The Outpost 4th January 2071
•I've finaly got that group togther. All 6 of us all at my level of skill. I guess now where looking for a job some thing for a team like ours to get our feet wet with and to gain some allimportant rep and capital.
•The Marksman

•Well now SIX at your level of skill thats quite a find. I guess you'll be looking at hit and run or stealth work with a small team though a small team of well trained, armed and brifed men are worth at least ten times there number of cheap recrutes with only an AK.
•Farsight

•Well keep an eye out for any jobs that we could fill I'll post in the Looking for Work section as well. I'll leave it for my team to interduce them selves. As I think most of you guys know my perfered methods. Oh and Farsight be thank full I reconised you and used my Narcojet rounds really next time move more and learn to aim *wink*.
•The Marksman

•I would say that was just luck. But thanks mate looking out for me even when im trying to down your keeb ass. Not many like that in our line of work. Thanks for the "tips" but its sad to know im still under your shadow after all these years.
•Farsight

• Is this thing working? ... huh. I guess so... Hi, everyone! This is Lilith. Some of you may have heard of me. For those of you who haven't... Well, you'll get to know me in time. Anyway. I'm really happy to be working with you all here. Just give me warning before you come talk to me, ok? Don't want to have to explain to the boss why a teammate was splattered outside of my door!
• Lilith

The Outpost 4th January 2071

Greetings. We are Project Vosges. We are designed to be the ultimate combat hermetic asset. I am Jean, an Artificial Spirit Construct who shares the body of his designer and creator Abaddon. He is the cutting edge of modern battlefield magical fire support, engineered to be resilient and tactically overwhelming whilst still highly mobile and as well equipped for warfare as any other asset on the field.

Whilst we are optimized for raw fire-power our role is wider than this one element. We are capable of supporting or enabling a number of objectives, not limited to rapid deployment, infiltration, electronic warfare and subversion of the enemy command structure. Feel free to make unusual requests, Project Vosges is aimed at exploring the limits of this technology on the modern battlefield and is certain to be capable of significantly more than is accepted as possible in current tactical doctrine.

• Jean

The Outpost 4th January 2071

I have been called brute force personified. I work under the name DangerClose, and I look forward to standing next to all of you laughing as something burns. Bring your dampers.

• Big Slick

The Outpost 4th January 2071


From Wales I wander, looking for a challenge. Precision is my goals. I don't miss with an Assault Rifle or a Gauss Rifle. (I prefer the Ares Alpha, but even I acknowledge that taking out a tank is better done with more firepower.) Staying out of the way of the enemy is also useful.

• Tam

• Wales, huh? Pretty close to where I'm from. Tir Na nOg born and raised, lads.
• Lilith

->Lillith: Did you ever make it up to London? I don't think our paths crossed, but you might have seen some folks I know. London was not as pleasant as Wales, and carrying was a pain, but there was more interesting work.
-- Tam

• Passed through a time or two. Strange, though. I never had any troubles in London. Passed through security pretty as you please, not even an id check involved. *wink*
• Lilith.

• My team just got offered a job but I dout we could pull it off we're to big and loud a force. Any way I'll put a reff in for your boys as the contract still needs doing if worst come to worst we'll subcontract it out to your team.
• Reaver

•London my old stomping grounds after I left the IRA. I started running that city before finding my true calling in life. But I don't think we crossed paths cos that was back in the 40's.
•The Marksman

• IRA? Were you of the Provos or the Officials?
• Lilith

•Provos I am an elf you see. Yeah and that's how I got me my SIN as well.
•The Marksman

• Provos?! BLOODY COW-<<transmission terminated>>
• Lilith

•Well I left in '25 to become a preist that didnt work out as planed and I hit the shoadows of london. Man back in the 10's I was still a fragging kid I was old for an elf but i wasn't an early spike baby. My cathoilic home kicked me out after the pope damned meta-humans. And the IRA gave me a purpose in life I was too young to question and the Officials wanted to kill my kind. Do that maths Lilith. Stick with my only family or not. I just did as I was told back then I might not be proud of my past but its still my past.
•The Marksman

• Rifleman, sounds like you coped with politics better than I have.
• Tam

• Look I don't want our pasts braking up this team before we start I know we might have some differences but don't we all. Now a few of us me included are a might passionate 'bout your ideology's. But we've got a job to do. I looks like Reaver might have found us our first job but we'll be waiting on his call.
• The marksman

Outpost, January 4 2071.

Wi, d'accord. We are all professionals non? We can put our differences aside for the duration of the contract, yes?

To business, I am acquiring a great deal of software as we speak do any of our operators have any requests or needs in this department?

• Jean

Egypt, December 31 2070.

An anonymous warehouse on the outskirts of Cairo. The air was still, pregnant with the heat of the day. As the Sun slipped below the horizon the first of the night's stars began to sparkle in the sky.

A small number of discrete corporate security patrolled the fenced perimeter of the small compound. A big-rig is parked discretely to one side of the loading dock whilst the standard cargo containers it had delivered here just before dawn rested securely within.

Within one of the innocuous, rusting containers Abaddon's feathers rustled as he slowly came awake at the insistent mental buzzing of his comm-link's alarm in his mind. He spread his impressive span and glided down from the perch affixed to the wall near the back of the container.

As his sleek aerodynamic form approached the doors he arrested his movement with a single beat of his wings. His form hovered in the air for a heart-beat before blurring and flowing into that of a short athletic human.

Completely naked in the darkness he felt with his foot for the pile of clothes he knew would be lying nearby. When he found them his eyes glowed with blue light for a moment and the clothes twisted and flowed as his body had a second before until he was dressed head to foot in a skin-tight suit of black ballistic cloth.

With a wave of his hand he transmitted the security codes to the simple looking door. Hidden bolts hissed back and the door swung silently open.

The heat outside the container was palpable and Abaddon twisted his face into a rueful grimace when he felt it on his skin.

Stepping out and glancing around he got a sense of his surroundings. The usual non-discript industrial space, leased by the week so it could be moved at a moments notice as the contract required.

Half a dozen grotty containers contain his labs, lodge, gear and living quarters and those of the cover team, whose task it was to hang around and make this look like some sort of legitimate enterprise.

A year of Globe-hopping hunting Shedim was mercifully over and now a new contract beckoned. He had preparations to make and defences to renew and reinforce.

Releasing the seals on the main transport container he subscribed his 'link to the drones within and threw the door wide.

'Threepio, Artoo disembark.'

An enormous tracked cargo drone trundled from the dark recesses of the container followed by a much smaller humanoid walker. Both were somewhat battle-scarred and sported a fresh coat of desert cammo.


'Artoo open, Threepio crack out the binding materials and bring them into the lab, will you?'

With this he turned to another container, this one with a concealed retinal scanner built into the framework. As the hermetically sealed door hissed open he was pleased to see that everything was still in place and intact. The movers were getting better at this.

As he crossed the threshold into the Lodge his senses tingled with the power of the Artefacts built into it, their powerful aura's aligned with his to increase his power in this place.

Time to get to work.



Egypt, January 2 2071.

Abaddon awoke from a fitful sleep. He was too pumped from the rush of his annual binding ritual to sleep much and he had left Jean replacing the used Binding materials from their stock of refined crystals.

Jean, take over Threepio and use his body to finish that and I'll start on some of my own. I've a feeling we'll be needing plenty of this stuff when we start to see action with this new group. You'll need to check in to the Outpost soon and download a new software suite for this contract so the quicker we get this done the better.

He felt suddenly hollow and alone as his Familiar left his body. Unsteadily he got to his feet, the binding had taken more out of his frail body than he had thought, and created a workspace on the desk for himself. A few moments later the Anthroform drone entered the lodge and sat down at the workbench where he had been a few moments before and returned to the abandoned task.

I confess I find this strange master. I do not think I like being separated from you, I am less apart from you. I would prefer that we kept these episodes to a minimum

Abaddon looked his Familiar up and down with a raised eyebrow.

I concur. I too feel incomplete without your presence. We will remain together at all times unless operations necessitate otherwise.



Egypt, January 3 2071.

The evening cool once again woke Abaddon from his slumber. He was in human form, still clothed in his Form-Fitting body armour, it's inbuilt sim-rig tracking the tiny movements that Jean used to control his Matrix interface.

He left the Spirit to it. He would need to devote all his attention to the Matrix to track down a source of good quality pirated code before tomorrow night's meet. It was irritating but it was operational protocol. No code that could be traced back to the Project.

Munching on some field rations Abaddon made his way back to the lodge. He could occupy himself binding another Spirit while Jean was busy in Cyberspace.

Outpost, January 4 2071

• Jean, I normally run only analyze on my stuff, to at least alert for problems.
• If there are other things you think should be running, let me know.
• Tam
• PS: I also would be happier avoiding discussing history.

• ...et me back on, damnit! Bloody... what? You already did? oh! Erm... sorry bout that guys, just a little technical difficulty. I agree with the whole leaving politics out of the mission thing. And that was a long time ago, Dusty. A really long time ago. Like, you must be ancient! And I'm ok on programs Jean. Tam, you need purge and encryption at the least. I can arrange for you to get some IC that can run them for you. Saaaay... 15 thousand?
• Lilith

My software needs are minimal, and already met. I don't care which sides any of you fought on in a sixty year old war, or even who won. My interest in politics is limited to finding the next war that someone will pay me to get involved in.

• Big Slick

• Lilith, I must have misread that note.
• Thanks for the suggestion of Purge and Encrypt.
• Both are common use programs.
• Did you slip a digit or two on the price? Even with Ergonomic and Optrimized, they would be 1200 nuyen each on the open market, With trivial availability.
• As far as I can tell, the node can run them itself, it does not need IC for that.
• And for alerts, I would want the node to call one of you folks, not try to fight itself.

Wi, the node it can run these programs itself but it can only use them to detect the initial intrusion. An 'acker using an exploit or back door might evade them entirely. Zat is why the more paranoid they run the IC on the node. It will be vigilant at all the times and will eventually spot the 'acker as he goes about 'is nefarious business.

Project Vosges does not operate any code it does not possess source code for. Necessarily all my programs will be lacking in the copy protection, naturally the whole team is welcome to use it and any patches I acquire during the duration of my contract. I will 'ave a full suite of security IC packaged by the morning you are all welcome to make use of it.

• Jean

• Oh no, you read it right! My IC are the best! Worth every nuyen! Can't find a better one this side of the megacorp supersecret security files! but if you really wanted to risk enemies cracking into your comm and accessing the whole Company's communications... I can give you the programs for about the same price as the common market without the nasty risk of registering. Interested?
• Lilith

• So, I should hand over 2400 nuyen to you for the good of the team?
• How about, you and Abbadon work out what everyone on the team ought to run, and make sure we have it, in good order, for the duration of our work.
• And we undertake not to pass any of it on to friends, etc...
• I'll leave it to you folks to work out tacnets, and that sort of thing.
• Tam

• I copuld do with a few programs I have a a few nice puplic suites on my com but nothing high grade or powered.
• I had a PM from Reaver turns out his employer wants a meet before we get the job. The location is pending at this time I'll forward the info as it comes
• The Marksman

• Sorry I'm a bit late. I was... preoccupied ...with a friend.
• I'm looking forward to meeting everyone. Especially the boys
• Seraph

Who is this Reaver, who is his employer, and has he provided preliminary draft contracts to review before we decide whether it is worth our time to sit down and deal with him?

• Danger Close

• What ever you say. However i feel sorry for Danger with all of us shadow lovers on his team. How many of us used to run the shadows or actually been trained in stealth? Well I'm dam sure his skills will come in handy we mercs tend to need things to go BOOM! *wink*
• Our employer wants the meet in London. So I hope your all free to walk that city. At least to some its our home spawl. Right then chummers see you at hethrow where going to have fun explaining our jobs and gear. I'll arrange it all with the local government and agencys our job is 100% legal after all. just take a side arm at max on the flight ship the rest to my London PO box.
• The Marksman

• Seraph... You hussy. And Tam? Yes, you should fork over the nuyen. After all, Those of us with programs went to the effort of acquiring them. Oh! Trades are always acceptable, if you don't have the money! Honestly, I'd feel best if everyone forked over for the super IC I have... but, since I doubt anyone is interested... AND Dusty! some of us AREN'T legal... except as a pet or something. And don't even think about putting a collar on me!
• Lilith

Lists of filenames flew by in the holographic window in the periphery of Abaddons vision. It was too small and scrolled past too quickly for him to read even i he had been paying it any attention. He could feel his fingers twitching with the tiny movements that Jean used to control the flow of data.

He'd become used to it over time, although he could have his sim-rig edit the windows from his sensorium if they became distracting but he hardly ever needed to any more. He hoped his alter-ego was finding what he was looking for.

• Jane mind wireing me those progs. I could do with some high powered app on my link. I also need another link sure the one in my helm is good but not the most portable. I'll grabe on in the spawl.
• About Reaver and the job. Reavers an olld mate i worked with him for a while but left as hios teasm was into blowing stuff up and kill counts than getting the job done a living. The job looks like goverment work but the empolyer and the job is top secret i wouldn't post it on a public forum if I had even been told about it.
• Lilith your fine your gear will be shiped as the teams and you'll be travilling legaly with your gear. Reffrance my UK SIN if you need to ill wire you the number. the English goverment knows that your entering the conty and whay so your good to go.
• The Marksman

dubble post

Tam will ship everything except the hold-out pistol (with stick-n-shock ammo) and the hardliner gloves, and similar legal items.
Upon arriving in London, he will not go to his apartment. He will spend a little time with his Sensei. If the Sensei is willing, he will stay at the dojo for a few days until he at least knows when and where the meet will be.
(Legally, Tam has no problems with London, but since someone was looking for him when he left, a little discretion seems called for.)

The shipping container locked shut, next to five others just like it.

Danger Close walked down the line, checking each one to make sure it was secure. The RFID tags listed each case’s contents. Every missile and rocket’s detonator was removed and packed separately. Each weapon had been disassembled and packed. The suit of assault armor occupied its’ own container. Parachutes and maintenance equipment were in another. The proper hazardous material tags had been attached to the containers full of heavy machinegun, assault cannon, and grenade launcher ammunition.

The shipping company’s crew forklifted each container onto the trucks, double checking the permits before confirming acceptance of each one. Having certified the shipping insurance, he digitally signed the shipping order. With the last loaded, the truck pulled away, headed for the Dubai airport. The troll locked the now almost empty warehouse and climbed into the waiting car.

“Airport, and hurry. I have got a plane to catch.�

Three hours later, the Virgin Atlantic HST rocketed through the upper atmosphere. The big troll dozed in his oversized Upper Class seat, much to the consternation of the stewardess who had to keep stepping over his massive feet.

Hours later, the troll emerged from the terminal and climbed into a waiting car, garment bag over his shoulder. As the sport utility vehicle wove its’ way through the London traffic, he checked the cargo carrier’s matrix host, tracking the status of his equipment. After confirming that the flight was still en route, he switched to the BBC World Service, which was monitoring several unstable political situations that could flash to war at any moment. Several places looked promising. After making note of them, he sent another message to the others.

I have arrived in London. My equipment will be waiting at the Gatwick cargo terminal, pending release by the Office of the Lord Protector on certification of licensing. Is there a place that any of you prefer to gather for dinner?

• Danger Close

Having added his gear to the list of stuff the company was importing he packed it all neatly into Artoo or had Threepio pack it all into Artoo at any rate.

It tipped the scales at about 1.5 metric tons, well within his capability. He carefully gathered his energies and focused them on the big droid. He slowly unleashed the enchantment and Artoo gently lifted up on a cushion of blue light.



He floated gently out of his Lodge and closed the container behind him. It and his living quarters were far too heavy to airlift the same way. They would be moved to temporary storage at Cairo International and would be air-freighted to wherever they were needed as necessary.

Jean, we don't want to be seen in transit on either plane and we could do with some anonymous warehousing when we make it back to Old Blighty.

He could feel the energies coursing through his alter-ego and within moments he, his droid and everybody's Astral Signature had completely disappeared.




With a lurch Abaddon and his gear rocketed towards the stratosphere, completely invisible to any mundane or mystical sensor. Within a couple of hours they would be in Milton-Keynes where there was plenty of industrial warehousing to be had and London was only an hour away by train.

A heavily concealed Lilith sighs from her seat on the aft gunwale of a barge as she watches the busy streets of London pass. It's been a while since last I was here... Ah well. Here's my stop!

With that, she tosses herself off the barge and spreads her wings to their fullest as she drops towards the water below. Just before she hits, the air catches beneath her wings and brings her into a graceful glide, mere inches above the water. She playfully reaches out and drags a hand through the water before flapping hard and lifting up and over the London streets. She circles around for a while, learning the lay of the land in both astral and normal space before coming to a stop next to an old and worn gargoyle atop a small church.

<<Team>>

<<Lilith has successfully infiltrated the target city. Please identify your location.>>

At the Imperial War Museum, meeting one of my predecessors.

• DangerClose

The massive troll transmits a picture timestamped thirty seconds ago.

<<DangerClose>>
<<Smile for the cameras! -Lilith>>


Lilith giggles to herself as she attaches a short clip of DangerClose from the security cameras to the message and sends it off two minutes after she received the message from DC.

The time stamp on the video is from a minute prior.

The trolls smirks at the video of himself towering over a swarm of school children being lectured on the history of the anti-tank rifle.

The children walk in neat double rows like twin columns of ducklings, each identically dressed in the uniforms of the NeoNet sponsored elementary school. A few glance nervously at the monolithic, smiling troll. One points, and earns himself a scolding from their teacher.

Memories of his own childhood flood back.

Noise. Fire. Cheap beer. Violence. Hate. Genocide.

He wonders if any of these children has ever witnessed a man burning to death. The screams of pain are broken only by pleas for a swift death, the stink of burning hair is interrupted only by the stench of his bowels emptying, the crackle of charring flesh never stops.

The warlord who took him in had always told the troll that the only way to measure a man's character was to see how he acted as he burned to death. The troll had measured many, many men before he hit puberty. He wondered how the teacher would respond to a tyre filled with burning gasoline around her neck.

He snapped out of his reverie and noticed that the students were gone, replaced by an older couple, Italian tourists by the sound of their voices.

The troll wandered off deeper into the museum.

<<Nice museum. Should come see it if you've got nothing else to do.>>

<<actually, I am fond of the old firearms (pre 1800) section of the British Museum. It is just amazing that anyone could anything with those tools. And yet folks did!>>

Done it all before though I'm a fan off the exubishtion on the kinghts Templar thats in the british museum at the miniute. I'm crashing with my old fixer he's got a nice pad and has left the shadows now. So guys our meet us at the MoD at least that where where meeting our employer to start with.

<<When is the meet? And do we really walk in the front door of the ministry? (In which case we really better not show up armed, given this is London.)>>

Assuming that the timing vaguely allows for it, Tam will arrive a bit early, get a meal somewhere in the neighborhood, and walk in 3 minutes before-time. (No real point in looking for surveillance, etc. as it will be all over the place.

<<Done it all before though I'm a fan off the exhibition on the knights Templar that's in the British museum at the minute. I'm crashing with my old fixer he's got a nice pad and has left the shadows now. So guys our meet us at the MoD at least that where where meeting our employer to start with.>>

<<wow, you weren't kidding about this being legit, Dusty. nooonetheless, I think I'm going to stay out of sight during this. I'm not certain if they've given up on tracking down me and Dingo... eep! ignore that. was before I met you!>>

<<Me kid? Never! Any way I want to see you guys at the MoD at 0900 tomorrow look like you care about this job. Reaver and his team will be there as well. Again tonight your all invited to a meal at Lindsay House on me. It's very up market but an old friend is footing the bill. Before you ask yes most of my friends are old *wink* >>

<<I look forward to sitting down to get to know all of you. I will be sure to come hungry.>>

Refreshing to be dealing with someone who understands that they are hiring professional soldiers to fight a war, rather than gang members to burn a derelict warehouse.

His tour finished, the troll trundles down the front steps of the converted hospital for the mentally ill and past the pair of naval rifles, adding the evening dinner and the morning meeting to his organizer.

An email notification from the freight terminal at Gatwick informs him that his equipment has arrived and is being stored.

Dust walked along the street. Hunting for a taylors and a new suit, walking in to Mortimer's to pick up his custom Berwick Line suit that he had ordered a week before and the matching Greatcoat all monogrammed and cut to make Dust look more like a prince than a assassin.
Next stop a commlink I need the top of the line but I've already got basic software that would do for now but he would have to get the team to supply him with some higher quality items at a latter date. Thank the lord I invested this well. I haven't touch my savings in nigh on ten years. Who needs a mansion when they can have the stars above their bed?

The Lodge, Avebury, Wiltshire.

The light slowly filtered through the gap in the curtains and Abaddon pulled the covers over his head in a futile attempt to remain asleep. Eventually the local background began to pierce his mind as the sunlight did his eyelids and he sat up sleepily and rubbed his eyes.

He pulled a paisley nightgown around his naked form and wandered over to the original Queen Anne window and peered out at the fresh morning.

Ahhh, a Green and Pleasant Land and no mistake Jean.

To his dual natured eyes it was very green indeed. The Lodge was a tiny B&B that had been built not long after the formation of Great Britain and was one of a dozen or so buildings to have been built inside the circumference of the Avebury ring. Once merely a world heritage site the Awakening had changed all that.

Not as powerful or important as nearby Stonehenge, Avebury nonetheless attracts droves of wannabe Druids and displaced hippies likes moths to a flame. The background count tends to put off the truly sensitive and the real Druids all preferred Stonehenge which is why Abaddon liked it here.

There was never anybody else with any real power within miles of the place.

He wrapped himself in a sheath of filtered Mana and headed downstairs to see what Ms Blackall, the crotchety old Spike-Baby that ran the place, had in store for breakfast today.

Jean, better check in with the others and update them on the Matrix security stuff you've been working on.


Wi d'accord.

<<Good morning Madame et Monsieur. The MoD sounds reassuringly official and we will be most pleased to attend tonight's little soirée. Let me be so bold as present the security package I 'ave prepared <<embedded matrix object>>. This node contains a simple script you may run on your 'link which will connect to the two nodes I 'ave dedicated to each of you and configure the IC I have running there to secure and protect you from electronic attack.>>

Tam looks at the message from Abbaddon (or I suppose, from Jean?), shrugs, and gives the script permission to run. (He will ask Abaddon when they meet in the evening just to make sure.)
Then remembering, <<Dust, I'll be there tonight.>>

After a nice long workout at the dojo, and a long shower, Tam gets out some quality duds, puts them on, and after one change of cab, gets to the club for the evening.

<<Dusty>>
<<erm, Dusty? I've never been to this 'Lindsay House' before. What do I need? Is it private? Will there be lots of cameras? I can't be seen, Dusty! My face'd be on every trid viewer in the world in minutes! They'd come after me, Dusty! And what if I screw up? What if I don't behave properly? They'll cook me and eat me! I don't wanna end up in a stew, Dusty!>>