Dis*, Dis*position Options

[JavaLamp]

In a small corner of a Bishop Industries' Neural Graft Research and Development compound:
January 4th, 2060, 11pm

Through unlit white halls a single corner office remains lit, dampened even a slight bit from the heaviest smells of the antiseptic-drenched building. A pair of voices fight through the door, down the hall, into the reception areas and all through the open doors with the practiced efficiency of a dance.

“And yet you still claim some sort of trending here? A third of these results claim you're wrong, A full third!”
“We see the same sort of harmonic results in type-D5 weave, TN2s and 3s, and M1 leaf between revisions e and g3-”
“False reasoning, you're picking only supporting tests. If there's some sort of harmonic to this, TN4, D5 leafing and composite-”

'Professor' Laruss and Director Smitt were at it like normal. Rusty was keeping busy by keeping other people busy, his high, flutey voice barely a counterpoint to the argument across the room. It did pierce when he wanted it to, that being anytime he wanted to act like a superior in case someone was watching, but now was not particularly one of those times. For their parts, Koda was stroking his pepper beard, paying attention to the rising tones across the room and putting away data chips, Joe looking like a deer in the headlights of Rusty's train of 'correction' and Krista, her eyes were flicking back and forth, ignoring everyone else and doing, presumably work.

See, that's where you came in... Sent out to retrieve parts from TS-B/7/29/59, though why they wanted a half-year-old prototype was any guess but it didn't seem like you were going to get any answers now.

The calloused hand felt like sandpaper cleanly wrapped the way around your neck, you're pretty sure you're developing some bruises on your neck and back from the troll lifting you up and putting you halfway into the drywall, but the gun barrel drilling into your temple is helping you forget them a little.

For that one final moment of normality, a picture of your life was framed by that door.. or at least what was becoming of it.

Two Orks run in and spray bullets into the ceiling, it never quiets down, but everyone shuts up as you're taken in.

“Kane Laruss'mIrite?” The troll roughs out from behind you “Yer comin' with us, rest a ya's too, s'longas ya dun make t'much ofa fuss. Anybuddy makes-”

Rusty's horrified expression turns vile and one of the orks turns a vicious looking SMG on him, all decorated with feathers and bits of hair. Blood blossoms from his chest and neck and your ears are ringing.

“Or dat” The troll finishes.

[TakayamaYuuko]

Bishop NGRD, halfway between the wall and the door
January 4th, 2060. 11pm.

As she struggled for breath with nostrils newly choked with a mixture of blood and gypsum dust, Mary Ward reflected on the following two things:

First, it simply would not do to puke on the troll.

Second, it also would not do to be too calm. Not that a certain degree of overt fear would be just *acting*. The process of corporate sponsorship negotiation had not been explained very clearly to her and this is not really how she expected it to go. Laruss had only given her the barest of hints after all, so being thrown about in this fashion just after the New Year caused her no end of surprise. Yes, she wouldn't have to go very far to make it look like a terrifying abduction because it really was one.

To this effect, she trembled and tried to keep her teeth firmly gritted together. She also reflexively tried to work her eyelids open. The bits of sheetrock were really making her tear up, so when Rusty was shot, the colors didn't quite look right to her. Her abs of course jerked slightly at the gunfire, making her clench eyelids and lips together again to fight down another wave eating its way from her stomach up her spine.

Rusty clearly hadn't even caught hints. She didn't like him, their work styles had always clashed and he clearly wasn't contributing actual talent to the project. Professor Laruss had always ignored him to the detriment of the team. She knew he wouldn't think twice about Rusty. But still, she considered herself human enough to feel sorry about it. This led to her third reflection, that it would not do to scream and protest about a poor sod who was already regrettably dead.

As she tried to work her left eye open again, Mary came to her fourth reflection. In the last ten seconds not only had the wave functions become impossibly tangled in her mind, she couldn't even tell if her numb fingers were still clutching any of the TS-B/7/29/59 inventory. The primary limb might have even suffered some damage. As outdated as it was, she had put so much care into its construction that it would be a great shame for the handiwork to suffer as much as her neck was right now.

[JavaLamp]

Bishop Industries NGRD office
11:03 PM

A few minutes of morbid interest locked the eyes of everyone in the room as Rusty struggled, collapsed... and finally expired... more than enough time for the two orks to circle around calmly one behind the professors the other behind Koda, Joe and Krista.
The troll yanks the pistol away from your head and starts letting down you down as he starts barking orders.
“Line up, less getcha outta here.” His hand shifts down to a solid grip on your shoulder.”Yous get to the truck” His hand tenses ever so slightly for a brief moment, a clear signal he's talking to you “Yer comin' with me” and he pulls you back from the door. “Yer comin' ta that storage room again.”

[TakayamaYuuko]

Bishop NGRD, turning away from the office

About face. Forward march. Actual order of feet isn't important, just make sure they alternate. No, you can't take two right steps between lefts. Keep head down but don't let it sway too much; the butterflies might get out.

Everything still seems a bit too white.

With a farmer blow and a quick swipe of the sleeve breathing becomes a little easier again. The troll gives a chuckle but with a jut of his muzzle reminds Mary not to slacken her pace.

In fifty paces and a couple lurching turns they arrive at the storage room and she keys it open. It occurs to her that she's taking it a bit too much on faith that they've come to retrieve something and not to have a quiet place for a messy execution. This hope seems to be borne out by the way the troll starts scanning the storage bays. While it's possible that he's looking for a specific inventory number or date, she guesses that he might be looking for something of a specific size or shape.

She nods towards a collection of small boxes nearby. "That's the latest iteration of our artificial reflex-overriding transmission system. It's going to nearly completely cut out the convulsive side-effects of your standard fly-by-wire..."

Her heart flounders like a fish full of shot pellets when she notices his eyes not on the little boxes but the big one. The really big one that could accommodate a grown adult. There's no way she can carry it. "Oh, that's nothing really, just a full-body cybershell. That would pretty much have to walk out of here on its own." She goes out on a limb and pushes a quivering smile out on her lips.

[JavaLamp]

Bishop Industries storage room
11:06

“Stay dere, I'm watchin'” The troll lets go of your shoulder.

Though he hasn't been looking at you, his handcannon's not left you out of its sights while he's working his way around the room clockwise. He pockets a few small boxes and vials almost randomly, thumbing some, turning a few over before dropping them or tossing them in a 'messenger' style bag. Somehow through the haze of gypsum, ache and fear, one of his choices sticks out to you: A tiny box labelled M-T/11/4/55, he doesn't look at it, turn it over or give any semblance of interest in it before shoving in his pack.

Then he eyes the big box once more... tosses a beeping shoebox sized satchel to the ground, grabs an armload of the smaller boxes indicated and turns to Mary. The grin might have seemed cheerful if it didn't seem so mechanical.

“Loading dock. Tha clock's tickin'.”

[TakayamaYuuko]

Bishop Storage, Shipping and Receiving
11:07

A sudden wave of regret washes over her. "You know, if you really want it, there's always the remote-control pallet..."

No, shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up. Loading dock, shipping, that's about forty seconds away. Which puts the timer anywhere from sixty to ninety seconds. And putting the shell in a van almost certainly means passengers get left behind.

Mary gets marching as ordered. She wishes deep in her heart that the shell would get up, rip out of the box and walk away. Alas, she knows it is not to be.

In the remaining thirty seconds she starts turning the little box over in her head. A little over four years ago, long before she came on full-time, what were they working on? She knew Laruss had forced Bishop out of zombie research after Aztech beat them to it. To this day he'd rant about what a dead end it was, a walking tomb steeped in primitivism. Some sort of soul anchor maybe, or something more practical. A CPU, a concealed weapon... While these ideas were still hitting each other around the head and shoulders the back of the van and the raised shutter came into sight.

[JavaLamp]

Bishop Industries Loading Dock
11:08 pm

Shutters wide, the Loading dock shows the small, off-white, panel van, already loaded with one of the orks and a human you hadn't seen before in the passenger and driver's seats, the back filled with the staff minus Rusty, all huddled with their hands on their head while the other ork stands over them with his festooned SMG. The van is clearly too full to fit even you, let alone the Troll and you both.

The troll rolls off his bundle of small boxes into the van and makes a circle in the air with his fist "Wrap it up an' go, I'm callin' my own ride, no room for us all." His rough, short laugh almost sounds like a cough.

The ork standing over the back shoulders his SMG, levelling it at Joe, who cringes and huddles even tighter into a ball, he's chanting something that can't quite be heard over the rumbling exhaust echoing in the dock, but the ork's words ring clear, "Like hell, Harl, That'll be minutes"

An explosion rocks the building, and klaxons start blowing.

"-drop a couple of the extras and you can get in."

[TakayamaYuuko]

Bishop Industries Loading Dock
11:08 pm

The glare of the lights against the van and walls creates a marked contrast against the dull brown night sky. Mary has to appreciate the irony of one sudden change.

Her color receptors have come back online.

Something about the ork's words hits her square in the gut in a way even his SMG hadn't. Extras. Laruss and Smitt were probably essential and Koda had enough tenure for them to think twice about rolling him out. That makes it a three-way between Joe, Krista, and her. And she was the last to arrive.

Her eyes fall to the cyberarm in her hands, which have somehow gotten calm and still. Yes, it's still there. Six months was enough to reduce it to betaware. Junk. She tosses it aside and it lands with a dull thunk. It was nothing compared with the fifty million nuyen of treasure they'd just blown up. Her work. No amount of antidepressants was going to hold that back.

The cold, wet wind rustles her auburn hair as she looks over at the troll. "Hey Harl. You got room for a hostage on your ride? I think I might've seen something in that bag that could buy you some time."

[JavaLamp]

Bishop Industries Loading Dock
11:09 pm

The ork stares at Mary, his smg coming away from his shoulder ever so slightly revealing just a little gap... just like the gap between his lips. He's not the only one, nearly everyone in sight has their eyes fixed on Mary, shock, surprise, amusement, and not a small amount of utter disbelief evident. The canvas breaks as a secondary explosion rattles the dock shutters after what felt like nearly a minute... it hadn't really been that long, had it? Something's hissing like a leaky gas pipe... but higher pitched, a couple of them, and coming from outside.

"I told you ta wrap't up and get gone!" Harl's evidently had enough waiting, "Kendall reactor labs- Scram!"

The ork breaks from his revel and slams one of the van's doors shut, shaking his head slowly. "One a these days you're gonna tell me how you pulled that off." The van starts pulling off as he slams the other door shut. The hissing almost sounds like whistling.. faintly, but growing louder.. it's so high pitched you wonder if anyone else is hearing it.

Harl hops down from the loading dock and starts at a jog away from the swiftly accelerating van, toward the inside of the block. "Change of plans, you can stay if you want, but I wouldn't want to be here when security reinforcements show up if i were you. Keep up if you want to get to your new employer."

The hissing whistle is almost paralyzing now.. Harl doesn't seem to be noticing it but it's almost impossible not to wince while hearing it.

[TakayamaYuuko]

Bishop Industries NGRD Compound
11:09 pm

Mary clamps her hands over her ears and sets off after Harl. She tries to throw a few words against the pointlessness, sure he won't hear her, before she's too out of breath and he's too far away. "You should've just said yes. Now I have to get there just to see what was in the box!"

It doesn't take a lot of calculating to see that the relative difference in their leg lengths has her at a disadvantage. She has to redouble her pace to hope to keep him in sight. This is making it hard to keep her hands up, not that it hasn't been a struggle even with them there. They reflexively come down so she can start pumping them...

[JavaLamp]

Bishop Industries Compound Grounds
11:09 pm

Gravel crunching beneath your feet sounds louder in your ears than it does than normal, or has that unbearable sound retreated some? You turn the corner following Harl and almost run face first into him standing with his shoulder to the side of one of the side doors of the building, it hides him from the street fairly well for someone of your size.. he's waiting.

"Good, you're coming. Decent time for whatever that running form was. Try to stay out of sight, we're waiting here for now."

The screeching whistle actually does seem to have subsided for the most part, or it seems so much further off than it was, it nestles softly inside your growing headache and throbbing temples. a fit like a missing piece from the puzzle of your pain.

For the moment, things seem quiet. Sirens blare and occasionally pass by the front of the building, none of them stopping.

"We've got maybe 1... one and a half minutes. Probably less, it's gonna be close. Security's inside the building already." You hear some automatic fire from inside the building followed by a muffled blast. Some of the facing of the building cracks off to sprinkle your head and shoulders.

[TakayamaYuuko]

Bishop Industries Compound Grounds
11:10 pm

Mary flattens herself up against the building, hoping it's as instructed. "What are they shooting at in there? We're all out already."

"Hey, you got any more bombs? Anything, even a little cranium bomb. Anything at all so if we get cornered, I can say 'he's strapped a bomb to my chest' and their sniffers will believe me." At what she assumes is his look of complete incredulity, she hastens to add, "If any of them know me, they might hesitate. The hostage angle is all I've been able to think up so far."

[JavaLamp]

Bishop Industries Compound Grounds
11:10 pm

"You're in shock, it happens often enough on extractions. It should pass once we get you back with your group, strapping explosives to yourself isn't a good idea anyway, we're in 'shoot first, fill in the blanks later' territory" you hear some gravel sliding under tires coming from the corner behind you and Harl strides out confidently. "Ride's here." You turn to look where he's going.. and there's a small flatbed truck sitting there with clear modifications to fit a troll in the driver's seat. Harl opens the door and reaches behind the seat to pull out two bundles of cloth. Overalls. He throws you one set.

"Put these on, we're getting out of here"

[TakayamaYuuko]

Bishop Industries Compound Grounds
11:10 pm

Despite how much the idea had appealed to her sense of the dramatic, Mary manages to keep her frown small and mostly disguised by the effort of forcing the coveralls over the clothing she's got on. She takes her coat off to zip up the torso and goes to get in the cab. She looks in wondering if it drove by autopilot or if there's a rigger along. Either way, if there's enough room she straps herself in, takes inventory of what she's got, and shuts off her commlink.

[JavaLamp]

Bishop Industries Compound Grounds
11:11 pm

You've barely had a chance to get in the front seat when the little truck starts backing up to turn around with Mary and Harl alone in the front seats. Harl reaches in his front pocket and pulls out a pair of foamy plugs and shoves them up his nose, he motions at Mary's overalls to a front pocket.

"You'll wand dat." He pulls out a bag full of clear fluid from his pocket.

He starts to tear open the baggie... even the barest whiff starts smelling like raw sewage before you can get the plugs in hand.

[TakayamaYuuko]

Bishop Industries Compound Grounds
11:11 pm

Despite the stress it's taken this evening, a large enough fraction of Mary's oversensitive olfactory nerves pick up the scent to remind her of how she felt about ten minutes ago. She quickly pinches the bridge of her nose, pulls out her own plugs, and works them into the nostrils. Then she clasps her hand over her mouth and tries to breathe through the gaps between her fingers as she clamps onto the armrest with the other to hold on for dear life.

[JavaLamp]

Bishop Industries Compound
11:12 pm

The truck accelerates again suddenly, kicking up a rain of gravel and dust and throwing both you and Harl against the thin padded canvas again.. a brief taste of the air forces hard, full coughing out.
The dock flies by, gunfire and explosions still audible from the building and you exit the compound.

---
An escape at surprisingly slow speeds, including being stopped.. and not questioned at a whiff. A scene I'll have to return to if I ever want it written.. pressing on in the interest of advancing the story....
---

A few miles away, at a hole in the wall squat
11:27 pm

Harl stands out of the vehicle, takes a deep breath in.. and ejects the noseplugs to the ground.

"That was close. We've got about 15 minutes, there's a hose in here to clean off." He waves his hand dismissively as Mary gets out of the truck and it peels out straight away. "You're almost done. Midnight's the handoff."

Harl steps inside the nearest door, grabs a hose, tweaks a pipe and water jets onto him as he peels off the overalls. Sopping wet, he hands Mary the water about a minute later.

[TakayamaYuuko]

In a Squat, Peeking up at a Spigot
11:29 pm

Mary gingerly works the plugs out of her nose, wincing a bit as a scab tears in the right nostril. Her head reels again as she gets a brief whiff of herself, so even though this isn't going to be very dignified, she steps in, holds the hose over her head and does her best to follow Harl's example. "I really... hope... this works..." she gasps out though the cold water splashing down her face and mouth. She presently tosses it down next to her overalls and trudges out shivering and trying to squeeze some of the water out of her clothes. What a way to face winter in Seattle.

[JavaLamp]

Squat
11:30 pm

Harl stretches out while squeezing excess water from most portions of his clothing, they remain damp for the most part, and a brief shiver is all you get recognizing the wet cold all around. It's been unseasonably warm for a winter, but it's a winter nonetheless. Though frost doesn't form much down in the city for all the pollution; you're all too aware of your clear, crisp puffs of breath. .Harl tosses you a ragged towel from under a pile of pvc pipe sections.. it's stained and streaked blue and stiff for it, but still a towel.

Harl sits on a half broken plastic crate and stares out the door with a brief sigh. "Almost there... almost there." He queues up an AR clock counting down to 11:45 clearly visible to you, pulls out his pistol and starts checking over it in a not particularly methodical way, but a way that's been done many, many times before. Measured hesitations, long stares... you wonder idly if he's looking at it at all.

[TakayamaYuuko]

Squat
11:31 pm

Mary sets to work trying crack the towel enough to make it workable again, then tries to soak the water out of her clothes. It's not long before she has to stop once in a while to squeeze the excess out of it. She soon concludes it's all she can do and is glad it's not anywhere near freezing.

She's all too aware of the handcannon and checks her jacket over again. She's got her commlink, glasses, earbuds, some tools and a flashlight... unfortunately no pistol. Her dispassionate side has to chide her for hoping it would materialize where it hadn't been before. She'd never even thought about taking it inside a secure facility past the checkpoint. She always checked it at the door and it was probably completely inoperable now. She squats by the pipes and rubs her hands, making sure to keep Harl's weapon in sight. Not much now to do but keep alert and wait.

[JavaLamp]

Squat
11:32 pm

*takk, shhhk, tak, SHHHHHHNK* The metal clicks, slides, and clanks arythmically, locking in place, suddenly releasing to slide back into place. *tikatak, shhhhk*

[TakayamaYuuko]

Squat
11:35

Mary doesn't squat very long before the clicks, clacks, and sliders from the gun get to her. She's driven to her feet and she paces a slow, quiet circle on her spot. It was now clear why she hadn't broken down yet. She got the sense Harl was still pretty nervous and it was keeping her ramped up, too. The problem was she didn't have a clear object to fear except him and that handcannon. Then what was he afraid of? Maybe being tracked from Bishop, the law, the handoff... or something she hasn't thought of yet.

She tries to work through a simple repetitive pattern in her head. About the best she can come up with is the connection and test sequence for the fingers of a hand.

[TakayamaYuuko]

Squat
11:36

And even that can't last too long, it's just not filling her head enough.

"Hey, um.... Say Harl, something bothering you? Do we need to keep an eye out for something? I don't think we were tracked, but..."

It's hard to say much. It's quiet here. It echoes ever so slightly.

[JavaLamp]

Squat
11:36 pm

There is a rush of motion as the gun's clip is smoothly set and Harl stands slowly with you in the handcannon's sights. His eyes are thin and harsh and the barest hints of teeth show through a gap in his lips. He stops at his full height before his eyes fully open again. He returns his gun hand to rest by his side and takes a slow breath as he eyes Mary up and down.

"Paranoia." He thrusts his gun in it's holster forcefully. "That's what's wrong, this whole run has been smooth. So something has to go wrong, It's not like I believe in some malevolent god who sits with his face hidden, grinning as he toys with our lives like some sort of game. More rationally I'd say security at your compound was too light. But even then I'm just grabbing at straws to justify paranoia. Thank whatever greater power you believe in that you're going back to your sheltered life after tonight."

Harl mutters something under his breath.

[TakayamaYuuko]

Squat
11:37

"Well," Mary begins, clammy hands clenching and unclenching as she tries to stare down the gun, "glad to see our basic relationship hasn't changed. I was getting too comfortable here in light of all that's happened. At least I've already lived nearly half an hour longer than I expected to."

She's quickly starting to fall back into the 'scared girl trying to keep a brave face' routine and keeps babbling on without regard to whether the gun comes down. "So, if we assume the worst, that this is all a trap, how should we approach the handoff? My improvised plans don't seem to be so well thought-through, after all."