The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:17 PM September 11, 2075

Sipping his wine, Grease adjusts the white noise generator built into his suit to drown out any potential eavesdroppers. "I think this place is private enough; considering we've been here this long already. Besides, Chapel is paying. I hear the swordfish is excellent." Seeing Melpomene wince, he tabs down the volume on his white noise generator slightly.

"I'd like to get over there and see what we're dealing with tonight, at least. I'm not saying we have to go in, but things are only going to get worse as we wait for the actual auction." He furrows his brow. "We have to make a choice- how much information we have before we hit him; and how much security we know he'll have. The less information we have, the less security. It's not a position I like being in."

He nods at Jack. "I think we can bring light weapons in, or at least try. I know I have a throwaway that I won't mind losing to border patrol. Either way, we'll be able to meet with Chapel's contact on the other side." He frowns. "I think Rhex and Bumble are going to have to sit this one out, unfortunately. There's not a lot I can do about that. And frankly, that takes away a lot of my firepower. I'll have to rely on my winning charm to earn my cut." He grins.

Turning to face Melpomene, he adds, "Oh, and I've never worked with this Coyote before. I trust Chapel will connect us with professionals, but a backup-backup plan wouldn't hurt, either. If things get hairy maybe we try to sneak into the Sioux sector, then try to get into the UCAS from there. Might be easier than going back the same way we came."

Looking at Jack again, he smiles. "So, you'd like a plan going in? I can't say I'm surprised. I'm willing to oblige you, rather than keep you in the dark as per normal. I think it'd be easy enough for us to get travel passes claiming we are going to a particular event or club. We're all dressed to the 9s anyways, I don't see why it wouldn't make sense to have us travel across the sector for a good party. And who could blame us for protecting ourselves?" He says, tapping his chest where you presume his weapon is stored. "The nightlife can be very dangerous. You and I can be escorting the young ladies."

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:20 PM September 11, 2075

Jack raised an eyebrow. "After the success of our last job, I don't think the UCAS-Sioux border is going to work, amigo. They're not friendly at the best of times. But a back-up to the back-up isn't a bad idea. Chapel said there wasn't really a deadline. We could try to lie low in the CAS at a safe house if we can't clear the border. My main worry is someone tracking down the items. I know Snap's spirits can do that..."

Trailing off, the ork gathered his thoughts, trying to work all of the angles. "We definitely need to head over there tonight. I feel like we really need to do this tonight as well, if we're going to break into the house. Trying to pull this off during daylight hours isn't going to work. With the auction being tomorrow night, I just don't see another option than trying to hit them late tonight."

Pausing to take a swig of his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Jack continued, "Another option would be to figure out who the transportation team is and replace them for this delivery. We have more time to set it up, but there's less time available if things go to drek. Then again, we also wouldn't be relying on questionable security codes."

Finishing off his beer, the ork set it aside. "In any event, whatever we decide to do, we need to get over the border sooner rather than later. I think some of the other details can be worked over once we get there. If we need any significant gear, we're probably going to have to get it on the CAS side."

"Is everyone ready to try to head over the border? I've got a magazine of ammunition I'd rather not try to get through the border, so I'm going to have to do something about that... What about the rest of you?" Jack looked around the table.

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:21 PM September 11, 2075

Snap shrugs her shoulders. "I'm basically ready to go now. I don't have anything illegal to carry, nor anything illegal to smuggle across the border. I will need to head home and get my nice dress, if you want to make it look like you two are escorting us to a nice event, but apart from that, I'm good to go."

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:21 PM September 11, 2075

"I've got some gear back at my place I'd need to grab. My cover SIN will allow me to bring across a few other items, including flash-bang grenades. If asked, my cover is I'm a consultant for a firm that does security for people in the entertainment industry. So you're cover story about going to a big event will fly, as long as we're on the same page

I want to do this now. Something goes sideways, we still have time to recover."

Mel checks the status of the algorithms running for the items while she talks.

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:21 PM September 11, 2075

"Well, that may change things a bit, possibly for the better," Jack responded. "Instead of us going as two couples, Mel and I can act as bodyguards for whatever up and coming star Grease is supposed to be and his elven lady friend. It probably makes more sense that way."

With a considered look, he added, "I'm still not sure if we should try to get any kind of grenades through the border though... We may have semi-legit permits for that kind of gear here in the UCAS, but I don't know if the CAS is going to care."

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:21 PM September 11, 2075

Grease smiles. "I felt it would have been gauche for me to suggest that you act as my Bodyguard Jack; but I'm glad you brought it up. That will fit a lot better with what they're expecting. One thing I'd like is to drive my own car; that may be tricky if we're going with the whole "transporting me as a trid star" angle." He scratches his chin. "Of course, I could be on Snap's staff instead- and that way, I'll be the one talking to the border agent since I'll be in the driver's seat. My fake SIN *is* in marketing, after all.."

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:21 PM September 11, 2075

Things seemed to be falling into place. "So two bodyguards and a hype-man. The covers mesh pretty well, assuming Snap is a celebrity of some sort. How about a hot, new Warrens rapper or a street artist? I don't know if it would really matter what her SIN said..."

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:21 PM September 11, 2075

Mel nods, liking this plan. "That cover could be solid." She looks at Snap. "You don't really need to know anything about the street scene, unless the border guards start asking specific questions. If they do, I can coach you over commlink. Either way, I think we can rock the shit out of this."

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:21 PM September 11, 2075

"While we're waiting, I'm going to see if I can find anything over in the CAS that would be appropriate. It's Friday, there should be plenty of things going on..."

Jack mentally activated the browser on his commlink and opened a search window, looking for any art related events open to the general public.

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:25 PM September 11, 2075

As Mel's food arrives, the team gets a message on their commlinks,

<<@Clients [Blocked] I understand you have a need to travel. Meet me at Ascension in 30 minutes, I'll be the one all in black.>>

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:25 PM September 11, 2075

Jack reviewed the message on his commlink. That place is pretty popular...

Looking around the table, the ork said, "I've been there. It's one of those AR/VR clubs. It's physically located downtown in the UCAS Hub, but I think most people that use it for biz visit in the Matrix. Who's going?"

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:26 PM September 11, 2075

Snap shakes her head, "If we are going to do this tonight, I have a few things I have to take care of back home. Once we go across we have no way of knowing how long it will be before we can get back, and I have to talk to Sam and Kevin. Grease, can you give me a ride?"

Grease drains his wine glass, and nods. "Sure thing. To be honest, I've got to pack and get myself ready too." Turning to Mel and Jack, he says, "Do you want me to drop you off at Nic's, or do you want to do the meet here?"

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:26 PM September 11, 2075

Mel shakes her head. "I've got about ten more minutes of searching, so I'll catch a cab back...I need to get home as well."

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:26 PM September 11, 2075

Jack weighed the convenience of taking Grease's taxi back to Nic's against the terror of taking Grease's taxi back to Nic's. Since he was unsure of how much this coyote business was going to set them back, terror won out. Pocketing the credstick, he said, "If I'm going to the meeting, it's going to be in AR, so I can really do it anywhere. Since time's a factor, I'll take up your offer and hitch a ride back to Nic's so I can decide on equipment depending on whatever answer we get from Onyx."

Glancing at Mel, he said, "I'd like you along if possible. The meet isn't for another thirty minutes, but last time I was visiting that club in the Matrix, I felt like I stuck out just a bit..."

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:26 PM September 11, 2075


Mel smiles. "Yeah...I can see you might stick out a little. You want to meet virtual, or you want me to come with you, body and soul-like? Can we get back to a static location in thirty minutes? I'd rather not get into a car accident in the middle of a meeting..."

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:26 PM September 11, 2075

Jack shook his head. "Nah, Ascension's located downtown... I don't know if we could even hop a shuttle to get there in time. I was planning on meeting with Onyx's persona in the Ascension host from wherever I am in thirty minutes. We can just both head to our homes and enter the host from there. Grease is nice enough to let us use his taxi when we're working together, although it's a little bit... quirky."

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:27 PM September 11, 2075

"So we're staying? Good. Give me a chance to finish up here. And EAT...shit, almost forgot."

Mel tears open the bag and begins to wolf the burger down.

She shakes her head, clearing her throat of food. "Sometimes when I'm doing five things at once, I completely forget to friggin' eat. One time they found me unconscious because I hadn't eaten for three days."

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:27 PM September 11, 2075

Grease stands, letting Snap out of the booth. "I'd like to dial into the meeting with Onyx as well. I don't know much about Coyotes, but I know when someone is trying to fleece me. I can make sure we aren't suckered into paying for his rust-proofing."

He nods at Jack. "In the meantime, let's send a message to the arms dealer in the CAS, letting him know we'd like to meet later this evening. Ideally we won't have to use him, but I don't want to have to get him out of bed if we end up taking that route. Besides, I'm sure there's something he has we wouldn't mind bringing along."

The elf stretches, readjusting his suit in a finicky manner. "What's the point of a suit like this if I can't use it to impress? At any rate, send me a message if you need the cab or anything. It works fine," he adds with emphasis, "Although certain orks are a bit too rough with the paintwork, and are punished accordingly."

He is about to leave when he catches himself. "That reminds me- we didn't discuss this, but I have a proposal. Since we have an advance on this job, last time we took our shares separately, and spent them accordingly. I propose we keep it as a pool for the job, and divide the remainder after we complete our mission successfully. That is, provided that makes sense to the three of you."

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:27 PM September 11, 2075

"A pool sounds good to me."

Mel takes another bite, chews, swallows and clears her throat. "One other thing. What about the side job? Are we committed to killing Chen?"

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:27 PM September 11, 2075

The elf frowns. "Frankly, I'd prefer not. We basically assured the Johnson we wouldn't. However, Chapel is the one footing the actual bill. If this 'priceless art' turns out to be flea-market fare, then taking out the target is the only value he'll get for his 100k."

He sits back down at the edge of the booth. "So, I guess what I'm saying is that I'll go with the vote of the group. I'm pretty flush right now, but I wouldn't want to take any 'yen out of someone else's pocket. I don't have any reservations about that aspect of the job other than personal; as a professional, I'm willing to go with the majority."

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:27 PM September 11, 2075

Jack considered their options before speaking. "The guy seems like a piece of drek, so I won't cry any rivers if he happens to end up with a 9mm migraine by the end of the job. With that said, this lady, who claims she still loves this guy, is paying us a ton of cash just to make him look bad. What's she going to do when she has even more 'yen and is colérico that we geeked her hombre? This run seems personal, not some corp-based play. I'd be really worried about blow back from her."

Thinking through what he just said, the ork summarized, "I guess what I'm saying is that I don't think we should go out of our way to earn the bonus. If it becomes a necessary part of the job to earn our pay, so be it."

Ascension Host, 6:55 PM September 11, 2075


<< Jack, Mel and Grease each arrive virtually at the entrance to Ascension's host. Jack's persona icon the same basic and boring anthropomorphic figure; its one concession to individuality still the small winged helmet and the wings on its feet. Grease simply manifested as a digital version of his physical self, while Mel appears as an elegant woman, swathed in a white robe, her face hidden behind a tragedy mask. Jack and Mel glide through the Matrix, while Grease's avatar moves jerkily and starts and stops due to the lag of the Public Grid.

As the three approach the towering edifice of the host, Jack says, "Follow me, I've done this before." The three ascend into the sky, following a long line of other patrons. They are greeted in figures hooded and robed in a similar fashion to Mel. They hand the runners a virtual piece of paper with an elaborate wax seal, and as the runners accept the paper, their personas each apply a MARK on the host, and the host deducts 20 from their accounts.

The group enters the ground floor, and are immediately grounded, their normal three dimensional movement cut off. They are forced to walk through the virtual crowd, who appear as a cornucopia of varied colored and shaped figures moving about. It is impossible to tell which of them are in the club physically, and which are at home and visiting virtually the way the team is.

Jack turns to Mel and yells over the music, "I've been wondering, why can't we fly in here? I couldn't last time I was here, and I can't now."

Mel answers without turning to him, her virtual senses extended, feeling as always more at home here than in the physical world, "Sculpted system." When she fails to get a response from Jack, and notices the confused look on his face, she continues, "The creators of this host have written their own rules for personas entering it. They've established gravity in here, probably to make it appear more like the actual club."

Jack wonders what else you could program a host to do differently from the rest of the Matrix, but beckons the other two to follow him. They move up the staircase to the second and then third floor, opening the door and walking through. As before, the silence is like a slap in the face after the noise of the first two floors. "I met my last contact here, let's look around."

Several other patrons were on this floor, each engrossed in conversation with one another, moving slowly throughout the labyrinth of rooms. None seemed to match Onyx's description. The team began to walk in a circular pattern, until Mel touched Grease and Jack on the arm and pointed. "Over there."

Looking in the direction she pointed, the team saw an incredibly tall figure, humanoid in shape, made completely of a black crystalline substance. It beckoned them closer, its arms and legs so spindly it seemed impossible that it would be able to support the weight of its body. The group approached it, and when they had gotten near, it said, "So. What can I do for you?">>

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:55 PM September 11, 2075

<<Ascension looked the same as the last time he had visited. Given that the host was strongly correlated with the physical club, Jack figured they didn't change it all that much unless the club itself was undergoing a remodeling. As the three members of the team walked around the club, Jack kept his eye out for Smokey, on the off chance the odd conspiracy theorist was logged in.>> Given how paranoico that guy is, he's probably changed his icon...

<<Walking up the stairs to the third floor, Jack admired Mel's icon. Even with his limited knowledge of programming, he knew that a persona icon with that level of detail took a lot of time, care, and skill to achieve. That hopefully reflected well on her abilities as a decker. Looking over at Grease, Jack did his best not to chuckle in the real world. Accessing the matrix through the public grid made the elf's icon look like it was alternately high on uppers and downers as the lag and noise took their toll.>> How fitting...

<<Once they had finally located the persona they presumed to be Onyx, Jack looked to Grease to take the lead. When the elf did not, he responded. "Hola, our friend from church told us to ask you for help. We've got a... party to attend in the CAS tonight, but none of us are well traveled and aren't sure what our options are for getting there and back. Our friend from church thought you might be able to help us out.">>

As Jack spoke in the matrix, his commlink pinged in the real world. Reading through the message quickly, he mentally composed a message to the team.

<<@Team [JustJack] I've got a line on another fixer in the CAS who will be available from 2100 to 2300 once we get to the other side. In case we want to touch base with her in addition to Stone>>

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:55 PM September 11, 2075

<<The crystalline figure chuckled, an odd sound coming from something that looked like it belonged in someone's nightmares. "He sent me some virgins, did he? Not to worry, your in good hands with me." In point of fact, given the spiky projections in the avatar's appendages, in his hands looked about the last place one would want to reside. Grease fervently hoped the coyote's real world persona wasn't as, well, spiky as his avatar's.

"So, you've got a couple options, and I need to know what you are looking for so I can make arrangements and calculate compensation for my services. There are a lot of factors to be weighed in."

One jagged finger raises in the air, "First, we have quantity and quality of party attendees, so to speak. How many of you are attending? Do I have to make special accommodations for the size of any of your party."

Another finger joins the first, "Second, party gifts, we'll say. Are any of these things that the sector authorities would frown on you giving to your hosts? How many gifts are you bringing that you can't carry on your persons?"

He raises a third finger, "Do you wish a private vehicle, or are you okay with traveling coach, as it were. Mind you, while I'm reasonably sure that none of my passengers are border patrol informants, I can't control what the other passengers may say once they depart my vehicles."

"I may have other questions depending on your answers, but that is good for a baseline." >>

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 6:55 PM September 11, 2075

<<@JustJack [Melpomene] Jack, please keep an eye out on my meat-side...I'm going to run cold-sim.>>


Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:55 PM September 11, 2075

<<Mel opened her eyes and let the simsense filters show her the wonder of the Matrix. She didn't care for Cold-sim very much...it was half-assing the Matrix, but she preferred it to AR, and she knew that Jack would watch her body while they were here.

She had been to Ascension a few times, and it appealed to her in a general way. There were a lot of posers and dilettantes here, but many of the patrons knew their music and let the DJs know it. She saw a few icons she knew and mentally straightened her dress (even though she knew that doing so did nothing to remove any wrinkles, as the only wrinkles that might be on her dress were mentally put there by Mel in the first place). She looked at Jack and smiled underneath her mask.>>

It's a good try...I can think of a couple of touches that would kick.

<<Then she saw Grease and winced.>>

He's on the fucking PubGrid? Ugggghhh.

<<She immediately actively ignored the sputtering and flickering of Grease, looking for the man called Onyx. It wasn't long before she spotted the figure in crystalline black. She smiled at the icon's simple impressiveness, angling the others to him.>>

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:55 PM September 11, 2075

<< Noticing that Onyx had directly referenced Border Patrol informants, the ork figured they could stop beating around the bush. Jack's persona tilted his head and held up his hands. "Alright Onyx, since it looks like we've established that we're both who we say we are, let's just talk directly. To be honest, we'd really like to arrange to take our own vehicle into the CAS so that we can get to our target location. With that said, no matter how we get into the CAS, we want to set up another way out in case things get too hot.">>

<<Jack's persona glanced at his other two team members. Grease's persona appeared to have timed-out in the middle of slicking his hair back. The rigger was probably going to be less than pleased that Jack was being so direct, but the ork didn't care. They didn't have time for any of the fun and games with which the elf was so enamored. "To answer your questions... first, there are four of us: the largest is an ork. Second, we don't necessarily need to bring in much gear, we've got a couple of contacts in the CAS for that... but a few of us have restricted 'ware, our decker needs to bring their deck, and one of us is Awakened... and none of us have any CAS licenses. If bringing our own gear is an option, I wouldn't imagine anything heavier than an SMG. Finally, I think a private vehicle is a requirement. So what are our options, whether trying to go through the border semi-legally or avoiding security altogether?">>

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:57 PM September 11, 2075

<<Onyx clicks the tips of his fingers together as Jack speaks, taking in the team's needs. He pauses a moment as several outlandishly dressed skeletons pass by, lost in conversation with one another. When they are around the corner, he speaks.

"I would highly caution against trying to cross the border with restricted 'ware without proper licenses. The border crossings do have millimeter-wave scanners, and even if you only have a few pieces of illegal cyber, it is a crapshoot, only this time if you crap out it is guards with automatic weapons rather than the croupier who takes what the house is owed."

He shakes his head. "Can any of you cross the border legally? If so, your best bet would be to drive the vehicle across the border. Failing that, I can smuggle it across, but that isn't quick. I'll have to arrange for a transport, and if your party is tonight, that just isn't going to happen. If neither of those will work for you, you still have a few options."

He stretches, which makes his obsidian stick-like limbs crackle and seem on the verge of breaking before he continues. "If you have a throwaway SIN, you can rent a car. You might have to burn the SIN afterward, but that could just be cost of doing business. Second, you can try and boost a car, but that's risky depending on how long you need it, since the Tin Men can track you. Lastly, maybe Chapel can put you in touch with someone who can get you something that will fit your needs."

His stretching finished, he steeples his fingers and leans forward. "To our business, however. Private vehicle for four passengers, minimal equipment, no questions asked, you are looking at 5,000 , each way. In both cases I'll need all of the money before you board the vehicle. If you want to hold a ride for later, I'll need 20% upfront, and that holds it for 24 hours. This fee is non-refundable, although if you avail yourselves of the transport within that 24 hour period, I'll deduct it from the cost. If the you are looking to shake pursuit, whether its from the Tin Men or someone else, there's an extra 1,000 added on top as a surcharge.">>

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:57 PM September 11, 2075

<<Mel sits, straightening her robes again.

"My apologies if I sound uninformed, because this is the first time I've dealt with your type of service. Is there any way of keeping the private car while we are in the zone? Your man gets us across, then finds something to do for a short while, then meets back up with us and we come back across.">>

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:57 PM September 11, 2075

<<Onyx turns to Mel's avatar, peering as if to see behind the mask that hid her face. He laughs, the sound of which is like rocks sliding past one another.

"No apologies necessary. Just bear in mind that when I say "car", I don't mean automobile. I think that you would be slightly out of place if you were to try and drive the vehicle you will cross the border in around town." He chuckles again, "Private car - I like that.">>

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:57 PM September 11, 2075

<<If Jack's persona had a face, it would be frowning right now. The options Onyx was offering were far from ideal, but the ork figured they were probably the only ones they had. Thinking over what had been explained so far, he asked a follow-up question. "Just one thing... you mentioned we might have luck with one of our own crossing the border somewhat legally. Let's say that one of us did try to drive over but was caught with some kind of contraband. Do they just turn them away at the border or do the guards detain them? I'm not exactly clear on that...">>

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:57 PM September 11, 2075

<<Onyx turns from Mel to Jack and says, "Had I known I was going to be teaching an undergraduate course in border crossing, I would have charged extra." Several crystals around Onyx's eye move together in an odd-shaped pattern, and it takes a moment to realize he is winking.

"Depends what you are trying to bring across 'mano. You get caught with illegal 'ware, you are looking at a bunch of paperwork at the very least, along with a hefty fine. Pay the fine, you get a black mark on your SIN and are denied access to the border. Try to plead not-guilty or not pay the fine... You are looking at jail time until you do. Now, I'm not an attorney, but those fines can run upwards of 50,000 per illegal item. Try and bring across weapons? You are looking at a month cooling your heels in some Tin Man facility at least.">>

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:58 PM September 11, 2075

Opening a message window, Jack sent a message to the team.

<<@Team [JustJack] Alright, it really sounds like trying to legally cross with what's available to us right now isn't going to work. Even so, do we want to run the risk of losing a vehicle on the other side of the border? With that said, this guy is charging a fortune! Anyone want to take a crack at talking him down? I figure we're going to need at least a grand or two to get our hands on wheels when we get to the other side>>

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:58 PM September 11, 2075

Cracking his knuckles in real life, Grease decided to take a stab at talking the Coyote down.

<<Grease's persona makes an odd gesture where he pushes away from the table, his hands held together like he's about to pray. His persona changes rapidly; first it is stone faced, and immediately after with no transition he is wearing an enormous grin, like the kind a child would wear for a family photo. "We.. transport... time.. critical..." He skips a bit, then loudly announces, "LOST CARRIER SIGNAL".

After falling asleep for a few long moments, he perks back up and looks around, putting the same fake smile back on. "Apologies- I've never been good with getting a signal on this thing. I bought it at Stuffer Shack, and it may have gotten some beer on it.

Melpomene's rolls her eyes behind her exquisitely detailed mask. Grease doesn't notice, it would be a surprise if his resolution was as good as "build-a-blocks" on other personas. He continues, oblivious to his terrible taste.

"I understand you have costs you need to maintain, and setting aside a private transport for our team has an opportunity cost if we choose not to use it. However, I'd ask that given we are likely to do this many times in the future, you may help us a little bit on price. I can gaurantee that if I find your service acceptable, I know many, many people in a similiar line of work I can point your way. Not to mention that I will avail myself of your services on numerous occasions. I'm not interested in shopping around, our mutual friend has vouched for you. With that in mind, I'd like to start building a professional relationship that would benefit us both. If you're able to help me tonight, I can promise that we'll keep your transports running on a regular basis. Nothing is more frustrating than having a slow night, and the more friends like us you have, the fewer of those you'll run into.">>

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:58 PM September 11, 2075

<< Frowning Onyx rubs its eyes and shakes its head. "You have to get a better interface, You are giving me a headache looking at you." After hearing the proposal, it continues "I'm sorry, my friend, but my price is non-negotiable. While I certainly would appreciate the extra business, and I will endeavor to make your experience with my services the best possible, there are costs that I just can't cut down.

"However, given that nuyen is a concern, I have a counter-proposal for you. I have a competitor who is bringing something in to the CAS tomorrow night. He's been cutting in to my business, and as you'd imagine, I'd like to put a stop to that, if I could." He spreads his arms wide, "I know, I know, no honor among thieves, but a person has to eat, yes? At any rate, I happen to know the address of his private host where he keeps his business records. If you could crack it and find the information I'm looking for, I'd be willing to cut the price in half. Bear in mind that I wouldn't be surprised if you were to find some other paydata in his host, all of which would be yours to keep."

He steeples his fingers and lays itsjagged chin atop them. "What say you, are you interested?">>

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:58 PM September 11, 2075

<<Mel smiles underneath her mask.>>

Always something for something.

<<@Team [Melpomene] That shouldn't be a problem...sounds like a quick stealth-and-grab run. I'm down. >>

Third Floor, Ascension Host, 6:58 PM September 11, 2075

<<Mel nods. "I'm in."

Onyx grins, "Excellent." It snaps its fingers and a glowing cube appears, which it passes over to Mel. As Mel takes the cube in her hands, it transforms, the sides elongating and thinning, the icon hovering in the air and transforming itself. As it undergoes its transformation, she reaches under her robes and pulls out a small box. Jack peers over her shoulder as she opens it, and inside are a series of Greek letters. She chooses one of them and removes it, the box vanishing as she closes it.

Holding the letter in the palm of her hand, it swells into a rectangular shape, taking on the color and features of a synthesizer. Mel beckons with her fingers, and Jack and Grease can see that the icon that Onyx had handed to her has now transformed itself into sheet music, and Mel begins a quick little harmony on her instrument, the notes leaving the page and streaming into the synthesizer itself. When the page is blank, both it and the musical instrument vanish.

"I've got the address of the host. Why don't you stay here and chat while I take care of this?" With a quick wave, she walks to one of the walls and goes directly through it, vanishing from sight.

"Well then," says Onyx, "I guess I might as well have a drink. Would you like one?"


Ares Global Grid, 6:59 PM September 11, 2075

<<Within seconds of exiting the Ascension Host, Mel's persona had arrived at her destination. He bothered to spring for a sculpted host, so he either has lots of money or just expensive tastes. The host appeared to be a racetrack, the crowd all computer generated 'bots, the entrance guarded by men in yellow jackets marked 'Security' Time to earn my money..>>

Unknown Personal Host 6:59 PM September 11, 2075

<<Removing the box from her robe containing her instruments, she removes another letter, letting it grow until it takes the form of a viola. She begins to slowly pluck at the strings, making sure it is in tune, and then begins a soft, lilting lullabye. The notes travel the gap between Mel and the host and then return, the music imparting the information she requires. After a few seconds of playing, she ceases and waves away her instrument, floating across the space to the entrance to the racetrack.

Reaching the guards, she produces a lyre from under her robes, strumming it softly, "Hello gentlemen, I believe I am expected. The notes circle around the head of the security guards, and they both nod slowly, standing aside allowing her entrance.

When she gets inside she is almost run over by a car hurtling around the track, followed by a dozen others. She floats above the track, looking at the screaming fans in the stadium, impressed at the lavishness that went into the host's construction. She soon spots ways that corners were cut, noting that the crowd seems to only be about a dozen different people, each repeated hundreds of times.

Looking around, she sees that there are several icons visible. The concession stand is a virtual representation of the owner's kitchen, with icons for the coffee maker and refrigerator showing behind the counter. Near the front of the stands a huge private section is cordoned off. Floating over to it, she sees an icon for an expensive trid entertainment system, along with a heated couch.>>

Unknown Personal Host, 7:00 PM September 11, 2075

<<Mel sent out a few more notes, the music forming a web-like structure radiating out from her body. Plucking at the various strings, she listened as the vibrations rang out in her ears. Nothing...nothing...nothing...that one! She lit out along the designated path, her white robes out of place among the crowd dressed primarily in cutoffs and flannel. Still, the 'bots inhabiting the host were simply for show, they didn't blink as she went past. What she had to worry about were security personnel, their digital forms an expression of Patrol IC.

The notes led her into the control tower, and she ascended the stairs until she reached a door. Testing the handle, she opened it carefully and stepped inside. She frowned. Clearly this coyote put more thought into his simulation than organization. Files lay everywhere, their icons represented as racing magazines thrown into piles around the room.

Summoning her synthesizer again, she began to play a fast-paced ditty, and the magazines rose into the air, twenty at a time, their pages flipping rapidly as if in a stiff breeze. One after another they fell to the ground and new ones rose to take their place, until a resounding note was struck, and all but one fell lifeless to the floor.

Gingerly examining the file, Mel felt something out of place, a discordant note among the rest. Looking more closely, she could see a bit of code that was different from the rest, primed to erase the data should it be opened without proper treatment. She whistled, and the code fell away from the file, now utterly harmless. Cracking her fingers, she went to work on the file itself, the encryption on it child's play to someone of her talents. Soon it was open, and she scanned the contents as she copied the information to her Tsurugi's storage.

||<<Ginger, I need to set up transit for two passengers tonight. Normal insertion through Castlewood. They are paying top dollar, so make sure to give them the deluxe treatment, and pick up a Mandarin 'soft, its the little touches that make our customers happy. I've attached the location and time of the meet and dropoff. I'll expect you later tonight>> ||File attached>>

Looking at the coordinates, the ARO denotes a meeting tonight at 2300 near Santa Clarity Valley, Cal Free State. Filing that information away, she hears noise outside the door, and slides underneath a desk. The door opens, and a security officer steps in, looks around, and then exits the room again. Feeling apprehensive, Mel attempts to see how closely GOD is watching her, but the music is too faint, she can't make out the notes clearly enough to interpret them.

Now, to see what else I can find in here. Cracking her knuckles, she got ready to play again.>>

Unknown Personal Host, 7:04 PM September 11, 2075

<<Sighing in frustration at the disorder around her, Mel manages to find one file out of many that seem promising. Repeating her performance from before, she deftly disarms the Data Bomb and secures the information, downloading it storage. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, she jacks out, leaving GOD in the dust as she clears her persona of any traces of wrongdoing. Within seconds, she has jacked back in, zipping over to the Ascension host. Showing her pass to the watching IC, they allow her to remark the host and enter.>>

Ascension Host 7:04 PM September 11, 2075

<<Onyx, Grease, and Jack have been exchanging small talk for a few minutes, when Mel's avatar appears on the third floor. Holding a small data cube in her hand, she passes it to Onyx. "There you go, as requested." Onyx accepts the cube, scanning it for a moment before it disappears. "A fine job. Is the owner of this file aware of the theft?" When Mel confidently shakes her head, Onxy smiles. "Even better. Now, when did you want to cross over tonight, I have to make arrangements.">>

Ascension Host 7:04 PM September 11, 2075

Chica's got skills... Jack thought as Mel handed over the data, looking no worse for wear. He started to wonder about Overkill's abilities, but chalked up his less successful endeavors to bad luck.

<<"How soon can you have us across? Can we be in the CAS by 2100? We don't have much time to waste. Two hours should give us time to get our gear squared away and get to a meeting spot, assuming it's not out in the sticks. With that said, we need to get transportation in place in the CAS, so we may need our entry time to be able to slip somewhat depending on how quickly we can get a ride lined up over there." Jack's persona raised its arm and glanced at his bare wrist, as if an antique watch was strapped to it. As he spoke, he composed a message to the team.>>

<<@Team [JustJack] Does someone want to contact Stone in the CAS to see about setting up wheels for our little party?>>

Ascension Host 7:04 PM September 11, 2075

<<"Transit time will be just over 30 minutes, assuming nothing goes wrong. If you want to be over by 2100, then we need to hurry, because I need to make a call. There is an old quarry east of the Aurora Reservoir." A brief flicker of movement and an ARO appears in Jack's HUD. "You'll be meeting my driver there. Be there at 2030, don't worry, you can't miss him." Onyx holds out is hand for the money transfer.>>

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 7:04 PM September 11, 2075

As the wait staff cleared off the table, Jack caught sight of the hostess eyeing their table, probably wondering when the frag they were going to leave. Pulling out the credstick that Chapel had provided to them, the ork slotted it into his commlink.

Ascension Host 7:04 PM September 11, 2075

<<Jack's persona nodded and clapped its hands together, a bright flash erupting from the collision. As the flash faded, a nuyen symbol with wings hovered in the air and flew over to Onyx, finally coming to rest in the persona's palm. As the icon slowly faded from view, Onyx nodded. "Remember 2030... don't be late.">>

<<@Team [JustJack] Alright folks, we've got to be at the Aurora Reservoir by 2030. Grab whatever gear you need and be ready to go. I figure Grease can get us there in time.>>

Jack cringed at the last sentence as he thought it, but figured sacrifices must be made.

Ascension Host 7:04 PM September 11, 2075

<<Mel straightened her dress again as she listened to Jack negotiate with Onyx. She was still riding the high of cutting into the target host and moving through it like a ghost. Part of her thought maybe it was going to be that easy...that somehow she had gotten that much better, but the rest of her thought that was bullshit.>>

There was skill, and there was luck. Probably equal amounts of both.

<<Best part though? Impressing her new comrades, and by extension, Chapel. After being out of action for so long, Mel wasn't 100% sure how good she still was.>>

Still fucking good.

Ah! The second file...

<<@Team [Melpomene] I was able to score a second file...might be good paydata, might be ASCII. When I figure it out, I'll let you all know.>>

<<She then received Jack's comm, and nodded, sliding into AR.>>

"Good doing business with you, Onyx. If you need any other work done, contact Chapel."


The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 7:04 PM September 11, 2075

Mel's eyes flit open, and immediately put away her deck, smiling at Jack.

"Thanks for the watch. I need to grab some gear...won't take me more than three minutes, as long as I can score a ride." Jack could almost feel the adrenaline oozing out of Mel's pores, and she slid out of the booth, stretching her muscles.

"Oh, and your Matrix persona looked good...if we make it home alive after tonight, I've got some suggests to make it a little more pro. Only if you want them, and you care. Not trying to impose my will or anything...just a few little things here or there."

And she smiled.

The New McCormicks Seafood House, East 72nd and Grape Street, 7:04 PM September 11, 2075

Jack had never really given much thought to his persona. He rarely did much work in the matrix where his icon was more than a bit of personal flair. All the same, he nodded. "I'd appreciate that, Mel. Good work, by the way, you seem like you know your way around the Matrix."

Mentally composing a message, he finished, "Let's see if Grease's loco taxi is available."

<<@Grease [JustJack] Hombre, we're finished up at McCormick's. By any chance, is your taxi available to swing us by our homes and then to the reservoir? Given the tight schedule, I'm not sure we can rely on another taxi service...>>

The Warrens en Route to UCAS Zone, 7:04 PM September 11, 2075

After dropping Smap off, Grease makes his way towards his apartment to change out of his nice suit after their meet with Chapel.

Money well spent- except it didn't do me a lick of good on the Matrix.

Getting Jack's text, Grease responds by taking his eyes off the road, trusting the pilot program to avoid any pesky pedestrians or vehicles.

<<@Jack [Grease]: No problem. I'm going to grab my gear, loop back around to grab Snap, then meet you there.>>

As he sent the message, a thought occurred to him. With their new plan to take a Coyote, there really was no reason he couldn't take at least one of his drones with him...

<<@Onyx [Grease]: Greetings. Would there be room in our transport for one more guest, of a robotic nature?>>

Knowing he didn't have much time, the elf sped up from reckless to insane, heading home to grab his stuff for hopefully a productive night.

Nic's Knacks, 7:40 PM, September 11, 2075

The ride had been the typically chaotic affair to which Jack was accustomed. Mel, on the other hand, looked like she wanted out as quickly as possible. Don't blame her, he thought as the cab arrived at Nic's Knacks. Opening the door of the cab, the ork said, "You're welcome to come in if you want, should only take me a few minutes." Mentally cycling the maglock on the front door, he hoped Nic wasn't trying one of those terrible molecular gastronomy recipes he had uncovered in an old paper book. For some reason, the troll thought he was something of a chef.

"Nic, this is Mel. Mel, this is Nic. I'm grabbing my gear, I've got a quick job this time. Should be back sometime tomorrow night. Sunday morning at the latest." The ork wanted to make sure he had given himself plenty of time to get back. Seeing the troll frown, Jack said, "Don't worry, the job's in a different sector, so we won't be hiding out here this time."

As the ork headed back into his bedroom, he could hear Nic say, "Hoi Mel, want to taste what I'm cooking? It's delicious and scientifically precise!"

Entering his small room, Jack sat on the edge of the two stacked mattresses that rested on the floor and pulled his gear out. Grabbing the duffel bag that formerly belonged to Truck, the ork started filling it with gear. Grabbing his Colt M23, he weighed the rifle in his hands. Without any kind of permit for the weapon, the ork worried that it would stand out a bit. Deciding not to take it with him, he instead unscrewed the suppressor from the barrel and removed both the low-light flashlight and the foregrip from the assault rifle. Taking out a small maintenance kit, Jack attached the flashlight and the foregrip to his HK-227 instead and dropped the weapon, the suppressor, and all of his loaded spare magazines into the bag. Rifling through the rest of the closet, he added his helmet, armored jacket, armored vest, forearm guards, gecko tape gloves, and a set of street clothes to the bag. Zipping it up, he returned to the main room.

Mel appeared to be entertaining Nic's offer to "just taste a little of it" when Jack grabbed her arm and guided her toward the door. "Thanks Nic, but we really are on a tight timeline. Leave a little in the fridge for me for when I get back."

Whispering as they walked out the door, Jack said, "Trust me, you owe me one..."

As they got back in the cab, the ork noticed that no one had yet contacted Stone. Or, if they had, they hadn't let the team know. Even if it risked appearing unprofessional, Jack decided to contact the fixer as they drove to wherever it was that Mel stayed.

<<@Stone | BCC: @Team [JustJack] Hoi Stone. The name's Jack. Chapel said you'd be a good person to speak with if my amigos and I ever had any work in the CAS. We scored a job there tonight and hoped we could meet up with you if you're available. One thing we're definitely going to need is some wheels and a tour guide. Not sure exactly what border crossing we're using yet, but can let you know if you're free.>>

GEAR

Grease's Apartment 7:15 PM, September 11, 2075

As Grease hems and haws over which suit to bring tonight to the job, he gets the familiar buzzing in his ear indicating he had a new message.

<<@Grease [Onyx] As long as you don't try and bring along something ridiculous, like a Dalmatian or Steel Lynx, we should be fine. I'm going to have to charge you extra for the added weight though, space is at a premium. 50 for every 100 kilos you are dragging along. Space is at a premium, as is fuel. Just pay the driver when you get there.>>


En Route to Tempus Fugit, Aurora Warrens, 7:50 PM, September 11, 2075

Mel struggled mightily to keep her dinner from McCormick's down as the cab careened from side to side as it zipped through the traffic on the narrow Warrens' streets. And Grease gets paid to drive like this? she thought as one particularly sharp turn threw her bodily across the car into Jack. The ork smiled politely at her and just gritted his teeth, mumbling under his breath. Mel apologized again, as it seemed the cab continually took left turns at what seemed to be 80 kph, smashing her into Jack each time, and for some reason her seat belt wouldn't secure. Interestingly enough, whenever the cab made a right turn, it was smooth, and Jack stayed firmly planted in his seat - something Mel was grateful for, as he would have crushed her if they had swapped positions.

As Jack counted slowly backward from ten, his DNI routed a message to his optic nerve.

<<@Jack [Stone] G'evening son, Chapel told me y'all would be in touch. I'll be at South High School tonight, there's a football game, and my nephew is starting, I can't miss it. Unless you want to meet after the game, in which case we can make other arrangements. Depends on how much of a hurry y'all are in.>>

En Route to Tempus Fugit, Aurora Warrens, 7:50 PM, September 11, 2075

Jack couldn't help smile at the slice of Americana they were invading. Viernes Noches Luces...

<<@Stone | BCC: @Team [JustJack] We'd hate to interrupt your night, Stone. We can meet you after your sobrino wins. Our biggest problems is going to be getting around in your neck of the woods, so we may not even be able to meet you there if we wanted. The job requires a lot of gear and our ride is heading back to the UCAS after we get dropped off, so we're going to need to figure out transportation. If you can figure out a solution to that problema before we meet, I'm all ears.>>

En Route to Tempus Fugit, Aurora Warrens, 7:50 PM, September 11, 2075

<<@Jack [Stone] That's a damn shame. Y'all be missing a great game, South is playing Mullen, and they hate each other. Both sides should have their blood up. Can you give me a heads up where y'all going to land? If you've got the 'yen, I can get you a driver for the night. Four people, right?>>

En Route to Tempus Fugit, Aurora Warrens, 7:50 PM, September 11, 2075

Jack already liked Stone. He seemed pretty down to earth. Then again, folks from the CAS seemed to have a prejudice against latinos due to the Aztlan connection. The ork hoped that wasn't the case here.

<<@Stone |BCC @Team [JustJack] Four is correct. I don't quite know which crossing we're using yet, if you know what I mean. When we get those details, we will pass them along. Be on the lookout for a message from Grease, one of the other members of the team.>>