Karma watches the surroundings, while listening to the shaman tell his tale. It doesn't add up, but the megacorps never did to people with a conscience.

" " "I have one question: Is this investigation anyhow related to your previous job, or was this non-related side work? Also, did you start this contract before or after you left your previous employer?" " "

Blue answers without a thought. """ Unrelated to my previous job. This is a contract that came to me, after escaping Mitsuhama, through your ... predecessor to whom I had indicated the need to find another line of work. She said it doesn't take long for people with magical skills to find work, put out some feelers to her contacts, and proved her point. She was not interested in joining in this contract. Just as well, I guess. """

The couple makes their way up the jetty, staying on the HiFric layer until they get to the diner's waterfront balcony, and from there to the door. The waitress that served Karmakaze and Blue goes to greet them, and usher them to a seat.

In contrast with them, the truck disgorges five dudes with wrap-around sunglasses, cropped hair or ballcaps, and various other style cues suggesting the high-powered sporting life. One has a shirt that clearly depicts a salmon jumping a waterfall. And another salmon and ... it's actually projecting a video record (or rendered version). Fancy.

Blue stiffens a little. One finger of a hand on the table points toward the five trucker dudes, but doesn't obviously stare at them. """ Oh, drek. I don't like the look of those five. And I can't assense them until there isn't a window or wall between us. I could be paranoid, but they look a lot like the kind of crew who hunted me earlier. What's your sense? """

Karma's Savalette is drawn upon the shaman's twitch, but the Ingram is drawn more calculated as her dinner date gives the situation report, but both weapons are still hidden below the table.

" " "I don't expect Mitsuhama to send a bunch of hillbillies after you, but I don't put it past them either. Or it could have something to do with your new contract. Or they could just be a bunch off hoops from Spokane or the Canada, on a fishing trip. Either way, give me cover, and I will lay down fire if need be. By the way, the name is Karmakaze."

""" Call me Blue. If it starts, I'll take the one with the video shirt first. If you trust me enough, open your mind, and I'll link us mentally. Can't be heard or hacked. Short range, though. No more than 6 meters. """

Should Karmakaze assent, Blue casts a Mindlink spell to connect the two.



+++ Catching this? +++

The five of them start wandering, apparently chatting, joking and laughing through the parking lot towards the door of the restaurant. They still look like a collection of dudes preparing to fuel up before a day's fishing, or tooling around Puget Sound like fools.

" " "Amazing," " " Karma is always intrigued by magic, and this is a spell or ability that she has never heard of. She is happy to be part of it, but is not sure how to do so. " " "I will try, but I don't know how." " "

+++ You don't have to speak. Just think it, and I will know it. Same the other direction. Images and emotions too. I learned it to help in noisy industrial environments, but it is useful in other ways, too. I will eventually learn it for longer range. If drek does hit the fan, though. I will have to drop it because it is an added drain on top of daylight for me. We can still talk to not appear out of place or weird. +++

Blue actively appreciates the food. """ Man, I have to finds the recipe for this chowder. Mighty good. Mmm, mmm. """

The dudes stroll in through the door, the silver-haired couple take a seat by the large windows facing the sound, and the chatty couple of salty guys stand up after checking the time on the big (real!) clock on the wall (with hands for the old-timers). A display off to one side changes from RISING to SLACK.

That leaden wall of rain outside has crept closer, and a few droplets are starting to patter on the windows facing the sound. A good time for coffee.

Karmakaze has the Savalette out, but hidden below the table. It can easily fire around, the shaman, + + + What did he say his name was, Blue?+ + +

+ + + Yes! I can sense you,+ + + she hears Blue's response crystal clear, like his voice is coming in through an earpiece.

" " "So cool!" " " she half whispers in response. " " "Wait - You said something else," " " she says excitedly, " " "...but it was a jumble... Oh!, I got it, it is all so clear now." " " Karma says with a smile, and she almost loses her tactical awareness.

She snaps back to normalcy. Blue can see it in her eyes as they narrow and regain focus. Her smile quickly disappears.

+ + +These guys do part time work for Chin-Ho Huang. Maybe they are looking to go fishing, maybe they are looking for you. Us... Do you understand me?+ + + Karma takes her eyes off the five "fishermen" and looks at Blue for signs of acknowledgement.

With her right hand, she takes a drink of coffee. She might need the extra boost of caffeine, and it is REAL coffee. Who knows when she will have another good cup of real coffee.

+++ Yes, Blue is my name now. I get the message. Who is this Chin-Ho Huang? +++

Blue sips his coffee. +++ That is so good. I could get hooked on that. +++ He keeps a surreptitious eye on the newcomers.

Blue feels something ...



... and the mindlink vanishes. As if it were never there.

The five dudes are strolling in. The two in the back are stopping by the counter to slot a credstick. And the silver-haired couple are fiddling with menus.

""" On guard! Something just killed my link. The party has begun. I'm taking a look astrally. """

Blue opens his perception to the astral to see what if anything is there. He didn't notice either the five or the two doing anything, but maybe something will show in the astral plane.

There is nothing immediately obvious in terms of magical forces in the astral. No vast spirits nor anything similar. Perhaps if Blue were to settle down, take some time and do some careful analysis, he might see something? Who knows?

Nothing springs out at Blue. """ Hm. Don't see anything easy. I'll look deeper. """ He decides to assense slowly and carefully, checking out others in the environment.

Karmakaze nods at Blue, her right hand goes under the table and soon is filled with an Ingram Model 20t.

The five stroll in while Blue looks around, chatting and laughing to each other. They don't wait to be seated, or anything like that, but just come up towards the table where Blue and Karmakaze are seated. Blue is of course oblivious to the details of what they're doing, examining another world for the moment, but Karmakaze sees them reaching into pockets, and glimpses one withdrawing what looks like a magician cuffing tool from a fannypack.

Blue curses to himself as he scrambles to eliminate the fog of astral scenery by returning to physical perception. +++ Why the Hell didn't I summon a hearth spirit as soon as I entered the diner? 'Cause I'm careless, that's why. Damned if I'll make that mistake again, if I survive. +++

The new wired reflexes has Karmakaze reacting faster than thinking, but she was already prepared, so it seems things are going as planned, as a three-round burst from each hand hits the would-be attacker square in the chest. She is already moving for cover, assuming Blue will be doing the same, while determining who is the next largest threat.

Karmakaze's guns bark with a short, hard BRRRAP-BRRAP, and mister Magecuffs folds up, right there - but even faster than his collapse, is her acceleration out of her seat to behind a waist-high booth partition. It's either wood, or a synthetic analogue, and so offers a lot more protection than the light clothing these goons are wearing.

Her sudden attack evidently catches them all by surprise, because they are still turning their heads to look at her when she's already darting off to one side. So far, none of them are doing anything sensible, when Blue has already cleared his vision - and he can see them nice and clearly now.

Blue pulls his head out of his ... back to the material plane and ducks left, behind another partition. Karmakaze doesn't need to show him twice. He hides his hands in pockets, both to make them harder to sleeve in 'cuffs, and to grab a hold of spell items, Influence in his left hand and Powerbolt in his right.

Glad to see 'cuff man downed by Karmakaze, he zeroes his sights on t-shirt boy. Maybe his fashion sense is offended, who knows?

The goon with the 'cuffs is going down like a sack of potatoes, and people are starting to respond. The folks behind the counter are looking up in startlement, the couple of grizzled nautical types are ducking, and the goons are showing signs of wanting to scatter. Apparently Karmakaze's opening position startled them out of their rhythm. The guy with the fancy shirt appears to be trying to hide himself behind a chair - or perhaps it's just a waystation on his headlong flight into the chilly embrace of the sound's waters. But none of them look as if they're ready to do anything more effective than sphincter release just yet.

The man to the left spins to the ground hunched over, the wind and breakfast knocked out of him from the burst of gel rounds to the midsection. The man on the right is less injured, as the gel rounds splattered against an innocent chair, which was unfortunately heavily damaged.

+++Drek.+++

The three goons who are still on their feet come out of their early morning kidnapping glow with surprising speed, now that two of their buddies are on the way down and gunfire cracks the air. The one with the fancy shirt doesn't go far, but flips a table onto its side and ducks behind it. From his vantage point, Blue can see about half of him, but Fancy Shirt is out of Karmakaze's point of view.

The other two seem less inclined to toss table settings onto the floor. The one on Karmakaze's left ducks into a booth a mere two yards from Blue. Neither Blue nor Karmakaze can now see him. The remaining one slides hard right on the tiled floor, from Karmakaze's point of view, and behind a bit of partition. Both Blue and Karmakaze can see him looking out with an angry snarl, pulling twelve inches of knife from an ankle sheath. Apparently he's ready to go lethal.

Karma locks eyes with the man as he is pulling his knife. They start to widen as they see two barrels pointed at him, but before he can fully shit his pants, he is pelted with a burst of gel rounds in the face.

The man with the knife disappears behind his partition. At a guess, if he's not unconscious, he has a freshly broken nose. His stricken buddies around the floor continue to moan and vomit.

The staff and customers are doing their best to hustle out of the line of fire. The old couple are heading for the door to the moorings again (fortunately for them, not far off) and the two earlier patrons are legging it, heads down, for the front door.

The man on the left, nearest Blue, pops up with something that looks a lot like a cross between a flashlight, a vacuum cleaner attachment and an airhorn in his hands. It makes a meaty THWUP sound, and a tangle of weighted paracord flops over the booth where Blue is hiding. Then he starts to clamber over the partition to try to approach Blue, not apparently making the connection that he has utterly failed to disable Karmakaze, and that he makes a pretty nice target.

Blue, on the other hand, while not entangled (given that he had his hands in his pockets) would definitely have to work at it to move away from where he is. Nets; they don't do much, until they do, and then they're pretty effective.

Blue had his heart set on making a fashion statement about that t-shirt. Then the damn fool ducked behind cover, making it hard to hit him with a newly-cast-in-the-daytime spell that only stunned. Powerbolt it was going to be.

Then, miracle of miracles, the guy in the booth to the left decided to make himself a clean target! An ordinary man would have switched to shoot at the nearest, easy target. But not Blue. Let Karmakaze take care of this idiot. Will of steel, focused on t-shirt boy, he let a Powerbolt fly at the harder target.

Mister Fancyshirt is having a very bad day. He had a cunning plan all worked out. It was going to involve using the table as a mantlet of sorts, to reposition himself more favourably and thereby turn the tide of battle from a rough start to an epic victory, which would surely lead to his glorious recognition by various forces as a true master of the art of impromptu street combat. Plaudits, money and sexual partners would only be a matter of time.

Then Blue sent a powerbolt right up his leg. The full consequences are shielded from Blue's and Karmakaze's immediate sight because the table falls over Fancyshirt, but Blue sees the clothing and flesh shred away from bone as if the claws of a gigantic owl had raked along his body. The other foot, visible in its spastic motions from under the wobbling table, smears shredded flesh residue on the tiles to the sound of a sort of gargling howl of agony.

The shirt's image glows somewhat from beneath the shade of the table, helping to illuminate a spray of blood that paints the tiles a startling shade of bright crimson.

Blue grunts in amazement at the effect of the spell. """Huh."""

Karma spots the last target, who looks like he thinks he successfully snagged a shaman. Technically the attacker did have Blue snagged in a net, but technically, he also was just blasted with a 3-round burst from a Savalette Guardian.

The latest burst of gel rounds catches the climber right in the solar plexus. He makes a sound like a basketball hit with an axe, and pitches forward into an empty booth with a crash of breaking plates and crashing silverware.

The score now tilts to even; even, that is, if one discounts Blue under a web of synthetic fibres, and assumes that the fellow who took gel rounds to the face is substantially undisturbed, and just waiting to spring his trap on Karmakaze.

Karmakaze holsters the Savalette, whips the folding stock out on the Ingram and brings it to a shouldered position.

"""Alright drekkers. Have you all had enough? Move if you want to get hit again. I'm just about out of the soft rounds, then it is killing time,""" she bluffed.

She scans the group ready to fire at the first one who moves.

"""You good, Blue?"""

"""Yeah, I'm fine, thanks. I'll summon a spirit to help get this net off of me, while you keep an eye on the boys. I'm not sure of the status of the one you shot in the face."" Blue chuckles to himself. Isn't that what 'runners do? Shoot people in the face for money? Except, this was to stay free.

While Karmakaze watches the attackers, Blue conjures a hearth spirit. Task number one: ::: take this net and drop it on the booth over there. :::. He points to the booth hiding face-smashed-in.

The staff of the diner shows no inclination whatsoever to stop Karmakaze. The other customers have left. The only third parties present are the goons that came to snatch a sea urchin, and got a hand full of spikes.

These worthies are, none of them, offering Karmakaze any resistance right now. The first two are still prostrate, and the last two are still in booths, one way or another. The wearer of the fancy shirt is now lying still in a spreading pool of red, still reflecting the shirt's glow beyond the lip of the table that lies over him.

When the spirit manifests, it manifests as a woman, all white as snow except for ice-blue eyes, wearing a grubby set of coveralls, and a rough jacket over the top. A fender hangs from one belt loop, and a long sailor's knife and a marlinspike from another. She shows preternatural skills at net-handling, flipping up the weighted rim to free Blue in a couple of swift motions, before turning and dumping the net where indicated. There's a moaning sound from behind the booth, but no protest.

Blue never ceases to be amazed at the variety and complexity of spirits. But no time now to ponder such things. As the spirit pulls the net away from Blue, he calls to her, ::: Thank you, White Lady. Your help is a comfort in my storm. :::

While Karmakaze provides overwatch, as soon as the net lifts away from him, Blue yanks the old credstick he used as Connor and rushes to place it on the counter. Quietly he says to the staff, """ Sorry for the trouble. I didn't think anyone could find me here. There's about 600 Nuyen on that. I think it covers meals and damage. If you agree there's a few extra nuyen in there, I would appreciate it if your outside video didn't function for the next few minutes. """ He doesn't stop at the counter but continues quickly to t-shirt boy, and checks pulse etc. to see if he is still alive. If there is hope, he plans to cut off the worst of the bleeding (tourniquets, shreds of cloth stuck into the bigger holes, etc.) and do a quick Heal to tide the man over till other help arrives.

As he investigates, he speaks loudly to the room, hoping at least one of the assailants can assimilate his words. His tone is cold. """ Spread the word. Hunting me is bad news. Especially if the next batch of fools risks innocent bystanders the way you did. T-shirt boy here is what they can expect. """

Even with the warning the sudden manifestation within a few feet causes Karmakaze to flinch. She regains her composure quickly.

"""I know we have to get out of here, but I want to make things right - """ Blue starts to tell Karma quietly, but she cuts him off, as she is in agreement and he doesn't need to explain.

"""Agreed. Let's also make sure these guys spend a few nights in the slammer."""



She then raises her voice to direct their would be captors, """Alright idiots. If you don't want your fancy-shirted-friend there to die you will follow my every direction without question. If you resist, you will get slimed by the nice spirit here, or shot by me. Or worse, you will end up like your leg-shredded-lackwit buddy here."""

She doesn't wait for a reply.

"""Good. Fragface.""" She aims her gun at the goon on the floor that looks most able. """Take off your shoe laces and tie up, Drekdick,""" she says, pointing to the other moaning goon on the floor, "Be quick about it, or I will subdue you with another three-round burst."""

Karmakaze manages to urge the bruiser who blew back his coffee to co-operate, although he's trembling pretty hard. When he pushes the table off Fancyshirt, he throws up again. The flesh has been stripped from the bone in ragged slices from ankle to hip, gleaming bone and white tendon peeping through a marinade of arterial blood. Some blood is still fitfully, feebly spraying out and mixes with the vomit.

While this occurs, Blue slaps down his credstick. Most of the staff are shell-shocked, but a grim old tattooed line cook who looks as if he would gut a marlin with a machete and a boathook takes the credstick, drops it in his apron, and wanders over to the main counter. He reaches under it, grabs a hand's worth of cables, and yanks them hard. Then he jerks his thumb at the road. "Git gone 'fore th' heat gits here, omae."

Blue can assess the damage at a glance. Without immediate help, Fancyshirt is dead meat in a couple of minutes at best. Of course, that DocWagon bracelet has probably already called in the cavalry, and they do have some pretty wizzer tech. Even so, maybe a Heal would help.

If it's an HRT team under way, they're probably in a boomer already, with gunpods armed and fireteam loaded.

Or maybe he didn't keep up the payment on DocWagon. That could have happened, too.

Blue steels himself for the pain to come. Healing something this bad is gonna hurt. He pulls t-shirt boy's belt off and makes a quick tourniquet around the worse injured thigh. """ This will take about a minute, """ He says to Karmakaze.

Then he lays on hands and concentrates. Magic flows through him like a dam-burst flood, but, amazingly, it doesn't scour him as it passes through. At the end of it he says, """That's the best I can do. """

The blood spray stops, and some of the flesh seems to wriggle back together.

Well, that's why they make cyberwear.

Is that sound a distant horn, or a distant siren?

Blue surveys his work. """ Not bad, all things considered. """ The noise outside intrudes.

""" We should get out of here. """ He says to Karmakaze. """ You have a vehicle? """

He turns to the line cook and gives him a nod. Then heads to the door, pulling out his burner. Talking to his friends must have been how they traced him. As he prepares to ditch the burner in the bay, it dawns on him why help might have been sent his way, and why the week-long time frame. He will run it by his new friend once they are clear.

The poor vomiting slob, on realising that he'd misinterpreted Karmakaze's instructions, and moreover been shouldered aside by Blue, started to tie up the ankles of his comrade in arms. It's a fiddly, messy business, but it happens.

After his comrade is tied up, Karma directs the goon with her SMG to take his buddies shoelaces. After doing so, she quickly ties his hands behind his back with a simple half-hitch. Satisfied, she looks to Blue, who appears to be done with his healing of "One-Leg," given by his "all things considered" comment. He asks her about a car, before she can ask him about his magic or astral read of the place.

"""Yeah. Let's make sure the staff are safe, then we will hot tail it."""

She looks at the other two men, laying in their booths, making sure they are no longer a threat.

"""Which one of you idiots has the keys to the truck?"""

The staff, mercifully, look pretty safe. The goons made no attempt to hassle them, and now they're mostly sullenly nursing their wounds.

One, while holding his hand to a wound carved by broken crockery, points with his other finger at Fancyshort One-Leg lying on the floor. This worthy doesn't respond. Well, he's unconscious.

As Blue steps out the door, he calls back to Karmakaze, """ While you get their keys, I'll dump this burner into the bay. I think that was how they traced me. Meet you outside. """

Outside, he takes aim and tosses the burner into the drink. +++ Costs are adding up. +++

Karma searches the fancy-shirted body for keys, or anything else of worth, besides the shirt. +++ Well.... that shirt is pretty fancy.... +++

Blue sees the burner leave a few bubbles as it sinks. Turning, hoping to see Karmakaze coming out the door, instead he sees her rifling through t-shirt boy's possessions.

+++ I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. +++

Karmakaze's long-experienced hands are good at performing searches for weapons, ID, all that good stuff. It's part of what police officers have to do.

Not that she's really in the police any more.

She turns up a long knife (15 inches of butchery), a set of shock gloves (why isn't he wearing them? Maybe they'd have been too obvious), a snuffbox-style chip wallet, a 'link ... no keys.

Wait a minute. She pops the top on the wallet, and rattles out the chips. Two are credsticks, several are datachips, and there are three keychips. One of them is bound to work on that truck.

On the other hand, that shirt is soaking up the pool of blood, and will need specialist cleaning.

Time to move. Karmakaze's ex-coworkers will be arriving soon. She pockets the findings, pulls out her 'link and opens the video app.

"Hey drekbirds, smile."

She takes a smooth panoramic video making sure to get good images of the goons faces. If Fancy-Shirted Shredded-Pants' ID doesn't turn up any leads, maybe somebody knows these ugly faces.

She exits the building and heads for the truck to do a quick search. Hopefully a vehicle registration, some weapons, and a vehicle registration card turn up, and not just some old Bubba Johnson troll country music tracks.

Karmakaze's video takes in the stained, bloodied faces, and the surprising lack of wreckage, compared to their condition.

Not bad; minimal collateral damage. OK, done.

Outside the weather is cool, with a stiff breeze wafting from the west. It smells of seaweed, and that line of rain is splatting a few fat droplets on the paint of the truck.

The basics of the truck are actually easy to grab from her 'link. Now that the electronic signature of these vehicles is mandatory, it's a quick click-beep. Now, to check inside ...

It's actually pretty nice, and according to the brochures in the cab, it belongs to HuangBilt. A bit out of their area, but maybe the truck was volunteered by the thugs? Seems unlikely, because messing with Chin-Ho's stuff is likely to have ugly consequences. Still, it is what it is.

Overt weapons aren't obviously visible, but there're a few of the usual dual-use technologies, such as a crowbar, a few powertools and of course loops of rope.