Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:03 PM, July 31st, 2075

Watching as the Lone Star officers approach the stage, Drave considers making his way forward towards the stage; but both his discipline and experience remind him to stay in position. At this point, anything could happen; and the crowd was becoming no less agitated as they watched the law enforcement personnel, traditionally absent in their lives, descend on the very people they came hear to see. Dies ist nicht sehr gut, he thought to himself, becoming more concerned with these downtrodden people's reaction to this spectacle than he was with Lone Star's.

Hearing Amy's message regarding Chomsky's surprise, he quickly sent a response.

<<@Team[Overkill]: Copy that. I am hanging back, keeping watch over the crowd. Amy, whatever happens, just stay with Chomsky. If they arrest him, you walk him all the way to the cruisers. From there, Grease can tail them from here to the station with one of his Fliegegeheimagents. We can't make the first move here, we just have to wait and be ready for the worst.>>

Lets hope it doesn't come to that...

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075

As the officers approach the stage, Greeley talks into the mic once again. "Remain calm, everyone. I'm not sure what this is about, but I'm sure we can take care of this quickly and quietly, and then get back to our rally."

The officers mount the stage, and Greeley and Chomsky move toward them. Amy remains nearby, able to over hear the conversation. "Ms. Greeley, Mr. Chomsky, we have a warrant for your arrest."

Greeley looks taken aback, Chomsky equal bits disappointed and surprised. "What? On what charge?" asks Greeley.

One of the officers takes the microphone out of her hand, while the other takes out two pairs of restraints. "Possession and intent to distribute illegal narcotics." Chomsky and Greeley both say, "What?!" While the other officer, turns on the AR equipment and has himself appear where Greeley was a moment ago. Unlike the friendly elf's face, his armored, visored form looks like the specter of death above the crowd.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. We are here to arrest Ms. Greeley and Mr. Chomsky on drug charges. This rally is over. Please disperse and go back to your homes."

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075


"Oh Wunderbar..." Drave breathed to himself, knowing the crowd wasn't going to respond well to this development.

<<@Amy[Overkill]: Tell Chomsky to ask to see that warrant; we need to know if it was signed by Bradshere.>>

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075

Frag, frag, frag, frag, frag. Blast them to hell! This is part of the whole conspiracy, isn't it? I can't let this happen.

Amy was hesitant about intervening, uncertain what to do. Overkill's message gave her both courage and purpose. She walked immediately onto the stage and near the two officers and the two activists being wrongfully arrested. "They want to see that warrant!" She said loudly enough to be easily heard.

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075

Drek drek drek drek

Scanning the crowd, Grease gets the sense that this is only going to end one way; badly. he sends a quick message to Overkill, and prepares to start some trouble by the parking lot to distract the police.

<<@Overkill, Amy [Grease]: Presume communications monitored. Contact Johnson, determine if arrest is legit or off the books.>>

I'm going to have to light up a fraking cop car to get us out of this mess...

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075

The officer speaking to the crowd pulls turns to Amy, shutting off the AR projector. His expression is hidden behind his visor, and after a few seconds he turns back to Greeley and Chomsky

He puts up an ARO for them to see the warrant. He motions to the other officer, who pulls Greeley's hands behind her back and secures them.

The first officer motions at the warrant. "Satisfied?" motioning for Chomsky to put his hands behind his back. "Let's get this over with Chomsky. We can discuss this down at the station. If we stay here too much longer your friends out there in the crowd might get restless, and I'd hate to see them start eating lead."

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075

Amy had sworn to herself that she would protect Chomsky and that other woman, but at the same time she was afraid. Searching for a spiritual answer to her dilemma, she remembered the dream-advice of her mentor; she was not going to let anything happen to those who needed her protection. Not on my watch.

With determination, she managed to reply to the Lone Star officer. "No I'm not satisfied, wage-slave." She was getting pumped up. "If anyone gets shot, you two will be the first two to go down." And she meant that. "You can't just arrest people on trumped up charges like this." By now she was yelling. "And we won't let you!"

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075

The officer with the warrant shut down the ARO with a thought, then steps in between Amy and Chomsky. His left hand comes up toward her, palm outward, while his right hand goes to his hip, and then relaxes.

"Back off girl. We're here to take these two, but I can easily add you to the tally."

Greeley and Chomsky are arguing with the other officer, who is putting cuffs on Chomsky. "There must be some mistake, officer. We are here to get rid of drugs in this community, not spread them", says Greeley.

"Not my problem. I serve the warrants, I don't write 'em. Hands behind your back."

The crowd is getting restless, but the Rotodrones begin to swoop in and around. A speaker on one of the drones starts to repeat the message, "Disperse. We are in the middle of an arrest. Disperse." The crowd does not seem pleased, but in the face of the automatic weapons seems unwilling to be the first to start something. A few cowardly (or perhaps wiser) souls near the edge of the field are moving off across the bridges.

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075

"You're gonna regret this."

Amy calls back her bound spirit from his slumber, "Get ready." As soon as the officer either turns his back or walks away from Amy, she sends a subvocal message to the rest of the team.

<<@Grease, Overkill [Amy's subvocal] I'm gonna take down the drones. Might not be perfect. Make sure Chomsky stays safe.>>

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075


Watching in disbelief as Amy made her stand, Drave was already on the burner comm, trying to contact Ramirez.

<<@Ramirez[ChurchFriends]: Need info on Warrants being served at Horseshoe Park; ASAP. Need to know if Bradshere issued them for two activists named Chomsky and Greeley.>>

As he sent the message, Drave prepared to block Lone Star's communications if and when they called for backup.

<<@Team[Overkill]: Sending a comm to the Johnson. Grease, be ready to provide cover if Amy makes her move. >>

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075

Amy subvocalized while following closely Chomsky, Greeley and the two policemen.

<<@Grease, Overkill [Amy's subvocal] Be ready to jump into action. Overkill, you got maybe 10 seconds to do what you can.>>

Then in the astral, she instructed the two spirits who were under her command. "There are 4 Lone Star drones hovering over the crowd. When I tell you, I want you to disable them as quickly as possible, while preventing casualties in the crowd we're trying to protect. The two Lone Star policemen in full armor are to be knocked unconscious afterwards unless I tell you to stop, and once again don't harm anyone else. Ready?"

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075


Drave knew he needed more time.

<<@Team[Overkill]: 10 Seconds? I need a little more time if we don't want them calling in the cavalry. Can you stall them for just a few more moments?>>

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075


Drave raced in his AR trying to find the links of the Lone Star crew, but failed to find one Icon of the one who spoke. Why would the arresting officer's commlink be running silent?

<<@Team[Overkill]: Amy, if you decide you must act, you need to take down the one you spoke to first, his Comm is running silent.>>

Drave resolved to continue his task, he couldn't let that call get out.

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075

<<@Grease, Overkill [Amy's subvocal]: I dunno if I'll be fast enough. Any moment now.>>

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075


Something puzzled Drave at that moment, even for the Nuyen scrimping Lone Star, this was one light crew to arrest 2 speakers at a large public rally.

<<@Team[Overkill]: There is something wrong here; 2 cars and a drone squadron seem pretty light for a Lone Star crew to arrest 2 speakers at a rally with hundreds of people. If I were serving a warrant at an event like this, I would have sent at least a dozen cars, and a SWAT team to back them up. It doesn't add up. What if these guys aren't even Lone Star?>>

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075

<<@Grease, Overkill [Amy's subvocal]: Yeah I thought about that too. But we'll have to get out fast regardless. You know, the security will call the cops whatever we do. Grease, get ready to get us out of here.>>

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075

As the officers moved off the stage toward their cars, the team began to put their plan into action. Amy followed along behind them, trying to keep them within sight. Overkill began to press his way through the throng, using his forearms and elbows to help propel him through the crowd. Grease, in the meantime, his drones recording everything from above, closed his eyes and moved his senses over to Rhex, feeling the gravel under his tires, feeling the click of the safety off his assault rifle like cracking his knuckles.

The officers were getting closer and closer to the cars, their heads swiveling in all directions as they made sure that none of Cruz Security or the other attendees were making any sudden moves. I have to act now. Amy sent out her command to her spirits, "Now, Great Ones, attack!" Instantly her bound Spirit of Man appeared, its giant form materializing in the night sky. It took the form of a giant armored warrior, with a blazing sword in each hand.

Her command to the spirits complete, she turned her gaze skyward and, locating the form of a Rotodrone above the crowd, held her hands above her head, a ball of incandescent fire glowing between them, and launched it at the nearest drone. The ball shot skyward and slammed into the drone, sparks flying in all directions. The drone wobbled a bit in the sky, but did not fall. At the top of her lungs, Amy yelled, "Help me save Chomsky! Stop the cops, there's only two of them!"

The first to react were the drones. As one, they turned and began spraying the spirit with bullets. A storm broke over Horseshoe Park, with muzzle flashes for lightning, and the crack of bullets breaking the sound barrier for thunder. The spirit was inhumanely fast, and supernaturally tough, but even so was unable to avoid the incoming fire. The spirit roared in agony as it was pierced by a dozen bullets, each one making the spirit a little less tangible, as its link to the physical world was disrupted.

Grease, seeing the danger of the amassed firepower, switched his sensors to active targeting, the drone nearest him now causing a throbbing feeling behind his eyeballs. He could feel where the drone was, even if he wasn't looking at it. Even as Grease prepared to fire, a wind swept across the park, and a swirling cloud, dancing with electricity came into being. It was Amy's other spirit leaving the Astral and preparing to engage the drones.

Not all of the action was in the sky, however. The crowd began to scream and scatter in all directions, smaller and weaker metahumans knocked to the ground by the rest of the throng and trampled underfoot. Chomsky, acting on impulse, threw himself into Greeley, knocking her to the ground. One of the two officers looked completely taken off-guard, and barely managed to draw his pistol in his confusion.

The other officer, however, turned with one fluid motion, acquired his target, pulled and fired. No hesitation, no mercy. The bullet struck Amy center mass, punching through the armored vest she wore, the round fragmenting inside her chest, dropping her to the ground. Overkill yelled "Amy!" but his voice was completely swallowed up by the din around him. Unable to reach his friend, he lashed out at the only ones he could, the drones overhead.

<<Overkill's winged form, normally black, was now streaked through with red as his rage at his friend's injury permeated through him. With a flourish, twin throwing axes appeared, one in each hand, and he hurled them simultaneously through the air. Each axe struck deep into the drones, their virtual metal shrieking as they ripped apart.>>

Overkill's physical vision saw the two drones start to drop to the ground, slowly at first, but then gathering speed...

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075

With its two brethren dropping from the sky, one of the drones opened up again, slowing its rate of fire as its aim was already starting to be unsteady due to the recoil of the dozens of rounds it was pumping out toward the spirit. Now that it wasn't under attack from four different directions, the spirit dodged the bullets contemptuously, moving through them as if they were in slow motion. In retaliation, it mimicked Amy's previous attempt at casting a spell, and its own ball of energy struck the drone causing half of the lights along the left side to blow out in a shower of coruscating sparks.

Back on the ground, Grease surged into action, determined to put himself between Amy and harm's way. Well, put Rhex in between her and harm's way, at any rate. Sighting down on the man who had put her down, he chewed through a small portion of his ammo feed, watching in dismay as the bullets pinged off of the armor like rain until one seemed to catch a weak point, making the man grunt in pain. Grease didn't have much time to enjoy it, as he had to quickly accelerate to avoid the returning gunfire. The man had jumped over the trunk of the car, and put a bullet so close to Rhex that Grease winced as he could feel the paint peel away from where the bullet passed.

Overkill, closer to the stage now, tried to repeat his trick from before, with less successful results.

<<Overkill watched as the 1s and 0s flowed down his arm, forming again into twin throwing axes. He released them towards his targets, and while the one axe struck down its target, the jackbooted thug of a police officer's persona, the other one missed. The axe flew through the air, before returning to Overkill, but the 1s and 0s were corrupted by the enemy's firewall, so instead of landing in his hand, the blade buried itself in his thigh.>>

Verdamnt! I couldn't knock down.. The rest of that thought was lost as a lightning bolt worthy of Zeus streaked across the sky as Amy's spirit finally got into the action. The drone sizzled for a moment, and then dropped like a stone, smashing to the ground and exploding among the crowd, injuring dozens of people. The other two drones, in the meanwhile, their descent at least slowed by their rotors, landed with less catastrophic results, one in the stream to the east, the other crashing into the parking lot, wrecking an empty car.

Amy, meanwhile, was in no position to admire her spirit's handiwork. Coughing up blood, she reached out to the spirit of Air. "Thraha, please hide us." She staggered to her feet, and half ran, half fell to the nearest car, throwing herself behind it.

The last remaining drone, seeing its chance, lines up a shot against the Spirit of Man. The single shot catches the spirit from behind, passing through its skull. The warrior shrieks its rage once, and then fades from view, leaving a momentary afterimage in the onlookers' vision, as if they had looked at the sun.

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075

Gritting her teeth against the pain, Amy struggled into a sitting position, her back against the wheel-well of the Ford Americar she had ducked behind. Slowly she struggled to raise her head above the trunk, still trying to help out her friends despite her injuries. She managed to peek out and catch a glimpse of the two Lone Star officers, but they seemed too preoccupied to notice her. In the sky above her, Thraha ceased its attack on the drones, and reached out to Amy and her companions, making them more difficult to pick out from the background of chaos at the park.

Grease, in the meantime, drove his Doberman across the parking lot, zigging and zagging each pothole and bump hitting him like a punch in the gut. Careening to avoid a volunteer running away from the violence, he pulled up behind an old GMC Bulldog. The truck had a banner progclaiming "Rebuilding Together and you - We can do Miracles" - but the happy tone of the banner was ruined as it reflected back light from the sirens, the heat from the burning drones, and the screams from the crowd. Inching forward to get a clean shot at the cops, he backed up a second before a round whizzed through the space he occupied a moment before. Frak! He edged forward again, his sensors picking up the other cop, the one who wasn't trying to put a hole in him, grabbing Greeley by both arms, yanking her to her feet, and dragging her to the car.

Overkill, meanwhile, was fighting his own battle inside the Matrix.

<<Leaving the one remaining drone to the mercy of Amy's spirit, the angelic form swept upward on powerful wings, looking around toward the Lone Star troopers to find their weapon icons. The one dragging Greeley to the car had his gun in his right hand, struggling to hold it and Greeley at the same time, and its icon showed up brilliantly in the night sky to Overkill's sight. Looking around, Overkill could not see the other officer at all, either his gun or his persona. Frustrated, he settled on his next course of action.>>

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075

"Thraha, save our friends, we can't let them be taken!" Amy reached out urgently to her spirit, and the glowing spirit of air responded. Diving downward, it stopped several meters above the Lone Star officer holding Greeley and let loose a bolt of lightning that blew the two of them off of their feet. The body armor that the officer was wearing did almost nothing to stop the energy, and he screamed as his body was cooked from the inside out. Greeley yelled as well, the brief contact with the bolt enough to fling her a half dozen feet and give her burns along any exposed skin.

The other officer, didn't even look at his fallen comrade, but continued to focus on the threat he could handle, the infuriating drone. Adjusting his aim to account for Grease's dexterous handling of the controls, he sent a single bullet into Rhex, the slug tearing through the armor before exploding in among the circuitry that housed the faithful drone's brain.

In his car half a football field away, Grease felt the bullet enter his body, and screamed in agony as the biofeedback sent jolts of energy through his nervous system. Capillaries in his nose and and ears opened, and blood trickled down his face and neck. Grease felt himself yanked from Rhex, losing contact with the robot for the last time and he slammed back into his body. His meat eyes opened, blurry and his head rang like a bell, and he was only vaguely aware of where he was.

The cop, however, lost no time gloating. In almost the same motion as he fired, he opened the passenger door and jumped inside. The car immediately began to pull away, the roar of the engine loud in Amy's ears. Chomsky rolled out of the way just in time as the car almost ran him over on its way out of the parking lot.

<<Recovering from his earlier failure, Overkill caused the axe buried in his thigh to dissipate, the 1s and 0s forming a patch over his leg, even as his hands came together, and a long spear came into being in his hand. Holding it aloft as if to catch some of the lightning generated by the air spirit, twin beams of energy shot out from its tip to strike both the fleeing car and the last drone. Both device icons began to melt under the withering energy pouring out of him, and he knew it was only a matter of time before both devices shut down.>>

With the immediate danger to Chomsky and Greeley ended, the spirit turned to the last surviving tormentor, the drone, flew directly toward it, engulfing it in its deadly embrace, the streams of electricity coursing through the cloud completely overwhelming the circuitry of the flier, and it too, dropped to explode on the ground.

As the drone crashed to the ground, the patrol car began to accelerate out of the parking lot...

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075

As the police car accelerated out of the parking lot and down the street, Amy gathered her strength and launched one last ball of electricity at the car. Her wounds caused her to misjudge the timing, however, and the ball veered several meters to the right. It still caught the police car, but the edge of the blast strayed too close to a group of civilians running away from the gunfight, and the explosion of energy knocked all of them from their feet like ninepins.
The car itself swerved to the left, and almost hit a parked car, but the driver yanked it back at the last second and kept it moving, turning the corner onto South Kittredge.

Grease, shaking his head to clear it, jumped into the BMW, feeling it start to move as Overkill gave its dog brain some basic instructions. The now-blonde elf was running towards him, attempting to jump into the vehicle, and Grease had to slow down a little bit, the oil pumping through the engine like his blood racing, eager to catch up with their attackers.

Grease popped open the passenger door as Overkill approached, <<@Overkill [Grease] GET IN GET IN GET IN! >>

Amy half stumbled, half ran over to the supine form of the Lone Star Officer. Drawing her knife from its sheathe at her ankle, she held it up to his neck as she raised the visor. The face that greeted her was one very similar to her own. An elf, young - no more than his early twenties, blonde hair and blue eyes - although it was hard to tell eye color, since the eyeballs were cooked from the spirit's lightning bolt. Just in case, she kept the knife in place as she searched his body with the other hand, finding the keys to the handcuffs.

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075

Looking down on the officer who's probable death would be her fault, Amy decided she had to check if he was really dead. Her fingers were trembling from her own injuries, and she was very sweaty. Drek this isn't sweat, it's my own blood!! High on adrenaline, there was no way to calm down enough to feel a pulse in the officer's neck.

Well is he really an officer from Lone Star anyway? she wondered. Going through what's on his person, she found his badge, a pepper spray, and his commlink. She turned that thing off and put both the link and the badge inside her bag, to have them checked later. At the same time, she sent a message to the rest of the team. <<@Grease, Overkill [Amy's voice] I need a car to get the hell out of here. Gonna untie Greeley and Chomsky, maybe they have their own car.>>

With keys in hand, she rushed to Greeley and Chomsky and freed them of the restraints. "Fight's over, but we can't stay here for long." That much was obvious. "Friends are gonna come pick us up soon, do you have your own cars?"

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075


Examining the situation, Drave realized a chase right now would be futile. Amy was badly hurt, and Grease didn't look like he was doing much better. The crowd was fleeing the scene in a panic, and most of the Cruz personnel were following suit.

<<@Grease[Overkill]: Calm down, Meine Freund , Amy is hurt, and our job here is to keep Chomsky and Greeley safe. We can't leave them here. We need to collect our gear and get them to a location we can secure.>>

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:05 PM, July 31st, 2075

Sending one of his Fly-Spy's in pursuit of the fleeing cruiser, Grease was not confident it could keep up with the speeding vehicle. The crowd is still screaming and running through the parking lot, like a balloon that burst and had it's gas spread out equally. He jacked out of VR and shook his head, bleeding freely from the nose, ears, and tear ducts. After a moment he comes to his senses, and nods quickly at Overkill, talking to him through the window of the car.

"Fine; let's get them all in the car and bail. RHex got shot out from under me; let's see if there's anything salvageable. We should grab one of the rotodrones too if they're in decent shape; we may be able to learn something from one after examining it."

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:06 PM, July 31st, 2075


As Amy took the restraints off of Chomsky, he seemed unable to decide who to try and comfort first, Amy with the gaping chest wound, still leaking blood, or Greeley who had 2nd degree burns all along her hands and face. He hesitate, looking around at the chaos around him, and replied, "I...I don't, but Shannon does. It is over there." He pointed to a dark green Americar about 30 meters away. "Amy, thank you... I.. are you going to be okay?" He looked shell shocked at the burning wreckage of the drones, and the screaming populace fast disappearing into the night.

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:06 PM, July 31st, 2075

Amy had been in fights and had been wounded before, so she knew she had suffered a serious injury. "I'll.. I'll be all right Chomsky," she weakly reassured him. "We gotta get moving now, come on." And she went towards the green car.

At the other end of the parking lot, she notices that her team didn't chase the last guy and she was disappointed. We'll have to discuss all of this later. Doesn't matter, for now we need extra muscle. She stopped briefly and quickly concentrated on calling another astral being into service, one with great physical capabilities. Moments later, a nasty-looking clawed gorilla showed up in the astral. "Ready to serve." Amy nodded to him. This all looked like she had suddenly stopped in her tracks for a second, just to nod at nothing in particular, and resumed walking. But it was okay, shamans were known to be strange at times. "I want you to move quickly around the park, find four drones that fell from the sky, and bring them here as quickly as possible."

As the spirit materialized a few paces away, Amy told those near her and communicated it through commlink as well: "Don't worry, that's a friend of mine, like the others." Saying that, she felt sad for the lost spirit. It wasn't in her habbit to put them in harms way to the point where they are disrupted. She knew the suffering it must have endured. I will try to atone for this in the future.

When Grease and Overkill come towards her, she first thanks them. "Good job out there. We wouldn't have made it without you. Rhex.. saved my life. The big guy over there is gathering the downed drones for you, Grease. I hope you'll be able to salvage some of them and cover your loss."

"What do we do with that guy? I'm not sure if he's alive, but we might want to put our hands on his armor." She asked very matter-of-factly, pointing to the dying officer.

Claridge Hotel, East 60th, 8:20 PM, July 31st, 2075

Recovering from the surprise quickly, Jack instinctively followed the elf's order. The ork pushed the button for the 13th floor, pulled out his pistol, and drew a bead on the troll's head. Before he could get a shot off, the elevator doors closed and he was on his way back to Honeypot's room. Calling up the fence's icon, he sent a quick voice message.

<<@Honeypot [JustJack] Coming back up, grab your stuff and be ready to go, fighting in the lobby>>

Jack watched as the floor numbers slipped by, hoping the crew's rigger wasn't tied into the building system and preparing to gleefully send the elevator plummeting back down to the ground and to his doom. How the frag do these guys have the upper hand at every step? The ork briefly gave thought to one of the team being a mole. It was something he would have to think more on as Lynx's crew somehow always had the advantage. Having a chance to think, Jack realized that his initial instinct to fight the troll below would have likely been a bad idea. So far, Lynx's crew never seemed to travel alone and he doubted that he was skilled enough to take on more than one of the crew at a time, if even one of them. In any event, he knew he wasn't going to have much of a chance without an edge, so he activated his wireless reflexes in preparation.

The door chime brought him out of his reverie. Raising his pistol, Jack edged to the side of the opening elevator doors, clearing the area directly in front of the elevator and to the left. Seeing no opposition, he cleared the right side of the hallway and sprinted down the hall. Reaching Honeypot's room, the ork banged out the code they had used earlier and said loudly, "Open up, chica. I got to get you out of here!" In the time it would take for someone to check the peep hole, the door opened. A visibly shaken Honeypot stood in front of Jack with a small go-bag.

"What's going on, Jack? What's happening?" the elf asked haltingly.

Jack pushed past the elf and checked the window, looking to the street below for the taxi he had asked to wait for him. From this angle of the building, he didn't spot it. "Your guards below are buying you the chance to get away with their lives. We've got to move." Grabbing her arm, he moved her out of the room and into the hallway. "Head to the stairs, that elevator is going to be a death trap."

Running down the hallway, Jack kept his body between Honeypot and the elevators to take any bullets that might be coming their way. As they approached the stairwell doors, the ork darted in front of Honeypot and opened the door, clearing the immediate area and listening for sounds of pursuit in the stairwell. "Down we go, stay behind me!" With that, Jack and Honeypot headed down the stairs with the ork in the lead.

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:06 PM, July 31st, 2075

Seeing Amy move awkwardly, wincing as she walked, Grease felt his blood pressure rise. She's got kids! She shouldn't be out here, and she sure as hell shouldn't be getting shot! He kept his thoughts to himself, however, and responded, "We need to gather the drones." He paused, rubbing his arm against his nose to wipe away some blood. "I can maybe salvage something. RHex is dead, but I can pull his weapon and ammo. Let's load everything in the car, quickly. That includes our Officer friend." He glared at the Officer, his head pounding from the killshot of his favorite drone. "I'd like to have a candid conversation with him. We don't want him to die on us on the off chance he's just some poor schmuck who was following orders of his Lt."

Horseshoe Park, Aurora Warrens, 8:08 PM, July 31st, 2075

The team burst into action, wanting to get out of the park as soon as possible to avoid possible repercussions from Lone Star, as well as get the injured to a doctor. Grease messaged the team, <<@All [Grease] I know a doc not to far from here, we can take this guy with us.>>

Amy's spirit kept depositing bits and pieces of broken drone, including one that was mostly intact (if soaking wet) near Grease's car. Overkill leaned down over the guard's body, put his fingers to his neck and said, "There is a pulse, but a kleine one. If we want him to live, we need to get him to someone quickly."

Pulling out his bug scanner, he ran it over the remains of the drone, and the body of the officer. "I don't detect anything, but I'll run a jamming signal just in case." Picking up the guard's commlink and helmet, he switched off the wireless signals, and threw them in the back seat.

With the help of Amy's spirit, they lifted Rhex into the trunk, along with the other drone, and put the body of the officer in the back seat. Chomsky is seeing to Greeley, who is nearly comatose with the pain. He looks up as Amy approaches. "Amy, what do we do? I need to get her to a doctor."

"Don't worry, Grease knows someone who can take care of us, but we need to hurry, in case the cops come back. Give me the keys to Greeley's car."
As Amy takes the keys, Grease messages, <<@Amy[Grease] We need to get this guy to the doc. Here's the address, I'll see you there, you aren't going to be able to keep up..>>

The last thing Amy sees before Grease's BMW takes off like a shot is a shimmering distortion in the Matrix around the car, it makes her head swim as she tries to look at it through her contacts. She quickly drops her eyes, and refocuses on Chomsky. She takes the proffered keys, and helps carry Greeley to the car, laying her on the back seat, trying not to let any of the burned skin touch the leather.

Shutting the wireless down on all the devices she, Greeley, and Chomsky have on, including the car, leans back in the passenger seat as Chomsky begins to drive. She gives him directions, and he slowly but surely coaxes the vehicle into motion, driving himself rather than leaving it to the car's autopilot. "Well, I guess you were right." he says as the exit the parking lot. Amy looks out the window, trying not to see the lifeless bodies lying on the ground, or the wounded crying out for medical attention. "What do we do now?"

"I don't know yet. Let's get us all together, and we can talk." I wonder how Jack is doing She is about to contact him, and then decides to wait until she catches up with Overkill so he can protect her transmissions. "Chomsky, do you have anyplace you can lay low?"

Chomsky makes a quick left, following her directions. "I have a couple of friends who could take me in, yes. I'm not sure if they would take you and your group as well, but I can ask. Although, I hesitate to put anyone else in danger."

Dr. Jacoby's, Aurora Warrens 8:14 PM, July 31st, 2075

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH" What sounds like a siren shrieking down the streets of the Warrens is in fact Overkill, his head thrown back against the head rest from the acceleration of Grease's BMW. He is unsure of how it is possible, but it seems that Grease has been accelerating the entire trip, but at this point, if he were honest with himself, he is unwilling to look at the speedometer.

Cars zip by him left and right, and Grease is going so quickly it is hard to tell if they are parked or moving. Only once did he seem to slow down, taking a 90 degree turn at about 50 mph, in a maneuver that left Overkill's heart somewhere between his tonsils and his esophagus. As he reached the Quincy Reservoir, Grease finally brought the car to a halt, opened his eyes, and motioned for Overkill that they had reached their destination. The two elves opened the doors and picked up the unconscious form from the back, and dragged him to the front of the house. It took both of them all their strength to get him to the door, with Grease frantically messaging the doctor.

The door opened, and an elderly black man opened the door, running out to meet them halfway. The doctor looked on in disbelief at the figure in the Lone Star armor. "How do you expect me to treat him in this armor?" The three of them made a comical sight, dragging the unconcious body through the hall of Jacoby's house/office. Finally, Jacoby said, "This is ridiculous, and he doesn't have time." He dashes out of sight for a moment, and then comes back with a medit and a medical saw. Grease and Overkill wince as his saw buzzes through the armor, his expert hands preventing it from cutting into the patient. after a long vertical cut, he says "Help me!" and the two of them rip off the pieces of armor, as Jacoby pulls out his medkit. He connects pulls out a needle the size of a small harpoon filled with adrenaline, and plunges it into the heart of the elf. Grease looks a little woozy at the sight of it, but blinks it away. The elf doesn't respond at all to the shot. The doctor takes out a set of paddles, puts it on the elf's chest and says, "Clear!" and press the button. The body of the elf jumps, and settles. Jacoby listens at his heart, then "Clear!". Again, the body twitches, and again Jacoby listens at the heart.

Finally, he shakes his head. "I'm sorry Grease, there's nothing I can do." He slowly disconnects the paddles, and looks at Grease's face. "You look terrible."

Dr. Jacoby's, Aurora Warrens 8:21 PM, July 31st, 2075

Amy, Chomsky, and Greeley pull up in front of the address given to them by Grease. They see the BMW in the driveway, and they walk up to the front door and ring the bell. Overkill answers the door, and leads them inside. They walk down a long hallway, and in what would normally be the dining room of a normal house is a relatively state of the art medical facility. Grease is lying down on a table, with Dr. Jacoby standing over him. Laying on a table next to him is another form, with a sheet pulled over him. Overkill sighs, "We got here too late, meine Freunde."

Dr. Jacoby's, Aurora Warrens 8:21 PM, July 31st, 2075

Trying to sit up, only to be pushed down quickly by Jacoby, Grease grins, his teeth bloody. "Oh good, you made it. He didn't, though." he comments gesturing towards the sheet. "Nobody can say we didn't try though!"

Looking at the horrified faces of Greeley and Chomsky standing behind Amy, Grease tries to sit up again, and is again gently pushed back down onto his back. "Ease up Doc; I'll be fine, you can patch me up in a minute. She took a bullet. After her, check out those two behind her. Once you're done there, I think we should have them wait in the other room while we discuss our options here."

Claridge Hotel, East 60th, 8:20 PM, July 31st, 2075

Jack led Honeypot down the stairs, Jack's boots loud on the stairwell, while she padded along quietly, having taken off her heels before she left the hotel room. Twelfth floor, eleventh floor...fourth floor, third floor... Jack slowed as he reached the second floor of the hotel.

Now what?

Claridge Hotel, East 60th, 8:20 PM, July 31st, 2075

With both of them winded from the mad dash, Jack held up his hand indicating they should pause. Between deep breaths, Jack asked, "Alright chica, you need to put on your thinking cap. You said you were familiar with the building from before... do you remember any emergency exits or staff areas that we might be able to use to get out of here? Going through the lobby is no bueno."

Claridge Hotel, East 60th, 8:20 PM, July 31st, 2075

Honeypot looked around a second, her breath coming in short gasps. Her eyes widened a little, and then she said, "Yes, yes - there's a back entrance they use in case there's a customer who doesn't want to be seen coming in the front door. There's a stairwell to it halfway down this hall." She points to the door they stopped in front of.

Claridge Hotel, East 60th, 8:20 PM, July 31st, 2075

"Alright then, let's go. Stay behind me." Jack said. Standing next to the door, he puts his ear to it and trains his hearing to determine if he hears anything on the other side. The ork made out a conversation involving a man and a woman, but not the content. It's a brothel, so that isn't surprising.

Thinking quickly, Jack assessed the threat level as moderate. The troll downstairs didn't seem to be capable of speaking and they had no indications, other than the doctored video, that any of Lynx's crew was female. Tucking his weapon back in its pocket holster, Jack turned to Honeypot and said, "I know you're scared right now, but I'm going to get you out of here. There are two people in the hallway on the other side of this door. They're probably just engaging in business. If we pretend to do the same, they probably won't even notice us." Jack reached out his arm and put it around the elf's shoulder. "You up for it?"

Claridge Hotel, East 60th, 8:20 PM, July 31st, 2075

Honeypot seemed to calm down a little. "I'm scared out of my mind, but pretending to be interested in a man is something I can do in my sleep. Come on." The two of them stepped through the doorway, Honeypot pressed up against Jack's side, making it a little hard to concentrate. They moved down the hallway, swaying a little, with Honeypot doing the talking. "Its right this way sweetie, come on, we'll have a good time." The couple in the hall, a man and a woman in an alcove seemed to pay them little mind as they walked by, and then entered another door halfway down the hall.

Jack and Honeypot head down the stairs, and find a small vestibule with a metal door at the bottom. "Hang on a sec." Honeypot motions with her hand, and an ARO pops up showing her commlink's files. Searching through them, she finds the one she is looking for, and then, reading a series of numbers, punches in a code on the keypad. The door pops open, and Jack goes first, looking out the door. The door leads to an alley behind the hotel, empty except for a few rats, some of an unusual size. The alley dead ends in one direction, and leads to the street in the other.

Alley Outside the Claridge Hotel, East 60th, 8:22 PM, July 31st, 2075

Given the restricted access of the area the pair are in, Jack decided to pause a moment to line up an extraction. The ork took a second to reboot his commlink again, trying not to limit the chance of his comms being bugged. After the device rebooted, Jack swept past a few pending messages to re-dial Amendola's. After a quick ring, the dispatcher picked up.

"Amendola's, whatcha want?" a gruff voice on the other end of the line said. Sub-vocalizing, Jack replied "Hoi amigo, you got a driver up here in Commerce City that just dropped me off at the Claridge. I got my fix and need a ride back, can you patch me through to him?"

Without responding, the dispatcher placed the call on hold. Before the ridiculous Amindola's spiel started playing, the line was redirected and the deep voice of a troll answered. "Hoi, who's dis?" Hoping the cab driver's avarice had overcome any concern he may have had over the odd request, Jack replied, "I'm the hombre who's going to make you 100 richer if you're still here at the Claridge. Meet me and a passenger at the alley on the side of the hotel in one minute."

Staying on the line Jack and Honeypot exited the building into the alley. Jack appreciated the darkness and the fact he's accompanying an elf. Hopefully that'll give us a small advantage, he thought to himself as the duo make their way toward the mouth of the alley. Putting his mic on silent, Jack told Honeypot, "You're doing great, chica. When we get close to the street, we're going to hold up and keep up the act we were playing inside. When the car gets here, you're going to go first. Move fast and I'll cover you with my pistol. Once you're in, I'll follow."

Alley Outside the Claridge Hotel, East 60th, 8:22 PM, July 31st, 2075

Jack and Honeypot walked to the edge of the alley, staying in the shadows until Amendola's taxi appeared in front of them. Jack recognized the low-riding car with its troll driver, and nodding at Honeypot, they walked across the sidewalk, Jack carefully looking in both directions, his pistol snug in the palm of his hand, while his other arm draped over Honeypot's shoulder.

The back door opened, and Jack put Honeypot inside, and then got in himself. "Ok, buddy, get out of here, now." As the car drove away, Jack kept watch on the hotel until the cabbie turned down a different street, and it disappeared from view. Jack allowed himself to relax a tiny fraction, and then turned to Honeypot. "You alright?"

She nodded, her facade starting to crack a little. "Do you think my friends made it out?" Her eyes looked into his, wanting desperately to hear a different answer than what she knew was the truth.

In the Backseat of an Amindola's Taxi, Somewhere in the UCAS Sector, 8:23 PM, July 31st, 2075

Closing his eyes, Jack had to shake his head. His soft words were a little more positive. Pitching his voice low, he leaned in and whispered to Honeypot, "It's possible. The woman took a hard hit, but I'm no doctor, she may have made it out. If the man was as good a fighter as you think, he might be cleaning his spurs off on the other guy's clothes as we speak. Either way, you're going to have to hold off on trying to find out. From this point on, you need to turn all your wireless off. We need to get you to a safe house outside your network and you need to lay low until this blows over. Let's wait to finish the conversation until we get somewhere more private."

Jack turned and kept his eyes on their rear, scanning the skies for drones and the roads for trailing vehicles while they made their way into the Warrens.

Dr. Jacoby's, Aurora Warrens 8:21 PM, July 31st, 2075

Drave watched with apprehension as Jacoby began to work on Amy's wound, recognizing the devastation caused by the explosive round fired at point blank range. But still Drave was thankful; if it hadn't for the new armor vest Amy was wearing, the wound could have been fatal. Grease was sitting nearby, cleaning his own blood out of his ears, familiar signs of Dumpshock. Das war zu nah
, he thought to himself as he viewed his teammates. If only Jack had been there... , the thought immediately led Drave to pull up his commlink in his AR display, and prepared a message to update the ork as to what had gone on.

<<@JustJack[Overkill]: Hello meine freund, there was trouble at the rally. Amy and Grease are hurt, but we managed to get Chomsky and Greeley out of there safely. We will give you the details when you arrive, we are at a street doc right now, I will send you the coordinates. We need to plan our next move.>>

Dr. Jacoby's, Aurora Warrens 8:21 PM, July 31st, 2075

Sitting up after being ministered to, Grease blows his nose into a bloody wad of bandages, looking over Overkill and Amy. He nods at Jacoby, who takes the hint and tells Chomsky and Greeley, "Hmm, I think you may be concussed; let's get you into a dark room so I can examine you eyes.." while gently ushering them into another part of the house."

"We've got ourselves into quite a mess here, and I can't say how screwed we are just yet. If that," he indicates to the sheet, "is a real cop, then it's something we're just going to keep to ourselves, capisce?" He sighs deeply, looking at the other two members of the team. If we are still a team..

"I have a confession to make. I was tasked with keeping an eye on the rally by a contact. I didn't think anything was going to happen, so it seemed like it'd be free cred. However, I'm not about to hand over tape of one of you two murdering a cop. I want to meet with him tonight, and I'm going to try and get answers. From what I understand, NO Lonestar were supposed to be at this event. You can come with me or not, but I'd appreciate the backup. This whole thing has gone sideways."

Seeing them both looking down, lost in their own thoughts about what he said, Grease's expression darkens. "We should also probably talk about how our muscle conveniently left about 5 minutes before the drek hit the fan."

Parking Lot of the Motel 6, 15000 E. Smoky Hill Road, Aurora Warrens, 8:30 PM, July 31st, 2075

As the taxi pulled into the parking lot of the Motel 6, Jack leaned forward to the cabbie and said, "Thanks amigo, here's your pay. By the way, we were never in your cab, got it?" The ork initiated a pay transfer of 100 in payment and he and Honeypot exited the vehicle. Walking briskly to the hotel, Jack held the door open for the elf and followed her into the building. Walking to the front desk, the ork said. "Hey hombre, I need a room for a few days. Got anything?"

Jack finally noticed a message icon in the corner of his AR display, indicating a message from one of the team. Get Honeypot settled first, then check in on the rally. Hope it's going well...

Parking Lot of the Motel 6, 15000 E. Smoky Hill Road, Aurora Warrens, 8:30 PM, July 31st, 2075

Jack recognizes Jim, the same attendant who helped them a couple of days ago. Jim looks at the beautiful woman at Jack's side, and a small grin turns up one corner of his mouth. "Sure thing boss. 100 a night, free trid, and no questions asked."

Jack starts to access his link, but Honeypot stops him. She hands the gaunt figure behind the desk a couple of 100 bills. The man looks at them, then takes them and shoves them in his pocket. He hands her a key, "Room 152, down the hall to the left. Enjoy your stay."

Honeypot and Jack move off down the hallway, leaving Jim back at the front desk.

Motel 6, 15000 E. Smoky Hill Road, Aurora Warrens, 8:30 PM, July 31st, 2075

Entering the relative safety of the room, Jack turned to Honeypot and said, "You should have let me pay for this. You're only in this position because you were doing me a favor. I'll make it up to you."

Sighing deeply, he continued, "I want you to lay low here for a few days. If you need something, use this to get a hold of me." Jack passed Honeypot the commlink he just purchased from her a few days ago. "It isn't much, but it should be clean. I haven't used it yet. Just keep your head down. I'll contact you in two days. If you don't hear from me by then, get out of Denver."

Knowing that Honeypot was likely emotionally exhausted if not physically exhausted, Jack gave the elf a hug and told her goodbye. Walking back to the Motel 6 Lobby, Jack avoided Jim's searching eyes and finally accessed his messages. Quickly reading through Overkill's message, the ork swore. Knowing Jim was probably paying even more attention to him now, the ork left the lobby and leaned against the outside wall, watching the cars pass by on Smoky Hill Road.

Jack composed a quick message to the team.

<<@Team [JustJack] Understood. I'm where we met Johnson, but don't have any wheels. Things not so great on my end either. My contact was definitely in trouble. Met one of L's crew face to face>>

Dr. Jacoby's, Aurora Warrens 8:22 PM, July 31st, 2075

Amy wasn't happy. "Grease, you have to realize that we're a team. We need each other to survive through this whole thing. So you gotta be honest with us. It's not because you agree to spy on us, that you shouldn't tell us about it!!"

She let that sink in. It wasn't her most powerful speech, but she was tired and bloody and couldn't find a better way to say what she had in mind.

"Now, I don't mind helping you out however I can tonight. The truth is that I owe you one. You didn't have to come, and you may very well have saved my life. I'd need to get some rest before I do anything else though, and hopefully there'll be time for that."

She paused once again, taking a few deep breaths. "We'll have to look at this guy's commlink to figure out for sure who he is, but just looking at what he's wearing under his armor tells me that he was probably a real cop, may his soul find peace in the metaplanes. But there's something else. I saw the warrant, and it was signed by a Judge Harvey Brown. Either there's amazingly two Harvey Browns, one the major who we were told might be part of the conspiracy, and one a judge, or maybe the warrant was a fake and the officers knew it, if they really were Lone Star as I suspect. So I find some peace in thinking that he might have had this coming, working like a slave for a big corp who tells you to arrest innocent people arbitrarily."

It was obvious that Amy was very focused, and she tried hard to address everything Grease had started talking about. "And about Jack. I know him and it's nothing like him to sell out to someone else and betray the team as you imply. Coming from you, I'm not surprised that you say that, though." She looked at him side-ways, almost like she was scolding him. "Anyway, let me call him and see if he can clear things out for us." Grease and Overkill could hear what she was sending Jack.

<<@Jack [Amy's voice] You left at a very bad moment, chummer. We had a shootout with Lone Star, just to get Greeley and Chomsky safely out of there. We're at a street clinic called Jacoby's office now. I hope you're all right. Call me.>>

Dr. Jacoby's, Aurora Warrens 8:32 PM, July 31st, 2075

Rubbing his temples, Grease responds to Amy.

"Well, you may know Jack very well, but I don't. I don't really know any of you. Did I help you out tonight? Yeah, but it's something anyone in my position would have done." He stands and stretches, searching the office for something- pain meds probably.

"I got this job before I met any of you- just go to the park, take some trid, report back. I didn't think anything was going to happen tonight, so what was the harm? I'm in the hole already on this job, and we're clearly behind the 8 ball."

He looks at Amy directly. "So then, as far as I can tell, Jack leaves, the cops show up immediately after, and I've got trid ready for the 11 o'clock news. Do I immediately go turn it over to my contact? No, I tell you two about it, and drive you to my street doc to get your friends patched up."

He opens a drawer and finds something he's looking for; quickly shaking a few pills loose from a bottle, he downs them dry and continues.

"So you know Jack. You're saying you don't think it's the least suspicious he left when he did? What do you really know about him? You can't assume just because someone is working with you that they're on the level. I mean, hasn't it seemed like we've been behind the whole time? Who did Jack's contact hear about, me and him? Or was it you two?"

He turns to Overkill. "Overkill- you showed up in the paper this morning, or near enough. Kinda odd something that small made it to the paper, isn't it?"

Grease shakes his head. "I've worked with Jack for two days now. He seems like a nice enough guy, but you never really know. You all can do whatever you want. All I know is I'm staying at my place tonight, and I sure as hell wouldn't have my kids sleeping at his."

He sits back down, clearly drained. "My contact is in Lonestar- different division than all this mess. I'm going to talk to him tonight, with you all there if possible, and try to get some answers. He may know if the cops were supposed to show up today; why else would he have me film it? He said there was no way that cops come into the warrens like this, "we wouldn't risk it" he said. All I know is, I'd be more comfortable if Jack sat that one out."

He points a finger at Overkill. "Did you send him the coordinates here yet? Let's meet him someplace else; I don't want to drag Jacoby into this."

Dr. Jacoby's, Aurora Warrens 8:32 PM, July 31st, 2075

"I read you, Grease. I understand what you must be going through and I respect that. But I won't change my mind about Jack this easily. I know him personally and so does Overkill. He does even more than me. Why would Jack have us stay at this place and then betray us? That doesn't make any sense. He doesn't have a whole lot of friends in this town, and after Nic it's pretty much us two. I won't go down that road of fear and paranoia with you Grease. We'll have to all four of us meet together tomorrow and set things straight. Meanwhile, I'm fine not having Jack on board tonight if you don't want to, that's your call. And it's gonna be your call too if you want to leave this job and this team behind you and find other work elsewhere. But I think you're overreacting big time. I'm sure Jack has a good explanation for what happened and it has nothing to do with Lone Star. Or maybe it does. Maybe it was a setup from our enemies. For all I know I find that more likely than any of your accusations."

Motel 6, 15000 E. Smoky Hill Road, Aurora Warrens, 8:32 PM, July 31st, 2075

Jack's voicemail icon popped up almost as soon as he had sent Overkill his text response. That was quick, the ork thought to himself before realizing the voicemail came from Amy. Accessing the message, he piped it through his earbuds and listened to Amy's voice. She sounds exhausted, Jack thought. Madre de Dios! A shootout with Lone Star?!? What the frag happened?

Jack quickly called up Amy's number and placed the call.

<<@Amy [JustJack] Ring... Ring... Ring...>>

Dr. Jacoby's, Aurora Warrens 8:32 PM, July 31st, 2075

As Amy was talking, her phone starts ringing. "See? It's him right now calling back. I'm sure he'll be able to explain what happened."

<<Jack! Where have you been?>>

Motel 6, 15000 E. Smoky Hill Road, Aurora Warrens, 8:32 PM, July 31st, 2075

Sub-vocalizing, Jack responded, <<@Amy [JustJack] Commerce City, turned out my contact needed protection. We need a face-to-face meet, I'm not sure if I would trust comms right now. It sounds like y'all ran into trouble tonight. Is everyone okay?>>

Dr. Jacoby's, Aurora Warrens 8:32 PM, July 31st, 2075

<<Yeah we're fine. Plus or minus a bullet wound or three. Anyway, we're going somewhere tonight with Grease, and he doesn't want you to come along after you left us just before drek hit the fan. I still trust you 100%, so I'll see you at our new home afterwards. We all need to meet and straighten this out tomorrow morning after we get some much needed rest.>>