<<Monday Morning - 08:00 - May 15, 2079 - Daily News>>

Politics

It's all about the upcoming Special Election Runoff between Nikola Taul and Corinne Potter. Both candidates are neck and neck according to recent polls.

The FRFZ

News from the Front Range Free Zone have been tickling in ever since Ghostwalker made it his domain, evicting every government entity and the Native American Nations from Denver, and taking full control. The spectacular display of power from about two months ago, when the dragon himself abruptly ended an attack from UCAS military forces on his own Zone Defense Force, is still vividly remembered. The former sectors, that Denver was divided into starting all the way back in 2018 with the First Treaty of Denver, are gone. Many of the control points inside the city have been dismantled. Denver is now one big city with a total of nineteen, semi-autonomous districts.

Sports

After several defeats the Seattle Screamers, Seattle's premier league Urban Brawl team, are looking for new talent to bolster their ranks in the hopes of getting the team back to what it once was.





<<Monday Afternoon - 12:37 - May 15, 2079 - SIS, Bellevue>>

Priority Call incoming... it's the man himself, Captain Razak.

<< SIS. I have a job for you. Got a call from an old acquaintance of mine, Jarone Falcone, who is in a bit of a situation. He is running a corporate retreat at his ranch in Brighton. Yes, Denver. Things have calmed down quite a bit over there by now, otherwise I wouldn't even ask. This place is his retirement plan. He was in the shadow business as a fixer, but is out of the game for a while now. He left that world behind after he got shot and paralized from the waist down years ago. His background isn't public knowledge, so keep that in mind. And he does not know anything about our arrangements, you are simply a referral. Now he's running the Horse Trot Ranch, providing some quality downtime to those suit-types. And one of his guests was taken tonight. In the morning, he found a ransom note, and now he needs someone to help bring his customer back. Discreetly. He would prefer that help coming from outside his own circle, he obviously still has connections, but also some enemies from back in the day, which is why he called me. He would like to meet at his ranch at 18:00 today to discuss terms in person. I can have a plane ready that gets you to Cheyenne in about two hours. From there, you should be able to make it in time. And remember, spirits are considered citizens in the FRFZ with the same rights as metahumans. Those can get you into some serious trouble over there. Any questions? >>

"I might have to sit this one out," Rachel says. "I am still occupied with my initiation rite. But I could offer you my stash of preparations, which I have been preparing during the past few weeks and kept in the vault."

Mato checks the time. They have 5 hours to make it to Denver.

"This is tight," he says. "We basically need to drop everything, pack, and get to the plane. That's an hour. Then two hours to Cheyenne, then another 160km into Denver. Gonna be snug."

<<How are we getting across the FRFZ border?>> Mato asks Razak. <<Legally or less legally? Are you arranging that leg of the transportation or are we running it ourselves?>>

His gaze drifts over to Tamarind. He assumes that she knows how to slalom a t-bird through the Rockies to drop into Denver under the radar.

"I have never been to Denver," he admits to the others. "Here, let's see if the Horse Trot Ranch has a Matrix presence..." He tries to pull it up on his commlink to see what the setting is like.

An open-ended scenario like this was a challenge.

"Do we need suits to blend in with the corpers? No, probably not. They're likely in Ares Victory. Probably the Globetrotter and Wild Hunt lines. I'm guessing Big Game Hunter would be a bit much.

"Would the Chasseur Field Uniform be appropriate?" he asks, half-rhetorically. "I feel like a footman when I wear it, but it is exceedingly functional."

He waits for Razak's response to decide how much (and what kind of) luggage he can bring with him.

<< I know the schedule is tight, >> Razak replies. << But time is also of the essence. Nothing new there. Given the situation, if you are running a little late, I'm sure he will understand. >>

<< You can get anything you want into Cheyenne, that route is well-established, but Denver is a bit trickier, of course. You could very much just travel legally. I can provide a decent ride. There are some automated scans along the way, but that's pretty much it. The ZDF is spread thin, and the area is huge, to say the least. If you need anything beyond what you can take legally, I can see what I can do, but it will take some extra time, so it would likely be delivered later. Falcone might also be able to provide you with equipment on site. >>

<< As for other guests at the ranch, I am pretty certain, that he does not want you to interact with them at all, if possible. Keep the whole operation under the radar. It's his reputation, that is on the line there. >>

The Horse Trot Ranch does have a Matrix presence, of course. It is mostly advertisement and a booking system. There are a bunch of beautiful pictures of the ranch itself, the horses, and the amazing landscape. Mato gets the impression, that the ranch is very large.

Tamarind goes paler and paler as she listens to the message, and afterwards she goes to her room hugs Stitch and pats Beauty for a while. Something she hasn't been doing as much of lately.

Five minutes later she asks the rest of the team to pull together to discuss the mission. As soon as they are together she blurts out "Something you should all know, that I should have told you at first. How I got entangled with Razzak originally was back when he was working internal security in the Sioux, and they were looking to weaken the power of some of the smuggling syndicates. Mine was pretty good, but we had lots of places we worked out of, moved around, didn't leave much signature. But I'd been planting wildflower seeds. Nobody would notice a few wildflowers, I thought, but someone recognized the pattern and managed to backtrack to me eventually. They picked me up when I was on a break, back in Butte, immersed in a hot sim game. They bypassed my security, and I came out of hot sim to find myself in prison."

A few gulps of air, then she continues. "They cracked me in two days. I gave them everything -- who, where, how, the works. In return Razzak got me out of the Sioux -- first in Seattle for some years, then into the Front Range Free Zone in '75 until the expulsion, working for a smuggling network that was more PCC based. Even then I kept a low profile, didn't talk to anyone too much, leaned into my AMC fake ID that he provided, worried that networks would cross and word would get out. That's why, after the expulsion, I came here instead back to the Sioux. I don't know if anyone figured out that I sold them out, but I can't talk to anyone from back then, just trying to look them in the eye would be ...." She visibly crumbles at the thought, whispering "They were my friends. One had been my lover. I sold them all out in just two days."

She messages the last of what she wants to say <<So you see why I don't want to deal with any smugglers working out of Cheyenne, at least not directly. If we need to work with any for getting material in, or us out, I need to keep a very low profile.>>

Truly, this may not seem like that big of deal to some people, depending on their views on the primacy of loyalty -- but the Sioux generally prizes loyalty highly. And obviously Tamarind feels crushing shame and guilt around this topic.

Mato listens politely. Perhaps he is privately impressed with Tamarind's vulnerability, or maybe it's a data point against her.

"Two days?" he asks with a tone somewhere between contemplative and curiosity.

"With the Sioux mindbreakers, I would have expected two minutes," he continues. "Two days is good."

He gives a small nod of recognition.

"In that situation, the reality is that it's not 'if' it's 'when'. So you stall them. You ration out the intel little by little, drawing things out, giving your people time to find out and go to ground.

"But you have to give them something, or they just put you two meters under. I wouldn't call that selling them out; I'd call that buying your life."

Bobby looked - if anything - exited at the news.
"Quite a lot of wildlife around. I wanted back to the Rockies for a while."
Listening to Tamarind he said: "Don't worry about that. We'll kit you out and AM gives you a makeover. And if all else fails, we'll vanish - either ourselves or them.
Ha. If I never went back to the places where I fucked up, I could go nowhere anymore."

“Captain Razak in the digital flesh.” Let's see what he wants, but first, I need to try not to get myself killed. I narrowly dodge a spinning pillar of fire and run toward the exit; hordes of evil mushrooms and flying turtles are after me. Evil Mario helps me out in one of the jumps, and then we have an epic last fight... We lose... AGAIN. I blame Captain Razak for calling just at the crucial moment.

>>Princess Peach: Got work. Sorry, the boss is calling. “Evil Mario” protests, but I can only offer my gaming partner a sympathetic smile, which sits strangely on my cartoonish face. Then I vanished, and when I opened my eyes, I was at home again, where only Mato could jump as high as I did a moment ago. It must feel amazing to move so fast for real.

I have never met Evil Mario. He could be twelve, but he is about my skill level, which makes things fun. I could find him up with computer skills, but it feels intrusive. I give Mato a grinning look, imagining him doing the real-life obstacle trail. It takes me a moment to adjust to the real world after playing the Mushroom Kingdom Epic Experience ™. The call catches me with a complete surprise. A ransom case? Somewhere in Denver with that dragon Tamarind escaped from? This is intense.

I am not very worried about air travel because I upgraded my SIN within the last few weeks and bought one for my mother. I plan to bring her from Cheyanne to Seattle to be with me. I promised her that I’d go back for her if I made it up on my own, and as impossible as she is, I would try to make good on that promise when Raven says that the initiation keeps her from joining us. I feel skeptical after all; I am also working on initiation. Well, I am playing simsenses instead of working on my initiation, but boy, am I stuck with the flexible signature technique. I could use a breather... Perhaps she studies more like Bobby, that does some mental journey alone in nature, than like myself, who studies my ass off until I figure things out.

“You can’t bind spirits there anyhow...” I add neutrally to Raven, not wanting to get into the shamanic/hermetic divide on the subject. I am trying to get past my magical education not to become it. She is very generous in offering the alchemical preparation, but I leave using these to Mato and Tamarind because I have my mojo to sling around, even if it is admittedly modest in power.








As Tamarind voices her worries about it, I comment, “Poor thing...” As she voices being interrogated and lasting two days, the woman has seen the worst of people. “They knew the risks when getting into this line of work...” I add to the conversation to ease the woman’s guilt about it. You gave them 48 hours to figure it out. You took a lot of shit for them, don't blame them for being interrogated. It is hard to keep secrets...

And to Bobby, “I am kind of excited to travel, and my SIN has been fortified a lot after the incident at the animal clinic so that part should be okay... Even if international borderlines are a bit risky. ”

I then text Tam. A lover? How was it? anything serious? perhaps she'll indulge me.

"What do we think, team?" Mato asks the others.

"Going in legally" - a sideways glance at AM - "I mean, going in publicly gets us a ride from Razak. Bobby, do you want to get scanned or just fly over the border?

"I'd like to bring the Mannlicher but I don't want any fuss from the scanners. I can get by with what's on hand, or what Falcone has readily available.

"I have the smuggling compartment in my leg. I don't think I can fit the Erika in there, but maybe some preparations."

Mato is uncertain about the utility of the preparations, as he knows his cybernetic nature makes him resistant to some of the enhancements that the others use.

"What do they do?" he asks Rachel.

Mannlicher so badass. Appreciate the retro vibes.

"I may pass legally, but the Erika is highly illegal, and there is no way even to fake a license to use it. So she can't travel with me, either we find a creative way and in that case, the guns can go as well, or I'll leave it here but in that case, we'll have very limited hacking capabilities."

She looks at Bobby "Any chance you can bring my deck as a coyote or something?"

"My understanding is that the FRFZ has a fence around it, the logic being that it was 'friendlier' to its neighbors than a wall. Now the fence might be electrified and be laced with monofilament, but it's 'nicer', neh?

"Although I don't know if Ghostwalker has changed or upgraded anything in the last two months. Probably not, as the snow doesn't stop falling until April and then sticks around at least until May. Makes large-scale construction difficult."

<<How sophisticated are those automated scans?>> Mato asks Razak. <<Any guidelines about what can and cannot get through without friction?>>

"I have prepared four different types. One that makes it easier to avoid harm, one that greatly enhances your reactions when things get hectic. That one won't work for Bobby, not sure about you. And it requires a special item to use, a little like a perfume dispenser, but I can give you the two I have, just bring those back, please. Then invisibility, and a climbing enhancer. I pretty much went all-out on those, so they are high-powered and should have a strong effect. Got a few headaches, too. They should last for at least 5 minutes when they are activated. The strongest ones a little more," Rachel explains. "And they will be good for at least 30~36 hours once I remove them from the vault, many even more than that, before they start losing their power."



Razak also replies. << As far as we know, they have moderate ID scanners. They scan the vehicle and all passengers. Nothing unusual there, really. And they also have scanners to look for contraband, mostly weapons and drugs, I assume. Powered-down electronics should not be much of a problem. I can also look into getting a car with a shielded compartment. >>

Tamarind is amazed that her teamates don't seem worried about the potential for her to sell them out, given her history. But she holds back from saying anything further.

For entering the zone she offers "The FRFZ has had weird priorities ever since Ghostwalker took over. We might get looked at more carefully for having awakened with us, for example. I can't say that I understand it, I was working to support people flying in illegally, not so much those sneaking things in by land. Still, we should be clear on our story and make sure that we have the supporting material and are consistent with it."

"As for my stuff, my standard drone kit is all tasers for now. We have the high powered weapons we got in Texas but I've not installed them anywhere yet. My only real concern is if we have room for my larger drones. The small stuff is easy, but the Pelippers, Lazybones and Mimic, Stitch, and especially Toothless do take up space." By now the team knows that she is talking about her Pelican delivery drones, mini-zeps, Proletarian mechanic's helper, and the long, tracked, paramedic drone that can manage low-end highway speeds. "I'd like to take Toothless if possible, for the abiltiy to rip things open, or charge in and start apply first aid, but it counts at least as a person for space. Well, we'll check about room on the plane and what size of vehicle Razak can provide."

"I can rip things open!" Mato protests. "First aid... Toothless probably has me there.

"Let's just keep the story close to the truth: we're tourists on our way to Horse Trot Ranch. I'd ask for a reservation but I'm guessing that Falcone won't want us on the books. Maybe AM can mock up a convincing facsimile. Bobby, Tamarind, and I are all Sioux nationals so it makes sense we're coming from Cheyenne."

He looks to AM. "You upgraded your SIN, so you're still Emma Miller, neh? If so, great. If not, we'll need to know your new name and cover story.

"As for the scanners, I'll skip the guns and explosives and will stick with sharp, pointy things that I can throw."

Bobby shrugged:
"I could try to smuggle things over for you, but honestly, that would take too much time. And it's not like it's hard to come by weapons over there. The Mannlicher should be easy to get there - it's prime hunting area out there and the Mannlicher is a classic hunting rifle.

The Erika is more of a problem. But that deck should fit into Mato's smuggling container if we separate the cooling units from the mainboard. Alternatively, I've still got that stealth tag abomination hacking device.

I myself carry only a taser anyway and that is legal anywhere. Might be a good addition in bear country for all of you in any case.

We'll have to pack light, so I'll leave it at my dufflebag with my beast armor."

"I am Emma Miller, born and raised in New York City as a law-abiding UCAS citizen." I say, grinning at the irony of the situation. I was actually raised very close to Cheyenne, but no documents. Lying to get to your hometown...


I could... take Erika to parts, but don't expect her to like it. As for the weapons department, "I'll go unarmed unless I can carry a proper firearm. Tasers are a bit embarrassing and would not deter an attacker like a proper gun.

"The taser isn't for deterring - it's for tazing. Someone gets in your face, you zap them before they can do anything more stupid.
And having a holstered weapon on your person is the norm there. If you taze a sleazeball you can afterwards take his gun. And if you use the gun, you can discard it and it's the sleazeball's problem. It's all upside."

Bobby grinned and winked at AM.

"You have a criminal mind, mister Walker." I say as a compliment. Well, not sure the average person would see it as a compliment but Bobby could have survived as a sinless. Which I am not sure many sinners would have. Perhaps they would, but not the way they are. I don't need guns; I just like them. I mean, we were in an actual gunfight when rescuing Bernt. I was armed, and I still chose spells. As for a Taser... It would be funnier to put these boxing sessions to good use if it ever comes to that.

"Understandable. But honestly: Never play with your prey unless it's unavoidably part of a plan. Never give them the chance to get one over you. There are a lot of dead people who brought fists to a gun fight. Shoot first and you shoot last."

Bobby's playfulness had turned somber once more:

"We are heading into an abduction. That means we are facing the same situation that we had with Brent. This time we shoot first."

"AM has a formidable physique now. And she has something the rest of us don't: words. I might suggest that she start with those."

He turns to AM.

"Your boxing is quite good. However, not every fight stays on the feet. I might suggest some ground fighting. Wrestling, either sport or MMA, or jiu-jitsu, either Japanese or Brazilian. Cutty knows them all. If you have that as a foundation, you'll be even more confident on your feet."

He tries to put the Erika in his leg and it works!

"Look at that," he says, modeling his leg which does not appear to have a cyberdeck inside of it. "That won't solve the drone issue, but maybe Razak can get that shielded compartment for us.

"The bigger question is, 'What about Trouble?' I'm pretty sure that Ghostwalker's ban on conjuring will flag Trouble. Maybe it's less of an issue out in the rural areas, but there's still a risk involved."

He stands.

"Time is short so let's pack. We'll iron out details on the flight."

I protest when Mato says that only I have words in a nonverbal Sioux sign language queue meaning 'nonsense'. Not sure if they follow me but I don't want to open to discussion about how the guys can achieve wonders with social skills and how they evolved over the last months. I guess I play the Jawsie of this mission.

When Mato manages to put Erika inside, I chuckle. "Little Erika is growing... she was never inside a guy before... Bring her home by midnight or something."

I answer to Mato Thanks for the curriculum advice. I never thought to use boxing. I started doing it for gigs and kept going because it helped me keep my center with everything that happened to you and the new housing arrangements. and to Bobby , I'll buy a taser if you insist, but I will make it a pink one with unicorns if you ever need to borrow it.

I look at Trouble, which is annoyingly invisible. "Looks like you'll be seating this one out, love. I'll let you decide what to do on this issue. You can go to the Fun House, stick with Raven, pull off a few pranks, or even visit Cheyenne and get to know mom or something, she knows about you but have never met you." I tell the cat spirit that manifests Cheshire cat style for gigs. It was funny when they first learned how to do it. The two of us watched Alice in Wonderland together for the first time, and Trouble empathized with the magical cat, which turned the entire story around. I swear that if Trouble's form could smile, they would have. Perhaps I should figure out how to code that into their spirit formula. Instead, the spirit materializes and places itself next to my leg, marking me as theirs.

Bobby shrugged: "Do that. Such a design will ensure no-one steels it. An opponent might even be misled that it's a toy.
Actually, order one for me too - and don't skimp on adding laser sights and a molded grip. Essential to hit precisely."

<< Alright then, if there is nothing else. When anything comes to mind, you can still reach me, while you are in the air. Your flight will be ready when you arrive at Sea-Tac. There is a small, private airport called "Number Sixteen" at these coordinates -[- GPS coordinates attached -]-, where you can board your plane, no questions asked. You will be expected. I'll see you in Cheyenne. Razak out. >>

It's time to make some preparations...

True to his declaration, Bobby only packed legal stuff: His tazer, the body armor bag filled with the animal armor and the vision gear, as well as a few small bags containing about 20 drams of reagents, as well as a survival pack and a miniwelder.

"I'm ready, let's go."

Mato mostly needs the clothes on his back, but packs a bit more to be ready for a variety of situations.

He figures they'll be driving straight to the meet and there won't be much time to change. He dons his Chasseur Field Uniform (as tailored by AM). He packs his armor jacket and ballistic mask in case he needs to change into something less formal.

He leaves behind the AK-97, Ingram Smartgun X, and Walther P118. The grenades get left too. He waffles about the Mannlicher Marpingen and decides to postpone the decision for a few minutes. That leaves him with some shuriken and throwing knives for moment.

Of course, there's the commlinks: a Transys Avalon and a burner Meta Link. He makes sure the Transys is broadcasting his real Sioux national SIN.

The gear is a bit less certain. He slips his chemsniffer ring onto his finger while he debates some of the B&E gear. "Autopicker, bug scanner, area jammer, lockpick set, micro-transceiver, sequencer, tag eraser, and tool kit. Survival kit? Bobby will have one. Slap patches, of course."

He's got a full bag by the time he's done so he figures he might as well bring along the Mannlicher and its not-so-legal ammunition.

<<Actually, a vehicle with a shielded compartment would be great>> he tells Razak. <<And can we get something large enough to accommodate a Medcart? Thanks.>>

"I'll use one of my fake IDs, because it is where I have my weapons licenses -- so I'm Antonia Babtista for the duration, licensed for driving, weapon carry, security consultant, and as press. Hopefully it will hold up to scrutiny?

My weapons are acceptable under my license, my drones are legal, and are only carrying tasers. The weapon mounts themselves are restricted, but so far I've been OK under 'security consultant' license where as a security rigger people don't look too hard at my RCC or flying tasers. I don't know that I meet the letter of the law on licensing those, but I'm also not even sure what the letter of the law is in Denver currently. It is really only the commlink dongles that are outright illegal -- perhaps Mato could carry those, and only pull them as needed?"

Then Tamarind packs up her long coat, respirator, a spare pair of her professional travel clothes, and her weapons (Ingram, Executive Action, taser, and all their their ammunition). Meanwhile she gives her drones their standard orders for getting ready for travel, and by the time she has packed Stitch already had them all lined up, and is wearing a knit winter cap that Tamarind had made for it (the cap is a bit lop-sided and bumpy, as it was one of her earlier knitting efforts, but that doesn't bother Stitch).

For a weapon, I start with my very own Urban Tomawak, “a proper Sioux weapon,” as my dad used to say, which I was never strong enough to use without magic properly. Since it is entirely legal, and I am a shaman, it makes sense that I’ll have it along with two smaller, legal-throwing knives. I take the Wild Hunt for protection and will change during the flight. It would help me blend in with the guests, being the outdoorsy hiking area, and it is also quite protective. With the best the Cunnigham family had to offer its employees. I also take the Canteen Govi that I mainly use for storing a watcher spirit but is also well... a canteen. I added the Ghillie suit because spirit concealment is limited with Trouble and Raven staying behind.

A ghillie suit and a Berwick dress for the same woman... In the same duffle bag, who would have figured? I take the sexy undergarment, which I never used, kind of like the lackluster condom on that student’s wallet. (Gosh... I miss pickpocketing idiots). I also take the armored jacket for emotional support, but I should probably burn it. It is meant for a tall guy with so many bad memories.

I take my two new surveillance drones, which are entirely legal and would be outclassed by Tamarind’s equipment, which has names and anything. However, the flying eye is also a combat option, containing a flash-pak and a smoke grenade. An expensive distraction, perhaps, but a hostage situation can go south. Reagents anything I have in case I need to make a watcher spirit.

Guns under my bed... I have a soft place for the two baddies. The Sigma is an automatic sub-machine gun capable of hitting the mark reliably at 40 meters and suppressing an area. The Walter has a shorter range and is less practical, but it feels better in my hands.

>> Guys... I want my two sweeties with me. Sigma is practical, but Walter also wants to go for emotional support. Anyone else bringing guns - if I am the only one, I’ll spare you the hassle.

Shortly after, I left my room with a small trolly for fine and daily clothes and a duffle bag with the rest of the equipment. I placed them in the car; perhaps it would be best to use Tamarind’s van. I’ll see what the team decides to take - I could also go with the bike if we’re low on space.

I hand Tamarind my Horizion's flying eye and ask her - "Can you bring it for me with the rest of your drones?"

"I'm bringing the Mannlicher," Mato tells AM. He then explains his logic even though nobody asked him to.

"With my hands and arms I'm good at close ranges. If you're within 50 meters, you're mine. But at ranges farther than that I'm at a disadvantage. And we're not starting off in an urban environment, but a rural environment with lots of open spaces. That's where the rifle comes in.

"Maybe the trail will lead us into the city, at which point the rifle won't be as useful. But maybe we have another situation like we did with the Bellevue Hackers Club when we found ourselves at The Wild Orc Recreation Ranch, fighting in the mountains and forests.

"Anyway, I asked Razak for a shielded compartment if you want to put more in there."

He looks over what she packed. "Definitely bring the Walther," he suggests, uncertain if AM was asking for opinions between the Sigma and Walther, or was announcing her desire to bring both. "It will fit in the Wild Hunt's holster.

"Do you want the ghillie suit? I think one of Rachel's bon-bons makes us invisible." Or maybe he's just looking for an excuse not to bring his own ghillie suit. His does have thermal dampening though, which could be useful for defeating thermographics, especially at night in the mountains when the ambient temperature is so cold.

He grabs the preparations from Rachel and carries them gently, as if they might explode with rough handling.

"Only for a few minutes, though. These are not good for long stakeouts or something like that," Rachel explains.

"Good luck, guys! I will hold the fort in the meantime."

Mato sighs and goes back to stuff his ghillie suit into his bag. It doesn't fit that well and there are bits of netting, burlap, and scraps of foliage spilling out out of the zipper.

"My mother used to say, 'Better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it.'" Mato's tone conveys some skepticism. "Then she grossly overpacked. Weekend trip? Two full suitcases. One time she wanted to bring the kitchen knives but my father - well, the man who raised me - wouldn't let her."

"50 meters with melee!" I say astonished. "I knew you were super fast, but I never thought about the implications." I explained, even though he didn't ask, because I like talking about guns. "The Sigma can be reliably stretched for 50-60 meters, as far as I can go. I never trained on bigger guns because I could barely hold them.
Though, as an automatic weapon, its main use would be suppression to let you close the distance reliably. Keep them pinned. "

I stash the Walter in the Wild Hunt.
"The Walter is for close combat, and Cutty has taught me how to fire it at point blank while in melee, so it is likely my go-to weapon if anything gets way too close for comfort." I say fondly, "Now the Sigma can do 50 meters, but what it does best is suppression. It lets you cover distance when the enemy is pinned and is less likely to harm you. My throwing weapons are also for protection; I need them in line of sight because I use telekinesis and don't even have to hold them... just in case you wondered why I have knives on display in my room."

" My best bet is magic, petrify against a person and mana barrier like Gladius taught me against anything dual-natured. All the other weapons are as backup in case someone can counterspell me or they are using these anti magic armor. Our most glaring weakness without Raven is powerful spirits like we faced on that texas job. I can do the mana barrier trick, but it works so well for Gladius because his talent is considerably stronger than mine. We don't have good options for that kind of threat.

I definitely brought the Ghillie suit and the gas mask, though. Can't help anyone if someone sends me to sleep." Having played the big brave girl role, I soften up and tell Mato. "I just hate that we can't bring Trouble... It will be our first time apart."

"Well, at 50 meters I was thinking about throwing one of these through their face," Mato says, holding up a throwing knife.

"I could charge. With the skimmers I can maintain a consistent pace of 95, 96 kph. If I sprint I can hit 125kph for a few seconds at a time. That can catch you off-guard if you're not expecting it."

He nods approvingly at the Urban Tribe Tomahawk.

"I like those," he says. "They have a good weight to them. They feel good in the hand. I'd really like a gunstock war club, one made of wood like the ones the Lakota used 200 years ago. Maybe I can find one in Cheyenne. Mostly just for show. We could do a display on the wall of throwing knives and tomahawks.

"Do you like the Sigma? You're bigger now; I bet you could handle an assault rifle better than you could before. You should try my AK-97 sometime, see how it feels. Spirits knows it could use the work... I've barely touched it in six months. I'd have to take the personalized grips off, but that's easy enough.

"SMGs are firing pistol calibers. The rifle calibers just feel different. Firmer, more substantial. I think it's more satisfying, personally. You might like it now that you have the muscle mass to absorb the recoil."

Mato likes Trouble and looks reasonably sympathetic about the prospect of being away from him.

"Well, 'apart' physically, right? Don't you feel him in your head, and vice versa? Maybe you can find out if you can notice him purring from 1,600 kilometers away. Or bring him on the plane and leave him with your mother in Cheyenne."

What not to like with the Sigma? The gas vent system, folding stock, and foregrip all work together in harmony to keep the gun stable as you fire. That gun stays where I point it, and I can shoot seven or eight bullets without stopping, and it comes with a built-in smart gun. I saw it and was instantly in love, I didn't need physical strength to fire it at all. Most importantly, each drum has 50 bullets so I can be generous with the lead."


"Now recoil depends on the projectile's mass and velocity versus the firearm's mass, so the 97 has more mass and can potentially be gentler on the shooter despite having a faster bullet. It is carrying and holding that got me focused on small arms.
I'd like to try the 97 - perhaps you want to shoot with me after this gig? You know, give me a few pointers and rid the world of evil beer bottles. "


-Trouble-
Well... I'll ask Trouble to stay close enough but safe. The thing is shamans don't bind spirits. So, I sort of bent the rules already by using the template of a bound spirit to create Trouble. The thing is, it did not work without a strong anchor to our world. I used myself as one kind of like how Raven can keep a spirit in here where it would otherwise go to another metaplane. So, that was the only solution that worked. It still feels wrong to force Trouble to do my bidding. So having them remain on their own, out of reach where I cannot intervene, is a big step for us.

"Yeah, we'll go shoot. I'm no instructor but I'm a competent amateur.

"I have the Walther from Pike Hall and I think it's wiz, but ..." He trails off.

"Remember Katya Komarova from Pike Hall? That piece of work. I shot her with the Walther and it did nothing. At some point, against some opposition... if the caliber is too small then you're just flattening rounds against body armor faster than before.

"Remember, before the blast, I used to have the submachine gun in my left arm? It was a neat trick to have up my sleeve - literally - but it had no stopping power. I couldn't depend on it. I'm glad it's gone. It freed up other possibilities. I now have a nutritional and biowaste storage systems so I don't need to eat, drink, or use the bathroom for a full day. Great for when you're in a sniper position for extended periods."

He holds up the Mannlicher to make his point about sniping.

Tamarind listens in to the guns and tactics discussion with interest. It is good to know your team mates likes and strategies and ways of thinking.

At the end she muses "I'm not really bringing anything with firing range. I'm far better at shooting things from a drone or vehicle than by myself, but I hadn't really thought that at a detective agency I'd need a serious combat drone -- but this looks to have the possibility to be the 2nd of 3 jobs where we may be out of the city and needing the ranges. Not enough time to do anything about it now, but maybe I need to look into setting up a drone that way. But for right now, should I bring one of the longer guns we picked up in Texas? If nothing else I can provide some covering fire, in a pinch."

I grin when he mentions Katya; it feels so badass to levitate her to mid-air, undoing all her investment in combat and armor. Every pot has a lid, but no lid fits all pots. I answer; I see his point about stopping power. I just don't think 'shooting' is a solution to any situation. It's the same thing with hacking, talking, and sorcery. You should always tackle a problem by its weakest link. In Katya's case, it was likely magic, but perhaps a neuro stun grenade would have worked the same.

I muse for a moment and then ask , "Did you ever get to read that Book the Duchess gave me?".

Bobby looked on in wonder as his coworkers discussed weapons. He had learned to use guns - handguns specifically - during his time in the army. He had even kept up the training, although he had to admit his last visit to the gun range had been at least a month ago.
But all that had been, before he had learned to turn other people into jelly fish with merely a though. There were drones where that didn't work, but that was why he kept a taser around. Or an electrified giraffe. That usually worked too.

"I did read it," Mato nods to AM. "With the sleep regulator, I have a lot of time at night.

"I tried reading it in Spanish - La colmena - but it was too much. I learned modern Aztlaner Spanish while the book was written in Castilian Spanish from 130 years ago. It was too different so I switched back to English.

"It's not a happy book. And there are, what, 300 characters? It made me wish for a mnemonic enhancer. The chronological disorder just muddies things further.

"I wonder why the Duchess liked it so much."

<<Monday Afternoon - 13:01 - May 15, 2079 - SIS, Bellevue>>

Having packed everything you want to bring along, while Bobby has been tapping his feet for the last twenty minutes or so, the team is ready to head out.

After taking some extra time to store the guns, so you do not run into any trouble with a routine check on the way to the airport, you are on your way.



<<Monday Afternoon - 13:48 - May 15, 2079 - South of Sea-Tac, Downtown>>

Razak's coordinates direct you towards Gate 26-C in the southern parts of Sea-Tac. You drive past various signs marking the area as "Restricted Access" and "Closed for renovations". Through the fence, that is closing off the territory, you can see numerous buildings in various stages of demolition and re-construction. This area of Sea-Tac is under "renovations" for over a decade now. They sure do not seem to have a lot of interest in making any headway there.

At the gate itself, a bored-looking ork in an ill-fitting security uniform sits in a small guard shack. He quickly checks your credentials and then directs you to the building "Number Sixteen", three buildings over on the left. As you head down the access road, you notice that some of the buildings look like they are still in use. Power cables, obvious security measures, and sat-uplinks are visible. "Number Sixteen" is a converted hangar. The walls are lined with repair bays, where various types of vehicles, ground and aircraft, are stored for maintenance or modification. Two Steel Lynx drones equipped with heavy machine guns patrol the hangar. They do not react to your presence in any way. Near the massive bay doors, positioned to move out at any time, sits a matte-black GMC Banshee. One of the maintenance hatches is open, and a pink-haired human woman in her mid to late twenties wearing a flight suit sits there, typing in the air with AR gloves.

Before you can get her attention, a confident voice comes from elsewhere inside the hangar. A short but athletically built human with obvious cybereyes and iron-grey hair, who appears to be somewhere between fifty and sixty, heads towards you. He is wearing a mechanics overall and an old-school flight jacket. At his right hip, he carries a holstered Ares Predator V. The man raises one hand in greeting. "I wouldn't interrupt Osprey. She gets a bit cranky when someone does that. Hoi, name's Blackhawk. I hear you need a ride." Somewhere in the background the head of a young girl with a mop of blonde hair, no older than eight, pops up, curiously observing the new arrivals with a pair of blue eyes.

Mato keeps his sensors running, both for practice as well as a precaution in an unfamiliar environment.

"How do you do, Blackhawk?" Mato says somewhat formally. After introducing himself he says, "Yes, you heard correctly."

Mato privately studies Blackhawk's cybereyes. Mato had gone for a more natural appearance when he got his. There's now a bit of orange in his irises, almost like a bear's eyes, to help warm up the chocolate brown, but for the most part they are not obvious.

Mato's personal opinion was the people reacted more strongly to obviously cybereyes than cyberlimbs. They were both common, of course, but there was a subset of people who were decidedly squeamish when it came to eyeballs. Perhaps it all came back to those magic words, "voluntary replacement". It took a certain type of person to walk into a clinic and say, "These eyeballs I've had all my life? Scoop them out and put something mechanical in their place." It just so happened that Mato was one of those people.

"I've never flown on a Banshee before," he admits, studying the vehicle and running his scanners over it. "Brave new world."

He gives a nod of recognition to the blonde-haired girl. The look on his face isn't quite a smile, but perhaps the start of an amused smirk.

"I don't know many names, so I can't tell. Though, she did seem rather analog, which explains why the 200-year-old book. I find the masterful description of how seemingly random events cascade into dire consequences appealing, like a very early incarnation of the butterfly effect." I respond.

The drive to the airport and being in an airport is a bit stressful, well, more than a bit, but living on the right side of the fence with our security firm makes me gradually adjust to not running and hiding from men in uniform. I keep to myself and let Mato lead away.

"She is quite a looker," I say, looking at the Banshee with fascination. I then add "I am Emily, Em for short. Very nice to meet you, Mr. Blackhawk." It takes a few moments to get used to the obvious cyber eyes the man carries, but eventually, you can get used to anything.


I astrally examine Blackhawk, the pink-haired lady, and the little girl. Not because I am suspicious but because it is part of my senses, and I look at everyone like that.



When I first notice the little girl, I wave a small "hi" but otherwise keep my attention on the adults.

Tamarind was happy to use her van's smuggling compartment to keep guns hiddon on the way to the SeaTac airport, always nice to use a mostly ignored feature. Otherwise the drive is perfectly dull, which is perfect by her.

When she sees the Banshee she resolves to bite her tongue and keep her opinions to herself. It was a free ride, so best not to knock it. She nodded a greeting to Blackhawk, and just says "Let us know when we can stow our gear, and where it should go. "

"Doin' alright. Thanks!" Blackhawk replies. His eyes are nothing special. Likely some off-the-shelves stuff. Black irises. More functional than fancy.

Mato's radar sensor has a hard time piercing the Banshee's hide. There seems to be some radar-absorbing material in place, as well as a really thick body.

As some of the gazes get fixed on the big bird, the man chuckles proudly. "Ahhh... 'Black Sunshine'. She's a beaut, right? You lot gonna be in for a treat."

Blackhawk nods to Tamarind. "Right, right. I understand, you are in a bit of a hurry. This might not be the most subtle ride, but she will get you there in time. Just pile your stuff over here, and we can get on with it." He points to some empty boxes sitting near the cargo hatch.

AM can see Blackhawk's eye replacements in his aura, but there does not seem to be anything else. She would have expected some serious headware, at least. He is mundane and in good shape, and he feels excited. The love for his trade is pretty apparent. Unsurprisingly, his Essence is lower than AM's. Osprey is also mundane, healthy, and a bit bored. AM cannot make out any augmentations on her. The kid feels happy and excited, no maladies, no implants, and full Essence. She is a mundane as well.

As AM's eyes linger on the girl a little longer and when she waves at her, the kid flashes a big smile and then ducks behind her cover.

Bobby looked at the vehicle with a mix of appreciation and apprehension.
With a smile he turned to the pilot:

"You've been a while in this business, haven't you?
How much does this run cost our employer? Services like yours usually aren't cheap.
Do we need to watch out for anything beyond keeping all limbs inside at all time and not removing our hoops the seats?"

"A while and then some." Blackhawk chuckles. "Let's leave it at this isn't cheap. You guys better strap in, if it is your first time riding a t-bird. It's a little... rougher than your typical passenger plane. And we have to go fast to meet the timeline. Really fast."

He does seem more excited than annoyed by that prospect.

"No sightseeing, I'm afraid. You should still be able to take a look outside, though, and it's very much worth it. You guys look fit enough, you can probably handle a little rough and tumble."

"Looking forward to it..." I say and nod to indicate that the t-bird is indeed impressive. When Bobby joins the conversation, I place my bags in one of the boxes and declare "I take a window seat!" I take a few moments to appreciate the surroundings and perhaps.

I then offer Tamarind help with loading her drones as she has the most things to load.

Bobby nodded and made his way into the T-bird. Trying to remember, which animals were best equipped to handle acceleration forces that didn't also have hollow bones, he stowed his luggage. When AM claimed the window seat, he just smiled. Seeing the world from above at crazy speeds was a privilege for most other people. He didn't begrudge her that.
Instead he went to the seat furthest in the back and curled himself up in the form of a large cat.

There are no actual windows, though. The Banshee is a heavily armored military transport, not a civilian vehicle. The spartan interior has a total of 12 seats located along both sides, and plenty of room for cargo. The bulkiness of the hull is even more apparent, once you are getting inside. There is a gunnery station, from which the turret-mounted heavy machine gun can be operated, if the pilot isn't taking control of it. The cockpit itself is locked behind heavy metal doors, once Blackhawk has taken his seat there. He is going to fly Black Sunshine, the two girls are staying at "Number Sixteen".

It takes maybe ten minutes to load everything into the LAV, and secure the cargo. Remote-controlled slits at both sides glide open, revealing at least a little bit of a view, but it's still fairly restricted. It is very likely the best you will get, though. You might need to stand, in order to enjoy it as much as possible, but not during launch or acceleration phases.

Mato is familiar with the basics of smuggling in and out of Seattle, but he's never done it through the air. He prefers the farms of Snohomish that run right up to the border, the the tunnels of Carbonado that pass beneath it. Some liked the lava fields in Puyallup approaching what was left of Mt. Rainier, but Mato felt too exposed. Getting across them was semi-dependent on the geological activity of Rainier knocking out some key sensors, or otherwise confusing the system and putting it on the fritz. That wasn't anything he wanted to rely on.

Mato is certain his body can handle the promised rough-and-tumble, although he's somewhat less sure about his stomach. Was lunch going to stay put? He doesn't like sitting sideways and how the forces of acceleration were concentrated on a smaller surface area.

There's still a part of him that wonders why they're flying into Cheyenne instead of Denver. Was it simply to pass the border and officially announce, 'Hey, we're (officially) here'? Perhaps it speaks to the volatility of Denver; maybe the old routes and relays were no longer reliable and Razak was still setting up new ones.

"Will it fit the Econovan?" he asks, looking at all the cargo space in the Banshee. "Take our own ride with us?" He looks to Tamarind, uncertain of whether she'd prefer to work with something familiar or would rather outsource any risk to whatever ride Razak arranged.

There is plenty room for cargo, but not that much. A car just won't fit, besides the fact that there is no ramp big enough to load one.

Now, the exterior certainly is big enough, but much of the interior of the Banshee has to make room for the armored hull, engine, and thrusters.

The seats, however, have two positions, and can be rotated to face towards the front during flight.

"So no windows... heh?" I say disappointed to Mato. Bobby is doing his shape-change shtick again, and it would be a terrible conversation. I guess, "I'll have to make my window..." I am so using magic to peek outside once we're in the air - that is, as long as we fly close enough to the manosphere so that Bobby's spell holds.

My twisted mind has a pretty vivid image of how it will be... It might even give me a boon with the Trickster, but if Bobby stays in animal form, my spell would work, and I could peek outside or watch Blackhawk fly the thing. I don't turn back to a naked man and get smacked around the cabin and imagine myself flying this beast.

Despite the brave facade, I am very nervous before takeoff and hold on tightly to the chair. Anxious to be in the air already and hoping to survive the acceleration well. It is my first time in the air.