"Right now, all I'm asking for is silence and an open ear."

"Go."

"I will hear you now."

Warpath watched the woman intently as she rose. His vision outlined her in various digital resolutions and displayed multiple profiles in thermal and contour renditions. The temptation to linger in the beatiful dance of the electronics was strong, but he shut the vision modes down one by one until only regular vision remained.

He listened intently to her speech, or her speech about not giving a speech. When she finished and the others had said their pieces, Warpath noded. "You know our reps, and we know yours. Ten grand is more than sufficient to hear you out under the circumstances."

He said it plainly, though his thoughts were on what might befall those with knowledge of the plans who decided to walk. Ten grand was enough for a short vacation, which would be necessary if he turned the job down. No sense in hanging around Seattle waiting for someone to pick him up for questioning.

Ol' Scratch was leaning back in his chair as he waited for the meeting to start. While chewing on a toothpick he snagged somewhere between the front door and the table, his eyes scanned over this sundry group of riff-raff. Whenever eye contact was made, he'd just flash a roguish smile and give a polite nod. But when his sight fell on Onna, he gave a noticable pause.

Catching the wooden frame of the table with one of his hooves, he leaned further back in his chair until he was dangerously close to falling on his ass. He tried to make it look subtle, but his preoccupation with Oona's body was pretty blatant.

It wasn't until Miss Young made her offer that he sat up straight and looked her over, too.

"Great," he thought to himself, "here I am in a swanky steak house being offered ten grand just to hear some slitch make a real deal proposition, and the only thing I have on my mind is tail envy over some freak of nature. Real professional, kiddo. Real profesional.

"But hey, at least this Young skirt seems to be honest in her sincerity. It's obvious she's a bit nervous, but there's something hopeful about her, too. 'Sides, if she's throwing ten G's at each of us just to hear the real offer, it's gotta be something fun. Especially with the amount of chrome and mojo she's gathered at the table tonight."

He sneaked in a quick look at Silk and Ayo in particular before flashing yet another devestatingly charming grin at Miss Young. "As long as dinner's free, count me in."

"Please proceed."

Onna fights the urge to squirm under Ol' Scratch's stare. At least now I know what I have been smelling. She continues to take in the complex blend of scents filling the room. Her curiosity is peaked by the masked male and his altered scent, she can't quite place it. It shifts between man and something more primal. The room clearly contains alphas and predators aplenty.

Shadow smiles at the offer. He waits to hear what others say, though he is sure that it will be yes. "I came to work, and unless the job is completly insane I can make a reasonable assurance to you that I wil take it. 10K up front is more than enough to gaurentee my silence on this matter." His eyes catch the interesting play between the goat and the japanese women. Some kind of rut they got going on. The way their nose twitch ever so slightly makes me glad I had my scent glands tailored to leave no trace.

Miss Young simply nods, you gather that she expected nothing less, but wanted to make things nice and clear. This job is the highest level of Top Secret and shes letting you all in on the big secret.

"Right. For some time now, the Draco Foundation has been receiving troubling reports and rumors concerning Ares. At first we dismissed them as rubbish, but more and more of our agents have been confirming them. Ares is using Bugs."

She pauses for a moment to let that sink in...

"Your job will be to check out a research facility that, if you follow the food chain, is owned by Ares. The Elves out in Tarislar have been hiring KE for several years to give them extra security out in an area where the Star tries to stay out of. About a year ago, Ares made a deal with the governor and purchased an old building in an 'out of the way' location to do some research on cybernetics and magic. Security is in house. Thats right, in house... not Knight Errant. Although, they do have a contract with KE for HTR. What they DO have are Bugs. Granted, none of this is confirmed yet. Thats where you come in... I want you to break into the facility, get whatever intel you can, and bring it home."

Onna shifts her attention to Ms. Young. "Are we to bring a bug back?"

Without so much as batting an eye, Ol' Scratch is quick to respond almost before Young has a chance to get past the first use of the word 'bug.'

"I'm in."

"No, do not bring one back. The more of them you can kill the better. If you can get pictures, or even better, data off their security network, that should do fine."

Warpath nodded stoicly as well. "I'm in as well. If we do this right, I'm guessing we'll not have to worry about the bugs themselves..." He gives a lopsided grin, "But, just in case, anyone know where to get a metric ton of bug spray?"

"Not a problem." There's a hint of something almost tenacious in the curt responses the satyr is giving.

Onna waits for a moment to open, not wanting to talk over anyone present. "I will help you do this." Her tone is sincere and firm.

"Just so I'm clear on what you're asking: you want us to retrieve pictures and, if possible data, from their security network detailing the presence of bug spirits and their uses for them in their research, as well as attempting to engage and destroy the bug spirits?"

:: Silk breathes in sharply, but recovers just as fast. She had never run up against Bugs, but they had left their mark on Sven. In some ways, she attributed his betrayal to the trauma he'd experience in New Orleans. ::

:: With a grave nod, she absently strokes the pendant around her neck ::

"Are you with me in this, Rus? I have a feeling you understand even more than I do the danger...."

Immortal arrives to the Steakhouse on foot. He'd spent the afternoon talking shop with Jimmy at the Tacoma Gunshow, and had taken the bus back uptown. The consideration crossed his mind, as he walked up the block, that this might be the kind of place that doesn't take kindly to patrons packing heat.

Frag them.

The Guardian was concealed under his jacket for a reason. So nosey people didn't whine about it. He could care less about a target seeing it, hell, that might help.

Stepping up to the entrance of the steakhouse, Immortal looks the digs over, and grunts. High class scum. Then again, who is he to pass up a real steak?

Father has been silent up until now, only nodding to indicate that he was willing to listen to Ms. Young's story. At the mention of bugs his eyebrows come up, but other than that he remains relatively stoic.

Waiting for a lull in the conversation, he steps in to begin grilling the Ms. Young with a few questions. Ignoring the normal rules of etiquette, he just plows through his questions as his mind works faster than his mouth. "You mentioned getting data off of their security network. As that is my specialty, I have a few questions to that end. Firstly, are you aware of external matrix access or will I be required to enter with the rest of the team? Secondly, you say that their security is in house, does that include matrix security? If not, are you aware of whether or not their security is based off of the Ares Iconography? Lastly, and this counts for us all, what cover can the Draco Foundation provide us in the form of misdirection of authorities, equipment, and so on or is this to be entirely, if you'll excuse the cliche, in the shadows?"

In his mind Shadow carefully analysed the statements of each runner. As always Grendel was concerned about tactical matters, something Shadow admired about the grim elf. The two women seemed eager, even if they didn't show it, to help. Must have something against bugs. A slight shudder worked it's way up his spine, a dim memory on a cold night of what several women possessed by mantis spirits had done to a Go-Go gang that thought they were an easy target.

The one calling himself Father seemed wise, he must be considering how old he was, asking questions before blindly accepting was a sign of that. Scratch was probably just looking for a fight, he seemed the type. Good thing to, 'cause the type tended to be able to handle themselves. Lastly was the late comer Immortal, and the chromed warrior, Warpath. Both seemed more than competent and completely capable. Shadow doubted that this was the 'best' Seattle had to offer, flattery was a common tactic among Johnsons, but he felt they were definitely of the best. For the time being he remained quiet and watchful.

"I'm in."

His voice was almost flat, his acceptance seemed so much less emotional then some of the others, it made him wonder. It was another job, perhaps a bit more dangerous then most, but it would undoubtably pay well. A few others almost sounded like they were signing up for a personal crusade.

@grendel

"Exactly."

@Silk

The spirit warms around your neck, "I am always with you, but yes, this is a great danger. Likely the most threatening you've seen. Ever. But if what the woman says is true, this threat needs to be delt with..."

@Father

Miss Young takes in the questions without fluster and answers, "Its a closed network, so you'll need to go in. We dont know anything about their internal network. We'll do what we can to provide you with equipment you may need, within reason. But our name can't be assosiated with this mission, so beyond equipment support, you'll be on your own."

:: With a soft smile, she lifts her head and locks eyes with Miss Young. ::

"How negotiable is your offer?"

"How does ninty thousand each, on top of the ten you get for showing up, sound?"

"Most acceptable. You have secured my services."

Wow, I guess the offer is serious. "That's a generous proposal. But like you said, we are the best. So one of two things are going to have to happen. You are going to have to come up, or your going to have to pay us in advance. Trust me when I say this is not going to be a walk in the park. So I want some assurances that regardless of wether I come back or not, certain things are taken care of."

She considers for a moment.

"How about if I give you half up front and an extra twenty five if you are able to take out all the bugs they have there?"

Warpath whistles softly. "Twenty five for a bug hunt? I'd rather just have the hundred for the data and leave you to clean out the warren..." He doesn't look thrilled at the prospect of close quarters fighting with spirits, and insect spirits at that.

His composure broken by the amount provided by Ms. Young, Father whistles slightly. Glancing at the night one when he makes a counter offer, he thinks to himself, Got a set, that one does ....

As the others struggle to come to their descision, some deciding quickly, others spending more time in thought, Father begins to tape his cyberhand on the table absently. He scratches his moustache for a moment, before nodding suddenly and turning to Ms. Young, "What kind of time frame are you looking for?"

Once more details started flying around the room, Ol' Scratch pulled out an old-fashioned notepad and mechanical pencil and started scribbling some personal notes for the job. The only thing he doesn't seem to show even a passing interest in is the negotiations for the run.

Instead, he was casually browsing through a detailed copy of Patterson's Guide to the Paranormal in the back of his mind, scratching down a few ideas for gear the group might need if this job turns out to be the real deal.

"We don't want to rush you, but at the same time, the quicker the better. Use your judgement."

"Ok, so 45k upfront plus the 10k for showing. Another 45 on the back-end plus a quarter bonus for eliminating all the bugs. I can live with that. I will take mine now. UCAS dollars, twenties and fifties if you don't mind. Once I see that you can deliver the money, I'm in." Shadow leans back with a pleasent smile on his face.

"Cash? Alright. You'll have to excuse me for a while to go get it, in the mean time, enjoy dinner on me."

She stands and pauses to see if anyone else has anything for her.

With a bit of a disgruntled look in Drizzt's direction, Scratch looks up at Miss Young before flipping his notebook to another page, scribbling something down, and ripping it off to hand it to her.

He has yet to say anything else.

:: Now that business has bee halted, Silk smiles and lifts the menu, looking for the options available to her. Her tastes are hardly satisfied with the soy she eats and enjoys any oppotrunity to indulge in the finer things in life. ::

"I'm starving!"

:: Turning, she sees the waitress standing quietly by the door and signals her over. ::

"Ok, I'd like to start with the stuffed mushrooms with a garden salad. Blue cheese dressing if you have it. Then, I'd like the the filet mingnon with red potatoes and a red wine, but only with dinner. Do you have any Pinot Noir? Perfect."

:: Looking up, she expectantly looks to the rest of the group gathered as the waitress finishes her notations. ::

Miss Young takes the note from Scratch and reads it. Her eyes go a bit wide in shock for a moment, then she looks at him and gives a single nod.

Scratch's ears perk back when he hears Silk ordering. Despite the delectable assault of everything the steakhouse had to offer, he had completely forgotten about dinner ever since Young mentioned the bugs.

"You and me both, sister," he replies with his drink-ruined voice. He picks up the menu and cocks back in his seat a bit while he peruses it. "I'll take the coconut-beer battered shrimp with a side of baked goat cheese as an appetizer. After that you can hook me up with, ooh, one of these 24-oz porterhouses with a parmessan and peppercorn crust and two orders of home fries. I'll letcha know if I'm still hungry after that."

The waitress jotted the order down before asking, "and how would you like your steak, sir?"

"Blood rare and jumping off the plate."

More jotting. "And what would you like to drink?"

"Two Chango beers. If you don't have Chango, Oatman's. If you don't have Oatman's, Brakspear. If you don't Brakspear, just bring me anything you have outside of the piss the megacorps pipe out."

Shadow chuckles at Silk's expression. "You are correct of course, fuel is needed. A bottle of chatue Bordeaux, whatever your oldest vintage is. To start I would like a the house salad with chicken, for the main course a filet mingnon, excellent choice," he says out of the corner of his mouth to Silk, "and some blueberry cheesecake for desert."

Having already given his affirmation at the lower rate, he certainly was not about to argue with the potential bonus.

He waits for the suit to leave, glancing around the restuarant.

:: As the waitress moves around the table, taking down the various orders, Silk leans forwards and offers a pleasant smile to the assembly. ::

"So...are you all local?"

Ol' Scratch flips his notebook closed and slips it back in his jacket.

"For the most part. I only got back in town a couple of weeks ago after spending a couple months up North. It's good to be back, though. How about you?"

Miss Young heads out to collect your funds, leaving the group to their own conversation.

:: Silk looks over at the Satyr. ::

"A native of Boston originally, but I moved here..."

:: With a subtle glance at the waitress, she smiles a bit. ::

"...on business about 3 years ago. Not that bad actually. If you stay away from the slums, the climate here is really rather pleasant. I can honestly say I don't miss the winters of Boston. The business opportunities are about the same as any metroplex that I've been too, except of course Denver. With so many territories butting up against each other, there are many opportunities to be had."

Warpath picks out the largest steak on the menu and orders a pair of them, medium rare. He nods politely to the others and settles in, mostly listening. As the small talk starts up, he nods to Silk's question. "I guess I'm local these days. Originally from down south." By the slight twang to his English, it's pretty apparent that he doesn't mean Atzlan.

"Can't say I don't hate the weather in this fraggin' city, though."

Scratch just blanches a bit. "Don't get me started on Denver. Some of the most fragged up drek I ever saw went down at that drekhole. Vowed I'd never go back there again if I had anything to say about it."

Father smiles at the waitress as he gives his order. She, however, looks oddly back at him, "Sir, are you sure you want only a large house salad?" He nods. "Anything to drink?" He response, "Just water, please. Cold, with ice and some lemon?" She agrees, a bit boggled -- a vegetarian in a steakhouse makes about as much sense as a decker with out a jack.

In response to Silk's question, "I have been here for many years -- since the mid 40s. Before that, I was in Baltimore, but I left there shortly after the Crash."

:: Her eyes remain on the Satyr for a moment. ::

"I agree. Denver, though rife with opportunities, is also one of the most dangerous places I've ever been. I was lucky to only have a single job that took me that way, the price would have to be better than tonights to get me to go back."

:: Glancing to Warpath, she laughs a good natured and true laugh. ::

"Ah...the rain is good for you. I swear, it's the only thing keeping this city looking as clean as it is. Then again, Im a bit odd that way...the rain remindes me of my past, and for that reason, I enjoy it. It also makes the sun that much more welcome when he shines his face down."

:: She raises an eyebrow at Father's order and nods at his statement. ::

"Where you in the market during the crash? It was before my time, but I know it changed many people's lives. Most for the worst I'm afraid. Was that the cause of your move, or just coincidence?"

"So," Scratch asks, letting his chair fall back onto all four legs. "Who gets to start with the formal introductions?"

:: Grins dangerously. ::

"I believe you just volunteered."