As you can see, this is the IC thread. Use it for IC posts. If there is anything that I want just one character to know I will either PM their player or make a “Character” Only post with spoilers. For the sake of the game please do not read these spoilers unless they have your character’s name on them. Also, please disable signatures for your IC posts. Thanks. Anyway, let’s get it on!

Nuyen sure is fun to spend ain’t it? Spent it a little quicker than you meant to didn’t you? That’s ok, cuz now you’re the baddest fraggers on the block with the most SOTA weapons and most arctic spells. You’re ready to put all that new gear to the test and make a little more cred while you’re at it. This time it’ll be different. This time you’ll pull down the big bucks and you’ll be set for life, or at least until the next time your trigger finger gets itchy.

So the team’s back in the Emerald City. The same old Seattle that is all at once dreary and exciting. The daily rain has fallen and the puddles on the mean streets reflect the neon and the glare of the public trid screens. Your regular Seattle fixer got back to you in two days with a job that he guarantees is what you’re looking for: a chance to get back down south, a chance to really rock and roll with your brand new bang-bangs, and maybe get a tan in the process. It’s gonna be a little fun in the sun with a payoff that’s just what you need.

The Johnson set the place and time, but you’re familiar with the bar. “Nitti’s” used to be a classy place with a 1930s mobster motif a few decades back. Being on the edge of Pullayup has a way of driving property values way down. Now it’s a runner haunt and while your type doesn’t usually mingle with theirs, you don’t feel entirely out of place. You approve of the Johnson’s choice knowing that you’ll be able to get inside carrying just about anything short of a tactical nuke, so at least you wont have to get naked to meet the guy. But you know to be careful. Look at someone the wrong way and all that heavy artillery might unexpectedly go off, easy way to ruin the night. Time is set for 9:00 PM and it’s time to leave if you’re gonna make it. Probably a bright idea to make a decent first impression, the fixer said this guy had a hard on for professionalism…

Pliskin, walking to Nitti's around 8:45, makes a call to C.J.'s voice mail.

To: CJ

After finishing his call, he enters the bar.

To: GM

C.J. awakens early the day of the meeting to prepare. He starts with a little summoning, and then sits for lunch as the headache fades. Cale checks and rechecks his gear, cleans Jackson (his rifle) and finally prepares for the party. He dresses in camo pants with a tight pocketed vest and camo jacket. He pulls on shock gloves but leaves his rifle locked at the apartment. After a few other items are stowed in the vest and jacket, he makes his way by bus to Nitti's around 8:35.

C.J. walks through the bar entrance and checks out the surroundings. There are a few strange looks because of the obvious merc uniform, but no one seems to be that interested. He makes contact with the appropriate parties and joins the meeting. Checking his voicemail at 8:45 he nods in agreement while listening to the message. If he sees any team members he mentions that, "I'm here to represent Pliskin and me."

To: GM

One's choice of meeting spot was always a matter of establishing psychological dominance. So said Cryptic's instructors in the classroom of that strange little farm a few hours out of Atlanta. That gave him something to puzzle over as he took the metro to "Nitti's".

Whether that was true with the Seattle Runner scene, he didn't know, maybe it was just an indication of how bad ass they thought they were.

Cryptic, as he entered the bar, did not look "bad ass." a simple pair of carpenter work pants, largely covered by an unshapely black knit sweater gave him unassuming appearance. It also hid the Browning comfortably nestled in its holster. His first instinct, and rightfully so, was to scan the area...
Which he did, with a slow, and far from cursory glance. As he did, he scanned the electronic ether as well... If there was a set up, with any luck they were being stupid and chatty on their coms.

Cryptic stands back, until he's taken the whole room in... before he decides whether to approach or not.

Heather got the news of the new meet with major job oppritunities. One purportingly going to be a high payoff. That was good news, there was options in that news like fullfilling her plans in buying her own place and not worrying about paying rent anymore. Then after that work can be fun again. Not too fun though, Heather still had responsibilities all of them to her little boy. The days of charging maching gun nests, dragons, and those ghouls were long gun. Not was she was just content on fragging them with a rocket launcher but her little boy was worth the changes in her life. Now if she could only use a rocket launcher on his father...

The outfit selected tonight was your standard street wear but geared to impressing someone with higher then street level fashion tastes; A dark blue blouse and dress jeans, with her cowboy boots and hat. Over that went her Dragoons situated in the small of back at an angle so she could draw them with ease, and finally over that her weather beaten duster. She gave the image in the mirror once more look over before she deemed herself ready to go out tonight and play with the boys.

The last and most important thing Heather would do was say good-night to her boy and remind the nanny for the 'nth' time about the emergency numbers in the envelope by the trid-phone. Not the normal numbers you would expect for fire, police, or paramedics. These numbers were in case Heather didn't come back one day from a job or someone bad was looking for her. The nanny was paid well not to ditch her son in case of trouble and Heather had a hell of a time finding this one with enough common-sense. But it was worth it and hopefully, Heather prayed, she wouldn't ever need to use those numbers.

Heather felt the lurch of the tram as he it slide down. The Pulluyp, the bad part of town and where Nitti's was located for the meet with the Johnson. The other memebers of the team were each coming in on their own and she had no doubt they would be here on time. It wasn't hard to find the club with the mass of runners and their bikes loitering outside. Heather but up her toughwoman exterior and walked through the doors like she belonged there. She went about checking the crowd for her friends and anything else worthy of her attention.

to GM:

Snake Only


Apparently 9:00 is still a little early for “Nitti’s” usual crowd and business. As you walk in you get the impression that the place is only about half-full. All of the patrons are runner types, or at least wannabees.. From first glance you can see several examples of obvious cyberware and fetish festooned clothing. Most people take a moment to look you over when you walk in, then go back to their business. The bartender and waitresses give you a wide berth and when you call them over to order a drink, they seem cold, but they serve you adequately. The large ork working the door gives you a once-over glance but doesn’t do anything else as you walk past him and through the non-functional MAD scanner. Loud, but not blaring, music comes from speakers over the empty dance floor. It competes with noise from the trid over the bar and the clamor of small-talk. All-in-all, things are pretty much as you expected, but you definitely feel like you don’t belong. Pliskin is sitting at the bar nursing a drink, but it seems like he’d enjoy being left alone.

C.J. Only


Cryptic Only

Mace walks into Nitti's like he owns the place. He knew that some one in the joint would take offense at his bravado, it was almost inevitible, but that was one of the perks of being young and strong, with a heart full of fire and a willingness to kick in the gates of Hell and feed the Devil hot coals.

The club serves a bunch of shadowrunners, and wannabes. To Mace it feels like coming home, with everyone carrying heat and the paranoia levels ramped up somewhere near low orbit. He breezes past the big trog on bouncer duty, gives the place the once over, looking for C.J. or the rest of the team.

Spotting C.J. at a back table he janders over and takes a seat.

"What's up Bossman?"

Seeing the characteristic swagger of Mace when he walks into the bar, C.J. stands up to greet his teamate with a grin. "I see you're fashionably late as usual."

Cryptic Only

Looking at the crew assembled, Cale stands up and walks to the bar. He motions to the bartender, leans in and whispers, "I'm here for the 9 o'clock with Mr. Johnson," and waits for the reply.

Mace grins and checks over the team, none of whom really reacted to his entrance. They knew enough to know that while he could be something of a pain in the hoop when off duty, he steadied down when the drek hit the fan.

The Bossman got up and headed over to the bar to talk to the bartender, and Mace took the opportunity to slip into astral view to assense the scene.

Cryptic heard C.J as if he was a voice in his head... For some it might be distracting, but it was Cryptic's bread and butter.

C.J Only


Cryptic adjusted his stance, to keep a closer eye on the backroom, and continued to keep his eyes open.

Pliskin Only


C.J. Only



The bartender eyes C.J. for a moment and then gestures around the room. "As you can see, there's a lot of folks here waiting to meet Mr. Johnson. I ought to tell him who is here to see him then he can decide whether or not he wants to see you."


Cedric Only


A bigger than average norm strides up to Cedrics table almost immediately after C.J. leaves. He has two obvious cyberlegs and he makes sure that everyone gets a good look at one of them as he plants it on C.J.'s former chair. He leans over his raised knee and gives Cedric a hard stare.

"You're in my spot, chummer." Even though he is referring to Cedric with a friendly term, there is nothing warm about his voice...and there is no possible way to mistake his intentions as a cyber-holster pops out of the side of his thigh. He makes no move for the weapon, but continues to stare at Cedric.

C.J. frowns as he sees trouble brewing with his team, but turns back to the bartender, confident in his team's judgement and abilities.

Speaking confidently, "I'll be C.J. and my team is set to meet at 9:00 with Mr. Johnson, relay that please."

Heather saw the idiot make his way to Cedric. Look like of those guys that like stirring up trouble and probably figured Ced to be an easy mark. Too bad he thought that, and too bad they had original came here for a meeting tonight. Else wiping the floor with a hyped-up street-sam could be fun.

She makes her way over to Cedric, to let the big man know he's not alone. "Now Sugah, don't you get all wild up oveah this here chair. How about I buy ya a drink?"

She had her hands on her hips casually, close to the handles of her two favorite friends. Just in case...

Cryptic watched the scene expressionless, looking to see if the chrome-legged thug had any people preparing to back him up if it became a confrontation. And while he didn't doubt the team's ability to waste any of the assorted thugs in this rascal's den, this was definetely their turf, and only a real dumbass stuck his hand in the yellow jacket's hive and than bitched when he got stung. Everyone knew you dosed the little bastards in kerosene during their inactive cycle.

Keep your eyes open Frank.

The sammy eyes Heather up and down and there are a few long moments. Then the cyberholster slides back into his leg and he takes his foot off of the chair.

"Just get your biz done and get out. You guys don't own this place." With that he walks off. A pretty weak recovery in your eyes, but at least you didn't have to make a mess.



The bartender nods at C.J. "Thanks. Hang on a second." He reaches down behind the Bar where C.J. cannot see and makes motions like he is typing something. C.J. can hear the soft click-clack of a keyboard. After a moment he looks up.

"All right. Johnson's expecting you." He points towards the hallway at the back of the bar. First door on the left. If you hit the can, you've gone too far." With that he goes back to serving drinks and C.J. feels like he's been forgotten.

Mace's grin stretches from ear to ear, as the big cyber punk wanders away. He holds the mental patterns of the manabolt spell for an instant longer, enjoying the perfection of its flow and structure, then lets it fade away. He shoots Heather a big smile.

"Thanks H I appreciate the assistance. I'd hate to start a ruckus in here just because one of these losers was suffering from testosterone poisoning."

He refused to show the team the surge of pride he felt. No question they were a group of wild individuals, and could sometimes rub each other wrong, but when the drek hit the fan they were solid as a rock. The team pulled together seamlessly, all the parts working in unison to achieve the goal. It was that feeling of camaraderie that he loved the most, the knowledge that no matter how bad it got you would never face it alone, that had kept him working with military types rather than becoming a street runner.

Cryptic heard them get the okay to go through. He let out a team wide message:

Recommend Team Leader, Mace and myself progress to meet, with Snake and H watching the exit.

C.J. smiles as he remembers his military intelligence training, 'it's better to be forgotten then remembered.' He walks towards the back and responds subvocally to the team, "let's do it. Heather and Snake, 20 minutes pass, come get us."

He walks into the hallway, stops at the first door on the left, and stands to the side covering the others as they clear/check the room before entry.

Heather nodded to Mace while she watched the runner walk away. Good descisions like that was what kept a man alive in this world. She was also acknowledging C.J. calll. She moved to the bar to order a beer and watch the area where the two team memebers would decsend, while still watching the rest of the bar.

With twenty minutes to kill. Not looking up from his drink, Pliskin says to Heather," How's the kid?" He, himself, never had a childood to speak of, so he's always taken an passing intrest in the well being of Heather's son.

"He's sprountin' like a weed." Heather said, picking up the ordered beer. "Sure'n hope this job is well payin', Ah'm gettin' tired of panty-ante stuff we been doin'."

Sure Heather was concerned about money. Not for the ususual reasons, she always had other considerations since her abrupt departure from the CAS. A big payout meant she could seattle down for a little bit and actually watch her kid grow up.

"When you gonna settle down, hm?"

"... Maybe when I find something to live for. Right now, I just keep going because it's the only thing I know how to do, and there seems to be less a point to being dead." Pliskin takes another swig of his drink and changes the subject. "You think that puke you scared off is going to cause us any trouble later? Crumbs like him usually only get cybered to fit in with the crowd of equally stupid crumbs; could be making a possy for us right now."

"I reckin' he'll be back." Heather said. "Maybe we'll get lucky and walk outta' here without having ta shoot it out."

Heather took a bpull from the beer, "But mind ya, I'm never claimed to be one of those mediums, either."

Mace got up from his seat and shot Heather a wink and Pliskin a nod then headed off after C.J. He ramped back on his inclination to strut, unconsciously falling into a precise 18 inch step that was disturbingly similar to a march.

The back room was covered by the ward and while he figured he could punch through it if he had to, doing so would be an open declaration of war. Since he could do a recon he simply took up position behind the Boss to cover his back and mentally prepared himself to start slinging mana. If the everything went bad he'd be the heavy artillery in the room until the rest of the crew could extract them.

He could feel that part of him that urged him to fight stirring inside. It was that same lust that'd gotten him into fights in school, even fights he couldn't win he'd fight simply because it wasn't his way to back off. He'd been offered a half dozen easy corporate jobs coming out of high school but he'd never even considered them, heading for a recruiting office the day he turned eighteen. Always it was like this, all his cool intelligence and training playing second seat to that jumping urge to fight, and when he was honest with himself not even he was sure which would rule the day on at any given moment.

He followed C.J. towards that small back room ready to do his part if anything went wrong, and something inside his head hoped it would.

Snake Only



Cryptic Only



Cryptic, C.J., and Mace Only

Mace waits until the Boss take his seat and then takes a chair to his left and declines the offered drink. As they sit he slips his perceptions into the astral and scrutinizes Mr. Johnson's aura.

Cryptic shook his head without a word, declining a beverage, and than takes a seat closest to the wall. As he waits for information to start flowing he thinks about that room with the jammer. If he kicked up the ECCM on his headware he might be able to break through and get a gander at whatever was back there. But if it was noticed... well, that wouldn't be the sort of thing which encouraged employee/employer relationships. Need to know... and all that. Cryptic looked at Mace and wondered what the mage was doing... No doubt gathering information in some witchcrafty way... Cryptic didn't like spellslingers, but Mace pulled his own weight, so he was alright as far as awakened went.

Figuring he too ought to pull his own weight, He prepped his recorder to take down everything the Johnson said.. Just in case it every became useful later.

C.J. walks quickly into the room, snaps a quick salute and answers, "Sir, glad to be here." He drops the salute, waves away the drink offer and stiffly takes a seat across from the Johnson. With Cryptic and Mace coving him, C.J. keeps his eyes on their employer and reads his body language and facial expressions. Anyone can lie with words, but it's harder to hide subconscious clues.

Johnson nods at C.J.'s salute. He seems slightly amused by it.

After the three are seated he frowns slightly, "Aren't there supposed to be five of you?"

C.J. smiles disarmingly, "of course there are, but some of us just don't like meetings. The other two have asked me to speak on their behalf.

"So, what can we do for you?"

Mace Only


"Ah, I understand exactly what you mean," the Johnson says to C.J. "I was just concerned because the mission I have planned will require a team of more than three. I had been hoping for around eight, but you all came highly recommended. Now, let's get down to business."

He assumes a more comfortable position and takes a drink from his glass of amber fluid. After clearing his throat, he continues. "I am afraid that I will have to be fairly vague in my initial description of the operation. Security reasons and all that, I hope you understand."

After receiving a nod from C.J., the Johnson begins his briefing. "An object that your possible employer would like to have has fallen into the hands of a certain corporation. The object has been moved out of the reach of regular assets and that is why I have been charged with contacting professionals such as yourself. Should you accept employment your mission would be to retrieve the object and return it to the ones who desire it, as well as cause the destruction of some of the target corporation's material and personelle.

"The operation will require that you leave Seattle for an area far to the south and east. Transportation will be provided by your prospective employer and myself. Your team has been contacted because it has a reputation for tackling hardened targets. And this target is definitely considered milspec in nature. This will be no walk in the park. You will be disconnected from tactical and logistical support for an extended period of time and you will be surrounded by hostiles who will shoot on site. But I can promise that you will be handily rewarded for success in this effort.

"I am afraid that is all the detail I can come forward with at this juncture. Any questions for clarification?"

C.J. mulls over the given scenario and then speaks, "it seems you can't release any details until we have agreed to take the mission. On our side, we can't take the mission until the cost is evaluated. To evaluate the cost, we need to know more details."

To Cryptic and Mace

Cale pauses, slaps his hand softly on the table and and gestures towards the Johnson, "for example, how large is the targeted facility, what kind and level of defenses do they employ, terrain, timeframe, etc... Think about it this way, if we agree to run this mission for 5K each, and it turns out we are running against 3 great dragons and the objective is to steal some demon crystal from hell, it probably wouldn't be worth it." He puts his hands in his lap and leans back, staring at the Johnson from across the table.

C.J. quickly continues, "so don't get me wrong, I bet this mission is doable and well suited to our abilities, otherwise we wouldn't have been contacted. So, will we get this information and determine cost here or be changing locations to talk with the employer?

The Johnson waits as C.J. speaks his piece then grins slightly and removes his shades. He has dark brown eyes, almost black.

"Good," he says, "You're confident, I like that. Now that you seem interested enough, I can go into further detail. You seem capable of making a professional commitment and carrying through on that. Believe me if you had not given the right response to that horrendously shallow description I would have asked you to leave.

"Now, the information I am about to share with you is highly confidential and I would like your permission to activate a communications jamming device before I continue."

Mace grins at the Johnson, then leans over and whispers in the Bossman's ear.

"Mundane, minor cyberware, primarily headware, threat level minimal."

Hoping that the Johnson thought he was commenting on the request to activate the jamming equipment rather than delivering a report the young Elven mage leaned back in his seat and watched the Johnson's aura, hoping to detect any hints of dishonesty.

C.J. whispers back to Mace, "understood."

He takes a quick glance at Cryptic, waiting for the quick head nod that this is so far legit. He then turns back to the Johnson and responds, "that is acceptable."

CJ Only



Cryptic nodded thoughtfully. He liked what he heard so far. The only part that was troubling him was the transportation arrangements. relaying on the employer for transportation in and out was a dicey proposition. He would recommend some emergency plans when the meeting got out.

"Thank you," the Johnson says as he places an electronic device on the table and activates it. "Now I feel that I can tell you a good deal more about the job.

"A meteor has crashed to earth. It is small, about the size of a baseball, but it's got the corps buzzing. One corp has it and another corp wants it back, that corp wants to hire you. We know that it has been re-located to an island research facility. It is heavily guarded and the island is also home to a training facility for the corp's security forces. Getting there will require a plane flight and an insertion via water. To get out you will have to disable the island's anti-air defense.

"Your objective will be to recover the meteor and any materials related to its research. You are also required to kill any research scientists involved in the meteor's study. The job pays 350,000 "

Cryptic looked at the Johnson curiously. He found it highly difficult to believe that one corp was willing to expend just under 400k to get ahold of a rock. He looked over at CJ and Mace. It sounded like a hell of a risk, but the money made it enticing.

"The meteor has no notable properties? Toxic or radioactive or something to that effect." he asks.

Mace did his level best to keep his face a blank, watching the Johnson's aura as he delivered his spiel. Everything looked on the up-and-up about this deal, the fragger was serious.

An island, that'll be loads of fun. It means we'll have to boost our own ride out once we're on site. It means we get to plan our insertion but the extraction is going to be a total blank until we're on site. A security training facility on site, that means they'll have lots and lots of bodies to bring to the party. This could be interesting in the extreme.

Of course, the young mage thought to himself, if the mission were easy they wouldn't need to hire anyone as good as us.

He let a grin stretch across his face, this definitely was going to be a party.

The Johnson focuses on Cryptic, "All I can say right now is that the respective corporations' magical research departments are drekking their pants at the mere mention of the thing."

Mace had to run a hand quickly across his chin and lips, just to be sure.

Nope, no drool showing. Good, never let them see you want something they have.

This little doo-dade had a significant magical value. That made for all sorts of cool possibilities. It also meant there would be all kinds of security. Mace could feel his heart rate beginning to pick up, he loved a challenge.

C.J. jumps into the conversation, "do you have copies of the Island Facility blueprints and troop defense information, or will we have to research that ourselves? Secondly, after we disable the air defense system, will you be sending pickup or will we have to supply that from onscene resources?"

He knows there are other questions to be asked on a mission this big, but they can wait. Cale's more interested in driving the price up, but he'll wait and see what kind of defenses are in place before negotiating.

Fragging mages Cryptic thought to himself. Magical Research meant magical defenses. Mages, awakened critters who knows what else. Nothing sucked quite as hard as getting lit up with automatic weapons fire because some bastard saw your aura, despite your well enforced camo-discipline. With any luck Mace was up to the challenge.

"I expect to have detailed information on the island in my hands very shortly. Should you take the job, the information will, of course, be available to you." The Johnson pauses to take a drink. "Transportation will be provided to and from. But, as I said, you will have to clear the way for extraction."

"Do you have any more questions or can I ask if you are ready to make a decision?"

C.J. grins, "unless my teamates have something to say on the contrary, we will take the job. However, there is one condition. He pauses, looks straight at the Johnson to emphasize this point. "If the detailed information demonstrates that this job is undoable by my team, we have the option to walk away at that point."

Cale looks at Mace and Cryptic in turn, then back at the J for his response.

Mace simply kept quiet, letting the Bossman lay it on the line for Mr. Johnson. C.J. always remembered to take care of the team, which was why the team still stayed together, and taking care of the team sometimes meant telling the Johnson where the line was.

Cryptic watched on, expressionless. Time to start packing the bags, maybe update a will. Cryptic made a mental note to do that when he got back to his place.

Better safe than sorry.

"Agreed, C.J." says the Johnson.

He deactivates the jamming device and returns it to a pocket on the inside of his coat. Then he taps a few buttons on his wrist phone. "Let's see if that information has arrived."

After whoever he is calling picks up he says, "Are they here?" pause, "Good send them back."

If you gentlemen will excuse me," he says after disconnecting his phone call, "I would prefer it if you not say anything while I meet with these people. It will be quick and the information they gathered will be very helpful."


Snake and Heather Only

Heather was still working on her first beer paying the three newcomers special attention. Yep, they seemed to either got a flat tire in the wrong part of town or they just got out of alot of trouble. Heath thought she should put maybe in that equation and hopped no-one the trio pissed off shows up. She spoke lightly as the noise in her head disappeared and the runners went into the back room where her comrades disappeared.

"Well, well, looks like that thar meetin' is gettin' a little more interestin'."