentially once he is able to purchase more ammunition. This time, he purchases about as much as he can carry. If small corporate armies are going to cross them at every turn, then he would have the arsenal to fight them off.

Traveling across the Atlantic is another stretch of boredom. However, Gemeaux takes advantage of the downtime to freely smoke without having to worry about young Luc's developing lungs. He also takes the opportunity to improve his skills at lobbing grenade-like objects. He finds Luc a willing participant in this game, and the assassin whittles away the downtime by seeing who can toss the "ball" closest to the target.

All of that downtime is immediately wiped away once Gemeaux reaches Chicago. With autofire in the distance, he draws out Le Dernier Mot.

<<[Gemeaux]: Vivienne, the word is given.>>

<<[Vivenne]: Understood. Switching to your running name. Wires on and weapons free.>>

The chameleon coating on his suit, weapons, and newly purchased smartpack turn on. The assassin fades into the background, and cautiously approaches the sound of battle...

[onlyghostdancesw...]

@E:PL/UK
[May 21st, 2072, 15:52:41, NeoNet Zepplin bound for Exeter, ETA 16:00:00]

Anselm knew he'd have to just take the risk that he could patch things up with his bodyguard cum assassin and the rest of the group but he didn't feel that he had much choice. The extra attention the trip had garnered added weight to the idea that his presence was endangering the mission, a fact which he hoped his companions would give some thought when and if he could reunite with them.

The sight of Charlie's limo parked and waiting for him was a welcome one, despite the impending relational difficulties. As the zeppelin finished it's docking, he fingered the tiny bundle he had acquired as a remote hope against the future. Well at least this time I know I'm in trouble... He sighed in a resigned fashion which drew an inquisitive look from Mr. Collot but no comment, a slight mercy considering the circumstances. Gesturing for the rest of the party to wait he quickly walked up to the drivers window to see that it wasn't, as he had expected, his faithful driver Charlie but rather a snazzily dressed member of the cloth. This much was obvious by his dark black clothing and clerical collar, though the black lining gave Anselm cause for a moments pause.

"Good day Father, Charlie is temporarily unavailable so the Vicar sends his greetings and myself to serve you as you need in your work. The rest of your party is, unfortunately, not welcome to accompany you." Anselm's gorge rose as he was tempted to rebuke this mid-ranking servant of some obsolete and unimportant functionary of the church, but he remembered his place and his loyalties and so said nothing but to curtly nod and get into the vehicle.

[RdMarquis]

@E:Tribes
September 1, 2072 22:28 Approx 600m from the Fre∑dom Mall, Puyallup
SIN: Iwakura Lain, PAN: Passive

"Ow!" LeFey bounces off the other passenger and back into her seat. "Sorry. Ugh...sorry."

Now she regretted not having an regular gun. It figured that they decked out their magic user in nonconductive armor. Morgan hated to leave someone else to fight him, but there was nothing she could do with a taser. Speaking of which, with everything going on, she couldn't quite see all of the others. <<Hey, is everyone alright?>>

She decides to give Spring some cover as he retreats and fires two shots at one of the bikers.