Roger that. I'll track your heat sig with the Firebats sensors.

Jester fliped an imaginary switch and found himself in the drone. His eyes and ears now seeing and hearing everything the hi-tech roto drone did. He watched as Calisto's heat sig moved into the building, he hovered the drone gently flying over her keeping station above the building.

Jester:

Your consciousness spreads into the dualistic nature that cyberware has taught you, stretching your senses beyond their human limits. Tracking Calisto's heat signature is easy in comparison to establishing locks on the sensor anomalies that come up under the Opel's scrutiny.

The shimmering of a tarp covering something that you can't quite sense brings visions of night camo to the forefront of your mind as your Violence contained in Flesh companion enters the mall. A human sized signature comes out from beneath the covering and begins to move across the parking lot in a beeline for the van.

Calisto:

Striding through the mall, you feel the less combat-oriented criminals shy away from your presence. Others giving you an appraising eye, but don't push into your space, some sensing a professional killer, others an equal--neither of which is to be trifled with foolishly.

Dr. Roth's office:

A mild buzzing sound begins to emanate from the folds deep within Wren's coat.

Already tense, Jack starts as the buzzing sound plays across frazzled nerves, and takes two quick steps over to the longcoat, lifting it up and checking through pockets to find the source of the noise.

Jack:

You quickly find the source of the sound. With Wren's cellphone in hand, the ID display reads "Home". It continues to vibrate in your hand.

Callisto, I have some movement out here, it may be a diversions so watch your back.

Jester calmly set the drone to drift over the crime mall. He then transferred his consciousness back into the van. Concentrating he triggered the pop-up turret to activate. Metal coils unfolded themselves and two bullet proof panes slid away allowing the long barreled FN-Mag 5 to rise up. The MMG rotated and turned, the deadly barrel pointing at the incoming intruder.

Jester:

As the turrets come out, the figure breaks into a run for the van reaching for a gun that hasn't materialized in his hands yet.

The servos on the turret whines as they traverse the big machine gun to follow the now running target.

Fire belches from the barrel as full automatic death leaps out towards it's target.

Jester:
Your momentary hesitation before cutting down the target with the explosive force of automatic fire. The would-be assassin dives to the side, taking the burst in his abdomen and bullets draw a line down to his mid thigh. Chunks of flesh are thrown clear of his body as he lands on the cold pavement.

Team:

The brief sound of gunshots breaks through the evening before quieting back down again. Minds quickly race to Lonestar response times before you realize it would take a full scale riot to bring them out here.

Calisto pivots and breaks into a full out run. Moving to grab Mr. Friendly or at least his corpse.

Be careful, he is down but I can't confirm if he is out.

Trixie screams, "Whats happening!?"

She sits upright in the chair, but then lays back down, not wanting to mess up the doctor's prodeedure.

"Doc...? How much longer?"

Dr. Roth's Office:

The doctor places his hands on Trixie's shoulders to settle her back down into place.

"Only a couple more hours. Relax, it's probably just some young thug test firing his new rifle. Besides this is neutral ground, no one will want to screw with people inside the Mall."

Glancing over at the cowboy decker holding the vibrating cell-phone, the doctor smirks.

"So, are you going to answer that or should we leave you alone for a few minutes?"

Calisto:
You charge through at olympic sprinting speeds. Pushing the door open to the outside world you see pools of darkness spread around you. Mental commands activate the polarized lights in your eyes and a world of green forms becomes clear.

Your mild-mannered delivery van has transformed into a road raging killer. Victim one lays meters away, bleeding.

Biomage says, "I'm going to go check it out."

He takes his goggles and puts them on his head, though not over his eyes, and walks outside of the office through the waiting room door.

Switching his vision to the astral realm as he draws his gun, Biomage scans the mall for signs of trouble.

To Chuck, he says, "See anything happening?"

He lowers his optical goggles and toggles the vision enhancements to give another scan.

Biomage:
The massive troll turns to you, his cyber-eye whirring in and out, and shakes his head. Within the astral, the entire area emanates greed, loss and violence. The need to buy, sell and kill is almost physical as it weighs upon you.

Clearing your head as you close your third eye, the mall takes on a stronger technical hue as heat signatures are overlaid on a polarized grid of light and shadow. People are scrambling back to their feet, others looking towards the exit. It's obvious someone or something just chraged through here as the jagged edge of their course is still carved through the masses.

With another glance to the remaining team members, Jack drops the phone back into Wren's coat, giving the others another grin.

"A little wired up, Ah guess."

Jack:
You drop the phone back on to the coat. A few seconds later it beeps with incoming voicemail.

Trixie:
Brief flashes of lightning are accompanied by rolling thunder in your mind. The smell of blood reaches your nostrils as the opressive weight of heavy chain armor wraps around your body. Rough wrapped leather brushes across your hand, the hilt of a sword or haft of a hammer perhaps.

Neural impulses fade away, killing sensation, as the equipment begins to scan a different section of your brain.

Biomage puts his hand on his head to help himself regain control of his emotions while pretending to adjust his goggles.

Whoa! There's a background count here. I never tried using magic or astral abilities here before. I better watch it and keep the magic to a minimum.

"If you see the others, Chuck, tell them I went to see what happened. I'm gonna follow whoever just went that way," he says, indicating the path through the crowd.

With gun at the ready, he takes off at a run through the crowd.

Jester probes the darkness with his electronic eyes.

Jester:
Input comes in from various sensor panels, being routed directly to your visual cortex. The surrounding area seems to be under your control, with one eye in the sky and no enemy reinforcements coming to aid the one party crasher. You get a firm lock on his signature and the sensors begin compiling information about his height, weight, build and facial structure that can be used for later verification.

Outside:
The assassin kips up, muscles stretching and being held in place by his form-fitting body armor. He moves without feeling the pain, his body choosing not to favor limbs that are missing chunks of muscle and flesh. The left pistol raises targeting Calisto as she is silhouetted by the light from inside. Nearly silent, a short burst billows out in her direction as the other gun comes to bare on the van with a similar burst aiming at the driver's seat.

Calisto:
You dive forward and down, minimizing your size as a target. Somersaulting forward, you come back to your feet and keep moving. A series of explosive rounds slammed into the door where you were just standing and blew a one meter hole through the material and knocking it well off its hinges.

Inside:
The sound of EX rounds impacting in quick succession with metal echoes through the mall.

Jester:

The van's internal monitoring systems scream out in pain and alarms sound in your head laying out structural and system damage at the front end of your favorite Marauder.

Armor piercing rounds cut through the windshield and dashboard, one lodging firmly in the driver's seat, the others embedded in the subsystems of the van.

"Holly hell!"

Calisto he is using some sort of AV munitions, watch it.

Biomage stops in mid-stride and turns his head in the direction of the gunfire. He begins running toward the sound.

Calisto's dry voice comes over the comms. I noticed. I 'd like to take him alive to find out what he knows. Use non-lethal if you have it.

Biomage keeps running toward the sound of the gunfire. He looks out in front of himself to see if he can see what is going on while running.

Jack jerks his head up at the sound of additional gunfire.

"Hey Doc, is all that shootin' normal 'round here?"

Jack:

Dr. Roth shrugs.

"It's not the worst I've ever heard around here, but it's not a normal day either. Don't worry, no one's ever gotten past my boys though."

He jerks his thumb towards the large cybered troll.

Biomage:
You pull on your internal reserves as you lay in just a little bit more speed. Jumping your clear the wreckage of a door and plunge into the darkness of outer night. Figures move around you, weaving a deadly dance of gunfire and poised grace.

Calisto:
Small pointy objects materialize in your hands, pulled from behind your belt and the small of your back. They lash out towards your assailant. The figure throws up his forearm to deflect the small nuisances. You see them sink into the flesh delivering their venom into his body.

He pulls the shurikens out and they fall to the ground as he stumbles back slightly, feeling the paralytic toxins work through his bloodstream.

I think you got him Cal.

Jester waits to see what happens to his would be assailent, keeping the machine gun trained on his target.

Biomage ducks down for partial cover in the darkness and toggles the magnification on and the thermographic off to see if he can identify anyone in the combat before engaging.

Biomage:

Zooming in, you recgonize the sleek curves of Calisto's body as she pulls her arms back in from their throw. Her overcoat flares up slightly as she turns at the unexpected sound, readying more darts.

Looking past her, a figure in dark-colored armor stumbles and falls to the ground. He has obviously been on the receiving end of the cannon strapped to the front of the van. The rigger who accompanied Calisto out here is nowhere to be seen, nor is your food. You really hope it's not getting cold...

Outside:
The assassin collapses to the ground as his muscles sieze up from the neurotoxin. His right pistol drops clear of his hand, though his left hand seems to be going through involuntary spasms and will not release the weapon. Time seems to break out of the crystal clarity brought on by life and death situations and move at a steady pace once more.

Inside:
Only the softening echoes of gunfire remain behind, quickly swallowed up by the hum of diagnostic equipment strapped to the youngest member of your team.

Wren's cellphone vibrates back to life once more, clearly displaying the number for the local Italian place you ordered from an hour ago.

Biomage reactivates the thermographic feature on his goggles and deactivates the zoom.

Damn. Too late! Looks like I missed the party.

He puts away his gun and begins walking toward Callisto and the van.

Jester rolls of the seat into the back of the van. As he does he gives his drone station keeping orders and unplugs from the network.

Attached to the wall behind the drivers seat is a red metal box. He pulled it down and opened it up, inside was a first aid kit and plastic restraints, he grabbed both. The side door slid opened and the old man made a run for the fallen assailant.

You okay Cal?

Jack frowns, glancing down at the rather insistent little device, and picks it up, flipping it open.

"Yah?"

I'm okay. How are you doing?

She jogs over to the body to get a better look at their guest shooter.

Jester aproaches as well, Glock out of its leg holster and primed. He carries the medkit and restraintes in his left hand.

Biomage calls from the shadows as he walks toward the scene, "Am I to late for the party?"

Jack:
A thick Italian accent comes barreling across the digital lines.

"Yo, like izz youz gonna come and get your foodz or what? We close in ten minitz and I don't wanna have to throw this stuff out."

Outside:

The old man with a limp comes up along side Calisto and pulls the assailants arms back into the plasteel restraints. He sets the med-kit down and begins attaching the trodes in the necessary places for diagnosis and treatment. As the kit begins to pulse and send electric signals through neural pathways to muscles, the last pistol flies free from one last muscular spasm and skitters across the pavement to the approaching mage.

Calisto:
You don't recognize the man as a local hitter. He could be foreign talent called in to deal with you specifically or a rising member of the shadow society, but you doubt the latter option.

Biomage picks up the gun and examines it as he walks over to the van.

Jack curses softly, glancing up and turning back to the phone.

"Just pull the cred from this account, looks like we're not gonna' make it." He rattles off the account for a certified cred stick, reminding himself to dump it later.

He clicks the phone closed and tosses it down on the jacket, reaching down to toggle the comm unit at his waist.

"We've got trouble...Wren's gone missing"

Biomage:
The pistol is a completely custom design. Full ceramic casing, matte black finish, your guess would be that someone could take this just about anywhere.

"He's not local talent." Calisto kneels and begins to exam his head. "We should move him as soon as he's stable. We may want to take advantage of the good doctor's services." She nods her head back in the direction of shadow clinic.

Ok Jack, as soon as we have this gentleman secured I'll go back to retrace Wren's steps. I'll have Jester do overwatch while I look around.

Outside:
Jester starts the sequences on the medkit applying compounds to different wounds and bandaging the assailant as necessary to be able to move the body inside. The assassin won't die, but even with the nutrients to aid regrowth of tissue, it will be a few weeks before he is fully healed.

As Calisto examines the body, her fingers run across his epidural layers tracing one obvious datajack at the base of his skull and induction plates in both palms. His outer black jumpsuit is checkered with green and black squares designed to baffle sensors but seems to not protect him from the naked eye. Pulling back his right sleeve reveals a soft membrane obviously used for regular injections.

"Ok he's good to go, Bio you want to get him inside to the dock and see if we can get him in 'talking' condition. I'll head back to the van and cover Lady Death here," he says with a nod to Callisto.

He tossed the field kit into the back of the van and slid the door shut. It only took a second for him to jack back in and leap into his drone. He had situated his meat body so that he was in the sealed passengers compartment, at least until he could get the windshield repaired.

The Lockheed Firebat growled with readiness as the rigger moved his consciousness into it.

Alright Cal, lets see what we can see.

Calisto drapes the assassin over her shoulder and rises to her feet. She moves back to the clinic. Pausing at the door she nods to the muscle. "New patient." She moves her ackward package to head inside the clinic. Woking her way to the room where the doctor is plying his trade. "When you're done with Trixie I need this fellow patched up and I'd like to get the 411 on any ware he's sporting." She drops the bundle to the floor and turns to head back out ot the Crime Mall. She pauses at the door out of the room. "I'll cover the cost of his treatment."

Back in the Crime Mall, Calisto takes a moment to center herself and begins to retrace Wren's movements. Thanks for the overwatch Jester.

Calisto:
Moving through the crowd, most people are a little leery of talking to you given the fact that you ran past them, gunfire occurred and you walked back again with a body over your shoulder. That said, once they realize you aren't trying to kill them, some will remember the elf you described going through this area about an hour ago. He walked out of the mall with purpose. One grunt, fairly small for an orc, remembers Wren talking to himself as he went, apparently weighing choices.

Your trained eye recognizes several security systems within different shops, but there does not seem to be a cohesive network to overlay the main structure of the Crime Mall. Reaching the outside, you think the quiet isolation of the parking lot would be the perfect place for an ambush. Though given the acoustic nature of the Mall, silenced weapons would be a necessity to keep everyone from finding out what was going on.

Biomage nods with impressed approval at the custom pistol, saying, "Hm."

He checks the ammo, and then slides the clip back in and puts the gun into one of his coat's interior pockets.

Nice gun. I bet I can sell it for a decent price. That, or I can just keep it. Selling it is better.

"We'll take him back with us. Dr. Roth won't want us to mess up his office by questioning him there, but we can question him somewhere else after he's patched up."

I'm heading out to his car to give it a once over. Calisto clears the noise and movement of the mall and heads for Wren's car.

Inside:
With little fanfare or spectacle, Dr. Roth begins turning off machines. He steps over to Trixie and gently lifts the trode net off her head as well as the other sensors tracing her neural system.

"You've been tampered with I think. Without a preliminary scan, I can only be about 99% sure, but it seems that you've had a fragment of positive conditioning. I'm guessing either the system crashed or you got your brain simmered slightly. The second option would explain why ou look like you were beaten by a troll with a crowbar."

The doctor rolls a display screen over to where the chairs are gathered around. The monitor clearly shows a grizzled old man with heavy scarring around one missing eye, on either shoulder rests an imposing raven.

"As far as I can tell, this image was burned into your visual cortex. I'm not sure who he is, but you will now occasionally have him appear in your vision as a complete figment. There are a few psychologists that I can recommend to help you ease through this and learn to see past the hallucination, but it would take time."

He wheels his chair back to the comatose figure.

"This one will live, I've got him drugged into oblivion but can bring him up when you are ready to talk. Your friend wanted a complete work up on his implants. I saved it all to this chip. Was there anything else you needed from me or can I head home for the night?"

Outside:
The whirring blades of the Firebat is absorbed by the oppressive silence of the night. Stalking through the shadows like a ghost seeking the warm embrace of life to feed, Calisto eases over to the small, black sportscar. The Westwind has its top down, looking completely out of place in the disparate parking lot. Klaxons blare and a loud voice booms out from the vehicle before Lady Death can get within arm's reach.

"Step away from the vehicle. Grievous injury will be sustained through contact with this vehicle. Step away from the vehicle."

Backing away for a second to allow the alarm to reset, Calisto does a quick walk-around examining the car at a distance. Nothing seems out of place, the engine not radiating heat of recent use.

The car is clean and no sign of recent use. Calisto makes her way back towards the mall. Jester where did the shooter come from? I want to back track his movement.

Jester quickly relayed his recollection of seeing the shooter for the first time.