As he is looking at the women in the club, picking out some possible target and signaling to Strangeglove his favorites, he focuses on the message that came in from Eklipse, then looks over to the furry German speaking man...

"Mach dir keine Sorgen, ich möchte nur suchen, und es gibt eine Menge zu sehen"

He smiles that little charming smile of his then continues

"Aber ich danke Ihnen für Ihr Interesse, Herr Eklipse"

He focuses his attention back to the conversation at the table regarding their business

"While I have a good amount of gear a this point, I could definitely use some new armor, ma current bloody armor just isn't up to snuff, and ma commlinks is just shite compared to what I was used to using, I also do not have my own transportation, but don't mind tha"

Zerone shows his commlink to Cypher's AR image, not sure if he should put it on the image display or near it. He settles for the latter. When Cypher is done he bows his head gratefully, and replaces the commlink in his jacket pocket.

Zerone glances over at the commotion caused by the newer members of the team. His creators had never instructed him in social mores, so he still struggles to understand casual interaction. His relative age compared to his physical appearance also complicates matters, for his experience with others is fairly limited.

Concern flashes over his face when he sees Widget's reaction to the troll's withdrawing his arm from her. He moves over to them.

"Hello, I...um...am Zerone. Uh...Ms. Widget, are you all right?"

"Well, as I said, I can definitely help with the trans-" His sentence is cut off abruptly at Emilo's comment. Eyes narrow suddenly, and the hobgoblin's tone goes harsh.

"Oh yes, I had a grand time rotting in a German prison, you cow-"

TO ERR IS HUMAN, TO FORGIVE, DIVINE. The hobgoblin's voice cuts out like an interrupted com signal.

"There was a bit of a scuff-up, but everything worked out fairly well. We're both here now, after all." He offers Emilio a handshake and a smile. "Good to work with someone that I already know a bit. Have a seat, we were just discussing what we wanted to do in our downtime."

The tusked smile flashes back to Eklipse, and he waves a hand in a small, dismissive gesture. "I'm sure somebody's got the contacts to track it down, and if not, that'f what fixerff are for. I think we just need you to decide which direction we're going to moof in."

"Honestly, I've looked into their gear just enough to make sure that it won't get me killed and that it can run a TacNet. If we're going for the tech side toys, I can put together a nice shopping list. Some folks here though, anything more high tech than a toaster is going to be wasted on them.

"And uh...the newcomers I haven't seen anything of. Emilio was vouched for. You, Fleet seem to be covered. I've got some questions for the other two before we get too far unless Management is vouching for them."

Back in his apartment, the autochef beeps to say it is done. Cypher gets up and grabs his late night snack before sliding back into his chair. Virtual meetings were much easier than the face to face ones where bullets might start flying. The hacker could even take the next meeting in his underroos without the rest of the team being any the wiser.

Breezes looks over to Cypher, or at least where Cypher's image or voice were coming from and responds...

"None of what I have would be top o tha line stuff, but it is decent enough, I have skill with long range weapons though I do betta up close with some Pistols, the two I have are nicely enhanced for my purposes, I also have some items to cause distractions, but my main focus..."

Breeze leans back in his chair and smiles a bit, then continues in that thick British accent

"...and I'm pretty good at it if I do say so my self, is acquiring entry into places that I shouldn't be able ta go, I have a variety of 'tools of the trade' though it is not as extensive as I'd like it to be"

Emilio shakes Fleet's hand, then his next response is,

"Interesting."

After a moment of thought, he adds,

"Fleet, I am far too silly, too cocky, and not wide enough to be a cow. And when I say moo, 'Moooo,' it just isn't convincing. 'Rooster' or 'Donkey' would probably suit me better."

Looking around, he adds,

"Ahh, it's show-and-tell time? I'm good with guns and grenades. I have a sweet Alpha, which one of those bitches where you found me borrowed. Sorry, I hear the grenades were nasty. I also am good with making things go boom, make my own bullets, boom-boom and grenades (including the ones that bitch shot), and I have enough skill that I actually help the med kit when it's patching you up."

"What are we thinking?"

Zerone
Widget smiles and takes a moment to lean closer to Eklipse. She seems to take some strength or resolve from whatever he said and leans towards you. Her voice is pitched low and directed to you.

"Trouble yourself no further on my behalf Brother. I suffer from my own foolishness and it will pass as all troubles do."

Sperethiel rolls off her tongue with ease and once again you are struck by her ability to utilize the formal aspects of the tongue. You find the contrast of the club and the language a little disorientating which is further compounded by a growing tide of whispers - several voices seem to rise as one - men, women and children speaking as one. For a brief moment they align and a single passage comes through before the voices go silent. The ambient noise of the club floods back in around you.

"Do not turn to mediums or seek out spiritists, for you will be defiled by them. I am the LORD your God."

The Table
Widget shifts forward from her sheltered position by Eklipse, speaking mostly to Cypher but raises her voice loud enough to carry to the rest nearby.

"I did get a message from the boss that Breeze was a new hire but I haven't heard anything since then. I can ask or rather drop a message into the deep digital well that was set up and see what echoes back. As to GT - he's a minor matrix celebrity so he has some papers already if you will. Never hurts to have someone around for the heavy lifting but that's your call. You could always use this shopping trip as an introductory period. See how he works out etc."

She pauses as a server comes by, dropping off refills and more food. She grabs a bowl of soy treats and pops a couple in her mouth before resuming.

"If you all are serious let me know - I think I can find somewhere for you to shop especially if you have tech needs to fill."

"If Management says he's hired, we'll go from there. As for our shopping trip, unless Fleet has a spot in mind, you giving us a spot would be a good start and we can fine tune our shopping list from what's available."

Cypher sends out AROs to Breeze, SG, Fleet, and Emilio requesting access to sensor feeds from their commlinks.

"I can setup a safe house for us to work from as needed. I'll need to see the specs for sensors and data tracks before I can make a complete upgrade list for the group."

Strangeglove grumbles under his breath about "no one seeing my face," but cannot conceal his smile as he sits up a little straighter, as befits his newly minted celebrity status.

Accepting Cypher's commlink subscription request, ("Ooh, a tacnet,") Strangeglove promptly starts throwing target reticles onto the dance floor:

<<8 drunk and bored>>
<<6 that tail looks prehensile>>
<<3 but was checking Breeze out earlier>>

God help them if a firefight erupts.

Breeze continues to listen to the others as things are being ironed out, as the food arrives he grabs a few items and begins eating, his eyes always wandering, from one speaker to the next and then usually lingering on some pretty girl (weather they are at the table or not).

He notices the request from Cypher and accepts

Eklipse nods to Breeze, "You speak German. Es ist gut!" Although, he has a worse accent than a Berlin whore. So, close combat and infiltration.

He looks to Emilio. Hmm, some history with our twitchy rigger. Cocky, a bit like me when I was younger. Fire support and demolitions.

A quick matrix search turns up some blurry footage of a troll that could be GT in action. Ah, heavy weapons!

He returns his attention to Widget.

"Shopping. Not my favorite past-time. But Herr Cypher did suggest some upgrades for my 'stock pieces of drek' commlinks and I am sure he vould be happy if I added some additional sensors to upgrade ze tacnet. And zen zere is always ze 'spiffy' ammo to consider."

The Table
Widget pauses to think before speaking, tapping her fingers through a series of AR windows she pulled up.

"Ok I think I can help you all out but the we need to narrow down the search. Are you looking to hit someone with exactly what you need or someone who has inventory that's easy to turn into nuyen? Are you looking to make friends with this job or at least want a target that isn't going to upset too many people?"

As she lists have criteria she makes a square with her two hands and begins to capture sections of the AR windows and slides them into a pile to her side.

"The data side doesn't look like it will get anyone killed yet...and if we hit somewhere stable, the less portable upgrades I need may be onsite anyways. If the front door team needs some better choices, I vote for them. Otherwise, I'll make a shopping list. I'd vote for targeting what we need and minimizing enemies. Friends are nice but may come with more strings attached than we have space for."

Cypher sips the soykaf gently to avoid burning his tongue as he waits for the rest of the team to answer. Working remotely was nice, he could limit the space around him. It had been several days since his last flash into someone else. Never leaving wasn't an option, eventually he had to find a way to get the AIPS under control. Turning into one of the walking dead on the streets outside wasn't going to happen, he had a second chance at a real life.

Widget's fluency in his native tongue puts Zerone at ease, and is grateful for her gesture. However, the strange message confuses him.

"Why are ye so fearful? How is it that ye have no faith?"

Mark 4, Verse 40.

Indeed. He speaks to those who listen to Him, and the message is simple. What do you think it is?

I should have faith in Him, that He will grant me the strength to protect those I care about.

And it is right to do so, my friend. Such is a sign of love.

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

First Corinthians 13, Verses 4 through 7. Keep the apostle's wisdom in your heart, and have Faith in Him.

When Widget mentions different forms of jobs, he voices his support for the last option.

"Um, I think it would be best to carry out a job that will help people. I understand the...gavel...no...uh...goal! The goal is to make money, but maybe it is possible to do some good at the same time?"

"I expect a lot of the sort of people who have large stockpiles of expensive things around here are not good people, and we'd be doing the general population a favor taking their treasure off their hands. I'm sure it shouldn't be too hard for Widget to find someone we can raid with a clear conscience."

Breeze's eyes finally peel themselves off the ladies on the dance floors and moves them focused towards the table as he listens to the conversations at hand, he raises an interested and some what confused eye towards those speaking

Who did I just hook up with here, are they a bunch of Robin Hoods?

Breeze takes a few more pieces of the food on the table and leans back in his chair, continuing to listen to the conversation, interested in this new development of altruistic runners, he had certainly heard of this type of Shadowrunner breed, but it was a rare one, and just like all those animal documentary he likes to watch on the various Nature Channels, he will observe this rare breed in action.

Strangeglove meets Breeze's gaze, and they share a moment, mutual confusion communicated in the semaphore of waggling eyebrows.

Turning back to the table, Strangeglove says, "Definitely get what we want directly. If we've gotta buy, the fixer gets a cut and we'll be waiting a month for them to get off their ass an find our toys. And he probably end up buying from these same guys anyway; better to cut out the middleman.

Nodding to Cypher's space, he continues, "I second not making enemies. And I don' care about making friends by doing jobs. Do someone a favor and they think they own you."

"And I don't know about doing good with the job, Zerone, unless you know some orphans in need of a Squad Support Weapon."

Turning to Widget, "Ill get you a shopping list and you can compare it to whatever intel you've got."

Zerone shrugs, "Um...Mr. Strangeglove? It is not always orphans. In our last run, we helped people by putting an end to that awful doctor's clinic and rescued your friend, Mr. Breeze, and Mr. Emilio from that terrible place."

"We live in a fucked up world where your very existence can be stripped and sold because somebody forgot to run a backup tape. If you want to try and fill the moon with enough air to breathe, that's your bag Z. There's plenty of scumbags in the city with what we are shopping for, if knocking them down makes you sleep better and gets the others what they need, it doesn't much matter to me. Just remember, no one thinks of themselves as the bad guy.

"Alright, so unless there are conflicting viewpoints, get your shopping lists to Fleet and SG. I'm hoping they can coordinate with you, Widget, to find a spot with what we need and an appropriate level of bad people to give us the warm fuzzies when we're all finished. Complaints?"

Zerone grimaces, clearly uncomfortable with the attention placed on him. Follower takes note of his student's discomfort, and does what he can to put him at ease.

"Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others."

Philippians 2, Verses 1 through 4.

Correct, my friend. This was how He lived when He was of flesh and blood, and it matters not what others might say to you. Indeed, what can be said about hearts and words?

"The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For out of the overflow of his heart his mouth speaks."

Luke 6, Verse 45. What the heart feels, the mouth gives voice, be it good, evil, courage, fear, and all other things in between. Follow His Way and cherish what lies in your heart, my friend, and do not be embarrassed of what it asks your mouth to say.

Zerone's expression brightens after hearing Follower's encouragement, and he smiles. He finds the courage to galvanize his voice, and it becomes easier for him to speak outside of his native tongue.

"None whatsoever, Mr. Cypher. In our previous runs, we rescued Mr. Emilio, Mr. Breeze, and you as well, so I am sure we will find some good to do."

Strangeglove ruminates on Zerone's statement for a moment, before responding,

"I guess offin' fools always helps someone, even if it's just the next fool down the ladder. An' this time we'll rescue a homeless ArmTech MGL-18, and that'll be good."

Strangeglove begins to muse on the bizarreness of magicians, before stopping himself abruptly; they might be listening.

Emilio watches all the discussion, and chimes in, "I agree in getting direct, or going cash. And not making big enemies. Though if enemies are going to happen, the Yaks are prime in my book."

He then subscribes to the tacnet. "I probably need a better comlink."

Turning to Strangeglove, Emilio says, "Wait, that was you? You have MRCY. Where the frak did you get it? My Alpha looks a little sad in comparison without it."

Breeze continues to look at the conversation, his eyes darting back and forth between the people talking, finding it a bit amusing, he listens to Cypher's statement, after a bit more talk he responds, with his most calm and happy voice he can make with his heavy British accent

"Please Zerone, you can just call me Breeze, no need for formalities between people who have experienced our kind of intimacy..."

He awaits a few moments letting any uncomfortable feeling that some may have sink in before he continues with a charming smile

"...by that I of course mean getting me out o tha clinic en away from those tossers trying to make me a lab rat"

Breeze chuckles a little then continues

"oh and Cypher..."

He smiles a bit sinister at the camera then looks over to Widget

"...I am a bad limey bastard, and I'm ok with it"

He winks at Widget as he leans back and grabs orders another beer.

“If a man plants melons he will reap melons; if he sows beans, he will reap beans.”

Zerone looks at Breeze, completely oblivious to the obvious insinuation of his phrasing. However, he does appear somewhat crestfallen at the mention of his misuse of English.

"I...um...am sorry. My creators did not care to teach me English, and while I have had good teachers I am afraid it still does not feel right on my tongue. I will try to remember that, Mr. Bree---uh, Breeze."

"Creators? Are you some sort of drone or spirit or something?"

Strangeglove peers at Zerone intently, looking for screws or ectoplasm.

"Oh, um, I am a clone. My name is based on my tube's markings, '01RO.' They did not give me a name, so I took that, but most find 'Zerone' easier to say." Upon mentioning his origin, his face drops a bit.

"I should probably mention that being a...um...clone, means that there are others who share my face. My mind is my own, but I am afraid that the others who look like me share my talents...and I don't think we were meant to be nice to others at all..."

"Are your clones trying to kill you? I heard that's what happens to escaped medical experiments and stuff. So what powers did they give you, anyway? And what's RO stand for?"

He's probably going to go insane and try to kill us. No wonder running is so dangerous, every group has one. At least one.
Strangeglove eyes the rest of the group speculatively.

"I do not know...I don't think so... I awoke in a garbage dump, saved by a scavenger who found my discarded cloning tube. From what I can remember, my creators were trying to clone mages for fighting---I do not like violence, which is probably why they threw me away. The first spells I could summon were meant for killing, but Follower---oh, uh, Follower of the Way is my mentor spirit---he helped me mold the magic to more humane and benign results.

"Oh, uh, RO is Rho Omicron, from what the people at the church shelter told me."

Zerone smiles, happy that someone is interested in learning about him. He decides to return the favor.

"If I, uh, might ask, Mr. Strangeglove, what does Strangeglove mean? Is it a real name? Do you wear gloves that are strange?"

The Table
Widget looks over the data as it streams in - noting the list from Fat Man, Strangeglove and Cypher as she gets them. Her face looking between the AR interface she has going and the conversation as it flows around the table.

"I'll say it again - you are all one whacked bunch of runners and I have a broad defination of the word. Any of the rest of you have something specific throw it in so I can get this done."

She grabs with a pinkie, a small window that when tapped twice grows to a good 21" sized window. She slides the smaller captured images from the previous searches, she drags and drops them into the larger window.

"Drumroll please...."

The window takes the data and you see a complex steam of symbols scroll past with her occasionally tapping one here or there. A series of images flash by in rapid succession then the window goes blank and constricts to the size of small 2" square with a single image pulsing in it of a white rabbit. Widget's lights up and she smiles as she taps the icon.

"...the winner is someone named Zuzane or Temple ."

The rabbit swells into a picture of a slim and severe looking woman dressed in fetish wear of some sort - a collar and mostly naked under layers of sheer fabric - photographed coming and going from a club called the Body Bag.

"Looks like the sex doll here was a bodyguard for some mojo slinger rumored to have the backing of someone scaly and powerful but something happened - he disappeared and his power base was ripped to shreds by his magic group."

She looks to the Awakened members with a open curiosity.

"I thought magic groups were a little more tight than that but what the fuck do I know. It seems he had stashes of cash and goods that were never found. It seems she has set up shop as a broker using her former client's rolodex - we assume using said hidden treasures. I have here an address for one of her warehouses in town that looks like it might have some of what you all are looking for."

She grabs a section of text and slides it to a smaller window and sets a search running. The second person looks to be a young woman with a farily open face and somewhat sweet but distracted expression.

"The runner up is someone named Temple but it looks like she worked on a job awhile back were a lot of law enforcement were frankly massacred - they used rocket launchers on them - god damn. It looks like she has a new group she has hooked up with and they have a safehouse in Seattle which has a pretty good chance of having what we're looking for. She looks like a twinkie that can talk but I have met plenpty of folks who like look your sweet cousin Minnie while emptying a clip into the brain pan of hepless security guard. "

She repeats a search with this block of information as the previous window returns a result. She swaps them out and begins to look it over.

"It seems Zuzane's former boss was being investigated in a murder on an underage boy. The theory was that the group were sexual predators of some sort and we're using him in some sort of magical ritual but he vanished before charges could be filed. Is that even possible?"

She looks up again then shakes her head no as the second search concludes. She enlarges it with a pinch and a pull with two fingers.

"Don't answer that - I need to sleep later. Temple apparently also did some sort of tell-all with her former team mates on what was dubbed the Fairlight Masscre - the one where they turned the cops into gooey paste. She hung them all out to dry so no love lost here in the shadows. She seems to be putting out a cover story of "I didn't know they were those kind of criminals". You know, the ones that kill cops. "

She shakes her head in disbelief.

"Give some women a C cup and they ruin it for the rest of us. So folks that's what I have for you in possible targets with what you need."

She claps her hands together and all the windows condense to icons and she leans back to see what the group has to say.

Responding to Zerone, Strangeglove holds up his left hand, the one Widget was cooing over.
The glove itself is unremarkable black leather, but judging by its shape you guess the hand underneath was once in an tumultuous relationship with heavy machinery.

Following Widget's pronouncement, he says, "As much as I like the idea of stealing from someone who's already dead, if Zuzane got this stuff from a dragon, then stealin' from him'd be like stealin' from a dragon, right? An I'm not gonna steal from a dragon. An it sounds like this Temple chick is runnin' without friends, which makes her an easy pick. It's not like she's gonna go bawling to the cops 'Ooh mean runners stole my grenade launchers.'"

In his apartment, Cypher whistles as the data streams across the link. Both of these jobs sounded like they had plenty of promise, but both could blow up in their faces faster than Knight Errant mocked Lonestar cops. Spinning up his data streams, the hacker punches some key word searches as he listens with half an ear to the rest of the conversation.

"I have no problem stealing from the followers of left-hand ways and side doors, or traitors; whichever target is more practical is fine with me."

"I'm good with either honestly, sounds like they can both be fun, even if their is a dragon"

Breeze winks mockingly at Strangeglove

"From the basic description, hidden caches of gear is going to be along our alley. Watching a traitor who hung out to dry a bunch of hackers fall down a flight...or ten...of stairs would be a fun Saturday night if folks are interested, but I'm thinking Zuzane's our girl Friday."

Cypher keeps the data searches going, looking for traces of the events and how they tie back to more current tidings.

Cypher
You receive an alert that your searches are concluded - you tap the icon for the Fairlight Massacre. It balloons into several different data streams in front of you. The first stream is a series of news casts about the event. A runner team apparently tried to hit a manufacturing site for high end cyber decks. You scroll through the reports and quickly see that something went wrong with the job - an explosive charge set to knock out a key communications and power grid didn't go off and Lone Star's wasn't delayed at all in responding to the break in. The runners seemed to have some back up support just in case, which seemed to be local petty criminals with disposable rocket launchers. Scores of LS personnel were killed or seriously injured. They are a host of links to human interest stories about the brave men and women; their families and the aftermath. Lone Star wasted no time in spinning the incident into a PR win - highlighting the nobility and bravery of their employees - a new ad campaign was launched with the slogan "We remember Fairlight. Do you?" focusing on their dedication and commitment to clients.

Looking over the other streams - these ones from darker corners of the matrix - you find a grainy clip of a slim, possibly Elven, woman leaping from the roof of the plant on roller skates of all things. She is wearing a mirrored helmet and unloads two machine pistols into the security below as some force - most likely magic - cushions her fall. There are shots of a few more people - men mostly it seems leaving the site as well. There are postings of Iblis and her crew having bitten off more than they could chew and rumors that they hit the open seas and went to the islands to escape the heat. There is rumors that they retired in style from that run or that Lone Star caught up with them and they are rotting in some corp prison or worse yet being used as lab rats.

Switching to the other search, you watch the icon resolve into a porn blitz. It seems the Body Bag is own by a former fetish porn starlet and queen by the name of Madame Yin. She has done hundreds of movies and made a name for herself in the community which she parlayed into a thriving club in Seattle catering to the fringe. It hosts live shows and stages elaborate parties that blur the line between sex and art. She has been written up in several e-zines for her bold and innovative vision of sex, desire and commercial profit.

One oddity pops up in the mainstream media - a party she hosted apparently was crashed by a group of runners and resulted in several security officers dead and several guests being injured. The news reports claim they were targeted for their high profile guests of the private birthday party. Several tens of thousands of gifts were reported stolen. It seems the next year was a tough one for the club as it worked to shake off the fallout from the event .There is footage from an aerial drone shows a nearly naked woman making short work of the security just outside of the club. Watching her move you are certain she is modded or quite possibly an adept. She moves through the men in SWAT gear like they were standing still. You see her bare foot drive men much larger than herself back several meters as she lashes out in a whirlwind of kicks and she dodges small gun fire like they were flinging bean bags. The footage ends with her throwing a helmet from a down officer into the drone itself. You are fairly sure it's Zuzane.

The shadow boards talk about the bad luck the owner of the Body Bag has suffered at the hands of the community. Madame Yin is rumored to run a higher end whore house and it was hit by runners attempting to collect a mid level Japanese executive from the premises. There was some damage to the actual structure and she suffered a loss in business when the word got out that someone had been scooped up from her place. Reading it over, the poster seems to be asking the runners in the Seattle area to give the place a break since her legit business was then hit shortly after the whore house - possibly leading to the closure of both.

Watching the woman flying off the roof in roller skates, Cypher grits his teeth against the wave of images slamming into him. She's the greatest, she's fantastic. A Stuffer Shack bathroom. SAVE ME!! He'd never met Iblis, how did part of her end up inside his head?

Jump over the candlestick. The voice resonated through the apartment or was it just in his head.

Now wasn't the time to start going crazy. He needed to focus. Cypher guzzled down the rest of the coffee, feeling his tongue burning in pain. The pain drove away the cloud of images until it was just AROs in his workspace. Forwarding the shadow request to Widget, the hacker leaves an open question--Management?

"I've got more details about the Body Bag folks and Zuzane. Fairlight didn't turn up anything useful...nothing about Temple." He forwards the incident footage from the Body Bag to the team.

Cypher also sends several of the spreads on Madame Yin to SG and a note that she'd probably be personally grateful for anyone who took Zuzane down a peg or two.

Zerone's face grows deathly pale as he hears about Zuzane and the rumors surrounding that job.

"Um...either works for me."

Almost as comfortable as Widget and Cypher with the ARO windows, Fleet manges the windows and the information as it floats around, annotating and marking notes, putting all of the data on the Bodybag and Zuzane in a series of cascading windows off to one side.

"It doesn't sound like she's working for the dragon, regardless of her previous affiliations, and while Madam Yin may not be a significant mover-shaker, it never hurts to have someone that is tied into social community at large feeling grateful. It sounds like that would do our double duty of achieving our 'logistical' goals as well as 'helping' people by taking resources out of the hands of someone that has no compunctions about killing cops in front of everyone."

A separate, unseen window is spinning access details on Cypher's account on the hobgoblin's commlink, giving him the necessary controls to send and receive data, but limiting access away from sensitive data, cyberware that wasn't being tied to the sensory input, and limiting controls on the subscribed machines and peripherals. As access for the hacker is granted, there's a quick jaunt through what's obviously a fake, public commlink and into the runner's personal gear. Immediately, a flood of data is fed into the Tactical network. An exterior view of the club, probably from a few thousand feet up is immediately obvious, tied into a drone with a upgraded sensor suite. A smaller drone inside the club, perched on a wall overlooking the table is sending a flood of notices about ARO intrusions on the hobgoblin's network. More geo-tagged locations with included sensor feeds, probably from vehicles or drones scattered around the city, along with another half-dozen full sensor feeds that are currently inactive. Each is tagged with a name probably drawn from the rigger's apparent faith...Zabaniah, Raqib, Atib and the like. Play nice... is tacked on along with the access.

"If that works for you, then, Eklipse, let's all agree to meet somewhere a little more discreet tomorrow and pool together our resources and set out a general plan. I assume, for tonight, we can just enjoy the club?"

Those members of the team that had indicated that they didn't have their own rides will receive requests to allow the rigger access to the the geo-locator services on their commlink, with a note that vehicles will be waiting for them when they leave the club and will be put at their disposal for the duration.

Business apparently concluded, the hobgoblin will relax back, actually order something alcoholic ("Not orthodox," he'll explain with a smile to anyone that looks in askance), and his hair will suddenly become highlighted with a rainbow spread of neon colors, a small token, at least, to the colorful conglomeration visible in the club.

Brreze accepts the geo-locator request.

Cypher
You see a reply come back from Widget.

<<I don't think so - who ever your boss is they seem pretty direct so far.>>

Reading the message, Cypher realizes that Widget can hear the rest of the voices in his head.

<<Sorry, not is she Management, but rather does Management have a stake in her success or failure? I'm hoping these jobs won't reflect badly on us with our mysterious benefactor.>>

Cypher
<<Oh! I didn't even think about that - let me send them a message and see if we get anything back.>>

"I can't keep all this political bullshit straight, but this Yin chick is some sort of high society freak, right? An helpin' folks with money and pull pays off better than just robbin' stiffs, if you're careful. An' let's not forget she's running a whorehouse. An fine, thankfulful whores an' all that, but it's not jus' that. She jus' got knocked over twice, an' is afraid. If we bring back whoever did it, she gets her rep back. An' she'll probably be innerested in hiring some muscle to make her place secure. Think of that guys" — Strangeglove pauses for effect — "Bein' paid to hang around a whorehouse."

The datastreams are starting to give Eklipse a headache, or maybe it is the beer. He swipes the icons from his AR, confirming the mental command with a physical gesture.

"I would prefer to avoid dealing with ze dragons. Vun is already more than enough. But as it seems we would be helping zis lady and if ze data is correct zat ze target is no longer affiliated with ze dragon, then perhaps this one is ze better option. If only for ze 'perks', ja?"

He gives the troll a grin and a salute with his half-empty beer bottle before finishing it off.

Breeze puts a hand on Strangegloves' back and nods

"I know exactly what you mean my friend"

Fat Man doesn't seem either particularly interested in or bothered by the pictures of Madame Yin or Zuzane, and just rolls his eyes at Strangelove and Breeze.

"I think Zuzane sounds like a more promising target. Both of them have enemies, but we have a clearer idea of how to contact hers, and it sounds like her dragon patron is out of the picture."

After seeing the footage, he turns to Cypher's AR display.

"Do you think you can figure out if her skills are natural or not? It would be good to know if she is an adept when making plans."

"Well, in Karl Kombatmage: Kamikaze, he had to rely on his wits and charm when he went to the secret Luna base. Something about magic being really hard. So if we send her to the moon and she still kicks ass, it's all natural."

The Table
An explosive spray of a mixed drink erupts in the air from Widget who literally laughs out loud from Cypher's dry delivery. She scrabbles for napkins - apologizing profusely to any and all who were caught in the blast. As she finishes moping up the mess - she pauses and her eyes take on that disconnected look she has from accessing something from her commlink or perhaps a drone. A brief look of confusion passes over her face as she begins to speak.

"I just got a message from HR and you all have two new hires. A new employee orientation is being set up for you all along with a new office for field work here in Seattle. I'm suppose to get a packet in a few hours which I will pass along to you all. HR apparently talked to Legal and Marketing - they all agree that Zuzane is the target of choice. In fact they have offered a bonus of 5k per person to select her."

She snaps back to her senses and leans back with a thoughtful look on her face.

"Guess you all are back on the clock."

Club, Downtown Seattle:
Looking around the room with eyes as cold and blue as midwinter dawn It was as if he were weighing people in his mind and there was no sign on his face of what the scales told him. The man is dressed in a heavy obviously armored jacket, t-shirt and jeans, and appears to be searching for someone. Not finding it he steps out of the club, he pulls his jacket tight as if he isn’t used to the cool temperatures hops on his Suzuki and heads out.

Jon’s Apartment:
Stepping into his apartment his eyes gloss over the mess all over the floor, lightly touching the cement blocks he practices hand to hand combat on. With a heavy sigh, Jon pulls the twin Ares out of the concealed holsters and drops them next to the Alpha w/underbarrel grenade Launcher. Jon steps into the bathroom takes out his contacts, looking into the mirror at his slitted iris, and his reflection in his eyes, he wonders why he is in Seattle. Crawling into bed, he looks at a picture of him and a well-dressed woman at a function. With a smile Jon falls asleep the picture dropping from his hand to the ground.