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BishopMcQ
August 3, 2064:Seattle

Nearly a month has passed since you turned Ulick over to Dorian and the council. For the last two days, Seattle has been locked in an unseasonable storm. The weather has cooled considerably and the rain settled into fog and sleet. Unseasonable weather has stricken across the globe and is believed to be a temporary side effect of polar manastorms shifting tradewinds.

You have begun to formulate plans of action on how to persist in hunting the Templars. In a few hours you are to meet with each other and finalize those actions. Information and reconaissance on Monsignur Leng and Father Roberts has proven inconclusive. Neither has been involved in secular affairs since you began watching.

Crash has not been spotted since the incident Downtown.
Redjack
Sunday, August 3rd, 2064; Thompson Apartments, Seattle

Martin, Michael, Derrick, Fredrick, Samuel, Habib, Donald, Don, Bob, Robert.... each name, and a multitude of others, walked through his dream headed off to their lives and each one had his face.

He woke with a start, but somehow managed not to awaken her. Lying there in the early morning hours, the light gloomy from the unending storm, several moments are spent simply gazing upon her creamy skin and flowing red hair. Finally, he slides out of the bed and heads off to the bathroom as she continues to sleep. I should just stay in bed. How could there possibly be anything in this day that makes me want to be anyplace else?

But he continues to bathroom none the less. The cold water splashed on his face brings him farther out of the morning stupor and after brushing his teeth he realizes he is too much awake to go back to bed. Like it or not, a new day is here.

He slips into his clothes and gives her a gentle kiss good-bye before slipping out the door. Someday I will slip out for several days and find I have no one to slip back with.. he thinks with a subdued sigh.

As he steps out of the crummy little apartment building and under an awning facing the street he wonders, "Why does she stay in this neighborhood? She has the skills to earn the 'yen to live in a really nice neighborhood.. But he knows that is not her way. As much as their commonalities keep them together, these little differences keep them apart as well.

As he hails a cab, he waves good-bye to Martin and says hello to Michael. Of course this is all done figuratively. Martin is his true name, but in all Seattle, only she knows that. Michael is the man he became long before arriving in Seattle and the primary identity he has created for himself. He has been many people over the past few years.. some mornings he wakes up unsure of what to name to say hello to in the mirror's reflection.....

Buddha72
The pose holds her body suspended on a single point of her foot, she feels the tension build and her muscles begins to slowly ache. With a deep breath she pushes aside the discomfort and concentrates on holding the pose as long as possible. She can feel the shift in her own center of gravity as the time stretches on and her body protests the abuse of the situation. The area arround appeats to be a lush and overgrown garden or greenhouse. The distant sounds of a go-gangers seems at odds with her surroudings.

Gellawyn's remains serene and clear as her body burns with liquid pain racing along her limbs. She watches the chronometer in her field of vision as the minutes tick by. I will do 10 more minutes then before. That single thought continues to thrum through her mind and as the display finally reaches the mark, she collapses to the grass allowing her body to shake and spawm from the strain. Staring up through the leaves she tries to get the control back and slowly her limbs quiet and her breathing returns to normal.

She picks herself up and pauses, taking a minute to enjoy HIS garden before moving to the back area where she and Kraxus live, a small room devoid of most personal touches. She heads for the shower while reviewing the plans for the rest of the day. Somewhere Kraxus is pursuing his own regime of discipline and conditioning. Her heart skips at the unbidden image of his graceful and muscled back, the skin welcoming with a light sheen of sweat. She turns the shower colder and takes the image, along with so many others and locks it away deep within herself. The fear gnaws at her that HE will find them in her mind or worse yet already knows but she knows on other purpose or life than this one. She feels the focus return and the silent dread descend as she dresses for the day.

Now she must wait and see what the day brings.
Fenris
The scarred and pitted floor of the small concrete room made a constant whispering sound under his feet as he moved across the small area, each step carrying him through the forms of the exercise. His shoulder's ached with the familiar exertion, and he held the long blade high over his head, a pause in the form, and began the rest of his regimen.

The sounds that occasionally filtered in through the rock dropped away suddenly as a veil of silence descended. He paused for only a moment, and then stretched out with his will, feeling a similar ache as he extended himself, controlling the flows while summoning and weaving new ones. A light blue field surrounded him, the armor spell triggering unbidden memories of the parking structure, and the spike of fear that accompanied the troll turning the shotgun on her.

His body trembled from the exertion, and he let the memory and his feelings for her be swept safely away, safely down inside as he added a third spell, the hissing and sizzling of the concrete beneath his feet blocked by the magic of the silence spell even as the roiling and bubbling aura of acid layered itself over him, eating away in small bits and pieces at even the reinforced concrete beneath his feet. His features shifted and blurred, even as his whole body shook, threatening to drop the blade as he added yet a fourth spell, taking on the appearance of Ulik, face turned up in a righteous sneer.

With a clatter the weighted practice sword hit the floor, his body following not soon after as the spells rapidly unraveled. He lay there for several minutes, satisfied with the mornings exertion. Casting and maintaining the fourth spell had taken almost everything he had, but holding that many simultaneously had been necessary before, and might be again.

He retrieved the practice sword and headed out of the room, anxious to begin to hunt those that had plagued his people for so long. Finally, they were taking the aggressive stance, striking against the Templars instead of reacting to their actions. It would be a good day.
HeySparky
Sunday, August 3rd, 2064; Stormview Apartments, Everett

Edana wakes up with a gasp. Cold. Shivering. Shards of a nightmare lingering. Heart beating rapidly. Her palid, lanky body is pebbled with gooseflesh and clammy with sweat. Herne lifts his head from his paws and looks at her. Impassiveness gapes like a canyon in the link between Hound and Huntress. His glowing golden eyes blink once.

I gave up after you threw the covers off the last time.

She nods in acknowledgement, sitting up to rub at bleary eyes. "I feel like I've been pulled through a knothole backwards."

Edana feels a sudden fan of affection welling out towards Herne. It's nice to have someone to greet her in the morning. Even if that someone is an unfathomable and sometimes insufferable ancient spirit of The Hunt. Nonetheless, she doesn't always remember to appreciate it.

Don't mention it. Herne gets up and phases through the door off to harass the apartment's resident hearth spirit in his morning rounds.

Edana sits forward putting her face in her hands and carefully picks the fragments of the nightmare from her psyche and puts them back in the scary box in her brain labeled clearly 'Do Not Open.' The gleeful Pandora of her subconscious mind would have its fun again, but not until tomorrow night. She sits back, flipping long white hair out of her face with a sigh and sits quietly looking around the apartement. A presence throbs at her from the bed. The Focus... It is coiled neatly under her pillow. She feels its throb in her bones. Tonight, she thinks at it. Her thoughts are swallowed along the link she share with the focus. Pulled hungrily from her mind. The throbbing subsides.

Tonight. She leans forward again. Tonight she would meet with Kraxus and Gellawyn. But she needed to talk to Townshend again. Their relationship had been strained since Edana had confronted Townshend about what it seemed like he'd known about her past. What it seemed like he'd known, but hadn't thought to share with her. She was still angry that he would have set her up like that. Another - minority - part of her brain was more rational - she wouldn't have trusted the revelations of the past month from any other vector than personal experience.

All roads pointed toward the Templars. Her work for the Brotherhood. For herself. For her parents. The work they all shared in different ways - if she let herself be dramatic and let herself believe the Brotherhood's scholars - her birthright... The Templars held secrets that she had to know.

Crash had vanished right off the map. Edana kept her ears out for rumors of him, of white hats and black hats and gray hats. But nothing... Michael had lapsed into a quiet repose that looked like rest not responding to mechanical, medical or magical stimulus. He was broken. No amount of searching had turned up anything useful about known Templar operatives in Seattle. Every lead was turning into a dead end. Maybe Seattle wasn't the Emerald That Was Not An Emerald after all. Or maybe it was. Edana couldn't be sure.

She knew one thing for certain.

It was time for breakfast.
BishopMcQ
Sunday, August 3rd, 2064--1930; Ballard

The day brings with it an assortment of moments, some of sorrow and some of joy. You have been gathering the last few things you need before meeting. This time would be different. Each would arrive with their purpose known and their eyes open.

After scouring the matrix, there are still no allusions to a meeting. Unlike last time there will be no unexpected guests, only the three who have hunted and one who is known to them. If Crash is watching for you, an entrance like last time would not work.

The storm breaks just as the base of the sun touches the horizon, entering the gloaming.

Martin
The day has been spent finalizing minute details, and looking at the meet site where you are standing now. Slave to the Needle a tattoo parlor that began in the darkest days with guitar wire and an answering machine motor, now offers fully customizable nano-tattoos and for the traditionalist punk a wide selection of inks ranging from standard colors to bioluminescent materials. Rumor has it that they can even offer tattoos and scarification mods that utilize magnetic materials designed to jam internal 'ware and scramble headware memory.

From here, there are four primary exit paths that you have mapped out, in case your contact wasn't on the up and up. The site was well-chosen, giving you plenty of choices and judging by the number of people who stop in front of shops looking at displayed artwork, a small gathering of people wouldn't be noticed.

Elves
The subtle architect of everything around you, He has kept you both busy today. Separated from each other physically, but carrying the bond that thrums between the three of you. All that you are and would become is because of him and the Tir. The Tir needs you, and though you would never meet most of its citizens, nor would they know of your existence, their safety showed your love of them and their contentment showed their love for you.

At His discretion, the gangers didn't take you to the meeting tonight. Instead, Gellawyn drove. No one mentioned the closeness that would be required by sharing the motorcycle.

You drive down the street looking for Edana's Brumby or a sighting of the huntress herself, meeting with the new member of your hunt.

Edana
An answering machine takes the call at the second ring when you try to reach Townshend. For a few seconds, you hesitate not sure of what the words are to close the gap between you both. Leaving a message for him to call you, you hang up the phone.

Later when you leave the apartment, his truck is resting in its traditional spot but the manager unit is closed down tight and uninviting. Making amends will have to wait.

Herne follows behind you, his emotions are as concealed from you as he can. Distant, sensing your own mood. Tonight everything begins again. This time it will be different, you know what your purpose is, you know why you are doing this.

Driving down the streets of Ballard, you are only about twelve blocks from where the accident happened with Michael and the first memorable meeting with Crash. But that was last time...

Ahead of you, you spot the other Michael. Townshend had introduced you back before the fight, he had no love for the Templars and was going to assist you in the coming hunt.

The time has come, now you must simply strut and fret your hour upon the stage.
Redjack
Sunday, August 3rd, 2064--1930; Ballard
Martin "Red" O'Malley; SIN=Max Smith

Red parked the sedan a few blocks away. This neighborhood wasn't his normal hang out and he wanted to walk a bit before arriving at the meet. The armor jacket was a bit heavy for this time of year, but it helped even more to conceal his Ares that rested in the under arm holster. It also provided pockets for the smaller drones.

The fly-spy was already out and verifying alternate exit points should they be needed. Everything had seemed a little cloak-n-dagger up to this point... just the way he liked it. The minute everyone gets too cozy in planning these things is the minute someone either ends up dead or pinched by the Star...

He walked among the artwork, fitting in as best as possible. He may not know diddly about art, but to his mind most of this drek was not it... Now... Where is my contact..?
HeySparky
Sunday, August 3rd, 2064--1930; Ballard

Edana and Herne make the last turn off the highway to the narrower streets of Ballard. Herne takes off on his reconaissance run without waiting to be asked, teeth baring in a hound's grin as he heads into the storm.

Edana parks the brumby on the street and feeds the meter off a certified credstick. The brumby's security thrums to life as she steps away from the curb. Herne rejoins her after his loop and falls into step alongside her. She saunters down the street looking curiously into the windows of the shops, her nature and the foci she carries hidden by mysteries learned from the Heirs. She keeps an eye out for the man Townshend said she would meet.
Redjack
Sunday, August 3rd, 2064, 19:31; Ballard
Martin "Red" O'Malley; SIN=Max Smith

Red spots his contact; He'd met her before with Townshend. He knew tonight was important. It is his chance to... well for lack of a better word interview with her crew. Word is they were good.. and that they were tight.

He moved the fly-spy around and at an altitude of two stories up. As she approached he wasn't able to locate anyone covering her. He continued to watch her through the drone's eyes while pretending to look at artwork. Townsend said he provided a solid recommendation.. But that doesn't mean they won't test me here...

Buddha72
Feeling the tug of wind along her form, Gellawyn weaves the bike through the sluggish traffic of the city. She feels the sublte joy of the machine and the power it imparts. The tingle of the mana woven around her and the slight strain of holding the flows rests in the back of her mind as she makes her way to the meeting spot. With a few more turns and a roundabout route through the side streets they arrive a short walk from the location. Parking the bike out of sight and arming the alarm system she looks to Kraxus for any last minute instructions.
HeySparky
Edana moves down the block and closes the distance between she and Red with long strides. A dark longcoat flutters with the speed of her passage, opening to reveal glimpses of long pants in a dark brown and a gray knit shirt with a scooped neck. A twisted, light-sucking curve of a black metal torc circles her neck, ends capped with a red, earthy stones. Her white hair is cut shorter than when he last saw, just past her shoulders now, straight and loose. It catches the air, flaring and slipping past the winding horns that spring from behind her temples and sweep back. A raggedy straw hat is pulled down low, her eyes shaded by dark glasses that make her pale skin more striking. Her thin lips pull into a smile as she draws closer.

"Red. How are you?"

Herne. Bring the elves.

Bring them what?

Herne...

You used to be fun.

You used to be funny.


The spirit sends a flirt of feigned ire down the link between them and dashes off to where he was to meet the elves. His hackles raise, as they always do, when he approaches Kraxus' Fuer'yon.
Redjack
Sunday, August 3rd, 2064, 19:31; Ballard : Martin "Red" O'Malley; SIN=Max Smith

Martin turns towards the woman, taking a moment. As she smiles, he relaxes and allows a small smile himself. Perhaps it will go this easy... "Wonderful. And yourself?" ...nah.

He kept his link with the fly-spy looking around for the others. If the rumors are true, she doesn't really even need back up.
Fenris
He needs say nothing. Closer then siblings, bound by ties stronger then blood, communication was often extraneous and redundant. It still comforted him, in some small way, to have her presence in the back of his mind when possible.

As they neared the outlet of the alleyway where the bike was parked mana shivered around them, gathered by the softly spoken words in Sprethirel. As they moved through pools of light formed by lights behind bars and closed businesses, their forms flickered. In one pool, the elves walked in light armored vests, bow slung over Gellawyn's shoulder, the handle of the Kraxus's claymore visible over his. In the next pool of light, gangers walked in ripped armored jackets, chains wrapped around waists and spiked gloves covering hands. The features were subtly different, similar enough to be recognizable if you knew what you were looking for, but different enough to throw off casual looks and distort descriptions later. The gangers carried no other obvious weapons, but the womans close cut mohawk and the mans cybernetic horns gave them the impression of savageness.

A brief moment allowed him to tap into the world that lived around and below the surface world, teeming with spirits and natural magical entities. A brief supplication and request, and the eyes of people seemed to slide off Gellawyn, Kraxus, and the bike they'd left behind.

He reached out as they continued to walk, gentling touching and then settling a small portion of his conciousness into a link between Gellawyn and himself, repressing the small sense of satisfaction he felt as the link was re-established.

In the astral, the wolf paces around the hound, hackles raised, the animosity between them evident and unabated by time or distance.

He sniffed once, and turned, a brief tendril of thought touching Kraxus' mind and turning the pair of elves in Hernes direction.
Buddha72
"It appears our friend is here and waiting." Gellawyn takes the lead and motions for the Herne to lead the way.
BishopMcQ
Elves
With the hound leading the way, you quickly see the street where Edana is speaking to a man dressed in an unseasonably heavy coat. He cuts a fairly trim figure and speaks with the relaxed air of someone meeting a passing acquaintance.

Red
With your attention half-focused on the burgeoning conversation and otherwise watching the feedback from your drone, you catch the appearance of two gangers. They seem focused on you and your companion, though surprisingly unarmed. The hint of an irish wolfhound plays at the edges of your peripheral vision but when turning, you don't see anything.
Redjack
Red takes note of the approaching gangers, but continues his conversation with Edna, "I think we may have trouble coming our way. I think we've caught someone's attention."

He moves the fly-spy around to get a better look at the two approaching.
Fenris
Kraxus squints suspiciously at the pair, giving a curt nod of acknowledgment to Edana as he affects a rough street slang.

"'aint you two needin' ta be getting on somewheres?" he growls, thumbs hooked in his pockets.
Buddha72
Gellawyn takes on the posture of a razor girl ready to throw down like one of the boys. She openly sweeps her eyes up and down the new player, looking him like a piece of meat on the market. Her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes.
Redjack
Red tries to stay relaxed as the gangers move around them. The fly-spy affords him a perfect view of the duo... and he dares not underestimate either of them. He thinks back to the unarmed self-defense class he took.... Oh hell!! I never showed up to that class.... Too much work involved...

He looks to Edana for a queue.....
BishopMcQ
Team

Edana looks to Herne and then the gangers.

"Yeah....uh, I do think we have somewhere to be right now. Come on."

She signals for Red to follow her off the street away from the gangers and in the direction of the meeting place. A few blocks over the two of them come upon a rundown building where several squatters have been living. Scorch marks of a man with large wings are burned through the front door.

As you approach the building, the two gangers come from a different alleyway. With each step closer to the meeting spot, they become more familiar and less street oriented.

"Krax, Gell, this is Red. Red these are the other two I mentioned. Let's head inside and we'll talk."
Fenris
Kraxus nods politely at Red, stepping into the building just behind the pair. His gait is smooth, measured, and perfectly in sync with Gellawyn's.

Fuer'yon, check the building, let us know if anything besides us is in here.

A brief glimmer of the wolf's form is visible before it lopes off, rapidly moving through syth-crete and plastic to check rooms and floors, searching for the tell-tale sign of anything alive.
Redjack
Red looks the duo over a little.. Yea... I knew they was the other two on the crew... errr... Ok, I do now.. Note to self: anticipate surprises from this team...

Seeing the rest of the team moving in and sweeping the area, Red does his best to just not get in the way... I think next to these guys there's not much I can do but get in the way... He moves the fly-spy around the perimeter, moving it out just a little not sure about the senses of the man given the spiritual wolf form he just witnessed.
HeySparky
Edana's chest clenches when she sees the outlined figure burnt into the floor. Why here. The whip under her coat is palpably eager. Bloodthirstiness beats at her, seductive tugs that well up in her... power and glory.

She calls the others to her, "Quickly now, before anyone gets curious," she holds out her hands to be held and calls Herne to her side. Herne manifests, appearing as a tall, powerfully, white hound with a broad, with a blunt-jawed head and glowing eyes. The eyes gleam intelligently as he regards the others. When everyone has joined hands in a circle she murmurs to the Hound. Hide us.

Blindness. Not-ness. Edana squeezes the hands in her own, and grounds herself back into reality. The forms of the others under Herne's glamor shimmer into view. Unsettling.

"Don't let go," she whispers, grinning.
Redjack
Red looks around at all the mumbo jumbo, but continues to hold hands. Jeepers, creepers.. This stuff gives me the Willies...

He clenches his hands a little tighter as the white hound appears. Despite the team's apparent control of the supernatural, he'd seen the trids where the smallest defect in a summoning circle caused the summoner to be dragged off to the seventh level of hell.... An he didn't even see a circle here....
Buddha72
Gellawyn raises a single eyebrow as the group begins to fade from view. An open question on her face to Edana as she speaks. "It seems your companion has learned a few new tricks since the last time.." Her voice has none of the rough quality one would expect from a street thug or ganger, there is a tonal quality that hints to English not being her native language.
HeySparky
Edana shifts from one foot to the other, "He surprises me often. I was just a girl when I summoned him, and I didn't at the time fully understand what I did. Or myself. He may have more secrets than even this."

Her pale face clouds momentarily, "But Herne's secrets aren't why we're here. Any news of the Templars?"
Fenris
The cultured tones that mark the male elf's speech put him clearly from somewhere besides the Barrens as well.

"We have several leads. The question is, in which way do we strike at the Templars next? We can attack their resources by going after informants and contacts they have here in the city, and erasing those connections they've made through blood, bribery, and extortion or looking into their land deals.

We can bolster our own resources by contacting the people that the Templars want dead, or the group that is fighting against them.

Or we can gain more information by contacting the two clerical members directly, or this other organization.

My suggestion would be to start be removing their resources here in Seattle. There are enough movers and shakers here that, combined with the unusual amount of significant activity based here, makes it a bad location for the Templars to have a firm foundation in. It also gives us a chance to increase our own resources at their expense, a tried and true tactic in any guerrilla warfare. "
BishopMcQ
Team
Under the protective cover of the spirit, you move into the building where your voices won't carry to interested parties. Not much has changed since the fateful night passed. A dark brown stain of congealed blood lays across the floor.

Fuer'yon returns after finding no one within the shattered building. He stalks along the outside of the circle of hands, his hackles raised in the presence of the wolfhound.
Redjack
Red listens as each of the team members talk in turn. At the mention of the resources of the Templars, he suppresses a grin and runs through his head about how this team may be able to finance their operation. One thought leads to another and he reflects on the conversation just a few weeks back that brought him to this whole mess.....

Martin could immediately tell something was wrong when he walked into the small apartment. Becki had been crying, the signs were all over her face. "Little Jimmy and Marky were found dead today. Executed. Coins in their eyes... Who would do such a thing?"

The boys were young, but had amazing potential. He understood occasionally the wilder or younger Otuka children would cross someone and get killed, but coins in there eyes? What kinda dren is that? "Who? What the hell for?"


The research had started bringing them to details about a mysterious group called the Templars. They were somehow aligned to the church.

He looks to Kraxus, "Redistribution of wealth. That's a noble cause I can get motivated about.... and I sure am ready to put these guys out of business."
HeySparky
Edana's face goes blank, but the cloudy swirls under her skin belie the woman's unease. Her eyes are locked on the bloody stain. Are evil deeds made good by righteousness... that's what the Templars would say. Of themselves. How are we better than they? Are we better?

Yes, comes Herne's reply, it is spiked with a scent of metal and blood, You hunt the Templars for evils they have done, not the evils you fear they might do.

A bloody bodiless head rolls up to her feet, eyes dull with disease and death. Ballefour.

Herne, through his link feels the familar lash of Edana'sguilt. Release him, Edana. You do not have the luxury of regret. Not any more.

"What do we know of their network in the city?"

Atta girl.

Shut up.
Fenris
"Primary points of contact consist of Monsigneur Leng and Father Roberts. They are also tied into a number of other lesser people, including several members of Humanis and IRA members.

There are also a number of extortions, blackmails, etc that I assume they are using to generate funds or influence.

Our first target should be to expose these situations however possible to remove them as resources for the Templars.

I believe the Templar sympathizers have a certain amount of wealth," and he glances towards Red with a nod "that needs to be redistributed."

"Last, but not least, Monsigneur Leng and Father Roberts should be paid a visit. Being the Templars primary contacts, I believe they should have the best information on where to look next."
Buddha72
"At this point we require a definite plan of action so I suggest deciding our course from this point so we can steps. The longer we remain inactive the more likely it is they will respond to our interference thus far. I would hate to see these men become lost as the Templars try to hinder our good works." Gellawyn moves as she talks, looking over the perimeter of the room.
HeySparky
Edana looks at the elves flatly, "Just what is entailed in 'paying someone a visit?'" In her head the image of Gellawyn raising her bow, drawing, firing and killing a ganger named Crisis. Right here.

She says it was mercy. Edana says it was murder.

Fenris
Kraxus looks to the group.

"So, those are the two that I think will provide the best returns in a short period. We'll contact the general and Yamoto and set up meetings.

Any questions?"
Redjack
To this point Red has been quiet. New kid on the block and all that jazz.. Now time to see if he passes test #1. Understanding the strands of the spiderweb.

"Unless I miss the mark, the first run is to try to strike a deal Yamato to make Ulik and Ulik's info disappear. Once a deal is struck, you all deal with the wet work and I take care of the electrons...?"
Fenris
"Actually, the hard parts already done. But its recent enough we're betting nobody else knows that.

We'll need a place to stash stuff and sleep. Anyone have any suggestions on safe houses?"
Redjack
Red smiles. He'd been standing here as useless as a wort on your butt, but he had this one. "I actually am familiar with quite a few. In my line of work, it pays to not only have a secure place to work from, but occasionally one to hide out at to insure I wasn't traced or made. Are we looking for comfortable in the middle of the nightlife or locked down in the Barrens?"
BishopMcQ
::Sunday, August 3rd, 2064--2040; Renton::

After bouncing a few neighborhoods around, your team settles on a safehouse in northern Renton. The area to the south is middle to upper middle class residential, to the north the Redmond Barrens. Balancing the crime rates between the two areas has called for several heavy handed responses from law enforcement agencies, but as long as you keep our nose clean the area is quiet.

Certified cred secures a small detached garage that has been converted to a guest house. Private access from the rear of the building and sound-proof walls will keep everything short of an explosion from rolling to the front house. The owner with a full arm of chrome doesn't ask questions as he takes the credstick.

Walking the small building, you find an open studio with a bed, data-terminal and mini-kitchen. The kitchen offers a table for two in a breakfast nook, lacking the traditional windows. Squeezed into one corner is a bathroom with sonic shower.
Redjack
Red looks over the modest accommodations. He doesn't say anything but the curl of his lip and tilt of his eyebrow betray that he is used to much finer living. The four of us crammed in there? Even the dive Becki lives in is more accommodating.... I sure hope no one gets a sour stomach during this run. Close quarters and no windows won't mix well with that.

Looking at the rest of the crew, he realizes they're the die-hard types that probably find this a step up from some of the dives they hang out in. Perhaps I've gotten soft...? Nah.. Just... refined...

He brings in a deck case with a deck that has a Fairlight Excaliber emblem in the corner. Not only is it a knock off, it also has no guts. The internal is really a straight through connection, but it keeps people from finding out the truth about his abilities and cuts down the questions. He also brings in a hanging bag of clothes and backpack with his Ingram. Sometimes these things just get messy.

He looks to the bed, the three of them, back to the bed, then back to them. "I guess a few cots are in order?"
Fenris
Kraxus glances at Red, and then motions to Gellawyn. "She'll be handling physical security and the details of the arrangement of the safehouse."
HeySparky
Still don't know what they mean by 'paying someone a visit... Edana looks around the spare room and bites at one of her fingernails. Their chromed host had given her the willies and Redjack's casual mention of wetwork hadn't reassured her either. She feared that wetwork was exactly what Kraxus had meant with his 'visiting.' She was still profoundly uncomfortable with the ease with which the people she'd fallen in with trivialized what ammounted to murder in her eyes.

Dawn Morgan... echoes of her last screams' reverberating shards frequently woke Edana in a cold sweat. Yamato. It seemed highly unlikely that a procurer like him could help her discover the secrets of Eirias, but if he had a thread to reveal that would lead her to Templars who might know something of the blade, then she would 'pay him a visit.' And if the man that turned Dawn Morgan over to her gruesome fate had some hard questions to answer... that was okay by Edana.

Right on, sister.

Herne, if you never say that again, it will be too soon.

Why you gotta be up in my kool-aid?

Seriously, Herne. Do you even know what you're saying?

No. Herne makes another loop around the property, seeking out the main house's hearth spirit to assess what sort of rapport the two might have. What's kool-aid?

No idea. You almost done? I want to properly introduce you to Red.

Herne sends an affirmative wave rippling along the link between he and his mistress.
Buddha72
Looking around, Gellawyn takes a moment to just look over the space. As she begins to pace off the walls and construct the mental map of the safe house she speaks to Kraxus. "Decide the approach we want to take in contacting there 3rd parties. I will secure this place as much as possible."
Fenris
"Red, I'm going to assume you'll be handling most of our communications? The first thing we need to do is get messages to both Yamato and Lodgepole. Make sure it's hard enough to trace that hopefully they won't bother.

With Yamato, let him know that we know about Ulik and the information he had on the metahumans, and that we'd like to meet to make a deal regarding getting rid of his problem. Set the meet in Mafia controlled territory in Tacoma. That should limit the amount of people he brings with him and the scene he might cause.

With Lodgepole, let him know we have the information we need, and we've made sure we're the only people in possession of it. Make sure he knows we're willing to accept a downgrade in the price for the item. Arrange a time and place for a meet. With the general, set the meet location in the Eye of the Needle. It's a little public, but he won't try anything with the heavy hand of the military.

Edana, can you visit our landlord and make sure he's not in the process of setting us up? If you could drop a watcher spirit on him to make sure, that would be best. "

The elf seems to have stepped surely and confidently into the role of leader. His requests have just enough rising intonation to soften the obvious ring of orders given by someone that expects to be obeyed.
Redjack
Red nods to Kraxus before heading outside to get his gear from the car. He returns to the little house with a deck case and a sports chair; The kind that fold up into a bag . This one is a full lounger though providing Martin a place to lounge back and run the matrix no matter what slum flop he find himself in for a hard line. The case was another matter. It contains a Fairlight Excalibur. Or at least the keypad for one. The insides was gutless, except for a patch threw.

Red took a moment to set up his chair near the hard line connection, then took out the deck, feigning reverence. He had a game to play to keep the streets from learning the truth about his abilities.

Once situated, he connected the deck to his data jack via the neon optic cable and then the deck to the wall with a second. In a moment he was fully immersed into the grid. The first step was to spoof his LTG connection, making it appear as though he was connected from the Pizza Team delivery substation on Capitol Hill, Downtown Seattle. Once that was complete, he compiled a helper. Jeffrey. I think I'll call him Jeffrey. This child of the matrix. Jeffrey looked like a pimple faced 16 year old, but he was more than that. He was more powerful than most hackers on the planet... and he was compiled for three tasks.

The next thing on his list was to actually hack the Pizza Team Headquarters site. After threading up his exploit form, he calls Jeffrey for his first service to assist in the exploit. The goal is an admin account. Once that is established, he can use this node as a launch point for other exploits.
BishopMcQ
Red

Pizza Team Headquarters' node is distributed similarly to an actual restaurant. You punch through the wall leading near the kitchen and into the private section. Here the kitchen and management offices are segmented into different fields. Thus far no one seems to be alerted to your presence.
Redjack
Inside the node and operating with admin access, Red starts by releasing the threading on his exploit, threading up his edit and altering his icon to appear as a management icon. He moves through the node to an office to give him a moment to work and access the security subsystems.

Once there, his task is to create three separate access accounts, modifying the database and logs to make them each appear to have been created at different times and by different existing admins. The first account an assistant manager, the second a driver and the third a janitor on medical leave. He then creates a back door access into the system. Perhaps overkill, but if they find any of my holes I hopefully will have several more to choose from.

Now with a base of operations and a node from which to cascade out to the matrix from Martin looks for his next target. He hated to hit several systems so fast, but he was sticking with low threat systems to minimize the chances of being detected. He chose a mom-n-pop stuffer shack called Bob's Quick Stop in the Sumner neighborhood of Auburn.

This time, he started by threading up his stealth. Can't get caught on this. It'd look way bad to screw up this early. He then cascaded back out to the matrix and towards Bob's. En route he reverts his icon back to that of the stock icon Twinkie, a pink rabbit favored by ten to twelve year old girls this month.

At Bob's, Jeffrey and he begin their work on the node.
BishopMcQ
Red

The firewall to the main node is like pressing through so much tissue paper. Glancing around the general store, there are patches of darkness that absorb the light into them. Here and there you can see matrix edits where script kiddies have tagged the interior of the system showing that they were there.

Gellawyn

Walking the lines of the building, the most obvious security threats are that you have no eyes outside. Anyone moving quietly could be upon the small cottage before you were aware of them. Several of the panels have obviously been replaced in the walls, hinting less at surveillance equipment and more to shoddy repair from a landlord who doesn't expect complaints.

You slowly clear your mind and begin the task of erecting the ward. Soft humming of a song you can never consciously remember reverberates through your body as the wall builds up. Hours tick by as your will stretches out in one of the few ways you can exert direct control on the mana that your companion weaves with such ease.

Finally done, you have a headache promising to become so much more but the task is complete.
Redjack
Once he slices through the defenses of Bob's Quick Stop, he is almost saddened by the state of the node. No doubt, the salesman assured them that this was state of the art and would protect them from all matrix attacks. So much for that promise.

After threading up his edit form, the first step is to create a predated admin account. The next is to update the patches on the system. He always hates a system being so trashed simply due to a lack of current updates. Given the state of the node, the owners would never even be aware that it had occurred. Next he goes about cleaning out the fake admin accounts and back doors into the system.

Once those are done he goes back to his real work. Next step is a create a new email account: Enemy of my Enemy. He then cascades out to a free email service momentarily to create a new email account there. By creating the account from here, rather than just creating a new shell from the safe house, he foils any tracking forcing them to track back through the nodes to find him.

The next subsystem subjected to his alteration is the spam filter. He flags all email directed to Enemy of my Enemy as spam, but buries a subroutine that repackages and forwards those emails to the generic account.

He then sends the emails to Yamato and Lodgepole as directed. Then, his final edits on the node are to remove all log traces of his presence and activities.

En route back through the matrix to Pizza Team's HQ, he restores his icon to that of a Pizza Team manager. His presence in the node is momentary, just enough to exit the system he had been using as a launch point for his assault on Bob's Quick Stop.

Exiting the matrix, Red sits up in safe house. He looks around, a full forty-five seconds had passed. I'm getting rusty. I should have been done in less than half the time... Patching the system took seventy five percent of that time....

Looking to Kraxus, "The messages have been sent as you directed."
BishopMcQ
Several hours pass by as Gellwayn builds the protective wards around the house. Small probes into the main house where your landlord is currently residing, shows that there is a minimal astral presence within. Watchers spread throughout the two-bedroom affair and listen for signs that the landlord is planning betrayal but do not report any.

Yamato responds that he will meet you tonight at midnight on the Angel's Kiss, docked at Pier 19. You are to come alone and unseen by the locals.

Lodgepole declines the meeting as requested. He offers safe passage across the border into Tsimshian territory and a meeting face to face, the same deal he had with the previous info broker.
Redjack
Periodically checking for replies, Red provides them shortly after they arrive. Angel's Kiss...? Hmmm... Confined on a ship. Sounds like not a job for me. Martin begins checking online for maps of the area, preferably recent satellite photos to get a lay of the land.
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