@ Chester

Despite the stiff upper lip, the bottom one quivers ever so slightly. Her eyes fill with tears but none fall. Ok. I'll get Jezz to take me back home to get some more stuff. Bring me back something from your adventure?

The fact that Uncle Phil appears to be Steve's flesh-n-blood uncle provides some comfort to John that he is reasonably trust-worthy. Of course cold, hard nuyen can buy off trust... even if there is blood between them. He continues to muse, This is the south though, as opposed to them UCAS bastards. As the talk of trucks vs ATVs begin, John wrinkles an eyebrow.

<<@Steve [Flash] Are we sure we can get a truck in there?>>
<<@Kid/Steve [Flash] Kid -You got a sat image of the area? Can we get a truck in there? Hell... Can we get ATVs in if not a truck?>>

Steve recognizes the orks tone as the AR windows pops up in his line of sight. I'ma going to kill Uncle Phil for talking me into this wireless connection thing. It's annoying as hell.

<@Flash: Ummmm, well shit. Hadn't thought of that. Hang on.

"Well we may have a slight issue. My friend reminds me that we may not be able to get a truck in there. The Landmaster is what exactly? Can we get it in there?"

John smiles for the first time since the meeting had begun. Experience allowed him to stifle it, but a small smile crept in none the less. After all, this is what I do. He thinks. I analyze situations and fix problems.

@ Steve/John

No, no, boy. The Landmaster is an Ares off-road vehicle. I'd love to have one but I ain't that fortunate. I got a Landshark - it's basically a Growler but made by another company. It might do ya but it's got a powerful oil leak that may just strand you. The Ford six-wheeler I got was designed for going out in the woods. It's got decent handling and can carry it plus whatever you throw in the back. It don't care about small trees cause it just knocks em over and it drives over the shrubs. It ain't pretty but it'll do ya.

Now as to whether or not you can get it in there I'd have to know where exactly you was going. That's y'alls bizness, not mine but iffin ya told me I could offer an opinion.

He smiles. The only thing he can do to hold back the tears that he so despretely wants to shed.

I promise.
He hugs her for a long time. Almost sobbing.
Im so sorry Geneveive.... You deserve so much more...So much better. Im going to give it you, Im going to give you everything I can. I swear, we're going to be okay. I just want you to be happy. Im gonna be back. And then soon, we're gonna have a place of our own. And Im going to take care of you forever. No matter what. Becuase thats what older brothers do for their sisters.

@ Chester

I know. Thank you brother. Jezz clears her throat. Sorry to interrupt Chester but I need to close up shop. Do you want to sleep here with your sister tonight? Here is the package you asked for. The instructions are inside.

No, Im flying out tonight. If its not too much, can Genny stay with you. Ill pay extra ofcourse. Ill mark it up to twenty percent?

@ Chester

For a split second, Jezz looks embarrassed but agrees by nodding. She hands over the package and shows Chester to the door. Don't worry, I'll take good care of her.

Steve grins again his smile brightening considerably.

"The Ford sounds just perfect fer us then Uncle Phil. We're headed out to some old place out Bule way, gonna pick up some dreck fer Mr. J. You know how it is. Tent actually sounds good too, if we can keep the critters out."

<@Flash: You want I should give him the locale? Like I said my kin's been around these parts for a long time.>

<<@Steve [Flash] Perhaps we should just take the truck. Less people that know our business the better. If we run into opposition, they may do their leg work the hard way to figure out where we are going.>>

Chester thanks Jezz as he walks out the door.
He sends a message to the whole team.

<<@team: Im ready to go, where y'all wanna meet?>>

Steve frowned at the ork lightly.
<<@Flash: Are you saying you don't trust my uncle? C'mon man he's blood! Blood sticks together. He'd never set me up. Leastways I don't think he'd set me up. Meh, I don't trust him much either. He likes me, but what can I say. Get the rest of the gear and go?>>

The young man turned back towards his uncle.

"We'll take the truck. You want the money now?"

@ Steve/John(Flash)

That's my boy. Yeah, go ahead and wire it over. Or if you like I ken do it for ya.

John loosens a toothy smile.
<<@Steve [Flash] No offense Chummer, but I barely know you. I trust you out of necessity, though perhaps in time I will come to trust your entire family... I'm just not a kiss on the first run type of ork.>> He was unsure whether or not the kid would find the cheesy humor half as amusing as he did, but would probably soon be finding out.

Uncle Phil grins at his nephew. Well, son. Just give me your list and I'll see what ya need. He accepts and opens the list in an AR window. Hmmm. I think that I have most of this. I've got camo
jumpsuits but they're not armored. Hell, you can have all five of those for 50 'yen. ... Got armored camo too but I don't part with them cheap. They'd be around 1200 per. Bullets. Hell, boy. You know I got bullets. Unfortunately, I don't have much of the scratch and dent kind right now. Standard pricing. A skimmer drone? I don't have one but you wouldn't want one anyway. It's thick in those woods boy. Now a fly spy drone. That I got. If you have a decent pilot, then you are good there. Just watch out for the trees. It'll be two grand. So, let me see That's be 2050 plus bullets and armored camo if'n ya want it.

He smiles at Steve and adds What else can I get ya?

Steve grimaces as Flash's message pops up. <<@Flash: Everyone wants me. Price sounds good to you? Armour or no?>>

Hey turns to his uncle once more. "Soka, Uncle Phil. So including the van thats what, somewhere north of 3K? Sounds good to me.

@ Steve & John/Flash

One truck, one ATV, a flyspy drone, regular camo, that comes to 2550 'yen. Now, I still need to know how many and what kind of rounds you're looking for. Also, need to know ifn ya want the armored camo or not.

@ All

The team is able to set up a meet the next morning out of the limelight.

After they finish the dealings with Steve's uncle, John finds his way home. He spends the evening watching reruns of Jack Smooth, Face-man of the Twenty-Second Century. He fancied himself Jack Smooth. After brushing his tusks, he looked at himself in the cracked bathroom mirror and winked, "Ice kid. Ice."

The next morning he put on his chameleon suit, loaded his gun, ammo and other running gear into his gym bag and headed out. He stopped and talked a little to Jiggy, one of the Black Dogs. "Gonna be outa town for a day or so. Keep a look out for me." After a nod from the kid, Flash continues to the Waffle House on the edge of town where the team had agreed to meet.

Being the first to arrive, he grabbed a table and ordered an orange juice. Truth be known, he didn't really want to know what was in the glass. The menu had said 'less than 2% real juice'.

It didn't take long for the ork to spot a six wheeled pickup driving somewhat dangerously down the misty road. A tarp thankfully covered the ATV and other gear. The vehicle parked in the lot with a minimum of trouble. Out hopped a small figure dressed in camoflague fatigues and not carrying any weapons. The figure entered the Waffle House and sat at the same table as the ork.

"Soycafe, waffles and grits, hun" smiled Steve at the waitress.

Strangely enough, Steve's team mate notices that the large neon green dragon that was on Steve's head last night is gone

The waitress rolls her eyes and smacks her gum. You want a million dollars to go with that? A voice from the other side of the restaurant - not a difficult feat, given its size - yells back, Y'all don't mind, Ruby. She's just mad that her husband is sleeping with the babysitter. Just can't prove it. Ruby storms off as the other waitress wanders over. Name's Flow. d'Y'all want some OJ?

"Sounds good. Don't suppose them grits is real are they? Ain't never even had close to real grits. Grandad always talked up real ole fashioned grits"

Steve grins at the ork once more.

The older woman smiles at Steve before answering, Well, for the right price, hon, I can get you anything you want. The tone in her voice and the position of her hips leaving little to question what she deemed the right price.

John thinks to speak up, but knows that in some situations its best to no end up in the middle: figuratively or literally. He takes a drink from his glass and looks around for the other half of the team.

MITNick wanders in, the dwarf still bleerily rubbing his eyes in the morning light. Absently he slides into a seat next to the others, trying to figure out who ordered the belly dancer for breakfast. Still, it's a better show than the rest of the crew, even if she doesn't seem to be dncing very much ... or dressed like a dancer. Looks kinda like the other waitresses actually.

....

Hey doll face ,get me a snuff of whiskey and I'll love ya' the rest of the hour. Promise.

He leans on his fist, trying to remember why he let them talk him into coming out before noon. Then he realizes they tricked him. They never asked.

Bastards.

And why the fuck do they have belly dancers here anyways?....

I really need to stop crashing for the night plugged in.

Idly, MITNick takes Sin-bad and the Seven Sleaze out of his chip jack and looks for a trash receptacle in which to chuck the damn thing. Seeing none within immediate sight, he settles for dropping it beneath the table surreptiously where some kid might find it. After all , it's only soft core.

Steve grins lecherously at the older waitress. True she was shorter and older than he normally liked but after three years in solitary and his best girl moved on to better things the word "horny" no longer applied. He was somewhere around "desperate" to "kill me"

"Temptin' darlin' Tell yah what. Start with breakfast and maybe I'll be back. We're goin' huntin'."

He glances over at the dwarf noticing the other mans apparant dislike of mornings. "Cmon short stuff, we kin get a ten point rack iffin' we're lucky."

John chuckled at both Steve and the halfer. This was definitely not near the stoic crew he expected they would be. I like that.

A glint near his foot caught his eye and he palmed the chip. Hmmm... Check that out later.

<<@Steve [Flash] Or you might just catch something that requires 6 weeks of daily injections.>>

Nick looks up at Steve, then at the waitress, then back at Steve.

Listen son, she ain't worth ten points, and if you need help takin' her, shit, you got a whole 'nother world a' problems.

And don't call me short.

Are we rollin' outta here or what?

After the bill is paid, the team is able to load up and head out toward Bule. Not long after getting on the road, a T-MAP cruiser pulls the truck over. You boys goin' huntin'?

Yep.

MITNick, chillin in the back with his AR games, answers first, idly, not really looking up.

Chester arrives at the diner, in time for the team to be ready to go.

Hey guys, Im ready when you are.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chester pretends to be interested in MIT-Nicks game and pays little attention to the Cruiser.

OOH! Right there! Thats the Elite Sparrow Blade! It gives you a plus 12 to your dexterity. You need that to beat Gandorma, the Seige King of Lichfeild. Yeah! Right there! He drops an Expeirience Ball that should let you gain a few levels before the Titan Beast.

Now that he thinks about it, he seems to be more interested than he thought.

Steve leans out the window and smiles his best smile. "Yup officer as my friend said we're out and going to get us in some huntin."

Chester gets more enthusiastic about the game.

Keep going! There! Open that treasure chest! NO! Not that one! GAH! That one's a trap! Now you gotta fight Gilgemish! He's freakin hard! Do you have the Rainbow Gem? You DONT! Are you Kiddin?! You're done for! Chester puts his hands over his eyes.

The officer looks satisfied with the hunting explanation. Y'all might want to get that kid a muzzle. You ain't gonna hit nothing with him yabbering about videogames. He looks a little cross at Flash. Uh, y'all need huntin' permits to be out this way. I might be able to assist you for a small fee. He flashes a big toothy smile. With that he step away from the car slightly.

Steve curses his new teammate mentally for a second or two Dang stupid son of a bitch. Drekking motherless grrrrrrrr.... He flashes the officer another gigawatt smile. "Yah I know. He's ma cousin, he's not all there iffin ya know what I mean" Steve taps the side of his head signifigantly.

But what the officer had said was true, they had forgotten licences, even decent fakes. Sheit! Knew I was ferggetin' somethin'. Next time Stevie boy. Thank god fer greedy pigs.

"Wellp, officer that'd mighty helpful seein' as how we got all the way out here and plum fergot them licences. Seems like a right shame to have to turn around and fetch em. How much would yer fee be?" Steve wasn't taken in by the cop for a moment. This was the way the world was nowadays, had been since Granddad was in diapers.

I figure that 50 nuyen per gun is about right. I hope y'all have fun out there. The officer opens an AR window with a "permit application" on it.

Chester shouts at the screen.

GO! GO! GO! Now use the XP Skill! Sweet, now you've got triple strength and speed for two minutes. You may actually beat him! When you beat em, he drops the Serpant Sword of Destiny. You can trade it in for a shit-ton of gold or hang on to it for extra bonus stats. Judging by your stats, I'd say you should trade it in. I think you'll be okay with out it. Your Dragons Bane sword, and Buster Club should do the trick.

He takes a breathe.

You beat him! You actually beat him!! Nice! Now open the other chest, and WA LA!! Skorpio's Bow is now at your disposal. Congrats man!

MITNick waits until the officer is gone, and DLing $50 to him, to roll his eyes at the kid.

Kid I hacked this game last week. I coulda beaten him with a Broken Wooden Dagger -1. But you really know your geek speak, I'll give ya that. You just make all that shit up just then?

Nick taps the drver on the shoulder.

Hey, I'm still needin' some slugs for my boom stick here, since someone forgot to actually fill out a shopping list. Stop at a road side shop, preferably something with the name 'Jed' or 'Cledus' attached. Should be able to pick something useful up.

Make up? Please short-stack, don't insult me. But you hack? Man, doesn't that make it not fun? I mean, there's no challenge?

You'd rather play by the rules? Fuck that. Besides, the kind of copy protection they use these days makes it all worth while.

MITNick sits back and waits for the truck to find it's way to the local Bait & Tons'o'Guns-esque shop that inevitably is found at the side of the road amidst overgrown vegetation, an old car that barely runs and two newer ones that don't, and poor hygiene.

The truck comes up on a scrapyard with a shop out front. The hand-lettered sign proudly proclaims, Big Al's Cafe, Auto Repair and Bait shop. The decor consists of a gravel lot with a wooden frame building on it. There are three older model trucks, two cars and a semi out front.

Throughout the entire ordeal with the officer, John sat quiet. He was out of his district and knew that with some cops an orc who 'doesn't know his place' would be a strong detriment. Better to sit quietly than blow the run this early.

As they pull up to Big Al's, John smirks, "Something tell's me that Al is close enough."

"Yup, You want me ta talk ta him, little man? Nice work back there all of you. Perfect 'we're so dumb we can't even shit straight'"

Steve scratches his somewhat stubbled chin and leans back in the seat slightly.

"Hells, we should prolly stretch our legs and get some coffee. Do we need beer fer later or ferget it?"

As the crew begins to disgorge itself from the truck an older (late thirties, early forties) troll steps into the gravel lot. He is wearing what appear to be denim overalls with a cut-off plaid flannel shirt. His cap advertises John Deer tractors. There is a cigarillo hanging from the corner of his mouth. It almost seems glued to him the way it moves. The name's Al. What kin I do fer ya?

MITNick grunts as he slides out of the truck.

Son, make a short crack again. I'd just love to hear another one. When I'm done with you, I'll introduce you to a strret doc I know that's real good at reconstructive surgery.

Nick walks up to Al, give the big troll a casual smile and nod.

Mornin' Al. Name's Nick. Listen chummer, I got me a new Remington 990, sweet hunk o' boom stick that I'm using for ... "Home Defense". But a solid shotungs no good without the right 'munitions, am I right? I need to arm up, watch out for me and mine. Wadda ya' got that I can load up with, with some serious stopping power?

That's a mighty fine weapon ya got there friend. I 'spose I got something for ya. I have some deer slugs that would be good for stopping anyone threatenin' you. If ya wantin' something that don't go through walls, I'd suggest some shot. The troll stops for a minute, looks over the crew and pulls the cigarillo from his mouth. Now, if'n ya looking for something to go "hunting" with, I would suggest something with a little more kick. How does that sound? The troll says this last part with a twinkle in his eye.

Its John's turn to grin this time. He has his SMG in the bag, but curiosity couldn't help him from wondering what the troll meaning is- specifically. He extends a hand to the troll, "John... Always say, you never can have too much put down when you're hunting. What ya got?"

The troll snaps his fingers and four of his friends appear from around and inside the store. Why don't we step inside and have this conversation. You never know when the Star or T-MAP is watchin'. The crew plus the troll and associates walk into the store. After a quick pat down and scan for wireless signals, the troll seems satisfied. Now, I have some shock rounds, gel rounds, explosive tips and needle shot. What are you interested in?