@Virtual Scream / Cat, Dubstep, Dante
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: Active, SIN: Moll Flanders (Fake SIN Rtg 4), System: 2, Signal: 2, Response: 2, Firewall: 2
Following Dante's lead, Cat hands over her commlink to Dubstep. I hate handing my 'link to a stranger, but I guess I have no choice if I want to get it cleaned. "Don't forget we're going shopping for upgrades to this old thing after lunch too."
Cat listens attentively to Dante as he explains his not-to-complicated plan. Hardly sounds like shadowrunning, but he has a point that it could bring in some cash. As the food arrives she thanks the waitress in Chinese and begins the difficult (for a westerner) process of eating noodles the 'proper' way.
"I can definitely see how Dubstep could earn a chunk of cash removing this thing from peoples commlinks, but I doubt he'll be the only person on the market offering the same service, and please don't take that as me belittling your skills Dubstep. I'd certainly be entirely stuck without your help!"
After another spoonful of noodles and broth she continues, "I've already mentioned that I'm not an expert in Matrix matters, but even I can see that a virus that can infect such a broad number of links so rapidly and successfully has a lot of value, but I can't really see who's going to be prepared to buy bits of it off us when there's clearly such a superabundance of the damn thing already. Virtual body parts are available everywhere you look!" Not to mention that there's not a single bit of this plan that they need my help with!
Full Version: 2072: Game World
Pages: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51
@E:PL/Chi Town/Copperhead
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; Cortland St, overlooking the river, CZ, Chicago]
Fatigue busting drugs coursing through your system you set off after the fleeting form of your serpent spirit as it sniffs out that ghoul from the image in your mind. Your anger makes you feel invulnerable until Snake hisses a reproval at you…a cool mind, clarity, focus, strike from the shadows…whilst some people might resent this, sometimes nagging, voice in their head for you it is an assurance that your connection to the Power is there, even in this polluted nightmare zone…
Your spirit draws you into a semi-ruined hab block where you are fairly certain Snag will be lurking, probably somewhere with a view of the bridge. At least closing down the distance between you will limit the usefulness of that boom stick of his, assuming he can hit a barn door with it, and increase the effectiveness of your shotgun.
The shattered doors open into what would once have been a nice foyer and atrium space…now it is a world of shadows and decay with just the lingering trace of the pain and suffering that has been felt here. Something makes you look up into a darkened corner and you see the frightful reflected light in compound eyes…the spirit is a watcher as far as you can tell, certainly without strength, and as it scuttles towards you it reveals its eight chitinous legs…
@E:PL/Chi Town/Gemeaux, Mordred & Tsubaki
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; East of the river, Clybourn Ave, CZ, Chicago]
The last seven weeks have been bloody murder, mostly in the long drawn out boredom of being squirreled away on an Atlantic bound freighter, but now in the frantic dash across the murderous CZ, Argent’s assertion that this would be better than trekking through a war zone might need to be re-evaluated. It was all very well on paper but this place had to be experienced to be understood, and you’d rather not be experiencing it right now!
Collot looks up suddenly, his son bouncing along on his back is notably staring in the same direction…
"La, the other side, the other side of the river, there are more of us there, in trouble…we must help them…it is only a few hundred meters but we must hurry"
***
The escape from Stillwater had been dramatically uneventful although not exactly the smooth ride you might have hoped for. From sitting in that cramped mini-sub whilst Argent worked her charms on you, appealing to your professionalism and reputations, you’d struck out across country on foot, relying on your natural stealth abilities and the assistance of one of Tsubaki’s spirits to remain concealed from the corp watchers. You’d briefly observed reinforcements turn up to sweep through the compound but thankfully you evaded them and their aerial search drones that periodically scouted the surrounding hills. It did provide an interesting nugget of pay data, one of the people who turned up and was obviously in charge showed up on a facial recog as a European exec of a minor corp called SinTec…they seemed to have too much weight behind them for that to be anything other than some kind of front…ah the joys of corp machinations, perhaps you something you will get a chance to follow up when you get back to civilisation.
Following a mapsoft you’d hiked the five or so kilometres north east to the small town of Porlock and the chance to acquire a vehicle to take you on to Bristol. Travelling by back roads over rough terrain you got to see more of the rural idyll (ruin) of Britain than you felt comfortable with but either luck or some guiding providence kept you out of sight of the authorities. By morning you’d slipped into the outskirts of Bristol to a safehouse suggested to you by your ever helpful fixer (just how much is this lot going to set you back anyway? Fixers rarely do anything for free!). Resupplying hadn’t taken long, avoiding any kind of camera had been more difficult.
More than a week later and you were finally ensconced on the freighter Queen’s Charm, which was anything but. The mostly automated vessel had little crew to interact with, leaving you to while away your time on keeping yourselves trim and honing your VR game skills! Sharing cramped quarters with Luc tried all your nerves as the restless toddler attempted all sorts of unsupervised mischief.
The gruelling journey wasn’t helped by a layover in freezing Greenland after engine problems but you’d eventually arrived in the UCAS a week ago leaving just the final leg up to Chi Town in a smuggler train.
The compound at Blackwater had been surprisingly homely for a hole in the ground in a former bug nest! It had helped you to forget about the desolate sights of the CZ while you rested up in preparation for your trek out and then to your respective final destinations. Then it had all gone to hell when the place started to explode around your ears. You’d had an inkling that something was up as a number of groups of runners had arrived the day before to cart off a couple of the inhabitants. Nobody had seen fit to inform you of anything though until Collot had come to you in the dust and the smoke and begged you to get him and some of the others out again…
***
In the distance you hear the rattle of autofire. Something is happening all right! You haven’t seen the corp forces for at least a couple of hours now so it might be safe enough to intervene…might be! These Stillwater lot were going to owe you some serious compensation for this fubar!
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; Cortland St, overlooking the river, CZ, Chicago]
Fatigue busting drugs coursing through your system you set off after the fleeting form of your serpent spirit as it sniffs out that ghoul from the image in your mind. Your anger makes you feel invulnerable until Snake hisses a reproval at you…a cool mind, clarity, focus, strike from the shadows…whilst some people might resent this, sometimes nagging, voice in their head for you it is an assurance that your connection to the Power is there, even in this polluted nightmare zone…
Your spirit draws you into a semi-ruined hab block where you are fairly certain Snag will be lurking, probably somewhere with a view of the bridge. At least closing down the distance between you will limit the usefulness of that boom stick of his, assuming he can hit a barn door with it, and increase the effectiveness of your shotgun.
The shattered doors open into what would once have been a nice foyer and atrium space…now it is a world of shadows and decay with just the lingering trace of the pain and suffering that has been felt here. Something makes you look up into a darkened corner and you see the frightful reflected light in compound eyes…the spirit is a watcher as far as you can tell, certainly without strength, and as it scuttles towards you it reveals its eight chitinous legs…
@E:PL/Chi Town/Gemeaux, Mordred & Tsubaki
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; East of the river, Clybourn Ave, CZ, Chicago]
The last seven weeks have been bloody murder, mostly in the long drawn out boredom of being squirreled away on an Atlantic bound freighter, but now in the frantic dash across the murderous CZ, Argent’s assertion that this would be better than trekking through a war zone might need to be re-evaluated. It was all very well on paper but this place had to be experienced to be understood, and you’d rather not be experiencing it right now!
Collot looks up suddenly, his son bouncing along on his back is notably staring in the same direction…
"La, the other side, the other side of the river, there are more of us there, in trouble…we must help them…it is only a few hundred meters but we must hurry"
***
The escape from Stillwater had been dramatically uneventful although not exactly the smooth ride you might have hoped for. From sitting in that cramped mini-sub whilst Argent worked her charms on you, appealing to your professionalism and reputations, you’d struck out across country on foot, relying on your natural stealth abilities and the assistance of one of Tsubaki’s spirits to remain concealed from the corp watchers. You’d briefly observed reinforcements turn up to sweep through the compound but thankfully you evaded them and their aerial search drones that periodically scouted the surrounding hills. It did provide an interesting nugget of pay data, one of the people who turned up and was obviously in charge showed up on a facial recog as a European exec of a minor corp called SinTec…they seemed to have too much weight behind them for that to be anything other than some kind of front…ah the joys of corp machinations, perhaps you something you will get a chance to follow up when you get back to civilisation.
Following a mapsoft you’d hiked the five or so kilometres north east to the small town of Porlock and the chance to acquire a vehicle to take you on to Bristol. Travelling by back roads over rough terrain you got to see more of the rural idyll (ruin) of Britain than you felt comfortable with but either luck or some guiding providence kept you out of sight of the authorities. By morning you’d slipped into the outskirts of Bristol to a safehouse suggested to you by your ever helpful fixer (just how much is this lot going to set you back anyway? Fixers rarely do anything for free!). Resupplying hadn’t taken long, avoiding any kind of camera had been more difficult.
More than a week later and you were finally ensconced on the freighter Queen’s Charm, which was anything but. The mostly automated vessel had little crew to interact with, leaving you to while away your time on keeping yourselves trim and honing your VR game skills! Sharing cramped quarters with Luc tried all your nerves as the restless toddler attempted all sorts of unsupervised mischief.
The gruelling journey wasn’t helped by a layover in freezing Greenland after engine problems but you’d eventually arrived in the UCAS a week ago leaving just the final leg up to Chi Town in a smuggler train.
The compound at Blackwater had been surprisingly homely for a hole in the ground in a former bug nest! It had helped you to forget about the desolate sights of the CZ while you rested up in preparation for your trek out and then to your respective final destinations. Then it had all gone to hell when the place started to explode around your ears. You’d had an inkling that something was up as a number of groups of runners had arrived the day before to cart off a couple of the inhabitants. Nobody had seen fit to inform you of anything though until Collot had come to you in the dust and the smoke and begged you to get him and some of the others out again…
***
In the distance you hear the rattle of autofire. Something is happening all right! You haven’t seen the corp forces for at least a couple of hours now so it might be safe enough to intervene…might be! These Stillwater lot were going to owe you some serious compensation for this fubar!
@Virtual Scream / Dante, Dubstep, Cat
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: hidden, Response 1, Signal 3, System 2, Firewall 1
"Let us work fast to find as many pieces as we can. In my opinion you are good at making friends. If you can find ways to contact people and find more pieces, this could be very helpful. I can accompany you and Dubstep to make sure not one person bothers you. As we receive more and more pieces, hopefully we will also learn who is involved and who is interested in buying our collection..."
Dante pauses to notice Dubstep's head resting on the tabletop. He briefly considers seeing if this foreigner has something valuable on him, taking it while Dubstep was lost to the world. After all, it was the foreigner's fault that he left himself so unprotected like this. It would just be business, not personal. But with a small shake of his head, Dante throws that thought away. This wouldn't be a good way to start a new partnership with foreigners. They view these kinds of arrangements differently than he did. He was learning, slowly but surely, day-by-day. It was still such a different culture than he was used to. Looking back up, he meets Cat's eyes and gives a small smile and a shrug. He tries to turn his hestitation into something more innocuous as he places his iBall drone on the table.
"If he continues to stay like this, his noodles will get cold."
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: hidden, Response 1, Signal 3, System 2, Firewall 1
"Let us work fast to find as many pieces as we can. In my opinion you are good at making friends. If you can find ways to contact people and find more pieces, this could be very helpful. I can accompany you and Dubstep to make sure not one person bothers you. As we receive more and more pieces, hopefully we will also learn who is involved and who is interested in buying our collection..."
Dante pauses to notice Dubstep's head resting on the tabletop. He briefly considers seeing if this foreigner has something valuable on him, taking it while Dubstep was lost to the world. After all, it was the foreigner's fault that he left himself so unprotected like this. It would just be business, not personal. But with a small shake of his head, Dante throws that thought away. This wouldn't be a good way to start a new partnership with foreigners. They view these kinds of arrangements differently than he did. He was learning, slowly but surely, day-by-day. It was still such a different culture than he was used to. Looking back up, he meets Cat's eyes and gives a small smile and a shrug. He tries to turn his hestitation into something more innocuous as he places his iBall drone on the table.
"If he continues to stay like this, his noodles will get cold."
@E:PL/Chi Town/Gemeaux, Mordred & Tsubaki
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; East of the river, Clybourn Ave, CZ, Chicago]
SIN: Spencer Lovett, PAN: Hidden
Initiation scene
The trip had given Mordred the chance to resupply and take care of some items on a long list of chores. It would have been optimistic to call it a respite, however. And as usual, the brief period of inaction was coming to a violent end. The adept drew his pistol. "Stay back, Monsieur Collot," he murmured. "We'll see to this." He activated the magnification on his goggles to get a closer look at what they were dealing with.
He looks back to the others. "Shall we?" The adept had learned his lesson from the last couple of times. As he runs, Mordred pulls on his gas mask.
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; East of the river, Clybourn Ave, CZ, Chicago]
SIN: Spencer Lovett, PAN: Hidden
Initiation scene
[ Spoiler ]
The trip had given Mordred the chance to resupply and take care of some items on a long list of chores. It would have been optimistic to call it a respite, however. And as usual, the brief period of inaction was coming to a violent end. The adept drew his pistol. "Stay back, Monsieur Collot," he murmured. "We'll see to this." He activated the magnification on his goggles to get a closer look at what they were dealing with.
He looks back to the others. "Shall we?" The adept had learned his lesson from the last couple of times. As he runs, Mordred pulls on his gas mask.
@Virtual Scream, Alex Bianchi
September 2, 2072, 12:43; Not quite the Barrens
Renraku Sensei: Hidden | SIN: Jimmy Delfino (Fake ID, Rating 3) (Re 2 - Sig 4 - Fi 2 - Sys 2)
Alex slips quietly towards the main entrance to the apartment block. He glances back to check the drone is following him and almost trips at the sight. Charlie is tip-toeing along behind him on the tips of it's treads in an ungainly, slow but silent gait.
He reaches the main stairwell and climbs the two flights of stairs without incident, edging around rubble and garbage with caution. At the top of the second flight, a careful glance down the corridor reveals one door that is not boarded over. The red flickering of a maglock LED marks it as his target destination. The drone pulls up beside him, lowering itself back down onto its treads as if sensing speed will be more important here than stealth.
A message from Harvey pings up in his AR.
<<Need help with the lock? I can probably override it but not without letting them know.>>
September 2, 2072, 12:43; Not quite the Barrens
Renraku Sensei: Hidden | SIN: Jimmy Delfino (Fake ID, Rating 3) (Re 2 - Sig 4 - Fi 2 - Sys 2)
Alex slips quietly towards the main entrance to the apartment block. He glances back to check the drone is following him and almost trips at the sight. Charlie is tip-toeing along behind him on the tips of it's treads in an ungainly, slow but silent gait.
He reaches the main stairwell and climbs the two flights of stairs without incident, edging around rubble and garbage with caution. At the top of the second flight, a careful glance down the corridor reveals one door that is not boarded over. The red flickering of a maglock LED marks it as his target destination. The drone pulls up beside him, lowering itself back down onto its treads as if sensing speed will be more important here than stealth.
A message from Harvey pings up in his AR.
<<Need help with the lock? I can probably override it but not without letting them know.>>
@E:PL/Chi Town/Copperhead
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; Cortland St, overlooking the river, CZ, Chicago]
...a cool mind, clarity, focus, strike from the shadows...
Snake's hissed comment strikes her like a physical blow, pulling her to a halt. Sometimes it's hard for Copperhead to tell where her mentor ends and Cutter's lessons on how to survive on the streets take over. In either case, she pays them both heed.
Breathing hard from her run, she gulps air as she takes stock of her surroundings and spots the chittering spider watcher.
Frag! Either Snag is a mage or he's got one backing him up. Explains how he healed up and got ahead of us. Should have worked that out earlier.
Pulling her magical defences tight around her, she hisses a mental warning to her spirit as the watcher approaches.
Sstill your anger, little sspirit. There iss a mage about. Ssearch the building but do not engage with him. Find out how many ghoulss are here and if the one called Ssnag iss the mage amongsst them.
She grins up at the spirit as it closes. The expression is hidden by her respirator, but the emotion is clear on the astral. When it gets within range of her staff, she strikes. Not with the mechanical strength of her arms, but with all the rage and anger of her will.
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; Cortland St, overlooking the river, CZ, Chicago]
...a cool mind, clarity, focus, strike from the shadows...
Snake's hissed comment strikes her like a physical blow, pulling her to a halt. Sometimes it's hard for Copperhead to tell where her mentor ends and Cutter's lessons on how to survive on the streets take over. In either case, she pays them both heed.
Breathing hard from her run, she gulps air as she takes stock of her surroundings and spots the chittering spider watcher.
Frag! Either Snag is a mage or he's got one backing him up. Explains how he healed up and got ahead of us. Should have worked that out earlier.
Pulling her magical defences tight around her, she hisses a mental warning to her spirit as the watcher approaches.
Sstill your anger, little sspirit. There iss a mage about. Ssearch the building but do not engage with him. Find out how many ghoulss are here and if the one called Ssnag iss the mage amongsst them.
She grins up at the spirit as it closes. The expression is hidden by her respirator, but the emotion is clear on the astral. When it gets within range of her staff, she strikes. Not with the mechanical strength of her arms, but with all the rage and anger of her will.
@Virtual Scream / Dante, Dubstep, Cat
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
Dubstep
The garishly coloured walls fade as your head droops onto your chest. The matrix swirls around you and you focus on the two nodes in front of you. You recognise Cat's commlink from last night, no not last night but this morning. Dante's commlink is the second node. It's one of the links on your list and is clearly no more powerful than Cat's. If you are going to work with this pair, they are going to need more than a software upgrade. These links will have to go. But until then you might as well make sure you can access them if needed, so you add a little backdoor to each device before moving on to examine the viruses.
Cat's link has a large lump of flesh that she identified as a liver, while Dante's has a hand. As you draw back from the links in preparation to transfer them to the Mitsuhama node, you spot a third node, an iBall drone. The drone is also on your list and has the same access code as Dante's link. You mentally 'tut' at the lack of security. It contains a bloodshot eye complete with trailing optic nerves. You pull away again, noting several other nodes in the vicinity including the noodle shop's server and several other commlinks.
As you log onto the Mitsuhama Nexus to begin the transfer, your heart and soundtrack both skip a beat. The node is empty. No, not completely empty. The virtual scream files are gone but there is a single data file in the form of a sheet of paper.
Cat
As Dubstep's head droops you turn your attention to the grimy orc sitting next to you. His clothes look as if they haven't been cleaned in forever. And you don't want to think about when he last had a bath or shower. But it is the cybernetic hands that catch your attention. Is it just his hands that have been replaced or both his arms?
Dante
The elf girl is a looker but clearly out of her depth. Even her 'street' outfit is too new, too expensive and too clean. And she's not an elf either. Nymph, no that not right. A dryad that's it.
---
Dante, Cat
The waitress' scream is the first sign of trouble. followed by the crashing of PlasGlas beer bottles onto the floor. Glancing to the waitress then to the distintive 'ratatatat' of a cheap SMG, you see three gangers burst into the restaurant. They all wear white hockey masks identifying them as Jasons - a minor group of white supremacist humanis gangbangers to those in the know.
Their leader, who is waving around an ancient Uzi, calls out.
"Don't try nuffin an no-one gets hurt. Just hand over yer links and other electronics and youse gooks gets to live another day."
Behind him, the two other gangers fan out. One is chunky and holds an equally ancient Predator pistol. The other is skinny and holds a Colt America in one hand and some sort of handheld scanner in the other.
Dubstep
As you move to examine the letter, the music in your ears takes on an ominous tone.
<<Trouble in the real, boss!>> warns Cindy.
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
Dubstep
The garishly coloured walls fade as your head droops onto your chest. The matrix swirls around you and you focus on the two nodes in front of you. You recognise Cat's commlink from last night, no not last night but this morning. Dante's commlink is the second node. It's one of the links on your list and is clearly no more powerful than Cat's. If you are going to work with this pair, they are going to need more than a software upgrade. These links will have to go. But until then you might as well make sure you can access them if needed, so you add a little backdoor to each device before moving on to examine the viruses.
Cat's link has a large lump of flesh that she identified as a liver, while Dante's has a hand. As you draw back from the links in preparation to transfer them to the Mitsuhama node, you spot a third node, an iBall drone. The drone is also on your list and has the same access code as Dante's link. You mentally 'tut' at the lack of security. It contains a bloodshot eye complete with trailing optic nerves. You pull away again, noting several other nodes in the vicinity including the noodle shop's server and several other commlinks.
As you log onto the Mitsuhama Nexus to begin the transfer, your heart and soundtrack both skip a beat. The node is empty. No, not completely empty. The virtual scream files are gone but there is a single data file in the form of a sheet of paper.
Cat
As Dubstep's head droops you turn your attention to the grimy orc sitting next to you. His clothes look as if they haven't been cleaned in forever. And you don't want to think about when he last had a bath or shower. But it is the cybernetic hands that catch your attention. Is it just his hands that have been replaced or both his arms?
Dante
The elf girl is a looker but clearly out of her depth. Even her 'street' outfit is too new, too expensive and too clean. And she's not an elf either. Nymph, no that not right. A dryad that's it.
---
Dante, Cat
The waitress' scream is the first sign of trouble. followed by the crashing of PlasGlas beer bottles onto the floor. Glancing to the waitress then to the distintive 'ratatatat' of a cheap SMG, you see three gangers burst into the restaurant. They all wear white hockey masks identifying them as Jasons - a minor group of white supremacist humanis gangbangers to those in the know.
Their leader, who is waving around an ancient Uzi, calls out.
"Don't try nuffin an no-one gets hurt. Just hand over yer links and other electronics and youse gooks gets to live another day."
Behind him, the two other gangers fan out. One is chunky and holds an equally ancient Predator pistol. The other is skinny and holds a Colt America in one hand and some sort of handheld scanner in the other.
Dubstep
As you move to examine the letter, the music in your ears takes on an ominous tone.
<<Trouble in the real, boss!>> warns Cindy.
@Virtual Scream / Cat, Dubstep, Dante
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: Active, SIN: Moll Flanders (Fake SIN Rtg 4), System: 2, Signal: 2, Response: 2, Firewall: 2
Before she can respond to Dante, breaking glass and gunfire erupt inside the previously peaceful restaurant. Cat flinches from the sound and instinctively looks for something to hide behind. She clings to Dante's arm, only partially noticing the unyielding feel of his arm beneath his clothes.
A voice shouts out over the sudden silence, demanding commlinks and electronic items. Nothing worth dying for. Trusting, perhaps naively, that doing what's asked of her will prevent bloodshed, Cat's panic subsides a little. Some of the corp training on hostage survival even begins to surface at the edge of her mind. Braving a look around past Dante's bulky form she sees three gangers with their faces covered by white masks, concealing any emotion they might have on their faces. They spread out so they can see as much of the restaurant as possible.
<<@Dubstep, Dante[Cat]: This isn't my kind of ball game. I'll give them what they want unless either of you have a better plan.>>
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: Active, SIN: Moll Flanders (Fake SIN Rtg 4), System: 2, Signal: 2, Response: 2, Firewall: 2
Before she can respond to Dante, breaking glass and gunfire erupt inside the previously peaceful restaurant. Cat flinches from the sound and instinctively looks for something to hide behind. She clings to Dante's arm, only partially noticing the unyielding feel of his arm beneath his clothes.
A voice shouts out over the sudden silence, demanding commlinks and electronic items. Nothing worth dying for. Trusting, perhaps naively, that doing what's asked of her will prevent bloodshed, Cat's panic subsides a little. Some of the corp training on hostage survival even begins to surface at the edge of her mind. Braving a look around past Dante's bulky form she sees three gangers with their faces covered by white masks, concealing any emotion they might have on their faces. They spread out so they can see as much of the restaurant as possible.
<<@Dubstep, Dante[Cat]: This isn't my kind of ball game. I'll give them what they want unless either of you have a better plan.>>
@E:Tribes
September 1, 2072 22:28; Ambushed near the Freedom Mall, Puyallup
Sprogget
Swerving hard round behind the van you manage to clip the Harley in the rear wheel as the bastard manages to divert his bike away from the main strength of your ram. As you whip past you are aware of LeFey shooting at him and despite the awkward angle you see the dart impact into the shoulder of his coat and discharge in a wash of sparks. Your excitement is short lived as he heels over his bike and starts chasing you! The feral grin looms on your rear facing monitor and you see the fist lashing out before there is a grinding impact and a surge of energy through your bike. The SIM backlash is intense but thankfully your feedback filter halts it before it can make your eyeballs bleed!
LeFey
As you are thrown against Sprogget by the impact with the Harley you get an up close and personal view of the evil looking mage and his glowing fist. His scarred visage leers as you go by and it is with some satisfaction that you plant the targeting reticule over his torso and fire! The dart impacts but something about the way the energy flashes away suggests there are serious non-conductive layers in that coat. As you fumble to reload, vowing to go for a headshot next time, the mono bike lurches and there is a titanic boom from behind you and the distressing sound of broken machinery…
Scrapheap
Ignoring the whirling bikes behind you and the sound of their struggles you focus your rage on the rust wagon charging towards you. From behind the cover of the first Americar you watch as a gunner begins to emerge from the roof. The slug from your shotgun damn near takes his head off along with a sizeable portion of the armoured lid…
Spring
Well you don’t have the backup of Scrapheap leaving you feeling distressingly isolated on your scooter in the middle of a fire fight! You are forced to duck as the crotch rocket fires past on your right heading south and the pillion rider launches a burst of Uzi fire in vaguely your direction…time to be somewhere safer!
Tweak
The van doesn’t seem to have been overly damaged by the mage and his vicious attack but now the combat seems to be retreating towards your rearview…there’s bugger all chance of you catching one of the racing bikes in this lumbering beast, at least not except with an extreme degree of fluke…so, swing the van round and charge another Americar…?
September 1, 2072 22:28; Ambushed near the Freedom Mall, Puyallup
Sprogget
Swerving hard round behind the van you manage to clip the Harley in the rear wheel as the bastard manages to divert his bike away from the main strength of your ram. As you whip past you are aware of LeFey shooting at him and despite the awkward angle you see the dart impact into the shoulder of his coat and discharge in a wash of sparks. Your excitement is short lived as he heels over his bike and starts chasing you! The feral grin looms on your rear facing monitor and you see the fist lashing out before there is a grinding impact and a surge of energy through your bike. The SIM backlash is intense but thankfully your feedback filter halts it before it can make your eyeballs bleed!
LeFey
As you are thrown against Sprogget by the impact with the Harley you get an up close and personal view of the evil looking mage and his glowing fist. His scarred visage leers as you go by and it is with some satisfaction that you plant the targeting reticule over his torso and fire! The dart impacts but something about the way the energy flashes away suggests there are serious non-conductive layers in that coat. As you fumble to reload, vowing to go for a headshot next time, the mono bike lurches and there is a titanic boom from behind you and the distressing sound of broken machinery…
Scrapheap
Ignoring the whirling bikes behind you and the sound of their struggles you focus your rage on the rust wagon charging towards you. From behind the cover of the first Americar you watch as a gunner begins to emerge from the roof. The slug from your shotgun damn near takes his head off along with a sizeable portion of the armoured lid…
Spring
Well you don’t have the backup of Scrapheap leaving you feeling distressingly isolated on your scooter in the middle of a fire fight! You are forced to duck as the crotch rocket fires past on your right heading south and the pillion rider launches a burst of Uzi fire in vaguely your direction…time to be somewhere safer!
Tweak
The van doesn’t seem to have been overly damaged by the mage and his vicious attack but now the combat seems to be retreating towards your rearview…there’s bugger all chance of you catching one of the racing bikes in this lumbering beast, at least not except with an extreme degree of fluke…so, swing the van round and charge another Americar…?
@E:CoP/Johnny Awesome
[August 20th, 2072, 22:01; Balcony on the NeoNet Tower, Oxford]
"Of course everyone has an agenda, I merely meant you don't have one that dictates you stay here at this dull party"
Johnny peered down over the bancony edge at the city below. "There must be so many more interesting things going on down there".
"The way you speak intrigues me though, I've always enjoyed games. You can consider me a player." as he turns to head back into the party he looks back over his shoulder inviting Ryl to follow him. "And if you don't mind you can tell Browyn that I'd like to find out all about her agenda later. I've always had a weak spot for the Welsh"
[August 20th, 2072, 22:01; Balcony on the NeoNet Tower, Oxford]
"Of course everyone has an agenda, I merely meant you don't have one that dictates you stay here at this dull party"
Johnny peered down over the bancony edge at the city below. "There must be so many more interesting things going on down there".
"The way you speak intrigues me though, I've always enjoyed games. You can consider me a player." as he turns to head back into the party he looks back over his shoulder inviting Ryl to follow him. "And if you don't mind you can tell Browyn that I'd like to find out all about her agenda later. I've always had a weak spot for the Welsh"
@Virtual Scream/Cipher
[September 2, 2072, 08:00; Ares Seattle General Hospital]
He was in the hospital now, but the images persisted. Maybe this wasn't a mere attack on his mind... was something reaching out to him? Some entity of the matrix demanding he pay attention?
He settled back down in the bed, closed his eyes, and tried this time to see the images, to let them flow over and through his conciousness, tried to see any recognisable features. A company logo? An address? A recognisable locale? Where were they coming from? He had to find out...
[September 2, 2072, 08:00; Ares Seattle General Hospital]
He was in the hospital now, but the images persisted. Maybe this wasn't a mere attack on his mind... was something reaching out to him? Some entity of the matrix demanding he pay attention?
He settled back down in the bed, closed his eyes, and tried this time to see the images, to let them flow over and through his conciousness, tried to see any recognisable features. A company logo? An address? A recognisable locale? Where were they coming from? He had to find out...
@Virtual Scream / Dante, Dubstep, Cat
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: hidden, Response 1, Signal 3, System 2, Firewall 1
<<@Cat, Dubstep [Dante] : Yes, I have another plan. You two should keep your head down soon. Dubstep is earning his salary in this group, now I will earn mine.>>
This was stupid, even for the Jasons. Didn't they know this was Red Lotus territory? Something must be pushing them to take the risk. Dante prepares to find out what.
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: hidden, Response 1, Signal 3, System 2, Firewall 1
<<@Cat, Dubstep [Dante] : Yes, I have another plan. You two should keep your head down soon. Dubstep is earning his salary in this group, now I will earn mine.>>
This was stupid, even for the Jasons. Didn't they know this was Red Lotus territory? Something must be pushing them to take the risk. Dante prepares to find out what.
@Virtual Scream / Gossamer
[September 1, 2072, 12:22, Argent's ‘link node]
PAN: N/A, SIN: None, Response *, Signal *, System (5), Firewall (4), (Analyze, Scan, Decrypt, Exploit [5, inherent], Stealth [6, inherent],Armour, Browse, Encrypt, Medic [6, ergo, optzd])
<<@Slater[Gossamer]: I am content to stay in Argent’s link for now but if you will allow me a subscription to your link I can join you in your work without Argent needing to hang around in the basement. I am more than curious about the nature of the virus but I felt something akin to a siren call when I first encountered it and I would be reluctant to risk that again without knowing more. Perhaps if you can provide me with the code analysis that you have done so far I may be able to spot a pattern that might elude others. >>
And so saying she set to work analysing the myriad of streams of information flowing through the ‘trix on this virtual monster. As she did this she also reached out to the node of an exclusive retailer on the Main Place Arcade and with a spot of judicious editing of their delivery records convinced their server that an Emerging Futures Living Doll drone had been legally purchased and was to be sent to a family suite booked at the Bellevue Hilton. The fabrication was plausible enough, particularly once particulars of the family in question had been entered into the Hilton’s node, that the delivery shouldn’t be questioned, and if it ever was Gossamer made certain that she wiped out all traces of her digital fingerprints from the nodes she manipulated.
<<@Slater[Gossamer]: I have arranged for a suitable replacement body to be delivered to the Hilton. Perhaps you would go and pick it up for me? I would appreciate it if you erased any tags on the drone, I do not want to lead any traces back here to Argent. >>
She flagged the serial ID to Slater along with an AR representation of a pretty little girl in a party frock. Gisèle should have some more suitable attire but that could wait.
<<@Slater[Gossamer]: It may be useful to be seen as a child. I have observed that they are rarely noticed in day to day life…>>
[September 1, 2072, 12:22, Argent's ‘link node]
PAN: N/A, SIN: None, Response *, Signal *, System (5), Firewall (4), (Analyze, Scan, Decrypt, Exploit [5, inherent], Stealth [6, inherent],
<<@Slater[Gossamer]: I am content to stay in Argent’s link for now but if you will allow me a subscription to your link I can join you in your work without Argent needing to hang around in the basement. I am more than curious about the nature of the virus but I felt something akin to a siren call when I first encountered it and I would be reluctant to risk that again without knowing more. Perhaps if you can provide me with the code analysis that you have done so far I may be able to spot a pattern that might elude others. >>
And so saying she set to work analysing the myriad of streams of information flowing through the ‘trix on this virtual monster. As she did this she also reached out to the node of an exclusive retailer on the Main Place Arcade and with a spot of judicious editing of their delivery records convinced their server that an Emerging Futures Living Doll drone had been legally purchased and was to be sent to a family suite booked at the Bellevue Hilton. The fabrication was plausible enough, particularly once particulars of the family in question had been entered into the Hilton’s node, that the delivery shouldn’t be questioned, and if it ever was Gossamer made certain that she wiped out all traces of her digital fingerprints from the nodes she manipulated.
<<@Slater[Gossamer]: I have arranged for a suitable replacement body to be delivered to the Hilton. Perhaps you would go and pick it up for me? I would appreciate it if you erased any tags on the drone, I do not want to lead any traces back here to Argent. >>
She flagged the serial ID to Slater along with an AR representation of a pretty little girl in a party frock. Gisèle should have some more suitable attire but that could wait.
<<@Slater[Gossamer]: It may be useful to be seen as a child. I have observed that they are rarely noticed in day to day life…>>
@E:PL/Chi Town/Copperhead
[July 9th, 2072, 00:28; Housing Complex Cortland St, CZ, Chicago]
The paltry spider thing shivers under your blow and its legs curl in on itself as it drops towards the floor and begins to scurry away…you are surprised that a watcher can survive in this taint but this one seems to be managing it…your second blow catches it in the thorax and the pitiful creature is sent back to whatever metahell it was spawned in.
As you move cautiously into the building you feel the exultant cry of your spirit in your mind as it locates Snag somewhere above you…above…you look up into the ruins of the floors above you and catch a flash of movement as the rifle shot echoes around the space…
[July 9th, 2072, 00:28; Housing Complex Cortland St, CZ, Chicago]
The paltry spider thing shivers under your blow and its legs curl in on itself as it drops towards the floor and begins to scurry away…you are surprised that a watcher can survive in this taint but this one seems to be managing it…your second blow catches it in the thorax and the pitiful creature is sent back to whatever metahell it was spawned in.
As you move cautiously into the building you feel the exultant cry of your spirit in your mind as it locates Snag somewhere above you…above…you look up into the ruins of the floors above you and catch a flash of movement as the rifle shot echoes around the space…
@E:CoP/Johnny Awesome
[August 20th, 2072, 22:01; Balcony on the NeoNet Tower, Oxford]
"And if you don't mind you can tell Browyn that I'd like to find out all about her agenda later. I've always had a weak spot for the Welsh"
Ryl frowns again, offset by a wry twist to her mouth "I don’t doubt you’ll meet Bronwyn later, that one has a way of doing what she will no matter what others may think. I’m afraid that I am not done with this party just yet…you have amusements to attend to no doubt but I have people to watch, conversations to join and perhaps some more little seeds to sow like the one here. You are welcome to join me if you wish or wait to see what delights and diversions others have to offer. You might profit from speaking with others here though, it is an interesting crowd that has gathered here once you weed out the sycophants, wasters and ner-do-wells. "
[August 20th, 2072, 22:01; Balcony on the NeoNet Tower, Oxford]
"And if you don't mind you can tell Browyn that I'd like to find out all about her agenda later. I've always had a weak spot for the Welsh"
Ryl frowns again, offset by a wry twist to her mouth "I don’t doubt you’ll meet Bronwyn later, that one has a way of doing what she will no matter what others may think. I’m afraid that I am not done with this party just yet…you have amusements to attend to no doubt but I have people to watch, conversations to join and perhaps some more little seeds to sow like the one here. You are welcome to join me if you wish or wait to see what delights and diversions others have to offer. You might profit from speaking with others here though, it is an interesting crowd that has gathered here once you weed out the sycophants, wasters and ner-do-wells. "
@Virtual Scream, Alex Bianchi
September 2, 2072, 12:44; Not quite the Barrens
Renraku Sensei: Hidden | SIN: Jimmy Delfino (Fake ID, Rating 3) (Re 2 - Sig 4 - Fi 2 - Sys 2)
Alex looked at the text hanging in his vision for a second, then quickly typed back a message before dropping the 'link back in his pocket. <<@Harvey[Jimmy]: No, that'll just guarantee a firefight. And with three of them and you wanting Charlie back in one piece...gonna try something else. May end in a gun fight anyways, but fortune favors the bold, right? >>
He looked down at the drone. "Follow me. When I get to the door, stop next to me, but do not aim at the people who answer the door. Fire only if we are fired upon, gel rounds only orders are still active."
A deep breath. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Alex holstered the pistol, then walked purposefully to the door and knocked sharply.
September 2, 2072, 12:44; Not quite the Barrens
Renraku Sensei: Hidden | SIN: Jimmy Delfino (Fake ID, Rating 3) (Re 2 - Sig 4 - Fi 2 - Sys 2)
Alex looked at the text hanging in his vision for a second, then quickly typed back a message before dropping the 'link back in his pocket. <<@Harvey[Jimmy]: No, that'll just guarantee a firefight. And with three of them and you wanting Charlie back in one piece...gonna try something else. May end in a gun fight anyways, but fortune favors the bold, right? >>
He looked down at the drone. "Follow me. When I get to the door, stop next to me, but do not aim at the people who answer the door. Fire only if we are fired upon, gel rounds only orders are still active."
A deep breath. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Alex holstered the pistol, then walked purposefully to the door and knocked sharply.
@E:Tribes, Scrapheap;
September 1, 2072 22:28 Approx 600m from the Fre∑dom Mall, Puyallup
PAN mode: Hidden | SIN displayed: Eric Jones
The scrap-armored sedan rattled closer to him, and finally a human shape appeared at the jury-rigged pintle mount. Well, almost appeared, as Scrapheap pulled the trigger at the first sign of movement. The ganger's shoulders had just cleared the hatch when the 400-grain slug blasted the top of his head into a fine mist, sending the body tumbling back into the car. Scrapheap worked the slide automatically, chambering the next shell as a burst of autofire behind him caught his attention.
He turned from the car and saw the rice-burner with two riders approaching rapidly, the boxy sub-machine gun in the pillion rider's hand chattering wildly. Can't have dem shootin' me in the ass...
His first shot missed badly, punching a hole in the crumbling brick of the shitty apartments behind the onrushing motorcycle. He snorted, then tried to lead his next shot more. The bike shuddered as the slug glanced off of it, and he could see the sudden panic on the face of the kid with the Uzi. It ain't the fall that kills ya...
The shotgun roared again, and this time he'd led it enough that the slug hit just below the arms holding the handlebars of the driver. The bike jinked wildly before flipping, the corpse of the operator skidding limply along the ground as the bike and it's other passenger took flight. The shooter flailed wildly and screamed, high and terrified, which ended abruptly as he impacted the side of another apartment. ..it's tha sudd'n stop at tha end. Scrapheap grinned as the body slowly scraped down the wall, brains and blood leaving a crimson trail behind it.
September 1, 2072 22:28 Approx 600m from the Fre∑dom Mall, Puyallup
PAN mode: Hidden | SIN displayed: Eric Jones
The scrap-armored sedan rattled closer to him, and finally a human shape appeared at the jury-rigged pintle mount. Well, almost appeared, as Scrapheap pulled the trigger at the first sign of movement. The ganger's shoulders had just cleared the hatch when the 400-grain slug blasted the top of his head into a fine mist, sending the body tumbling back into the car. Scrapheap worked the slide automatically, chambering the next shell as a burst of autofire behind him caught his attention.
He turned from the car and saw the rice-burner with two riders approaching rapidly, the boxy sub-machine gun in the pillion rider's hand chattering wildly. Can't have dem shootin' me in the ass...
His first shot missed badly, punching a hole in the crumbling brick of the shitty apartments behind the onrushing motorcycle. He snorted, then tried to lead his next shot more. The bike shuddered as the slug glanced off of it, and he could see the sudden panic on the face of the kid with the Uzi. It ain't the fall that kills ya...
The shotgun roared again, and this time he'd led it enough that the slug hit just below the arms holding the handlebars of the driver. The bike jinked wildly before flipping, the corpse of the operator skidding limply along the ground as the bike and it's other passenger took flight. The shooter flailed wildly and screamed, high and terrified, which ended abruptly as he impacted the side of another apartment. ..it's tha sudd'n stop at tha end. Scrapheap grinned as the body slowly scraped down the wall, brains and blood leaving a crimson trail behind it.
@E:PL/UK
[May 21st, 2072, 10:35:21, NeoNet Zepplin bound for Exeter]
DeBathayre.... where have I heard that name before? Anselm wondered to himself as he read the luggage that was stored immediately before he boarded.
The shock of seeing lady deBathayre in person without a crowd of other sycophants nearly caused Anselm to drop dead of shock. His prior vague recollection came rapidly back into the foreground of his mind as he realized he had indeed met a DeBathayre at a conference many years ago; a conference led by his master and mentor Schwartzkopf, a conference which had been attended primarily by others who represented or served dragonkind.
There had been no other choice but to continue boarding the zeppelin and hope she did not recognize him or his identity; It all depended on how much interaction she had with other servants of Schwartzkopf and how important they, or rather he himself, were to her.... more particular interests. He had never believed in coincidence and most especially not in the Lord's caprice with his servants. Someone had arranged this then, but whom? She barely spared him a glance more or less than the rest of his entourage but that meant little or nothing. As highly placed as she is, I can only hope that I'm below her gaze. It wouldn't do for Celedyr or Rhonabwy, whichever one of the greats actually supported her employment, to think that his master had developed an interest in the heathen technomages and their ilk. Worse yet if they make a connection between Holy Church, my master and any purification plans...
Anselm had to control himself for the entire portion of the trip by pretending to meditate in the library, pouring over various real hardcopy books that were to be found in the generously appointed library. His eyes acted but did not take up the information his heart was racing so fast. He could only hope that his cover within covers within cover would shield any awkward questions.
Some time later he felt the zeppelin start to descend more from the change of engine noise as faint as it was as from the change in his ears. Slipping comfortably into astral sight he noticed that one portion of the viewport had not actually been warded as the rest of the conveyance had been, most probably local repair work that had been affected before the journey and had not been magically secured as yet. He quickly sent one of his watchers to a deaddrop for just this kind of emergency. Nothing was there but two statues, one phoenix and one a crucifix, both of alabaster stone. His message was two-fold.
//My lord it seems we have been compromised....//
The conversation lasted mere seconds as Anselm transferred his thoughts to his watcher and was relayed the response but seemed to take ages at the speeds that astral communication enabled.
[May 21st, 2072, 10:35:21, NeoNet Zepplin bound for Exeter]
DeBathayre.... where have I heard that name before? Anselm wondered to himself as he read the luggage that was stored immediately before he boarded.
The shock of seeing lady deBathayre in person without a crowd of other sycophants nearly caused Anselm to drop dead of shock. His prior vague recollection came rapidly back into the foreground of his mind as he realized he had indeed met a DeBathayre at a conference many years ago; a conference led by his master and mentor Schwartzkopf, a conference which had been attended primarily by others who represented or served dragonkind.
There had been no other choice but to continue boarding the zeppelin and hope she did not recognize him or his identity; It all depended on how much interaction she had with other servants of Schwartzkopf and how important they, or rather he himself, were to her.... more particular interests. He had never believed in coincidence and most especially not in the Lord's caprice with his servants. Someone had arranged this then, but whom? She barely spared him a glance more or less than the rest of his entourage but that meant little or nothing. As highly placed as she is, I can only hope that I'm below her gaze. It wouldn't do for Celedyr or Rhonabwy, whichever one of the greats actually supported her employment, to think that his master had developed an interest in the heathen technomages and their ilk. Worse yet if they make a connection between Holy Church, my master and any purification plans...
Anselm had to control himself for the entire portion of the trip by pretending to meditate in the library, pouring over various real hardcopy books that were to be found in the generously appointed library. His eyes acted but did not take up the information his heart was racing so fast. He could only hope that his cover within covers within cover would shield any awkward questions.
Some time later he felt the zeppelin start to descend more from the change of engine noise as faint as it was as from the change in his ears. Slipping comfortably into astral sight he noticed that one portion of the viewport had not actually been warded as the rest of the conveyance had been, most probably local repair work that had been affected before the journey and had not been magically secured as yet. He quickly sent one of his watchers to a deaddrop for just this kind of emergency. Nothing was there but two statues, one phoenix and one a crucifix, both of alabaster stone. His message was two-fold.
//My lord it seems we have been compromised....//
The conversation lasted mere seconds as Anselm transferred his thoughts to his watcher and was relayed the response but seemed to take ages at the speeds that astral communication enabled.
@E:Tribes, Sprogget
September 1, 2072 22:28; Ambushed near the Fre∑dom Mall, Puyallup
Bionode: Response 4(5), Signal 2, System 4, Firewall 3; Hidden; Analyze(3), Command(1), Edit(1), Scan(1), Sniffer(3), Spoof(1), {s]Stealth(3)[/s], Shield(1), Tacsoft(2), Simrig(1)
CMT Clip: Response 1, Signal 3, System 1, Firewall 1; Hidden; SIN: Paul Brickhill (R3)
Having sent off the wakeup message, Sprogget prepares to cut the monocycle away from the on coming crotch rocket, aiming to take the Harley carrying the mage from the side as it clears the van. With that locked in, he is still trying to watch all of the sensors at once, to track where the rest of the friendly and enemy resources are. Something unexpected catches his eye on a rooftop accross the road.
@self:LeO?
A CD Owl drone is parked, apparently recharging using it's suncell. It has a distinctive scratch along the near side, that looks a LOT like a drone that the Mechanicals previously modified for Fre∑dom. Not one of the standard perimeter drones, that one had been configured for fairly quick response, to support the 'ground' forces.
@self:That sure looks like LeO, but he should be closer to home. I wonder if he broke down, and had to park it quick? Maybe the mess with virus confused things, and he just needed to park?
@self:I wonder if that old stealthed back door still exists? A normal software backdoor would have never gotten past the Fre∑dom security scans, but they might not have noticed that the stealth tag can open a full admin acount through hardware access, bypassing the firewall. He should still be on that special frequency.
@LeO Tag: <<LeO - O - LeO -- Open the door!{Sprogget ID}>>
@self:No time!
Banking the DR hard at the planned time, Sprogget discovers that the Harley was moving a bit faster than expected. The intended ram catches the rear wheel of the Harley, but with no apparent damage.
@self:Slot it anyway!
Sensors show that LeFey's shot is on target, but no effect there either
@self:Drek, non conductive armor!
Tacsoft shows Scrapheap's target in the Americar taken out.
@self:Yes! Way to Scrap the Scrap, Scrap!
Suddenly though, the Harley is right behind him.
@self:Wha?? He must have cut after me just as I hit him!
Before Sprogget can react, the mage swings that glowing fist, and he feels a blow in his back. Several warning and damage indicators light up showing that a lot of damage made it through the armor, even though his own filters prevented it from reaching the meat.
@self:Ouch! What has he got on that fist anyway? Poor DR is feeling hurt!
Fisty can wait a sec here.
@LeO: <<Instructions:
Immediate high speed launch toward this location
Slave to {Sprogget ID}, joining tacnet
Assign current target priority: Mage on Harley {tacsoft marker}, East Racing Bike riders {tacsoft marker}, Armored Americar {tacsoft marker}, currently missing target 1 {tacsoft marker}
For the mage, try narrow long burst first, if that misses, try wide long burst
Take targets from Sprogget {Sprogget ID}, tacsoft priorities, other members of current tacsoft group
Report status and consumable levels
>>
@jailbreakers [Sprogget]: <<I've accessed an armed drone I know! LeO {LeO connection ID} joining us from roof.>>
Sprogget logs off of the previously hacked node.
@self:If the trace is not done yet, then they can wonder where I was. I'll take LeO!
@self:Now let's see if that drake knows how to drive that chopper.
Swerving left, slowing quickly, then accelerating back right, Sprogget cuts the Harley off.
September 1, 2072 22:28; Ambushed near the Fre∑dom Mall, Puyallup
Bionode: Response 4(5), Signal 2, System 4, Firewall 3; Hidden; Analyze(3), Command(1), Edit(1), Scan(1), Sniffer(3), Spoof(1), {s]Stealth(3)[/s], Shield(1), Tacsoft(2), Simrig(1)
CMT Clip: Response 1, Signal 3, System 1, Firewall 1; Hidden; SIN: Paul Brickhill (R3)
Having sent off the wakeup message, Sprogget prepares to cut the monocycle away from the on coming crotch rocket, aiming to take the Harley carrying the mage from the side as it clears the van. With that locked in, he is still trying to watch all of the sensors at once, to track where the rest of the friendly and enemy resources are. Something unexpected catches his eye on a rooftop accross the road.
@self:LeO?
A CD Owl drone is parked, apparently recharging using it's suncell. It has a distinctive scratch along the near side, that looks a LOT like a drone that the Mechanicals previously modified for Fre∑dom. Not one of the standard perimeter drones, that one had been configured for fairly quick response, to support the 'ground' forces.
@self:That sure looks like LeO, but he should be closer to home. I wonder if he broke down, and had to park it quick? Maybe the mess with virus confused things, and he just needed to park?
@self:I wonder if that old stealthed back door still exists? A normal software backdoor would have never gotten past the Fre∑dom security scans, but they might not have noticed that the stealth tag can open a full admin acount through hardware access, bypassing the firewall. He should still be on that special frequency.
@LeO Tag: <<LeO - O - LeO -- Open the door!{Sprogget ID}>>
@self:No time!
Banking the DR hard at the planned time, Sprogget discovers that the Harley was moving a bit faster than expected. The intended ram catches the rear wheel of the Harley, but with no apparent damage.
@self:Slot it anyway!
Sensors show that LeFey's shot is on target, but no effect there either
@self:Drek, non conductive armor!
Tacsoft shows Scrapheap's target in the Americar taken out.
@self:Yes! Way to Scrap the Scrap, Scrap!
Suddenly though, the Harley is right behind him.
@self:Wha?? He must have cut after me just as I hit him!
Before Sprogget can react, the mage swings that glowing fist, and he feels a blow in his back. Several warning and damage indicators light up showing that a lot of damage made it through the armor, even though his own filters prevented it from reaching the meat.
@self:Ouch! What has he got on that fist anyway? Poor DR is feeling hurt!
LeO:<<Ready, {Sprogget ID} logged in as admin.>>@self:LeO!
Fisty can wait a sec here.
@LeO: <<Instructions:
Immediate high speed launch toward this location
Slave to {Sprogget ID}, joining tacnet
Assign current target priority: Mage on Harley {tacsoft marker}, East Racing Bike riders {tacsoft marker}, Armored Americar {tacsoft marker}, currently missing target 1 {tacsoft marker}
For the mage, try narrow long burst first, if that misses, try wide long burst
Take targets from Sprogget {Sprogget ID}, tacsoft priorities, other members of current tacsoft group
Report status and consumable levels
>>
@jailbreakers [Sprogget]: <<I've accessed an armed drone I know! LeO {LeO connection ID} joining us from roof.>>
Sprogget logs off of the previously hacked node.
@self:If the trace is not done yet, then they can wonder where I was. I'll take LeO!
@self:Now let's see if that drake knows how to drive that chopper.
Swerving left, slowing quickly, then accelerating back right, Sprogget cuts the Harley off.
@Virtual Scream / Dante, Dubstep, Cat
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: hidden, Response 1, Signal 3, System 2, Firewall 1
Keeping most of his body perfectly still, Dante's eyes scan the crowd for faces of possible allies in the form of Red Lotus members. Meanwhile he slips his heavy pistol out of it's holster and holds it concealed down by his side, out of view. The safety controls on the magnetic system in his cyberarm take a momentary flicker of attention to turn off using DNI.
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: hidden, Response 1, Signal 3, System 2, Firewall 1
Keeping most of his body perfectly still, Dante's eyes scan the crowd for faces of possible allies in the form of Red Lotus members. Meanwhile he slips his heavy pistol out of it's holster and holds it concealed down by his side, out of view. The safety controls on the magnetic system in his cyberarm take a momentary flicker of attention to turn off using DNI.
@E:Tribes
Tweak
September 1, 2072 22:28 Ambushed near the Freedom Mall, Puyallup
[Inside the Van]
Novatech Airwave: Hidden, SIN: James Teems (fake R3)
The street in front of the van is clear, all the gangers are behind him, the van has only taken minor damage, nobody would stop him...
The hell I am!
The van's tires squeal as Tweak mentally slams the brakes, the vans comes to a stop and the tires squal even louder as the van accelerates again, heading back for the gangers and his friends.
Spring
September 1, 2072 22:28 Ambushed near the Freedom Mall, Puyallup
[On a scooter in the middle of the street]
Renraku Sensei: Hidden, SIN: Steven Brokvich (fake R3)
Gangers barrelling down at him, shooting at him - missing, for now -, the boy decides that the middle of the road most definitely is not the right place to be how about my shop instead? He steers his scooter to what's left of some building and starts looking for someplace safer.
Tweak
September 1, 2072 22:28 Ambushed near the Freedom Mall, Puyallup
[Inside the Van]
Novatech Airwave: Hidden, SIN: James Teems (fake R3)
The street in front of the van is clear, all the gangers are behind him, the van has only taken minor damage, nobody would stop him...
The hell I am!
The van's tires squeal as Tweak mentally slams the brakes, the vans comes to a stop and the tires squal even louder as the van accelerates again, heading back for the gangers and his friends.
Spring
September 1, 2072 22:28 Ambushed near the Freedom Mall, Puyallup
[On a scooter in the middle of the street]
Renraku Sensei: Hidden, SIN: Steven Brokvich (fake R3)
Gangers barrelling down at him, shooting at him - missing, for now -, the boy decides that the middle of the road most definitely is not the right place to be how about my shop instead? He steers his scooter to what's left of some building and starts looking for someplace safer.
[quote name='phlapjack77' date='Mar 16 2013, 03:59 PM' post='1217137']
@Virtual Scream / Dante, Dubstep, Cat
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: hidden, Response 1, Signal 3, System 2, Firewall 1
<<@Cat, Dubstep [Dante] : When I signal on your commlink, you both should take cover. It will be very soon.>>
@Virtual Scream / Dante, Dubstep, Cat
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: hidden, Response 1, Signal 3, System 2, Firewall 1
<<@Cat, Dubstep [Dante] : When I signal on your commlink, you both should take cover. It will be very soon.>>
@E:PL/Chi Town/Gemeaux, Mordred & Tsubaki
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; East of the river, Clybourn Ave, CZ, Chicago]
PAN - Active ; SIN - Maximilien Danton
For someone who had grown up having to appreciate nature from the safe confines of the civilized world, Gemeaux sees the following set of weeks as a didactic experience as to why civilization is humanity's crowning achievement. Extreme weather? Dirt that gets in everything? Bugs that bite you when you least expect it? Gemeaux had lived a perfectly full life without having to endure any of these "natural phenomena", and he prays every day that he never has to suffer them again.
His mood gets a bit better upon arrival in Bristol, and improves exponentially once he is able to purchase more ammunition. This time, he purchases about as much as he can carry. If small corporate armies are going to cross them at every turn, then he would have the arsenal to fight them off.
Traveling across the Atlantic is another stretch of boredom. However, Gemeaux takes advantage of the downtime to freely smoke without having to worry about young Luc's developing lungs. He also takes the opportunity to improve his skills at lobbing grenade-like objects. He finds Luc a willing participant in this game, and the assassin whittles away the downtime by seeing who can toss the "ball" closest to the target.
All of that downtime is immediately wiped away once Gemeaux reaches Chicago. With autofire in the distance, he draws out Le Dernier Mot.
<<[Gemeaux]: Vivienne, the word is given.>>
<<[Vivenne]: Understood. Switching to your running name. Wires on and weapons free.>>
The chameleon coating on his suit, weapons, and newly purchased smartpack turn on. The assassin fades into the background, and cautiously approaches the sound of battle...
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; East of the river, Clybourn Ave, CZ, Chicago]
PAN - Active ; SIN - Maximilien Danton
For someone who had grown up having to appreciate nature from the safe confines of the civilized world, Gemeaux sees the following set of weeks as a didactic experience as to why civilization is humanity's crowning achievement. Extreme weather? Dirt that gets in everything? Bugs that bite you when you least expect it? Gemeaux had lived a perfectly full life without having to endure any of these "natural phenomena", and he prays every day that he never has to suffer them again.
His mood gets a bit better upon arrival in Bristol, and improves exponentially once he is able to purchase more ammunition. This time, he purchases about as much as he can carry. If small corporate armies are going to cross them at every turn, then he would have the arsenal to fight them off.
Traveling across the Atlantic is another stretch of boredom. However, Gemeaux takes advantage of the downtime to freely smoke without having to worry about young Luc's developing lungs. He also takes the opportunity to improve his skills at lobbing grenade-like objects. He finds Luc a willing participant in this game, and the assassin whittles away the downtime by seeing who can toss the "ball" closest to the target.
All of that downtime is immediately wiped away once Gemeaux reaches Chicago. With autofire in the distance, he draws out Le Dernier Mot.
<<[Gemeaux]: Vivienne, the word is given.>>
<<[Vivenne]: Understood. Switching to your running name. Wires on and weapons free.>>
The chameleon coating on his suit, weapons, and newly purchased smartpack turn on. The assassin fades into the background, and cautiously approaches the sound of battle...
@E:PL/UK
[May 21st, 2072, 15:52:41, NeoNet Zepplin bound for Exeter, ETA 16:00:00]
Anselm knew he'd have to just take the risk that he could patch things up with his bodyguard cum assassin and the rest of the group but he didn't feel that he had much choice. The extra attention the trip had garnered added weight to the idea that his presence was endangering the mission, a fact which he hoped his companions would give some thought when and if he could reunite with them.
The sight of Charlie's limo parked and waiting for him was a welcome one, despite the impending relational difficulties. As the zeppelin finished it's docking, he fingered the tiny bundle he had acquired as a remote hope against the future. Well at least this time I know I'm in trouble... He sighed in a resigned fashion which drew an inquisitive look from Mr. Collot but no comment, a slight mercy considering the circumstances. Gesturing for the rest of the party to wait he quickly walked up to the drivers window to see that it wasn't, as he had expected, his faithful driver Charlie but rather a snazzily dressed member of the cloth. This much was obvious by his dark black clothing and clerical collar, though the black lining gave Anselm cause for a moments pause.
"Good day Father, Charlie is temporarily unavailable so the Vicar sends his greetings and myself to serve you as you need in your work. The rest of your party is, unfortunately, not welcome to accompany you." Anselm's gorge rose as he was tempted to rebuke this mid-ranking servant of some obsolete and unimportant functionary of the church, but he remembered his place and his loyalties and so said nothing but to curtly nod and get into the vehicle.
[May 21st, 2072, 15:52:41, NeoNet Zepplin bound for Exeter, ETA 16:00:00]
Anselm knew he'd have to just take the risk that he could patch things up with his bodyguard cum assassin and the rest of the group but he didn't feel that he had much choice. The extra attention the trip had garnered added weight to the idea that his presence was endangering the mission, a fact which he hoped his companions would give some thought when and if he could reunite with them.
The sight of Charlie's limo parked and waiting for him was a welcome one, despite the impending relational difficulties. As the zeppelin finished it's docking, he fingered the tiny bundle he had acquired as a remote hope against the future. Well at least this time I know I'm in trouble... He sighed in a resigned fashion which drew an inquisitive look from Mr. Collot but no comment, a slight mercy considering the circumstances. Gesturing for the rest of the party to wait he quickly walked up to the drivers window to see that it wasn't, as he had expected, his faithful driver Charlie but rather a snazzily dressed member of the cloth. This much was obvious by his dark black clothing and clerical collar, though the black lining gave Anselm cause for a moments pause.
"Good day Father, Charlie is temporarily unavailable so the Vicar sends his greetings and myself to serve you as you need in your work. The rest of your party is, unfortunately, not welcome to accompany you." Anselm's gorge rose as he was tempted to rebuke this mid-ranking servant of some obsolete and unimportant functionary of the church, but he remembered his place and his loyalties and so said nothing but to curtly nod and get into the vehicle.
@E:Tribes
September 1, 2072 22:28 Approx 600m from the Fre∑dom Mall, Puyallup
SIN: Iwakura Lain, PAN: Passive
"Ow!" LeFey bounces off the other passenger and back into her seat. "Sorry. Ugh...sorry."
Now she regretted not having an regular gun. It figured that they decked out their magic user in nonconductive armor. Morgan hated to leave someone else to fight him, but there was nothing she could do with a taser. Speaking of which, with everything going on, she couldn't quite see all of the others. <<Hey, is everyone alright?>>
She decides to give Spring some cover as he retreats and fires two shots at one of the bikers.
September 1, 2072 22:28 Approx 600m from the Fre∑dom Mall, Puyallup
SIN: Iwakura Lain, PAN: Passive
"Ow!" LeFey bounces off the other passenger and back into her seat. "Sorry. Ugh...sorry."
Now she regretted not having an regular gun. It figured that they decked out their magic user in nonconductive armor. Morgan hated to leave someone else to fight him, but there was nothing she could do with a taser. Speaking of which, with everything going on, she couldn't quite see all of the others. <<Hey, is everyone alright?>>
She decides to give Spring some cover as he retreats and fires two shots at one of the bikers.
@Virtual Scream / Dante, Dubstep, Cat
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
Still apparently snoozing, Dubstep's mind moves at lightning speeds. A burst of data sends Cindy hurtling towards the Mitsuhama Nexus to download the datafile left behind in the empty node. At the same time Dubstep scans for all nodes in the vicinity. He picks up the waitress' link almost immediately and another couple across the room. He can sense others further out, in the kitchen and upstairs but gets nothing on the hostiles flagged up by Cindy. He focuses on the space where the one she indicated as their leader should be and kicks in his Scan program.
A hidden node pings into existence. It seems these gangers have at least a basic understanding of the digital realm.
Feeling a trembling in Dante's arm as his wires engage and the gunslide deploys his pistol into his hand, Cat withdraws her hand and turns her attention to the approaching ganger.
'Chunky' approaches with a swagger, the old Pedator held gansta-style on its side and pointing mostly at Dante.
"What we got here? A filthy trog, a keeb whore and a redskin asleep on the job. Sounds like a joke I once heard or maybe I'm breaking up a meeting of da Meta Liberation Front . Hahahah!"
He leers at Cat, looking her up and down with a mix of loathing and lust, keeping the old pistol hovering halfway between her and Dante.
Hands held up in front of her chest, Jenny Ho edges ever so slowly away from Chunky until the ganger's leader waves his SMG at her.
"Just stay where you are gook girl. No skin off me if you lives or dies."
She halts with a yelp, while across the room, 'Skinny' relieves the chinese couple of their electronics and other valuables. He has put the scanner down on the table and is currently stuffing their commlinks and other items into the pockets of his oversized long coat.
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
Still apparently snoozing, Dubstep's mind moves at lightning speeds. A burst of data sends Cindy hurtling towards the Mitsuhama Nexus to download the datafile left behind in the empty node. At the same time Dubstep scans for all nodes in the vicinity. He picks up the waitress' link almost immediately and another couple across the room. He can sense others further out, in the kitchen and upstairs but gets nothing on the hostiles flagged up by Cindy. He focuses on the space where the one she indicated as their leader should be and kicks in his Scan program.
A hidden node pings into existence. It seems these gangers have at least a basic understanding of the digital realm.
Feeling a trembling in Dante's arm as his wires engage and the gunslide deploys his pistol into his hand, Cat withdraws her hand and turns her attention to the approaching ganger.
'Chunky' approaches with a swagger, the old Pedator held gansta-style on its side and pointing mostly at Dante.
"What we got here? A filthy trog, a keeb whore and a redskin asleep on the job. Sounds like a joke I once heard or maybe I'm breaking up a meeting of da Meta Liberation Front . Hahahah!"
He leers at Cat, looking her up and down with a mix of loathing and lust, keeping the old pistol hovering halfway between her and Dante.
Hands held up in front of her chest, Jenny Ho edges ever so slowly away from Chunky until the ganger's leader waves his SMG at her.
"Just stay where you are gook girl. No skin off me if you lives or dies."
She halts with a yelp, while across the room, 'Skinny' relieves the chinese couple of their electronics and other valuables. He has put the scanner down on the table and is currently stuffing their commlinks and other items into the pockets of his oversized long coat.
@Virtual Scream / Dante, Dubstep, Cat
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: hidden, Response 1, Signal 3, System 2, Firewall 1
<<@Dubstep [Dante] : Can you hack some node in this room, maybe a commlink or their electronic device? Make it cause a distraction.>>
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: hidden, Response 1, Signal 3, System 2, Firewall 1
<<@Dubstep [Dante] : Can you hack some node in this room, maybe a commlink or their electronic device? Make it cause a distraction.>>
@Virtual Scream / Cat, Dubstep, Dante
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: Active, SIN: Moll Flanders (Fake SIN Rtg 4), System: 2, Signal: 2, Response: 2, Firewall: 2
Seeing the fear on the waitresses face sparks at some defiance in Cat's core, giving her a brief moment of courage, or stupidity. Ignoring Chunky in front of her she looks past him, directing her level toned voice at the leader.
"Hey hot shot, eyes on the prize. Genuine rare fauna over here. No point wasting your bullets on her when there's a billion others waiting to take her place."
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
PAN: Active, SIN: Moll Flanders (Fake SIN Rtg 4), System: 2, Signal: 2, Response: 2, Firewall: 2
Seeing the fear on the waitresses face sparks at some defiance in Cat's core, giving her a brief moment of courage, or stupidity. Ignoring Chunky in front of her she looks past him, directing her level toned voice at the leader.
"Hey hot shot, eyes on the prize. Genuine rare fauna over here. No point wasting your bullets on her when there's a billion others waiting to take her place."
Balefire
[Wednesday August 17th, 2072; Unknown Matrix Node, Seattle]
Silk stepped out into a confused mess of iconography as her reality filter struggled against the inherent node architecture. Giving it up as an impossible task she unloaded the program to find herself on a black and white chequered path leading through a crazy garden. Ahead of her the rabbit bounded into a hole in the bank under a twisted old oak tree.
Herne appeared beside her in none of his usual guises, instead adopting the two dimensional image of a playing card knight. Glancing down at herself she was relieved to see that she wasn’t also a card. She’d been rendered in some sort of antique courtier’s garb with subtle silvery spade symbols woven into the heavy shot silk.
Bending down by the rabbit hole she brushed aside the whispering flowers to peer into the depths. Half expecting it she looked up into the branches of the tree at a sudden purring sound and the faint scritch of a cat’s claws as it kneaded the bark of the oak. There was nothing there beyond the faint hint of a smile lingering in the air.
“You can go in you know?” Great! Down the rabbit hole…!
And she plunged into a vortex of the wireless link to who knows where. The sense of falling lasted an eon in matrix time so it might represent a satlink somewhere, although the last time she had seen Summer it had been in the flesh here in Seattle. Maybe it was just part of the Alice illusion, she would just have to see if there was an inviting cake waiting for her at the end inscribed “eat me”…
She landed with a gentle bump to find herself in a pleasant garden room with Alice herself, or rather Summer.
“You came? Thank you, I wasn’t sure if you would, I just knew that it was important that you did”
“Can we not talk in riddles please?” Silk responded in an exasperated tone. It hadn’t been quite this bad when she’d had dealings with this strange matrix oracle before and if she could reign in the weirdness before Summer got into her stride then she stood a good chance of understanding what this odd little girl was going on about.
“You found it then, the key to the next step? To your next step…Aria will be pleased”
“Aria?” Silk interrupted, “she knew about all this? Whatever this is…you still haven’t told me. Is it the Mindset files?”
“I don’t know what it is; I just see the pivotal moments, follow the patterns in the Resonance to predict the outcomes and sometimes adjust them. This one leads you to where you need to go.”
“And where the hell is that?”
“I don’t know yet. Aria probably does, but then she’s known about this for years.”
“Years? I need some answers! If you can’t give them to me why did you drag me here? I’m not sure I can wring the answers out of Aria but I’m bloody well going to try!”
For a moment Summer/Alice went still, presumably as she did her thing, reading the Resonance or whatever it was, giving Silk a moment to marvel at this matrix place she’d been brought to. The sculpting wasn’t quite UV level, that would have been an unforgettable experience, but it wasn’t far off. She could feel the faint brush of air from the open doors to the garden and smell the heady mix of impossible scents.
“Mindset…” and she shivered “they were hunting my kind. I know that’s nothing new, stories are coming out even outside the shadows now. Why this one is so important to you…” and she shrugged. “But maybe you are just a catalyst for what is coming. The darkness is looming and I have a feeling that you are tied into that. Or perhaps it would be fairer to say that Aria has tied you into that…”
“Aria’s just a hacker that used to run with my Mum and her team…” but as soon as she said it she knew there was more to it than that. Bale might know more, at least he was close to his brother, they might have discussed who Aria was.
“You still haven’t really told me why you brought me here!”
“Perhaps to send you back to Aria now that you know? I’m not given clear instructions you know, I have to interpret what I see. Don’t worry, it’s more than educated guesswork, what I do has a real effect on the world. Whether you like it or not you are dancing to the strings she is pulling, perhaps you always have been, but rest assured, it is important. Possibly even earth shatteringly so.”
“That all sounds a bit melodramatic…” to which Summer could only shrug again. Frag! “Ok, I’ll go and badger Aria and leave you to whatever it is you are doing down here…following the patterns. I can appreciate reading patterns, we might even have something in common!”
Time to find out what this earth shattering destiny was that Aria had cooked up for her. She couldn’t help feeling sceptical, she had a gift and she wasn’t a bad runner but she was under no illusions about the scale of her actions and what they represented for the world at large. Then again wasn’t there a saying about small stones and ripples on a pond…?
[Wednesday August 17th, 2072; Unknown Matrix Node, Seattle]
Silk stepped out into a confused mess of iconography as her reality filter struggled against the inherent node architecture. Giving it up as an impossible task she unloaded the program to find herself on a black and white chequered path leading through a crazy garden. Ahead of her the rabbit bounded into a hole in the bank under a twisted old oak tree.
Herne appeared beside her in none of his usual guises, instead adopting the two dimensional image of a playing card knight. Glancing down at herself she was relieved to see that she wasn’t also a card. She’d been rendered in some sort of antique courtier’s garb with subtle silvery spade symbols woven into the heavy shot silk.
Bending down by the rabbit hole she brushed aside the whispering flowers to peer into the depths. Half expecting it she looked up into the branches of the tree at a sudden purring sound and the faint scritch of a cat’s claws as it kneaded the bark of the oak. There was nothing there beyond the faint hint of a smile lingering in the air.
“You can go in you know?” Great! Down the rabbit hole…!
And she plunged into a vortex of the wireless link to who knows where. The sense of falling lasted an eon in matrix time so it might represent a satlink somewhere, although the last time she had seen Summer it had been in the flesh here in Seattle. Maybe it was just part of the Alice illusion, she would just have to see if there was an inviting cake waiting for her at the end inscribed “eat me”…
She landed with a gentle bump to find herself in a pleasant garden room with Alice herself, or rather Summer.
“You came? Thank you, I wasn’t sure if you would, I just knew that it was important that you did”
“Can we not talk in riddles please?” Silk responded in an exasperated tone. It hadn’t been quite this bad when she’d had dealings with this strange matrix oracle before and if she could reign in the weirdness before Summer got into her stride then she stood a good chance of understanding what this odd little girl was going on about.
“You found it then, the key to the next step? To your next step…Aria will be pleased”
“Aria?” Silk interrupted, “she knew about all this? Whatever this is…you still haven’t told me. Is it the Mindset files?”
“I don’t know what it is; I just see the pivotal moments, follow the patterns in the Resonance to predict the outcomes and sometimes adjust them. This one leads you to where you need to go.”
“And where the hell is that?”
“I don’t know yet. Aria probably does, but then she’s known about this for years.”
“Years? I need some answers! If you can’t give them to me why did you drag me here? I’m not sure I can wring the answers out of Aria but I’m bloody well going to try!”
For a moment Summer/Alice went still, presumably as she did her thing, reading the Resonance or whatever it was, giving Silk a moment to marvel at this matrix place she’d been brought to. The sculpting wasn’t quite UV level, that would have been an unforgettable experience, but it wasn’t far off. She could feel the faint brush of air from the open doors to the garden and smell the heady mix of impossible scents.
“Mindset…” and she shivered “they were hunting my kind. I know that’s nothing new, stories are coming out even outside the shadows now. Why this one is so important to you…” and she shrugged. “But maybe you are just a catalyst for what is coming. The darkness is looming and I have a feeling that you are tied into that. Or perhaps it would be fairer to say that Aria has tied you into that…”
“Aria’s just a hacker that used to run with my Mum and her team…” but as soon as she said it she knew there was more to it than that. Bale might know more, at least he was close to his brother, they might have discussed who Aria was.
“You still haven’t really told me why you brought me here!”
“Perhaps to send you back to Aria now that you know? I’m not given clear instructions you know, I have to interpret what I see. Don’t worry, it’s more than educated guesswork, what I do has a real effect on the world. Whether you like it or not you are dancing to the strings she is pulling, perhaps you always have been, but rest assured, it is important. Possibly even earth shatteringly so.”
“That all sounds a bit melodramatic…” to which Summer could only shrug again. Frag! “Ok, I’ll go and badger Aria and leave you to whatever it is you are doing down here…following the patterns. I can appreciate reading patterns, we might even have something in common!”
Time to find out what this earth shattering destiny was that Aria had cooked up for her. She couldn’t help feeling sceptical, she had a gift and she wasn’t a bad runner but she was under no illusions about the scale of her actions and what they represented for the world at large. Then again wasn’t there a saying about small stones and ripples on a pond…?
@Virtual Scream, Alex Bianchi
September 2, 2072, 12:44; Not quite the Barrens
Renraku Sensei: Hidden | SIN: Jimmy Delfino (Fake ID, Rating 3) (Re 2 - Sig 4 - Fi 2 - Sys 2)
Charlie nods his twin hypervelocity SMGs at Alex and follows him to the door, while Harvey responds with a simple message.
<<@Jimmy[Harvey]: Okay, it's your play. Need to log while the doc stitches me up. Be careful.>>
From inside the door, he can hear frantic mutterings and noises of people moving around and was that a gun being cocked? A voice calls out hesitantly from behind the door.
"Yea? Who's there? Whadda ya want?"
September 2, 2072, 12:44; Not quite the Barrens
Renraku Sensei: Hidden | SIN: Jimmy Delfino (Fake ID, Rating 3) (Re 2 - Sig 4 - Fi 2 - Sys 2)
Charlie nods his twin hypervelocity SMGs at Alex and follows him to the door, while Harvey responds with a simple message.
<<@Jimmy[Harvey]: Okay, it's your play. Need to log while the doc stitches me up. Be careful.>>
From inside the door, he can hear frantic mutterings and noises of people moving around and was that a gun being cocked? A voice calls out hesitantly from behind the door.
"Yea? Who's there? Whadda ya want?"
@Virtual Scream, Alex Bianchi
September 2, 2072, 12:44; Not quite the Barrens
Renraku Sensei: Hidden | SIN: Jimmy Delfino (Fake ID, Rating 3) (Re 2 - Sig 4 - Fi 2 - Sys 2)
Okay, they're not all the way on the ball. Authoritative, but don't act like a cop. Bull rush them with words, keep 'em from thinking too hard. And hope that their trigger fingers aren't itchy.
Alex set his face in a calm, slightly annoyed cast. "I'm the person who's got to clean up the mess you made of the situation with the dwarf. Open the damn door, I've still got places to be today."
September 2, 2072, 12:44; Not quite the Barrens
Renraku Sensei: Hidden | SIN: Jimmy Delfino (Fake ID, Rating 3) (Re 2 - Sig 4 - Fi 2 - Sys 2)
Okay, they're not all the way on the ball. Authoritative, but don't act like a cop. Bull rush them with words, keep 'em from thinking too hard. And hope that their trigger fingers aren't itchy.
Alex set his face in a calm, slightly annoyed cast. "I'm the person who's got to clean up the mess you made of the situation with the dwarf. Open the damn door, I've still got places to be today."
@E:PL/Chi Town/Gemeaux, Mordred & Tsubaki
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; East of the river, Clybourn Ave, CZ, Chicago]
Moving as rapidly as caution will allow you make your way to the river. The bridge across is in a sorry state but you think it will bear your weight. Over the far side you can see flashes of fire and in the grim shadows you can see hunched grey forms, giving off very little thermal signature, lurching towards a small group of defenders and then backing off with dimly heard snarls of rage. It can’t be long before the defenders run out of things to throw at their aggressors though…
Copperhead
The rifle round slams into you under your ribs and although it doesn’t penetrate your armour you are going to have a lovely bruise there that will last for weeks! Your return shot blasts into the air above you as you vainly try to pin down Snag. It takes you a moment but you realise that the dimly seen form that you fired at is further to your left than the presence of your spirit would indicate Snag is lurking. The spirit flashes a view of its fangs sinking in to Snag’s malevolent aura but whether or not it has bloodied him it is too early to tell…
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; East of the river, Clybourn Ave, CZ, Chicago]
Moving as rapidly as caution will allow you make your way to the river. The bridge across is in a sorry state but you think it will bear your weight. Over the far side you can see flashes of fire and in the grim shadows you can see hunched grey forms, giving off very little thermal signature, lurching towards a small group of defenders and then backing off with dimly heard snarls of rage. It can’t be long before the defenders run out of things to throw at their aggressors though…
Copperhead
The rifle round slams into you under your ribs and although it doesn’t penetrate your armour you are going to have a lovely bruise there that will last for weeks! Your return shot blasts into the air above you as you vainly try to pin down Snag. It takes you a moment but you realise that the dimly seen form that you fired at is further to your left than the presence of your spirit would indicate Snag is lurking. The spirit flashes a view of its fangs sinking in to Snag’s malevolent aura but whether or not it has bloodied him it is too early to tell…
@E:PL/Chi Town/Gemeaux, Mordred & Tsubaki
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; East of the river, Clybourn Ave, CZ, Chicago]
PAN - Active ; SIN - Maximilien Danton
Gemeaux draws out Le Dernier Mot and peers through the scope. He frowns when he sees the figures moving towards the defenders.
<<@Group[Gemeaux]: Test the bridge if you like. I might be able to start dispatching some of these goons from here.>>
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; East of the river, Clybourn Ave, CZ, Chicago]
PAN - Active ; SIN - Maximilien Danton
Gemeaux draws out Le Dernier Mot and peers through the scope. He frowns when he sees the figures moving towards the defenders.
<<@Group[Gemeaux]: Test the bridge if you like. I might be able to start dispatching some of these goons from here.>>
@E:Tribes,
September 1, 2072 22:28 Approx 600m from the Fre∑dom Mall, Puyallup
Scrapheap
With the kill count growing you can feel the adrenalin coursing through you and not bothering to hide the feral grin turn your attentions back to the oncoming wagon. The shotgun blast leaves an impressive dent in the hood but the steel plate that has been junk welded to the front of the car seems to have absorbed the punishment and there’s no sign of actual damage to the functioning of that abomination of a vehicle…the fact that it is functioning at all is a small miracle, at least going by the outward appearance…
Tweak
The tyres tearing up the road as you reverse, you vaguely aim for the remaining biker with your rear facing sensors to guide you. There’s no chance of catching the nimble crotch rocket, even if you were going forwards, but you might be able to distract him enough that he decides not to shoot at anyone…in fact he seems to be deciding that he’s feeling lonely as he takes a look at the bloodbath and makes a bid for his own personal freedom…
Spring
From the dubious safety of a doorway at the side of the road you reach out to draw a spirit to you…
Sprogget
Swerving erratically you cut off the Harley but unfortunately he is too good a driver to force him to crash…it does slow him enough that it allows LeO to draw a bead on him and you get a tacnet warning of the incoming fire, along with the slightly worrying warning that you are in the current line of fire and there is a small, but acceptable, chance of winging the mono bike.
The line of fire stitches a line across the orc’s armoured torso and with a snarl of rage he angles his bike back towards the north in an attempt to evade further attacks, ducking low to make the most of the bike’s armoured cowl…it’s almost as if you have them on the run after the short and brutal engagement! Having their trap turned so neatly against them has clearly been a surprise!
LeFey
You fire at the remaining crotch rocket but the jinking form is at the extreme end of your range already…probably not worth wasting further ammo, they appear to finally be on the run and you are almost amazed to see that your crono indicates not much more than thirty seconds have passed!
September 1, 2072 22:28 Approx 600m from the Fre∑dom Mall, Puyallup
Scrapheap
With the kill count growing you can feel the adrenalin coursing through you and not bothering to hide the feral grin turn your attentions back to the oncoming wagon. The shotgun blast leaves an impressive dent in the hood but the steel plate that has been junk welded to the front of the car seems to have absorbed the punishment and there’s no sign of actual damage to the functioning of that abomination of a vehicle…the fact that it is functioning at all is a small miracle, at least going by the outward appearance…
Tweak
The tyres tearing up the road as you reverse, you vaguely aim for the remaining biker with your rear facing sensors to guide you. There’s no chance of catching the nimble crotch rocket, even if you were going forwards, but you might be able to distract him enough that he decides not to shoot at anyone…in fact he seems to be deciding that he’s feeling lonely as he takes a look at the bloodbath and makes a bid for his own personal freedom…
Spring
From the dubious safety of a doorway at the side of the road you reach out to draw a spirit to you…
Sprogget
Swerving erratically you cut off the Harley but unfortunately he is too good a driver to force him to crash…it does slow him enough that it allows LeO to draw a bead on him and you get a tacnet warning of the incoming fire, along with the slightly worrying warning that you are in the current line of fire and there is a small, but acceptable, chance of winging the mono bike.
The line of fire stitches a line across the orc’s armoured torso and with a snarl of rage he angles his bike back towards the north in an attempt to evade further attacks, ducking low to make the most of the bike’s armoured cowl…it’s almost as if you have them on the run after the short and brutal engagement! Having their trap turned so neatly against them has clearly been a surprise!
LeFey
You fire at the remaining crotch rocket but the jinking form is at the extreme end of your range already…probably not worth wasting further ammo, they appear to finally be on the run and you are almost amazed to see that your crono indicates not much more than thirty seconds have passed!
@E:Tribes
Spring
September 1, 2072 22:28 Approx 600m from the Fre∑dom Mall, Puyallup
[Crouching in a doorway]
Renraku Sensei: Hidden, SIN: Steven Brokvich (fake R3)
Frak, frak, frak, frak!
Spring looks around frantically. His gun at home, his armor as well and on top of that, they're outnumbered and facing a mage to boot.
Well, he's not the only one in town, is he? But I can't just... It'd have to be bigger, something to scare the drek out... but how'd I get them that size...
Maybe it's pure desperation, maybe inspiration taking pity on him, but suddenly he has a moment of clarity, giving him a feeling of deep understanding.
Yes!
The young boy feels a rush of joy and of power like a drug addict getting a long needed high. And like a drug addict, he's not too keen on moderation.
Fire seems to spring from his eyes, his skin seems to glow with power as first slowly then faster then quick as lightning, scrap metal lying on the ground moves and forms a body, additional pieces materializing out of thin air to snap into place.
Hah, so easy, should've done that ages ago.
Hybris, has been the downfall of many a man and this boy seems to be its latest victim.
In the whirling mass of metal, two glowing red eyes form, focusing on Spring
WHAT DO YOU THINK WHO YOU ARE?
I.. I... am. I am the
For a moment the boy and the spirit are locked in mental battle. The powerful glow is gone from Spring, replaced by unhealthy - and decidedly painful - looking flames that wander around on his body, scarring flesh but leaving cloth undamaged.
I am the one who commands you!
With the last of his strength, the young boy manges to win this fight; at a high price.
With an angry hiss, the spirit forms fully. It is a four-legged creature about the size of a small bear made of metal. Or rather the metal framework of such a creature without the skin covering it. Inside, complicated gear systems move and spin and whirr with every move. In the middle, a core of fire pulsates with a mesh of fiery conduits leading from it to every part of the creature like blood vessels in a real animal. Taking it all in at once, it looks like a clockwork dragon. And a pissed-off one at that.
Lowering his head in a surprisingly cat-like movement, the spirit seems to accept his defeat for now. Whipping his head around, it seems to search for someone to take its anger out on while its master behind it lets out a cry of pain.
Spring
September 1, 2072 22:28 Approx 600m from the Fre∑dom Mall, Puyallup
[Crouching in a doorway]
Renraku Sensei: Hidden, SIN: Steven Brokvich (fake R3)
Frak, frak, frak, frak!
Spring looks around frantically. His gun at home, his armor as well and on top of that, they're outnumbered and facing a mage to boot.
Well, he's not the only one in town, is he? But I can't just... It'd have to be bigger, something to scare the drek out... but how'd I get them that size...
Maybe it's pure desperation, maybe inspiration taking pity on him, but suddenly he has a moment of clarity, giving him a feeling of deep understanding.
Yes!
The young boy feels a rush of joy and of power like a drug addict getting a long needed high. And like a drug addict, he's not too keen on moderation.
Fire seems to spring from his eyes, his skin seems to glow with power as first slowly then faster then quick as lightning, scrap metal lying on the ground moves and forms a body, additional pieces materializing out of thin air to snap into place.
Hah, so easy, should've done that ages ago.
Hybris, has been the downfall of many a man and this boy seems to be its latest victim.
In the whirling mass of metal, two glowing red eyes form, focusing on Spring
WHAT DO YOU THINK WHO YOU ARE?
I.. I... am. I am the
For a moment the boy and the spirit are locked in mental battle. The powerful glow is gone from Spring, replaced by unhealthy - and decidedly painful - looking flames that wander around on his body, scarring flesh but leaving cloth undamaged.
I am the one who commands you!
With the last of his strength, the young boy manges to win this fight; at a high price.
With an angry hiss, the spirit forms fully. It is a four-legged creature about the size of a small bear made of metal. Or rather the metal framework of such a creature without the skin covering it. Inside, complicated gear systems move and spin and whirr with every move. In the middle, a core of fire pulsates with a mesh of fiery conduits leading from it to every part of the creature like blood vessels in a real animal. Taking it all in at once, it looks like a clockwork dragon. And a pissed-off one at that.
Lowering his head in a surprisingly cat-like movement, the spirit seems to accept his defeat for now. Whipping his head around, it seems to search for someone to take its anger out on while its master behind it lets out a cry of pain.
@E:Tribes, Sprogget
September 1, 2072 22:28; Ambushed near the Fre?dom Mall, Puyallup
Bionode: Response 4(5), Signal 2, System 4, Firewall 3; Hidden; Analyze(3), Command(1), Edit(1), Scan(1), Sniffer(3), Spoof(1), {s]Stealth(3)[/s], Shield(1), Tacsoft(2), Simrig(1)
CMT Clip: Response 1, Signal 3, System 1, Firewall 1; Hidden; SIN: Paul Brickhill (R3)
The swerve successfully cuts off the Harley, but Sprogget's elation is short lived as the chopper remains under control.
@self:Drek, now what?
Then in the good/bad news area, tacnet shows that LeO is active, and has a target lock, but that the incoming fire is going to be rather close to the monocyle. Mentally urging LeO's aim to be accurate, he watches the path almost mesmerized.
@self:The mage please, not DR!
As LeO's rounds find the Ork, Sprogget relaxes a little.
@self:Take that! A little payback for what you did to DR!
Using the opportunity to get a bit of distance from the Harley, and clearing the line of fire if LeO needs another shot, he reviews the situation shown by tacnet.
@self:The 2 on foot from the West side are out, the one in the building to the East has not been seen lately, the one that was in the Americar that Tweak rammed with van has never made an appearance. Either taken out by the ram, or was only in place to throw the stinger. The bike on the West side was wiped out by Scrapheap. Looks like the bike on the East is mostly interested in leaving, and Harley is going evasive. Scrapheap took out the gunner, but his last shot did not do much to that other piece of scrap on wheels, and it still seems to be coming.
Spring has a little cover in that doorway, and Tweak is coming back(wards) with the van after that failed ram on the Harley. Scrapheap does not have much cover from this side though.
Seeing a hint of ghostly fire from Spring's location, he wonders,
@self:What's he up to over there?
September 1, 2072 22:28; Ambushed near the Fre?dom Mall, Puyallup
Bionode: Response 4(5), Signal 2, System 4, Firewall 3; Hidden; Analyze(3), Command(1), Edit(1), Scan(1), Sniffer(3), Spoof(1), {s]Stealth(3)[/s], Shield(1), Tacsoft(2), Simrig(1)
CMT Clip: Response 1, Signal 3, System 1, Firewall 1; Hidden; SIN: Paul Brickhill (R3)
The swerve successfully cuts off the Harley, but Sprogget's elation is short lived as the chopper remains under control.
@self:Drek, now what?
Then in the good/bad news area, tacnet shows that LeO is active, and has a target lock, but that the incoming fire is going to be rather close to the monocyle. Mentally urging LeO's aim to be accurate, he watches the path almost mesmerized.
@self:The mage please, not DR!
As LeO's rounds find the Ork, Sprogget relaxes a little.
@self:Take that! A little payback for what you did to DR!
Using the opportunity to get a bit of distance from the Harley, and clearing the line of fire if LeO needs another shot, he reviews the situation shown by tacnet.
@self:The 2 on foot from the West side are out, the one in the building to the East has not been seen lately, the one that was in the Americar that Tweak rammed with van has never made an appearance. Either taken out by the ram, or was only in place to throw the stinger. The bike on the West side was wiped out by Scrapheap. Looks like the bike on the East is mostly interested in leaving, and Harley is going evasive. Scrapheap took out the gunner, but his last shot did not do much to that other piece of scrap on wheels, and it still seems to be coming.
Spring has a little cover in that doorway, and Tweak is coming back(wards) with the van after that failed ram on the Harley. Scrapheap does not have much cover from this side though.
Seeing a hint of ghostly fire from Spring's location, he wonders,
@self:What's he up to over there?
@E:PL/Chi Town/Copperhead
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; Ghoul central, CZ, Chicago]
Copperhead grunts as the heavy calibre round thunks against layers of armor. Her staff clatters to the ground as she scurries for cover.
Ugh, can't take too many hits like that.
"Need to shoot straighter dan dat if'n ya wants ta kill me, Snagglepus!"
Steel fingers reach for her Enfield, snapping off a round as the smartlink targ swings across the ghoul's torso. It was a hurried shot but she is still surprised by how off target her aim appears to be.
Ssee the truth urges a low, hissed voice.
A nearby supporting pillar gives her a modicum of cover. She focuses her senses on the spot near the ghoul that her beast spirit seems so keen on attacking, expanding her awareness beyond her physical senses.
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; Ghoul central, CZ, Chicago]
Copperhead grunts as the heavy calibre round thunks against layers of armor. Her staff clatters to the ground as she scurries for cover.
Ugh, can't take too many hits like that.
"Need to shoot straighter dan dat if'n ya wants ta kill me, Snagglepus!"
Steel fingers reach for her Enfield, snapping off a round as the smartlink targ swings across the ghoul's torso. It was a hurried shot but she is still surprised by how off target her aim appears to be.
Ssee the truth urges a low, hissed voice.
A nearby supporting pillar gives her a modicum of cover. She focuses her senses on the spot near the ghoul that her beast spirit seems so keen on attacking, expanding her awareness beyond her physical senses.
@E:Tribes, Sprogget
September 1, 2072 22:28; Ambushed near the Fre?dom Mall, Puyallup
Bionode: Response 4(5), Signal 2, System 4, Firewall 3; Hidden; Analyze(3), Command(1), Edit(1), Scan(1), Sniffer(3), Spoof(1), {s]Stealth(3)[/s], Shield(1), Tacsoft(2), Simrig(1)
CMT Clip: Response 1, Signal 3, System 1, Firewall 1; Hidden; SIN: Paul Brickhill (R3)
Deciding that the mage is still the more immediate threat to Scrapheap, the one team member still fairly much in the open, and in the path the Harley seems to be taking, Sprogget sends a quick message to the CD Owl drone.
@LeO: <<Hit that mage and Harley with a narrow full burst!>>
@self:Come on LeO, Take him out before he gets to Scrapheap, or pulls some other magicrabbitdrek out of his hatbutt.
@jailbreakers: <<Assuming this is about over, do we want to load up and leave quick? Or stick around to ask questions of any survivors, and pick up the pieces? Could send a Mechanicals team over with better tools to do the salvage, if the other scavengers don't haul it off first.>>
September 1, 2072 22:28; Ambushed near the Fre?dom Mall, Puyallup
Bionode: Response 4(5), Signal 2, System 4, Firewall 3; Hidden; Analyze(3), Command(1), Edit(1), Scan(1), Sniffer(3), Spoof(1), {s]Stealth(3)[/s], Shield(1), Tacsoft(2), Simrig(1)
CMT Clip: Response 1, Signal 3, System 1, Firewall 1; Hidden; SIN: Paul Brickhill (R3)
Deciding that the mage is still the more immediate threat to Scrapheap, the one team member still fairly much in the open, and in the path the Harley seems to be taking, Sprogget sends a quick message to the CD Owl drone.
@LeO: <<Hit that mage and Harley with a narrow full burst!>>
@self:Come on LeO, Take him out before he gets to Scrapheap, or pulls some other magic
@jailbreakers: <<Assuming this is about over, do we want to load up and leave quick? Or stick around to ask questions of any survivors, and pick up the pieces? Could send a Mechanicals team over with better tools to do the salvage, if the other scavengers don't haul it off first.>>
@EPL/Chi Town/Father Anselm
[July 6th, 2072, 12:00:00, West 23 Pl and S Wensworth Ave, CZ, Chicago]
The convoy rolled into the flattened and burnt out ruins of the old elementary school and Anselm could practically still feel the residues left from the sudden death of so many innocent lives. The whole trip into Chicago had been one of a mild headache all the way to complete migraines as the aid convoy had rolled through the desecration left in the path of the nuclear explosion and the subsequent years of abuse and Anselm figured it was only going to get worse. It didn't help that every time he felt a particular upspike in the local mana flow he kept relating it to the scene of carnage that had been all that was left of of the Tranquil Sands enclave north of Tehran. Worse still, he kept reliving the struggle with the Dweller and what might yet happen as a result of his actions and the future of the Collots and their brethren.
DeBathayre's goons had been very imposing on that job and it had been so much relief to finally get rid of their tail on the way back via Turkey. Even better that he had been there before and had known about one of the Lodge's safe-houses and had the chance to rest before heading onwards to Chicago. If the groups trackers were right then the Collots, well hopefully both but at least the young Luc from whom Anselm had borrowed the tiny stuffed animal, should be fairly close, if not already at the Blackwater Enclave.
What to do when he got there was something Anselm had not quite figured out. Ostensibly he was attached to this convoy as a medic and spiritual advisor and the convoy commander had been too short of magical help and volunteers to turn him down. He could only really claim a minor moral high ground as he had been key in fending off a few spirit attacks on the way into the CZ so at least the medicine and supplies would be going to the unfortunates in the area rather than any warlord who controlled the local turf.
That was the plan at least, though Anselm didn't give the relief agency much hope that that would actually be the case. He had been able to persuade a few of the more obstinate looking gangers at the various stops though, so perhaps a few of the supplies would actually go to those who most needed them; not to any turf wars that might be in progress over this hell-hole.
As the heavily armored citymaster and truck convoy finally ground to a stop in a circle, perhaps ironically in the old circle-the-wagons formation, Anselm moved down from his place at the observation hatch and shrugged into the lined coat he wore over his robe and under body armor. Nodding to the captain of the Merc detachment who guarded this whole affair, Anselm waited for the hatch to open and donned his respirator. His somewhat muffled thanks echoed hollowly in the bulky apparatus that still made him feel slightly claustrophobic and he quickly scuttled his way to the nearest bit of cover still left in the abandoned school.
His normal paranoia had been on such a high state the whole time that he felt finally relaxed as the guards fanned out and the relief supplies started to get unloaded; the apparently abandoned city-scape suddenly bloomed with starved, desperate looking wretches once it was clear this wasn't another euthenization squad out to clean a bit of the CZ back one body at a time. "'Scuse me.... you a church guy right?" Startled, Anselm turned around to the very intimidating sight of a young orc, probably no more than seven or eight years old toting a fairly beat up submachine gun of some kind that was pointed rather directly in his general direction.
Not wishing to disturb or spook the youth, Anselm turned so that the kid could see his white clerical collar and the front of his cossack and cross. "Yes my son. Do you need help?" The last came out somewhat pathetically as it occurred to him that that could well apply to any poor soul who had to live in this neighborhood. The orc didn't look threatening though as he slightly lowered his weapon. "Well, ma's sick and there's noone to baptize my brothers and sisters, or to...." The kid just drops off and Anselm could see tears start to well up in his eyes as this probable bread winner of the family just tried to cope with stuff he wasn't designed for at his young age. He moved closer and crouched down a few feet away, "Son, where is your mama? We'll get you some food and then I can give you the sacrament." The youngster visibly brightened and it was a testimony to the Lord's presence even in the darkest place that that promise made any sort of difference to an otherwise hardened individual living in one of the world's darkest shadows. "Oh I grok that! Thanks priestman."
Anselm returned to the convoy, youngster in tail, and approached the quartermaster who, although extremely busy at least had the curtesy to not tell him to frag off and gave him a satchel containing various supplies which he promptly slung around his frame and positioned amongst the other bags and gear on his person.
Struggling to keep up, the father moved after the now eager youth who darted off into the buildings ahead. I hope this isn't a trap. If I die this way, what a waste of potential.... if the child dies today.... what a waste of faith.
[July 6th, 2072, 12:00:00, West 23 Pl and S Wensworth Ave, CZ, Chicago]
The convoy rolled into the flattened and burnt out ruins of the old elementary school and Anselm could practically still feel the residues left from the sudden death of so many innocent lives. The whole trip into Chicago had been one of a mild headache all the way to complete migraines as the aid convoy had rolled through the desecration left in the path of the nuclear explosion and the subsequent years of abuse and Anselm figured it was only going to get worse. It didn't help that every time he felt a particular upspike in the local mana flow he kept relating it to the scene of carnage that had been all that was left of of the Tranquil Sands enclave north of Tehran. Worse still, he kept reliving the struggle with the Dweller and what might yet happen as a result of his actions and the future of the Collots and their brethren.
DeBathayre's goons had been very imposing on that job and it had been so much relief to finally get rid of their tail on the way back via Turkey. Even better that he had been there before and had known about one of the Lodge's safe-houses and had the chance to rest before heading onwards to Chicago. If the groups trackers were right then the Collots, well hopefully both but at least the young Luc from whom Anselm had borrowed the tiny stuffed animal, should be fairly close, if not already at the Blackwater Enclave.
What to do when he got there was something Anselm had not quite figured out. Ostensibly he was attached to this convoy as a medic and spiritual advisor and the convoy commander had been too short of magical help and volunteers to turn him down. He could only really claim a minor moral high ground as he had been key in fending off a few spirit attacks on the way into the CZ so at least the medicine and supplies would be going to the unfortunates in the area rather than any warlord who controlled the local turf.
That was the plan at least, though Anselm didn't give the relief agency much hope that that would actually be the case. He had been able to persuade a few of the more obstinate looking gangers at the various stops though, so perhaps a few of the supplies would actually go to those who most needed them; not to any turf wars that might be in progress over this hell-hole.
As the heavily armored citymaster and truck convoy finally ground to a stop in a circle, perhaps ironically in the old circle-the-wagons formation, Anselm moved down from his place at the observation hatch and shrugged into the lined coat he wore over his robe and under body armor. Nodding to the captain of the Merc detachment who guarded this whole affair, Anselm waited for the hatch to open and donned his respirator. His somewhat muffled thanks echoed hollowly in the bulky apparatus that still made him feel slightly claustrophobic and he quickly scuttled his way to the nearest bit of cover still left in the abandoned school.
His normal paranoia had been on such a high state the whole time that he felt finally relaxed as the guards fanned out and the relief supplies started to get unloaded; the apparently abandoned city-scape suddenly bloomed with starved, desperate looking wretches once it was clear this wasn't another euthenization squad out to clean a bit of the CZ back one body at a time. "'Scuse me.... you a church guy right?" Startled, Anselm turned around to the very intimidating sight of a young orc, probably no more than seven or eight years old toting a fairly beat up submachine gun of some kind that was pointed rather directly in his general direction.
Not wishing to disturb or spook the youth, Anselm turned so that the kid could see his white clerical collar and the front of his cossack and cross. "Yes my son. Do you need help?" The last came out somewhat pathetically as it occurred to him that that could well apply to any poor soul who had to live in this neighborhood. The orc didn't look threatening though as he slightly lowered his weapon. "Well, ma's sick and there's noone to baptize my brothers and sisters, or to...." The kid just drops off and Anselm could see tears start to well up in his eyes as this probable bread winner of the family just tried to cope with stuff he wasn't designed for at his young age. He moved closer and crouched down a few feet away, "Son, where is your mama? We'll get you some food and then I can give you the sacrament." The youngster visibly brightened and it was a testimony to the Lord's presence even in the darkest place that that promise made any sort of difference to an otherwise hardened individual living in one of the world's darkest shadows. "Oh I grok that! Thanks priestman."
Anselm returned to the convoy, youngster in tail, and approached the quartermaster who, although extremely busy at least had the curtesy to not tell him to frag off and gave him a satchel containing various supplies which he promptly slung around his frame and positioned amongst the other bags and gear on his person.
Struggling to keep up, the father moved after the now eager youth who darted off into the buildings ahead. I hope this isn't a trap. If I die this way, what a waste of potential.... if the child dies today.... what a waste of faith.
@E:PL/Chi Town/ Father Anselm
[July 8th, 2072, 22:20:14, 100 yards North of Blackwater, CZ, Chicago]
The kid had been more of an asset than he had expected, due mostly to the seemingly minor event of offering the sacrament to his mama who had not been sick but rather in child-birth, and baptizing the newborn litter. This had galvanized the young orc so much that he had offered to help Anselm any way he could. This unexpected aid was obviously heaven sent as the youth had offered to part with one of the family's spare weapons. The slightly beat up mp5 was in bad condition but the magazines of ammo the kid had given him were clean and it was obvious the youngster very much doubted the safety of a priest in the CZ without sufficient defence. Having slotted his automatics autosoft Anselm had decided to acquiesce and gave the child 800 in hard cred that he had been keeping for the times when cred would get him further than religion. The gift was received nonchalantly and Anselm realized once again that in here, things that could keep you alive were valued well above plastic cred.
Taking a chance and hoping that the Lord would help his search, Anselm had tenatively asked about the blackwater enclave; not by name of course but by the vague description that had been given him by DeBathayre before she had left him at the airport. The kid had perked up at that and offered to guide him to the place. It was clear the orc believed that the priest would help those unfortunates too and further questioning revealed that the erstwhile group of technomancers had provided some key security for his family in a time of need and he felt loyal to them as a result.
"Well, best I be about it. Thank you my son, you have been kind to this one and I am certain the Lord will keep you in his peace. You get on home to your family and Godspeed go with you." The kid scampered off and just as Anselm began to hop down from his perch he heard the unmistakable rumble of an HTA craft speeding towards him from the north; not one but two of them appeared over the horizon flying low and fast in a beeline straight towards his hiding place.
Always late to the party.... There was no mistaking their target as they performed a neat insertion above the area which he had been informed was the main entrance to Blackwater and twelve men in dark black combat fatigues fast-roped out of the first tbird. They dissappeared into the hole and within minutes he both heard and saw explosions and dark clouds of smoke and dust pour out from not one but two depressions in the ground.
The black painted craft pulled off as one sped out and took up a patrol route while the other maintained height and began gunning down the individuals now scurrying from the warren like rats from a sinking ship. The carnage was terrible and Anselm was about to end the existence of the main t-bird but hesitated as, out of the corner of his eye he saw a few shadows dart out of a nearby exit almost directly below his building. One, a troll from the looks of it, and it's apparent temperment, roughly grabbed a smaller figure who had been obviously coaching his comrades in the morale department. The troll shook the young man roughly before dropping him to the ground and urging the rest of the company to bolt off into the shadows, though only two followed.
Suddenly, the troll turned around and gestured at the youth and, even from this distance Anselm could discern the tell-tales of spellcraft as the youth reached to his face only to dodge out of the way as 3 ants, large beyond belief came racing out of the exit they had just left. Anselm quickly flung himself back into the recesses of the building and began to run down to the ground floor as quickly as he could all the while attempting to avoid the most suspect looking patches, ready at a moments notice to levitate himself to keep from falling.
When he reached the ground floor and peered out of the doorway there was no sign of the group or even the ants, though the youth who had been attacked was still groggily lying on the asphalt and seemed in no hurry to save himself.
He rushed to the young man, whos only obvious wound was a copiously bloody nose and asked, "Are you ok? What happened in there? Did the technomancers survive?"
The young man shook off Anselm's helping hand and rose unsteadily. "Leave me alone trog lover! The rest of them will die because I want to live scan?!"
So, he's probably a techno.... and he just, what? Sold them out?
Anselm wasn't sure whether to be disgusted, appalled or uneasy with the instant comparison to himself in many ways. He mentally called on the spirit of St. Alban, the patron of refugees to aid him in his search and roughly manhandled the young man back into the building. St. Alban answered and materialized in front of the belligerent pain in the ass. "My son, can you find the others? I need to know if there was a young boy and his father in there. They'd be 'mancers, like yourself, and I hope in the Lord's name you haven't hurt them. Vengeance is swift and the Lord sometimes chooses me for this work so you had better tell me everything you know."
The spirit apparently made a convincing supporting evidence as he glowered menacingly in the youth's direction and tried to influence his thoughts. Anselm couldn't tell if it was the threats or the spirits work but the boy brightened visibly. "Nah, don't know of any young kid or a father.... tons of people down there so you best go in there if you want and slot off my case neh?" The spirit punched the youth as quick as thought and the young man skidded across the concrete floor from the force of the blow. "Ok, Ok, you after 'mancers too huh? Well I can find them for you, I can do it if you let me go free. Just let me live and I'll help you."
Nursing a few obviously broken ribs the kid gingerly sat up and looked questioningly at Anselm, who nodded curtly and merely motioned for him to lead onward. "Be warned, if you betray me like you betrayed your kind. Hell will be a relief for your poor soul." Something of the steel in Anselm's eyes must have convinced the kid because he calmed down, in fact almost seeming to be pleased with himself for some obscure reason as he lead the priest back through the buildings along what the generic mapsoft (SOTA 2063) said had been North Damen Ave.
[July 8th, 2072, 22:20:14, 100 yards North of Blackwater, CZ, Chicago]
The kid had been more of an asset than he had expected, due mostly to the seemingly minor event of offering the sacrament to his mama who had not been sick but rather in child-birth, and baptizing the newborn litter. This had galvanized the young orc so much that he had offered to help Anselm any way he could. This unexpected aid was obviously heaven sent as the youth had offered to part with one of the family's spare weapons. The slightly beat up mp5 was in bad condition but the magazines of ammo the kid had given him were clean and it was obvious the youngster very much doubted the safety of a priest in the CZ without sufficient defence. Having slotted his automatics autosoft Anselm had decided to acquiesce and gave the child 800 in hard cred that he had been keeping for the times when cred would get him further than religion. The gift was received nonchalantly and Anselm realized once again that in here, things that could keep you alive were valued well above plastic cred.
Taking a chance and hoping that the Lord would help his search, Anselm had tenatively asked about the blackwater enclave; not by name of course but by the vague description that had been given him by DeBathayre before she had left him at the airport. The kid had perked up at that and offered to guide him to the place. It was clear the orc believed that the priest would help those unfortunates too and further questioning revealed that the erstwhile group of technomancers had provided some key security for his family in a time of need and he felt loyal to them as a result.
"Well, best I be about it. Thank you my son, you have been kind to this one and I am certain the Lord will keep you in his peace. You get on home to your family and Godspeed go with you." The kid scampered off and just as Anselm began to hop down from his perch he heard the unmistakable rumble of an HTA craft speeding towards him from the north; not one but two of them appeared over the horizon flying low and fast in a beeline straight towards his hiding place.
Always late to the party.... There was no mistaking their target as they performed a neat insertion above the area which he had been informed was the main entrance to Blackwater and twelve men in dark black combat fatigues fast-roped out of the first tbird. They dissappeared into the hole and within minutes he both heard and saw explosions and dark clouds of smoke and dust pour out from not one but two depressions in the ground.
The black painted craft pulled off as one sped out and took up a patrol route while the other maintained height and began gunning down the individuals now scurrying from the warren like rats from a sinking ship. The carnage was terrible and Anselm was about to end the existence of the main t-bird but hesitated as, out of the corner of his eye he saw a few shadows dart out of a nearby exit almost directly below his building. One, a troll from the looks of it, and it's apparent temperment, roughly grabbed a smaller figure who had been obviously coaching his comrades in the morale department. The troll shook the young man roughly before dropping him to the ground and urging the rest of the company to bolt off into the shadows, though only two followed.
Suddenly, the troll turned around and gestured at the youth and, even from this distance Anselm could discern the tell-tales of spellcraft as the youth reached to his face only to dodge out of the way as 3 ants, large beyond belief came racing out of the exit they had just left. Anselm quickly flung himself back into the recesses of the building and began to run down to the ground floor as quickly as he could all the while attempting to avoid the most suspect looking patches, ready at a moments notice to levitate himself to keep from falling.
When he reached the ground floor and peered out of the doorway there was no sign of the group or even the ants, though the youth who had been attacked was still groggily lying on the asphalt and seemed in no hurry to save himself.
He rushed to the young man, whos only obvious wound was a copiously bloody nose and asked, "Are you ok? What happened in there? Did the technomancers survive?"
The young man shook off Anselm's helping hand and rose unsteadily. "Leave me alone trog lover! The rest of them will die because I want to live scan?!"
So, he's probably a techno.... and he just, what? Sold them out?
Anselm wasn't sure whether to be disgusted, appalled or uneasy with the instant comparison to himself in many ways. He mentally called on the spirit of St. Alban, the patron of refugees to aid him in his search and roughly manhandled the young man back into the building. St. Alban answered and materialized in front of the belligerent pain in the ass. "My son, can you find the others? I need to know if there was a young boy and his father in there. They'd be 'mancers, like yourself, and I hope in the Lord's name you haven't hurt them. Vengeance is swift and the Lord sometimes chooses me for this work so you had better tell me everything you know."
The spirit apparently made a convincing supporting evidence as he glowered menacingly in the youth's direction and tried to influence his thoughts. Anselm couldn't tell if it was the threats or the spirits work but the boy brightened visibly. "Nah, don't know of any young kid or a father.... tons of people down there so you best go in there if you want and slot off my case neh?" The spirit punched the youth as quick as thought and the young man skidded across the concrete floor from the force of the blow. "Ok, Ok, you after 'mancers too huh? Well I can find them for you, I can do it if you let me go free. Just let me live and I'll help you."
Nursing a few obviously broken ribs the kid gingerly sat up and looked questioningly at Anselm, who nodded curtly and merely motioned for him to lead onward. "Be warned, if you betray me like you betrayed your kind. Hell will be a relief for your poor soul." Something of the steel in Anselm's eyes must have convinced the kid because he calmed down, in fact almost seeming to be pleased with himself for some obscure reason as he lead the priest back through the buildings along what the generic mapsoft (SOTA 2063) said had been North Damen Ave.
@E:PL/ Chi Town/ Father Anselm
[July 9th, 2072, 00:23:00; N Besly Ct, On top of a ruined advertisement board tower]
He had lost the traces of the technomancers that his hostage cum-guide had been leading him after, but he had decided to press north on a hunch that any sane individuals would attempt to make it to the edge of the CZ and relative safety. It seemed to have paid off as he had spotted a glimpse of gang members running into a set of buildings, obviously in pursuit of some unfortunate individual and the only people stupid enough or perhaps just not streetwise enough to get caught like that were most likely his intended quarry.
The kid had put up a big stink about trekking across the railroad tracks in Anselm's bid to keep as much of a distance between himself and any potential ambush sites as possible; complaining that it was all well and good if the priest wanted to die but why didn't he just let him go free. Only the desire to punish the kid for his betrayal and his need to attempt to track any potential signals kept him from just getting rid of the technomancer and being on his way.
Finally tiring of the walk Anselm called to the patron saint of Edmund the Martyr with the intent of having him despatching the traitor. He did not give the order however as just at that moment he heard several gunshots to the north. A quick levitate to the top of the nearest tall structure, in this case an old billboard tower complete with lack of AROs, showed sporadic weapons fire from a group of 4 individuals hunkered down in some cover close to the dilapidated bridge and a semi-familiar figure, that of the troll he had seen leave Blackwter, break off and rush towards the building complex from which sporadic gunfire was coming. Something about the way the figures attacking the smaller group moved sparked a memory in Anselm's mind and he quickly flipped his perception to the astral. Ghouls.... The bile rose in Anselm's mouth as his anger flared. The unholy and damned creatures were utterly repulsive, he had fought them before, back in the middle east about a year ago when on a mission for the Lodge and his distaste for them had not grown any less. The sight of them attacking the beleaguered party struck a chord with Anselm much like the one he had experienced watching Luc die in his minds eye when on his quest for enlightenment and he mentally commanded the spirit of Edmund the Martyr to have his vengeance on these undead heathen.
[July 9th, 2072, 00:23:00; N Besly Ct, On top of a ruined advertisement board tower]
He had lost the traces of the technomancers that his hostage cum-guide had been leading him after, but he had decided to press north on a hunch that any sane individuals would attempt to make it to the edge of the CZ and relative safety. It seemed to have paid off as he had spotted a glimpse of gang members running into a set of buildings, obviously in pursuit of some unfortunate individual and the only people stupid enough or perhaps just not streetwise enough to get caught like that were most likely his intended quarry.
The kid had put up a big stink about trekking across the railroad tracks in Anselm's bid to keep as much of a distance between himself and any potential ambush sites as possible; complaining that it was all well and good if the priest wanted to die but why didn't he just let him go free. Only the desire to punish the kid for his betrayal and his need to attempt to track any potential signals kept him from just getting rid of the technomancer and being on his way.
Finally tiring of the walk Anselm called to the patron saint of Edmund the Martyr with the intent of having him despatching the traitor. He did not give the order however as just at that moment he heard several gunshots to the north. A quick levitate to the top of the nearest tall structure, in this case an old billboard tower complete with lack of AROs, showed sporadic weapons fire from a group of 4 individuals hunkered down in some cover close to the dilapidated bridge and a semi-familiar figure, that of the troll he had seen leave Blackwter, break off and rush towards the building complex from which sporadic gunfire was coming. Something about the way the figures attacking the smaller group moved sparked a memory in Anselm's mind and he quickly flipped his perception to the astral. Ghouls.... The bile rose in Anselm's mouth as his anger flared. The unholy and damned creatures were utterly repulsive, he had fought them before, back in the middle east about a year ago when on a mission for the Lodge and his distaste for them had not grown any less. The sight of them attacking the beleaguered party struck a chord with Anselm much like the one he had experienced watching Luc die in his minds eye when on his quest for enlightenment and he mentally commanded the spirit of Edmund the Martyr to have his vengeance on these undead heathen.
@E:PL/Chi Town/Gemeaux, Mordred & Tsubaki
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; East of the river, Clybourn Ave, CZ, Chicago]
SIN: Spencer Lovett, PAN: Hidden
Mordred activates the polymers in his suit and fades from view as he closes in. <Looks like some of the locals. Ghouls.> The adept ducks behind some debris and readies his silenced pistol. There was only one chance to catch them off guard. He chances a peek to make sure their attention was focused on their intended prey, then charges, firing his weapon.
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; East of the river, Clybourn Ave, CZ, Chicago]
SIN: Spencer Lovett, PAN: Hidden
Mordred activates the polymers in his suit and fades from view as he closes in. <Looks like some of the locals. Ghouls.> The adept ducks behind some debris and readies his silenced pistol. There was only one chance to catch them off guard. He chances a peek to make sure their attention was focused on their intended prey, then charges, firing his weapon.
@E:PL/Chi Town/Gemeaux, Mordred & Tsubaki
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; East of the river, Clybourn Ave, CZ, Chicago]
PAN - Active ; SIN - Maximilien Danton
Gemeaux is still climbing up the fire escape of a ruined building when he notices that Mordred has gotten close to the ghouls. He activates his own chameleon suit and disappears from view. However, he has Vivienne send updates to his location to all of the members of his team.
<<@Group[Gemeaux]: Get closer if you like, mon ami, but I think I shall keep my distance and provide cover from afar. Let me know where exactly you are, though. I would hate to find you between my rifle and my quarry.>>
When he reaches the top, Gemeaux puts down his chameleoned smartpack, unstraps his sniper rifle, and gets ready to work. He is grateful to finally be in a familiar combat setting---several meters from prey who have no idea where he is or that he is about to start killing them. He takes aim at the closest ghoul, grins, and pulls the trigger...
[July 9th, 2072, 00:26; East of the river, Clybourn Ave, CZ, Chicago]
PAN - Active ; SIN - Maximilien Danton
Gemeaux is still climbing up the fire escape of a ruined building when he notices that Mordred has gotten close to the ghouls. He activates his own chameleon suit and disappears from view. However, he has Vivienne send updates to his location to all of the members of his team.
<<@Group[Gemeaux]: Get closer if you like, mon ami, but I think I shall keep my distance and provide cover from afar. Let me know where exactly you are, though. I would hate to find you between my rifle and my quarry.>>
When he reaches the top, Gemeaux puts down his chameleoned smartpack, unstraps his sniper rifle, and gets ready to work. He is grateful to finally be in a familiar combat setting---several meters from prey who have no idea where he is or that he is about to start killing them. He takes aim at the closest ghoul, grins, and pulls the trigger...
QUOTE (karhig @ Mar 21 2013, 03:17 PM) 
@Virtual Scream / Cat, Dubstep, Dante
[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
"Hey hot shot, eyes on the prize. Genuine rare fauna over here. No point wasting your bullets on her when there's a billion others waiting to take her place."
The restaurant falls silent at Cat's outburst and every eye turns towards her. At the far table, Skinny looks up, one hand filled with stolen tech, the pistol in the other moving in her direction. Their leader's attention and SMG move from the trembling waitress towards the elven woman and he begins to move towards their table.[September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle]
"Hey hot shot, eyes on the prize. Genuine rare fauna over here. No point wasting your bullets on her when there's a billion others waiting to take her place."
---
In the matrix, Dubstep easily breaches the firewall of the leader's comm, although part of his mind registers that it was not the Metalink's standard, crappy default. He surveys the node's standard matrix iconography and is keenly aware of the lack of icons that tend to build up in any node over time. Frag, it even smells new.
Apart from the standard commlink features, there are only two other icons in the node. The first is an old version LinkDefender's Analyze routine. The lighthouse icon's beam sweeps across him even as he examines it. But it does not pause, not this time. The second icon is an attack program in the form of a badly rendered wolf or dog. It's clearly not a powerful one, but is still probably pushing the limits of the Metalink's OS. But the simple fact that it is here means that whoever set up this link has some knowledge of matrix security. With only user access, Dubstep quickly realizes that he does not have the permissions needed to deactivate either of them and that the local admin account has been disabled. More worrying though, is the fact that the node is being remotely monitored from another device!
<<Completing transfer of first >1rtu@l5cr3@m file to your link, boss!>> chirps Cindy.
Not that she needed to tell him, he can already feel the drag on his link's response from just the one. All three are likely going to slow his link to a crawl.
---
As the ganger's leader approaches their table, the only sound is a low, nervous keening from Jenny Ho. And then there is a roar. Chunky's face, which had been getting redder and redder, is now purple with rage.
"You shut your fraggin' whore mouth, you fraggin' keeb slut!"
His hand swings back, and lashes out towards Cat's face.
@Virtual Scream / Gossamer
[September 1, 2072, 12:22, Argent's ‘link node]
PAN: N/A, SIN: None, Response *, Signal *, System (5), Firewall (4), (Analyze, Scan, Decrypt, Exploit [5, inherent], Stealth [6, inherent],Armour, Browse, Encrypt, Medic [6, ergo, optzd])
Slater makes himself comfortable on the floor next to Gossamer's pod. He folds his long legs almost into a full lotus, settles his hands on his knees and leans his head back against the wall.
A pale blue icon of a slim elf appears above his head. It is thin, almost frail-looking, with too long limbs, fingers and ears. It's surface is completely smooth with no discerning features. It reaches a hand out towards Gossamer and says in Slater's voice.
<<Come on over and let's take a look at this >1rtu@l5cr3@m squatter together.>>
His touch transfers the data she needs to create a user account on his link. It's sleek, fast, and at least as powerful as Argent's. Together the decker and the AI log into her chassis' node. It has been rebooted and reset to factory defaults but as Gossamer enters, it recognizes her and begins reconfiguring itself to her preferred settings. Default iconography gives way to grass and trees as her reality filter reasserts itself on the node.
<<@Slater, Gossamer[Cutter]: While you to do whatever cyber 'activities' you need to do. I'll go pick up your new squeeze's new body. Don't do anything stupid.>>
The latter comment seems directed more at Slater than Gossamer, but it's hard to tell from the text.
Even despite the comforting familiarity, the presence of the >1rtu@l5cr3@m icon is still disturbing. The icon takes up much of the node's interior. The human torso lies in a pool of blood that drips from the surgically precise wounds where its head and limbs should be. The skin on the chest and stomach is pulled back to reveal a cavity devoid of organs. But most disturbing is the whispers she can hear. A siren song calling her closer. Slater seems to sense her hesitation.
<<Jeez. No wonder you don't want to come back here. Sorry, no offence.>>
He turns his featureless head towards the icon and a pale blue light emanates from where his eyes should be, scanning over the surface of the grisly icon.
<<Most of it seems to be data. Let's see what we can find, neh?>>
---
[September 1, 2072, 16:42, Argent's ‘link node]
PAN: N/A, SIN: None, Response *, Signal *, System (5), Firewall (4), (Analyze, Scan, Decrypt, Exploit [5, inherent], Stealth [6, inherent],Armour, Browse, Encrypt, Medic [6, ergo, optzd])
By the time Cutter arrives back with Gossamer's new body, Slater and Gossamer have scanned through thousands of scraps of data. None of it is complete. Video clips last barely longer than a few seconds and show mostly trid footage of corp employees moving through corridors or in offices or meeting rooms. The audio files are no better, just snatches of conversation, often no more than a few words long.
Some of the data is encrypted. The few pieces they have managed to decrypt so far contain fragments of information similar to the raw data. It could take days or even weeks to go through it all, but they have had some success. By cross-referencing the fragments of information, they have managed to extract two corporate logos. One belongs to Cyberdyne Security Systems (CSS), the other to Mammoth Memory Operations (MMO), a subsidiary of CSS.
[September 1, 2072, 12:22, Argent's ‘link node]
PAN: N/A, SIN: None, Response *, Signal *, System (5), Firewall (4), (Analyze, Scan, Decrypt, Exploit [5, inherent], Stealth [6, inherent],
Slater makes himself comfortable on the floor next to Gossamer's pod. He folds his long legs almost into a full lotus, settles his hands on his knees and leans his head back against the wall.
A pale blue icon of a slim elf appears above his head. It is thin, almost frail-looking, with too long limbs, fingers and ears. It's surface is completely smooth with no discerning features. It reaches a hand out towards Gossamer and says in Slater's voice.
<<Come on over and let's take a look at this >1rtu@l5cr3@m squatter together.>>
His touch transfers the data she needs to create a user account on his link. It's sleek, fast, and at least as powerful as Argent's. Together the decker and the AI log into her chassis' node. It has been rebooted and reset to factory defaults but as Gossamer enters, it recognizes her and begins reconfiguring itself to her preferred settings. Default iconography gives way to grass and trees as her reality filter reasserts itself on the node.
<<@Slater, Gossamer[Cutter]: While you to do whatever cyber 'activities' you need to do. I'll go pick up your new squeeze's new body. Don't do anything stupid.>>
The latter comment seems directed more at Slater than Gossamer, but it's hard to tell from the text.
Even despite the comforting familiarity, the presence of the >1rtu@l5cr3@m icon is still disturbing. The icon takes up much of the node's interior. The human torso lies in a pool of blood that drips from the surgically precise wounds where its head and limbs should be. The skin on the chest and stomach is pulled back to reveal a cavity devoid of organs. But most disturbing is the whispers she can hear. A siren song calling her closer. Slater seems to sense her hesitation.
<<Jeez. No wonder you don't want to come back here. Sorry, no offence.>>
He turns his featureless head towards the icon and a pale blue light emanates from where his eyes should be, scanning over the surface of the grisly icon.
<<Most of it seems to be data. Let's see what we can find, neh?>>
---
[September 1, 2072, 16:42, Argent's ‘link node]
PAN: N/A, SIN: None, Response *, Signal *, System (5), Firewall (4), (Analyze, Scan, Decrypt, Exploit [5, inherent], Stealth [6, inherent],
By the time Cutter arrives back with Gossamer's new body, Slater and Gossamer have scanned through thousands of scraps of data. None of it is complete. Video clips last barely longer than a few seconds and show mostly trid footage of corp employees moving through corridors or in offices or meeting rooms. The audio files are no better, just snatches of conversation, often no more than a few words long.
Some of the data is encrypted. The few pieces they have managed to decrypt so far contain fragments of information similar to the raw data. It could take days or even weeks to go through it all, but they have had some success. By cross-referencing the fragments of information, they have managed to extract two corporate logos. One belongs to Cyberdyne Security Systems (CSS), the other to Mammoth Memory Operations (MMO), a subsidiary of CSS.
@Virtual Scream, Alex Bianchi
September 2, 2072, 12:44; Not quite the Barrens
Renraku Sensei: Hidden | SIN: Jimmy Delfino (Fake ID, Rating 3) (Re 2 - Sig 4 - Fi 2 - Sys 2)
Alex's comment seems to get their attention. There is a burst of whispered conversation.
"...he knows about the dwarf...I told you not ta gank him...fragger deserved it...better let him in then..."
Clearly these chumps are not university material. The first speaker clears his throat and tries to put some macho into his voice.
"Okay, I'm opening the door. No funny stuff or we shoot yer ass."
The door opens about half a meter to reveal a skinny teenager in gang leathers. They are painted the colors of the Young Guns, a teen gang that deals mainly in Novacoke and BTLs. He looks up at Alex, the laser dot of his battered light pistol playing across the ex-detective's face.
He seems not to have noticed the drone crouching eagerly at Alex's feet. Not yet, anyway.
September 2, 2072, 12:44; Not quite the Barrens
Renraku Sensei: Hidden | SIN: Jimmy Delfino (Fake ID, Rating 3) (Re 2 - Sig 4 - Fi 2 - Sys 2)
Alex's comment seems to get their attention. There is a burst of whispered conversation.
"...he knows about the dwarf...I told you not ta gank him...fragger deserved it...better let him in then..."
Clearly these chumps are not university material. The first speaker clears his throat and tries to put some macho into his voice.
"Okay, I'm opening the door. No funny stuff or we shoot yer ass."
The door opens about half a meter to reveal a skinny teenager in gang leathers. They are painted the colors of the Young Guns, a teen gang that deals mainly in Novacoke and BTLs. He looks up at Alex, the laser dot of his battered light pistol playing across the ex-detective's face.
He seems not to have noticed the drone crouching eagerly at Alex's feet. Not yet, anyway.
@Virtual Scream/Noodle House
September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle
Cat's arms come up almost reflexively to protect her face, her corporate self-defence training kicking in automatically. Her arms and leather jacket block the worst of Chunky's powerful blow, which knocks her and her chair a good meter away from the table.
---
Dubstep begins uploading data to the link's AR interface, mixing some thrash metal with a video link to some very in-your-face, nothing-left-to-the-imagination troll porn. As he does so, the beam of the lighthouse swings back across his icon. This time it does stop and he hears a noise that could be interpreted as a growl.
---
Leader cries out, "Da frag is dis?". He raises his left hand to his eyes as though trying to swat something out of the way. He barks out out, "Xbox, get dis shit offa my AR."
"Frag you! I'm workin' on it. Da redskin must be der hacker. Shoot im!" whines back Skinny/Xbox.
September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle
Cat's arms come up almost reflexively to protect her face, her corporate self-defence training kicking in automatically. Her arms and leather jacket block the worst of Chunky's powerful blow, which knocks her and her chair a good meter away from the table.
---
Dubstep begins uploading data to the link's AR interface, mixing some thrash metal with a video link to some very in-your-face, nothing-left-to-the-imagination troll porn. As he does so, the beam of the lighthouse swings back across his icon. This time it does stop and he hears a noise that could be interpreted as a growl.
---
Leader cries out, "Da frag is dis?". He raises his left hand to his eyes as though trying to swat something out of the way. He barks out out, "Xbox, get dis shit offa my AR."
"Frag you! I'm workin' on it. Da redskin must be der hacker. Shoot im!" whines back Skinny/Xbox.
@Virtual Scream, Alex Bianchi
September 2, 2072, 12:44; Not quite the Barrens
Renraku Sensei: Hidden | SIN: Jimmy Delfino (Fake ID, Rating 3) (Re 2 - Sig 4 - Fi 2 - Sys 2)
Alex raised an eyebrow after the dot finished passing over his face. "Some advice for ya? People doing 'funny stuff' don't knock, they just come through the doors and windows while you're weighing bags of snow. Which is why I'm here in the first place."
The detective inclined his head at the room behind the ganger. "So, you gonna let me in, or are we just going to stand here eyeballin' one another? 'Cause I can just come back after the SWAT team rolls through and cacks your stupid asses for icing a friend of theirs."
Alex shrugged. "Choice is yours, but you ain't got a lotta time to decide."
September 2, 2072, 12:44; Not quite the Barrens
Renraku Sensei: Hidden | SIN: Jimmy Delfino (Fake ID, Rating 3) (Re 2 - Sig 4 - Fi 2 - Sys 2)
Alex raised an eyebrow after the dot finished passing over his face. "Some advice for ya? People doing 'funny stuff' don't knock, they just come through the doors and windows while you're weighing bags of snow. Which is why I'm here in the first place."
The detective inclined his head at the room behind the ganger. "So, you gonna let me in, or are we just going to stand here eyeballin' one another? 'Cause I can just come back after the SWAT team rolls through and cacks your stupid asses for icing a friend of theirs."
Alex shrugged. "Choice is yours, but you ain't got a lotta time to decide."
@Virtual Scream/Noodle House
September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle
Dante is surprised, and if truth be told, pleased at what an efficient distraction his two teammates have provided. Sure there were still three guys to take down, and sure it would still be all up to Dante, but it was going to be much less difficult because of Cat and Dubstep. He could like working with them.
<<@Cat, Dubstep [Dante] : Please stay low now>>
He reached out a hand to the momentarily-blinded porcine form standing over Cat and accessed his magnetic system, setting it for overload. He hadn't had good roast pork since Beijing, they got the flavors all wrong here. You want something done right, you do it yourself.
September 2, 2072, 13:19, Hai Fuk Noodle House, Redmond Barrens, Seattle
Dante is surprised, and if truth be told, pleased at what an efficient distraction his two teammates have provided. Sure there were still three guys to take down, and sure it would still be all up to Dante, but it was going to be much less difficult because of Cat and Dubstep. He could like working with them.
<<@Cat, Dubstep [Dante] : Please stay low now>>
He reached out a hand to the momentarily-blinded porcine form standing over Cat and accessed his magnetic system, setting it for overload. He hadn't had good roast pork since Beijing, they got the flavors all wrong here. You want something done right, you do it yourself.
@E:CoP/Johnny Awesome
[August 20th, 2072, 22:05; NeoNet Tower, Oxford]
"I think I'll work the room if you don't mind. I'll come and find you again later though for a night cap, when it's dying down." He gives Ryl a brief hug and a kiss on the cheek and sets off back into the party. He looks for Maggard, finding him in a corner silently watching the room, and leans next to him. He's found a spot with a perfect view of the floor. He always did. "Anything interesting going down Mag?"
Maggard didn't talk. He never did. But he silently beamed several photos to Johnny which now filled his AR. They were just people meeting people, but it was always handy to know who was talking to who. There was one of a man handing something to a waiter, another of a woman looking uncomfortable. You'd be hard pressed to do anything in the room and not have him capture it. There were several trid clips of his own exchange with Ryl too. He may want to watch them back later and see if there was anything he missed. He disliked watching himself. He could tell that he was slick, smooth, but to him it always seemed fake. Maybe because he knew it was. He'd overanalyze his own performance later. Now was the time for checking out the other snippets Mag had sent to him.
[August 20th, 2072, 22:05; NeoNet Tower, Oxford]
"I think I'll work the room if you don't mind. I'll come and find you again later though for a night cap, when it's dying down." He gives Ryl a brief hug and a kiss on the cheek and sets off back into the party. He looks for Maggard, finding him in a corner silently watching the room, and leans next to him. He's found a spot with a perfect view of the floor. He always did. "Anything interesting going down Mag?"
Maggard didn't talk. He never did. But he silently beamed several photos to Johnny which now filled his AR. They were just people meeting people, but it was always handy to know who was talking to who. There was one of a man handing something to a waiter, another of a woman looking uncomfortable. You'd be hard pressed to do anything in the room and not have him capture it. There were several trid clips of his own exchange with Ryl too. He may want to watch them back later and see if there was anything he missed. He disliked watching himself. He could tell that he was slick, smooth, but to him it always seemed fake. Maybe because he knew it was. He'd overanalyze his own performance later. Now was the time for checking out the other snippets Mag had sent to him.
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