Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:43 PM, Redmond, Oswald's roverViper 5 paused for a moment and looked at the beast before him. There was a brief stillness in the van. The light was so dim, the glow of the medkit danced across Jovan's pale face in a sickening green and red. "The General's name is general," he said after a long breath,"That's all anybody knows. Big Daddy Long Legs is an old troll That moves a lot of illegal cargo. Don't know where he keeps it. That's why we were following you guys. If you want to get all self righteous about some gangers in a bar trying to kill us and failing miserably, go ahead. I doubt heavily that my fate here will be civil in any way. "

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:43 PM, Redmond, nearby Ferret's van

The spirit was quietly relaying the teams responses to the unknown magic user. Then it folded its arms and said,"We have heard enough, you have made your choice. We will assume our brother will die with honor, and we will remember this day"
With that, the spirit faded back to the astral plane.

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:43 PM, Redmond, nearby Ferret's van

Professor sighs and looks around at his teammates, new and old. "That went well, don't you think?"

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:43 PM, Redmond, nearby Ferret's van

"Where's our magical support? I'd like to see some watchers in the area just in case they decide to extract their revenge immediately. Where's our bargaining chip being held? Knowing that his pals have sold him down the river might just open up his mouth where other inducements were lacking."

Amber looks around, her senses tuned as finely as she can, looking for anything incoming. She's all business now, no more joking around.

"Can somebody give me a run-down on where we stand, what goals we have outstanding, what's been done thus far? And do we have any heavier firepower? I'd like to see a firmer perimeter before we proceed."

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:44 PM, Redmond, nearby Ferret's van

Acme grunted, slipping to a seat at the open door of the van. He was still resting, so he didn't make much many more movements except for fiddling with the slap patch in his hand, but he looked at Amber, an annoyed look on his face. Finally showing himself to the dwarf, the AmerInd elf had dark circles under his eyes and looked like he'd been beaten to hell, including a dried blood trickle from his nose down to his shirt. He let out a long breath and nodded, trying to hold the attitude in because she was just trying to be proactive. He was tired enough that his normally amber-colored eyes from Coyote's influence were finally returning to the dark brown ones of his birth.

"I'm your major magical backup," he croaked out, letting his condition sink in before she barked more at him. "What our goals are is to get a shipment back of milspec equipment from an ass named Big Daddy LongLegs. We've got him tracked to his hideout but so far things have gone from bad to worse. We've got a mercenary outfit after us and have already lost two people on this run. One of them just recently when a spirit attacked him, and beat the shit out of me before we could get it dealt with. I'm attempting to recover the best I can in the ensuing legwork before I have to risk using a slap patch, which will only allow for a temporary boost. Because frankly, lady, if I tried anything bigger than brushing my hair I'm going to pass out."

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:44 PM, Redmond, nearby Ferret's van

Yep, just as I thought. No attempts to reason or negotiate. Only logical reason for that is if conflict was inevitable... or these guys are idiots... or both. My money's on both.

"I smell another tantrum coming. Everyone get on your best ghost-busting boots." Oswald took his Laser pistol out, ready to shoot a spirit down. "Gimmie a second while I see what Joe's learned."

<<@Jovan: So, what have you got so far? Are the goods they're after the same as the ones we are? That's the most important thing we could possibly know. I got a bad feeling that BDLL tried to sell them our guns. Also, ask the guy which of the contacts from his Comm is for their mage in town. We weren't finished talking, but apparently he wants to sulk. I aim to reach out and touch the guy... Oh, wait, you wouldn't get that reference..>>

"Ferret, have you cracked that comm already? We need to call this jag-off and put our new socialite on him. Voice to voice, she should be able to tell when he's lying, unlike with this ghost message bull-crap. Also, tracing him would be a good idea. How's that going?"

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:45 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Jeez, she's a bossy little thing.

Ferret rolls down the driver's window and leans out.

"We should probably get moving before they send another one of them snake spirits after us or decide to pull an Oswald and drop a few tons of ordnance on our location. The van should be clear of bugs now, so unless they are tracking us on the astral they won't be able to follow us."

He looks to Amber. "You planning on following us in that little car of your, or would you prefer something to join us in something a little more bullet resistant?" He raps his knuckles on the van's door for emphasis.

<<@Throgg: Word of warning buddy. We seem to have pissed off some freelance merc team that goes by the name of Viper 12. Even though they are only Viper 8 or 9 now, they still got some serious ordnance and magic support. Here's what I have on them: {Viper12 file}.>>

His face screws up in thought at Oswald's question. Comm? What comm? Oh yeah, Viper5's. Guess I should check it out.

"I'm working on it. This stuff's not as easy as they make out in the trids."

With that he rolls up the window and slumps down in his chair, the grimy reality of the Barrens giving way to the shiny chrome of the matrix. His silver whiskers twitch as he circles Viper5's commlink node, carefully probing it for any nasty surpises.

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:45 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Seeing the condition that Acme is in, Amber softens her stance a bit. "You look like drek. Any bound spooks owe you a favor?"

"Ferret, if you can get a contact out of that comm, I'm happy to put in a call, do a little more negotiating. Ideally, it would really be face to face, and not just over a comm. And I agree, splitting the team without strategic reasons is foolish. I'll send the Honda home."

She calls up the car's comm and instructs the pilot to head home, entirely legal the whole way.

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:45 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

<<@Amber: Like I said, I'm working on it. Just don't boss me around, lady. I don't work too well under pressure and as you might have noticed we're having a fragging bad day. We got one in the morgue and another not far from it. And that's only the ones I know about. Hell, I'm a replacement for someone who didn't make it much beyond the initial meet. So welcome to amateur night in the Barrens and there's a free spot up front next to Rusty and the Prof if you'd like to take it.>>

Ferret turns his attention back to the commlink node, chewing on it with renewed vigor, taking out his anger and frustation on the node's firewall.

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:45 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

<<@Ferret: Easy, tiger. You're the one that called it amateur night, not me. I just got sent in to see where I could help shore things up, maybe bring a little organization to the party. And I'll squeeze in next to the Prof when we decide it's time to roll.>>


"So..." Amber says with a pregnant pause. "What's next? Where's our leverage located, anyway?"

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:45 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Acme chuckles a bit to the question. "I'm not much for binding spirits," he replied. "I know it sounds stupid, but I usually only use them on an ad hoc basis so I don't offend 'em. I'm not a hermetic that thinks that they're only for exploitation." He has a look that maybe sometimes that attitude is going to cost him, and this is one of those cases where he needs to talk to Coyote and rethink that.

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:45 PM, Redmond, Viper 5 node

The chromed Ferret icon weasels through a high black wall of code. A large spotlight sweeps overhead, but he keeps chewing his way in. The light swings by again and stops over his shimmering metallic body. The light turns red and the wall gets taller and thicker. Ferret still manages to punch through. Once in the node, he is surrounded by impossibly tall buildings that are black as night. hovering in a shadowy sky is a large digital clock ticking down. it looks to have 15 minutes, 22 seconds and some change. As he begins to sweep with his analyze program, a huge black dog comes barreling around the corner. The dog immediately comes up as IC.

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:45 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Amber tilts her head to one side as Acme speaks. "Huh," she says when he finishes. "It's okay to exploit them short term, but not long term. Interesting bit of mental gymnastics you've got going there. Hope your moral hairsplitting doesn't get us all geeked..."

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:46 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Acme looked like he had just about given Amber the benefit of the doubt for her earlier snappy comments... until she opened her mouth again. "And I hope being a raging bitch doesn't get us killed either," he growled out. "There's a time and a place for philosophical debates about magic and frankly, this ain't the time. Unless you happen to be able to be a summoner yourself, then we can talk about spirits' rights and how it affects the one dealing with them, si?"

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:46 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van/Viper 5 node

Ferret's meat body twitches and hisses in his chair as his chromed icon launches itself at the dog icon. His claws and teeth extend as his attack program comes online and he bites and scratches at the dog icon with seemingly little effect.

Oh frag, Black IC! Get the hell out you idiot., he screeches at himself.

He scampers away from the dog, dodging left and right between the dark buildings, his chromed eyes glowing white as he tries to find a way out. His meat body twitches as he desperately tries to log out of the system, while the black dog icons claws and teeth tear at his chromed one.

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:46 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Isn't that interesting. I had hoped that it was mostly the corporate spell slingers you had to use kid gloves with.

Moving towards the resting shaman, to allow her bioware to have the best effect, Amber pours on the charm.

"I'm sorry, you're right. We can talk about this after we're safe and the mission has been brought to a successful conclusion. You just take it easy and get yourself back into fighting trim, while we figure out how best to proceed from here."

You get an odd mix of scents along with her words. Is that submissive pup, or bitch, presenting?

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:46 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van


"Hahahaha! Classic! A woman tries to be a strong leader and so that makes her a bitch! Can't you just respect her command as a woman and disregard her command as a halfer? Haaa heh heh... Zing! I got you good, you fuckers. Phew.. It's good to decompress sometimes. So anyway, should we get into a more confined space to limit the places a spirit might materialize? I know I saw a van around here somewhere..." Oswald stood and stepped to the side of the door.

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:45 PM, Redmond, Oswald's rover

Jovan narrowed his eyes at this insolent man and his utterly unhelpful knowledge of BDLL before turning briefly to his comm. <<@Oswald: Ask me again once you actually have his contact list on hand. I understand that procuring such things forcibly can be tedious sometimes. They have several dozen recruits at their disposal in addition to the formerly twelve core Vipers. Viper12 is an aged, smart, highly secretive black ops specialist who may soon get involved in this conflict himself. They were tracking us in the hopes that we would lead them to Long Legs, though tactfulness is clearly not their forte. I imagine you gathered as much from that spirit messenger as well. In addition, there are within the core Vipers a definite two Awakened, both of whom are either full magicians or mystic adepts. What else happened during the exchange with them?>>

He looked down again and met Viper 5's gaze. He considered the captive man before him for a moment. "You have quite a blunt way of twisting facts and responsibility in your favor, Viper 5." The nosferatu spoke quietly. There was still no emotion in his voice. He smiled, but there was no joy or emotion in that smile. Perhaps it was more of a smirk, but perhaps it was not. "Most who find themselves where you are now put a bit more consideration and 'self-righteousness' into their justifications, if they do so at all. I've not met someone so blunt in a while." He paused. "Not that you would ever truly understand such musings."

"Let us return to the topic at hand. Tell me what those goods are that the Vipers are trying to obtain from Long Legs. After that, tell me what reasons Long Legs might have, to the best of your knowledge, to motivate him to default on his agreement with you. However civil or uncivil your fate may be, being obstinate or uncooperative at this point will only bring that fate upon you more quickly, and draw it out over a longer period of time. Do not test me, Viper 5. Answer my questions, and answer them fully and truthfully."

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:46 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van


"Oz, you don't get a fuckin say," he replied with a chuckle. "I only used a gender specific insult. I've already called you an asshole and a mental case to your face, so don't pull this sexist crap on me." But he does seem to change his position with Amber. Something in the air, and he was sure it was affecting him a bit more with the way his head was feeling, made him just nod to her and stop growling, and started taking some slow cleansing breaths before a spike in stress caused his recovery to restart.

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:46 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Professor watches the exchange between Amber and Acme, and Ferret's response. Man, good thing she hasn't turned that on me.

<<@Jovan[[CC: team]:Well, our serpentine competitors are pissed that we struck them before they struck us. Any suggestion that they would not have taken similar measures the moment we had the goods is nonsense. I suspect their leader is somewhat chagrined that he was outmaneuvered and they have lost some valuable materiel, as well as some troops. It would appear they have now declared us as enemies, or more enemy-like than we were before. We are going to have to keep a stronger astral screen up, as magical means seem to be their forte at the moment, now that we have knocked out some of their air and ground power.

Negotiation doesn't seem to be their strong suit either, based on what just transpired. If it ever comes up, getting Amber in physical proximity of their negotiator may be a good thing. Jovan, whatever you can get out of our captive will be all we get from them for the moment, I think. Just as a suggestion, but if a memory-wiped captive can be returned to them alive, we may be able to buy some small reciprocation from them.

I do think we need to have a clearer understanding and communication with our employers. Whatever transpired between them and the Vipers should have been instantly transmitted to all of us. I am concerned about the layers of ignorance through which we are cutting.>>

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:46 PM, Redmond, Oswald's Rover

<<@Professor: Hence why I wished to speak with you about what we know about them so far, or partly why at least. I have held the woman who hired me, and anyone beyond her in whatever chain of command they have, in the utmost suspicion from the beginning. Every interaction we've had with her since then has only increased my distrust. It is extremely clear by now that there is a great deal of things that she or they are not telling us.

As for astral defenses, I have already anticipated you in that regard. As a result of a preparatory feeding undertaken last night, I was able to conjure an elemental significantly stronger than those usually within my ability to summon. Without the strength of that particular spirit, it is less likely that I would have been able to bring down their chopper before it had the chance to attack the rest of you and the civilians, and to capture the sole survivor from that chopper.

Once I am done with this Viper, I will send another strong elemental to support the rest of you. But you need to decide whether to have him memory-wiped and returned or killed. Come morning, I will no longer be able to offer you significant astral support if I do not kill him, and if only a partial draining is done, whichever of the two Awakened Vipers that is able to assense him will figure out what happened when they get him back. We cannot do both. That's just the way it is. Not even I can change that. And, for what it's worth, the feeding is the more reliable defense of the two in my opinion. With a group as tactless and brutal as the 12 Vipers, there's not much likelihood that returning their soldier would do much to keep them from trying to kill us.>>

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:46 PM, Redmond, Oswald's Rover

<<Oswald@Mission Control: Mission control, come in. This is Commander Shankles. Please respond. I have a situation for the boys in the lab. Hoping you could pull a trace and burn on a set of jerkass mercs who got drummed out of the service. Awaiting your response.>>

One eye still on the radar, Oswald looked around for their civilian compliment.
"Hey kid, er.. Rusty. You been mighty quiet. Busy thinking about how you're quite possibly being targeted by ghostly assassins at the moment? I know that if I was them, I'd be looking to cook the other team's advantage to stall out their progress. And if I were you, I'd be wondering who the old coot with the laser pistol and wicked Scoliosis was. For the moment though, I'm me, and I'm saying, fess up. Where we headed and what's waiting for us? Also, you any good with remote guns? I got a cannon in the sky doing me only a moderate amount of good while I have ta keep watch for spooks down here."

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:46 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Looking skyward, as if seeking heavenly grace to help keep her patience, Amber heaves a heavy sigh.

"Rusty? Who's Rusty? Why wasn't I made aware of this resource when I arrived?"

She stops, gets a grip, and walks over to Oswald to see who this Rusty is for herself.

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:46 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van/Viper 5 node

As soon as the dog bared it's teeth, and showed the black hammer code. The chrome rodent bolted for the wall and was gone. Ferret popped back to life in the van feeling just the slightest itch at the back of his head.

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:46 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Rusty's response is interrupted slightly by the dramatic young dwarf that's attempting to throw her weight around. He gives her a short wave from his seat in the van, then addresses Oswald's ramblings,"I imagine those other fella's are thinking that your stalled progress is their stalled progress, and now that you mention it, I was wonderin about the old coot with the laser pistol. one minute it sounds like he's gonna shoot me, the next minute it sounds like he wants me to be his tail gunner" Rusty scratches his head briskly sending flakes everywhere,"I was a maintenance man in my day captain, If it's any more than a hand gun, I'm probably not your man. Hell most of the time I'm using this here cattle prod I made"
He lifts up the steel rod wrapped in wires. The end of it forked like a snake tongue,"Long Leg's place is an old shipping facility north of the Glow. I'll try to lead you in. there's a spot on the perimeter with hard wired communications. That's as close as I've been. I've stopped by a few times and nobody's answered. I've been told there are booby traps all over the place out there, and there are signs up everywhere with warnings of contamination of some kind. "

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:46 PM, Redmond, Oswald's rover

The man in Jovan's magical clutches tried again to assert his strength over his invisible bonds,but to no avail. "Well, to be even more blunt, I had no intention in saying half of it, but I couldn't seem to stop myself. I mean, I've been dangled off of a twelve story building by my ankle and talked less. I think you just have an honest face." He laughed a little hysterically at his own joke. He had steeled himself for death, and now that it hadn't come yet, he was starting to crack,"We just wanted to get some high grade communications. Our gear isn't as state of the art as it once was. We put out some feelers, and Long Legs hit us back, said he scored a little extra on a run and we could have it. We sent the cred, and got a meet up date. The trog was a no show"

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:46 PM, Redmond, Oswald's rover

Jovan made a forced smile at the mercenary's joke, but frowned at his claim that the Vipers' goods were not the same as those Jovan's companions sought, as well as his use of such a racist term as 'trog.' "Oh? When was this then, that he responded and agreed to give you this communications hardware he'd obtained?"

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:47 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Ferret gives an involuntary yelp as he jerks upright in his seat. Viper5's commlink flies from his hand like it was on fire, tinks off the van's windscreen and drops onto the floor.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck! Fragger's got fragging black IC on his fragging commlink. What sort of sick fragger puts fragging black fragging IC on his fragging commlink?"

His tirade continues on for almost a minute, his face flushed red, until he finally runs out of breath. Then he slumps back in his seat, his breath coming in ragged heaves as he tries to get his heart rate back to normal.

<<@team: No luck on cracking the commlink. I got in but it's loaded with black IC. I just made it out with my brains intact. There is some sort of timer running with about 15 minutes left. I'll need a lot more than that to crack it safely unless our prisoner of war gives me the access code.>>

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:47 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Acme blinks at the sudden tirade and yelling, but ultimately has to agree with the point. He wasn't much for technology but he'd been around enough hackers to know a few things about what they do. Black IC on ones own commlink sounded like they were just playing with fire and waiting to screw up with a forgotten password.

<<@team: Who the hell does that to their own system.... It could be a plant then, waiting for a hacker to try and blunder into it? But 15 minutes doesn't give us a lot of time, though I can be a little bit better by then.>>
[/quote]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:47 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

"Fifteen minutes is an eternity at digital speeds," Oswald chimed. "I've got an idea that should work. Ferret, you still have those garbage comms? I've got a specialized Agent here that could be used to create a makeshift botnet. We load him up with Spoof, Exploit and Attack and set him to task. He goes in each comm we've got access to and then bum-rushes the Viper comm's Firewall. Next thing you know, it's one piece of Black IC versus a conga line of Agents, and you've got meat shields to keep you safe... and nuke the IC's response to garbage with excess traffic."

Oz paused for a moment.
"Or we could just ask Joe for the codes. He seems to be doing well."

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:47 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

"You keep talking about 'Joe' or this Viper character you've taken prisoner. Where are these people? Maybe I can help extract that code from him..."

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:47 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Professor Approaches Amber and offers his hand. "Welcome to our little party. I'm Professor. Our interrogator, Jovan, prefers to conduct his business out of sight of the rest of the team. By happenstance, I am the only one to have been granted license to be in his presence. He is working in Oswald's vehicle which contains a medical unit inside. The prisoner, if my guess is correct, is at this point offering up information as Jovan asks for it. It might be best to just leave the two of them to their dance. Jovan is strongly concerned about maintaining his privacy and becomes agitated if that privacy is threatened. The final state of the informant depends on how Jovan leaves him. That is also being determined as we speak.

"I'm glad to have you aboard. I have been filling the role of front-line negotiator, but frankly it is not one of my strengths. We are at a lull in activity at the moment, but our acquaintance, Rusty, appears to have some knowledge of the whereabouts of our quarry, Big Daddy Long Legs. or at least his hideout in the Barrens. Having seen his friends treated well by us, Rusty is now prepared to divulge that information, and may in fact guide us part of the way through some tricky territory. We should be leaving soon. If you have any gear that protects you from toxic materials, bring it along.

"We are newly formed as a team, and in fact have been reforming as the run progresses. I don't know if you have a rundown of the current roster. Our mutual employer is suggesting more work should this endeavour conclude successfully. It would appear we have been kept in the dark about some things she-slash-they know about other forces at play. This is something we will have to talk about with our employers once we are done with this run. Of immediate concern is this 15 minute countdown thing. Ferret our Matrix expert is looking into that, and Oswald's idea has merit. Jovan is extracting information from our prisoner, one of the mercenary team called Viper 12. Oswald is both medic and Thor-shot rolled into one. Acme and Jovan are both magicians with facility both with spells and spirits. I find clues and facts and collate them into information and patterns. Thirty is our heavy hitter on the ground, but he is suffering under the effects of poison from a spirit sent by the Vipers against us a few minutes ago. We will likely be without him for the rest of the run."

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:47 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Amber takes the Professor's hand as he offers it, and covers it with her other hand. She holds it, and eye contact, while he speaks to her.

She favors him with a beaming smile, all perfect pearly whites, as he finishes. "That," she says happily, "is what I'm looking for. A succinct executive summary of the minutes from the last meeting."

Releasing his hand, she takes a moment to think. "I didn't bring any gear more protective than this kevlar weave I wear most of the time. I did come straight here from Elliot's, you know. I didn't even stop at the condo for my explosives..."

Still considering, she stops her pacing for a moment. "Wait... if I'm reading you right, I'm the closest thing this team has to a street sam right now. That... can't be right."

Dear lord, don't let me be the muscle on this run...

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:47 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

"Yes, I'm afraid you may very well be. All of us have some facility with firearms, but Thirty was the primary in that regard." Quickly changing the subject, "Do you need any help unloading gear from your vehicle?"

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:47 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

"What you see," Amber says, spreading her arms in a manner that doesn't point her MP at anyone directly, "is what you get. Heck, I already sent the Honda on home."

She holsters the Crusader under her jacket, and pats one of the side pockets reassuringly, causing the pair of extra magazines to clink against one another.

"While Thirty's out of commission, he doesn't happen to have something of a bit higher caliber I could borrow does he? I do most of my practice with the Crusader, but I'm checked out on automatic rifles and SMGs."

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:48 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

"Thirty favored pistols if I recall correctly. His personal effects are with him, and therefore currently unavailable. You might be able to buy an assault rifle off our pals Pit-stain and Dog-rectum over in the bar. This shanty is full of AKs." Oswald spoke bluntly, twirling the laser pistol in his audibly whirring cyberarm. "And, while I don't have a single muscle in my whole arm, I can still light a cigarette from across a soccer field with this here blaster. But, hey, if we're busy listing our qualifications and all, I'm also a pretty good resource from a logistics standpoint. For instance, I might point out that, if your enemy knows where you are, don't frakkin be there. I mean I have my bad days and all, but I still haven't forgotten that we are currently under immediate threat of, attackers appearing out of thin air. Why am I the only one who seems concerned about this? Did I go mad? Is that what's happening here? Am I over the fraggin rainbow with the lollipop guild and everything? Acme, you wouldn't lie to me, would you? Have I lost it over here? Brain simmering in speed, haven't slept in three days... hot damn! This kinda fun is why I don't just snooze my last years away doing Deltaware implants for rich assholes."

<<@Jovan: Hey, Jay! What's their shopping list? How much for what items? In addition to the invoice, we could use the access codes to the guy's comm. Ferret tried to bust in and caught both a bit of trouble and a glance at a countdown. We've got less than 15 minutes until it hits quadruple aught. Your man might know what that means, how to log in properly, and how to make the badness go away.>>

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:49 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

An almost feral grin spreads across Ferret's face. <<@Oswald: I like your thinking Ozzie.>>

He hops of his chair and scoops up Viper5's commlink.

Nobody messes with the Ferret's head.

<<@Oswald: I had all those shitty comm's linked in a cool web earlier so they are all clean and ready to go.>>

He hops over the back of his chair landing lightly on his feet in the back of the van.

"You, up front with Rusty" he orders Acme, then takes his seat at the workbench. He starts pulling the commlinks out of the bag, powering them up and reforming the web of nodes he had built earlier, likely when the Vipers were bugging his van.

Payback time! he thinks, his grin turning nasty.

As the first 'links start blinking into existence on his AR, he begins weaving them together into a spider web of connections while juggling the software in his head to control them all.

<<@Oswald: Okay, Oz. Let's do this. If Joe gets the code from Viper5 in time we use that. Otherwise we go with this. I'm slaving all these comms to each other and then slaving the better ones to my comm.>> He laughs. <<Frag, I haven't tried anything like this since my freshman years. My head might explode just trying to run all these nodes, so I'm going to open up my comm to you: {access codes}. You're the rigger after all and I'll need to drop control when I go in, so get ready to grab the whole mess. You'll be running interference while I go for the data. Oh, and stay in AR, you'll be a tortoise but the IC won't be able to frag you up.>>

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:49 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Oswald shook his head, as if to wake himself and then stepped into the van's interior and its relative safety.
"Ah! Okay! Just dupe your Exploit and Attack tools over to the link's memory, and I'll have my gent pick them up. Hopefully these rinky-dink-links don't collapse under the weight of two programs running at once.."

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:49 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Oswald had the strangest feeling of deja vu... A glitch in the matrix perhaps?

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:49 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Amber listens to the byplay between Oswald and Ferret. She's tech savvy enough - more than enough to have kept tabs on her co-workers from time to time - but these two were way off in geek la-la land.

She looks over at the Professor with a furrowed brow. "Where did you get those two wireheads?" She shakes her head. "And does this mean we're ready to saddle up and move out of ground zero? Or do I have time to go in there and sweet-talk some troll out of his AK-98?"

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:49 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Professor moves towards the van. "Jovan is still interrogating, and it looks like Oswald and Ferret are diving into the commlink, so there should be a minute or two. If you can negotiate something in that time frame, go ahead. Mind you, our contact with the gangers here is Ferret, but at the same time, we are customers of theirs currently, so there may be no issue. I will stay here, as this is the place likely to be hit if the Vipers take another pass at us."

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:49 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Not one to waste time, Amber strides over to the door of the bar. She briefly pauses to smooth out her suit, sure that as she walks in, she'll look like nothing more than a three and a half foot tall school teacher to these guys. Deep breath, and in she walks.

With a quick scan of the room she looks for the guy with the most obvious automatic weapon on him. Approaching his table, she puts on her best street slang: "Hoi, I'm a chummer of Ferrets, and I'm in need of some firepower. How'd ya like to make a quick buck and hook me up?"

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:48 PM, Oswald's Rover, Redmond

Jovan let his prisoner finish responding to his previous question before glancing briefly at his comm. He let out a mental sigh in the back of his mind at Oswald's continued misuse of his name. <<@Oswald: You're still high, I see. Fifteen minutes is fifteen minutes, not two minutes; I will find for you what that timer is for, but be patient, old man. And do you truly mean to tell me that you yourself, clearly competent with the Matrix in your own right, have no way to break through his firewall and black IC defenses? Surely you jest.>>

<<@team: Update. The 9 Vipers are not after the same goods we are after. It seems they had arranged for a meeting with Long Legs to buy some high-quality communications equipment he'd procured on a recent shadowrun, but the troll apparently took their prepayment and never showed up. I am working on finding when that occurred in relation to the 'run on which Long Legs disappeared. They had, as we expected, 12 core members in their ranks - two of them seem to be Awakened and magicians or adepts of the Magician's Way - as well as several times that many in rotating recruits. It seems that, as we also expected, most of the Vipers are either spec ops or specialists. Their general, Viper 12 himself, is a very shady 'hot shot black op's type,' old and sharp, about whom little else is known. He seems to prefer working for governments over megacorporations, but they are not currently on a job as far as this one here knows - only seeking the gear they paid for, albeit in a tactless and destructive manner. I am of course not finished getting information from him, so expect more such messages in the near future as you promptly vacate the area where the Vipers know you to be. Now, if not sooner. It will buy you a bit of time from astral searches.

<<I suppose I might as well say this now, and direct it a bit more toward the two newest members than everyone else. My specific talents make me quite effective at what I do. The captive himself claims that he has been dangled by his ankles off a twelve-story building and talked less, and such is often the case with those who find themselves on the receiving end of my questions. I am of course very willing to utilize these talents in the service of our group and its survival throughout this run. But in return, it is critically important that you heed my wishes - in particular, that you respect my desire for total physical, astral, and Matrix privacy. I have various reasons to demand this, and I'm not inclined to elaborate on them. If you are willing to respect and honor this, then we will likely have a good and supportive working relationship through this run. If you decide to dishonor and break this agreement, however, then I can only say that you will have brought the consequences upon yourself.>>


Jovan returned his rapt attention back to Viper 5. "You did not answer my other earlier question, Viper 5. Please tell me what reason Long Legs might have had to take your money and vanish without delivering. And do not tell me that he just wanted to take your money and run; apparently no one has been able to find or talk to him for some time, and it seems that this is more than just a 'take-the-money-and-run' case, so think deeper than that. After that, let's move for the moment to the subject of your commlink. There's a timer currently running on it. What is this timer for?"

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:50 PM, Redmond,

<<Mission Control@Commander Shankles: We can't spare the resources at this time commander. Keep us posted and we will help if we can. Don't lose site of the mission objectives soldier!>>

Amber catches the eye of everyone in the makeshift bar. Several conversations pause as she sidles up to a man with an M23 slung over his chair. He was human, but as big as most orks. He had a fat face, maybe Polynesian in ethnicity. He and his two friends were playing some trid game on their comms. As the ganger turned to engage the chatty dwarf, he grinned a half toothed grin,"I got some firepower right here, slot." he said as he grabbed his crotch suggestively" If you can handle that, I might give you a buck or two"

In Oswald's van, the mood was tense. Viper five wriggled against the side of the van, moving into a sitting position, tubes from the medkit dangling from his arms. He screamed at the top of his lungs for a change of pace,"I DON"T HAVE A FUCKING CLUE WHY THE BIG DUMB BASTARD DIDN'T SHOW! "
He immediately switched to mumbling under his breath,"The timer ---s you kn-- wh-- t-e -om b--ns ou-"Even with his heightened sense of hearing, Jovan couldn't make out what he said after yelling so loud the second before.

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:49 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

"Comms gear! Hilarious! They're massacring gangs and picking fights with dangerous fucks like us over a new set of links?! That's just too great. Let's get this contact info so that we can call up Viper mojo and taunt them some more."

<<@Agent: Alright Monty, time to croak a link. Let's form up the posse. Once Loaded into one of the following [IDs,] grab the Attack and Exploit programs for your payload and start cracking at this link [ID]. Ping me when you're inside.>>
Oz made sure that the Agent had the tools it needed. The lightweight Stealth and Analyze programs for sure. The Spoof prog. Adding the Attack and Exploit should put it at its load max. No problem. Probably won't be able to run more than one regular and one lightweight program at once. No reason he shouldn't write a short script.

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:50 PM, Redmond,

Rolling her eyes, Amber says, loud enough for the room to hear, "Yeah, you strike me as the type that has to pay for it..." as she looks for another opportunity. "Are you telling me there's not one of you in here smart enough to turn a profit on this deal? My boys are out front, and they're ready to roll, and they're looking to me to make big holes in the bad guys." She ends her tirade with her hands on her hips, back to the ganger that played it wrong, but with plenty of attention on him just in case.

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:50 PM, Oswald's Rover, Redmond

Jovan was silent for a full ten seconds, though to Viper 5 it must have felt more like ten minutes under the psychological strain he was under. Normally, at this point in an interrogation when a captive started being uncooperative, he would crouch over his bound captive - whoever he or she might be - and subject them to some of the excruciating pain that accompanied having one's life energy sucked from one's body. But in this case he was starting to worry that the psychological duress Viper 5 was under would soon result in a nervous breakdown. It was very important that that be postponed as much as possible, because the man was currently their only source of information on the Vipers. Jovan was also experiencing a subconscious slipping of his cold, inhuman nosferatu persona. Against his better judgment, and although it might do more harm to him than good, Jovan was falling into a brief flash of pity for his prisoner. I'll let him rest. If he behaves like that again, I'll suck the life out of him until he continues talking. But for now, I'll let him rest.

"Viper 5." He paused a moment. "I did not hear what you said about the timer. Please tell it to me again, so that I can hear it this time. Once you do that, and once I get any necessary elaborations, we can take a break and give you some rest from my insistent questions."

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:50 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Acme nodded, shifting his position as questioned so he wouldn't get in the way. He was feeling a little better, but he knew that even with this rest he'd still be under a lot of strain. He looked at the patch in his fingers disdainfully. He hated these things, about the only foreign thing he put into his body was Jack, and that was probably making his liver look like cheese.

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:50 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Ferret hums a little tune as he floats in the spaces between nodes. He sets up a long line of agents and spoofs a user ID for the first one. Then he realises the flaw in his carefully constructed plan. He is unable to assign the new ID to the agent.

Well bugger me sideways with black IC. Guess I should have thought of that. Well back to the drawing board.

<<@team: Plan B just went tits up. Only way I'm gonna get anything off this link before it wipes is if I take it apart and read the fragging memory myself....hmm, y'know that might just work.>>

Still humming the same tune, he shifts perception and reaches for his tools.

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:51 PM, Redmond,

The man removed his hand from his genitals and scratched his chin,"I ain't got any real attachment to this rifle here, how much we talkin?" His buddies haven't chimed in, but they are listening intently.

Ferret Busily fidgeted with the pile of comlinks while the rest of the team waited to leave, or to be jumped by giant spirits again.

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:51 PM, Oswald's Rover, Redmond

Viper 5 was at a new plateau of calm. His captor was not easily drawn into action, a stone cold professional. He felt a little better about being bested by this group. "It's a count down to when we change comms. I'm sure you found the second one bagged up. At 2100 hours, that one gets wiped. Of course, now that I've been compromised, I doubt they'll use the second one."

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:51 PM, Redmond,

Amber turns to look back at the fat faced man. "Well, that depends, doesn't it? M-23's not all that special on it's own - how do you have it kitted out? I don't need fancy, but a smartlink system would be nice."

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:51 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Seeing as Acme is in the van and trying to clear his head, Professor opens his perceptions to the astral while outside the van. He patrols around the perimeter, keeping an eye out for incoming astral threats.

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:51 PM, Oswald's Rover, Redmond

Jovan briefly checked the time on his commlink, then nodded. "I see. Very well then, Viper 5. True to my word, you shall have your bit of rest." With that settled, the nosferatu turned his attention to other matters for the moment, though still keeping an eye and a keen ear on the mercenary for any suspicious, violent, or otherwise uncooperative moves or activity.

<<@Professor: Wrestling with the morality of it all, are you? I do not intend to rush you in your contemplation of the ethics of the Viper's fate; I've been in that position before myself. But a decision of practicality would be nice to have sometime soon. I do not know how long I can keep him talking without resorting to measures of pain. In the meantime, why don't you tell me some of what you know of our employer(s)? The prisoner and I are taking a small break, and I wish to speak with someone about that woman, her associates, and this job.>>

<<@Oswald: Comms changing. That's what the timer is for. In 9 minutes, one of his two commlinks will be wiped, and he would have switched to the other one. The way he said it, it appears that it will be the bagged one that will be wiped. No doubt you have enough time to verify that.>>

<<@Acme: How soon can you bring in spirit support to watch your backs for another Viper attack?>>