@Seth, Ember & Copperhead
[April 15th 2072; 22:02:00 White Van on Downtown roads, Seattle]

Before driving off, Demon snaps his commlink in two and drops the pieces down a storm drain. So much for the "new and improved firewall" that tech-head installed. I have half a mind to pay him a visit and gently ask for a refund. Resigned to shopping for a new---and hopefully more hack-resistant---phone and content that Seattle's rainy days will wash away the debris, he hops back into the van and drives off---but not before rolling down the broken window. No need to call any more unnecessary attention to themselves tonight.

As he drives, he listens to Ember and Copperhead. He nods in agreement with Ember regarding Allanby's involvement. The entire ballet de bataille reeked of circumstantial evidence---much like the dwarf's dreadfully bourgeois cigars. Knight Errant was the same security company that the dwarf had called on them back in his lair. He surrounded himself with an impressive array of surveillance tech, and had all the tell-tale syptoms of a data-junkie---he had been poring over it on his terminal when they first came in and then later pointedly boasted that he was recording everything he said to them. Finally, he was playing the part of the mastermind while residing in a hideout so well sequestered from prying eyes that it would make even the most severely, abnormally, ludicrously paranoid person feel safe.

Of course, it could be that the evidence was a little too well put together and Allanby had a perfectly good reason to take refuge from the barrage of constant death threats. If someone is indeed trying to kill the dwarf, he or she would know that laying all of this evidence in front of them would undoubtedly send the group immediately after Allanby with dreams of guillotines and bouncing dwarf heads dancing in their heads. Nevertheless, Demon shrugs at this possibility. Regardless of who is responsible for setting up this little fracas, finding and viciously questioning Allanby was the only option readily available.

Besides, he still sort of wanted to make the smug little sac de merde squirm.

When Ember mentions retiring their noms d'ombre, Demon chuckles softly.

"Mon ami, if anything, I am about to have it tattooed across my breast! You cannot buy this sort of publicity! Ah, it reminds me of my first run in Marseilles. Besides, I suspect this will be but a mere minute of fame, so long as we don't keep stumbling upon sorciers toxiques and their leche-bottes, we should soon fade back into the secure and anonymous embrace of the shadows within a week or two."

"If you do not mind, I must make a stop before we rendezvous once more. I appear to be shamefully under-dressed for whatever soiree you have invited us to, and I would prefer to wear the appropriate attire should we cross paths with another...evenement malheureux."

@Jamie, Jotamon & Doza
[April 15th, 2072 10:47am; Dearborn, Downtown Seattle]
[Internal PAN=Passive. Id = <Information not available>]

Jamie slides down into the floorboards of her now disabled car. I need to shut down that drone.

She expands her AR into the completeness of her perception causing Paraku to manifest into VR. Paraku's mistform dragon spreads wisps of her icon out through Jamie's internal commlink listening for quiet signals nearby.

@Seth, Ember & Demon
[April 15th 2072; 22:02:00 White Van on Downtown roads, Seattle]


Copperhead struggles to follow the Frenchman. He seems to be talking about the toxic shaman and if anything he seems overdressed, not under-dressed. Then it hits her, his outfit is smart but not heavily armored. And he probably wants to get something with more firepower than the heavy pistol which seems to be his only weapon at the moment.

"Uh, sure" she mumbles. "Jus' avoid any gang colors that might be on bad terms wid da Crush'. I'll see if I can get any help from Snake while you change into somefing more appropriate fer da occasion."

She settles herself down next to Ember in the back of the van. She hums and sways as she opens herself to the astral. Ember's body is an empty shell, darker even than Demon's cybered form. She hears Snake's hissing voice. The Serpent is eager to find out Allenby's secrets.

I am in danger, wise one. Please send me a spirit to aid me against those who make these false claims against me.

She floats in the astral for what seems like a long time waiting for an answer but in the end all she gets is a mild headache.

Snake can be a sulky bitch she thinks as she rubs her temples to ease the pain.

April 15th, 2072 10:50am; Dearborn; Downtown Seattle
[Pan=Hidden. Id = <Information not available>]

Arggh! its all going horribly wrong. Drones. Snipers. Vans. Men in Black with military weapons. I am not shopping in the barrens again. "Go to touristville" they said. "It's safe during the day" they said.... I'm going to kneecap "they". Jotamon paused in his flow of thoughts, and checked his head up displays. Right Jamie had lived up to his expectations and taken out the final rider. It looked like Doza was here, so the van was covered. If it wasn't for the drone everything would be OK.

Weapons assessment. Taser range 30m or a heavy pistol was unlikely to take out a sniper drone, even in his hands. OK time to be sneaky.

Jotamon rolled underneath the lorry carrying plastic pipes into Downtown, to hide from the drone.

Jotamon's icon of a suited handsome man pulled out a tricorder and began to scan. Aha there it was, luck was with Jotamon and the drone was right where he started looking. Jotamon looked at the flows of information going to the drone, then reaching into the information flow he inserted some targeting orders:

<<Engage target designated Beta 1. Coordinates at location 23,56,12>>

that should occupy the van, and maybe take out the rigger

@Jamie, Jotamon & Doza
[April 15th, 2072 10:47am; Dearborn, Downtown Seattle]

Doza was just about to line a shot on the surveillance drone when her 'Mr Johnson' pings another message.

<<Get the package and go North, make your way through the buildings to avoid aerial pursuit. There’s a Global Couriers vehicle waiting for you on S Weller St – Location Marked – distance approx. 200m>>

She considers the various options and exit routes, while forwarding the message to Jotamon. With the unmistakable sound of heavy gun fire the Jackrabbit containing the boy and Jamie is turned into so much scrap.

"Drek, where the frag did that come from?!"

Ducking round the van she lines the new drone in her sights and lets loose two narrow bursts, hoping the concentrated fire will pierce its armour and do some damage.

"Time not to be here" she thinks as she breaks cover and heads, zigzagging, towards the smoking Jackrabbit, checking the drone as she does so to see if it's still a threat.

[April 15th 2072; 22:02:00 White Van on Downtown roads, Seattle]

Upon hearing Copperhead's concern over potential color choices, he flashes her a reassuring grin.

"Mon cherie, I wouldn't dream of drawing any more unwanted attention, and I assure you I will do what I can to dispatch of any of these 'Crush' villains should we cross them. As for colors, I'm thinking black or something that blends into the background would be an appropriate choice of clothes." He has done what he can to keep from slipping any French into his speech with Copperhead around, but some old habits die hard. This time, he does a bit better.

When Copperhead slips into the back, he glances up at his rear view mirror to sneak a peek at what his companions are doing. He sees what looks to be Ember sleeping and Copperhead doing a little dance. Sorciers, he thinks to himself, right before thinking how nice it would be to have a cigarette right about now...

@Seth, Demon, Copperhead, Ember
[April 15th 2072; 22:00:00 Pixel's Pad in Tarislar, Seattle]

Pixel snuggles up in her favorite chair, her slim frame engulfed by the well-padded toddler's seat. Knees pulled up to cradle a fresh thimble of sweet rose tea, she flips back through the data she's gathered so far for Edgar and Hansai in the AR data sphere floating around her. From her perch on the 3rd shelf in her room she keeps the trid playing quietly in the corner of her vision, it's images floating in the middle space between the various racks and shelves that comprise the 'rooms' of her apartment.

Ok, this job is looking a bit rough. Teague's a real shark. He's been working his way up fast and seems to think this 'band' (if you can call them that, never did like that style) is his ticket up another notch. His little goonies are a motley bunch with a couple stand-outs. Not real sure on this razorgirl, but that spider's got a mean streak.

Elyssia's eyes twinge for a moment remembering the headache she just got a couple hours ago from that twirp. Gotta remember to lay off the VR around that yokel. Hit him from AR and his favorite toys'll be mostly pointless. Still, I don't think I'd like to go toe-to-toe with him if I can avoid it.

She sighs and takes a sip of her tea. The sweet liquid's warmth spreads pleasantly, soothing the last aches from her earlier encounter.

Don't know exactly what he was up to in Allanby's, but probably no good. The little dwarf does like to record everything off-line. Maybe that old hardline is still working well enough to get me into his nexus for a peek. Might give me an idea what 'emm' was up to.

Files and notes flip past in the AR display. Known accomplices, favored tactics, suspicions... and the initial probing results on Teague's home node. The place was a glacier. Pixel's face crunched up in a scowl of deep consideration. I could get in there... and if I go in AR I should be fine, personally. But some of those telltales look like IC indicators for some crap that could still fry out my 'link. If I have to replace the hardware on that, it'd knock this job ridiculously past the red. I dunno, maybe they've got the budget to cover it as an 'investigative expense'...

Her musings were cut short when the trid station burst in with a breaking news announcement. The AR sphere retracts from around her head as she focuses in on the trid projection. The talking head moves to the side as scenes of the intense shootout with two full firewatch teams flashes across the trid. Officers maimed or killed by frags, bullets, or spells flick across the news. Then a familiar face flashes onto the screen, and the thimble falls from between Pixel's hands, clattering to the floor three shelves down.

"No. Can't be. No no NO", she anxiously queries the data from the news feed. "Edgar, you better be faking this you piece of drek." A frantic AR shuffle pulls up concurrent feeds from several other news hubs about the ongoing action with one after another rehashing the same story.

Her 'link pings with a new message:

Oh Edgar... you big dummy. Why'd you have to go and leave Holly and the kids alone like that? A wet drop splashes on her hand and she starts a bit, reaching a shaking hand up to brush the tears from her eyes. A little sniffle drifts through the room. Then the hollow weight turns to hot iron and a grim look crosses the pixie's petite face.

<<@Hansai: I know the place. I'll be there. Though I'd feel much better if you met up with Beanie a bit ahead of time to pick up Plum for this little meet. She's better equipped then some shelf-stuffer to handle any interferance. Don't worry, we'll get to the bottom of this. I'm attaching the basic infodump on our Teague friend as well. If he's in this, keep a special eye for little miss cutsie-killer arm candy.

Be careful. I don't want my friends list getting any shorter, you hear me?

...

And, have you heard from Holly yet? I'd hate for the poor dear to learn about this from the news feeds. I dunno what she's going to tell Dot and Robby.>>

@Ember, Copperhead, Pixel & Demon
[April 15th 2072; 22:50:00 The Drunken Drone]

Ember, Demon and Copperhard make their way to the Drunken Drone. As they approach they see the 10 foot high concrete walls with embedded glass and razor wire. Faded signs read "Trespassers will be Eaten" with crude images of a robotic dog. The main gate is open, and behind it is a truck yard with 20 lorries parked in it. A couple of people emerge from the cafe, one punches the other on the shoulder, and they laugh and head for one of the cabs. A scene of blue collar bliss.

As they enter the doors to the cafe / bar, a wall of sound greets them. Laughter. Oohs and Ahhs. The Drunken Drone is split into two halves: a cafeteria area, and a bar. In the cafe the seats are mostly benches with a vinyl backing, there is only one customer in the cafe area: a man wearing heavy working clothes, with a katana on the seat next to him, and a large 'Barney the Dinosaur' toy sitting on the table. He is picking at a huge all day breakfast. The bar area however is heaving. Several scantily clad waitresses, two or three of them just wearing lingerie are carrying large trays with pitchers of beer. A stripper and comedian are working the crowd, and are beginning to start a routine involving a bullwhip, babyoil, a lit candle and a volunteer from the audience.

Over the entrance to the bar is a sign "Molly doesn't approve of drinking and driving. She really means this!". The Cafe is self service, and there is a tough looking dwarven matron sitting at the till with a name tag that reads 'Molly'. The Matron stands "Hansai said you would be coming, and there might be trouble. If there is trouble you do as you are told: I'll tell you where to go and what to do. The boys are keeping an eye out for you" Her hard gaze softened a bit as she glanced at the solitary eater. "Go have your secret meeting. No one will hear you".

The man eating the breakfast looks up and gestures you to take a seat. As you settle down everything goes faded and quiet as sophisticated sound cancelling hardware kicks in.

"Let me introduce everyone. I am Hansai Jones. I am a Knight Errant employee, working for the Accounting department, investigating suspected Cartels in the music industry. My client is Zurich Orbital, and they are very interested in this case. I am currently on leave, as my partner has just been murdered. You" he points at Ember "are the purported ring leader of a group of runners suspected of murdering my partner, colluding with the famous Toxic Terrorist Gamma, and general ne'er do well. This " he points "is Copperhead, a Snake Shaman of dubious reputation, rumored of being involved in three Doc Wagon raids, two Homicides and numerous Assaults and Batteries. Now we have Mr Demon. A gunner for hire, with a long list of suspected homicides. This " he gestures at the toy "is Pixel. She is the finest hacker you are likely to meet". He tosses three expensive looking commlinks onto the table. "These are secured, decoyed, encrypted, ICed and slaved to her."

"You probably don't know Mr Ember, but your wife has been working for my partner intermittently for years. He had the highest respect for her professionally. Her latest assignment was to provide resources to investigate Mr Jonathon Teague. The details are in the commlink. I think one of the runners she employed found something, and reported to her. Hence the accident. I think that Teague is taking out everyone that might have found that 'something'. He is very cautious about powerful individuals, so I think he tried to employee Knight Errant as patsies. I suspect that he is currently traumatized by Gamma turning up at your lynching " it is very clear that Hansai was not very impressed with the idea of 'shot while trying to escape'.

"I think you are very short on options. Knight Errant will find you if you stay anywhere in the civilized world. The reward for you alive or dead is now 500,000 nuyen for Ember, and 200,000 for the other two. Even your closest friends will be tempted by that kind of money. A task force of a thousand officers is forming, and Knight Errant are very good at what they do. As I see it you have to run to an unpleasant part of the world, or deal with Teague."

"I have two plans for dealing with Mr Teague: Pixel here found that Allanby uses a very old fashioned black fibre technique to send everything he records to a warehouse in Tacoma Heights. There may be unhacked images there. While you deal with the Warehouse, I am going to visit the Allanby crime scene. I need to get Pixel access to Allanby's personal computer which isn't wireless." He pushes the all day breakfast away, having only picked at it. "Molly here was a friend of Edgars, knows who you are and I think you can trust her. Any questions...no let me rephrase that...Any questions to which I might know the answers?"

@Seth, Ember, Pixel & Demon
[April 15th 2072; 22:50:00 The Drunken Drone]

Copperhead's stomach rumbles as she enters the cafe. She nods at the woman's instructions and then asks, "Firefights give me da munchies Molly. Any chance of gettin one of dem breakfasts and da biggest soykaf you can serve while we talks to Mr J. over dere. Best serve one up for each of ma buddies here too. I think it's gonna be a long night."

She then follows Demon and Ember to the table and squeezes in beside them. She nods an acknowledgement to the man sitting there. While he does the talking, she carefully gives him the once over on the astral from behind her shades.

At one point she opens her mouth to object but snaps it shut as she realises he has rather accurately described her brief shadowrunning career for Mr O. She attempts to recover her composure by blurting out an indignant, "We was set up. We didn't kill da dwarf even if da little fragger deserved it."

When Hansai mentions the bounty on her head she visibly pales. 200k! Frag, I'd almost turn myself in for that except I don't think I'd live to spend it. My Cutter wouldn't turn me in and neither would that knife-ears Slater. He still owes me for pulling his skinny ass out of that building. But for that amount of cash, half the Crush' would shoot me down and hand me over without blinking.

She scoops up one of the commlinks to cover her unease. It's an expensive model, much better than the disposable 'link Slater had set up for her. She turns the latter off and pockets it, then slips the shiny new one into place behind her ear. She is pleasantly surprised to find it automatically identifying her gear and slaving it all to itself. The hacker in the toy was pretty slick.

Whether she liked it or not, she was playing in the big leagues now. And there are secrets to be discoverd here! whispers her mentor's dry voice eagerly in her head.

She almost laughs when Mr J. explains that he wants them to break into Allenby's warehouse while a thousand cops and likely the same number, or even more, of street punks and worse were hunting for them. She takes off her shades and gives Mr. J her best shadowrunner look, one eyebrow crooked just like on the trids.

"So all we's gotta do is take 'Barney' here to visit Mr Allenby's little data haven without da cops or half da Barrens killin us on da way dere? And in return you'll help us clear our names? What's ta say we aint walking into a trap?"

@Jamie, Jotamon & Doza
[April 15th, 2072 10:47am; Dearborn, Downtown Seattle]

Doza

The range is long and the visibility hardly ideal as you fire after the rapidly banking drone. The rain flurry has appeared out of the overcast sky, this is Seattle, but you are sure some of your rounds impacted on the flank of the drone. Sadly the thing doesn’t plummet out of the sky so you would guess that above that cloud cover, which is playing merry hell with your thermal vision, it is coming back momentarily…

As you race towards the jackrabbit you see the last biker trying to crawl behind a car, clutching at his kidneys and loading a new clip into his chattergun. Inside the jackrabbit you can make out your package waking up in the back seat and a female in the driver’s seat with a light pistol waving in your general direction

Jamie

Time begins to crawl as your agent sifts back along the data trail from the drone. Any moment now you expect another high velocity round to power in your direction…once you have that information the bloody thing is yours to control…you hope…

<<Trace initiated. ETA to signal intercept 20 seconds. 10 seconds. Signal location traced. Access ID [$$76-8##-9Z$$]>>

Well that isn’t anywhere local. A triangulation reference puts that downtown still but somewhere north west of here on the banks of the Sound…

Jotamon

Wincing at the increasing heat from the westwind blaze you throw your data package at the drone and are mildly surprised when you are sucked into a data redirect – bloody thing must be slaved to a commlink. The matrix blurs before your vision and then you are looking in to some sort of virtual command centre with a multi armed figure dancing at the controls. Video banks are clearly displaying the incoming vid feeds from the drone and some sort of lower flying aerial vehicle, a chopper perhaps…your guess is confirmed by another view of an inside shot that shows a squad of dark clad figures running final checks on a variety of lethal looking ordinance.

The node location is clearly not that of the rigger a few meters away from you which means this op is being undertaken by yet another group – just how big is this thing you’ve stumbled into? You only wanted a spot of shopping…

@Ember, Copperhead, Pixel & Demon
[April 15th 2072; 22:51:00 The Drunken Drone]

"I understand your reticence Copperhead. Pixel just found the data on the warehouse, and I don't know whether Mr Teague is aware of it or not. I also don't know if Knight Errant will get the data either. I suspect that Pixel is significantly better than any hacker employed by Knight Errant. But, and it's a big but, Knight Errant will throw resources at this problem and it is only a matter of time before they investigate it."

"If Mr Teague is aware of the warehouse I suspect that he will seek to rob and or destroy it. He may set a trap for you, but I think dealing with such traps is part of your professions."

"You may be assured that I am not setting a trap for you. If I wished you dead, then I would deal with you now. Perhaps I have a scheme so twisted and Machiavellian that it requires you to be at this warehouse. As an example perhaps I am working with Mr Teague. In most scenarios that I can compose your employer's wife would now be dead, and a FireWatch team would be charging through that door. I am showing a great deal of trust in you, sitting at the same table with you. While I am fast with a sword, there are three of you, your employer has a powerful allied spirit, and I think it very likely that you could kill me."

You are correct that 'the cops and half the barrens' are looking for you. I will not oppose any action you take. If you want to leave Seattle, Molly here can probably help you. There are a dozen truckers " he points at the bar where the entertainment just got more raucous " that will help you leave. If you leave you will be some of the hottest criminals on the planet, and I suspect your savings won't actually get you very far. I think a far better option is to try and get Teague."

"I am not blackmailing you here. There is no 'go do this or I'll put you in jail'. Instead I am offering you a chance to get the evidence on the person that fitted you up. I would, and indeed will if you don't, go myself. I came here to satisfy myself that you were not Edgar's killers. I have done so. I think the best use of my time now is to go to the Allanby crime scene and see what I can pick up there. I need to provide Pixel with access to Allanby's computer. I cannot be in both places at once, and time is getting very tight."

@ Seth
April 15, 22:00, Auburn Seattle
Dealer checks his link, checks his last credstick, and checks how many days its been since the Vory came calling for last month's interest payment.

Even from the brief description, the job sounds dumb. Real dumb. And it doesn't take a genius to figure out something this urgent, this fast, and with that kind of promise on it probably has something to do with the streaming feed of a burning hotel and dead firewatch. Plus, if that true, there's mages involved. God damn mages.

In contrast, when the people who happen to make up the majority of your contacts in Seattle, who brought you here in the first place, and who you owe a good chunk of money state in no uncertain terms that they would like you to look into this one if you want to work again this month...which coincidentally is how long you have until your next payment...sometimes you just need to listen. Esepcially with whats being offered.

Dealer sighs, snaps his link shut, brings out his throw-away link, and changes into his Actioneer Business Best. If your going to a meet for a suicidal run, you might as well look professional. It helps hide that sinking desperation. It also helps hide some sensors, the passive link, a Morrisey Elan, and a Predator IV among other things...

A mile walk, and "Jake Edwards" is heading to the Drunken Drone in a cab.

@Ember, Copperhead, Seth, Dealer & Demon
[April 15th 2072; 22:52:00 The Drunken Drone]

Barney's head tilts a bit awkwardly to look at Copperhead. It's mouth gapes open like it's about to sing how much it loves you, but instead a little girly voice pipes up, "You needn't worry about taking 'Barney' anywhere. Those commlinks will suffice. Nice trodes by the way, very stylish. Useful too."

From her perch atop a lightpost across the street from the Drunken Drone, Pixel manipulates her AR datasphere to incorporate the new commlinks with guest-level access (ie: basically nothing she doesn't specify). Carefully she plugs them into her tacsoft, although presently limiting them to each-others datafeeds, keeping her drones seperate. Hansai seemed convinced, but Pixel wasn't quite there yet. That's why she was sitting out here in her ruthenium armor and cloaked in magical mis-direction. Sometimes it pays to be a little paranoid around people worth nearly a million nuyen in bounties.

A new icon pops up in AR for those accessing the fresh commlinks. It flits around briefly, looking like a little fairy. A wave of the wand and a glowing "Welcome to TacNet" marquee scrolls across. Then the fairy icon fades from sight.

Her tummy growls a little bit.

<<@Hansai: Want any physical backup for Allanby's? Oh, and I don't suppose you could pick me up a slice of Molly's pie while you're in there? Her pecan is delightful! ^_^ (Just drop it in Beanie if you don't mind)>>

@Jamie, Jotamon & Doza
[April 15th, 2072 10:47am; Dearborn, Downtown Seattle]
[Internal PAN=Passive. Id = <Information not available>]

This must be the drone's master node. Great, time to forestall an ammo detonation. Paraku spins out wisps of her icon toward the drone control interface trying to trigger it to dump it's ammo load.

@Ember, Copperhead, Pixel & Demon
[April 15th 2072; 22:51:00 The Drunken Drone]

Molly comes over to the table bearing a huge tray with three large all day breakfasts. Omelette, croissants and fruit for Demon and Ember, and a huge Breakfast in a Bun for Copperhead. "There you are dears." She puts her hands on her hips. Although only 4 feet tall, Molly looked to be about 4 feet wide, and now most of it seemed to be muscle. "Hansai, you need to eat that. You're going to need it. Mary-Sue just started speaking in tongues, and there's trouble. " Molly frowned. "Let me get a look at you Dearie" she appraises Demon. "I was going to send a couple of the boys with you, but I think one will do. He'll be here in a minute. Names Dealer. He owes me, so there won't be any trouble"

The roar of laughter from the crowd was suddenly loud enough that even the sophisticated sound suppression hardware struggled. Glancing that way you see that the stripper is half way through a white knuckle ride through every obscenity law in the country.

"Pixel, little one, can you do me a favor and help Bob Tanner, his scanner's are down and he was covering the SE quadrant?" she smiles "And the pecan pie is on its way"

"I think you guy's need to tool up, trouble is a-coming and you are dressed for a night out on the town. Finish your little chat, and I'll take you out back."

<<[Hansai to Pixel] Looks like Molly has the pie covered. No I have 'done my thing' and these aren't the perpetrators I'm after. Molly got me a remote access widget so when I get to Allanby's computer I can just stick it in and you'll have access. How long do you think you will need?>>

April 15th, 2072 10:51am; Dearborn; Downtown Seattle
[Pan=Hidden. Id = <Information not available>. Stealth 6. Analyse 6. Armour 6. Biofeedback 6, Reality Filter 6, Encrypt 6, Firewall 6, System 6]

Jotamon tweaked the settings on his ware and reduced the sensitivity of his sim module. Hot sim was not his friend when hacking such a serious military establishment. Well the most important thing was information, and he had that. Drek this is a serious op, what is so important about this kid. Well everything I told Jamie is still true, so there are only a few ways out of this, and lollygagging isn't one of them

<<[Encrypted message to Jamie and Doza] I'm hacking the drone right now. It looks like this is a military op, and there is copter on the way with hard men and guns. We need another vehicle, and we need it fast. >>

@ Seth, Ember, Copperhead, Pixel & Dealer
[April 15th 2072; 22:51:00 The Drunken Drone]

When Demon hears about the bounty prices, his lips purse in a slight pout. Mon dieu, only 200,000 nuyen? Why, even Ember is worth 500,000. What a disappointment, next time I must surely do more... However, his mood changes once he spies---and more importantly, smells the food. He remembers that he has not eaten in hours, and his stomach begins to sing in harmony with Copperhead's---albeit at a much more hushed and humble tone.

"Vous remercie, ma belle jeune fille. This smells delightful." He gently takes Molly's hand and kisses it delicately before taking a ravenous bite out of his croissant. When he notices Molly eyeing him, he raises an eyebrow coyly before realizing that she is merely evaluating him as a guerrier. He gives a joking and over-exaggerated look of disappointment when Molly suggests that he is not "man enough" to handle the job on his own.

Turning his attention back to Hansai---and giving a wary glance at the talking toy---he gives the cop his most reassuring smile.

"Monsieur Jones, I am more than happy to go along with your plan. While I appreciate the free celebrite, I would prefer to clear up this business of me being Gamma's leche-bottes. I mean, I may walk on the darker side of life, but a gentleman must have standards!"

@ Seth, Demon, Copperhead, Pixel & Dealer
[April 15th 2072; 22:51:00 The Drunken Drone]

Ember frowned at the food and then ignored it, there were more pressing things on his mind.

“This is no choice at all, I know it is an outmoded concept but the demands of honour must be met. Monsieur Teague needs to understand that despite our position on the edge of society we cannot be used in this manner without expecting retribution. I have always disliked the concept of disposable humanity, and whilst I suspect he does not feel the same way, he must answer for this.

We will go to this warehouse to uncover this technological evidence. Then, provided you have no objection, we will go after Teague. We will do our best to ensure he is alive to face your own justice once he has answered to the shadows.”

Ember looked up sharply at the mention of incoming trouble…

“This batard is persistent, non?”

Rising from the table he swept his coat aside and took an engraved rod from a pocket in the lining. Giving it a peculiar flick it extended out to some two meters in length. As he gathered mana to himself flares of energy flickered through his hair and from his eyes. The staff dimly showed the glowing outline of an ornate spearhead that caused a vague heat haze...

@ Seth, Ember, Copperhead, Demon & Pixel
[April 15, 2072 22:50 The Drunken Drone]

Dealer steps out of the cab and scans his cred stick before grabbing a duffel from the back seat just in time to avoid getting his fingers amputated. Piece of drek - get baggage first, THEN pay. He takes a quick moment to survey his surroundings before walking through the front gate and past the loitering truckers. Loitering being defined as anything between "Getting ready to leave" and "passing out when they realize they can't get their cab door open." Molly really does take that drinking and driving thing seriously.

After pausing for a moment to appreciate just how complicated that trick with the pitcher of beer, three chairs, and a construction glove must be to actually work instead of just end up with a soaked floor, he heads towards Molly.

"Zhukaf sends his regards. I guess that means your both back to business as usual. Actually, he sends me here with a job description. I'm guessing the four people sitting alone, not watching the show, and talking to the purple dinosaur are the people I'm looking for. Which is interesting cause Zhukov said there'd be 4 others. One of those is the Mr. J, and the other three...drek it IS about that hotel isn't it? Now I really want to know where the 4th is. Good thing I brought the bag. "

After a few more words with Molly , Dealer makes a circuitous tour of the cafe, a final trouble check, before approaching the table...

@Jamie, Jotamon & Doza
April 15th, 2072 10:51am; Dearborn; Downtown Seattle
[Pan=Hidden. Id = <Information not available>. Analyze 5, Stealth 5, Exploit - Mute 5, Sniffer 3, Agent 4

Hmmm, two weapons. Sniper rifle or Minigun. Both bad.

Paraku is momentarily distracted as Jotomon's call comes in. I should have forwarded the hacked signal I to him.

<<[Message to Jotomon and Doza], I'm in the drone as well. I'm trying to dump the sniper rifle's ammo load. If you could handle the mingun, that should give us the opening we need to get out of here.>>

@Ember, Copperhead, Pixel & Demon
[April 15th 2072; 22:52:00 The Drunken Drone]

"Dealer this is Copperhead, Ember and Demon" she gestures to each in turn. "The toys run by Pixel". There is a glare. "I want you to be real polite to Pixel...you hear?. Finally this is Mr Hansai Jones, an accountant working for Knight Errant. Mr Hansai is real folk" she stressed the words, " and you can trust him. Now I don't know the details of what's happening, and I don't wanna know, but a good friend of mine is dead, and some of these folks are being blamed for it, and I trust " she looked carefully at Hansai, who sat inscrutably toying with his breakfast, "that you are going to do something about the real killer".

"Now I'm going to leave you folks to plan. If you need tooling up, just come and ask. "

April 15th, 2072 10:51am; Dearborn; Downtown Seattle
[Pan=Hidden. Id = <Information not available>. Stealth 6. Analyse 6. Armour 6. Biofeedback 6, Reality Filter 6, Encrypt 6, Firewall 6, System 6]

<<[Encrypted message to Jamie and Doza] Awesome! OK I am on it>>

Saying that Jotamon issued a command to the drone to dump ammo.

April 15th, 2072 10:51am; Dearborn; Downtown Seattle

Doza swears under her breath as her bullets bounce off the drone.
"Not really a surprise it's as armoured as it is armed" she thinks "but worth a shot even so" she winces mentally at the unintended pun.
Skidding to a stop by the Jackrabbit she yanks open the door, nearly taking it off its hinges in her haste, and grabs the boy. Protecting him with her body she scans the area, taking in the scene.

Jotamon: not moving, looking like he's in a hacker trance, Jamie: somewhat similar. The van beginning to move towards them, the other cars moving to allow it a clear run. The sound of the drone indicating it was setting up for a repeat run.

"Drek! Come on J no time to be asleep on the job" She re-sends the message about the escape route to his datalink, highlighting it with red flashes just to be sure.

Grabbing Jamie she begins to pull her from the car shouting "Time to run!" as she does so.

@Ember, Copperhead, Pixel & Demon
[April 15th 2072; 22:52:00 The Drunken Drone]

Dealer nods brusquely, it could be a sign of professional respect if he pulled it off better, to Demon, peers at the toy for a moment and shrugs. At least it explains where the 4th team mate is. At least its not a mage. Well, another mage. Frag this. The things you do...

<@Pixel: Hello. They say your a drek hot hacker. Molly says to be real polite to you to...should I be saying "hee" like with Mr. Hansai? Either way: I'm a huge fan of hackers, so I suspect we'll get along.>

The mages get a slightly restrained grimace. "Saw you all on the AR. This will be...an interesting run. At least you're on my side. So...thats a plus."

Hansai gets what could be a short bow, and a quick LinguaSoft rendered "Ohkieenasutte.". Followed by a long silence meant for listening.

Dealer sits down at the table, sliding his duffel bag over the back of his chair. After some initial conversation, its time to get to the meat and potatoes of this.

<@GRP Suicide-Kings (Pixel, Ember, Demon, Hansai, Copperhead) Files Requested: Blueprints, schematics, known security systems, known security forces, power and sewage support to facility, GPS and map data, corporate affiliations and organizational affiliations for target area.

"And while we're at it, anyone want to tell me what caused downtown to turn into a warzone? I mean, the helicopter was launching fragging missiles. On Vid...which means KE thinks the public would approve of the missile strike, and allow it to be broadcast. The implication is someone here is in the drek."

@Ember, Copperhead, Seth, Dealer & Demon
[April 15th 2072; 22:52:00 The Drunken Drone]



The purple dinosaur's eyes go wide and the mouth falls open with an excited gasp. It practically falls over reaching for Molly's elbow to pantomime hugging it. "I love you! And your pie!" The eyes track back to the rest of the group for a split second before the doll rights itself. "<ahem> I'll send Marvin to check it out. And don't give me that look casanova." she says with a pointed look at Demon.

Pixel swivels her datasphere around to highlight her eye-in-the-sky Marvin on her subscriptions list. [Oi, Marvin, get some sensors on the South-East quadrant of the Drunken Drone's property. Sneaky like please, and keep some decent altitude.]. She wires over the designated area's coordinates to the drone's pilot. The drone's reply comes across the link [Yes ma'am... brain the size of a planet and she asks me to watch a junk yard. <sigh>]



Pixel sits on her lightpost for a moment contemplating her answer while trying not to salivate too much at the prospect of enjoying her pie. <<@Hansai: Ok, if you say so, I'll go with you on this. As for the time I need... depends. I doubt it'll have great digital security since it's offline anyway, so it shouldn't take more then a minute. If it does have solid defenses, well, it may take hours to do it right, but I can probably still worm my way in fast if we need it.>>

I guess I'll give them a little more leeway. Hansai's usually right about these things. She ticks a few more boxes on her 'guests' permissions, giving them tacnet feeds from her combat team.



Ooo a fan. Well, we'll see how that pans out.

<<@Dealer: Well, you're off to a good start. If you're game for slaving your commlink to mine I can get you into the team mesh network we're growing here. TacNet included, since Molly seems to like you well enough.>>

The little purple toy pipes up again, "Might I suggest you boyos make sure you have the last components on your end to facilitate the TacNet? You'll need 4 sensory feeds at a minimum to get the most from it. Trodes and a sim module will suffice for 3. Add some low-light or thermographic from your own eyes or some specs and you're all set. I bet Molly has whatever you need on that end. Soyez toujours prêt, oui?"

@ Seth, Ember, Copperhead, Pixel & Dealer
[April 15th 2072; 22:52:00 The Drunken Drone]

Demon arcs an eyebrow at Dealer and nods back politely. He is about to take another bite of his omelette---which is American and bourgeois and oh so delicious right now---when Pixel wisecracks him. He stops mid-bite and smirks at what has to be a first for him---getting rejected by a toy. He shrugs it off, eats the omelette, and chews his food before replying.

"Mon ami, the very last thing I would desire is to offend you. Worry not, I shall not look at you that way any longer." Especially since I am a bit afraid of the level of depravity a mind must reach to masquerade in such a form...for all I know, you could be a very ugly, very obese, and very unattractive---ugh---man hiding behind that dinosaur... He leaves that last bit unsaid for two reasons. First, there is no need to perpetuate the stereotype of "the rude Frenchman"---that is Ember's chosen role more often than not. Second, "Barney" came bearing gifts, and let it never be said that Demon is ungrateful.

He slips the new commlink over his ear and is delighted to see his PAN snap back into existence with all the various little messages---all in French---that he had painstakingly coaxed out of it as a novice programmer.

<<Greetings! It has been 50 minutes since you last logged in!>>

<<The Savalette Guardian currently has 12 of 15 bullets in the clip. If you have a chance, please exchange it with a full clip!>>

<<It has been 2 days, 14 hours, 37 minutes and 43 seconds since you last cleaned your Ares Alpha. Don't you think you had better clean it?>>

Hearing the sound of the crowd, he looks back to admire the stripper's "performance" when he hears Pixel speak French.

"Oui, un bon conseil pour toutes les choses---good advice for all things. I am impressed, mon dinosaure belle, but I must humbly ask that we speak the language of this land. There is a lady present who does not speak my motherland's tongue. As I am terrible at remembering to speak English, perhaps you can help remind me?" he replies, indicating Copperhead. Gifts AND French? I am beginning to like this Pixel person, whoever he or she may be...

@Ember, Copperhead, Seth, Dealer & Demon
[April 15th 2072; 22:53:00 The Drunken Drone]



The dino's arms flop up and a little out in what you think is supposed to be a shrug (it's not exactly an agile toy). "Aye, I'll try to keep that in mind."

<<@Demon: I'm half surprised that PAN of yours isn't full of sultry female persona-softs on all your gear. Or did I read you wrong on that, mmMM? Anyway, it's secured, but don't forget those sensory feeds for me, S'il vous plaît. I think you'll enjoy the TacNet, Mr. Suspected-Killer-For-Hire. And I'd rather you be on your toes after that little trist on the trid this evening.>>

@Ember, Pixel, Seth, Dealer & Demon
[April 15th 2072; 22:52:00 The Drunken Drone]

Frag, now the decker was speaking French too.

Copperhead frowns, tucking into her food with a vengeance. After she goblinized, it had taken her more than a year just to be able to speak English again without slurring her words or drooling. And then to survive in the Barrens she had let her grammar and pronunciation slide, letting most people think she was just another dumb trog. She was going to have to step up her game to keep up with these people. And to do that she was going to need some better gear. A slow smile spreads across her face as she listens to the plans being drawn up.

Time for some retail therapy!

"I'm gonna see what da lady has in my size. Pixel, can you keep a channel open on my comm so I can listen in on da plan?"

She follows the stout little woman 'out the back' and her eyes go wide at the range of gear stored there. Her every question is answered with a pointed finger or an 'over there' and soon she has stacked up quite a pile of gear. She is checking out a Franchi SPAS combat shotgun when something catches her eye. She picks up the big Enfield shotgun with it's drum magazine and raises an eyebrow towards Molly.

"Enfield AS-7, 24 round drum, burst fire capable. Laser sight's been replaced with a half decent Chinese smartlink system and the added foregrip helps with the recoil, which is a bitch. It's already troll modded, so looks like it was made for you."

When she returns to the cafe, she has changed from ganger/runner wannabe to army pinup. The heavy camo suit conceals her scaled arms and torso. It is set to urban/night pattern and a variety of grenades are clipped to its webbing. Milspec tac-goggles are pushed up on her head and a heavy black respirator hangs loose on its straps. She holds up the big shotgun in one hand, posing for a moment in the doorway, then stuffs it into a troll-sized holdall along with her other gear before joining the others back at the table.

@Ember, Copperhead, Seth, Dealer & Demon
[April 15th 2072; 22:53:00 The Drunken Drone]

'Barney' pips up again, "We seem to have an admirer. Check your AR. I think you'll want to see this too, Molly, Hansai." Across the new commlinks comes a vid-clip and photo capture of the figure sprawled across the top of the trucks, and a tacnet marker showing the figure's approximate location.

[Hey Marvin, give me another flyby on these coordinates, and this time keep some altitude ya goober. 500m or better] Pixel forwards the girl's estimated loation. [And while you're at it, see if you can scan down a hidden node around there.]

@ Suicide Kings
[April 15th 2072; 22:5?? The Drunken Drone]

Dealer is interestedly opening the schematics flashing across his AR, and transposing coordinates with some old GoogleFoxWorld maps when a sparkling wand appears with a bright warning red on it. Pixel may have some, uh, unique, schemes for a hacker, but they always eem to be an eccentric lot. The little cartoon nuclear explosions shooting out the tip of the wand probably mean this is important...

<<Warning, Drone (roll back enabled) MARVIN has had an unplanned communication loss. All systems were functioning as of last report. Re-establish signals have failed. Would you like to know more? >>

No. I think I know enough...in a sort of you knew a run with two mages and a burning hotel was going to go like this sort of know-enough way...

Dealer stops talking for a moment, and his gifted commlink drops off the net with a final transmission:

<<@ GRP Suicide-Kings I'm on vocal RF only. SC PT 33.350. Pixel, tell me when my link is safe again?>>

He turns away from the veritable corncucopia of goodies, grabbing his duffel on the way. His head turns to talk to Molly "Say Molly, I have a question..."

As he begins to speak he notices the big fraggin mage, Copperhead right, is pulling out a shot gun.

So much for the subtle approach. A fragging big ass mage with a fragging big ass shotgun...maybe we can pretend its for the stripper?...righht...mages....

@ Suicide Kings
[April 15th 2072; 22:53:10 The Drunken Drone]

Copperhead notices the new guy, Dealer, glancing her way as she pulls out the big gun. She grins at him and shrugs, "It's been one of those nights."

@ Seth, Ember, Copperhead, Pixel & Dealer
[April 15th 2072; 22:53:10 The Drunken Drone]

<<@Pixel: Mon ami, you wound me. I am nothing if not a consummate professional, and such persona wares would be too much of a distraction---assuming I even knew how to program them. Besides, if I find myself longing for the company of a woman, I find one who sees that she desires me as well. However, welcome to my PAN. My eyes and ears are at your disposal, mon personnage mysterieux d'ordinateur. I hope you will find their enhancements useful.>>

He finishes his meal and then carefully prepares his plate for one of the lingerie-wearing waitresses. He graciously hands her his cleaned plate---along with a tip of 50 nuyen. Having a whore for a mother, he remembers his roots and recognizes the likelihood that the waitress worked for the odd tip or two. Perhaps it might even pave the way for something more between the two of them. Nuyen lasts but a moment, a potential night of passion lasts...well...a night time, but the memory of that night lasts forever.

Done with his meal, he moves on over to Molly.

"My dear hostess, a thousand thanks for the meal and hospitality! I admit, I began to fear that the only thing that society wished to spare me were bullets from a smoking gun. If I may impose yet again, I would be grateful to peruse your more martial matter.

He looks through the different lists of ammunition and accessories, but when his eyes manage to find the price he balks a bit at the notion of paying that much for it.

"Ma belle hotesse, your prices are surely fair, but is there not a thing you can do to lower them just this once? After all, we are on a mission to avenge your dead friend..." He hesitates to finish speaking until he sees her reaction. When he sees her relent a bit in the asking price, he begins to smile gratefully.

"A thousand thanks, mademoiselle. What is that? You would like me to perform for your establishment one day? Why, I would be delighted!"

With everyone arming up, he ditches the long trench coat he was wearing to cover his own chameleon suit. He pops one of his newly purchased clips with APDS ammo into one of his hold out pistols of choice---"Surprise." When he sees Copperhead heft up the shotgun, he shoots her an approving grin.

"My lady, what a perfect choice of evening attire for our midnight soiree. It even compliments your eyes."

@ Seth, Ember, Copperhead, Pixel & Dealer
[April 15th 2072; 22:53:10 The Drunken Drone]

Copperhead returns Demon's grin with a saucy wink and her best cover girl pose.

"Why thank you Demon. When a girl makes an effort to pick da right outfit and accessories ta go wid it, it's nice ta be appreciated. Just not sure if I'll actually be able to hit anything with dis big ass gun, though."

She then snaps the goggles into place and adopts a more businesslike stance, the shotgun held barrel down in both hands. She briefly assenses the area to see if they are still inside the buildings wards, pondering her next move. Then she focuses her attention on the data overlays Pixel's tacnet is sending to her AR feed.

<<@Pixel: Okay lady, I gotta lotta stuff going on in my AR. Care ta explain what da frag it all means?>>

@ Suicide Kings
[April 15th 2072; 22:5X:XX The Drunken Drone]


Dealer watches as his tacnet feeds and updates cascade away, quietly mourning the loss. Since it seems like tonight is going to do its best to kill him, there's no reason to blare his presence to an apparently compromised net. A brief tingling sensation on his arms, the well-beyond-5-o'clock-shadow stands on end for a moment, and skinlink is completely active. Back to the digital stone ages...maybe this is how the gunmen felt back when there were decks and wires.

If Pixel is as drek hot as they say, the tour of pre-matrix history will be short.


Hopefully. Then again, we lost that drone no warninf

As Demon flirts with the ludicrous image of a massive, be-shotgunned troll-mage, who happens to be holding a playboy playboy pose, it looks like the skinny mage is doing something that makes his nose bleed.

4 minutes into the meet, an amorous shooter, TWO freakin mages, and everyone about to go buck wild in a bar...I should have invested in some extra nano-tats. Maybe if I make sure the repsirator and goggles are on, and then make sure Molly conveniently corrupts whatever feed the KE get when this is all over....maybe..just maybe...I can end this night without a million nuyen bounty.

He glances over to Copperhead slapping her goggles into place, Ember doing...mage stuff...with the air...thats causing him to wince...and Molly heading over to talk about how to best shoot a sniper from inside a crowded bar.

The again. Maybe not.

A final faint- and quickly dying-moment to hope that they aren't on a drone feed right now, and he waits for Molly to speak...

@ Seth, Ember, Copperhead, Pixel & Dealer
[April 15th 2072; 23:00:00 The Drunken Drone]

As Molly heard the news, her face became red with anger. "Active defence plan alpha" she said to the thin air. "Pixel dear: Move now. That could be a sniper aiming on you. ".

As she said the word "alpha" there were four explosions, and four pillars of fire reaching 100s of metres into the air from the scrapyard. As she finished the words "...aiming on you" a massive electro magnetic web slammed into everyone's commlinks, and all matrix operations ceased. The lights illuminating the car pack switched off.

In the back yard, two turrets popped out of the ground. Each of the turrets had twin heavy machine guns and a mortar. The mortar began to fire "phut phut phut".

From the top of the pillars of fire came an intense flashing light brighter than the sun, making it impossible to see what was there.

"Follow me" Molly said, and walked to the hole that had appeared in the courtyard floor, complete with fireman's pole. Grabbing the pole she descended three stories into the antechamber of a control room.

The control room had huge old fashioned displays everywhere. "Don't trust this modern ARO stuff in time of trouble" Molly muttered. "This is our auxillary control room". Wireless communications were working down here, but provided very little capability other than duplicating the displays.

One of the screens was a millimetre radar sweep of the junkyard. Three humanoid figures had been spotted and were being highlighted. Most of the parked lorries were susceptible to the radar, but seven of them were highlighted as risks, as they could not be pentrated. The body count inside each lorry was displayed as a number, along with a weapons count.

Another display showed the deployment pattern of the microdrones being launched by 6 mortars scattered around the junk yard. The drones showed a heat map of threat. The three humanoid figures were shown, as were the remains of 2 microdrones and 2 hover drones designated wasp 1, wasp 2, bandit 1 and bandit 2.

A group of four screens showed a birds eye view of the junkyard from the four weapons platforms that had been rocket launched and were now descending on parachute. The weapons platforms were currently illuminating the humanoid figures with multiple laser targetters.

Images of the party which was just approaching its climatic finalle, were superimposed over the guests. Each of the guests had a little ARO tag showing weapons, ammunition count, threat rating and trust rating. The commedian was taking charge of the guests giving an obviously prepared and very funny speech for their benefit. A handful of the guests were ignoring the comedian and running towards their vehicles, an expert system was detailing recommendations for each.

A cluster of screens showed the images from crawler bots that had been hidden in the junk, several of them moving toward's the figures.

"I don't know who they are" Molly said. "No corporate marking. Their equipment is expensive. I cannot afford a war with an unknown corporation, so with plan alpha I will try and take them alive, but while I can destroy equipment, I am not going to shoot them unless they shoot at me first"

As Molly was describing the rules of engagement, two of the figures slowly dropped their weapons, and put their hands in the air, but the third (the one that Pixel had spotted) was suddenly surrounded by a haze of thermal smoke. The millimetre radar tracking blured a little, but it could see the figure moving at superhuman speeds towards the lorry park.

Three of the lorries that were immune to radar popped turrets, which began to fire at the parachuting weapon platforms, and began to disgorge armed people and flaming elementals. The weapons platforms in response dropped canisters. "FAB and HE" Molly winced. And many of the figures including the elementals dropped, but the ones nearest the running guests were not being targeted, and already two of the platforms were reporting critical damage.

"Drek, they are serious about this" Molly said grimly. "This is a full corporate assault. You need to get out of here. " As she spoke a trap door opened. "This is a disused service tunnel. It takes you to the storm drain system. Take this <ARO Link to a map soft>. The tunnel is trapped but the map soft includes a how-to to avoid dying. Use it!"

Turning her back Molly began to orchestrate the defense of her cafe.

@ Seth, Ember, Copperhead, Pixel & Dealer
[April 15th 2072; 23:00:00 The Drunken Drone]

Pixel's commlink shouted alarms. <<Unregistered program identified.>> squawked the alarm programs.

A vague image of a an old fashioned ram chip appeared.

A voice spoke. "Pixel. Long way to run. You cannot keep running." the insectoid chip arched its back, and claws dripping vitriolic poison appeared on the ends of the legs. "My employer wants you dead, so lets do this" .

As it spoke, the chip broke into three sections, and each moved separately to engage

@ Seth, Ember, Demon, Pixel & Dealer
[April 15th 2072; 23:00:00 The Drunken Drone]

Frag me, it's like World War III out there. thinks Copperhead as she tries to make sense of the chaos on the screens of Molly's secret bunker. At least I'm dressed for it.

She glances down the tunnel then takes a moment to upload the mapsoft, her brow furrowing in concentration as she struggles to manipulate the data with her mind. Once her new commlink seems to have stabilized, she turns to Molly.

"Sorry for bringing dis down on yer head. Dese fraggers is really out fer our blood."

She takes a tentative step toward the escape route then glances back to the others with a tusky grin, aimed mainly at Demon.

"Any of you fraggers even think of saying 'Ladies first' and I kick your hoop inta da first trap we run inta."

@ GRP Suicide Kings
[April 15th 2072; 23:00:00 The Drunken Drone]

"Well. Drek."

As the display of violence, technology, magic and what Dealer figures is a decade of the Drunken Drone's legal earnings light up the night, he rapidly strips off his Actioneer Business clothes as everyone watches the screens. Well, hopefully everyone is watching the screens. A social butterfly he is not, but there's probably something that says you shouldn't flounce around in nothing but boxers while sitting in the alternate command nodes of impregnable-fortress-bars while a massive attack is underway. Then again, there's probably nothing in an etiquette book that says you can't so maybe its open for new precedent?

In a surprisingly short amount of time, he is stepping into his much beloved chameleon suit. The colors mold around him to match the surroundings, and shrugs irritatedly as he adjusts to the feel of the new interior protective adjustments. His heat signature rapidly fades from sight at cutting edge thermal dampening comes into play. He frowns for a moment at an unfamiliar feel:

Forgot to spray the insides with RF inhibitor before the run. Dammit. As if this run isn't trying to kill me already without being sloppy.

Respirator on, goggles down. Functions check on ultrasound. All commlinks blacked out except for the Avalon in skinlink mode. Not ideal, but when the enemy just trumped your hacker unannounced, having a matrix signature is not a good thing.

And then the bag opens. Out comes the silenced Ares Alpha, and in goes a magazine full of APDS. Smoke, Flash, and Frag grenades, along with extra ammo all get tucked into cargo pouches. Smartgun data silently hums across his skin, and then across his goggles.

For the first time tonight, he smiles.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Dealer is back in business.

@Ember, Copperhead, Seth, Dealer & Demon
[April 15th 2072; 23:00:00 The Drunken Drone]

Pixel's icon sighs in exasperation. "Aww emm, you remember me. Ready for round 2 are we? How tedious." With the Alert on, her commlink was already working to sever her opponent's connection, so Pixel decided to make it's job a bit easier.

With the enemy icon nicely highlighted, she comes in at it with a wave of her magic Exploit wand.

@ GRP Suicide Kings
[April 15th 2072; 23:00:XX The Drunken Drone, moments after the trapdoor opens]

<<Aces and Eights Net, Dealer Internal - Burst functionality enabled, ARO received (rollback enabled), returning to skinlink only.>>

Dealer mentally nods, and then glances at Copperhead and Demon and considers the implications of "In tha hoop". After a brief mental battle, he decides not to antagonize the mage in the light of the upcoming situation. He does however, begin to speak:

"Molly, Copperhead, we have a slight problem with the escape through the drains plan. You see, Molly said the sniper was aiming at Pixel. And that sniper was supposedly covering the front of the bar. Which means our hacker is up there, in the middle of that. Presumably in the lot, or they would be joining us in person right now," he points at the ongoing battle playing out on screen, "and we can't exactly get the paydata without our hacker. Because frankly, I'm no good at that sort of thing, Demon doesn't seem the type, and I'm not betting that our more magically inclined bounties in the group are anywhere beyond Excellerator 2072 spreadsheets. Which means we need to retrieve Pixel alive, and without more bullet holes than we can patch with a medi-kit. So, Molly, two questions: which one of those figures is Pixel, and how do we get back up? Actually, make that three questions - can you drop a few more loads of FAB out there? I may be working with mages tonight, but at least I can watch some spirits die."


"Czzktt - Pixel, I'm coming up assist in extraction. Molly is marking your position. Don't get shot - Hansai would have to hire a Yak or something if you get wasted."

And you don't want your Yak friends in on this one for some reason, do you Mr. J?

@Suicide Kings
[April 15th 2072; 23:00:30 The Drunken Drone, moments after the trapdoor opens]

Copperhead glances back to the chaos on the monitors and sighs at the carnage. Frag, how could anyone survive through all that?

She turns to Dealer, "Are you fragging crazy? We needs her alive yeah, but if we go out there now we is all likely to get killed."

Seeing that he is serious, she shakes her head. Then she draws herself up to her full two meters, a mad grin all tusks and teeth spreading across her face.

"Frag it! Okay, if we do dis den gimme a sec to see if I can rustle up some help from Snake."

She closes her eyes and begins to sway to an unheard beat.

Mama snake, I need your help. Please send me one of your servants to help me get our decker to safety. She is the key to unlock the dwarf Allenby's secrets.

She smiles as she feels the familiar presence of a winged snake close by in the astral. Then still swaying and mumbling under her breath, she rubs one of the earrings in her left ear and draws on Snake's senses to warn her of danger.

Just as suddenly as she started, she stops swaying. A translucent forked tongue tastes the air as she hisses, Okay, I gotss uss ssome help. Can maybe keep a couple of uss hidden if dey sstay closess to me. Maybe meanss dat no magess, sspirits or riggers sspots us. Coz den we iss fragged."

@Suicide Kings
[April 15th 2072; 23:00:30 The Drunken Drone,a few more moments after the trapdoor opens]

"Out there? Oh no. We're not going out there," Dealer points to the parking lot, which by now resembles a cross between mac-truck demolition derby and a Karl Kombatmage special effects director audition,"contrary to what it may seem like since I did, in fact, accept the job, I don't want to die tonight. We are however, going up into the bar. Once those platforms drop, nothing is going to stop the ground forces from locking this place down." He points to the figures currently pinned down, and those moving forward. "Once that happens, Pixel's fragged and you all die three days later trying to hire a new hacker as your fixer walks away with a clean million. We just need to hold the path open for Pixel"

And I end up with no work, no nuyen, and probably no kneecaps.

Dealer glances around, and tucks himself in next to Copperhead. his distinct scowl at using a spirit is lost behind the respirator.
He see's Demon hefting a ridiculously illegal sniper rifle, though he seems to be patting his pockets for something.

Well, that's comforting. He looks like he knows how to use that thing, and worst case scenario, at least they'll shoot at him first. Well, after the mages. I bet Copperhead can take a few rounds too. We might actually live through this. Well, probably not Ember...but four outta five ain't bad.

"We just need to keep them outside the bar long enough for our hacker to make it back in. Pixel gets killed outside, we cut our losses and bail. Either way, step two is run like hell back here. Molly, we absolutely need every spirit and every drone up there fraggin dead," he pauses for a moment and adds "and actually, who here is running ultrasound or wideband? Or is getting direct feed from the radar still? A nice coating of thermo smoke might be a good trick."

All said, it's probably not the most inspiring speech. Or the best delivered. And the boom mike on the respirator probably isn't helping out the elocution any. but no one ever said Dealer was all that good at speaking. Come to think of it, in all the commotion, its hard to tell if anyone is listening all that hard to begin with. And the plan is kind of...hasty...

If they ever make this into a movie, I'll be royally pissed if they don't make that sound better.

@ Seth, Ember, Copperhead, Pixel & Dealer
[April 15th 2072; 23:00:30 The Drunken Drone,a few more moments after the trapdoor opens]

Listening to Dealer go off yet again, Demon rolls his eyes as he has finally had enough.

"Shut up! Mon Dieu, do you ever stop whining? You Americans with your tendencies to fret about the future are enough to make my ass twitch. For the moment, we are alive. Three days from now is an eternity away. Live in the now, not in your make-believe future. Cesser d'être un tel pleurnicheur putain, ugh."

"Ma belle hotesse," he says to Molly as he pops in an APDS clip into the Walther MA-2100---his Arc d'Morte---and fastens a silencer onto the muzzle, "I hope your friends have sent the right man. I consider myself an understanding person, but I am also a big believer in first impressions. While the mysterious Pixel has demonstrated an uncanny way with the digital arts, mon frere here has shown nothing more than ability to chronically whine."

He switches his commlink to skinlink mode, and smiles when he sees all of his various smartlinked guns come back on line as well as a long list of potential insults based on his last few words---Whine-ona Ryder, Oprah Whinefry and---his personal favorite because the others seemed somewhat archaic---Ghostwhiner.

"Now, my lovely Molly, if you could point me towards a good spot to sit and deal death from afar, I shall do everything in my power to help rescue Pixel unharmed." He shoulders the smartpack filled with ammunition, grenades, toxins and other "goodies" and awaits a direction.

@SuicideKings
[April 15th 2072; 23:00:03 Inside Pixel's commlink

Pixel's wand appeared to have the desired effect, and one of EMM386's legs shattered. The decker's mock face (the writing on the chip) distorted with rage. <<That will do you no good>> he snarled. <<Taste my venom>>

With that the three parts of the centipede attacked as one. The part with the face attacking bit hard and fast, although the venom on the claws representing hideous psychotropic death seemed to have no effect on Pixel's icon. The two other fragments seemed less effective but still snapped unpleasantly at the outnumbered Pixel.

Chortling at his inevitable victory, foam spraying from the maddened decker's fake mouth, Emm386 pounded even harder at Pixel's icon.

@SuicideKings
[April 15th 2072; 23:00:15 The Drunken Drone]

Molly waved her hands at the barrage of questions. "Whoa guys and gals hold your horses".

"Here is Pixel" an ARO appears around one of the lights. "Don't be surprised if she's a little small and hard to see. FAB is being deployed as fast as I can. " she shudders "I'm set up to deal with Gangers and Mobs, not corporate assault squads, and I'm hindered by those idiots" she gestures at the handful of guests that are not staying indoors, "as I can't drop the more interesting stuff near them".

"You get up that way" Molly points back to the fireman's pole, there where rungs set in the side of the access tube leading to the surface. "I'll cover you as best I can."

Standing to her full four foot height, she kissed Demon on the cheek. "Don't get yourself killed, you hear?" then booted the group out of her command center.

@SuicideKings
[April 15th 2072; 23:00:30 The Drunken Drone]

The group of runners swarm up the ladder out of the command center and race into the cafe. As they enter they note the large steel door that slammed shut between the bar and the cafe. The walls of the cafe were broken and shattered, only held together by the Kevlar wallpaper. However the inside of the cafe was eerily untouched. The remains of the parties' supper was still on the tables. The jamming did not appear to be affecting the inside of the cafe.

Hansai Jones, unsheathed Katana in hand was standing in the center of the room, with a massive blue flashing ARO "Knight Errant Officer under unlawful attack, backup on way" bleeping from it.

This scene did not last long, as the door exploded open, and figures appeared through the smoke. A grenade was fired into the room from its launcher. Swifter than the eye could see, Hansai Jones' katana sliced it, deflecting it back to the doorway. With the grenade came a fusliade of bullets, and while his body moved with incredible beauty and speed, his left arm exploded with blood and gore as multiple assault rifle bullets smashed into it. The grenade then exploded, and Hansai dragged himself to the side as his auto-injector began to apply medical pharmaceuticals.

April 15th, 2072 10:51am; Dearborn; Downtown Seattle
[Pan=Hidden. Id = <Information not available>]

Noting Doza enthusiasm for getting out of here , Jotamon snapped out of his trance, and checked his expert systems that had been keeping track of the physical world. There was a copter coming, and that would be bad.

"OK Doza, I'm with you." Wincing a little from the pain of the assault rifle wound, Jotamon still moves somewhat gracefully, and follows Doza away from the scene of devastation. "You take Jamie, I'll carry the kid", and wincing a little more, Jotamon takes the child from Doza.

The two of them head into one of the industrial buildings, and out the back keeping an eye out for the copter heading for the vehicle that Doza's Mr J had proffered. "So this is your run Doza: ignoring important questions like 'how come you are alive', and 'where were you at your funeral...which was very touching...I cried', 'who is the kid' the urgent but less important questions are 'who wants him dead' and 'who is your Mr Johnson'?"

@Suicide Kings
[April 15th 2072; 23:00:30 The Drunken Drone]

Hunkering behind the pizza selection of the self service cafe, Dealer watches the events unfold through a world of mottled grey brushstrokes. Ultrasound takes a little getting used to, but for times like these, its well worth the investment. As he watches the door blow open, he smiles grimly beneath the respirator.

Mistake. Obvious point of entry. The one place in the room where you can't even try to get out of the line of fire and the one place everyone wants to naturally look at anyhow. Easy meat.

His Ares is already laid on by the time the first figure comes through the fatal funnel. The smartgun system places a single Spade across the suggested point of aim. An even pull of the trigger.....

clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack

A counterpoint to the volume of gunfire elsewhere, the silenced rifle produces only the sound of its bolt hammering back. A quick adjustment and Dealer sends another long burst down range...

@Suicide Kings
[April 15th 2072; 23:00:30 The Drunken Drone]

Pixel's hands flew over the virtual controls and the screens in her AR datasphere rotated in a dizzying swirl as infromation flooded around the digital combat. A fluctuation in the inbound datastream display correlated the display of the ram-chip icon as it lost a leg. Her first strike had been successful in knocking one of his programs offline, but her commlink was struggling to close off the access port the enemy hacker was using to invade her system with little success.

One hand spun the glowing mouse-ball, trying to nail down emm386's icon with a magnifying glass, but it kept slipping away from her Analyze program. Then the three-segmented ram chip lunged forward at her icon. Pixel's other hand moved up to bring the firewall's shielding into the attack path of the main chip and nearly knocked it aside, but the fangs latched on and the corrosive goo started eroding through into her icon's arm. A spike in the simfeed channels confirmed her suspicions that it had a psychotropic component.

Whew. Glad I'm keeping this fight in AR on my end. Just wish I had time to get that Nuke program cleaned up before this little encount-EEP! Her train of thought is interrupted as the other two icons swing in to attack from the sides. One runs afoul of the large translucent plate she slides inbetween them. The second goes for her head, but she ducks her icon down and slips beneath and behind into a bull-fighter stance. "Olay, ya twerp!"

emm386's fangs are practically frothing now as the little ram chip chortles madly to itself. hooooboy. This one's a looney. Her own icon was showing signs of degredation with her left arm missing several polygonal blocks. The commlink wasn't feeling so good either. Some sections of the datasphere were fritzing to static intermittently as her system tried to work around the damaged code blocks.

Pixel's face screwes up and her tongue lickes up on her lip as she tries to carefully aim another bolt from her wand. It fires off a coruscating flash at emm386's chip, but the chip shifts into smoke and writhes away from the blast. All three segments of the chip surround the little fairy and lunge in together. At the last instant the little fairy twists into a spiraling rainbow and teleports away, leaving her three opponents tumbling past each other through empty space.

Suddenly Pixel's ECCM software flashes a red warning and kicks into overdrive, and the trio of ram chip segments freeze for a split second then de-rez into nothingness. The entire exchange is over in a mere 2 seconds.

Her comm pipes in a voice message from Molly:


Ahh, Molly. Well that works. Pixel takes to the air, heading away from the ensuing chaos to start circling around towards her van, Beanie, as quick as her little wings can carry her. Then she flips the Encryption's rotation ahead a few notches, updating her network's protocols to slow down emm386 a bit if he gets back online in short order.

As she flies, Pixel twitches a hand through her drone feeds to find Marvin currently descending. [Hey, Marvin, get your rear in gear! Get some altitude to around 1/2 km and keep an eye on the yard with those lovely sensors of yours]. The drone sluggishly responds [Oh, of course. I've got nothing better to do. I never have anything better to do.]

Pixel fires off a message to her teammates over the comms, it bears a slight metallic echo and some background static, but it's still coming through pretty clear.
<<@Team, Hansai, Molly: Just had a visit from our friendly neighborhood hacker with a message of love (death) from Teague. Nice timing on the ECM Molly, you nailed him. Which means he's probably close by. And no worries, I'm leaving the engagement area already. If you can do me a favor and make sure Alpha and Eddie are on that ECM's safe list, I'll be happy to lend you some support.>>

@Suicide Kings
[April 15th 2072; 23:00:30 The Drunken Drone]

Copperhead feels like she is moving in slow motion as the door explodes and chaos erupts. Lead flies around her as she dives into cover near Hansai, squeezing off a wide burst from the big gun towards the figures coming through the door.

Frag me, Molly was right. This thing kicks like a mule.

She mentally commands the gun to single shot, while pulling one of the flashbang's from her webbing. She passes it off to the air spirit floating near her with a hissed command.

"Drop thiss quick by the goonss at the door, then engage them as you dessire. Focuss on any who iss magically active. My thankss for your sservicess."