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Tiralee
In the beginning...

Cue the usual dingy apartment that seems to be the ultimate goal of a shadowrunner first home owner: food packets, take-out, delivery, eat-in, empty bottles, semi-empty bottles and the occasional weapon for an accent piece.
The Telecom's constant bleeping cuts through the previous week's hangover and you stagger to the unit.
(You swear, if it's someone cold-calling you, you will make it your life's work to hunt them down and make them pay.)

But no, it's the semi-welcome face of your ever-friendly local Fixer ™. There is a smile at the display of human debris behind you - obviously time has swung around for another run.

"I've got a possible something for you, looks legit. Meet the Johnson at the Vines, 9:30, tomorrow, got it?"

You mumble something that could be considered an affirmative, end the call, grab a hand-weapon and go to turf out the devil-rat family that thinks your bathroom is their personal domain.

After a good hour or two, mostly spent patching yourself up, you dig through the online directory until you find the Vines - a small...winebar? This isn't sounding like your typical brew-barn. Time to dust yourself off, get some semblence of posture and try and look hireable.


About 9pm, next day...

Well, it looks like you were wrong - you thought only soy-beer taverns could look this crappy.
Two trolls, looking like they get paid more for width, are checking out the incoming clientel - not enough money to spring for a MAD, it looks like. But enough for two walking walls to loom over you.
Easing you way in with a little gratituity and some nice words ("Hey, Trog-boy, how 'bout you go buy yourself some joy-juice and get stupid?" is not recommended.) you're at the bar asking for the Johnson party.

The Winebar itself isn't THAT bad. No, wait. It is.
To even your non-expert eyes it looks like the house wine is what the patrons send back or leave on the tables, spit included. The bartender jerks a scarred thumb in the direction of the door labelled "Private Party Room". The regulars ignore you, hinting that this isn't happy hour, or that whatever they spike the wine with really kicks in after a couple of year's exposure.

Tipping the barkeep, you straighten up, cast one last glance around the bar and head towards the indicated room.

Showtime chummers.


In the conferance area, there is a strange assortment of what passes for human these days. There is also a thin, neatly dressed Johnson with a couple of examples of the "rent-a-wall series" of bodyguard who look tough, mean and like they'll need a break for the little boy's room in a while.


The long streak of misery looks at the collection of strange cast-offs that were collected by his cattle-call, then begins.

"The task is reasonably simple - I require the extraction of this person from the gang she's with."

He tosses a couple of glossys down on the table. All show a youngish girl-woman in ganger colours. The colours are unfamiliar, maybe after you check it out later...

"It is necessary that she be as unharmed as possible - I'm not paying for damaged goods and I doubt that they're expecting anything of this sort. The pay is 5000, each."

He shoots the collected dregs a hot little glare. "I don't care if you have to kill every living thing in a 5-block radius, as long as the girl is unharmed, is that clear?"

Ok, so the girl is not to be shot. That much is made obvious.

"Are you in?"

You pause, considering...
phelious fogg
Mavrick picks up the photo's and examines them, trying to determine if he can recognize anything in the photo.

"Do you know how her connections with the gang?" Mavrick asks.

"Oh yeah," Mavrick throws it, "since we are probably going to be shot at, you are covering expenses right?"
Shadow
Before the meet

0630
The diminutive dark elf sighed and collapsed in a sweaty mess. She had been holding the 3rd position in her meditative exercise for over an hour and her muscles ached with the strain of doing so. The hard wood floor of her small studio apartment was cold and dusty as she lay there concentrating on her breathing. After a few moments she gathered her self up and stretched like a cat waking up from a nap. She stripped herself of her white t-shirt and sweat pants and hit the shower.

0745
Crow exited her little apartment and locked the door behind her. She hoped on the elevator with her neighbor and headed down. She could feel his eyes on her and a slight blush colored her cheeks. It wasn't like she wasn't used to guys checking her out, she knew she was hot, but he was pretty open about it. She tossed him a coy smile over her shoulder and stepped out at ground level. nuyen.gif 50 a month to the Razors kept her Rapier untouched, and she found exactly where she left it.

0845
The whine bar was a pitiful excuse for anything and she doubted the place would be open in another month. She stopped at the actual bar and did a mental picture of her self to make sure she looked professional. Shin high leather boots, leather pants, white cotton pullover, and her black leather secure tech coat. Her long silver hair was clasped behind her and out of the way, she was ready.

After the Johnson’s spiel

Crow smiles at the comment, indeed, a J covering medical, that'll be the day.
"I think I can safely say that I will take the job. Some more information may help me pull it off a little quicker. Will she be a willing extraction? What is the name of the gang she is with? Where do they operate out of, and how long has she been with them?" She pauses after the last one to think for a moment.

"Yeah that’s about it, oh yeah, is there a time limit?"
Tiralee
The Johnson looks coldly at Mavrick. "If you're good enough for the job, you shouldn't have be shot at," he eyes the surrounding expressions.
"But I am...aware...that you may encounter difficulties." His expression hardens further. "You don't need me to hold your hand and I'm not paying for your mothers to do so, either. Afterwards, when the job is completed successfully - we may talk about it."

He turns now to Crow, "I am unaware of the target's intentions regarding the gang, but you can safely assume that she won't be lured into a van with the promise of a soyburger and a free Tickle-me-Dunkie doll."

The target's name is Victoria Lapin-O'Shay.

More documents are produced from the slim folder. "The gang is known as the Rising Moon - pretentious name but they control territory in the Tacoma-Seattle sprawl and rely on the usual methods to get what they want. No real plans or enemies, they run a mostly female crew and are known to have a few magic-users among them. And no, I don't have numbers."

The enthused looks on your faces say it all.

"They also move around - no known address on their "secret hideout," his lips curling in a poorly-hidden sneer.

Another document is drawn from the folder.
"From what is known, she's been with them for 4 months, minimum. I do not know why she's with them, or what she is to them, and I don't care." He leaves a few more documents discribing the target on the table and stands, meeting obviously drawing to a close.

"You do have a time limit - I want her here, at this table, unharmed, in seven days."

"Anything else?"

His eyes flick to the tall dark shape standing neatly in the darkest corner of the room. Two Night Ones - what are the odds, eh? She looks briefly at the assembled notes, already being dissected, then at the Johnson.

"Excuse', but, due to the...shallow...information you have supplied and the time frame, the price has increased." She does not smile, she simply waits, patiently. The Trolls behind the Johnson move a little, restless, but the polite gaze does not leave the man.

With a glance at the table, the Johnson nods. "Six then."

The other Night One holds up her hand. "And an advance of nuyen.gif 1K?"

The Johnson doles out the funds without another word - obviously he was expecting something along these lines.

The Cred is on the table, along with the information, as the Johnson makes his exit.

After a few seconds, the stranger introduces herself. "Good evening - I am Telemnar. Should we spare a few moments to properly make each other's acquaintance?"
Grey
pre the Johnson leaving

The man standing in the back of the room looks at home in this place, but you get the feeling he'd look like that anywhere. In fact, he is the type you'd have a hard time picking out of any crowd. Currently he is wearing blue jeans, a white shirt, and a black long coat.

Flame watches the gathered group just as much as he does the Johnson. Once the Night One's have their say in the matter, Flame simply says, "I'm in."
Shadow
"Crow," the athletic elf says as she pockets her money. She spreads the papers out on the desk looking at each one long enough to memorize it. When she's done she steps back and takes a good look at the rest of the group.

"I'm a hand-to-hand specialist, with b&e as a secondary, I am good with locks and electronics alike, and I am pretty stealthy to boot," she says. "I figure there are two ways this can go down, we sneak in to wherever there hiding at night and extract the girl, or we can ambush them and extract her that way. I would suggest an infiltration since it's an all girl gang, however we only have seven days and I don't think that's enough time. Anyone here have any ganger contacts that could tell us where these girls hang out?"
Grey
"Call me Flame. I do guns and stealth and Face work. Can I get a look at that?"

He moves in and takes a look the papers over...

"Yeah, I like infiltration better myself, but it could go either way. I'm kinda new to town, so I haven't hooked up many contacts yet, but perhaps our fixer can hook that up for us."
Tiralee
"At least we have a certain quota of...specialists." Telemnar smiles a little.

"I am good with a pistol, and ride very well. Otherwise, I seem to be the one talking." She frown at this, "I have no idea why." She turns to Crow. "And I recall the Johnson mentioning that it was a mostly-female gang. If there are...racial tensions, it may pay to have a more varied approach."

Observing Flame, she nods at him. "I am new here...but I suspect that unless any of us have contacts with gangs, or their supporters, that we may have to investigate Denny's."

To some puzzled looks, she drags out "A Tourist's Guide to the Greater Seattle Region, 2060 ed," flipping to the "Redmond, avoid at all costs" section.

To the now incredulous looks, she shrugs. "A friend of a friend mentioned it." She reads outloud. "Denny's: an old-style drive-in diner that has amazingly managed to survive Redmond and the numerous gags that infest it." She put the traveller's guide away. "From what I was told, and do do not yet doubt he information, Denny's also acts as a neutral meeting-ground for the Gangs here." She's strugging with the words. "A demilitary zone?" A polite "forget it" hand gesture.

"In any event, I suggest those of us who could possibly pass as...interested parties...go there and try to uncover a little information. I would also suggest that we comb through any news reports, or similar. Possibly, they might indicate any recent activity..."

She's polite, poised and well-mannered - What the hell made her want to risk life and limb as a shadowrunner?

Flame nods at the "Denny's" reference, he's heard of it.
Tiralee
On the table is the sum total of the information given:

- Some surveilance shots of a young-looking woman, maybe early 20's, entering and exiting a Stuffer Shack. There are some internal camera views, distorted by the fish-eye wide-angle lens.
- Victoria is about 165 cm tall, weighs maybe 60-70 kg. Brown hair, mostly hidden by a shapeless hat and Bandana in the Gang's colours (Ochre Orange and Silver.)
-No other distinguishing features.

- The documentation describes her last-seen locations (The Stuffer shack is about the only place she's been observed more than twice) and short discriptions on a few gangers (male and female) that were around her.

- Also, an "emergency" series of numbers for the Johnson, mostly concerning the possibility of if there is a "speedy resolution" of the run. There is a different one for each day.

- Notes on the Rising Moon
*Mobile, but not go-gangers.
*Mostly cheap bikes and the occasional van as body and loot movers.
*Tend to act as drug distribution and as stand-over, occasional "break-and-rip-off-anything-that's-not-nailed-down".
*No real links to more organised crime, but are being passively wooed by the Rings, more as an exercise in control than as a desirable gang contact.
*The mostly-women flavour is odd, but solidarity in numbers is something that anyone can understand.
*No information on known leader, or warlord.
Shadow
"Well okay," Crow says. "Denny's, never heard of it but I guess it would be worth a shot. I can make a few calls to some contacts, see if they know anything about this gang. By the way, I said I would like infiltration but we only have seven days, that's not enough time to find them and figure them out, let alone gain their trust." SHe steps away from the table and walks to the door. "I think we should get a move on now, heres my cell number," she tosses a card on the table. "I'll make the calls and then meet you guys wherever, just call me."

After she walks out the door she activates her cell and heads for her Yamaha. Careful to make sure she's not followed. "Yo, Malice, I need some info chummer. I need the low down on a gang called 'Rising-Moon'. An all female wanabe gang operating out of the 'Plex. ANything you can get me would be great."
phelious fogg
"I can see if my people have heard any news of this gang, but there isnt much likely hood that they will have information." Mavrick says, "I do have an idea, if we want to set a trap for them, lure them away as one of use grabs the girl."
Tiralee
Telemnar nods, frowning. "It...makes sense, but I know I would prefer a more...soft approach. But the timing of it all is against such a plan. A pity."

She shrugs, then concentrates on immediate problems.

"But...bait? For the trap? And where?" She looks through the documents again.

"Information is what is needed - I shall go and investigate Denny's," she smiles, dryly. "And maybe make some new friends."
Taking a cue from Crow, she murmurs relevent information into her PersSec (In French.) and includes the number that Crow left to contact her.

"May I have a LTG to contact you both by? I plan to go alone to Denny's - a lone woman will not arouse much apprehension. If I am able to uncover anything of value, I shall pass it along, agreed? If any of us has a stroke of luck - well, plans change and I would like to be a part of things if they do."

Telemnar waits.
Grey
"Unfortunately, I don't have the contacts to help out much on this. Well... maybe, let me check something..."

Flame closes his eyes and activates his phone. First he sends out a call to their fixer, who knows, fixers can always come up with the oddest info. After talking to the fixer, he phones a street doc he knows. Not in the same field, but he is a street doc. Maybe he knows something.
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