With access to the RCC, Tamarind sets to work, first tracing its location, then sending Uncle to the location to see if it is visible, then looking through the selection of drones at the farm, choosing one of the anthro drones to go retrieve the RCC, and to search the house for some tape.

With the backdoor, tracing the RCC turned out to be child's play. And with no resistance, the anthrodrone was easily enough convinced to go into the main building and fetch the device from it's hiding place underneath the roof, where it was connected to a battery/solar cell array.

Minutes later, Tamarind was able to receive the little dongle from her drone.

Gladius replied evenly: "I keep my promises. Once Tien is delivered to the facility, I'll visit you."

Tien nodded at Rachel's words: "I'll certainly do that. One reason more to leave this place as quickly as possible.
I'm having two Valkyrie modules installed on my jet as we speak. I'll feel safer once we are all back on board."

Mato nods at the plan.

"Eight hours, very good. We'll be there."

He looks to the others. "I'll leave my gear with you," he tells Tamarind. "I'll take the C-N Journey and disappear it somewhere."

For once he's happy he's not wearing his suit. His armor jacket is sufficiently blue collar to work, but it's too hot for that nonsense. He resolves to buy an armor vest for occasions like this when sleeves are a burden.

After loading up his gear in Tamarind's truck, he jumps in the Journey and gets ready to dive into the shadows of San Angelo. He'll try to find the run-down parts of town, wherever the orks and trolls live, and see if he can make some connections.

Tamarind powers off the dongle, and puts further thoughts of it aside for now, and focuses on the practicalities of getting gear and people where they need to go.

She address their employer, to ask "How are your relations with customs in Seattle? We picked up extra gear, legal here, that might be looked at with less tolerance in Seattle. We need to sort out what we try taking back, and what we sell on for what we can get before we leave."

Tien responded to Tamarinds querry: "Don't worry about that. I have an arrangement with the folks at the private landing strip. Bring back your gear as is. After all, technically, I shouldn't be bringing my unconscious son and his friend with me either."


---

Mato had no trouble finding the right kind of garage. At the edge of town, half surrounded by a large junk yard and badly maintained building, the place screemed chop shop.

Once he was close, it appeared that a biker gang had possession of the place. A large orc with a cybernetic eye and leg was dirtying a rag with his hands, when Mato got out of the car.

"Nice ride you got there. Anything wrong with it?"
The orc asked, reacting positive to Mato's appearance.

Flying back still on the table, Rachel is glad to be back in San Angelo. She helps AM secure and pack up the stuff they liberated from Victoria, and makes sure any foci that belonged directly to Tien IV are given over to their employer. Astrally it is easy enough to figure out what belongs where.

"Valkyrie modules sound great! I'm sure, after this is all finally over, your son will very much appreciate what you have done for him and his friend."

"If only he'll see it that way..." Tien looked in the distance and sighed. "I wonder how many of these spirits are around in the world, causing trouble..."

Tien nodded to the team and got back into his car, Gladius following and taking place behind the wheel.

Mato sizes up the ork's cybernetic eye and leg out of professional curiosity. Without his armor jacket on, Mato's cyberarms are showing. His jeans may not be entirely blue collar but at least they're not designer.

"Skraa, cerri," he tells the ork in Or'zet, which translates to Greetings, chummer.

If it seems like it's building credibility, he'll pepper his conversation with Or'zet.

"Yeah, it's not mine," he answers the ork, trying to telegraph his intent.

"The owner died in an accident. She wasn't a SINner, nobody's going to come looking for it." This might not be technically true, but it seems close enough for Mato's purposes.

He juts his chin at the C-N Journey. "Car needs a good ereth [home], and this looks like one. What's the yerz?" It translates at "money" but in this context it could mean "finder's fee".

The ork looked the car over, walked around it, looked under it and popped the hood. Then he shrugged: "So, you are selling the car on behalf of the heirs. I can give you 4k for it, if you can transfer ownership. 3k if you don't."

"Yes, proceeds are going to the estate," Mato confirms solemnly.

"However, she passed unexpectedly without proper estate planning. I don't have Power of Attorney so I can't transfer ownership.

"3K sounds like a fair lick of the lollipop. Sold."

The ork grinned and pulled a cred stick from his pocket, held it to his commlink for a moment and tossed it to Mato.

"Come by Larry's again if you happen to help another family sell their old car."

With that, the ork climbed inside and drove the car into the garage. The doors closed and the deal was done. Only then did Mato manage to deciver the sign on the building:

"Larry's garage
We buy your car, no questions asked!"

I grin at Gladius, "I am looking forward to it" I help pack our car, letting Raven have the foci, Tamarid steals a dongle for her own. I have no idea why she leaves the RCC there if we're down the path of stealing from the dead, but I am sure the Trickster wouldn't mind. Such actions open up so many amusing possibilities. I wonder if it is a code of morality or just the practicality of illegally transferring ownership of a device located in what appears to be a murder scene. Truth be told, I am out of my depth here - never burned anyone alive before, but it felt familiar.

All these thoughts are an attempt not to think other thoughts that I do think about despite my best efforts not to. I reiterate the tormented look on Arione's face, the excruciating pain and endless regeneration making her body remember it repeatedly as we increase the amount of lighter's fluid to ensure the deed is done. It all felt too familiar as if I have seen it before or been there before. It felt right, not shocking, not terrifying I would not be having nightmares about it, I enjoyed it, though I won't admit it, even to myself.

Getting my senses back, I reformat the device erasing the back door. Trying to eliminate any digital sign that I ever touched it. I am relieved that Mato is handling the car sales. I don't like to be social right now. I pack my gear in silent, including the new gas grenades and ammo, and a gas mask that I did not use. "Praise Iktomi, for everything in this magnificent ride I call life." I whisper silently.