Los Locos' Basement, The Barrio

Friday 08/15/70 12:34:06


Without even wanting to, Jack moved into the room, stopping between Carla and the corpse of the dishonorable street samurai. He spoke words Jack would never have spoken in a manner Jack would never speak.

At least I ain't spoutin dat aztec drek no more. Maybe da doc is onto to something. Maybe she can talk to dis thing and get it outta me. I hope so. I been puttin my butt on da line ever since I met these people and look where it's gotten me, shot ta hell and now fraggin posessed by some creepy spirit. All because she said to get rid a da sharp objects. Dis thing probly don't even know about all da lethal things in dat bag a climbing gear, ya know? Damn you're stupid Jack.

Los Locos' Basement, The Barrio
Friday 08/15/70 12:34:14


Resigned to the fact that he had no control over his fate, Jack relaxed his mind and let it drift. His entire destiny was now controlled by an evil aztec spirit and three shadowrunners he barely new.

So much for being bored all day. Maybe dat woulda been better, ya know.

He relaxed and drifted into a sort of daydream, which wasn't easy since the shedim had his eyes looking all over the room.

He remembered his first days working for Mr. J, watching an argument between Mr. J and Combat Instructor Yu.

"I understand you have a progress report for me Instructor Yu?"

"Yes Mr. Johnson. The ork is not a suitable candidate to replace Hiro."

"Why not?"

"He cannot pilot ground vehicles."

"What? All ground vehicles?"

"Yes Mr. Johnson," Yu said with a self satisfied smirk, "He cannot even drive a golf cart with any measure of skill. The only way he can pilot a vehicle is if the vehicle's pilot program drives for him. I would direct your attention to the motorcycle."

Mr. Johnson looked at the totalled red and black Suzuki Mirage.

"My God, how did he survive?"

"Easily sir, the bike was only travelling 10 KPH at the moment it fell over."

"Then how did the bike become so damaged?"

"After he crashed it, the ork stood up, pulled out his retractable baton, and proceeded to beat the bike while yelling, 'I hate fraggin bikes,' at the top of his lungs until I and three students pulled him away from the wreck."

"Well everyone has bad days Instructor Yu."

"Mr. Johnson, we expect damaged equipment as part of our training, but willful destruction of a 6,500 motorcycle is not acceptable."

"I am not hiring him to be my driver. Gertz and Reginald serve that function quite well."

"Mr. Johnson, I must remind you that company policy states all bodyguards must have at least mimimal skills in piloting vehicles, in case they are required to step into the role."

"Instructor Yu, company policy also states that arms and munitions from company armories are only to be used by company assets either acknowledged or deniable. I would hardly call your radical pro-human associates assets of either sort. I suggest you complete Mr. Robustus' training or expect an audit before the end of the week."

"As you wish Mr. Johnson. It is your game to play.

"And I play it well with many untraceable, deniable assets Instructor Yu. I expect your best effort in Mr. Robustus' martial and athletics training. My life and yours may well depend on it."

With that Mr. Johnson left the training facility.

Instructor Yu turned his attention to Jack. "What are you looking at ork? Get your worthless, sub-human ass on the deck and give me fifty push-ups. You've no right to be listening in on conversations between your betters. If I had my way you'd be on a slow boat to the Phillipines, where you belong."

Jack dropped prone and began counting out his push-ups, "One, two, three, four...."

"Shut up, you evolutionary throwback," Intructor Yu yelled, "I'll do the counting here."

I made it through two months of dat drek. Guess I'll make through dis too. I'm Jack Robustus. I'm Jack Robustus. I'm Jack Robustus. I'm Jack Robustus....

Los Locos' Basement, The Barrio
Friday 08/15/70 12:34:10

Carla was starting to wish that Naguel's head hadn't been half-mutilated. At least she might have convinced the demon to speak to her via a restrained corpse.

Looking back over to the corpse, Carla noted the focus the eyes continued to keep on the poor ork. Nearby was Krait, who still seemed to be plugged into cyberspace. When was he going to get back?

"Very well," Carla consented, "but two conditions: first, that one goes no where," she pointed over to Krait "His mind is elsewhere - he will not hear a thing. Second, you stay where you are. If you so much as take a step, I will call in my friend and our conversation will be over. Understood?"

Carla wasn't very good at playing to role of a confident, assertive type of person. She wondered if the shedim was secretly laughing at her attempts to appear authoritative.

Los Locos' Basement, The Barrio
Friday 08/15/70 12:34:10

Conall suddently grew aware of how tiny the room actually was. Still well in front of Carla, effectively guarding her against the possessed ork, it had taken some time for the young shaman to take it all in. As soon as he had guessed at the presence of the extra planar threat, he had mostly forgotten to keep his options open.

When the ork had moved, he had instinctively back up toward his employer, trying to give himself some room to maneuver.... but in doing so, had put the chained up corpse out of his reach.

The young elf felt his jaw twitch when Carla began issuing her orders.

"Sorry mam', but I can't do that." said the shaman through clentched theeth.

His eyes had become two tiny slits, and his features hard and tensed.

"No truth had ever come forth from a hell spawn's mouth."

Some of Conall's knuckles popped loudly as he clenched his fists.

"If ye all hail from the same plane," started the young shaman at the shedim's intention "then ye know who I am and what I am capable of. I've slain many of your brothers, and I can do the same to you."

Los Locos' Basement, The Barrio
Friday 08/15/70 12:34:13

Once again the corpse gouted blood and bits of flesh in its macabre travesty of laughter. The droplets froze solid in midair, clattering and shattering when they hit the icy floor.

Not my brothers, cabron, my slaves. You will find me a more potent adversary.

And then the merciless chill of the room stabbed into every still-beating heart, igniting frigid waves of panic.

In front of Los Locos´ Basement, The Barrio, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Friday 08/15/70 12:33:17
Krait – Virtual Free Diving
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 1), Moai offline

The Metalink´s icon looked like a cheap off-the-shelf OS default, but John´s top of the line Analyze utility had betrayed the target comlink´s pimped out system and defences to him on first glance. It had taken him half of the night, to dig a tunnel in there and the whole morning to prepaire a backdoor into the other comlink. Now the Hispanic corpse had been reanimated and all hell could break loose any moment. The paranoid elf didn´t even ask himself if that was a coincidence. He did not have much time to think, anyway, even though the camera-sensor´s vid-feed in the corner of his array of screens and his cyberear´s distant sounding audio seemed like slow motion, as he had emersed himself fully into the virtual world. He was only glad that he had bond the body, though he wished the shirt he had taped around it´s gory head had not somehow fallen off. All of this should not his concern at the moment, though, as he had to concentrate on finishing this hack as fast as possible. He imagined taking in a deep breath and aimed his Agent at analyzing the node once more.

No alert, no databomb. He pushed a particular spot at the base of the white pyramid icon and a narrow passage through the layer of protective shell opened for him. Who ever had programmed this custom piece of software had left this trap-door uncovered on purpose, though it had taken John six hours to find it. Once he had stepped in, the metaphor was exactly the same, only in reverse, he was looking at the inside of an empty, featureless, white pyramid. Well, almost empty, except for a beautiful woman sitting on a plain chair in the middle of it and tapping her ultra-realistic stilettos on the floor in bored annoyance.

The technician tensed a bit, as his own expert-program highlighted the woman as another powerful agent active in the node, but he relaxed again, when the critter displayed apparent ignorance of his presence and there was no alert or other users detectable. He quickly searched the node, but found all the files, even user accounts and logs to be erased. It was no problem at all to integrate two new hidden backdoor-accounts with admin privileges. The only device connected to the com was the latino´s datajack, which seemed to function as a dead-man´s-trigger to shut down the link in the event that it stopped sending it´s owner´s brain-wave-patterns to an integrated biometric reader. The way the node looked, and even more so the way the hispanic´s head looked, this flat-line routine had already been played through. The only thing not quiet fitting into this theory, was the idle agent.

While John learned all this, the scenery around his physical body, that had started with an animated corpse, spun out into a trideo mystery show, complete with possessed orks speaking in tongues and all. The elven mook-jockey listened, wary for an eventual outbreak of violence, but didn´t stop in his work. He analyzed the linked datajack and got ready to hack into the dead man´s cyberware.

Los Locos' Basement, The Barrio
Friday 08/15/70 12:34:14

Sensing that the shit was about to hit the fan, Krait hurriedly established backdoors in the corpse's cyberware and downloaded a listing of all its specs. Then he helped himself to the Hispanic's activesofts, slotting the one that would enable him to wield the monowhip he'd secreted under the pillow where his head was resting.

By this point, he was cold - even the numbing distraction of VR immersion could no longer allow him to ignore the way the sweat on his skin was freezing into a sheen of crystal. And Paddy's voice had taken on a hard, defiant tone that let the ex-lawyer know that now was no time to be out of control of his body. Coming back to his meat consciousness, he slipped a hand under the pillow, where the activesoft moved his fingers automatically into the proper grip on the handle. Then, slitting his eyes, he saw corpse look at the door to the basement - and it slammed shut as if with a life of its own. An unnatural wave of terror washed over him, which his analytical mind strove to reject.

Then he saw the corpse look back at the ork, who started moving towards the boss.

Los Locos' Basement, The Barrio
Friday 08/15/70 12:34:14

Shit, shit shit! Carla thought to herself. Goddamn it, Paddy - now we may end up killing this guy anyway!

Los Locos' Basement, The Barrio
Friday 08/15/70 12:34:14

Suddenly Jack felt free of the spirit but it was still telling him what to do and what it told him to do was pummel or strangle the doctor.

"Run Doc!" Jack yelled as loudly as he could, all the while lacing his fists together, crouching, and making a star trek style swing toward Carla's midsection. On a dry surface he would have connected and sent her flying across the room, but the floor was slick and he stumbled, falling flat on his face.

Serves da dumb ass spirit right, makin' it too slick for me ta do his dirty work Jack thought.

Then the magic slinging elf was on his back trying to hold him down.

Fool, I'll crush him first den nobody can stop me from beating da doc to a pulp. He wondered then how much of is mind was still his own, he certainly didn't hate the elf but he felt compelled to remove him from the fight.

He heaved once but the elf managed to hold him down. Then compelled by the evil spirit, he heaved again and was back on his feet to rain body blows on Paddy.

In front of Los Locos´ Basement, The Barrio, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Friday 08/15/70 12:34:16
Krait – detaching limbs with a fullerene tube
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 1), Moai offline

When the soothing detachment of virtual reality left him to his unmodified physical perception, John wanted nothing but run. Run away from everything, run as far as his legs would carry him, but they wouldn´t carry him at all. His body was frozen stiff to the core and it wouldn´t move at all. For a moment that felt like minutes he lay still without even taking a breath. He imagined he was someone else, witnessing the scenery through a simrig. The cold can´t touch you. The darkness won´t get you! As if he was supervising a corporate hit-team in action, only giving orders. Once he started to formulate his intentions into mental commands, his own body started to move without question.

It started slowly at first, moving his left hand under the pillow and getting hold of the illegal killing device below. Bringing the arm to rest beside his body again, weapon hidden beneath his gloved hand, the elf relaxed for one more moment. Then he tensed, all his muscles getting ready to spring into action at the right moment. Don´t freez! Adrenalin was forcing his heart to beat harder, his vision began to blure. Breath! He focused on his heartbeat, keeping it from getting ever faster, but unabled to get it down. Then Paddy´s voice rung in the fight, like the bell in a boxing arena.

Get up! The elf drew his long lags as close to the chest as he could and curled into a ball. Rolling backwards with the momentum, until only his arms, neck and shoulders would connect to the bed, he collected even more kinetic energy from the old springs screeching inside. Then he cashed in on the force and extended his torso and lags again, vaulting his whole body up and away.

Run. He had never done this before, but apperetly whatching cob doing so was sufficient to pull it off himself. When he hit the ground beyond the bed´s foot-end running, he was surprised that nobody had sprung into action, yet. Run! Normaly he wouldn´t get his senses together, until the first exchange of hostilities was over, but he wasted no thought about that, instead moving quickly to get to his target. White steam blew from his mouth and his lungs pumped like a locomotive, as he circumvented the trio of runners in the middle of the room in large strides. RUN!!!

While he circled them, they seemed to pick up speed with every step he took, but concerned with things of their own, they all but ignored him and his adversary at the far wall of the room. When he was three steps away from the animated ex-metahuman, his index-finger curled around the whip´s trigger, releasing the point-weight to pop out of it´s housing. A flick of the wrist and the wire was fully unrolled from the hyper-dense ceramo-steel ring it had been resting on, by the centripetal force pulling at it´s weighted tip.

Kill it ... He guided the deadly, nigh invisible blade around his body and over his head, aiming for the thing´s throat – or what was left of it. ... again. This was all about precision and speed. The precision was perfect, but the split-second of hesitation was delay enough for the monster to read his move and bend –in a way only a dead body could- to trade head against arm.

It seemed like an eternity, while the monomolecular edge circled around John´s body and he adjusted his stance to align with the next favourable vector of attack. In the mean time, the ménage a trois broke into what looked like friendly brawling compared to the dislodgement of body parts from a blood gurgling corpse cadaver. In turn, the later one tryed to wind itself free of it´s bounds, but they held to fast, so it bend down again, where a living, feeling being could not move an inch. As John watched in morbid fascination, it tied to somehow melt together with the lost arm again.

The three playmates had finished rolling on the ground and exchanging teasing sparks of electricity, as the whip entered it´s final trajectory... time, the neck, this time, the neck, this time, the ...

Jack back on his feet started trading punches with Paddy, then out of nowhere Carla zapped him with some kind of electrical attack. White traces of lightning played across his face. It seemed powerful, but did nothing to slow him down.

What was dat, a bug zapper? he thought.

It was enough distraction for the elf to land a blow on one of Jack's still healing wounds.

"Gaahgh," he said as he felt dizziness overcoming him. He fought on with all the skill and grace of a novice heavyweight boxer, which is to say, close to none.

"I don't want to hurt you, but I got to. Get away from me."

Now every breath was a freezing, painful ordeal, only made worse by the elf's last good blow. He tried to stay steady, tried to fight off the dizziness, tried to fight with skill but he new, that thankfully, if the elf landed another blow like the last he would be down on the hard, cold basement floor.

Damn, what a fraggin day dis turned out to be, he thought. Hope when I go under dis thing can't control me no more. I don't like what I'm doin here.

Los Locos´ Basement
Friday 08/15/70 12:34:16

Carla had little time to do more than cringe and throw her arms up as the ork charged her. Something crashed to the ground with a loud thud, however, and Carla saw the ork had fallen...and now Paddy was trying to tackle him. It was odd, part of Carla's mind observed, to see Paddy appear so much smaller than his adversary for a change.

But enough observing; Carla didn't want to hurt Jack, but they definitely had to subdue him somehow. Taking advantage of the fact that he was preoccupied with Paddy, Carla snuck up behind Jack and jumped up to grab his face. As her fingertips made contact, she activated her shock-hand and released a charge of electricity into his body.

Apparently it wasn't enough, though; Jack twitched a bit and let out of grunt of irritation, but his fight with Paddy had hardly slowed down. God damn useless thing - and Uncle Alvarez thought this might protect me?. Fearing she might get hit by a wayward limb, Carla was forced to retreat and reconsider a new plan. As Paddy and Jack fought in one corner and Krait and the corpse fought in the other, Carla took a moment to survey her surroundings, desparate to find something that be of use to her.

Los Locos´ Basement
Friday 08/15/70 12:34:18

Suddenly, Jack felt no more need to attack the doc and the elf. He backed away raising his hands.

"O.K. folks, I think dis is over now, ya know?" he said. "I'm just gonna open da door so we can get some warmer air in here."

Reeling like a skid row bum, Jack made his way to the door and pulled it open. Then he looked at the basement and nodded at Frank.

"Good thing I didn't want dat whip."

Then he walked to his cot and slowly lowered himself onto it, as waves of dizziness overcame him.

"I think I could use a nap now, ya know? Hey Frank, you think you could get my guns from the alley?"

He wasn't stunned to the point of being unconscious, but his struggle with the spirit and fight with the elf had exhausted his reserves. He quickly slid into a deep sleep.

Los Locos´ Basement
Friday 08/15/70 12:34:18

Just like he had expected it, the thing held true to its nature: it went in for a kill. Even though he had never been the kind to pay a whole lot of during his magical theory classes, the young elf knew enough about the nature and pulsions of outerplanes threats. And one sure had been proven over and over again concerning the behavior of shedims: they killed. They murdered. The sought the warmt of life with the intention of snuffing it. Nothing was rational about how they behaved. They were, for all intent and purposes, so alien that a human being could never relate. Why had this shedim tried to negotiate his way to his employer? Because even tho it was alien, it seemed quite intelligent. It had picked a prey, and lay out what he thought was the best approach to catch his prey. It was behaving like any good hunter would have. Only, without honor and dignity.

Altought devoid of all his usual dweomers, Conall felt more than ready for the ork. Or at least he thought so. The man's juiced up nervous system was fast, but apparently not fast enough to adjust his balance. The young elf had already planned his move, which was to knock the ork off his feet, when he went down on his own. For a split second, a part of Conall's mind couldn't help it but chuckle at the irony of it all. Clumsy and graceless orks. All the same. Possessed or not. If Conall had been true to his training, and very predatory nature, he would have used this moment of superior stance to take the ork well out of comission. But doing so would have meant taking his life. He'd have to knock him out without braking him in to many places.

Went Jack face connected hard with the floor, Conall leaped foward, grabbing one of the ork's arm, and twisting it behind his back. His knee firmly planted between Jack's muscular shoulder blades, his free hand pushing hard on his neck, Conall applied a textbook TRC lock. He felt Jack try to move under him, straining his own muscle to the brink to keep him pinned to the floor. Went he felt him go slightly slack for an instant, Conall knew he had him. That was it. Quick and clean. His eyes went up to catch Carla's, a smile only a brief moment away from his lips.... when Jack grunted and started to literally lift himself off the ground... with Conall literally piggy backing him.

In the end, the ork was twice as strong as Conall had predicted it. This... this wasn't anywhere near from over. As he was letting go of Jack, Conall's mind was already running a milion senarios over and over. This combat was something entirely out of his style. Jack was an ork, and so, his sluggishness was to work agaisn't him. But Conall had never faced an adversary he couldn't physically overpower... or simply break in two with his Talent. He felt stripped to the bone. He felt naked without the option to call forth Wolf. It was just him, to his very bare self.

Behind him, Conall could feel Krait moving into action... which wasn't soon enough.

I bloody fragging hope you know what the hell you're doing Krait.

Conall hated relying on anyone else but himself to get a job done. Especially shedim slaying. But thit time around, even a loner like himself had to come to the hard conclusion that there was no way he could win this entire fight by himself. Trust. He'd have to trust Krait to get it done while he kept Jack away from Carla.

Jack was now turned, facing him with, for lack of a better word, a rather displeased expression. He made a sort of trogg grunt and a single step forward. Over Jack's broard shoulder, Conall saw Carla vault forward. His mind didn't get the chance to curse at how god damn crazy the woman was when he saw Jack's body jolt to the side, and twitch a few time... as if thunder itself had struck him. Maybe she had a taser... No matter. Conall didn't ponder on it very long, putting himself, once again, between his employer and Jack. The young elf had no idea what had just happened, but it had tilted the scale in his favor: the ork was now cornered. The only way to Carla was through him.

Conall had sworn himself to defend these people. He would have stood in front of an army.

Jack started to throw punches, which Conall weaved around like child's play. The ork's body language was extremely expressive, and even before his fists started in one direction, the young elf knew where they were going. After dodging a few more hits, Conall finally dove under a high jab, giving the strongest hit he could muster in Jack's lower backside. Altought powerfully built, a grunt of pain escaped from Jack's lips as he stumbled back a few steps, his back hitting the corner of the room. A small smile creeped on Conall's lips. His punch had caught the ork dead square on his kidney. From days spent sparring with instructors and fellow cadets, Conall knew that a hit to the kidney could easily prove fatal. But that was on “normal� individuals. On your average criminal. Not on people built for hard labor like orks and trolls. Nevertheless, it was a vulnerable spot on any living being.

Still ready for an attack, Conall held his ground. Jack was obviously in a certain amount of pain, and fighting rather stubornly to stay on his feet.

Come on. Just drop the frag down. Don't make me kill you.

At the very moment Conall was ready to swoop down on Jack for a final takedown hit, the young shaman's pointed ear caught something hitting the floor and bouncing a few time. Just ask Jack was raising his hands and backing well away, Conall risked a glance over his shoulder. And he saw it, just a few inches from his boot: the corpse head. Clean cut.


"O.K. folks, I think dis is over now, ya know?" he said. "I'm just gonna open da door so we can get some warmer air in here."

Apparently, things were over. Straightening back into a normal stance, Conall started to smile in a strangely amused way. He bent down to inspect the decapited head, and looked back to where Krait was still standing, monofilamental whip in hand. This time around, as he caught Krait looking back, Conall chuckled out loud.

“Well well well!� he stood back up, sending the head rolling toward Krait with the tip of his boot “I'll be bloody fragging damned mate.�

His shoulders bopped up and down a few more times. Apparently, the shaman was finding the situation terribly amusing.

“I wasn't quite sure ye were the man enough to get that business sorted out. Almost did it meself. But damn boy!� exclamed Conall “Ye fragging went ahead and gave himself a mighty buzz cut! That's brutal Frank. Just fucking brutal.�

Still laughing, probably partly out of disbelief for what had just happened, and shaking his head, Conall went to Carla.

“Are ye all right?�

Los Locos´ Basement
Friday 08/15/70 12:34:25

Carla was huddled in the far corner of the room, panting heavily as her body's defense mechanisms slowly began to cool down. On the opposite end of the room was Krait, who had sliced the head of the infected corpse clean off its shoulders. At the other end of the room Jack the ork had fallen asleep - no doubt overwhelmed by such an ordeal. Paddy was congratulating Krait on a job well done.

Dear god, it wasn't getting any better. Every time Carla started thinking she might be able to ignore this shedim business, it came right back to bite her in the ass. And each time it seemed to get worse.

Why had Krait bound up the corpse? Why had Jack mentioned shedim before this whole ordeal began? Carla had been involved in, what, one - maybe two shedim encounters with her teammates? Why would either of them expect that the attacks had anything to do with her? What exactly had Krait even dragged her down here for anyway - couldn't he have done this data-hacking crap on his own?

What if Paddy or Krait hadn't been here? Carla had managed to survive these encounters on her own a few times, but she should have known those instances were mostly due to luck. She wasn't always going to have a mage and an elf with a mono-filament whip to look out for her, or a dwarven security guard like the one back in New York. Suddenly Carla thought back to her parents, the victims at the New York hospital, the victims at the clinic, the victims at the sex-club. How many deaths was she now responsible for?

And what was she supposed to tell her mercenaries now? Sorry I didn't tell you I have a hex placed on me. I hope you don't mind sticking around a little longer. What was she supposed to tell this Jack fellow? No doubt he wasn't happy about having his body possessed by a demon.

Carla forced a cough. Her throat hurt - why was she having trouble breathing? It was only then that she realized she was on the verge of crying. It didn't matter how tough and detached and in-control Carla tried to be; her body had been emotionally overwhelmed and now it was trying to expel the build-up of stress-produced hormones. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Carla berated herself, Why does this have to happen now? She hadn't broken down any of the previous times she had faced off against shedim, but this time was different. This time her secret was out, and she couldn't bear the shame.

Keeping her head low, Carla pushed Paddy out of her way, grabbed the medkit off the floor, and started attending to Jack's injuries. Perhaps doing some work would make her feel better. At any rate, it gave her an excuse to keep her back to the elves, preventing them from getting a good look at her face.

"I'm very sorry about all this," Carla muttered. She spoke rapidly to hide any instability in her voice. "You two must want an explanation."

In front of Los Locos´ Basement, The Barrio, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Friday 08/15/70 12:34:22
Krait – doing the dishes
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 1), Moai offline

As the monomolecular carbon-tube closed in on the villain´s head, it stared at him ferociously and suddenly, John fealt the strong urge to over-shoot his designated target and hit his employer instead. When he thought that just swinging through and hitting her side would be rather inefficient, however, he noticed that despite being tempted to attack her, he had no motivation to actually kill her, which made no sense, given the weapon at hand. Wanting to attack her made no sense in the first place, of course, so he concluded that this urge was not his own, but rather a projection of the vial fiends devious powers. With cool resolve, he brushed it aside and held the stare, as his whip connected with dead flesh and passed through it almost without resistance. The foul spirit had focused too much of it´s attention on the vain attempt to dominate the elf´s mind, to escape it´s vessel´s renewed destruction. The head fell to the floor, bounced and rolled over to the trio of other combatants, which cased all hostilities in renewed alliance.

John knew, that he had not killed a human being, still he wondered if he shouldn´t feel bad about it. He felt nothing however, his mind occupied with the next steps to resolve this situation. Using the momentum of the whip, he swung it around in an eight turned sideways, to be sure that the edge and the point-weight´s Teflon-covered lotus-effect-surface had not the slightest droplet of blood or pice of flesh clinging to it. Paddy on the other hand seemed to find this scene highly amusing and John cast forward a slight smile in reflection of the other elf´s expression. He took a calm and well-measured step back from the head kicked into his direction, however, as he had no use for blood staining his expensive shoes, and asked the shaman, still smiling, but with a mild shadow of concern over his eyes.

Krait: “Are we sure they can´t use this vessel again? Otherwise we might want to close this door!�

Careful not to step on any bloodstains, the ex-lawyer paced outside to recollect the ork´s loot, nodding towards him, as he retreated back to his resting-place. He picked up the comlink that hat been catapulted across the room by the shedim´s evasive movements, then went on to the restroom, to run some water over the monowilament-whip, but left the door wide open, so he could keep speaking.

Krait: “We need to clean up this mess and get rid of the meat. It should still contain some viable ware! If you know someone reasonably trustworthy in that line of work, they might take care of it free of charge, but it´s probably safest, to dispose of it all by or selves.�

The technician inspected the killing instrument for any traces of use once more, before slowly retracting the mono-wire into the handle and headed back to the bad.

In front of Los Locos´ Basement, The Barrio, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Friday 08/15/70 12:34:30
Krait – talking straight
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 1), Moai offline

John revisited the last night´s events in his mind, clearly recalling the scene, as they waited infront of Ground Zero, when Ms Johnson tapped the twins on the shoulders and beckoned them to step further away from Violet and him. Once they were some paces a way, she had whispered to them. The elf couls clearly hear the words in his head, even without any recording device´s aid.

"Can either of you see if there is any spirit activity going on around here? Particularly, um, nasty kinds of spirits - like shedim."

Krait: “You had an unpleasant encounter with them before, I guess?�

The ex-lawyer was an expert in reading people and even without seeing her face, he could not fail to hear the concealed arousal in the women´s voice. Not that the scene they all had just participated in wasn´t enough to warrant a great deal of emotional unrest, but there clearly was something more going on. He could use the situation, to put preasure on their employer and get her to talk, but he had always found that it was much more worthwhile, to help putting people at ease, to make them more communicative. Thus he spoke his words in a soft and soothing voice instead of lacing them with dissent and reproach.

Los Locos´ Basement
Friday 08/15/70 12:34:32

"Oh, you guess! Don't play stupid with me Frank," Carla's tone came off more caustic than she intended. She paused to pull herself together a bit. "Why did you feel the need to tie up a dead man, Frank? You were expecting something like this to happen, weren't you?"

Los Locos´ Basement
Friday 08/15/70 12:34:41

"zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, ssssssssssssssss, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, sssssssssssssssss,"

At some level of consciousness Jack could feel Carla treating his wounds. He smiled his toothy, ugly ork smile.

Then he heard: "Oh, you guess! Don't play stupid with me Frank," Carla's tone came off more caustic than she intended. She paused to pull herself together a bit. "Why did you feel the need to tie up a dead man, Frank? You were expecting something like this to happen, weren't you?"

Jack opened his eyes. "Hey, I'm kinda tryin ta get some sleep here, ya know. Let's argue about what a nosy drek head Frank is later. OK?" Then he was asleep again.

"zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, ssssssssssssssss, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, sssssssssssssssss,"

Los Locos´ Basement
Friday 08/15/70 12:34:43

When Jack spoke, the young shaman blatantly ignored him.

“Best guess he was.� said Conall, matter of factly, at Carla's comment.

Arms crossed, he rested his back agaisn't one of the room's decrepit wall.

“But that was just because our man here is a right caution. And thats the end of it.�

Conall's eyes went straight to Krait. He held them there while he spoke.

“And we don't need an explanation, now do we Frank? We wouldn't want one because it is none of our concerns.� continued the elf is a serious tone... but not his usual seriously annoyed, or seriously sarcastic tone.

He turned his head to face Carla, giving her a slight smile.

“So, unless this hereby little hijinx is connected to yer missing friend, then I suggest we dump our guy somewhere and be on our way. Ain't like we've got all shiny day. Clock's a ticking.�

Uncrossing his arms, Conall pushed himself off the wall.

“Now, we've got the jap's link number. He might be our man, he might not be. I say we just trace him and bag his sorry ass with as much haste as we can.�

Going over toward Naguel's decapited body, Conall started to “prod� at his body with the tip of his boot.

“Frank, ye think you can get on our jap's case like square now? If ye can find that out, I can set up the grounds work for our own little citizen's arrest.�

He looked up toward Carla, once again, from his now crouched position in front of Naguel.

“That is, unless ye be having some sort of fierce objection to the whole affair I propose?

He peered over towrad Jack.

And what about this bloke?"

Los Locos´ Basement
Friday 08/15/70 12:34:43

"zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, ssssssssssssssss, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, sssssssssssssssss,"

Los Locos´ Basement
Friday 08/15/70 12:34:45

"No, no, I have no objections," Carla answered - her voice sounded tired. "If we cut up the body into parts, I can take them directly to the clinic and try to salvage some of the cyberware. The church set up a site nearby for incinerating corpses, so I can dispose of the remains there."

"Meanwhile, assuming you got some worthwhile information, Frank, you and Paddy should get started tracking down Kenichi. So let's clean up this mess and get out of here."

Los Locos´ Basement
Friday 08/15/70 12:35:01

“Shiny then.� was all Conall said as he began to untie the headless corpse.

He spoke without looking up from his grizly task. The young shaman would have never admited it, but he found himself strangely surprised by his lack of empathy. He was just a few minutes away from chopping up a dead body into spare parts... and it didn't bother him the least. Maybe, after all, there was something wrong with him.

“What I'll be needin'...� he started, without looking up from the corpse “are rolls of electrical tape... and either a meat cleaver or a saw.�

He finally looked up toward Carla.

“The surgical kind would do ammounts of wonders, but I'll manage with whatever ye can produce.�

Part of Naguel's body started to slump forward.

“Garbage bags as well. Lots. And I wouldn't spit at some gloves and a mask.�

By the time he had finished listing what he'd need for his “menial� task, Conall was done untieing the body from the pipes. Grabbing the dead man's jacket, he pulled him away from the wall, lying him down flat on his back.

“Techhead� he threw over his shoulder “ye start on Kenichi's trail. By the time am fair and done with this fella, we'll want to hit running, hoi?�

In front of Los Locos´ Basement, The Barrio, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Friday 08/15/70 12:35:18
Krait – talking straight
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 1), Moai offline

John was slightly surprised, that Ms Johnson apparently wouldn´t mind, to even salvage the dead runner´s ware herself. Then again, the fact that she was actually able to do that would mean, that she was more than just some paramedic and had a more professional approach to this kind of operation. While the ex-lawyer wasn´t exactly found of the idea to chop up a body, he wouldn´t skip out on doing part of the dirty work –well he already had done part of the job- except that Paddy was right, in that his time was probably better invested in another way. However he didn´t completely share his elven kinsman´s optimism, that that comcode would lead them to the end of their search.

Krait: “Well, I´m not so optimistic, that this comcode will prove to be that usefull. We may be licky, but it may just as well be temporary, out of use or some blank account. From what V told us, K is probably a professional. Our friend here might turn out to be just as good of a trace, if not better. So, I´d like to collect some biometrics from him, before that is no longer possible! It will just take me an hour to pick up my gear. I could also start dealing with comstuff in the meantime. Besides, our options to put that comcode to use are fairly limited without item number two from my list of additional gear, which could be of tremendous help.�

The item John was talking about was of course a Tracking program, which would allow them to trace back a matrix connection to it´s physical point of origin. As he spoke, he still couldn´t get the shedim business out of his head, but maybe this still wasn´t the time and place to discuss that thing.

In front of Los Locos´ Basement, The Barrio, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Friday 08/15/70 12:35:18

Conall began to take his heavily armored jacket off, folding it and setting it far away from the body.

"Reminds me I might need some trinklets also... but all in due time."

He picked up Naguel's head by the hair, bringing it back to the body, in a rather disturbingly casual manner.

"And due time is when we start knowing a little more than bloody frag all about this guy, and this," he gestured toward Krait with his chin "means you need to get that part of the deal done, and done soon, hoi?"

The young shaman dropped the head on the floor, where it made a rather "unpleasant" sound. He bent down and started going through the bodies pockets, and then undressing him.

"Oh yea. I'll need a pack of smokes to..." he started looking over the body once more "and one of those hedge clipper things..."

Conall looked toward Krait once more.

"Listen mate, you just do what you gotta do. You do it fast, and you do it now. I ain't about to go and pretend that I know what that entails, but this is the only piece of the puzzel we've got. So run with it. I'll take care of this mess. Mam'" he started to Carla's intention "I ain't the willing kind to send you on errands... but I need Frankie Boy here to do his stuff. Means am counting on ye to get me those little goods I mentioned."

He turned his attention to her, his golden brown eyes meeting her gaze.

"We square?"

Los Locos´ Basement
Friday 08/15/70 12:35:18

"zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, ssssssssssssssss, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, sssssssssssssssss,"

Los Locos´ Basement
Friday 08/15/70 1:35:18

"zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, ssssssssssssssss, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, sssssssssssssssss,"

Oakland, warehouse HQ of the Grand Ave. Grinders

Sixteen year old Billy stood on a chair in the middle of the meeting area.

"Listen up everyone," he said. "This corporator is Mr. Johnson and he has an announcement he'd like to make."

As the impeccably dressed Japanese man stood up, Joe Slider the gangs greasy dwarf mechanic shouted, "Hey, you want to see a real Mr. Johnson? Look right here." as he pointed to his crotch.

Nonplussed, the man reached into his pocket and withdrew a credstick. He held it aloft for all to see then spoke, "This is a certified credstick worth 1,000. I am looking for some local talent to augment my regular detail of bodyguards during a meeting with some freelance operatives. If one of you would like to join my team after this meeting the credstick is yours, provided you fight in my defense should any hostilities break out during negotiations.

Jill Sanchez leaned over and whispered to Jack "He wants one of us to guard him during a meeting with some shadowrunners."

Jack hadn't had a clue what the man was talking about, nevertheless he whispered back to Jill, "I knew dat."

She smiled and said, "Uh huh."

"These negotiations are usually heavy on rhetoric but light on violence. This should be what is known in the business as, 'a cake walk.' You stand in a room with me for a short period of time, then walk with me to my vehicle, at which point I hand you the credstick and our business is concluded. Should the operatives choose to become less than civil, you will be expected to defend me along with my bodyguards. Is anybody interested in earning a little easy money?"

Jack stood up and said, "I am."

Jill grabbed his arm. "Are you crazy? This suit would probably like to ship you off to some Phillipino death camp."

The Johnson replied, "I assure you young lady, I do not agree with the racist policies of the Japanese government. I have found time and again that racism is not a profitable business practice. I practice business to make a profit for myself and my corporation."

"I'm goin Jill my moms could use some money. Dis could be a door ta bigger opportunities, ya know?"

Together, Jack and the suit walked out of the warehouse to a Mercury Comet. The driver opened the front passenger door for the suit, then gave Jack a dubious look as he opened the back door. Jack got into the vehicle and hoped he wasn't making a big mistake. The suit turned to him and asked, "Do you have what you need to do your job?"

Jack nodded, "I got a chain and my trusty huntin, knife. I'll be all right."

"That is all well and good, Mr......?"

"Oh, Robustus. Jack Robustus."

"But there is an old saying, 'Never bring a knife to a gun fight.' Are you skilled with firearms?"

"What's dat, some kinda cyberlimb?"

The driver almost laughed out loud. "No a firearm is a gun. Do you know how to use a gun?"

"Yeah," Jack said, "I've shot a gun a time or two."

"Very good," the suit said. "Under your seat you will find a pistol and two extra clips of ammunition. Please take these to our meeting. Once our business is concluded, they are yours to keep."

"Wow, dats really nice a you Mr. Johnson."

"If you have not noticed already, there is a lined coat on the seat next to you. Please put it on and conceal your pistol beneath it before we get out of the car. The coat is also yours to keep."

"Will do, Mr. Johnson." Jack immediately donned the coat and grabbed the pistol from beneath the seat.

"Frag, a Ares predator! Dats some sweet gun. Ya sure I get ta keep it?"

"Of course I'm sure," the suit replied.

Jack stuffed the gun in his belt, beneath the coat, and put the spare clips in his coat pockets. The car pulled up to the rear entrance of a Chinese restaurant. As Jack, the suit and the driver got out of the car, an elf and a human, both of Japanese descent came out the door and held it open for Mr. Johnson. They walked into a long hallway with several doors on either side. Coming down the hallway was old Mr. Huang the owner of the restaurant. He pointed at Jack and shouted, "He can't be here. He banned from restaurant. He and all his hoodlum friends."

"Mr. Huang," the suit replied, "I have paid handsomely for the use of this private room. This hoodlum is now in my employ and he will be coming inside with the rest of my team."

"As you wish sir, but he is troublemaker. He and his friends should be in jail."

"Fine Mr. Huang. In a few minutes another ork will come to your front entrance asking for Mr. Kurosawa. When he does, please see that he finds his way to my room."

"Yes, Mr. Johnson," old Mr. Huang replied.

The suit then led the rest of his team into the banquet room. It was spacious with several long tables, each surrounded by chairs. Additional chairs and folding tables were stacked in a corner. The suit began handing out orders. "Akihito, you will station yourself at the door, left hand side."

"Hai."

"Kenzo shut the curtains, dim the lights, then position yourself in that corner," the suit said pointing.

"Hai."

"Takeno, you and Mr. Robustus will move that table 1 meter from the wall. Place one chair on the side closest to the wall for me, and another on the opposite side for our guest.

"Hai," Takeno replied crisply and sharply.

Jack nodded his head and went to help Takeno move the furniture.

"Excellent," Mr. Johnson said. "Now Takeno you will stand beside me on my right hand side. Mr. Robustus you will stand beside on my left hand side." They each moved to their respective positions.

The suit took a deep breath. "Mr. Robustus, my other men are well trained in the etiquette of these meetings but you probably are not. During the meeting I will do the talking. The operatives will normally be represented by an individual they call a face. Sometimes another member of their group will interrupt with a question or comment. That is fine for them. I am the only one in our group who will do any talking. Even if they address you directly, you will not talk to them. Is that understood?

"Yes Mr. Johnson," Jack said. For a 1,000 he could stop talking for the entire night for all he cared.

Jack surveyed the room. He, Takeno and the suit were positioned well away from the windows with their backs facing the wall. Akihito, the elf, would be behind the door when it opened. Quite likely he would not be seen by anyone entering the room and walking to the table. Kenzo was positioned in the corner opposite the windows and farthest from the table. If there was trouble with the shadowrunners, they would likely get the drop on them because of the lighting and their positions.

A few minutes later, Mr. Huang opened the door and a thin, hunched ork came into the room. The suit produced a small device from his pocket, placed it on the table and activated it. A sound like radio static filled the room. The ork shambled forward and sat opposite Mr. Johnson. Jack recognized the devious, leering face of Shagrat, leader of the local chapter of the Sons of Sauron.

"Jack my boy," the SOS chieftain began, "I see you're running with a higher class of people these days. Good for you. That Billy kid and his pathetic gang are a one way trip to nowhere for a big strapping ork like you."

Jack did not reply.

"What's a matter boy," Shragrat said looking at the suit, "cat got your tongue?"

Jack did not reply.

The suit cleared his throat, "Mr. Thorndyke I believe you are here to discuss a business proposal with me."

Mr. Thorndyke? Are you kiddin' me Jack thought.

The suit then laid out the offer for a simple operation involving the acquistion of several data chips from a local insurance office. They dickered for a short time then settled on 1,000 up front and 3,000 upon delivery. The suit produced a credstick from his jacket and handed it to Shagrat. The bent ork got up, noted the other guards, then left the room.

"You know this man?" the suit asked Jack.

"Yeah, I know him."

"Tell me about him."

"He's scum. His real name's Shagrat and he's da leader of da local SOS."

"Odd, don't you think? His wanting to do business with me."

"Real odd. Goes against all da drek he constantly spouts, ya know?"

"Kenzo move the car to the front of the building."

"Hai."

The guard in the corner typed some commands into his commlink.

"The vehicle is moving sir. ETA to front doors, 2 minutes."

"Good. Takeno, call in an armed rotodrone to secure the rooftops in a four block radius."

'Hai."

He typed some commands into his commlink.

"Rigger reports two orks armed with assault rifles on top of the restaurant."

"Have them terminated."

Again, Takeno typed commands into his commlink.

The sound of automatic weapons fire filled the room. After 10 seconds it ceased.

"Rigger reports both targets terminated."

"Good, now we leave."

They left the room and walked the hallway to the main dining area. Akihito and Kenzo in front, the suit in the middle, followed by Takeno and Jack. Upon entering the dining area Akihito saw Shagrat stand up holding an antique breechloading shotgun. Akihito drew his weapon and moved forward as Kenzo turned and tackled the suit to the ground. Jack pulled his new pistol just in time to see the elf's head shredded by the buckshot. Jack reached the entry to the dining area and took aim while Shagrat fumbled with more shells to reload the shotgun. Jack unloaded the entire clip of is new pistol into the chest of the stunned SOS leader, knocking him back through the front windows of the restaurant.

"Target terminated," Jack said proudly.

Kenzo was already examining the body of his former teamate. Mr. Johnson stood up and looked at him. Kenzo shook his head, no.

"Who pay for all the damage to my restaurant," Mr. Huang screamed.

The suit closed his eyes and sighed, as if trying to let some uncontrollable rage pass through him. Then he looked at Mr. Huang and said, "You will be fairly compensated for any property damage. Takeno please retrieve our property from Mr. Thorndyke"

"Hai." The body guard did as instructed.

"Now give it to Mr. Huang"

"Hai." The body guard did as instructed.

Mr. Johnson activated his commlink and called for a medical evac team. In less than five minutes an unmarked ambulance arrived in front of the restaurant. The medics removed the remains of Akihito.

"Who gonna clean up this mess?" Mr. Huang whined.

"You are sir, you are," replied Mr. Johnson. On his commlink he said, "Confirm area secure. Excellent."

"Now we leave gentlemen."

'Hai." Takeno and Kenzo replied in unison.

As they walked forward, the suit turned and addressed Jack. "Are you coming Mr. Robustus?"

"You bet I am, Mr. Johnson, you bet I am."

"Jack, don't you think 15 rounds was a bit excessive?" Mr. Johnson asked as they left the restaurant.

"Oh me and Shagrat had a lotta bad history, ya know? I figure he got off easy."

Mr. Johnson nodded. "I lost a good guard today. I hope you can someday be his equal."

"I hope so too Mr. Johnson.

Los Locos´ Basement


Jack awoke from his dream. He could see that the others had been busy. Frank looked asleep but was probably working on techno stuff. Paddy was dismembering the corpse. Carla helping out as best she could.

He sat up and stretched. "There any a dat good Mexican food left? I'm kinda hungry, ya know?"

In front of Los Locos´ Basement, The Barrio, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Friday 08/15/70 12:35:25

Carla scribbled down the list of Frank and Paddy's requests. "Okay, I'm going to head out and get your equipment," Carla told her teammates. "You do whatever you need to do with the body while I'm gone. I'll meet both of you back here in an hour, at which point I'll take care of the remains of the body and you guys can get to work on Kenichi."

Los Locos´ Basement, The Barrio, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Friday 08/15/70 12:38:00

Carla had been gone only a few moments when the door to the basement opened.

To Paddy, the woman that entered was known as Etain. To Krait she was, among other apparent handles, Ayrin. Jack was pretty sure he had forgotten what she was called, if they had ever been introduced. Unfortunately, she did not appear to be bearing Mexican food.

Seeing her brother, she immediately spoke in the tongue of the elves - I called St. Pierre and he told me where to find you...- and then her speech caught short as she saw the bloody bag of gore tied to the pipe.

Los Locos´ Basement, The Barrio, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Friday 08/15/70 12:39:00

Wow, she's a looker, for a smooth skin Jack thought when he saw the new arrival.
I'm in a gang hideout with a chopped up corpse, a beat up motorcycle, and three elves. How da hell did that happen?

"Were you at da bar last night?" Jack asked. "I ain't too good with names or faces." Pointing at Krait, "I'm still tryin' ta figure out if dat guys name is Frank, ya know?"

Los Locos´ Basement, The Barrio, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Friday 08/15/70 12:39:00

"Hey, I know nobody here owes me nothing, 'cept Frank, but I've already been compensated for my efforts on his behalf," Jack said while patting his bag o guns.

"I get da feeling dat both a you," nodding at Paddy and Etain, "is magical types. I figure his magic's all about putting folks in da hospital, ya know?" Then looking at Etain, "But maybe your magic is about helping people out if dey get hurt. If you could heal me I'd be much obliged."

Los Locos´ Basement, The Barrio, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Friday 08/15/70 12:38:58
Krait – PAN-Piracy-Preparations
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 1), Moai offline

Paddy: "We square?"

Jack: "zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, ssssssssssssssss,"

Frank: “A´ight, just leave the hand- and fingerprints and what is left of the teeth unmolested until the end.�

John started to done his paper-overall again, as he answered to the other elf.

Jack: "zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, ssssssssssssssss,"

Ms Johnson: "You do whatever you need to do with the body while I'm gone. I'll meet both of you back here in an hour, at which point I'll take care of the remains of the body and you guys can get to work on Kenichi."

The hacker just nodded and went on to set up his next matrix-dive, while their employer prepared to leave. Sitting on the bedside, vid-sensor in, gear beneath the pillow, he put the cap on to his head, ready to pull it over his face, when...

Jack: "zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, ssssssssssssssss, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, ssssssssssssssss,"

suddenly his ears twitched slightly, as his cyber-enhancements filtered Ayrin´s footsteps approaching down the ally out of the ork´s white-noise. He got up and casually moved between the door and the corpse, as if visiting the bathroom, to shield the most gruesome views of the beheaded body from the door.

Jack: "There any a dat good Mexican food left? I'm kinda hungry, ya know?"

She had not coped too well –or precisely, reacted more like most nrmal people would- with all the violence, as far as the consummate social engineer could tell.

Frank: “There should be a can of ‘chilli faux-carne’, but the other stuff is more bland, I´m a freight! Some sweets, too, if you´re interested.�

The girl entered and started spilling melodic words of which John only comprehended the name St. Pierre, though he instantly recognized the tongue of his kin. The flow stoped aprubtly, however, as he was not able to ward the whole scenery with his slender frame.

Frank: “Paddy, I guess there is little you can do, before MJ brings the stuff. So, if you two want to take a walk with...�

He started to speak immediately, to distract the girl and keep her calm, though his words where overlayed by the orks reaction to the new arrival.

Los Locos´ Basement, The Barrio, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Friday 08/15/70 12:41:00

As usual, the first thing Paddy did was try to whisk his sister out of the room, shield her from the grisly sight. But of course the more he pushed, the less she was having of it. If she had been inclined to flee the scene before, his desire to protect her resolved her to stay.

Determination or no, however, she would scarcely have been useful had Krait not deftly maneuvered her attention to the wounded ork. It allowed her to focus on something less horrible than the body in the room - or the question of how it had gotten there, headless and tied to the wall. And only after her attention was directed to the ork did she seem to notice him at all, despite the fact that he'd been speaking to her. Krait had seen the same phenomenon in other Tirs of noble birth - they often seemed to have to be reminded to even take note of members of the servile races.

She approached Jack and looked at him in that way he'd been looked at before by magical types. What she saw made her frown. She turned and spoke again to her brother in elf talk. After a brief exchange he shrugged. She approached the wounded ork.

Once she was close enough to touch him, he saw that there was something a bit off in her eyes. He'd seen it many times before, growing up. And more than once even after taking up association with a higher class of people.

She placed her hands on his chest and told him to lie still. Or at least that was what it sounded like - her Irish brogue was so strong he could barely make out the words. But a few moments later, he was feeling substantially better, though a little disappointed - she didn't have nearly the juice of some of the pros Mr. Johnson had had him work with.

And just as she seemed to be done, she leaned in closer, as if finishing the spell, and this time her heard her whisper clearly. "Hear me, man. Have ye any Bliss? Or Nova? Whate'er."

Los Locos´ Basement, The Barrio, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Friday 08/15/70 12:42:00

Jack shook his head and whispered back, "No ma'am. I don't do dat kinda drek. Dat's a bad road. I seen too many good folks die cuz a dat kinda stuff. Maybe dat doc lady could help you detox, ya know?"

Afterwards, in a louder voice, he said, "Thanks for da healing. Figure I'll be good to go by tomorrow afternoon."

What a shame. Doing dat drek can't be good for her magic. Course, she'll never take advice from a dumb, ugly ork. Jack thought. Sometimes Jack wished he had a few more persuasive skills than just pointing guns at people or beating the drek out of them.

Los Locos´ Basement, The Barrio, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Friday 08/15/70 12:42:45

Etain's presence brought Conall mixed feelings. He was happy to see her, and as soon as she walked in, he felt a void fill itself back up again. But he was a bit... worried as well. The young shaman knew very well, deep down inside, that his sister wasn't as fragile as he felt. The fact she had gotten herself out of the Tir, and through God only knew what to get back to his side, spoke loudly enough of her strenght. But that didn't make her a hardened soul by any means. There was a difference between choosing the path you wanted to walk down, and having to share a tiny room with a badly mutilated dead body. After what he had put her throught back home... Conall couldn't bare having her witness him dismembering a corpse.

“You should...� he started back in Sperethiel, but Krait was faster than him, jumping in and cutting him short. For once, the young elf saw eye to eye with Krait. Either he was playing it “safe� as usual, or actually getting what was going on.

Behind his back, he could hear the ork speak about... something. Conall wasn't listening, and had no plans to. When Etain drifted past him, the young elf was quick to catch her arm at the wrist, stopping her dead in her tracks. She swung her head around, speaking in a reassuring tone that made him think of their mother.

“It's alright brother. He doesn't seem bright enough to try anything... and we owe him that much.� she said in Sperethiel.

Conall let out a sigh of exasperation.

“Actually, he got in my way more than anything.� he answered back in the same tongue.

It was her time to sigh, but contrary to him, she smiled back at his frown. There was nothing to do, and Conall knew it. As much as she reminded him of their mother, Conall couldn't help but see and hear his own father through himself. He finally gave up, shrugging and releasing her.

As Etain finished healing the trog, Conall finally decided to acknowledge him.

“Assay,� he started in his heavily accented english “ain't ye the bloody wise baldrick.�

Etain threw reprimanding look over her shoulder, frowning at the man that looked much like her, but was so different in so many ways.

“Brother!� she simply said, scolding him in her own manner.

Conall simply chuckle, muttering something under his breath.

“Ye got yer facts pretty much square and straight, baldrick. Am Padraig, but just call me Paddy, if ye can handle that much. Tis wee lass thats doing ye much free kindness is me sister, Ayrin.�

He crossed his arms.

“Now, since Frankie Boy here seems to think yer a doley little fella, and our Miss seems to side with him, I got a fairly good idead what position that put me into. Av' seen what ye can do, twice now, and I'll be nice and say it was painful to watch.�

This time around, Etain turned around, crossing her own arms to mirror Conall, now pouting at him.

“Now why'd you have to say that!� she said in Sperethiel.

“Hoi sis', am just being fair honest with the man. He needs to fucking man up if he wants to work with us.�

Conall approached Jack's bed, uncrossing his arms and popping a few knuckles on his right hand.

“Just getting things clear. Last night, ye got mighty in my way. I could've bagged this here wee sucker� he said, point a thumb at Naguel's body over his shoulder “if ye hadn't try to poke him with your majorette stick. And this day, ye got yer will split in two like a twig by some two bit boogey man. I mean bloddy Christ ork, god damn Frankie Boy here killed him dead. And he did a bloodier better job than ye did.�

He turned slightly toward Frank.

“I did mention nice going, hoi?� he said with a smirk.

His attention went back to Jack... even as he felt Etain's stare drive holes in the back of his skull.

“Listen wee carefully ork, we're all very good at what we do, hoi? Ye've done very little to prove yerself, at least in me own eyes. So ye need to to work hard.�

The elf made a sort of disdainfull sniff.

“So, who trained yer sorry self so good ye got beaten up so bad?�

Sanctuary of St. Ignatius
Friday 08/15/70 12:50:00

Carla hurried through the streets of the barrio, keeping her hood up and her head low to avoid as much recognition as possible. She repeatedly checked her cloak for bloodstains - paranoid that her garment might have been soiled during the fight and that she might accidentally alarm the clinic staff by showing up with blood all over herself.

Pushing open the door to the clinic, Carla walked straight past the patients and nuns without a word and headed for the inventory in the back. The benefit of working with nuns - Carla felt - was that they didn't bother with the social nonsense that pervaded standard office or academic environments. Although some of them might have been wondering what Carla was up to, they remained focused on their work and didn't bother her with pesky questions.

"Alright,...gloves, bleach, towels, filter mask?...A surgical mask will do. One of these old smocks will do..."

Los Locos´ Basement, The Barrio, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Friday 08/15/70 12:50:00

Jack took his time considering Paddy's posturing.

"Who taught me ain't none of your business, although I got taught dat cooler heads prevail, ya know?"

"It's nice ta meet you Ayrin, my name's Jack."

"Paddy if you wanna sling insults at me go ahead, they just show what a weak ass racist you really are. I seen all kinda racists, troll racists, dwarf racists, elf racists, human racists, even ork racists and at the rotten core every single one a dem was weak. Tearin' other people down cuz dey different den you don't make you stronger den dem, it makes you weak. You ain't called me a trog yet, least not in any language I know, but I can see dats what you wanna call me. Maybe you should just do it and den blast me with some spell, ya know? Den I won't be in your way anymore.

Frag, be on dis team with you? What you know about teamwork wouldn't fit on postage stamp. I ain't smart and I ain't good lookin' but I got a sense for things in a fight. I know dis much, you ain't in charge a dis show and neither is Frank or your sister or me. Dat doc lady is callin' da shots. Da, 'two bit boogey man,' wasn't talkin' to you he was talkin' ta her. It didn't want ta kill you, it wanted ta kill her.

I ain't sayin' I'm sorry for 'gettin' in your way' back at da bar. Dat drek head," Jack points at the corpse, "pulled a gun on Frank with one a dem arm sliders. Dat's a cowards tactic. I made a choice ta help Frank cuz a dat. I ain't sayin' you could a done it better if I wasn't there but you wasn't at dat gas station when Frank was lookin' over da bike and mister headless horseman showed up with a lot a firepower to take him out and get da bike back. I was. I made him dead ta begin with. Even though I was totally outgunned, I kept my head and did my job. Guardin' folks is what I do. I don't have ta be flashy about it, I just have ta do it.

You wanna know where I learned ta do what I do? If you're so much better den me, figure it out yourself. Hell, Frank already has. You can bet da pub on dat, ya know?

By da way," Jack reaches into one of his bags and tosses two packs of cigarettes to Paddy, "You asked da doc for smokes, so here ya go. I got more if ya need 'em. Maybe you should give her a call and let her know not ta buy more, ya know? Dat would be teamwork.

Now if ya don't have any more insults ta sling at me for awhile, I think I'm gonna eat dat chile Frank mentioned earlier."

Friday 08/15/70 12:50:04
Krait – PAN-Piracy-Preparations
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 1), Moai offline

The moment John made Ayrin to finally acknowledge Jack he saw something flashing in her eyes. Like a club-girl seeing a guy that was good to pay for the next drink, if nothing else. Still he ignored the whispering his high performance ears picked up, at least for the time being, and went on with his preparations to once more brave the virtual world. It was only when the conversation between Paddy and the ork turned more hostile, that he drew up the cap from his face partially once more, to uncover his mouth and speak freely. He didn´t bother to sit up in the bed or even turn his head, though. He could clearly watch the scene through his attached camera-sensor, after all.

Frank: “I don´t care who´s ugly or racist, as long as it doesn´t hinder our work. But that doesn´t matter. What matters is what MJ thinks and it seems that she´s with me on that, at the moment. This mass has to be cleaned up and Jack needs to get back to being fully operational. So, if the both of you don´t mind to do your job, postpone your exchange of blows –verbal or otherwise- and concentrate on the task at hand. As Paddy mentioned, we are in hot pursuit and we don´t need any unnecessary delays!�

He could have said more, but he figured that it was best to make them all go back to work and not drag out the discussion anymore at this point.

Los Locos´ Basement, The Barrio, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Friday 08/15/70 12:50:17

Conall smiled slyly and shoved his hands into his jacket's pocket, putting the cigarettes away. This ork was no different from all the others he had met. He didn't comprehend his situation, or where his place in the world was. Obviously, people who were born lackeys, and spent their entire life as one, couldn't understand the grander scheme of things. The young shaman shook his head, chuckling to himself. Teamwork. Weakness. Fear. If only this ork knew half of the story, things would have shun in a different light. When John spoke up, Conall nodded a few times in agreement, his strange smile staying on his lips... as if he knew the end of a joke no one else understood.

"Well, at least, it can put forth full and rather coherent sentences. Might be a twinkle of hope, even fer one of yer kind."

Soon, when the heat came around the corner, Conall would show this ork who was the leader, and who was the follower.

Sanctuary of St. Ignatius
Friday 08/15/70 1:02:00

Carla was careful not to take too much out of the clinic inventory; she didn't think her co-workers would appreciate seeing her walk out with her arms full of church-bought equipment. Pulling a plastic garbage bag out of the storage closet, Carla tossed about half of Paddy's requested supplies into the bag and decided she could buy the rest at one of the local corner-stores; after all, she wasn't so broke that she couldn't afford to buy some bleach and cigarettes herself.

Twisting up the garbage bag and making sure it was strong enough not to tear, Carla hefted the bag over her shoulder and headed for the door. Before leaving, however, she decided to have a word with Pilar - one of the older nuns still left at the clinic.

"My apologies, sister," Carla explained in Spanish, "I came across a minor accident down the road that needs some attention. I'll be back as soon as possible. God bless."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn't much later that Carla was exiting one of the (few) operating convenience stores in the barrio with a slightly heavier garbage bag hanging over her shoulder. The shop, Carla was relatively certain, was owned by a relative of a Los Locos member, which probably explained how it managed to stay in business without getting burgled or vandalised. How on Earth could her father have let Carla's sweet old grandmother live in a place like this all these years? Then again, old Carmen Sanchez enjoyed the privilage of being mistress to Don Ricardo - a relationship Carla had been unable to learn much detail about during her weeks in Seattle.

Finally arriving back at the Los Locos hideout, or whatever it was, Carla knocked on the door and waited to be admitted inside. "It's me!" she called.

Los Locos´ Basement, The Barrio, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Friday 08/15/70 1:03:00

Jack listened to what the elves where saying about and to him. He looked at the third elf. She hadn’t come to the gang hideout to see her brother, she came looking to score drugs. She probably figured a gang hideout might provide her the opportunity to acquire drugs. It was no accident that she asked Jack for some when she was healing him. She was just as racist as her brother, only in a gentler, kinder way. Now that she knew Jack could not provide her with what she needed she probably wouldn’t give him the time of day.

He popped open the can of chile and began eating. Then he looked at Paddy. “What, no hog at da trough jokes? I can take a trog joke now and den. A little good natured ribbin’ ain’t gonna hurt me. A couple more jabs ta my kidneys dat might hurt me but not da usual trog jokes. I've heard 'em all, ya know?�

He finished his chile, then emptied the sweets from the bag onto his cot. He normally did not indulge in sweets or alcohol. Staying fit could be the difference between living and dying. One did not stay fit by eating sweets. Today, he figured he had earned a treat.

He looked at Paddy again. “Frank brought some good stuff here. Ya want some? Course nothin’ tops off a good meal like some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, ya know?� he said, while raising his right eyebrow for emphasis.

He opened the wrapper on a carob bar and took a big toothy bite. “Mmmmm.� Then he heard a knock at the door and Carla saying, “It’s me.�

“Hey! Da doc’s back.� Jack finished the candy bar in one more big bite. Then he put the wrapper in the empty bag. After that he gathered up his chile can and other food wrappers and placed them in the empty bag.
“Gotta keep things neat, ya know? Everythin’ in its place and a place for everythin’, dats what my moms used ta say. Course with six kids she had a lot a housework ta do. My sister Jane would be laughin’ herself silly if she saw me chattin’ with a roomful a elves.�

He paused for a moment, then looked at Paddy again.
“You know somethin’ Padraig? I think you and me is gonna hate each other just fine.�

Los Locos� Basement, The Barrio, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Friday 08/15/70 1:08:00


Jack didn't bother to wait for Paddy's reply. He knew the combat mage would say something snide and demeaning. In fact he wondered what the point of continuing the conversation would be, especially since Frank had requested peace and quiet for his work, which was certainly more important than verbal sparring between himself and some high and mighty keebler from turnagog. Besides which, the elf was supposed to be chopping up the dishonorable samurai anyway. No point in distracting him from his work.

His wounds were healing quickly compared to the run of the mill citizen of the Awakened World. Most people would have required a solid week or more to recover from the damage Jack had endured. Jack's prior work had given him enough experience with healing to know almost to the hour how long it would take him to reach a state of full recovery. Thanks to the shedim, that hour would not come until tomorrow afternoon. Waiting was always the worst part of getting wounded. It was so boring. Here it was boring and stressful.

His sister might laugh herself silly at the sight of Jack stuck in a ganger hideout with three of the high and mighty folk but for Jack the situation engendered genuine anxiety. What if Paddy lost his cool and decided to snuff him. Jack had seen enough in the alley behind the bar to know that the elf could no doubt fry him from the inside out and that he was in no real condition to resist the combat mages mana manipulations.

Can't be worryin' about drek like dis, Jack thought.

He looked at Frank on the other cot, with his face covered running around in the virtual world. Doin' dat drek takes a serious nut sack. His brain could get scrambled like a bad ommlet.

Then he looked at Ayrin. What a fraggin' waste. There's da proof dat bein' one a da beautiful people ain't always what it's cracked up ta be.

He thought about his own sister Jolene. She got hooked on Novacoke at a young age. After a serious intervention, a family of six orks (including himself--he took vacation to participate) and half the local gang, telling her to get off the drek, she got treatment. Now she hadn't done the junk in three years. Jack was pretty proud of that.

Then there was the doctor walking down the stairs into the basement, carrying a big trash bag over her shoulder. The group's real leader had a south of the border look to her, which Jack found attractive. Of course, Jack had always been attracted to latinas no matter their metatype. She also had the look of someone who was overworked and underpaid. Underpaid. Yea, dat's what I'll be if I hook up with these folks. Still, I coulda fallin' in with a worse crowd. I wonder what Mr. J.s doin' right now?

Over the course of their five year association Mr. J had worked hard to smooth some of Jack's rough edges. One thing Mr. J had never succeeded in doing was diminish Jack's love for goblin rock. He plugged in his ear buds, subscribed them to his commlink, then pulled up his favorite band The Fighting Uruk-hai. He placed the volume loud enough to hear the music but not so loud that he couldn't hear the conversations in the room.

"Sons of Sauron die
Where the white hand prevails
Blond haired riders fall
Uruk-hai will not fail."

Dat's right, and neither will I Jack thought.

Sanctuary of St. Ignatius
Friday 08/15/70 1:03:00

Having been let into the hideout, Carla dropped her bag of goods on the floor. "Alright Paddy, here's your stuff. I think that-". Carla stopped momentarily, perplexed by the fact that Paddy's sister was in the room. She hadn't been there before, had she? Maybe Paddy had called her down while Carla had been gone. Maybe this Jack fellow wasn't satisfied with good old-fashioned first-aid treatment...

"While you guys work on the body, I'm going to see if I can get you the equipment you need. Now's the time to ask."

Jack takes out his ear buds and speaks to Carla: "I already got a muthaload of gear off dat corpse there. What I wanna know is where I stand with this team? I know Paddy don't really want me on board but I know dat you is da Johnson. Give me a shot. I'm a good fighter.

I already took a lot a bullets to help Frank get clues offa dat fraggin' bike. So I figure I kinda got da right ta see dis thing through.

But hey, it's your call doc. If ya want me I'm here for ya. If not, I'll clear out tomorrow afternoon and ya don't never got ta see my ugly mug again.

What da ya say, doc?"

Sanctuary of St. Ignatius
Friday 08/15/70 1:03:12

After his rather short banter with the ork, Conall had decided to sit down on the floor, his back against the wall. Waiting was becoming a game he was quite used to. Motioning his sister to his side, he unclipped his commlink from his belt and started thumbing through the different book chips. He hadn't brought much when he had left home... reading, which was something he didn't particularly enjoy before, now made him feel like he hadn't completely left.

From across the room, the ork, which apparently wouldn't shut the hell up, spoke up.

“You know somethin’ Padraig? I think you and me is gonna hate each other just fine.�

Conall didn't even look up from his commlink's screen. He chuckled and smiled slyly.

“Ye be making a lot of assumptions. I nay spoke of hatred or dislikes. All I ever spoke was that ye shouldn't be taking anything as granted. Far as am concerned, I just told ye ye'd soon need to prove yerself. Nothing more. Nothing less.�

He looked up.

“Assay, if me putting the bar high for ye makes ye feel all touchy feely, then maybe ye ain't cut out fer the work.�

He shrugged, chuckling once more.

“Sorry if ye misunderstood. Maybe me words were too big.� he finished with a smile.

When Carla walked into the basement, Conall was back unto his feet in a second... and rather not surprised when Jack mentioned, again, that “Paddy hates me�. Again, the young elf reacted the same exact way as before: he laughed mildly, shaking his head. What a bloody cry baby.

“Oh poor ye.� he said to Jack before turning his eyes on Carla.

“Boy can't take criticism.� he simply said, shrugging his shoulders once more, as he grabbed the bag Carla was handing him.

Crouching down, he opened it and started to inspect it's content.

“Well well well. Assay ye did some grand shiny find.� said the young shaman as he looked up from the bag, nodding approvingly.

“The deed shouldn't take more than a wee hour.�

The elf looked across the room toward the dead body.

“Unless our wee mate's got himself reinforced bone structure...� he turned his attention back toward Carla “but no bother in the end.

“Now, about yer request...� he started, taking his commlink out and apparently scrolling throught something “... am flying blind so I might have wondered a wee bit out of the trail.�
He beamed over his list to his employer, and then proceeded to unpack the bag.

“Sister� he said, speaking now in Sperethiel “ye might be inclined to go on a temporary outing. Things are about to happen that will worsen yer nights.�

Los Locos Basement, The Barrio
Friday 08/15/70 1:08:30

Carla didn't pay much attention to the alleged animosity between Paddy and Jack - if anything, that only indicated that the men were getting to know each other.

"I don't doubt your capabilities," Carla answered, thinking back Jack's performance during the ordeal not too long ago, "but whether I can hire you or not is really a matter of affordability. How much do you want?"

Los Locos Basement, The Barrio
Friday 08/15/70 1:09:00

"Well Doc, like I said I've got a small fortune in new guns and stuff, but I'd kinda like ta make next month's rent, ya know? How about 2,000? I was at da bar to get a line on some employment, ya know? Now dat ain't gonna happen. Dat don't change da fact dat I need ta make some cred. Seem reasonable?"

Los Locos Basement, The Barrio
Friday 08/15/70 1:09:00

"That is reasonable," Carla answered. "Consider the equipment and healthcare as upfront payment. You will receive your money after completion of the mission. As for the rest of you, I'll try to meet you back here within an hour. You know how to reach me if you must."

Los Locos´ Basement, The Barrio, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Friday 08/15/70 12:52:00
Krait – House inspection
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 1), Moai offline

John cast another look at the gate. It was closed and no traffic was going in or out. The carefully sculpted node still showed no sign of distress or traps. After observing the construct for the better part of the night, the elf´s powerful agent easily pointed him at it´s week spot. He double-checked his icon once more, to make sure, it matched the systems metaphor and then strode in casually and unhindered by the massive looking teak wood doors, as the sophisticated maglocks identified him as an admin-level programmer with the wave of a blank proximity card key.

Stepping into the hallway, the intruding hacker took cover behind a large potted plant, while he checked the security panel at the wall for any alert, but found none. The only legit tenant of this place, called Sophie, was apparently absent at the moment and the house had registered no other entries. The list of the nodes subscribtions turned out to be very long. Including gear he had found on the dead Hispanic in the active list, but also a huge number of items he had not seen, which were not currently linked. The latino´s drone-modified bike was among the subscriptions, as well, but John decided to deal with that later. When he was reasonably sure, that there was no imminent danger, he took a look around the house. It was configured like a beautiful villa on a coast somewhere. All the decor, however, seemed to have been painstakingly depersonalized. Ultra-modern and kind of bland, to avoid that no clue about the user could be gleaned from the architecture. He was quick to find the houses central security terminal. After searching it for any booby-traps, he accessed it, to create two additional hidden admin accounts for himself and freeze all original user privileges, to make sure he would stay undisturbed. Sitting down in the comfortable desk-chair, he checked out the nodes software library, before picking up the home communication interface to scroll through the address-book. He did not intend to spend more then a few minutes, to sift through the comlinks content, but at least wanted to take a quick look for anything interesting or informative.

Los Locos Basement, The Barrio
Friday 08/15/70 1:10:00

"Dat sounds great doc," Jack replied. "Before you leave could you let me in on what da mission is? Could be helpful ta know what I'm dealin' with, ya know?"

Hope there ain't no more a dat spirit drek. Dat was downright embarassin' he thought.