Busta Kaps - Ork Underground, April 1st, 2071, 7:19 AM

Sidling next to Scab, Dancer speaks sotto voice, "Might want to reign it it now, Scab. You've made your point, but I don't think we want to see what lots and lots of people with guns consider 'sanctions'."

Dancer nods at Mongol's comment. "Yes, it is a stupid rule. But we're not really here for these games, anyway. We're here to meet Ivan, and if I'm right, that door might be where he wants us to go."

As the group works its way closer to the Standing and Firing Target, she surreptitiously beckons for the others to follow her, as she approaches the door, opening it enough to be able to glance inside. If it's not the meet, she can always say she thought it was the bathroom, or something.

Busta Kaps - Ork Underground, April 1st, 2071, 7:19 AM

As you look in the door you see a long meeting table set into a large meeting equipped room.

You will note the wall of the doorway is about 1 foot in thickness, and the door is well balanced but seems very solid construction.

You see sitting at one end of the meeting table a heavy set figure wearing a brown fedora, smoking a calabash pipe, wearing a dark blue jacket. He is currently blowing smoke rings within smoke rings towards the ceiling.

Busta Kaps - Ork Underground, April 1st, 2071, 7:20 AM

Dancer relaxes slightly as she eases the door open, and lets the others know that it is safe to come in.

It would have to be another smoker, wouldn't it. At least pipe tobacco doesn't smell quite as bad.

Hiding her distaste for the wafting smoke, she takes a seat near Ivan, where she can take the lead in negotiations.

"Ivan the Breaker, I presume? I'm Dancer, although I'm sure you already know who we all are."

Her voice is calm and well-modulated, and she has a slight, pleasant smile on her face. She is poised for some hard negotiating, but she negotiates the way she fights. Let the other person commit the first move, then exploit the opening.

Negotiation is more subtle, though. You win by letting the other person think he's won, and some concessions are more important than the money. If the team can get in the good graces of some of the movers and shakers in the Ork Underground, that will be worth more than squeezing every last bit of spare change out of Ivan. Not that she won't make sure to put a few dents in his wallet.

Busta Kaps - Ork Underground, April 1st, 2071, 7:20 AM

The heavy set figure turns in Glyph's direction. Takes his pipe and sets it down on a holder stand on the conference table. Removes his fedora and puts it onto the table next to his pipe.

"Yes I am he, yes I am familiar with the rest of your team. Come on in and take a seat so we can discuss the business prospect."

He smiles broadly and carefully places both of his hands on to the table top.

The smell in the air does not smell like any pipe smoke most of you have smelled, a dark rich smell with heavy overtones of spicy cinnamon. The air system is quickly removing the smell from the room.

fuggin, krakpot, yai, yai, petunia, pepper pot, k*nts, cthulhu pthagan, bastard, millennium hand n shrimp...

Scab oozes into the room behind Dancer and slides along the wall to the corner where he crouches in the shadows, muttering to himself.

Mongol follows Dancer into the room and eases himself into a chair pulling the clip out of his AK and drawing the bolt back sending the round flying into his hand before arranging everything on the table, a traditional sign among the tribes that he was here to negotiate, not fight. He waits for Ivan to begin the conversation. It is impolite to speak before your host.

Hello, nice to meet you.
Sorry about the fuss at the shooting galery, but i guess gunnery is not what you hire me for anyway.

St. Juste took a seat, pulled out his tobacco and started rolling a cigarette.

So, what exactly is it that you hire us for?

Glitch follows the others. He continues to monitor wireless traffic in case something fishy is going on.

Busta Kaps - Ork Underground, April 1st, 2071, 7:23 AM

Ivan nods as each enter.

Once the door is closed, he looks at each in turn as he speaks.

"I have some work that needs to be undertaken. You all have solid reputations. But this first job is not the only one, others will follow. The work will be varied and interesting."

He pauses to watch everyones reactions or facial expressions if any.

He glances at the rolling of a cigarette, and gives a slight smile.

Busta Kaps - Ork Underground, April 1st, 2071, 7:23 AM

*wheeeezzzeee*

Once everyone had filled into the room, Moe took the seat closest to the door, setting down his still unopened can in front of him. While most of the runners on the team were making themselves comfortable, and turning eyes and ears to Ivan, Mojo was apparently enthralled in his own little time bubble.

*wheeeezzzeee*

One yellow and bloodshot eye inspected the can carefully from all its angles, as if the big troll fear some sort of trick. Reaching inside one of the numerous pockets on his dirtied coveralls, his big three finger hand came out with what looked like a slightly oversized cigarette case.

Setting it down, at exactly 8.5 inches from the can, he opened it with the care and gentle touch one would use with a newborn. Mojo took out a perfectly square and folded exactly 4 times piece of dark red cloth, with which he wiped all the condensation off the can, before wiping the table right under it, and setting the drink back down on the now dry spot.

*wheeeezzzeee*

The cloth was folded back, 4 times on itself, exactly like before. Out of the case now came an almost flat copper looking spoon, which Mojo used a lever to pop the can open... since stubby fingers like his couldn't grasp the flap. He then took the last, and most cherised item out of the case: a bright neon green, spirally straw that curved up and then down at its sipping tip.

*wheeeezzzeee*

Slidding it inside the drink, Mojo made a sort of snorting sound that could have been a kind of giggle. Or some snot covered cry of success and joy. Unwrapping his jaw from the scarf he had been wearing, exposing his extreme underbite, the big troll slipped the straw next to one of his big yellowed and cracked tusk, gently sipping the drink down.

*wheeeezzzeee*

The loud *GULP* his throat made when he swallowed seemed twice as lound in the meeting room.

Busta Kaps - Ork Underground, April 1st, 2071, 7:23 AM

Dancer keeps her slightly friendly poker face on as Ivan begins his sales pitch.

Buttering us up to start with, nice, and now the carrot of a possible long-term arrangement with him. But that doesn't mean it's not a serious offer, assuming we do good on this first job. Makes this deal even more important.

That doesn't mean she won't try to get some decent pay for this job, though. Smiling, she leans forward a bit.

"Well, you picked the right group if you wanted a wide range of jobs done. Assuming the new guys work out for us, and that this first job goes well, I can see us having a nice working relationship. But would you please tell us some more about the immediate job? Once we have some details, I'm sure we'll be able to hammer out an agreement we'll all be happy with."

Other than a brief, fond smile, Dancer ignores Moe, as someone who is used to being around him, and his little idiosyncrasies. It is the two new guys who make her more nervous. They haven't worked with her before. They might chime in with their own demands, or even contradict her, and her bargaining position isn't the strongest in the world to begin with. But she'll deal with it - she's been in more stressful situations and handled them.

Busta Kaps - Ork Underground, April 1st, 2071, 7:24 AM

Lifting his head from his drink, Moe's meat eye started to twitch lightly, as his cybered one started to make some sort of buzzing sound. Like a camera going in a out of focus, except, in a more annoying fashion.

*wheeeezzzeee*

Turning his big square head, it seemed as if, for the very first after setting foot in the room, Moe noticed Ivan at the head of the table. The big troll made a sort of little panicky cry, tucking his head deep between his shoulders and avoiding eye contact with the man.

*wheeeezzzeee**wheeeezzzeee**wheeeezzzeee**wheeeezzzeee*

Moe wasn`t afraid per say for the man. He didn't even know him... at least not in any personal way. He was just starting to feel nervous.

*wheeeezzzeee*

That, and he had just realized he had forgotten, in all this excitement, to give Dancer the watch he had made.

Busta Kaps - Ork Underground, April 1st, 2071, 7:25 AM

Ivan smiles at Dancers words, seems unaffected by Moe's breathing issues or lack of eye contact.

"MY client has a strong need for some supplies. These supplies are in the custody of persons not well favored by most down here. Humanis is one word used to cover the activities of these persons."

Ivan pauses briefly to look at each ones face.

"The shipment is coming from outside this area, to the main holding area or building of Humanis. Part of what your many tasks is to get more detailed information on the shipment. Plan and intercept said shipment, then bring the supplies to a location that I will provide you. The shipment is advanced medical supplies and equipment of very technical nature and sophistication. Said shipment will be guarded and in a secure vehicle. The risks will be beyond average, and so will your compensation."

He looks at Dancer for more words from her, and any comments from the rest.

Beyond average?

St Juste shrugged and leaned forward in his chair.

Any information on what exactly we have to expect?
Not that i'd mind a little challenge, i just like to get some idea of what i'm getting myself into.

Busta Kaps - Ork Underground, April 1st, 2071, 7:26 AM

Dancer seems to become more intense, and focused, as negotiations commence. Planning is not one of her strong points, but even she can follow some of the implications of Ivan's description of the job.

"Okay, so we need to take care of some legwork ourselves, that's fine... we have the people to do that. But we're going to have to get fancy, stopping this shipment. We can't really ram their vehicle, or blow stuff up - this stuff sounds fragile. And we'll be bringing a stolen vehicle back through hostile territory, from the sounds of it. Still doesn't sound like anything we can't handle, but I agree with St. Juste. We can find out things like when the stuff is shipping, and where it goes, but any general information you have could be useful. You've probably been watching these guys, so you should have a good idea how they run this stuff."

She waits for some more details from Ivan, while revving herself up to wrangle out the compensation. She reminds herself that making a good impression is better than getting every last Nuyen out of Ivan, especially for what sounds like a quasi-hooding run.


Negotiation roll for the job:

Mongol nods slowly, though his eyebrows furrow at the mention of Humanis.

"I am sorry... but I'm afraid I am not familiar with this tribe... Humanists. You say they are not favored? I am assuming that your tribe is at war with them?"

Other than the names at least, this is fairly familiar ground for Mongol. The Ork tribes in Mongolia were well known as mercenaries, often being hired by weaker bands to do their fighting for them. He also immediately understands the crucial nature of medical supplies and knows the expense that desperate people are willing to pay in order to acquire them. Still however, he was never the negotiator for his people, and Dancer seems to have things well in hand so apart from his question about the nature of the opposition he remains silent.

Dancer doesn't answer Mongol's question, since he was addressing Ivan, but she raises an internal eyebrow at the level of cultural unfamiliarity that it implies.

She might need to set Mongol straight on a few things if Ivan's answer is incomplete or misleading. But on the other hand, Ivan's answer should provide her with some insight into their erstwhile employer's own mindset.