Nothing's Free in the Free Zone (IC), Adventure 2: A Dish Best Served Cold Options

[Jack VII]

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:55 PM September 11, 2075

<< Noticing that Onyx had directly referenced Border Patrol informants, the ork figured they could stop beating around the bush. Jack's persona tilted his head and held up his hands. "Alright Onyx, since it looks like we've established that we're both who we say we are, let's just talk directly. To be honest, we'd really like to arrange to take our own vehicle into the CAS so that we can get to our target location. With that said, no matter how we get into the CAS, we want to set up another way out in case things get too hot.">>

<<Jack's persona glanced at his other two team members. Grease's persona appeared to have timed-out in the middle of slicking his hair back. The rigger was probably going to be less than pleased that Jack was being so direct, but the ork didn't care. They didn't have time for any of the fun and games with which the elf was so enamored. "To answer your questions... first, there are four of us: the largest is an ork. Second, we don't necessarily need to bring in much gear, we've got a couple of contacts in the CAS for that... but a few of us have restricted 'ware, our decker needs to bring their deck, and one of us is Awakened... and none of us have any CAS licenses. If bringing our own gear is an option, I wouldn't imagine anything heavier than an SMG. Finally, I think a private vehicle is a requirement. So what are our options, whether trying to go through the border semi-legally or avoiding security altogether?">>

[Lobo0705]

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:57 PM September 11, 2075

<<Onyx clicks the tips of his fingers together as Jack speaks, taking in the team's needs. He pauses a moment as several outlandishly dressed skeletons pass by, lost in conversation with one another. When they are around the corner, he speaks.

"I would highly caution against trying to cross the border with restricted 'ware without proper licenses. The border crossings do have millimeter-wave scanners, and even if you only have a few pieces of illegal cyber, it is a crapshoot, only this time if you crap out it is guards with automatic weapons rather than the croupier who takes what the house is owed."

He shakes his head. "Can any of you cross the border legally? If so, your best bet would be to drive the vehicle across the border. Failing that, I can smuggle it across, but that isn't quick. I'll have to arrange for a transport, and if your party is tonight, that just isn't going to happen. If neither of those will work for you, you still have a few options."

He stretches, which makes his obsidian stick-like limbs crackle and seem on the verge of breaking before he continues. "If you have a throwaway SIN, you can rent a car. You might have to burn the SIN afterward, but that could just be cost of doing business. Second, you can try and boost a car, but that's risky depending on how long you need it, since the Tin Men can track you. Lastly, maybe Chapel can put you in touch with someone who can get you something that will fit your needs."

His stretching finished, he steeples his fingers and leans forward. "To our business, however. Private vehicle for four passengers, minimal equipment, no questions asked, you are looking at 5,000 (IMG:style_emoticons/default/nuyen.gif) , each way. In both cases I'll need all of the money before you board the vehicle. If you want to hold a ride for later, I'll need 20% upfront, and that holds it for 24 hours. This fee is non-refundable, although if you avail yourselves of the transport within that 24 hour period, I'll deduct it from the cost. If the you are looking to shake pursuit, whether its from the Tin Men or someone else, there's an extra 1,000 added on top as a surcharge.">>

[Melpomene]

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:57 PM September 11, 2075

<<Mel sits, straightening her robes again.

"My apologies if I sound uninformed, because this is the first time I've dealt with your type of service. Is there any way of keeping the private car while we are in the zone? Your man gets us across, then finds something to do for a short while, then meets back up with us and we come back across.">>

[Lobo0705]

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:57 PM September 11, 2075

<<Onyx turns to Mel's avatar, peering as if to see behind the mask that hid her face. He laughs, the sound of which is like rocks sliding past one another.

"No apologies necessary. Just bear in mind that when I say "car", I don't mean automobile. I think that you would be slightly out of place if you were to try and drive the vehicle you will cross the border in around town." He chuckles again, "Private car - I like that.">>

[Jack VII]

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:57 PM September 11, 2075

<<If Jack's persona had a face, it would be frowning right now. The options Onyx was offering were far from ideal, but the ork figured they were probably the only ones they had. Thinking over what had been explained so far, he asked a follow-up question. "Just one thing... you mentioned we might have luck with one of our own crossing the border somewhat legally. Let's say that one of us did try to drive over but was caught with some kind of contraband. Do they just turn them away at the border or do the guards detain them? I'm not exactly clear on that...">>

[Lobo0705]

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:57 PM September 11, 2075

<<Onyx turns from Mel to Jack and says, "Had I known I was going to be teaching an undergraduate course in border crossing, I would have charged extra." Several crystals around Onyx's eye move together in an odd-shaped pattern, and it takes a moment to realize he is winking.

"Depends what you are trying to bring across 'mano. You get caught with illegal 'ware, you are looking at a bunch of paperwork at the very least, along with a hefty fine. Pay the fine, you get a black mark on your SIN and are denied access to the border. Try to plead not-guilty or not pay the fine... You are looking at jail time until you do. Now, I'm not an attorney, but those fines can run upwards of 50,000 (IMG:style_emoticons/default/nuyen.gif) per illegal item. Try and bring across weapons? You are looking at a month cooling your heels in some Tin Man facility at least.">>

[Jack VII]

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:58 PM September 11, 2075

Opening a message window, Jack sent a message to the team.

<<@Team [JustJack] Alright, it really sounds like trying to legally cross with what's available to us right now isn't going to work. Even so, do we want to run the risk of losing a vehicle on the other side of the border? With that said, this guy is charging a fortune! Anyone want to take a crack at talking him down? I figure we're going to need at least a grand or two to get our hands on wheels when we get to the other side>>

[DrZaius]

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:58 PM September 11, 2075

Cracking his knuckles in real life, Grease decided to take a stab at talking the Coyote down.

<<Grease's persona makes an odd gesture where he pushes away from the table, his hands held together like he's about to pray. His persona changes rapidly; first it is stone faced, and immediately after with no transition he is wearing an enormous grin, like the kind a child would wear for a family photo. "We.. transport... time.. critical..." He skips a bit, then loudly announces, "LOST CARRIER SIGNAL".

After falling asleep for a few long moments, he perks back up and looks around, putting the same fake smile back on. "Apologies- I've never been good with getting a signal on this thing. I bought it at Stuffer Shack, and it may have gotten some beer on it.

Melpomene's rolls her eyes behind her exquisitely detailed mask. Grease doesn't notice, it would be a surprise if his resolution was as good as "build-a-blocks" on other personas. He continues, oblivious to his terrible taste.

"I understand you have costs you need to maintain, and setting aside a private transport for our team has an opportunity cost if we choose not to use it. However, I'd ask that given we are likely to do this many times in the future, you may help us a little bit on price. I can gaurantee that if I find your service acceptable, I know many, many people in a similiar line of work I can point your way. Not to mention that I will avail myself of your services on numerous occasions. I'm not interested in shopping around, our mutual friend has vouched for you. With that in mind, I'd like to start building a professional relationship that would benefit us both. If you're able to help me tonight, I can promise that we'll keep your transports running on a regular basis. Nothing is more frustrating than having a slow night, and the more friends like us you have, the fewer of those you'll run into.">>

[Lobo0705]

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:58 PM September 11, 2075

<< Frowning Onyx rubs its eyes and shakes its head. "You have to get a better interface, You are giving me a headache looking at you." After hearing the proposal, it continues "I'm sorry, my friend, but my price is non-negotiable. While I certainly would appreciate the extra business, and I will endeavor to make your experience with my services the best possible, there are costs that I just can't cut down.

"However, given that nuyen is a concern, I have a counter-proposal for you. I have a competitor who is bringing something in to the CAS tomorrow night. He's been cutting in to my business, and as you'd imagine, I'd like to put a stop to that, if I could." He spreads his arms wide, "I know, I know, no honor among thieves, but a person has to eat, yes? At any rate, I happen to know the address of his private host where he keeps his business records. If you could crack it and find the information I'm looking for, I'd be willing to cut the price in half. Bear in mind that I wouldn't be surprised if you were to find some other paydata in his host, all of which would be yours to keep."

He steeples his fingers and lays itsjagged chin atop them. "What say you, are you interested?">>

[Melpomene]

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:58 PM September 11, 2075

<<Mel smiles underneath her mask.>>

Always something for something.

<<@Team [Melpomene] That shouldn't be a problem...sounds like a quick stealth-and-grab run. I'm down. >>

[Lobo0705]

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:58 PM September 11, 2075

<<Mel nods. "I'm in."

Onyx grins, "Excellent." It snaps its fingers and a glowing cube appears, which it passes over to Mel. As Mel takes the cube in her hands, it transforms, the sides elongating and thinning, the icon hovering in the air and transforming itself. As it undergoes its transformation, she reaches under her robes and pulls out a small box. Jack peers over her shoulder as she opens it, and inside are a series of Greek letters. She chooses one of them and removes it, the box vanishing as she closes it.

Holding the letter in the palm of her hand, it swells into a rectangular shape, taking on the color and features of a synthesizer. Mel beckons with her fingers, and Jack and Grease can see that the icon that Onyx had handed to her has now transformed itself into sheet music, and Mel begins a quick little harmony on her instrument, the notes leaving the page and streaming into the synthesizer itself. When the page is blank, both it and the musical instrument vanish.

"I've got the address of the host. Why don't you stay here and chat while I take care of this?" With a quick wave, she walks to one of the walls and goes directly through it, vanishing from sight.

"Well then," says Onyx, "I guess I might as well have a drink. Would you like one?"


Ares Global Grid, 6:59 PM September 11, 2075

<<Within seconds of exiting the Ascension Host, Mel's persona had arrived at her destination. He bothered to spring for a sculpted host, so he either has lots of money or just expensive tastes. The host appeared to be a racetrack, the crowd all computer generated 'bots, the entrance guarded by men in yellow jackets marked 'Security' Time to earn my money..>>

[Lobo0705]

Unknown Personal Host 6:59 PM September 11, 2075

<<Removing the box from her robe containing her instruments, she removes another letter, letting it grow until it takes the form of a viola. She begins to slowly pluck at the strings, making sure it is in tune, and then begins a soft, lilting lullabye. The notes travel the gap between Mel and the host and then return, the music imparting the information she requires. After a few seconds of playing, she ceases and waves away her instrument, floating across the space to the entrance to the racetrack.

Reaching the guards, she produces a lyre from under her robes, strumming it softly, "Hello gentlemen, I believe I am expected. The notes circle around the head of the security guards, and they both nod slowly, standing aside allowing her entrance.

When she gets inside she is almost run over by a car hurtling around the track, followed by a dozen others. She floats above the track, looking at the screaming fans in the stadium, impressed at the lavishness that went into the host's construction. She soon spots ways that corners were cut, noting that the crowd seems to only be about a dozen different people, each repeated hundreds of times.

Looking around, she sees that there are several icons visible. The concession stand is a virtual representation of the owner's kitchen, with icons for the coffee maker and refrigerator showing behind the counter. Near the front of the stands a huge private section is cordoned off. Floating over to it, she sees an icon for an expensive trid entertainment system, along with a heated couch.>>

[Lobo0705]

Unknown Personal Host, 7:00 PM September 11, 2075

<<Mel sent out a few more notes, the music forming a web-like structure radiating out from her body. Plucking at the various strings, she listened as the vibrations rang out in her ears. Nothing...nothing...nothing...that one! She lit out along the designated path, her white robes out of place among the crowd dressed primarily in cutoffs and flannel. Still, the 'bots inhabiting the host were simply for show, they didn't blink as she went past. What she had to worry about were security personnel, their digital forms an expression of Patrol IC.

The notes led her into the control tower, and she ascended the stairs until she reached a door. Testing the handle, she opened it carefully and stepped inside. She frowned. Clearly this coyote put more thought into his simulation than organization. Files lay everywhere, their icons represented as racing magazines thrown into piles around the room.

Summoning her synthesizer again, she began to play a fast-paced ditty, and the magazines rose into the air, twenty at a time, their pages flipping rapidly as if in a stiff breeze. One after another they fell to the ground and new ones rose to take their place, until a resounding note was struck, and all but one fell lifeless to the floor.

Gingerly examining the file, Mel felt something out of place, a discordant note among the rest. Looking more closely, she could see a bit of code that was different from the rest, primed to erase the data should it be opened without proper treatment. She whistled, and the code fell away from the file, now utterly harmless. Cracking her fingers, she went to work on the file itself, the encryption on it child's play to someone of her talents. Soon it was open, and she scanned the contents as she copied the information to her Tsurugi's storage.

||<<Ginger, I need to set up transit for two passengers tonight. Normal insertion through Castlewood. They are paying top dollar, so make sure to give them the deluxe treatment, and pick up a Mandarin 'soft, its the little touches that make our customers happy. I've attached the location and time of the meet and dropoff. I'll expect you later tonight>> ||File attached>>

Looking at the coordinates, the ARO denotes a meeting tonight at 2300 near Santa Clarity Valley, Cal Free State. Filing that information away, she hears noise outside the door, and slides underneath a desk. The door opens, and a security officer steps in, looks around, and then exits the room again. Feeling apprehensive, Mel attempts to see how closely GOD is watching her, but the music is too faint, she can't make out the notes clearly enough to interpret them.

Now, to see what else I can find in here. Cracking her knuckles, she got ready to play again.>>

[Lobo0705]

Unknown Personal Host, 7:04 PM September 11, 2075

<<Sighing in frustration at the disorder around her, Mel manages to find one file out of many that seem promising. Repeating her performance from before, she deftly disarms the Data Bomb and secures the information, downloading it storage. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, she jacks out, leaving GOD in the dust as she clears her persona of any traces of wrongdoing. Within seconds, she has jacked back in, zipping over to the Ascension host. Showing her pass to the watching IC, they allow her to remark the host and enter.>>

Ascension Host 7:04 PM September 11, 2075

<<Onyx, Grease, and Jack have been exchanging small talk for a few minutes, when Mel's avatar appears on the third floor. Holding a small data cube in her hand, she passes it to Onyx. "There you go, as requested." Onyx accepts the cube, scanning it for a moment before it disappears. "A fine job. Is the owner of this file aware of the theft?" When Mel confidently shakes her head, Onxy smiles. "Even better. Now, when did you want to cross over tonight, I have to make arrangements.">>

[Jack VII]

Ascension Host 7:04 PM September 11, 2075

Chica's got skills... Jack thought as Mel handed over the data, looking no worse for wear. He started to wonder about Overkill's abilities, but chalked up his less successful endeavors to bad luck.

<<"How soon can you have us across? Can we be in the CAS by 2100? We don't have much time to waste. Two hours should give us time to get our gear squared away and get to a meeting spot, assuming it's not out in the sticks. With that said, we need to get transportation in place in the CAS, so we may need our entry time to be able to slip somewhat depending on how quickly we can get a ride lined up over there." Jack's persona raised its arm and glanced at his bare wrist, as if an antique watch was strapped to it. As he spoke, he composed a message to the team.>>

<<@Team [JustJack] Does someone want to contact Stone in the CAS to see about setting up wheels for our little party?>>

[Lobo0705]

Ascension Host 7:04 PM September 11, 2075

<<"Transit time will be just over 30 minutes, assuming nothing goes wrong. If you want to be over by 2100, then we need to hurry, because I need to make a call. There is an old quarry east of the Aurora Reservoir." A brief flicker of movement and an ARO appears in Jack's HUD. "You'll be meeting my driver there. Be there at 2030, don't worry, you can't miss him." Onyx holds out is hand for the money transfer.>>

[Jack VII]

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 7:04 PM September 11, 2075

As the wait staff cleared off the table, Jack caught sight of the hostess eyeing their table, probably wondering when the frag they were going to leave. Pulling out the credstick that Chapel had provided to them, the ork slotted it into his commlink.

Ascension Host 7:04 PM September 11, 2075

<<Jack's persona nodded and clapped its hands together, a bright flash erupting from the collision. As the flash faded, a nuyen symbol with wings hovered in the air and flew over to Onyx, finally coming to rest in the persona's palm. As the icon slowly faded from view, Onyx nodded. "Remember 2030... don't be late.">>

<<@Team [JustJack] Alright folks, we've got to be at the Aurora Reservoir by 2030. Grab whatever gear you need and be ready to go. I figure Grease can get us there in time.>>

Jack cringed at the last sentence as he thought it, but figured sacrifices must be made.

[Melpomene]

Ascension Host 7:04 PM September 11, 2075

<<Mel straightened her dress again as she listened to Jack negotiate with Onyx. She was still riding the high of cutting into the target host and moving through it like a ghost. Part of her thought maybe it was going to be that easy...that somehow she had gotten that much better, but the rest of her thought that was bullshit.>>

There was skill, and there was luck. Probably equal amounts of both.

<<Best part though? Impressing her new comrades, and by extension, Chapel. After being out of action for so long, Mel wasn't 100% sure how good she still was.>>

Still fucking good.

Ah! The second file...

<<@Team [Melpomene] I was able to score a second file...might be good paydata, might be ASCII. When I figure it out, I'll let you all know.>>

<<She then received Jack's comm, and nodded, sliding into AR.>>

"Good doing business with you, Onyx. If you need any other work done, contact Chapel."


The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 7:04 PM September 11, 2075

Mel's eyes flit open, and immediately put away her deck, smiling at Jack.

"Thanks for the watch. I need to grab some gear...won't take me more than three minutes, as long as I can score a ride." Jack could almost feel the adrenaline oozing out of Mel's pores, and she slid out of the booth, stretching her muscles.

"Oh, and your Matrix persona looked good...if we make it home alive after tonight, I've got some suggests to make it a little more pro. Only if you want them, and you care. Not trying to impose my will or anything...just a few little things here or there."

And she smiled.

[Jack VII]

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 7:04 PM September 11, 2075

Jack had never really given much thought to his persona. He rarely did much work in the matrix where his icon was more than a bit of personal flair. All the same, he nodded. "I'd appreciate that, Mel. Good work, by the way, you seem like you know your way around the Matrix."

Mentally composing a message, he finished, "Let's see if Grease's loco taxi is available."

<<@Grease [JustJack] Hombre, we're finished up at McCormick's. By any chance, is your taxi available to swing us by our homes and then to the reservoir? Given the tight schedule, I'm not sure we can rely on another taxi service...>>

[DrZaius]

The Warrens en Route to UCAS Zone, 7:04 PM September 11, 2075

After dropping Smap off, Grease makes his way towards his apartment to change out of his nice suit after their meet with Chapel.

Money well spent- except it didn't do me a lick of good on the Matrix.

Getting Jack's text, Grease responds by taking his eyes off the road, trusting the pilot program to avoid any pesky pedestrians or vehicles.

<<@Jack [Grease]: No problem. I'm going to grab my gear, loop back around to grab Snap, then meet you there.>>

As he sent the message, a thought occurred to him. With their new plan to take a Coyote, there really was no reason he couldn't take at least one of his drones with him...

<<@Onyx [Grease]: Greetings. Would there be room in our transport for one more guest, of a robotic nature?>>

Knowing he didn't have much time, the elf sped up from reckless to insane, heading home to grab his stuff for hopefully a productive night.

[Jack VII]

Nic's Knacks, 7:40 PM, September 11, 2075

The ride had been the typically chaotic affair to which Jack was accustomed. Mel, on the other hand, looked like she wanted out as quickly as possible. Don't blame her, he thought as the cab arrived at Nic's Knacks. Opening the door of the cab, the ork said, "You're welcome to come in if you want, should only take me a few minutes." Mentally cycling the maglock on the front door, he hoped Nic wasn't trying one of those terrible molecular gastronomy recipes he had uncovered in an old paper book. For some reason, the troll thought he was something of a chef.

"Nic, this is Mel. Mel, this is Nic. I'm grabbing my gear, I've got a quick job this time. Should be back sometime tomorrow night. Sunday morning at the latest." The ork wanted to make sure he had given himself plenty of time to get back. Seeing the troll frown, Jack said, "Don't worry, the job's in a different sector, so we won't be hiding out here this time."

As the ork headed back into his bedroom, he could hear Nic say, "Hoi Mel, want to taste what I'm cooking? It's delicious and scientifically precise!"

Entering his small room, Jack sat on the edge of the two stacked mattresses that rested on the floor and pulled his gear out. Grabbing the duffel bag that formerly belonged to Truck, the ork started filling it with gear. Grabbing his Colt M23, he weighed the rifle in his hands. Without any kind of permit for the weapon, the ork worried that it would stand out a bit. Deciding not to take it with him, he instead unscrewed the suppressor from the barrel and removed both the low-light flashlight and the foregrip from the assault rifle. Taking out a small maintenance kit, Jack attached the flashlight and the foregrip to his HK-227 instead and dropped the weapon, the suppressor, and all of his loaded spare magazines into the bag. Rifling through the rest of the closet, he added his helmet, armored jacket, armored vest, forearm guards, gecko tape gloves, and a set of street clothes to the bag. Zipping it up, he returned to the main room.

Mel appeared to be entertaining Nic's offer to "just taste a little of it" when Jack grabbed her arm and guided her toward the door. "Thanks Nic, but we really are on a tight timeline. Leave a little in the fridge for me for when I get back."

Whispering as they walked out the door, Jack said, "Trust me, you owe me one..."

As they got back in the cab, the ork noticed that no one had yet contacted Stone. Or, if they had, they hadn't let the team know. Even if it risked appearing unprofessional, Jack decided to contact the fixer as they drove to wherever it was that Mel stayed.

<<@Stone | BCC: @Team [JustJack] Hoi Stone. The name's Jack. Chapel said you'd be a good person to speak with if my amigos and I ever had any work in the CAS. We scored a job there tonight and hoped we could meet up with you if you're available. One thing we're definitely going to need is some wheels and a tour guide. Not sure exactly what border crossing we're using yet, but can let you know if you're free.>>

GEAR

[ Spoiler ]

Streetline Special [APDS] w/Gecko Grip, Internal Smartgun, 1x Spare Mag [REG] & 1x Spare Mag [S&S] (W)
HK227 [REG] w/Foregrip, Improved Range Finder, Low-Light Flashlight, Sling, 2x Spare Mags [REG], 1x Spare Mag [APDS], & 1x Spare Mag [GEL] (W)
Suppressor (W)
Flash-Pak (W)
Zoe Executive Suite w/Concealable Holster (W)
Armor Jacket w/CP (2), FR (2), IS (2), NC (2) & Drag Handle
Forearm Guards
Armor Vest
Helmet w/Flare Compensation, Thermographic Vision, Vision Enhancement (1), Vision Magnification, & Ultrasound (2) (W)
Horn Rim Glasses w/Flare Comp, Image Link, Vision Enhancement (2) (W)
Earbuds w/Audio Enhancement (3) (W)
Hermes Ikon (5) [Browse & Signal Scrub] w/Subvocal Mic
Meta Link (1)
Gecko Tape Gloves (W)
Medkit (3) (3/3 Supplies) (W)
Trauma Patch (W)
4x Standard Credstick
Fake SIN (4) [Diego Sanchez]
Fake License (4) [Augmentations, Concealed Carry, Firearms]

Cyberware
Datajack [Alpha]
Handblade [Alpha]
Internal Air Tank (3) [Alpha] (W)
Muscle Replacement (2) [Alpha]
Skilljack (4) [Used] (W)
Skillwires (4) [Used] (W)
Skillsoft: [Automatics (4), Disguise (1), Diving (2), Free-Fall (1), Gymnastics (2), Navigation (2), Pilot Aircraft (1), Pilot Watercraft (1), Pistols (4), Running (3), Sneaking (4), Survival (2), Throwing Weapons (4), Tracking (2), Unarmed Combat (4)]
Smartlink [Alpha] (W)
Wired Reflexes (1) [Alpha] (W)

[Lobo0705]

Grease's Apartment 7:15 PM, September 11, 2075

As Grease hems and haws over which suit to bring tonight to the job, he gets the familiar buzzing in his ear indicating he had a new message.

<<@Grease [Onyx] As long as you don't try and bring along something ridiculous, like a Dalmatian or Steel Lynx, we should be fine. I'm going to have to charge you extra for the added weight though, space is at a premium. 50 (IMG:style_emoticons/default/nuyen.gif) for every 100 kilos you are dragging along. Space is at a premium, as is fuel. Just pay the driver when you get there.>>


En Route to Tempus Fugit, Aurora Warrens, 7:50 PM, September 11, 2075

Mel struggled mightily to keep her dinner from McCormick's down as the cab careened from side to side as it zipped through the traffic on the narrow Warrens' streets. And Grease gets paid to drive like this? she thought as one particularly sharp turn threw her bodily across the car into Jack. The ork smiled politely at her and just gritted his teeth, mumbling under his breath. Mel apologized again, as it seemed the cab continually took left turns at what seemed to be 80 kph, smashing her into Jack each time, and for some reason her seat belt wouldn't secure. Interestingly enough, whenever the cab made a right turn, it was smooth, and Jack stayed firmly planted in his seat - something Mel was grateful for, as he would have crushed her if they had swapped positions.

As Jack counted slowly backward from ten, his DNI routed a message to his optic nerve.

<<@Jack [Stone] G'evening son, Chapel told me y'all would be in touch. I'll be at South High School tonight, there's a football game, and my nephew is starting, I can't miss it. Unless you want to meet after the game, in which case we can make other arrangements. Depends on how much of a hurry y'all are in.>>

[Jack VII]

En Route to Tempus Fugit, Aurora Warrens, 7:50 PM, September 11, 2075

Jack couldn't help smile at the slice of Americana they were invading. Viernes Noches Luces...

<<@Stone | BCC: @Team [JustJack] We'd hate to interrupt your night, Stone. We can meet you after your sobrino wins. Our biggest problems is going to be getting around in your neck of the woods, so we may not even be able to meet you there if we wanted. The job requires a lot of gear and our ride is heading back to the UCAS after we get dropped off, so we're going to need to figure out transportation. If you can figure out a solution to that problema before we meet, I'm all ears.>>

[Lobo0705]

En Route to Tempus Fugit, Aurora Warrens, 7:50 PM, September 11, 2075

<<@Jack [Stone] That's a damn shame. Y'all be missing a great game, South is playing Mullen, and they hate each other. Both sides should have their blood up. Can you give me a heads up where y'all going to land? If you've got the 'yen, I can get you a driver for the night. Four people, right?>>

[Jack VII]

En Route to Tempus Fugit, Aurora Warrens, 7:50 PM, September 11, 2075

Jack already liked Stone. He seemed pretty down to earth. Then again, folks from the CAS seemed to have a prejudice against latinos due to the Aztlan connection. The ork hoped that wasn't the case here.

<<@Stone |BCC @Team [JustJack] Four is correct. I don't quite know which crossing we're using yet, if you know what I mean. When we get those details, we will pass them along. Be on the lookout for a message from Grease, one of the other members of the team.>>