The Rusty Bar-rel, 7:04 PM August 3rd, 2075
Giving the elf a thumb's up, Jack said, "No sweat, Overkill. You've been working your culo off tracking down things in the Matrix. Without the information you've uncovered, we wouldn't have anything to connect together."
Getting serious, the ork continued, "Both Overkill and Amy bring up a good point though. I think we need to make a decision here about whether we pursue the mystery Johnson if our own Mr. J asks about it. Personally, I find myself agreeing with Overkill here. From the footage we have, it looks like this J is unlikely to come to the UCAS to meet, which is going to make it somewhere between difficult to impossible for us to even get near him. On top of that, assuming our guesses are correct, we'd now be directly fraggin' with an EVO sub, and I feel like they're going to have a lot more resources than the targets we just put down." Rubbing his gut where his bandages were still wound tight, the ork finished, "...and those guys almost had enough resources to put a few of us under."
"If we can clear 18 to 22, I say we take it and wish Mr. J good luck, rest up, lick our wounds, and move on to the next job. We can keep a copy of the data in our back pocket in case the drug situation doesn't go away and see if we can't find someone else who can find a use for it. Maybe that Greeley chica could do something with it."
Full Version: Nothing's Free in the Free Zone (IC)
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The Rusty Bar-rel, 7:04 PM August 3rd, 2075
Amy opened her eyes wide and grinned when the notion of being paid over 20k was brought up. I can finally provide for what Sam deserves, with that kind of money. A good safe home, better clothes, and.. schooling. She really needs to receive a real education, not like what I've got.
Coming back from her day dream, Amy agrees with Jack. "As much as I want to stop all the drek the corps are doing, I want to get my trouble's worth. Grabbing Bradshere is within our means, but I wouldn't go farther than that."
Finishing up her own meal of soychicken nuggets, Amy adds "And if we do get 20k for this job, I'll be more than happy to move on." And she started contemplating all the things she'd like to buy for herself as well. I need more reagents, and maybe get a couple of spirits bound to me. Maybe I could buy what I need to build a little shrine for meditating, and I'll need to buy a Fake SIN for the job too, I wonder how much those are worth. Oh and I get trodes... and fancy lenses... and I should buy something for Hubert, he's been so kind ... and I could look into buy myself some perfume ... and ...
Amy opened her eyes wide and grinned when the notion of being paid over 20k was brought up. I can finally provide for what Sam deserves, with that kind of money. A good safe home, better clothes, and.. schooling. She really needs to receive a real education, not like what I've got.
Coming back from her day dream, Amy agrees with Jack. "As much as I want to stop all the drek the corps are doing, I want to get my trouble's worth. Grabbing Bradshere is within our means, but I wouldn't go farther than that."
Finishing up her own meal of soychicken nuggets, Amy adds "And if we do get 20k for this job, I'll be more than happy to move on." And she started contemplating all the things she'd like to buy for herself as well. I need more reagents, and maybe get a couple of spirits bound to me. Maybe I could buy what I need to build a little shrine for meditating, and I'll need to buy a Fake SIN for the job too, I wonder how much those are worth. Oh and I get trodes... and fancy lenses... and I should buy something for Hubert, he's been so kind ... and I could look into buy myself some perfume ... and ...
The Rusty Bar-rel, 7:05 PM August 3rd, 2075
Grease nodded agreement. "There doesn't seem to be much profit in going after Biogene, certainly not worth the risk to us." Or my drones.
Ordering another round, the handsome elf continued, "As long as Overkill has nice file with our findings on Biogene, I say we stay here, have one or two more drinks, and then head over to get our money." With nods of agreement from the rest of the group, the team sat and relaxed for the first time in several days.
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 8:55 PM August 3rd, 2075
Grease's taxi pulled into the parking lot, with Overkill's bike just behind. Little had changed, the Yakuza goons across the street still postured for any who were watching, the sign above the motel still flickered and went out occasionally, if anything was different it was that the motel was busier than usual, with a few more cars in the lot.
The team went inside, and were greeted with by Jim with his usual lack-luster "Hello." Rubbing his eyes with his fingers, he hands over a key to Room 304 to Jack. "Mr. Smythe is waiting for you." Stifling a yawn, he goes back to whatever latest AR application was tickling his fancy for the moment.
The group headed upstairs to room 304, and Jack pressed the key against he Maglock pad, the lock clicking open. The team went inside and saw Ramirez, looking happier that they had seen him the last couple times. "Glad you could make it. Lynx and crew are in custody, as is Bradshere. Good job. Have you uncovered anything else for me?" He grins broadly as he takes some food out of the mini-bar, then looks at it, sees the date, and puts it back hurriedly.
Grease nodded agreement. "There doesn't seem to be much profit in going after Biogene, certainly not worth the risk to us." Or my drones.
Ordering another round, the handsome elf continued, "As long as Overkill has nice file with our findings on Biogene, I say we stay here, have one or two more drinks, and then head over to get our money." With nods of agreement from the rest of the group, the team sat and relaxed for the first time in several days.
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 8:55 PM August 3rd, 2075
Grease's taxi pulled into the parking lot, with Overkill's bike just behind. Little had changed, the Yakuza goons across the street still postured for any who were watching, the sign above the motel still flickered and went out occasionally, if anything was different it was that the motel was busier than usual, with a few more cars in the lot.
The team went inside, and were greeted with by Jim with his usual lack-luster "Hello." Rubbing his eyes with his fingers, he hands over a key to Room 304 to Jack. "Mr. Smythe is waiting for you." Stifling a yawn, he goes back to whatever latest AR application was tickling his fancy for the moment.
The group headed upstairs to room 304, and Jack pressed the key against he Maglock pad, the lock clicking open. The team went inside and saw Ramirez, looking happier that they had seen him the last couple times. "Glad you could make it. Lynx and crew are in custody, as is Bradshere. Good job. Have you uncovered anything else for me?" He grins broadly as he takes some food out of the mini-bar, then looks at it, sees the date, and puts it back hurriedly.
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 8:55 PM August 3rd, 2075
Jack remained silent while Ramirez congratulated them. He figured Grease or Overkill would take care of providing the ork with the additional details they had uncovered about BioGene and possible experimental Sioux chemical weapons. Nodding to the police captain, the ork pulled out his commlink and typed out a message.
<<@HP [JustJack] Hola chica, I'm in the neighborhood and wanted to swing by to let you know what's up. Are you at the hotel and in the same room?>>
Jack remained silent while Ramirez congratulated them. He figured Grease or Overkill would take care of providing the ork with the additional details they had uncovered about BioGene and possible experimental Sioux chemical weapons. Nodding to the police captain, the ork pulled out his commlink and typed out a message.
<<@HP [JustJack] Hola chica, I'm in the neighborhood and wanted to swing by to let you know what's up. Are you at the hotel and in the same room?>>
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 8:55 PM August 3rd, 2075
Smiling, Grease nods to Ramirez. "I am glad you are pleased with the work. While it was difficult, it appears to have been within our powers to complete the mission successfully. I thought of putting a bow on Lynx, but figured that would be too on the nose."
His smile fading, he continues. "We surfaced a connection to a Evo subsidary, Biogene. We had a little conversation with Lynx's rigger Gutter, who spilled the beans when he thought we were on his side. Take a look." Grease sends over a file to Ramirez's commlink, who frowns as he reviews the 5 minute interview.
"As you can see, he seems earnest. He doesn't strike me as the type who would be clever enough to plant a false flag in a situation like this. This, combined with the effects that Amy surfaced lead me to believe they were potentially testing their product in the Warrens. Cheaper than clinical trials, larger population to work with, and no need to pay your research subjects. The ones that survive, at least." The elf crosses his arm while he waits for Ramirez's response.
Smiling, Grease nods to Ramirez. "I am glad you are pleased with the work. While it was difficult, it appears to have been within our powers to complete the mission successfully. I thought of putting a bow on Lynx, but figured that would be too on the nose."
His smile fading, he continues. "We surfaced a connection to a Evo subsidary, Biogene. We had a little conversation with Lynx's rigger Gutter, who spilled the beans when he thought we were on his side. Take a look." Grease sends over a file to Ramirez's commlink, who frowns as he reviews the 5 minute interview.
"As you can see, he seems earnest. He doesn't strike me as the type who would be clever enough to plant a false flag in a situation like this. This, combined with the effects that Amy surfaced lead me to believe they were potentially testing their product in the Warrens. Cheaper than clinical trials, larger population to work with, and no need to pay your research subjects. The ones that survive, at least." The elf crosses his arm while he waits for Ramirez's response.
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 9:00 PM August 3rd, 2075
Ramirez finishes viewing the footage, rewinding at some key moments. He looks at the team, seemingly satisfied. "I agree with your assessment. He looks groggy, but as far as I can tell, he seems to be telling the truth. Either that or he is the world's best liar."
"This information on Biogene is potentially huge. If we can prove any of this, it will definitely be a black eye to the corp, and something of this magnitude will have to be shot up the chain to the Council. A corporation poisoning the population of another zone is something I don't think Ghostwalker will look kindly on."
He taps out a quick message on his commlink, then says, "I've just messaged Chapel, authorizing the release of a 100,000
to be split among the four of you. It isn't the full payout, but with only Stinger and the Johnson still in the wind, I can give you most of the money." He reaches out to shake hands with each member of the team.
"On behalf of Lone Star and the families of the deceased, thank you."
In the meantime, Jack's commlink chirps with an incoming message.
<<@Jack [Honeypot] Please tell me you've got this taken care of. I'm going stir crazy here. I'm where you left me. On the bright side, the air conditioning works.>>
Ramirez finishes viewing the footage, rewinding at some key moments. He looks at the team, seemingly satisfied. "I agree with your assessment. He looks groggy, but as far as I can tell, he seems to be telling the truth. Either that or he is the world's best liar."
"This information on Biogene is potentially huge. If we can prove any of this, it will definitely be a black eye to the corp, and something of this magnitude will have to be shot up the chain to the Council. A corporation poisoning the population of another zone is something I don't think Ghostwalker will look kindly on."
He taps out a quick message on his commlink, then says, "I've just messaged Chapel, authorizing the release of a 100,000
to be split among the four of you. It isn't the full payout, but with only Stinger and the Johnson still in the wind, I can give you most of the money." He reaches out to shake hands with each member of the team."On behalf of Lone Star and the families of the deceased, thank you."
In the meantime, Jack's commlink chirps with an incoming message.
<<@Jack [Honeypot] Please tell me you've got this taken care of. I'm going stir crazy here. I'm where you left me. On the bright side, the air conditioning works.>>
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 9:00 PM August 3rd, 2075
Jack returned Ramirez's handshake firmly and replied, "I don't think we're often going to find ourselves on the same side of a run, but I'm glad we were working for you on this one. The gente pequeña seem to get fragged in these deals. Do me a favor and see if you can put Mary Jane Kelly to rest. Girl was at the wrong place at the wrong time, her family deserves to know what happened if you can find out. By the way, did you have a chance to run down anything on the bio material I gave you earlier? We'd kind of like a head's up if we need to watch our backs if there's any blow-back from that part of the run."
Stepping back, Jack pulled out his commlink to check the message he had received. Chuckling, he typed out a quick response.
<<@HP [JustJack] Be there in a few. Long story short, it's been handled. I've got something that I need you to pass on to someone for me>>
Jack returned Ramirez's handshake firmly and replied, "I don't think we're often going to find ourselves on the same side of a run, but I'm glad we were working for you on this one. The gente pequeña seem to get fragged in these deals. Do me a favor and see if you can put Mary Jane Kelly to rest. Girl was at the wrong place at the wrong time, her family deserves to know what happened if you can find out. By the way, did you have a chance to run down anything on the bio material I gave you earlier? We'd kind of like a head's up if we need to watch our backs if there's any blow-back from that part of the run."
Stepping back, Jack pulled out his commlink to check the message he had received. Chuckling, he typed out a quick response.
<<@HP [JustJack] Be there in a few. Long story short, it's been handled. I've got something that I need you to pass on to someone for me>>
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 9:00 PM August 3rd, 2075
Overkill follows Jack's example. "Bitte schön, it was nice to have a job that lets you sleep easy after you are done with it." He slaps Amy on the back gently and smiles, an almost brotherly pride on his face for the young woman on the completion of her first mission.
"Now I need to see a doctor, this shoulder is killing me." He winces as he gently rubs his right shoulder.
Overkill follows Jack's example. "Bitte schön, it was nice to have a job that lets you sleep easy after you are done with it." He slaps Amy on the back gently and smiles, an almost brotherly pride on his face for the young woman on the completion of her first mission.
"Now I need to see a doctor, this shoulder is killing me." He winces as he gently rubs his right shoulder.
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 9:00 PM August 3rd, 2075
Ramirez nods in sympathy at Overkill's pain, and then turns to Jack. "We were able to get DNA results back on those, um, samples, you provided. One came back as a Maria Santiago, she had some priors for solicitation. The others came back as several different sararimen, no one of real importance. Mid level functionaries at most."
Jack sighs as he recognizes Maria's name, not looking forward to giving Honeypot the bad news.
Ramirez nods in sympathy at Overkill's pain, and then turns to Jack. "We were able to get DNA results back on those, um, samples, you provided. One came back as a Maria Santiago, she had some priors for solicitation. The others came back as several different sararimen, no one of real importance. Mid level functionaries at most."
Jack sighs as he recognizes Maria's name, not looking forward to giving Honeypot the bad news.
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 9:01 PM August 3rd, 2075
"Gracias, Captain." Jack shook the ork's hand again and made way for anyone else who wanted to interact with Ramirez. The confirmation of Honeypot's contact having been murdered filled the ork with regret. I'm going to have to be more careful in the future, he thought as he waited for the rest of the team to finish up. He definitely needed to touch base with Honeypot next.
"Gracias, Captain." Jack shook the ork's hand again and made way for anyone else who wanted to interact with Ramirez. The confirmation of Honeypot's contact having been murdered filled the ork with regret. I'm going to have to be more careful in the future, he thought as he waited for the rest of the team to finish up. He definitely needed to touch base with Honeypot next.
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 9:01 PM August 3rd, 2075
100 large!
Nodding along with Jack, Grease shakes Ramirez's hand. "If anything else surfaces, we will be sure to send the information along to Chapel. I'm glad we were able to help. It's rare in this business to feel good about what you did after the job is finished."
100 large!
Nodding along with Jack, Grease shakes Ramirez's hand. "If anything else surfaces, we will be sure to send the information along to Chapel. I'm glad we were able to help. It's rare in this business to feel good about what you did after the job is finished."
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 9:01 PM August 3rd, 2075
Amy accepted Ramirez's hand with a charming smile. She started speaking by repeating a sentence she had been taught for an occasion like this one, and followed on with her typical honesty. "It was a pleasure doing business with you. Truthfully, I'm glad we've helped clear out drugs coming into the Warrens - its citizens are my people."
After a short pause, she added with emphasis. "You have such a good heart, you should consider a life outside the influence of corps and governments. We could use someone with a sense of ethics and justice such as yours."
Amy accepted Ramirez's hand with a charming smile. She started speaking by repeating a sentence she had been taught for an occasion like this one, and followed on with her typical honesty. "It was a pleasure doing business with you. Truthfully, I'm glad we've helped clear out drugs coming into the Warrens - its citizens are my people."
After a short pause, she added with emphasis. "You have such a good heart, you should consider a life outside the influence of corps and governments. We could use someone with a sense of ethics and justice such as yours."
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 9:01 PM August 3rd, 2075
Ramirez gives a genuine, friendly laugh. "That is a nice idea, but I think that I can do more good from where I am now than starting over on the outside. I'm not as young as you, you know."
he looks around at the team and says, "Again, you have my thanks. Stay out of trouble, I truly don't want to see you end up where Lynx and the others are going." He winks at them, "The room is yours for the night, should you need it. Otherwise, if I can help you out, just give me a call."
With a quick touch of a finger to his forehead, he slips past the team and exits the room, leaving the group with a sense of satisfaction, and much fuller pockets.
Ramirez gives a genuine, friendly laugh. "That is a nice idea, but I think that I can do more good from where I am now than starting over on the outside. I'm not as young as you, you know."
he looks around at the team and says, "Again, you have my thanks. Stay out of trouble, I truly don't want to see you end up where Lynx and the others are going." He winks at them, "The room is yours for the night, should you need it. Otherwise, if I can help you out, just give me a call."
With a quick touch of a finger to his forehead, he slips past the team and exits the room, leaving the group with a sense of satisfaction, and much fuller pockets.
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 9:01 PM August 3rd, 2075
When Ramirez is gone, Amy turns to the others. "Well that sure turned out pretty well! Can't wait to get my pay from Chapel, there's so much I want to do with it."
After a moment she adds. "You all know this was my first run, and I barely survived it, thanks to all of you. I have to say that I think we're a good team, even though I have nothing to compare against. How about we meet up again in a few weeks, once we're all in better condition and our pockets aren't full anymore, and we talk about maybe running together again? We could tell Chapel we'd like to stick together for the next job if possible."
Turning to each one in turn, Overkill first, then Jack, and then Grease which she's liking more and more, she says "I'd really like that."
When Ramirez is gone, Amy turns to the others. "Well that sure turned out pretty well! Can't wait to get my pay from Chapel, there's so much I want to do with it."
After a moment she adds. "You all know this was my first run, and I barely survived it, thanks to all of you. I have to say that I think we're a good team, even though I have nothing to compare against. How about we meet up again in a few weeks, once we're all in better condition and our pockets aren't full anymore, and we talk about maybe running together again? We could tell Chapel we'd like to stick together for the next job if possible."
Turning to each one in turn, Overkill first, then Jack, and then Grease which she's liking more and more, she says "I'd really like that."
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 9:02 PM August 3rd, 2075
"Estoy de acuerdo," Jack replied, rubbing his side. "If you can check the blocks that say 'Alive' and 'Paid' at the end of a job, then it's usually a good one."
Clapping Amy on the shoulder, the ork said, "You did really well, Amy, especially considering one of the first things people in the shadows learn is to geek the mage. Walking away from your first run is an accomplishment. I look forward to working with you en el futuro. If Sam or Kevin want to come visit Grandpaw Nic, just give me a call."
Jack reached out and shook Overkill's hand. "Thanks for all the solid matrix work, amigo, we wouldn't have had nearly as much success without it." Lowering his voice, he continued, "More importantly, thanks for being our center. Things might have ended up going a bit darker had you not stepped in... good luck with whatever comes your way next."
Finally, the ork squared up with Grease. Considering everything they had experienced over the last week, Jack had a much different outlook on the elf than he had just a week ago in this exact room. "Look hombre, I'm not saying I trust you or that I necessarily agree with how you work, but I will say that I'd gladly go on another run with you. Good luck out there. See you later, a menos que te veo primero."
"Alright amigos, I've got to take care of a little last bit of biz around here, so I'm heading out." Waving goodbye, Jack left the room.
"Estoy de acuerdo," Jack replied, rubbing his side. "If you can check the blocks that say 'Alive' and 'Paid' at the end of a job, then it's usually a good one."
Clapping Amy on the shoulder, the ork said, "You did really well, Amy, especially considering one of the first things people in the shadows learn is to geek the mage. Walking away from your first run is an accomplishment. I look forward to working with you en el futuro. If Sam or Kevin want to come visit Grandpaw Nic, just give me a call."
Jack reached out and shook Overkill's hand. "Thanks for all the solid matrix work, amigo, we wouldn't have had nearly as much success without it." Lowering his voice, he continued, "More importantly, thanks for being our center. Things might have ended up going a bit darker had you not stepped in... good luck with whatever comes your way next."
Finally, the ork squared up with Grease. Considering everything they had experienced over the last week, Jack had a much different outlook on the elf than he had just a week ago in this exact room. "Look hombre, I'm not saying I trust you or that I necessarily agree with how you work, but I will say that I'd gladly go on another run with you. Good luck out there. See you later, a menos que te veo primero."
"Alright amigos, I've got to take care of a little last bit of biz around here, so I'm heading out." Waving goodbye, Jack left the room.
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 9:02 PM August 3rd, 2075
Watching Jack leave, Grease is quiet for a moment while the door closes.
Earning the trust of that one is something I don't think I'll ever accomplish. Not to mention that I'm not sure I trust him. Where'd all that 'ware come from? He's cagey about his past in a way that is peculiar; I may have to do some digging..
Snapping out of it, the elf turns to the rest of the team and smiles at Amy. "So, you made it through your very first run. I can't say I'm surprised; you're significantly smarter and better adjusted than the majority of magical talent I've worked with. No putting on airs, delicacy, anything like that." His grin turns wicked. "So, I suppose it's time to tell you. Since you survived your first run, you're going to need a street name. Can't go calling you by your Christian name in the middle of a bank robbery, can we?" He nods at Overkill. "Normally, someone in your group would pick the name for you; but I wouldn't want to be presumptuous. As someone who got the name "Grease", I'm willing to suggest you pick your own."
A glint in his eye, he finishes, "So what should we call you?"
Watching Jack leave, Grease is quiet for a moment while the door closes.
Earning the trust of that one is something I don't think I'll ever accomplish. Not to mention that I'm not sure I trust him. Where'd all that 'ware come from? He's cagey about his past in a way that is peculiar; I may have to do some digging..
Snapping out of it, the elf turns to the rest of the team and smiles at Amy. "So, you made it through your very first run. I can't say I'm surprised; you're significantly smarter and better adjusted than the majority of magical talent I've worked with. No putting on airs, delicacy, anything like that." His grin turns wicked. "So, I suppose it's time to tell you. Since you survived your first run, you're going to need a street name. Can't go calling you by your Christian name in the middle of a bank robbery, can we?" He nods at Overkill. "Normally, someone in your group would pick the name for you; but I wouldn't want to be presumptuous. As someone who got the name "Grease", I'm willing to suggest you pick your own."
A glint in his eye, he finishes, "So what should we call you?"
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 9:02 PM August 3rd, 2075
Amy almost blushes at the compliment. "I'm glad you think so!"
Amy had been wondering about what her street name would be, and she really wanted one, too, in order to sort of officially become a shadowrunner. "I don't know what I want to be known as, everyone I know calls me Amy, even my little girl! I always thought someone else would come up with something. You can start calling me something and see if it sticks?"
She really had no idea...
Amy almost blushes at the compliment. "I'm glad you think so!"
Amy had been wondering about what her street name would be, and she really wanted one, too, in order to sort of officially become a shadowrunner. "I don't know what I want to be known as, everyone I know calls me Amy, even my little girl! I always thought someone else would come up with something. You can start calling me something and see if it sticks?"
She really had no idea...
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 9:02 PM August 3rd, 2075
"What about 'Snap'? You always seem to trust your gut and make quick decisions, which is extremely valuable. I can't tell you how many runs I've been on where someone clams up in the middle of a firefight." The elf smiles warmly. "Plus, I think we've learned it's a good idea not to piss you off."
"What about 'Snap'? You always seem to trust your gut and make quick decisions, which is extremely valuable. I can't tell you how many runs I've been on where someone clams up in the middle of a firefight." The elf smiles warmly. "Plus, I think we've learned it's a good idea not to piss you off."
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 9:05 PM August 3rd, 2075
Jack hummed a wordless tune as he approached the door to Honeypot's temporary home. Reaching up, he knocked the rudimentary code the two had worked out just a few days ago to verify his identity. After a second, the maglock cycled open and he heard a faint voice bidding him to enter. Turning the handle, the ork opened the door and walked in the room.
The first thing Jack noticed was the cool temperature in the room. Good to know I won't have to beat Jim's hoop... he thought. The second thing he noticed was Honeypot sitting on the edge of the bed with a small packed bag, her arms crossed and foot tapping. "Well, can I go now?"
Jack grinned, his tusks making the smile appear broader than it actually was. Reaching into his pocket, the ork pulled out a datachip and flipped it to Honeypot. The elf deftly plucked the chip from the air and inspected it. Slotting the chip into the cheap commlink Jack had provided to her, Honeypot booted up the video file it contained. As the video played, Jack commented, "Those three are the last of the crew that was after you. The troll that came for you at the hotel is dead. The team's decker has fled Denver and probably won't ever be back. As for those three the ZDF rolled them up and, based on what they were doing, I doubt Ghostwalker is going to let them see la luz del día anytime soon. You should be safe now. Do me a favor and give that video to Smokey. He helped us out and was worried they were gunning for him too."
As the video concluded, Honeypot looked up and asked, "So, they're not dead?" Disappointment was evident in her voice as she continued, "I appreciate everything you did here, Jack, don't get me wrong. I would just sleep better knowing they were dead. If they're slippery enough, they might be able to strike a deal with Lone Star or the ZDF and be back out on the streets." The elf looked down as she pulled the datachip out of the commlink. Pocketing the chip, she handed the commlink back to Jack. "I don't think I'm going to need this anymore. Thanks for letting me borrow it... any news on Renata?"
Jack sighed. He had been dreading this part of the conversation. "I'm sorry, Honey. I was waiting until I had confirmation before I told you and I just got it. Lone Star confirmed that Renata was one of Truck's victims. She was sacrificed by a group of mages a few nights ago. We took care of that group two nights ago, so she has at least been avenged."
Honeypot nodded silently, Her demeanor showed more annoyance than sorrow, in either event she wasn't particularly happy about the situation. "I'd love to say that it has been good working with you this go around, Jack, but it's been a pretty expensive relationship for me. Thanks for cleaning up the mess though, I'll see you around."
Nodding, Jack held the door open for the elf as she walked out. Giving her a few minutes to settle up with Jim, the ork followed behind and placed a call to Amendola's for a ride home. Staring at the grey smudge that was the Denver sky under a hefty amount of light pollution, the ork wondered what their efforts mattered in the grand scheme of things. Maybe they didn't, but maybe they mattered in the small, personal ways.
Jack hummed a wordless tune as he approached the door to Honeypot's temporary home. Reaching up, he knocked the rudimentary code the two had worked out just a few days ago to verify his identity. After a second, the maglock cycled open and he heard a faint voice bidding him to enter. Turning the handle, the ork opened the door and walked in the room.
The first thing Jack noticed was the cool temperature in the room. Good to know I won't have to beat Jim's hoop... he thought. The second thing he noticed was Honeypot sitting on the edge of the bed with a small packed bag, her arms crossed and foot tapping. "Well, can I go now?"
Jack grinned, his tusks making the smile appear broader than it actually was. Reaching into his pocket, the ork pulled out a datachip and flipped it to Honeypot. The elf deftly plucked the chip from the air and inspected it. Slotting the chip into the cheap commlink Jack had provided to her, Honeypot booted up the video file it contained. As the video played, Jack commented, "Those three are the last of the crew that was after you. The troll that came for you at the hotel is dead. The team's decker has fled Denver and probably won't ever be back. As for those three the ZDF rolled them up and, based on what they were doing, I doubt Ghostwalker is going to let them see la luz del día anytime soon. You should be safe now. Do me a favor and give that video to Smokey. He helped us out and was worried they were gunning for him too."
As the video concluded, Honeypot looked up and asked, "So, they're not dead?" Disappointment was evident in her voice as she continued, "I appreciate everything you did here, Jack, don't get me wrong. I would just sleep better knowing they were dead. If they're slippery enough, they might be able to strike a deal with Lone Star or the ZDF and be back out on the streets." The elf looked down as she pulled the datachip out of the commlink. Pocketing the chip, she handed the commlink back to Jack. "I don't think I'm going to need this anymore. Thanks for letting me borrow it... any news on Renata?"
Jack sighed. He had been dreading this part of the conversation. "I'm sorry, Honey. I was waiting until I had confirmation before I told you and I just got it. Lone Star confirmed that Renata was one of Truck's victims. She was sacrificed by a group of mages a few nights ago. We took care of that group two nights ago, so she has at least been avenged."
Honeypot nodded silently, Her demeanor showed more annoyance than sorrow, in either event she wasn't particularly happy about the situation. "I'd love to say that it has been good working with you this go around, Jack, but it's been a pretty expensive relationship for me. Thanks for cleaning up the mess though, I'll see you around."
Nodding, Jack held the door open for the elf as she walked out. Giving her a few minutes to settle up with Jim, the ork followed behind and placed a call to Amendola's for a ride home. Staring at the grey smudge that was the Denver sky under a hefty amount of light pollution, the ork wondered what their efforts mattered in the grand scheme of things. Maybe they didn't, but maybe they mattered in the small, personal ways.
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 9:02 PM August 3rd, 2075
Amy looks puzzled. "Snap?"
She eventually grins. "Snap it is!" and just walks out of the room, content.
Amy looks puzzled. "Snap?"
She eventually grins. "Snap it is!" and just walks out of the room, content.
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 9:02 PM August 3rd, 2075
Surprised by Amy.. Snap's sudden departure, Grease shrugs at Overkill. "Until next time, Freund."
Surprised by Amy.. Snap's sudden departure, Grease shrugs at Overkill. "Until next time, Freund."
Motel 6, Aurora Warrens, 9:02 PM August 3rd, 2075
Overkill shakes Greases hand, and departs the Motel, walking to his motorcycle. With a roar of the engine he disappears into the Warrens, already scanning a message marked "Urgent" in his inbox.
<<Drave [Muller] Mein Freund , ich hasse es , Ihnen dabei zu kommen , aber es ist eine dringende Angelegenheit , um im Hinblick auf die BADF diskutieren. Es gibt Probleme mit nach Hause , und ich brauche Ihre Hilfe.>>
Revving the accelerator, Overkill rockets off, his mind flashing back towards times best left forgotten...
Overkill shakes Greases hand, and departs the Motel, walking to his motorcycle. With a roar of the engine he disappears into the Warrens, already scanning a message marked "Urgent" in his inbox.
<<Drave [Muller] Mein Freund , ich hasse es , Ihnen dabei zu kommen , aber es ist eine dringende Angelegenheit , um im Hinblick auf die BADF diskutieren. Es gibt Probleme mit nach Hause , und ich brauche Ihre Hilfe.>>
Revving the accelerator, Overkill rockets off, his mind flashing back towards times best left forgotten...
Nic's Knacks, Aurora Warrens, 6:30 AM August 4th, 2075
The silent, vibrating alarm on Jack's Ikon woke the ork at precisely 0630. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Jack stretched wide before wincing and reaching down for his bandaged gut. He hadn't let on the night it happened, but Lynx's bullets nearly ended him and he was happy to see his wounds were healing quickly. Standing up, the ork cracked his neck and checked out the weather through his dirty, smudged window. It actually looked reasonably nice, the oppressive heat hadn't yet unveiled itself. Quickly changing into a pair of shorts and an old NAGO T-shirt, the ork tugged on a pair of running shoes. Leaving his room, he quickly slipped out the front door, his commlink secured to a Lycra band around his arm. Mentally accessing his skillwire system, he shut them down entirely. No need for that today... the ork thought, as he started a slow jog, taking it easy so as to not aggravate his injury.
The Warrens were actually pretty quiet at this time of day. The few people who worked a regular job were getting ready to head out to work and the denizens of the night were either asleep or passed out from the previous evening's revelry. Jack jogged northwest on S. Genoa Way before turning left onto S. Ceylon Way. This was Trey-Eights Territory and they had a passably working relationship with Nic, which generally extended to Jack. The fact he was an ork with stacks of vat grown muscle visibly moving beneath his skin helped give anyone second thoughts about jumping him. Passing the row upon row of derelict, squatter inhabited tenement housing, Jack pondered the run the team had just completed. The people that lived in the Warrens needed help. The fact a relatively low-level corp effectively used the inhabitants of the area as a handy drug trial population just showed how vulnerable the people actually were. Redoubling his pace, the ork thought about Chomsky and Greeley. He hadn't had much chance to interact with them due to getting called away by Honeypot, but he felt he should try to do something to help them out with their efforts. Taking a quick left on S. Reservoir Road and then another quick left on Princeton, the ork headed back to Nic's.
The silent, vibrating alarm on Jack's Ikon woke the ork at precisely 0630. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Jack stretched wide before wincing and reaching down for his bandaged gut. He hadn't let on the night it happened, but Lynx's bullets nearly ended him and he was happy to see his wounds were healing quickly. Standing up, the ork cracked his neck and checked out the weather through his dirty, smudged window. It actually looked reasonably nice, the oppressive heat hadn't yet unveiled itself. Quickly changing into a pair of shorts and an old NAGO T-shirt, the ork tugged on a pair of running shoes. Leaving his room, he quickly slipped out the front door, his commlink secured to a Lycra band around his arm. Mentally accessing his skillwire system, he shut them down entirely. No need for that today... the ork thought, as he started a slow jog, taking it easy so as to not aggravate his injury.
The Warrens were actually pretty quiet at this time of day. The few people who worked a regular job were getting ready to head out to work and the denizens of the night were either asleep or passed out from the previous evening's revelry. Jack jogged northwest on S. Genoa Way before turning left onto S. Ceylon Way. This was Trey-Eights Territory and they had a passably working relationship with Nic, which generally extended to Jack. The fact he was an ork with stacks of vat grown muscle visibly moving beneath his skin helped give anyone second thoughts about jumping him. Passing the row upon row of derelict, squatter inhabited tenement housing, Jack pondered the run the team had just completed. The people that lived in the Warrens needed help. The fact a relatively low-level corp effectively used the inhabitants of the area as a handy drug trial population just showed how vulnerable the people actually were. Redoubling his pace, the ork thought about Chomsky and Greeley. He hadn't had much chance to interact with them due to getting called away by Honeypot, but he felt he should try to do something to help them out with their efforts. Taking a quick left on S. Reservoir Road and then another quick left on Princeton, the ork headed back to Nic's.
Nic's Knacks, Aurora Warrens, 6:45 AM August 4th, 2075
Entering the converted house, Jack quietly made his way back to the bathroom, hoping not to wake Nic. He showered and changed into street clothes: his armor vest, an olive-drab short-sleeve button-up shirt, jeans, and a pair of boots. Walking back to the front room, the ork started the soykaf machine, having to give it a whack before the green light turned on. Never much of a cook, Jack checked the fridge and pulled out a few BreakFAST Stuffers from Stuffer Shack. Checking the expiration date, he popped them in the microwave and punched in the appropriate time. While the food cooked, the ork searched in vain for the remote control to the trid. Unable to find it, he walked over and manually turned on the set, changing it to the local news shows. As he found the station he wanted, he heard the inimitable sounds of Nic entering the room. The servos of his backwards cyberleg wheezed and whined as he walked over to the pool table and reached into the cubby where the rack was held. Pulling out the trid remote, the troll changed the channel to cartoons.
"Too much serious drek has been going on, chum. You need to unwind some more," Nic said, walking over to the soykaf machine and pouring a serving into two chipped mugs. The microwave beeped and Nic pulled out the stuffers, tossing one to Jack. The ork managed to deftly pluck the gooey, heated missile and avoided staining his clean clothes.
"Thanks amigo," Jack replied as a cartoon devil rat brained a cartoon hellhound with a frying pan in the background. "Job's done. We met with Mr. Johnson last night and he was pretty pleased. Thanks again for all your help." Jack left it at that; the troll had previously made it known that he wasn't into any sappy stuff. That was fine with the ork, but he fully intended to compensate Nic for his time. He just had to figure out what to get him. "I've got to send a few messages and want to read the paper, but I'm ready to work when I get done."
Entering the converted house, Jack quietly made his way back to the bathroom, hoping not to wake Nic. He showered and changed into street clothes: his armor vest, an olive-drab short-sleeve button-up shirt, jeans, and a pair of boots. Walking back to the front room, the ork started the soykaf machine, having to give it a whack before the green light turned on. Never much of a cook, Jack checked the fridge and pulled out a few BreakFAST Stuffers from Stuffer Shack. Checking the expiration date, he popped them in the microwave and punched in the appropriate time. While the food cooked, the ork searched in vain for the remote control to the trid. Unable to find it, he walked over and manually turned on the set, changing it to the local news shows. As he found the station he wanted, he heard the inimitable sounds of Nic entering the room. The servos of his backwards cyberleg wheezed and whined as he walked over to the pool table and reached into the cubby where the rack was held. Pulling out the trid remote, the troll changed the channel to cartoons.
"Too much serious drek has been going on, chum. You need to unwind some more," Nic said, walking over to the soykaf machine and pouring a serving into two chipped mugs. The microwave beeped and Nic pulled out the stuffers, tossing one to Jack. The ork managed to deftly pluck the gooey, heated missile and avoided staining his clean clothes.
"Thanks amigo," Jack replied as a cartoon devil rat brained a cartoon hellhound with a frying pan in the background. "Job's done. We met with Mr. Johnson last night and he was pretty pleased. Thanks again for all your help." Jack left it at that; the troll had previously made it known that he wasn't into any sappy stuff. That was fine with the ork, but he fully intended to compensate Nic for his time. He just had to figure out what to get him. "I've got to send a few messages and want to read the paper, but I'm ready to work when I get done."
Nic's Knacks, Aurora Warrens, 7:00 AM August 4th, 2075
Accessing the Denver Tribune archives, Jack picked up where he had left off in his goal of catching up on the events he couldn't remember. He was only five years out now, but making significant headway in his goal. His memory loss was an impediment, but one that didn't typically effect his day-to-day activities. It did bring up a few strange situations, like not catching pop culture references from the past five years. The big deal in 2070 was apparently large-scale nanomanufacturing, which didn't turn out very well, as Jack understood it. After he finished scanning through a week's worth of newspapers, the ork sat back and pulled out his commlnk, composing a message to Chapel.
<<@Chapel [JustJack] Hoi Chapel. Thanks for the job, it seemed to go off pretty well. Mr. Johnson said you were holding our pay in escrow. Rather than transferring it to me now, I was hoping you could track down a few items for me that I've attached to this message. The suit and datajack are going to need to come with a tailor and cyberdoc, as well. Also, I'm willing to go in for 500 for a pair of tickets to that NAGO show we talked about earlier. If the total price is less than 14K, just deduct it from my pay and transfer the rest to my account. Thanks hombre | File Attached>>
Finishing up his message, Jack turned to Nic and said, "Alright amigo, what's on tap for the day?"
Accessing the Denver Tribune archives, Jack picked up where he had left off in his goal of catching up on the events he couldn't remember. He was only five years out now, but making significant headway in his goal. His memory loss was an impediment, but one that didn't typically effect his day-to-day activities. It did bring up a few strange situations, like not catching pop culture references from the past five years. The big deal in 2070 was apparently large-scale nanomanufacturing, which didn't turn out very well, as Jack understood it. After he finished scanning through a week's worth of newspapers, the ork sat back and pulled out his commlnk, composing a message to Chapel.
<<@Chapel [JustJack] Hoi Chapel. Thanks for the job, it seemed to go off pretty well. Mr. Johnson said you were holding our pay in escrow. Rather than transferring it to me now, I was hoping you could track down a few items for me that I've attached to this message. The suit and datajack are going to need to come with a tailor and cyberdoc, as well. Also, I'm willing to go in for 500 for a pair of tickets to that NAGO show we talked about earlier. If the total price is less than 14K, just deduct it from my pay and transfer the rest to my account. Thanks hombre | File Attached>>
Finishing up his message, Jack turned to Nic and said, "Alright amigo, what's on tap for the day?"
Nic's Knacks, Aurora Warrens, 4:00 PM August 4th, 2075
Jack was beginning to rethink his plan to compensate Nic for his time. The troll was working him like a burro for all the days he had missed while working for Ramirez. When Nic started running down a massive list of tasks he had planned after breakfast, Jack sighed and went back to his room to change again. Fortunately, he had washed the coveralls he had used during the assault on Lynx's apartment and put them on to work. Now that it was nearing 1600, Jack considered everything they had done. From repairing the hot water heater to stripping down a disabled Yamaha Growler Nic had acquired from somewhere for parts, the ork did a lot of semi-heavy lifting and wrench-turning throughout the day. By the time his commlink chimed around 1600, Jack and his coveralls were dirty, greasy, and sweaty.
Accessing his commlink, the ork read the message on the small screen.
<<@Jack [Chapel] Afternoon, Jack. I was able to put my hands on all of the gear you requested. I'll send it over via courier tomorrow morning. You've also got an appointment Monday morning with a doc for the datajack install. I'm forwarding his contact information and address. Honestly, I was surprised given all your 'ware that you didn't have one already. I'm still working on setting up an appointment with a tailor for your suit. Nice choice by the way, that off-the-rack Actioneer was getting a little tired, chummer. My guy is pretty busy right now, but I figure you'll have your suit by the end of the week. Last but not least, I was able to score you tickets for the NAGO show, The extra nuyen helped me get you floor tickets. As I'm sure you're aware, floor seats are General Admission, the whole thing turns into a mosh pit. You probably want to wear your armor to the show.>>
Jack grinned; Chapel always came through. Opening up his contact list, he changed up his commlink profile and sent CPL Jason Sinclair a message.
<<@Jason [Diego] I got us floor tickets, hombre! NAGO!!! Even if you have to ask Big G for time off, you gotta figure it out. Let me know if you're free>>
"Damnit, tusker! We still gotta fix up this toaster!" The ork sighed as troll's bellow carried across the junked up yard of Nic's Knacks.
Jack was beginning to rethink his plan to compensate Nic for his time. The troll was working him like a burro for all the days he had missed while working for Ramirez. When Nic started running down a massive list of tasks he had planned after breakfast, Jack sighed and went back to his room to change again. Fortunately, he had washed the coveralls he had used during the assault on Lynx's apartment and put them on to work. Now that it was nearing 1600, Jack considered everything they had done. From repairing the hot water heater to stripping down a disabled Yamaha Growler Nic had acquired from somewhere for parts, the ork did a lot of semi-heavy lifting and wrench-turning throughout the day. By the time his commlink chimed around 1600, Jack and his coveralls were dirty, greasy, and sweaty.
Accessing his commlink, the ork read the message on the small screen.
<<@Jack [Chapel] Afternoon, Jack. I was able to put my hands on all of the gear you requested. I'll send it over via courier tomorrow morning. You've also got an appointment Monday morning with a doc for the datajack install. I'm forwarding his contact information and address. Honestly, I was surprised given all your 'ware that you didn't have one already. I'm still working on setting up an appointment with a tailor for your suit. Nice choice by the way, that off-the-rack Actioneer was getting a little tired, chummer. My guy is pretty busy right now, but I figure you'll have your suit by the end of the week. Last but not least, I was able to score you tickets for the NAGO show, The extra nuyen helped me get you floor tickets. As I'm sure you're aware, floor seats are General Admission, the whole thing turns into a mosh pit. You probably want to wear your armor to the show.>>
Jack grinned; Chapel always came through. Opening up his contact list, he changed up his commlink profile and sent CPL Jason Sinclair a message.
<<@Jason [Diego] I got us floor tickets, hombre! NAGO!!! Even if you have to ask Big G for time off, you gotta figure it out. Let me know if you're free>>
"Damnit, tusker! We still gotta fix up this toaster!" The ork sighed as troll's bellow carried across the junked up yard of Nic's Knacks.
"Bread and Water", UCAS Zone, 2:19 PM, August 4th, 2075
Talking over Chapel's laughter, Grease continues. "I'm just sayin.. Can you stop for a second? Do you need some water? People are staring." Chapel simmers down, wiping tears from his eyes. He looks up at Grease, only to burst out laughing again. "All I'm saying", he adds with emphasis, "Is that it was a dynamic situation; we didn't know what we were getting into, and it was a completely innocent mistake! Anyone could have made it!" Frustrated, Grease crosses his arms while Chapel motions for the waiter. "My friend here would love some of that linguine you are famous for.." he pauses, twinkle in his eye, as he prepares his punch line. "EXTRA garlic." Unable to contain himself, he starts laughing all over again, confusing the waiter who smiles politely along with him. Grease gives the waiter a tight smile, then grins along with Chapel. "I'm never going to live this down..."
Mortimer of London, UCAS Zone, 11:22 AM, August 6th, 2075
The tailor frets over his measurements, marking chalk on various parts of Grease's body he previously considered private.
When in Rome..
"As you can see sir, the Berwick line combines classic fashion with utility. Your request to add the privacy screen, signal scanner and signal.. eraser," he coughs politely, "Were easy to incorporate into the pliable fabric. A wool suit like this could last you ages, and it's fit is obviously second to none. I would take classic London fashion over the Armante's of the world any day of the week; they are chasing trends, while we remain an institution." he smiles proudly having finished his speech, stepping out of the way so Grease can admire himself in the 3-piece mirror.
Whispering under his breath, Grease adjusts his cuffs. "Bond.. James Bond."
"Gush", Warrens, 11:49 PM, August 7th, 2075
Yelling to be heard over the club's speakers, Grease continues trying to communicate with his dealer. "No- I don't want to sell it- I want to FIX it!" Smiling widely at the word fix, Sling produces a set of pills. "No- I don't NEED a Fix; I NEED someone to Fix a DRONE!" Sling shakes his head, still not following. "I need YOU to TELL me WHO can FIX my DRONE!" Grease screams himself hoarse, emphasizing the words he feels will get his message across best.
<<@Grease [Sling]: What's up chummer? Maybe it'd be easier to just type this out.>>
Howling, Grease turns his back and downs a drink, eventually calming down enough to communicate with his friend.
Grease's Apartment, UCAS Zone, 4:30 PM, August 8th, 2075
Having eliminated all other possibilities, Grease prepared to try one last option for resurrecting his dead drone. The method he was about to try was either going to factory-reset the drone's equipment, or slag it irreparably.
I wish Overkill was here; he seemed to have a sense for how to fix these things..
Everything was as prepared as possible. His workbench could have doubled as an operating table in one of the nicer wet-clinics in the Denver area. He had spent hours pouring over message boards, the plans for this particular drone, as well as re-reading cover to cover the repair documentation for this specific procedure. Still, he didn't figure he had better than 1 chance in 3 of actually getting it to work.
Holding the chassis firmly, he kept the factory reset button depressed while reaching around the entire body of the drone to it's service panel on the far side. Using a mirror to see what he was doing, all his motions were reversed from what he would normally feel.
If this frakking button was just on the other side, I'd have finished this hours ago. He thought to himself. Whoever designed this thing either hated people repairing their drones, or figured they'd make some extra cred by assuming people wouldn't bother to fix them. Either way, diabolical.
Reaching the tool inside, he very, very gently grabbed the offending piece of hardware and pulled it out. His face sweating, he took the new piece and was about to place it when he realized the writing on it was the wrong direction. Gently twisting his arm so the writing was facing the right (wrong) way in the mirror, he reset the new chip.
<<GM-NISSAN DOBERMAN 2071 BOOT SEQUENCE INITIATED..>>
<<TIME:00:00:00>>
<<LOSS OF POWER DETECTED, TIME/DATE UNRELIABLE>>
<<LOADING OS...>>
Somewhere in the Warrens, 3:03 AM, August 10th, 2075
The high from the Novacoke was a distant, tugging sensation. It was something to note, a checklist item in a long list of things to consider.
<<NOTE: Artificial Chemical in bloodstream. Expect 3.2% improved reaction time. CAUTION: Chance of cardiac event increased 19.7%.>>
It had been some time since Grease had raced for these kind of stakes, but it was worth it. He had been out of the game for too long, he had trouble finding the races like he used to. This one was purely local; but he knew how dangerous that could be. Just because his competition wasn't from the nice side of the tracks didn't mean they didn't have cred to spend. In fact, most of the nuyen their white-collar counterparts would be spending on mortgages, 401ks, day care, and other boring stuff went directly into improving the short-line speed of their cars. But they didn't have 100k rigs mounted at the base of their skulls. At least, Grease hoped they didn't. Feeling the tires pressed against the warm asphalt, Grease breathed in the night air through his radiator, sensing a cold snap in a few days. He breathed in and out, his engine reving in increasing levels, a feedback effect of making him more excited, more anxious. Waiting for the start... Knowing that his competitor had paid them off to make him lose a second, knowing he didn't care, wanting to race, needing to race..
<<3.. 2... 1...>>
UCAS Zone, 10:45 AM, August 10th, 2075
Leaning against his cab, Grease could feel the bass of the club, the loss of his hearing, the smell of his car throughout his very soul. Automatically, he chirped out the street pidgin, less an actual advertisement and more an involuntary noise. "Airport, 20 'yen, Airport, 20 'yen." Yawning deeply, he rubbed his eyes, thinking of taking up smoking just so he'd have something to do while waiting. "Airport, 20' yen."
Rushing up to his cab, a man in a business suit dropped his luggage and suitcase, then scrambled to pick them all up. "You gotta help me!" He sounds panicked. "I need to get to the airport in.." he looks at his watch, "4 minutes!" He started cursing to himself as he gathered his things. Grease casually walks to the other side of the cab and gets into the driver's seat. Unlocking the door, the man throws himself inside, looking at Grease frantically. "Well, aren't you going to go?!" The elf smiles, adjusts his mirror, and starts to drive.
Talking over Chapel's laughter, Grease continues. "I'm just sayin.. Can you stop for a second? Do you need some water? People are staring." Chapel simmers down, wiping tears from his eyes. He looks up at Grease, only to burst out laughing again. "All I'm saying", he adds with emphasis, "Is that it was a dynamic situation; we didn't know what we were getting into, and it was a completely innocent mistake! Anyone could have made it!" Frustrated, Grease crosses his arms while Chapel motions for the waiter. "My friend here would love some of that linguine you are famous for.." he pauses, twinkle in his eye, as he prepares his punch line. "EXTRA garlic." Unable to contain himself, he starts laughing all over again, confusing the waiter who smiles politely along with him. Grease gives the waiter a tight smile, then grins along with Chapel. "I'm never going to live this down..."
Mortimer of London, UCAS Zone, 11:22 AM, August 6th, 2075
The tailor frets over his measurements, marking chalk on various parts of Grease's body he previously considered private.
When in Rome..
"As you can see sir, the Berwick line combines classic fashion with utility. Your request to add the privacy screen, signal scanner and signal.. eraser," he coughs politely, "Were easy to incorporate into the pliable fabric. A wool suit like this could last you ages, and it's fit is obviously second to none. I would take classic London fashion over the Armante's of the world any day of the week; they are chasing trends, while we remain an institution." he smiles proudly having finished his speech, stepping out of the way so Grease can admire himself in the 3-piece mirror.
Whispering under his breath, Grease adjusts his cuffs. "Bond.. James Bond."
"Gush", Warrens, 11:49 PM, August 7th, 2075
Yelling to be heard over the club's speakers, Grease continues trying to communicate with his dealer. "No- I don't want to sell it- I want to FIX it!" Smiling widely at the word fix, Sling produces a set of pills. "No- I don't NEED a Fix; I NEED someone to Fix a DRONE!" Sling shakes his head, still not following. "I need YOU to TELL me WHO can FIX my DRONE!" Grease screams himself hoarse, emphasizing the words he feels will get his message across best.
<<@Grease [Sling]: What's up chummer? Maybe it'd be easier to just type this out.>>
Howling, Grease turns his back and downs a drink, eventually calming down enough to communicate with his friend.
Grease's Apartment, UCAS Zone, 4:30 PM, August 8th, 2075
Having eliminated all other possibilities, Grease prepared to try one last option for resurrecting his dead drone. The method he was about to try was either going to factory-reset the drone's equipment, or slag it irreparably.
I wish Overkill was here; he seemed to have a sense for how to fix these things..
Everything was as prepared as possible. His workbench could have doubled as an operating table in one of the nicer wet-clinics in the Denver area. He had spent hours pouring over message boards, the plans for this particular drone, as well as re-reading cover to cover the repair documentation for this specific procedure. Still, he didn't figure he had better than 1 chance in 3 of actually getting it to work.
Holding the chassis firmly, he kept the factory reset button depressed while reaching around the entire body of the drone to it's service panel on the far side. Using a mirror to see what he was doing, all his motions were reversed from what he would normally feel.
If this frakking button was just on the other side, I'd have finished this hours ago. He thought to himself. Whoever designed this thing either hated people repairing their drones, or figured they'd make some extra cred by assuming people wouldn't bother to fix them. Either way, diabolical.
Reaching the tool inside, he very, very gently grabbed the offending piece of hardware and pulled it out. His face sweating, he took the new piece and was about to place it when he realized the writing on it was the wrong direction. Gently twisting his arm so the writing was facing the right (wrong) way in the mirror, he reset the new chip.
<<GM-NISSAN DOBERMAN 2071 BOOT SEQUENCE INITIATED..>>
<<TIME:00:00:00>>
<<LOSS OF POWER DETECTED, TIME/DATE UNRELIABLE>>
<<LOADING OS...>>
Somewhere in the Warrens, 3:03 AM, August 10th, 2075
The high from the Novacoke was a distant, tugging sensation. It was something to note, a checklist item in a long list of things to consider.
<<NOTE: Artificial Chemical in bloodstream. Expect 3.2% improved reaction time. CAUTION: Chance of cardiac event increased 19.7%.>>
It had been some time since Grease had raced for these kind of stakes, but it was worth it. He had been out of the game for too long, he had trouble finding the races like he used to. This one was purely local; but he knew how dangerous that could be. Just because his competition wasn't from the nice side of the tracks didn't mean they didn't have cred to spend. In fact, most of the nuyen their white-collar counterparts would be spending on mortgages, 401ks, day care, and other boring stuff went directly into improving the short-line speed of their cars. But they didn't have 100k rigs mounted at the base of their skulls. At least, Grease hoped they didn't. Feeling the tires pressed against the warm asphalt, Grease breathed in the night air through his radiator, sensing a cold snap in a few days. He breathed in and out, his engine reving in increasing levels, a feedback effect of making him more excited, more anxious. Waiting for the start... Knowing that his competitor had paid them off to make him lose a second, knowing he didn't care, wanting to race, needing to race..
<<3.. 2... 1...>>
UCAS Zone, 10:45 AM, August 10th, 2075
Leaning against his cab, Grease could feel the bass of the club, the loss of his hearing, the smell of his car throughout his very soul. Automatically, he chirped out the street pidgin, less an actual advertisement and more an involuntary noise. "Airport, 20 'yen, Airport, 20 'yen." Yawning deeply, he rubbed his eyes, thinking of taking up smoking just so he'd have something to do while waiting. "Airport, 20' yen."
Rushing up to his cab, a man in a business suit dropped his luggage and suitcase, then scrambled to pick them all up. "You gotta help me!" He sounds panicked. "I need to get to the airport in.." he looks at his watch, "4 minutes!" He started cursing to himself as he gathered his things. Grease casually walks to the other side of the cab and gets into the driver's seat. Unlocking the door, the man throws himself inside, looking at Grease frantically. "Well, aren't you going to go?!" The elf smiles, adjusts his mirror, and starts to drive.
The Office of Dr. Jeffrey Hauser, UCAS Sector, Denver, 9:00 AM August 5th, 2075
Jack should have guessed having a hole drilled in his head was going to leave a massive headache. As he reached up to touch the new cyber-implant, Dr. Hauser slapped his hand. "Considering how much cyberware you have, you're a terrible patient. I'm going to have to send you home with a cone on if you keep it up." The ork groaned as he laid back on the operating table. The headache was only amplified by the datajack's diagnostic ARO running in the corner of his vision. He didn't realize how accustomed he had gotten to experiencing AR through devices. Having AROs pop up in his natural vision was just weird.
"Alright Jack, here's a salve you need to take with you and apply daily for a week. Keep the area around the datajack dry and clean it with a light degreaser." Dr. Hauser handed Jack a small plastic bag containing a small bottle of medication, a bottle of aspirin, and paper directions that the ork thought rather quaint. "The diagnostic software on the datajack should finish in the next minute or so. Once it's complete, the easiest way to start the setup wizard is to directly connect to your commlink. It should run automatically. Other than that, you're done here. Tell Chapel I said hello."
Hopping off the table, Jack steadied himself. Head pounding, he fished the aspirin out of the bag and took a handful dry. "Thanks Doc," Jack said, "I'll pass on your regards. I appreciate the steady hand."
Zoe Custom Clothiers, UCAS Downtown Hub, Denver, 3:00 PM August 8th, 2075
"Stop shifting," Davis said, "I've got a reputation to uphold and I am not letting you walk out of here with a poorly tailored suit." The dwarf tailor jabbed Jack in the hand with one of his pins. The ork was initially surprised by how unfriendly the tailor was, but slowly realized the quality of the dwarf's work as he looked around the shop. He figured Davis could get away with it. Eyeing the ork closely, the tailor asked, "Hey, you aren't planning on bulking up any, are ya? No heavy lifting or anymore of this vat muscle? 'Cause this suit is going to be tailored with millimeter precision. You get buff or fat and the warranty is void."
Jack sighed, he almost thought he'd be happier getting shot in the gut than having to deal with this squat bastard. Still, the suit looked wiz.
Annette's Antiques, UCAS Sector, Denver, 10:00 AM August 9th, 2075
Dressed to the nines in his new Zoe Executive Suite suit, Jack entered Annette's Antiques with a confident air. An appropriately antique door bell rang as he entered the shop; an old human woman peeking out from the back room. The briefest glint of fear crossed her face as she noticed Jack was an ork, but it cleared quickly when she realized the suit he was wearing was almost certainly more expensive than anything in the shop. "Hello there, stranger! What can I do for you today?"
"Annette, I presume?" Jack asked. When the woman nodded, the ork smiled and said, "Pleasure to meet you, seniorita. My name's Diego and I'm looking for something special for a friend of mine... something mechanical."
Annette made a face. "That's kind of an odd request, Diego, but I think I might be able to fix you up right. Come over here and take a look at these clocks. Old analog devices, one of them even requires winding a spring, if you can believe that!" Jack looked through the clocks, mildly interested but not quite sure it was what Nic would want. "Wiz, but I don't know if that quite fits the bill. Do you have anything that's more, I don't know, hands-on?"
Annette scowled for a few seconds before her face lit up. "You're friend's a tinker? I think I've got just the thing. Someone just brought this thing into the shop the other day. It's mid-20th Century tech from Vegas. Follow me." Gesturing toward the back-room, the woman walked into the back and toward a bulky object hidden under a tarp. Yanking the tarp off, Annette revealed an antique slot machine. With gusto, the woman announced, "The old One-Armed Bandit! It's actually not quite in working order, but maybe your friend would prefer that, so they can tinker with it to get it back into working order. It's yours for an even 400 but the shipping's on you."
"Shipping's on me and it doesn't work? I'll give you 200 at best... he might not even be able to find parts," the ork said with feigned affront.
Sighing heavily, Annette responded, "Fine, fine... 250 and not a nuyen-less. Deal?"
"Deal," Jack said, shaking Annette's hand firmly.
Nic's Knacks, Aurora Warrens, 7:00 AM August 10th, 2075
With the soykaf machine in working order, Jack helped himself to a fresh cup of soykaf before settling in to read the current day's issue of the Denver Tribune. With his new datajack, he didn't even have to put on his glasses to read the digital copy. Reading through the headlines, the ork spat soykaf across the table. Dios mío! Jack thought, as he scanned the contents of the Tribune. With his head for business, the ork started to connect the dots. Looks like everything came to a head... the UCAS must have used the information they had on BioGene to get concessions both from the Sioux Nation and BioGene. Probably got a nice deal on this PX57 gas they almost certainly developed from Crimson Fire. That's scary as drek... and looks like they cleaned up some of the loose ends. Sorry Twoman, we didn't even know ya, hombre.
Quickly clipping the pertinent articles, Jack queued up a message to the rest of the team, including Overkill. The ork hoped his friend wasn't having to deal with too much trouble back in Berlin.
<<@Team [JustJack] Check this out, amigos. Make sure to keep your heads down for a bit, let the heat die down and we should be okay | File Attached>>
The Corps were always the winners in these deals, but as long as he was still breathing, Jack would accept the consolation prize. He had a full day ahead of him and afterwards... NAGO!!!
Waffles Anytime, Downtown UCAS Hub, Denver, 2:00 AM August 11th, 2075
The concert had been great. Underneath his armor jacket and clothing, Jack's body was temporarily tattooed with bruises from head to toe. He was pretty sure Dr. Hauser wouldn't be pleased with his extracurricular activities, but he had checked the datajack and it was still firmly seated in place. On top of it all, he was pretty sure he might have sent some drekhead to the hospital with a well placed elbow.
"Man, that was awesome, Diego!" CPL Jason Sinclair of the ZDF Border Forces said from the other side of the table, digging into a large plate of waffles. "Thanks so much for scoring those tickets. You've really got the hook-up!"
Jack contemplated Jason as he dug into his own giant plate of myco-waffles. The human fans of Goblin Rock were always an odd bunch. Jason was a pretty fit kid, but had taken his lumps at the show. He was probably targeted for his race, to be perfectly honest, but he didn't seem to care. "Hey man, anything I can do to improve the morale of our Zone Defense Force." Jack threw a lazy salute and laughed. "But no problem on the tickets, I get lucky sometimes in my line of work and meet the right people, you know?"
Laughing along with him, Jason saluted back and lowered into his middle finger extended. "Frag off, dude. You know I'd love to drop the ZDF and do the kind of work you do. Meeting interesting people, making sure they don't get geeked, rubbing elbows with the rich and famous... that's got to be awesome. What's the chances you might be covering Tayvon Charles? That would be crazy?"
Shaking his head, Jack said, "I doubt I'll be covering down on that hombre. Most of my clientele are a little more discrete. They usually have more dangerous enemies than a football player would. I think the ZDF occasionally rolls those kinds of bad guys up. In fact, I've got an on-going contract to protect a client from a bad dude who goes by the name of Lynx. I heard your vatos took him down a week ago. If he somehow gets released and you hear about it, can you let me know? That stuff is public record, but sometimes it takes your people a while to update the information. Every second counts in my line of work..."
Mid-bite, Jason looked like he didn't quite understand what Jack was asking him. Swallowing, he shrugged and said, "Sure, Diego. As long as I won't get in trouble for it and it helps out with your biz, I can give you a head's up."
"That's all I ask, amigo. So, is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see the waitress?" Throwing up his fist, Jack banged his head with a smile across his face.
Jack should have guessed having a hole drilled in his head was going to leave a massive headache. As he reached up to touch the new cyber-implant, Dr. Hauser slapped his hand. "Considering how much cyberware you have, you're a terrible patient. I'm going to have to send you home with a cone on if you keep it up." The ork groaned as he laid back on the operating table. The headache was only amplified by the datajack's diagnostic ARO running in the corner of his vision. He didn't realize how accustomed he had gotten to experiencing AR through devices. Having AROs pop up in his natural vision was just weird.
"Alright Jack, here's a salve you need to take with you and apply daily for a week. Keep the area around the datajack dry and clean it with a light degreaser." Dr. Hauser handed Jack a small plastic bag containing a small bottle of medication, a bottle of aspirin, and paper directions that the ork thought rather quaint. "The diagnostic software on the datajack should finish in the next minute or so. Once it's complete, the easiest way to start the setup wizard is to directly connect to your commlink. It should run automatically. Other than that, you're done here. Tell Chapel I said hello."
Hopping off the table, Jack steadied himself. Head pounding, he fished the aspirin out of the bag and took a handful dry. "Thanks Doc," Jack said, "I'll pass on your regards. I appreciate the steady hand."
Zoe Custom Clothiers, UCAS Downtown Hub, Denver, 3:00 PM August 8th, 2075
"Stop shifting," Davis said, "I've got a reputation to uphold and I am not letting you walk out of here with a poorly tailored suit." The dwarf tailor jabbed Jack in the hand with one of his pins. The ork was initially surprised by how unfriendly the tailor was, but slowly realized the quality of the dwarf's work as he looked around the shop. He figured Davis could get away with it. Eyeing the ork closely, the tailor asked, "Hey, you aren't planning on bulking up any, are ya? No heavy lifting or anymore of this vat muscle? 'Cause this suit is going to be tailored with millimeter precision. You get buff or fat and the warranty is void."
Jack sighed, he almost thought he'd be happier getting shot in the gut than having to deal with this squat bastard. Still, the suit looked wiz.
Annette's Antiques, UCAS Sector, Denver, 10:00 AM August 9th, 2075
Dressed to the nines in his new Zoe Executive Suite suit, Jack entered Annette's Antiques with a confident air. An appropriately antique door bell rang as he entered the shop; an old human woman peeking out from the back room. The briefest glint of fear crossed her face as she noticed Jack was an ork, but it cleared quickly when she realized the suit he was wearing was almost certainly more expensive than anything in the shop. "Hello there, stranger! What can I do for you today?"
"Annette, I presume?" Jack asked. When the woman nodded, the ork smiled and said, "Pleasure to meet you, seniorita. My name's Diego and I'm looking for something special for a friend of mine... something mechanical."
Annette made a face. "That's kind of an odd request, Diego, but I think I might be able to fix you up right. Come over here and take a look at these clocks. Old analog devices, one of them even requires winding a spring, if you can believe that!" Jack looked through the clocks, mildly interested but not quite sure it was what Nic would want. "Wiz, but I don't know if that quite fits the bill. Do you have anything that's more, I don't know, hands-on?"
Annette scowled for a few seconds before her face lit up. "You're friend's a tinker? I think I've got just the thing. Someone just brought this thing into the shop the other day. It's mid-20th Century tech from Vegas. Follow me." Gesturing toward the back-room, the woman walked into the back and toward a bulky object hidden under a tarp. Yanking the tarp off, Annette revealed an antique slot machine. With gusto, the woman announced, "The old One-Armed Bandit! It's actually not quite in working order, but maybe your friend would prefer that, so they can tinker with it to get it back into working order. It's yours for an even 400
but the shipping's on you.""Shipping's on me and it doesn't work? I'll give you 200 at best... he might not even be able to find parts," the ork said with feigned affront.
Sighing heavily, Annette responded, "Fine, fine... 250 and not a nuyen-less. Deal?"
"Deal," Jack said, shaking Annette's hand firmly.
Nic's Knacks, Aurora Warrens, 7:00 AM August 10th, 2075
With the soykaf machine in working order, Jack helped himself to a fresh cup of soykaf before settling in to read the current day's issue of the Denver Tribune. With his new datajack, he didn't even have to put on his glasses to read the digital copy. Reading through the headlines, the ork spat soykaf across the table. Dios mío! Jack thought, as he scanned the contents of the Tribune. With his head for business, the ork started to connect the dots. Looks like everything came to a head... the UCAS must have used the information they had on BioGene to get concessions both from the Sioux Nation and BioGene. Probably got a nice deal on this PX57 gas they almost certainly developed from Crimson Fire. That's scary as drek... and looks like they cleaned up some of the loose ends. Sorry Twoman, we didn't even know ya, hombre.
Quickly clipping the pertinent articles, Jack queued up a message to the rest of the team, including Overkill. The ork hoped his friend wasn't having to deal with too much trouble back in Berlin.
<<@Team [JustJack] Check this out, amigos. Make sure to keep your heads down for a bit, let the heat die down and we should be okay | File Attached>>
The Corps were always the winners in these deals, but as long as he was still breathing, Jack would accept the consolation prize. He had a full day ahead of him and afterwards... NAGO!!!
Waffles Anytime, Downtown UCAS Hub, Denver, 2:00 AM August 11th, 2075
The concert had been great. Underneath his armor jacket and clothing, Jack's body was temporarily tattooed with bruises from head to toe. He was pretty sure Dr. Hauser wouldn't be pleased with his extracurricular activities, but he had checked the datajack and it was still firmly seated in place. On top of it all, he was pretty sure he might have sent some drekhead to the hospital with a well placed elbow.
"Man, that was awesome, Diego!" CPL Jason Sinclair of the ZDF Border Forces said from the other side of the table, digging into a large plate of waffles. "Thanks so much for scoring those tickets. You've really got the hook-up!"
Jack contemplated Jason as he dug into his own giant plate of myco-waffles. The human fans of Goblin Rock were always an odd bunch. Jason was a pretty fit kid, but had taken his lumps at the show. He was probably targeted for his race, to be perfectly honest, but he didn't seem to care. "Hey man, anything I can do to improve the morale of our Zone Defense Force." Jack threw a lazy salute and laughed. "But no problem on the tickets, I get lucky sometimes in my line of work and meet the right people, you know?"
Laughing along with him, Jason saluted back and lowered into his middle finger extended. "Frag off, dude. You know I'd love to drop the ZDF and do the kind of work you do. Meeting interesting people, making sure they don't get geeked, rubbing elbows with the rich and famous... that's got to be awesome. What's the chances you might be covering Tayvon Charles? That would be crazy?"
Shaking his head, Jack said, "I doubt I'll be covering down on that hombre. Most of my clientele are a little more discrete. They usually have more dangerous enemies than a football player would. I think the ZDF occasionally rolls those kinds of bad guys up. In fact, I've got an on-going contract to protect a client from a bad dude who goes by the name of Lynx. I heard your vatos took him down a week ago. If he somehow gets released and you hear about it, can you let me know? That stuff is public record, but sometimes it takes your people a while to update the information. Every second counts in my line of work..."
Mid-bite, Jason looked like he didn't quite understand what Jack was asking him. Swallowing, he shrugged and said, "Sure, Diego. As long as I won't get in trouble for it and it helps out with your biz, I can give you a head's up."
"That's all I ask, amigo. So, is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see the waitress?" Throwing up his fist, Jack banged his head with a smile across his face.
Hubert's Apartment, Aurora Warrens, 6:00 AM August 4th, 2075
Amy's cooking at the stove, whistling merrily when Hubert finds her in his kitchen at such an early hour. "There's hot tea ready for ya. I'm making chocolate chip pancakes for the kids, do you want chocolate chips in yours too?" Hubert smiles back to her. "Why not."
As they sit down to eat, waiting for the kids to wake up, Amy brings up the focus she found at the sacrifice site. "If you don't mind, I thought I'd ask what that's worth on the streets and what it does. It seems pretty special but I can't use it, I don't think."
"Oh it's a pretty simple focus to help with ritual magic. I can take it off your hands if you want. Would 1600 be okay with you?"
"Don't bother, you can just keep it. Or sell it and use the money to buy something for your community. Whatever you want. After all you've done for me, it's the least I can do. As you can guess, my run's over now and I was paid preeeetty well. I think my abilities really played a role in our success, and the team seemed to appreciate me. I can't compare with others much, but they seemed pretty good at what they do, and they've been nice to me. That's all I can ask for."
"I know Overkill, and I've met Jack, and they're stand-up guys. I'm sure you'll be fine with them. Good job Amy. So are you taking the kids back to your apartment this morning?"
"Yeah, of course. Though I bet Kevin has seen enough of us for a little while and he'll want to be by himself for a bit. That's fine."
"I'll miss them you know, even though it takes a lot of energy out of me and sort of puts me back on my work, but I don't mind. I'm sure Sam will be happy to go back home."
"Well her home is gonna change soon. I wanna find a better place, with constant power, and decent matrix access, and hot water. Maybe closer to this area too, for a change."
"That'd be great, you won't have any excuse not to visit often."
They both smiled and continued on with small talk. Sam eventually joined in and ate her adoptive mother's pancakes with appetite. Amy just looked at her with tenderness and considered how happy she was to finally come out of poverty, and be able to offer something decent to this little girl who so deserved it. To be honest, Amy wasn't running the shadows just for her, but she was still a part of the motivation.
Curtnick's Bar, Aurora Warrens, 4:45 PM August 4th, 2075
Amy left Sam with Ram again, promising him that it would only be for an hour or two, and arrived early at the bar. Curtnick's was only half full, mostly with fans of some sport Amy didn't recognize nor care about playing in AR. This time, when Wendy comes to ask her what she wants, she opts for some kind of mixed drink called a Sunny Pixie, just because she's happy to buy something fancy (and easily afford it!), and she felt like celebrating anyway. Enjoying the moment, she waited for her activist friend to arrive, randomly shifting her gaze back and forth between astral and physical for the fun of it.
Amy's cooking at the stove, whistling merrily when Hubert finds her in his kitchen at such an early hour. "There's hot tea ready for ya. I'm making chocolate chip pancakes for the kids, do you want chocolate chips in yours too?" Hubert smiles back to her. "Why not."
As they sit down to eat, waiting for the kids to wake up, Amy brings up the focus she found at the sacrifice site. "If you don't mind, I thought I'd ask what that's worth on the streets and what it does. It seems pretty special but I can't use it, I don't think."
"Oh it's a pretty simple focus to help with ritual magic. I can take it off your hands if you want. Would 1600 be okay with you?"
"Don't bother, you can just keep it. Or sell it and use the money to buy something for your community. Whatever you want. After all you've done for me, it's the least I can do. As you can guess, my run's over now and I was paid preeeetty well. I think my abilities really played a role in our success, and the team seemed to appreciate me. I can't compare with others much, but they seemed pretty good at what they do, and they've been nice to me. That's all I can ask for."
"I know Overkill, and I've met Jack, and they're stand-up guys. I'm sure you'll be fine with them. Good job Amy. So are you taking the kids back to your apartment this morning?"
"Yeah, of course. Though I bet Kevin has seen enough of us for a little while and he'll want to be by himself for a bit. That's fine."
"I'll miss them you know, even though it takes a lot of energy out of me and sort of puts me back on my work, but I don't mind. I'm sure Sam will be happy to go back home."
"Well her home is gonna change soon. I wanna find a better place, with constant power, and decent matrix access, and hot water. Maybe closer to this area too, for a change."
"That'd be great, you won't have any excuse not to visit often."
They both smiled and continued on with small talk. Sam eventually joined in and ate her adoptive mother's pancakes with appetite. Amy just looked at her with tenderness and considered how happy she was to finally come out of poverty, and be able to offer something decent to this little girl who so deserved it. To be honest, Amy wasn't running the shadows just for her, but she was still a part of the motivation.
Curtnick's Bar, Aurora Warrens, 4:45 PM August 4th, 2075
Amy left Sam with Ram again, promising him that it would only be for an hour or two, and arrived early at the bar. Curtnick's was only half full, mostly with fans of some sport Amy didn't recognize nor care about playing in AR. This time, when Wendy comes to ask her what she wants, she opts for some kind of mixed drink called a Sunny Pixie, just because she's happy to buy something fancy (and easily afford it!), and she felt like celebrating anyway. Enjoying the moment, she waited for her activist friend to arrive, randomly shifting her gaze back and forth between astral and physical for the fun of it.
Curtnick's Bar, Aurora Warrens, 4:45 PM August 4th, 2075
Amy spotted Chomsky's familiar face as he entered the bar. The activist wass looking much better than he did the other night, and the lack of lines around his eyes seemed to indicate he was getting a decent amount of sleep. He was dressed in a simple polo shirt and jeans, and smiled as soon as he spotted his elven friend.
Stopping Wendy on the way in, he spoke briefly to her, and then headed over to the table. He embraced Amy warmly before sitting down. As she took her seat, she noticed a burly looking man with a shaved head and an earpiece follow Chomsky in and take a spot at the bar He looked around the bar slowly, and his eyes hidden behind his mirror shades. Looking askance at Chomsky, she inclined her head at his companion sitting ten feet away.
"Apologies, Shannon insisted he accompany me as a precaution. He seems a nice enough fellow, if not a talkative one." He thanks Wendy as she drops off his beer, and then says, "I'm fine, I'm glad to see you are too - how are Sam and Kevin?"
Amy spotted Chomsky's familiar face as he entered the bar. The activist wass looking much better than he did the other night, and the lack of lines around his eyes seemed to indicate he was getting a decent amount of sleep. He was dressed in a simple polo shirt and jeans, and smiled as soon as he spotted his elven friend.
Stopping Wendy on the way in, he spoke briefly to her, and then headed over to the table. He embraced Amy warmly before sitting down. As she took her seat, she noticed a burly looking man with a shaved head and an earpiece follow Chomsky in and take a spot at the bar He looked around the bar slowly, and his eyes hidden behind his mirror shades. Looking askance at Chomsky, she inclined her head at his companion sitting ten feet away.
"Apologies, Shannon insisted he accompany me as a precaution. He seems a nice enough fellow, if not a talkative one." He thanks Wendy as she drops off his beer, and then says, "I'm fine, I'm glad to see you are too - how are Sam and Kevin?"
Curtnick's Bar, Aurora Warrens, 4:52 PM August 4th, 2075
Amy can't help but to cringe a little inside at the mention of Shannon. Shaking off her misplaced jealousy she gets up to give Chomsky a warm hug. "I'm so glad to see you, you look great. I was worried for you after what happened last time."
They sit down and get comfortable. "So I'm done with my work, and I think you need to know more about what happened, cause it could affect your plans. I think you'll be pretty safe for a while, depending on what you do next. Here, go silent on your link, I want to show you something."
Pulling a universal cable from her custom-build commlink, she connects with Chomsky's and transfers a dossier she had compiled with information from her run. "Here, I'll let you take a look, take your time."
In it, Chomsky finds a summary of what happened, specifically information about the Los Mags and Crimson Fire and even Bradshere, Lynx being the one responsible for the interruption at the rally (and minimal information about the police murders and profiles of the victims), and most important of all, a description of Biogene's involvement and what Overkill had dug on it.
Meanwhile, Amy sips from her funky looking drink.
"As you can see, I have good reasons to believe that you're much less in danger than before, and we have a much better idea of the nature of the threat. It's not exactly good news, but from what I can tell you'll be safe for as long as you don't go public again. What do you think?"
Amy can't help but to cringe a little inside at the mention of Shannon. Shaking off her misplaced jealousy she gets up to give Chomsky a warm hug. "I'm so glad to see you, you look great. I was worried for you after what happened last time."
They sit down and get comfortable. "So I'm done with my work, and I think you need to know more about what happened, cause it could affect your plans. I think you'll be pretty safe for a while, depending on what you do next. Here, go silent on your link, I want to show you something."
Pulling a universal cable from her custom-build commlink, she connects with Chomsky's and transfers a dossier she had compiled with information from her run. "Here, I'll let you take a look, take your time."
In it, Chomsky finds a summary of what happened, specifically information about the Los Mags and Crimson Fire and even Bradshere, Lynx being the one responsible for the interruption at the rally (and minimal information about the police murders and profiles of the victims), and most important of all, a description of Biogene's involvement and what Overkill had dug on it.
Meanwhile, Amy sips from her funky looking drink.
"As you can see, I have good reasons to believe that you're much less in danger than before, and we have a much better idea of the nature of the threat. It's not exactly good news, but from what I can tell you'll be safe for as long as you don't go public again. What do you think?"
Curtnick's Bar, Aurora Warrens, 4:52 PM August 4th, 2075
Chomsky takes his time reading through the material, rereading certiain sections. He gave a low whistle, and said, "I had no idea it ran so deep. It is disgusting what these corporations will do to turn a profit." Grimacing, he continues, "I will bring this to Shannon, and explain the situation to her. I think if we can focus on helping those already addicted, and leave off any press conferences, we should be able to keep off of Biogene's radar."
He reaches over and takes her hand in his. "Thank you, truly. I know that you and your friends put your lives on the line for me, and I won't forget it."
Chomsky takes his time reading through the material, rereading certiain sections. He gave a low whistle, and said, "I had no idea it ran so deep. It is disgusting what these corporations will do to turn a profit." Grimacing, he continues, "I will bring this to Shannon, and explain the situation to her. I think if we can focus on helping those already addicted, and leave off any press conferences, we should be able to keep off of Biogene's radar."
He reaches over and takes her hand in his. "Thank you, truly. I know that you and your friends put your lives on the line for me, and I won't forget it."
Curtnick's Bar, Aurora Warrens, 4:53 PM August 4th, 2075
"It's the least I could do, and I'm thankful that the team accepted to pitch in that day. You know how much I support your cause."
Amy frees one of her hands to fetch a small credstick from her bag. "Speaking of which, this is for you. It's not much, but for the first time in my life I have enough to afford doing this. Please accept it, it means a lot to me to make this modest contribution."
On the credstick is 500.
"If there's anything else I can do, please do not hesitate to let me know. We should keep in contact in case either of us hears more about any of this. And you can come visit, I'll have a new, better place to call home soon, I'll let you know."
"It's the least I could do, and I'm thankful that the team accepted to pitch in that day. You know how much I support your cause."
Amy frees one of her hands to fetch a small credstick from her bag. "Speaking of which, this is for you. It's not much, but for the first time in my life I have enough
to afford doing this. Please accept it, it means a lot to me to make this modest contribution."On the credstick is 500
."If there's anything else I can do, please do not hesitate to let me know. We should keep in contact in case either of us hears more about any of this. And you can come visit, I'll have a new, better place to call home soon, I'll let you know."
Curtnick's Bar, Aurora Warrens, 4:55 PM August 4th, 2075
Chomsky accepts the credstick from Amy with a smile. "Thank you again. It seems that I am doubly in your debt. I will make sure that this is put to good use."
Finishing his drink, he says, "I will be happy to visit, I look forward to seeing Sam and Kevin again. I know that Shannon plans on trying to open community center, assuming we get the funds. I hope that we will see you and the children there too."
Chomsky accepts the credstick from Amy with a smile. "Thank you again. It seems that I am doubly in your debt. I will make sure that this is put to good use."
Finishing his drink, he says, "I will be happy to visit, I look forward to seeing Sam and Kevin again. I know that Shannon plans on trying to open community center, assuming we get the funds. I hope that we will see you and the children there too."
Amy's old apartment, Aurora Warrens, 7PM August 4th, 2075
Overkill arrives at Amy's door with Oppenheimer in a cat carrier. He explains that circumstances back in Berlin require him to leave the Free Zone and rejoin his companions. He isn't sure how long he will be gone, or if indeed he will return, but in the meantime he would like to give Oppenheimer to Sam, hoping she will enjoy a pet. He expresses how proud he is of her, and his regret at having to leave, and gives hugs all around before he leaves.
The hugs were heartfelt and Amy was sad to see her friend go. He helped her during her very first run, and his presence was comforting. In a way, his leaving meant for Amy that she was now on her own, almost as though she had graduated from some kind of apprenticeship. Sam was already teasing the poor Oppenheimer who had probably never seen a kid before - and the furry thing didn't seem to like it either.
Amy's new home, Aurora Warrens, 3PM August 7th, 2075
Sam was running around and chasing the desperate Hopper, as the cat was now called, in the tidy little apartment. With all the furniture now, there was much less room for playing and the place looked cozy and welcoming, just like Amy was hoping. Today had been moving day and she was finally relaxing in the new leather couch she had bought second-hand, though it was almost as new. A couple of friends were drinking beer and eating pizza in the kitchen. They deserved it for all the heavy lifting they had been doing. Amy didn't move anything from her old place, which she had decided to keep, but all the new stuff had to be moved in, at least this apartment complex had a functioning elevator, what a change! "Hey guys, you all come back around 9 tonight, we're going out and first round's on me!"
Overkill arrives at Amy's door with Oppenheimer in a cat carrier. He explains that circumstances back in Berlin require him to leave the Free Zone and rejoin his companions. He isn't sure how long he will be gone, or if indeed he will return, but in the meantime he would like to give Oppenheimer to Sam, hoping she will enjoy a pet. He expresses how proud he is of her, and his regret at having to leave, and gives hugs all around before he leaves.
The hugs were heartfelt and Amy was sad to see her friend go. He helped her during her very first run, and his presence was comforting. In a way, his leaving meant for Amy that she was now on her own, almost as though she had graduated from some kind of apprenticeship. Sam was already teasing the poor Oppenheimer who had probably never seen a kid before - and the furry thing didn't seem to like it either.
Amy's new home, Aurora Warrens, 3PM August 7th, 2075
Sam was running around and chasing the desperate Hopper, as the cat was now called, in the tidy little apartment. With all the furniture now, there was much less room for playing and the place looked cozy and welcoming, just like Amy was hoping. Today had been moving day and she was finally relaxing in the new leather couch she had bought second-hand, though it was almost as new. A couple of friends were drinking beer and eating pizza in the kitchen. They deserved it for all the heavy lifting they had been doing. Amy didn't move anything from her old place, which she had decided to keep, but all the new stuff had to be moved in, at least this apartment complex had a functioning elevator, what a change! "Hey guys, you all come back around 9 tonight, we're going out and first round's on me!"
Amy's apartment, Aurora Warrens, 10AM August 10th, 2075
Amy's having breakfast with Sam, and she put up the news on the screen in front of them, asking Sam if she can read the first title.
"Re-, Re-, Rebuild-, Rebuilding ... To- Together..."
Amy raises her head and gasps. "Did I read it wrong Aunt Amy?"
"No no sweetie, but I have to make a quick call."
<<@Chomsky [Amy's voice] "Congrats for the funding, this is such great news for everyone in the Warrens. Did you see the latest about Biogene? I hope this means they're done with their experiments... Just be careful all right?">>
Amy's having breakfast with Sam, and she put up the news on the screen in front of them, asking Sam if she can read the first title.
"Re-, Re-, Rebuild-, Rebuilding ... To- Together..."
Amy raises her head and gasps. "Did I read it wrong Aunt Amy?"
"No no sweetie, but I have to make a quick call."
<<@Chomsky [Amy's voice] "Congrats for the funding, this is such great news for everyone in the Warrens. Did you see the latest about Biogene? I hope this means they're done with their experiments... Just be careful all right?">>
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