00:30:42 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

All the while Blaze was taking the hardcopy pictures out, Knight's eyes kept going from him to the giant troll standing close by. In a split second, everything could explode.

When the man finally extended the items toward him, the elf held back a sigh of relief.

Carefully and gently, he took them with his left hand, holding them over his shoulder so that Cao could reach for them without having to turn around.

00:30:47 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Cao took the pictures from Knight, stopping the urge to look at them before passing them on to Lady Dove.

"Do you wish me to ask them to step outside while you look? Sometimes, these things are better viewed alone," Cao whispered as he handed her the pictures.

15:03:08 Saturday, 13 January 2063 – The Unbottled Spirit, Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

Tony motioned for Sam to bring out another mug for both of them, as he downed the remaining half of his drink and wiped the icy cool bottom of the plastic mug against his still-burning lips. Sam dug the mugs out of the cooler and put the old ones into the sink as Tony poured another round with a calm that he didn't feel. Half of him wanted to rise to the fight, to do battle with whoever was trying to bring what looked to be the world down.

The smarter half, seeing the hard and people-ware in use earlier this week, wanted at least more information, if not to run and hide in the small cabin he had up in Everett with Reign till this blew over and he could get Andie out. Not going to happen this time, he thought, sliding the mug across to Sam.

"What about down in Calfree?" Tony asked, having poured his beer and pointing a meaty rib at Sam over the bartop and the styrofoam boxes.

15:03:51 Saturday, 13 January 2063 – The Unbottled Spirit, Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

"What about CalFree? The place has always been a powderkeg waiting for a match. Now that the PCC has moved in and Saito has been cut loose from the Empire the whole thing is set to blow. It doesn't help none that the Azzies are about done with the rebels in the Yucatan. They'll be able to free up a couple more divisions to send north. You better believe that's got the CAS worked up, too. I'm telling ya, kid, the world's been at detente too long. The whole house of cards is coming down."

Sam dropped his last rib onto his plate in disgust, drinking from his beer instead.

09:14:11 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - Remote Automatic Seismic Probe 204A, San Marino Fault Line, Los Angeles, Cal Free State

Anomalous vibration detected. Initiating Phase I monitoring.

RASP 204A power up complete.

Base station logging started 09:14:14 local.

Remote warehouse handshake complete 09:14:18 local.

All monitor instruments pass diagnostics and self-checks 09:14:20 local.

Vibration levels increasing.

Self-preservation system reports 15% maximum sustainable stress achieved.

Vibration levels increasing. Now registering 2.2R.

Vibration levels increasing. Now registering 3.4R.

Remote warehouse reporting master CFS seismologic database online 09:14:25 local.

Vibration levels increasing. Now registering 4.4R.

Self-preserveation system reports 33% maximum sustainable stress achieved.

Vibration levels decreasing. Now registering 3.7R. Peak 4.5R.

Vibration levels decreasing. Now registering 2.9R.

Vibration levels decreasing. Now registering 1.1R.

Vibration levels decreasing. Now registering 0.4R.

Vibration levels dropping below minimum threshold for full monitoring.

Full monitoring systems offline 09:14:38 local.

Disestablishing remote link.

Remote link closed 09:14:41 local.

RASP 204A returning to Phase III monitoring.

22:39:04 (UTC) Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Zeta-ImpChem Facility 7, Stuttgart, Allied German States

Hoopen crossed the hallway after Saunders, his HK227 butted into his shoulder. If the plan was on timeline, though, the next guard patrol wouldn't be by for another four minutes. Plenty of time for them to infiltrate the storage room. The ex-boxer glanced up and down the industrial gray corridor, nervous sweat trickling down his back. He hated this sneaky drek. Especially because they hadn't killed power to the facility before going in. All the security cameras were still up and running, unblinking eyes scanning the corridors and the thirty meters of deforested no-man's-land surrounding the buildings. He didn't trust that slitch when she claimed to be able to erase their image from the cameras. She'd never let them down before, but man she gave him the creeps.

Saunders tapped him on the shoulder before sliding through the now opened doorway. Hoopen spared one last look for the hall before following his partner inside.

The room revealed was large, sixty meters on a side according to the blueprints they'd been passed. A massive environmental control system hung from the ceiling, carefully controlling the temperature and humidity of the compounds stored inside. The two operatives slipped through the narrow aisles between the steel racks until they reached the rear corner. The area was adorned with red and black biohazard symbols, warnings spelled out in German, French, Japanese, and English. Beneath the slick polymer of his chameleon suit, Hoopen began to sweat in earnest. Inside the clearly labeled danger area was a steel cage containing twelve glass lined fiber reinforced composite canisters. Each canister wore its own large biohazard warning symbol and a smaller Z-IC corporate identification label: Semi-autonomous Nano-Organic Weapon.

Saunders opened up his bag again, withdrawing the harnesses which would allow them to carry three canisters each. Hoopen breathed a quick prayer to Thor before sliding the harness over his shoulders. Saunders bypassed the maglock holding the cage closed, and carefully slid the first canister out.

Hoopen grunted as he felt the harness take the weight. Less than I expected. Two more followed. They switched places to allow him to load Saunders. Mission complete, the two operatives closed the cage and headed to the exfiltration point.

??:??:?? ?, ? January 2063 - ?

Stars filled the moonless night, a deep field of diamonds stretching from horizon to horizon. The pure, pale sky was in stark contrast to the wind driven waters, rollers stretching up to four meters in height curled down the steel flanks of the vessels of Strike Group Four. The occasional breaker smashed over one of the decks, leaving a fine salty mist that drifted over the superstructure of the vessel.

Though clearly warships, the vessels were a far cry from the wasp waisted guided missile cruisers and destroyers which were the long arm of the military during the Cold War. Their lines were smooth, blending together from hull to deck to bridge. They curved from the water like the fins of hunting megalodon, antenna and radar hidden behind EM absorbent screens, weapons shielded in blisters and vertical launch tubes, decks clear and uncluttered. Dim running lights glittered in the thick black of night, enough for the squadron to maneuver by, but difficult for enemy surveillance to detect.

In the center of the wedge formed by her picket destroyers, the battle cruiser USS Kenneth Thompson prowled the waters. Within the thick armor of her hull, a deck down and aft of the bridge, sat the Combat Information Center. It served as the brain of the battlewagon, a single point that gathered and collated all of the tactical information derived from the Strike Group's sensors and delivered it to the Commanding Officer. From the CIC, the Captain could direct the actions not only of the Thompson, but every other vessel in his squadron, including their embarked aviation assets.

Currently, though, the main screen in the CIC was dominated by a split view of four faces. In the upper left was General Ellen Bauer, Commander, Unified Ground Forces. Upper right was General Thomas 'Tommy Gun' Wertzel, Air Forces Commander. Rear Admiral Donovan Cuilik, Commander SOCOM, occupied the lower left hand corner. Lieutenant General Arturro Garcia, Commander Space and Information Warfare, rounded out the last of the Chiefs of Staff. Facing them from the command chair in the CIC was Admiral Lucas Westfield, Fleet Forces Comander. Dressed in digital naval camouflage with a sidearm strapped in a gravity assist crossdraw holster over his body armor, Admiral Westfield cut a much different picture than his usual pressed khakis.

"Any word?" he asked, the lapel mike clipped to his epaulet picking up the quiet words and broadcasting them across the secure satellite link to his fellow commanders thousands of kilometers away.

"No, not yet," replied General Bauer, the expert communication program momentarily highlighting her image on screen as a visual reference to the invidual talking over the conference link.

"Any chance they're dead? Compromised?"

Admiral Cuilik's image brightened. "No way. Tellerman was one of my best. She'll finish this mission. She's one of those hard chargers who doesn't know the meaning of the word quit."

"Without a definitive answer one way or the other, we must proceed as if the mission was a failure. We must assume that Massada has fallen to the forces of the Red Queen and that we alone retain the ability to defeat her." General Wertzel's gravelly voice was filled with stony resolve. Westfield knew that his fellow chief had close friends in Massada. He nodded in agreement, though. It was the only prudent course of action. General Bauer glanced offscreen, reading data from another display.

"Troop deployment will be complete in ten hours. All regiments are reporting in. CAP is up and CAS assets are on Alert Five. The first strike package should be overhead at H minus five."

She paused to make eye contact with her fellow chiefs, men she'd known and fought beside her entire life.

"Good luck to us all, gentlemen. Godspeed. Out."

One by one their images darkened from the display tank, replaced finally by a three hundred nautical mile display of the ocean surrounding Strike Group Four. Westfield stared, unseeing, at the icons for a minute before exiting the CIC. The ladderway to the bridge was just up the passageway, and he paused as he stepped into the darkness to let his eyes adjust. Shadowed figures in similar battledress manned their positions, restless eyes scanning the horizon for the barest hint of a contact missed by the sensors embedded in and flying above the ships of the Strike Group. Westfield could feel the coming battle like a storm gathering on the horizon, the air electric against his skin.

"I wish to have no connection with any ship that does not sail fast," he whispered, "for I intend to go in harm's way."

01:14:28 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - 908 30th St #4, Denver, FRFZ

The door and both windows of the apartment blew inward in a sleet of debris and smoke. Grenades followed, disc shaped flash-bangs that punched waves of deafening overpressure through the thin rooms, plunging the room into darkness spiked with brilliant starbursts of light. The breach should have caught anyone inside unawares, making them easy marks for the stack of armed and armored men that followed.

Cobweb's team was anything but unprepared, though.

As the shield man in the stack rolled through the door, the high intensity LED lights on his barricade carving through the smoke and darkness, the Ingram White Knight mounted to the smart firing platform in the center hallway went live.

The 8mm light machinegun fired steel jacketed rounds at a cyclic rate of eight hundred rounds per minute. The quad mount was bolted to the floor, and the servos which drove the weapon served to buffer the recoil. Mounted above the weapon, on the White Knight's weaver rail, was the sensor package. Low-light, thermographic, flare compensation, and 20x magnification. Behind the hardware was a full suite of adaptive optics algorithms as well as a sophisticated engagement pilot. The weapon was as capable as any metahuman gunner.

The LMG ripped a long burst through the point man, ricochets sparking wildly in the distance. The stack pushed forward, carrying the dead man and seeking cover. Cobweb's other gunners opened fire, having rolled from cover when the LMG opened fire. Automatic fire stabbed back and forth in the narrow confines of the room. Another grenade went off, blowing open a part of the wall along with the gunman sheltering there.

Cobweb stepped out into the hallway from the apartment next door, bringing her Ingram Smartgun up to her shoulder. The smartgun interface blinked to life, crosshairs tracking across the faded and peeling wallpaper before coming to rest on a short figure dressed in a plain khaki jumpsuit. In the darkness, she could just make out the child's unnatural white eyes. He was about as tall as she was.

Cobweb took up the last slack in the trigger.

00:31:00 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Smiling thankfully up at him, Lady Dove nonetheless shakes her head 'no'. "Some moments should be shared with others as well," she answers as she takes the pictures from his hand. A cynical observer might note that no matter who was actually in the room, this moment of truth, for better or worse, was about to be shared with quite a few people. What might happen after that moment of truth was what got everyone's nerves on edge.

As Lady Dove scanned the photos intently, looking down at them, then back up at Blaze, then back down at the photos, then back up at Blaze with ever increasing rapidity, trigger fingers tensed, spells began to form in people's minds, and targets were acquired.

After looking at the photos intently one last time, Lady Dove gazed back at Blaze intently, tears forming at the corners of her eyes before slowly trickling down her cheeks. The photos drifted softly to the floor, pursued by an unwiped tear that had hung on Lady Dove's cheek for a moment before dropping towards the concrete floor below.

With a sob, she ran towards Blaze with her arms extended, covering the gap between them in seconds and throwing her arms around his neck while he caught her around the waist and used her momentum to spin her around with a flourish in a relieved hug.

Tears streaming down her face untouched, she choked out, "Richard, it's you...mom always told me about you and your family...she said one day maybe we'd get to see you...I can't believe it's today, can't believe it's here of all places..." The tears of joy cut her off, and she just clung tightly to his neck and cried, releasing the tension and emotion that had been building up in her for the last several weeks. In the safety of her cousin, of her family's arms, she was finally able to give vent to her feelings and all the turbulent emotions that had been lingering beneath a tightly controlled facade since her husband's death.

If Blaze cared about his real name being revealed, it was lost in a sea of emotion that overran him. Relief at finally achieving his goal of finding some family and a cousin, the relief of knowing she was safe, it overwhelmed him like a tidal wave. There was joy at not being alone anymore, and hope that perhaps a real family relationship could be built in his life even at this late stage, and a belief that maybe things in life were simply turning a corner for the better. He held her tight, afraid it was some kind of illusion, that if he let go now he'd never see her again. Sure, he knew that things wouldn't, indeed couldn't change instantly. He knew from cold, hard experience that this moment wouldn't last forever. Nonetheless, he was determined to hold on to it for as long as he could.

00:31:58 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Max sat and watched as the seconds ticked away between Lady Dove and the man claiming to be her cousin. He could see the tension rolling off the others in waves as time slowly trickld by, but his sights were held completely by the Lady. He watched the eddy's and tides of her aura flicker in concetration and fear and hope and finally a brilliant flare of relief and happiness. The aura of the two individuals swirled together as the man and woman twirled into each others arms leaving a faded after-image in the ether around them.

The irony of the situation was not lost on Max. He had come here seeking exactly what the people before him had recieved and yet still he and John sat in the dark with only hope that they would eventually find their loved ones. But he couldn't be bitter or argry anymore, not seeing what he could so clearly see with his unique view. So he smiled a sad smile and waited.

00:32:11 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

"Margaret, she was so scared, so was I, that we would never find you." The shoulder Blaze's long coat is becoming wetter, but Melissa's tears are a welcome sight after such a long and painful search. He wasn't sure how she ended up here, or how far Universal Omnitech would go to get her back, if they were chasing her, but these questions were of remote concern at this moment. He had the beginnings of a family nucleating around him, with all the support and stability that family members bring along with them. He could feel the approving grumblings of the Leleopard in the back of his mind. You have found your kin, now it is your duty to keep all your kin safe.

Giving her one more tight squeeze, Blaze pulled his head back a bit so that he could see Melissa's face, a more welcome sight was unimaginable. "Have you been hurt? How did you end up here?"

00:35:00 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Melissa looked over at Cao Jaan and smiled warmly at him. "No, I've been doing better than I would've expected, actually. Mr. Cao took me in and took care of me when..."

She suddenly stopped, remembering the previously tense situation and the fact that there were quite a few strangers standing right there, and looked around, blushing. "Never mind, we can talk about it later." Brushing away her tears, she sniffled a bit self-consciously. "There're still things here that need to be taken care of." Smiling up at him, Melissa added, "And now that you've found us again, there'll be plenty of time to catch up."

Turning to Cao Jaan, she glanced discreetly in John and Max's direction, reminding him of her previous comments whispered in his ear.

23:58:58 Saturday January 13, 2063 - NYK Shipmanagement Staging Lot A-6, E Marginal Way S At S Michigan St, Seattle

Scratch shot a quick glance at the figure standing before the Comet, then dug the chip out of his pocket and laid it in Ludi's left palm. "What now?"

"Now you sit tight." Ludmilla turned to leave, then paused to look back to the ganger. "Everything will be fine." She hoped she sounded confident.

Opening the door, the russian boxer stood, Roomsweeper held close to her leg. She scanned the area using her shade's vision enhancements, but saw nothing other than the still figure standing directly in front of the car's bumper, black case held before her. Ludi spoke loudly so that she could be heard clearly over the idling loader. "Place the briefcase on the hood and back away."

The spotlight dimmed slightly and swiveled downward so that it was no longer shining straight into Ludi's eyes. The woman's voice was rich and surprisingly deep. "I can back away, but the case remains with me." She smiled, displaying straight, bright teeth. "How would you like to continue?"

00:35:04 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

John watched the family reunion without comment, ignoring the lump in his throat. Yer gettin' soft, old man... Happy endings weren't very frequent in the shadows. He certainly hadn't experienced many, and had probably ruined more than a few. Hopefully it would be different with Nora's story.

Seeing Lady Dove's silent exchange with Cao Jaan, he reached up to take the cigarette from his mouth and ashed onto the floor.

"Sorry ta interrupt, but before this happy interlude one of you was about ta tell Max an' me what was wrong with this girl?"

00:36:29 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Cao let out a breath he had been holding in anticipation of this. He was genuinely happy that Lady Dove had been reunited with her apparently long lost family. The Mother seemed proud of him in that moment, and he took a further breath and rubbed his face with his hands, releasing another burden off of himself. Now, to take on another he thought, turning toward Dr. Steiner, John, and Knight.

“We had a girl come in recently, with a letter and a gift I had given to Keira,” Cao said, ushering them out of the office so as not to interfere with the family reunion happening inside and holding up a hand to stop the outburst he sensed was coming from both of them.

“No, it’s not the one you described, and for that I am sorry. If it was, I wouldn’t have paused earlier. She hasn’t said anything since she arrived,” he said, leading them from the room out into the main floor.

“You can speak to her if you wish, but please do not do anything more intrusive that that,” Cao said. “Keira charged me with her care, and while I will help as much as I am able, she would not want someone hurt on her behalf.”

00:00:37 Saturday January 14, 2063 - NYK Shipmanagement Staging Lot A-6, E Marginal Way S At S Michigan St, Seattle

Ludmilla was rather satisfied that whom ever controlled the light turned it away. Being in the spotlight in such a manner wasn't doing any good to her temper.

But her happiness was short lived. The woman who was standing a few feet from her sounded rather condescending. There was nothing Ludi hated more than being treated like a child. A few more seconds of silence passed, the russian woman's grip on the Roomsweeper getting tighter.

With her left hand, she lowered her low light shades so that her cyber green eyes could directly connect with the woman.

"Listen, I just want to make sure you got nothing.... unpleasant in that briefcase. Just open it on the hood and stay with it."

00:36:29 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Seeing Lady Dove and Blaze obvious hapiness made Knight smile. A wave of relief washed over him as he felt the tension slim down. The elf was genuinely happy for both of them.

Everyone should be so lucky.

Seeing Cao take the two men outside the office, and feeling confident that Blaze would not hurt Lady Dove, Knight followed them.

As his employer spoke, the tall elf stood by his side, not interposing himself between him and the two men... but staying just close enough to interve if anything happened.

15:04:47 Saturday, 13 January 2063 – The Unbottled Spirit, Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

“I’d be very wary of believing what the Azzie’s tell you. You know those guys will drek in one hand and try to sell it back to you as ice cream. And it’s not like the zapitistas down in the Yucatan have anywhere to fall back to; they fight or they die. If you see some Azzie divisions rolling up toward CalFree, the CAS and the Pueblo will get very chummy. You’d see Tir Ghosts and Souix Wildcats fighting along side each other long before the Azzies reached Hollywood.”Tony said, holding up a hand to the ensuing argument and trying to cheer up his friend.

Both he and Sam had seen the proposed battleplans and force structure from Jane’s S-K, and what Andie had reported back to Operations. Sam never thought that the maneuver warfare envisioned by the CAS leadership would happen before the Aztechnology forces rallied. Tony thought that, even with fresh forces, Aztechnolgy would face more unified enemies than they had previously.

Changing the subject, Tony asked, after another sip of beer, “So, who’s moving these guys? Who’s moving against them?”

00:39:45 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Max followed Mr Cao into the office and nodded when he heard the man speak.

"You said she wasn't speaking?" Max's statement was really more of a question. "Had the girl been harmed or is she in shock?"

His concern was obvious. He wanted answers as much as John did about what happened to Keira and Nora, but if the girl Mr. Cao was protecting was in shock she may need more help than what Mr. Cao could give her.

He waits for the man's answer before asking another. "You said the girl was carrying a letter. Was it from Keira and could we take a look at it?"

00:42:17 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

"Phycological shock, I think. We didn't find anything...physical wrong with her. I don't know where she's been, be she's either seen or been through something that she's still dealing with," Cao said. It frustrated him that he hadn't been able to do anything more than shelter the child, but the place the girl had withdrawn into was beyond his or Lady Dove's ablity to go.

He nods assent at Mr. Steiner's next question. "Yes, to both of your questions. Please, wait a moment and I'll lead you up," Cao said, walking back toward the office where Lady Dove and her cousin were, both still in deep conversation.

Cao smiled at both of them. "I will be upstairs with these people. They may be able to help the girl, or the girl may be able to help them. Is there anything you need from me?" he said softly to Lady Dove

06:17:28 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Apartment 1965 Argent Arms, 699 W Olympic Place, Seattle, UCAS

Numbers flashing in a visual overlay to remind her how early it was, Litany gazed out over the Sound as the Bainbridge ferry performed it's early morning run in the pre dawn gray, running lights shining steadily. The hot sweet chocolate stung her tongue as she sipped once, a reminder that the pleasure of warming hands had it's price. Dismissing the nagging signals from her tongue she settled back on the deck chair and wrapped her blanket tighter as she stretched her legs out in front of her on the balcony and watched the as the coming dawn slowly illuminated the Sound in the usual gray tones.

Today I am Dolores Malone, 32 year old former UCAS Marine procurement specialist with a position as Corporate Procurement Assistant 3 at Huskie Brand Management.
Children, no.
Boyfriend, yes.
Girlfriend, no.
Will Date, yes.
Vehicle, scooter.
Catchphrase, "I get paid to shop!"
Goals, Assistant 2
Schedule, 9 to 5, flexible.
Interests, Collegiate sports, Team Spirit Squads. volleyball
Hangout, Pac 12 Athletics Barn.
Drink, Raspberry Margaritas w/Lemon slices ... sick of raspberry...

//Set Bio Public
//Gabriel:: The Barn is having the Indoor Ladies Beach Bikini Volley Ball match tonight, you still have not replied to any of the 5 requests for you to be on the team.
//Shut Up Gabriel

The voice of doom, next it'll figure out to use trumpets as background music tones.

I'm going to shoot Flipper for doing this to me. Don't I have enough sins to burden my soul without having a voice of the angels of doom in my head?

I think I will shoot him at least once in each leg and work my way up from there.

Getting up with a sigh, and ignoring the reflexive twitching of her left index finger, Litany finishes the rest of her chocolate and continues with her morning routine. Tossing her blanket onto the bed, she mentally commands the sliding balcony door to slide close and opaque slightly to act as a partial mirror.

Extra 5 minutes workout for that extra spoonful of honey.

Ready...
Set.
Go!

"Give me an H! ... Give me a U!..."

08:13:43 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Apartment 1319 - Metropolitan Park Apartments, 601 S. Washington St., Seattle

It was already a typical day for Lana. She was still tired from the night before, she had a mild hangover and she was running late for her 9 am Psych class where she knew she wasn't going to be able to talk her way out of yet another late arrival to Professor Johanssen.

Pausing only briefly to both side-step a pile of clothing on the floor and hold on to the towel wrapped around her body at the same time, she listens for any additional signs of life from inside the apartment.

Niki didn't even get in until nearly 4:45, there's no way she's gonna be up so at least I won't have to hear the riot act about running late this morning...

With a quick glance at the clock and an exasperated sigh Lana mysteriously manages to pluck out a clean pair of jeans and a non-wrinkled t-shirt from the disaster that was the floor of her bedroom and finishes getting dressed. A quick run of a brush through her damp raven locks and the addition of an elastic to hold them back into a loose ponytail and she's just about ready for the drive up to campus.

She tosses on the leather jacket dropped haphazzardly next to her bed from the night before and almost as an afterthought she picks up her messenger bag and slings it across her chest.

Stepping out into the hall, she tiptoes past Niki's room, not wanting to wake her likely grumpy sister. One more glance at the clock in the kitchen and she sees she can afford herself a few moments to eat. She tosses a chocolate croissant from the bakery around the corner into the micro and grabs a FizzyDew and shoves it into a pocket on her bag. She snags the hot pastry just seconds before the timer goes off. Wearing a path into the floor of the kitchen, she walks back and forth as she practically inhales breakfast.

Deciding she's got to get on the road she manages to swipe her set of key cards off the counter as she breezes by, ready to face traffic on the I-5.

07:08:39 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Apartment 1965 Argent Arms, 699 W Olympic Place, Seattle, UCAS

Running the towel over her hair again, Litany picked up her commlink from where it buzzed on her dresser. She ran the details of her assumed identity through her memory again, although it turned out to be unnecessary once she recognized the caller ID.

"Good morning, dahling," drawled Steven. From long experience she knew that the elf probably hadn't slept more than three hours, if he'd even slept at all. Yet he somehow managed to look as perfectly coifed as if he'd just stepped out of the salon.

"You're either up late or up early, you know I'll never ask, but you could always tell." Steven did an elaborate job of examining his manicure, pausing just long enough to tempt her to answer.

"Anyway, I hope you still have some mojo left, there was a gentleman caller asking after you. Or, specifically, your special talents. I took the liberty of setting up a meeting for you tonight at Tower 23. Eight p.m."

Once again, Steven paused, angling his face like a professional. She gave him the look she always gave him when he was trying to use his devastating good looks for nefarious purposes. He laughed.

"As usual, should you need anything, anything at all. Please, don't hesitate." With one last smile, he was gone.

07:08:39 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Apartment 1965 Argent Arms, 699 W Olympic Place, Seattle, UCAS

"Good morning, dahling,"

Litany shook her head mildly, disguising the motion with a quick rub of her towel.
He picks these moments on purpose.

"You're either up late or up early, you know I'll never ask, but you could always tell."

Biting her tongue playfully in response, you'd make that elegant little shudder of distaste, and knowing you, you'd would be nauseous...

"Anyway, I hope you still have some mojo left, there was a gentleman caller asking after you. Or, specifically, your special talents. I took the liberty of setting up a meeting for you tonight at Tower 23. Eight p.m."

Rolling her eyes, Litany nodded assent. ...he enjoys playing the pimp.

"As usual, should you need anything, anything at all. Please, don't hesitate." With one last smile, he was gone.

Ah, but there's always the price Steven. Today I hope you are the patron of headaches, and not the coffin makers, though it's all too often we end up filling the grave with other peoples "headaches".

00:01:06 Saturday January 14, 2063 - NYK Shipmanagement Staging Lot A-6, E Marginal Way S At S Michigan St, Seattle

Unflinchingly meeting the former bare-knuckle fighter's gaze, the dark-skinned woman nodded and carefully sat the briefcase on the Comet's hood. She slowly opened the case, and then, just as slowly turned the open case to face Ludmilla. Having done so, she steps back slightly, carefully keeping her hands in plain sight the entire time.

Ludi slid her shades back into place, then shot a quick glance at the case, before shifting back to Ms. Johnson. From what she could see, it was foam-lined with spaces for 6 credsticks and a pocket secretary or other small device. There didn't appear to be anything dangerous.

Clearing her throat lightly, Ms. Johnson nodded towards the case. "Is everything satisfactory? May we continue?"

Fighting the urge to snap back a rude reply, Ludi took a quick another quick look at the case. Everything looked fine, but people like this woman, loyal to one corp or another, regularly cheated and used people just like her. Could she trust her to hold up her end of the bargain? Just then, as she was trying to decide, the psec in her pocket began to buzz.

00:01:39 Saturday January 14, 2063 - NYK Shipmanagement Staging Lot A-6, E Marginal Way S At S Michigan St, Seattle

Giving one last look to the content of the briefcase, Ludmilla simply gave the woman a quick nod, without even looking at her. The woman’s right hand went to the side pocket that held her vibrating psec. As she tore the velco secured pocket open, she started slipping the device out, slowly, with two fingers.

“I’m taking my phone out.” She said in a calm and neutral voice.

Pulling on the device retractable optical cord, she connected the call straight into her datajack.

00:45:00 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Turning to Cao Jaan with a smile, Lady Dove touched him lightly on the arm as she answered, "Why don't you let me get the girl? She seemed to respond better to me than you. She's already been through a lot, and I'm not sure she's mentally or emotionally ready to meet a group of scary looking men," a glance at ETG is all she needed to drive that particular point home, "and I can probably prepare her for it better than you can."

Nodding, Cao Jaan answers, "A good point. I understand. I will inform Mr. Steiner and John of this and we will wait for you to bring the girl down when you feel she's ready."

Turning to Blaze, he smiles, sad because it appears that Lady Dove...no, Melissa will be leaving them soon, but happy that she has found her apparently long lost family again. "If you would excuse us sir, while we are all very happy that you have found your cousin, we are going to try to help those two men out there find people they care deeply about as well. As she said, Melissa is going to try to talk to a girl who may be able to help them, and she is the best one of us for the task."

Nodding understandingly, Blaze casually waves off the explanation. "Of course. I understand exactly what it is to search for a loved one. If this girl can help them, and Melissa is the best suited to help the girl help them, then of course she should go."

Blaze smiles up at Melissa, who had risen gracefully to her feet. "I've waited years for this. I can wait a few minutes longer." As Melissa and Cao Jaan turned and left the room, a sense of peace he hadn't felt in years flooded over him. Walking to the door to watch her ascend the stairs to the second floor, Blaze couldn't keep the smile off his face.

Standing next to the doorway of the interview room, impassively scanning the warehouse, ETG followed Melissa's ascent as well with the clinical, practiced eye of a troll used to keeping his eyes on the target. Noting Blaze's smile in his peripheral vision, he commented casually, "Guess the job's almost done. Sometimes we get things the easy way, even in the shadows, huh boss?"

Blaze simply nodded. Sometimes there wasn't much to say. It wasn't exactly what he'd call an easy path to his cousin, but given how things had all worked out, he definitely wasn't going to complain about it.

Outside, a flash of lightning heralded the sudden crash of thunder, and the rain picked up its intensity even more.

As Melissa began walking upstairs towards where the girl was, Cao Jaan walked back over to Knight, Max, and John. "Lady Dove requested that she be the one to get the girl. She felt the girl has been through enough trauma that she may not be mentally or emotionally prepared to deal with shadowrunners just yet, and she wanted to help steady her first. She will bring the girl to us when she feels she's ready to handle it. Please give it a few minutes."

Nodding understanding, Max and John relaxed slightly. Their hosts had proven willing to help them, and neither of them was prepared to damage an already hurting girl just to save a few minutes. They were getting closer, they could feel it, and if they had to wait a few more minutes to get the assistance they sought, well, what were a few minutes?

Coolly Knight kept rotating his gaze from Max and John to Blaze and ETG. It looked like the tensions had settled down, and everyone had slipped into a more casual, relaxed mode. Sometimes playing it straight with people and just being the good guy in life paid off.

Walking up the stairs and across the ledge of the second floor of the warehouse, Melissa was glowing inside. She was going to go home, with her long lost cousin no less, and everything was going to be ok. She dearly hoped that the girl would be able to help the two men downstairs find their loved ones as well.

Arriving at her room, where the girl was staying, she knocked softly on the door and then entered. The girl was sitting on the floor with her back to the wall, legs hugged tightly to her chest with her arms, her chin resting on her knees. Looking up at Melissa's entrance, she smiled hesitantly in greeting.

Smiling back, Melissa kneeled down next to the girl. "Hello there. How are you doing?"

In a whisper, the girl answered, "Good, thank you."

Stroking her hair gently, Melissa said quietly, "There are two men downstairs who want to see you. They think you can help them find someone they're looking for."

Jerking herself away from Melissa violently, the girl looked frantically towards the door just behind Melissa, the panic in etched all over her face. "No...please...don't turn me over to them...I didn't do anything...please..." she sobbed, tears streaming down her face.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's ok. Shhhh." Quickly moving towards the girl, Melissa wrapped her arms around her and held her tight. "We've taken care of you so far, right? You think we'd even let anyone know you were here if we thought there was the slightest chance they wanted to hurt you?"

Burying her face in Melissa's shoulder, tears soaking a giant wet spot in her jacket, the girl shook her head. "But..." she stammered, "how do you know they aren't the ones who are after me?"

Rubbing the girl's back gently, trying to soothe her, Melissa answered, "One of them knew the woman who wrote that letter for you, Mr. Cao's friend, Keira. She's one of the people they're looking for, and we believe they want to help her."

Pushing away Melissa, the girl looked up at her with brown eyes that were dimmed slightly from obvious substance abuse but bright with concern. "Something happened to Miss Keira? Because of me?" The girl burst into fresh sobs and threw her arms around Melissa's neck again.

"Shh...shh...it's ok. Mr. Cao believes they know Keira and are trying to help, and you know he'd never let anyone hurt her, right?" The girl nodded, her face still buried in Melissa's jacket and her body heaving with gasping sobs that seemed to echo in the small room.

"Don't worry, I promise they won't hurt you. Here, let me show you something." Gently helping the girl to her feet, Melissa led her to the door, then pointed out the window at ETG and Blaze.

The girl openly recoiled at the sight of ETG. "HE'S a friend of Keira's?" she asked incredulously. Laughing, Melissa shook her head. "No, he's with the man in red, who came looking for me."

"Really?" The girl's interest was aroused, and she stared harder through the window. "Hey, he's pretty cute," she said with a small smile, looking up at Melissa.

Responding to the unspoken insinuation, Melissa laughed and said, "He's also my cousin. He came to help me. Now, between those two, me, Mr. Cao and Knight, do those two," she pointed at Max and John, "really look like they could hurt you, even if they tried?"

Smiling at Melissa's reassurance, the girl looked with obvious curiosity at Max, as she'd never seen anyone who looked quite like him. While he was obviously affected by SURGE in some way, he was still handsome and easy to look at. But it wasn't him who held the girl's attention.

Instead, as her gaze shifted over to the elderly man in the ugly sweater, the girl gasped sharply and whispered, "Uncle John..."

Snapping her gaze over to the girl, Melissa asked, "Uncle John? So you know him?"

"It's got to be him! No one else would ever wear that a sweater as drekking ugly as that." For the first time since she'd arrived at the warehouse, the girl laughed. "That's got to be my Uncle John! I don't know how he found me, but that sweater of his is a dead giveaway. Isn't it the ugliest fragging thing you ever saw? I swear, I don't know how Rosa put up with his sense of fashion sometimes."

The girl didn't even wait for a response, but ripped open the door and ran outside to the railing where she could see better and gripped the safety railing tightly, leaning over as far as she dared to make sure it was who she thought it was.

Down below, Max and John stood with Knight and Cao Jaan, not making small talk but just watching and waiting silently. Suddenly a loud cry of hope and excitement rang through the air. "UNCLE JOHN!!!"

Deep inside, John felt his heart leap into his throat. He hadn't been sure if he'd ever hear that voice again, and while he certainly didn't want to think about how probable it was that he would never did get to hear it again, part of him had already come to grips with the grim possibility that there was a very good chance he’d never hear his niece’s voice again. But there it was, clear as day and unmistakable. Whirling around, he looked up and saw Nora leaning over the railing, waving her arms in the air frantically, as if she was afraid he would somehow not see her.

In only a second, he quickly took it all in, noticing there were some changes to Nora. Her hair had been cut short and dyed brown, and her usual street style was toned down to make her blend in instead of stand out, and his cybereyes let him see that her eyes had some kind of contacts to change their color. Even with those changes though, there was no mistaking that voice coming from the thin, waif-like girl waving down at him as anyone but Nora.

Without a second thought, he yelled back in disbelief, "Nora!!! I can't believe it...you're ok!" Relief flooded over him as he turned towards Max and gripped his friend's arm tightly. "It's Nora chummer! She's all right! She's gotta know something about Keira if she brought a letter from her for these guys!"

The enthusiasm was palpable in his voice, and Knight and Cao Jaan couldn't help but smile at the unbridled enthusiasm and relief coming from a guy who was obviously a pro who'd been around the block. Sure, he was obviously experienced and probably jaded, but it seemed that everyone had something or someone that was dear to them, and seeing that side of someone was always rewarding. Yes, sometimes there were days where even the shadows had happy endings.

01:00:00 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Unfortunately, today was not one of those days.

As Nora stood waving down at them, Melissa walking out of the room to stand by her side smiling, Max couldn't help but feel his heart soar. Surely they were on the right track to finding Keira. John's niece could help keep them on the trail, and if their luck held out, soon they'd be able to find Keira as well. Key word: IF.

Too bad things are never that simple. Nora shouted down to them, "Hold on Uncle John, I'm coming down!" Then the world around them exploded.

Explosions ripped through the loading doors on the west side of the warehouse, leaving giant gaping holes in them, with smoke rapidly filling the warehouse. Shouts in a language Max couldn't understand rang through the air. Then the shooting started, and that was a language everyone in the warehouse understood perfectly well.

If this was only a movie, or perhaps a game played out by impersonal third parties, perhaps a montage of everyone's actions and thoughts would have flashed across the screen, or a moment of internal monologue to give the viewer the opportunity to see what was running through the minds of the characters as bullets began zipping through the air. Yes, if this were only a game, that montage might look something like this:

From Melissa/Lady Dove, as the explosions rocked the floor under her and she fell to the ground: What is going on!??!?!? What's happening!?!?!?

From Nora, as she lost her balance and pitched headfirst over the railing, only managing to grab a hold of the railing with her right hand as she fell: Oh my god!!! Please don't let me die! Please please please!!!

From John, who saw his niece suddenly pitch over the railing and just barely catch herself as she dangled precariously between life and death just above the warehouse floor in front of his eyes: Oh god please don't die Nora! I'll fragging geek whoever is responsible for this!

From Max, who only scant days ago had been in his first gunfight ever but somehow knew that this one was different, that this one was for keeps: Not again! Not when we're so close!

From Blaze, who watched Melissa thrown to the floor in front of his eyes with a sinking feeling in his gut as he felt history beginning to repeat itself: NO!!! DREK EATING MOTHERFRAGGING SONS OF SLITCHES!!! I will NOT watch another of my family die in front of me! Even if I have to kill everyone who walks in here, I will NOT allow it!

From Knight, who immediately grasped the hilt of his sword as he prepared for action: Dammit, it looks like it's time to earn my pay. But who the frag would organize such a huge assault on a place like this?

From Cao Jaan, who heard and understood full well the shouts in Chinese calling upon one another to kill the traitor and everyone in the warehouse, and knew full well what it meant and who was out there: Great Mother, I am responsible for my own past sins. I am prepared to answer for them, but please don't let more innocent blood be shed because of my past mistakes.

And finally, from ETG, now grinning a death's head grin as he felt the servos in his cyberarm gyromount firing up and brought the trombone case up, ready to release the Ingram White Knight contained within into his waiting hands: Excellent. It's on now...

Unfortunately for all parties involved, this was not a game. This was real, and whether it was their first time or their hundreth walking the brink of life and death, it was, as ETG so aptly put it, on now.

08:57:23 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - University of Washington Campus, Guthrie Hall, Seattle

Lana had managed to dodge the beaterboxes and mom-mobiles to make it to campus during rush hour with enough time to find a parking spot close to her class.

She was climbing the steps of Guthrie Hall, almost out of breath from running the distance from the parking garage, when she spotted a familiar figure leaning next to the building. She was dressed like a regular college student, jeans and an oversized sweatshirt bearing the UDub logo, but she still had traces of last night's "Klassy Kat Makeover" rimming her eyes. She also looked like she had pulled a double shift the night before and had stayed up the rest of the morning crying to boot.

Concern marred Lana's features as she stopped in front of the girl, suddenly knowing all too well that she wasn't going to be making Professor Johanssen's class today after all and from the looks of her friend, none of the rest of her classes either.

"Kat, babe, what's the matter? You look like drek."

08:58:21 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - University of Washington Campus, Guthrie Hall, Seattle

Kat smiles wanly at Lana. She wipes the back of her hand across her red, tired eyes, and sniffles a little. "Oh...hey Lana. How's it going girl? I..." she trails off, and appears to be looking over Lana's shoulder. "Um, nothing, I'm just tired. Late night last night, you know?"

Turning around, Lana manages to catch a glimpse of a hard looking character who looks flagrantly out of place on U-Dub's campus, especially at almost 9 in the morning. The guy stands pretty tall, although it's hard to see exactly how tall from her elevated angle, but he's definitely decently built and muscular. He's wearing dark street-style clothes, and is smoking a cigarette.

Staring hard at the two girls behind wraparound mirrorshades, he'd be almost a parody of the 'bad street boy' stereotype in every two-nuyen romance sim if it wasn't for Kat's obvious distress.

Noticing that Lana spotted the guy, Kat pulled a little on her upper arm, obviously trying to turn her friend away from the guy. "Come on Lana, we're going to be late for class, right?"

08:58:53 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - University of Washington Campus, Guthrie Hall, Seattle

Lana's eyes narrow as she spots and then studies the out of place guy behind the shades. The longer she watches and the more she concentrates she finds herself starting to see the swirling colours inside his aura. She tries to make out anything in detail but everything is a bit fuzzy. Her astral view is completely disrupted however when Kat grabs her upper arm and she turns back to her friend.

"Who's the guy Kat?"

She doesn't look back at him or even acknowledge him anymore than she already had, it was obvious as to who she was referring to. Lana stands firm in front of the doors and her friend, unwilling to move till she gets an answer, class be damned.

08:59:14 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - University of Washington Campus, Guthrie Hall, Seattle

"I told you, it's no one Lana. Come on, let's get to class." Kat smiles, but there's nothing genuine about it. "We can actually get to class on time today so we should, right?"

More than anything else, that tipped off Lana that something was seriously wrong. Kat was never in a hurry to get to class on time, and especially not when she looked like this. The girl was always dressed to impress and never looked out of sorts, unless it was deliberate. For her to want to go to class looking like she did, so far below her usual standards, rather than talk about this guy, it didn't take a aerospace scientist to figure out that something about that guy was seriously bothering her.

08:59:27 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - University of Washington Campus, Guthrie Hall, Seattle

As soon as Kat actually tried to get her to go to class instead of skip and either go shopping or try to kill off their hangovers from the night before over a cup of coffee, Lana knew there was something going on that was starting to make her feel more and more uncomfortable the longer they stood there with Mr. Mirrorshades staring at them.

She dropped her voice, what she had to say was ment for Kat's ears only.

"Ok, sure. We'll walk in the building like we're headed to class, but we'll walk right past the lecture hall and out the door on the back side of the building. C'mon Kat, we'll go grab some breakfast and a venti caffe creama over at Damn Good Coffee."

She raised her brows trying to take a bit of the edge off her "demand" by making Kat think she still had a choice in all of this.

"It'll be my treat? And we can talk, without company, or Professor Johanssen shooting us dirty looks from the front of class?"

09:34:15 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Huskie Brand Management, 55051 Corporate Drive, Seattle, UCAS

Absently nodding and smiling at the brown UPS delivery drone's camera Litany indicated the delivery staging area marked in yellow and black striped paint on the storage area floor. As the tractored drone started moving pallets of shrink wrapped life sized purple and grey stuffed alaskan huskies out of the truck to the staging area, she moved back into the windowed office section overlooking the delivery door and sat, balancing herself precariously cross legged atop an old worn bar stool. Pulling a cable from the wall she plugs herself in.

\\HUD overlay on window.
\\@Gabriel. Make yourself useful and lookup Tower 23 for me.
\\Gabriel:: The files on the Indoor Ladies Beach Bikini Volley Ball teams are ready.
\\Gabriel:: Preliminary analysis identifies the Vorpal Bunnies as the most target rich.
Saints preserve us!
\\@Gabriel. They are not "TARGETS"! I intend to marry one, not shoot them!
\\Gabriel:: New designation acknowledged. Targets now assigned as "candidates" as closest term.
\\@Gabriel. Update my public schedule. I'll need to leave early today and do the usual pre meet check of my gear. Show me my schedule.

Overlayed on the observation window a calendar displaying a double layer of appointments and events appears for the day. One layer her public cover schedule, the other containing her private events, of which today suddenly she would have several. Reviewing the list, she nods to herself, then as the as the next delivery truck arrives to bring the latest in holographic Huskie headwear, hats with a full lifesized projection of barking Huskies, Litany starts browsing the biographic data on the list of candidates available on The Barns various indoor volleyball teams.

Let's run them through my check list.
Single?
College education?
Healthy?
...?
...

00:01:44 Saturday January 14, 2063 - NYK Shipmanagement Staging Lot A-6, E Marginal Way S At S Michigan St, Seattle

As she snugged the plug home, Lumilla saw the pocket secretary's various icons appear in her cybereye's graphical overlay. She almost sighed in relief as she noted it was a incoming text message from Byte. She hadn't been looking forward to taking a voice call from him. It would have been unprofessional to scream "I can't fragging understand you!" into her phone during a meet.

As the selected message began to display in a small window, Ludi noticed the Johnson close the briefcase and step back, once again holding the case at her waist, both hands clasping the handle.

Gillette-
Key is secure.
Locker #914, 811 Stewart St

Locker keycard hidden in large planter near bathrooms.

00:01:50 Saturday January 14, 2063 - NYK Shipmanagement Staging Lot A-6, E Marginal Way S At S Michigan St, Seattle

Seeing the message scroll in her field of vision, in semi transparent text, Ludi felt a wave of relief wash over her. The decker had not only accomplished his task... she wouldn't have to speak with him.

The Russian’s cyber green eyes went back to the woman standing a few feet away from her. She seemed calm enough and rather composed… which either meant that the whole deal was legit, or that she held all the cards.

Not quite.

Her hand still wrapped around the pistol grip of the sawed off shotgun, Ludmilla’s hand went in her jacket’s pocket and back out, holding the chip. She held slightly forward of her body, pinched between two fingers.

She spoke slowly to make sure the Johnson wouldn’t miss a single word.

“It’s encrypted. Give me a safe line where we can contact you. Once we are safe, you will get a call that will instruct you where to get the decryption key.”

A few seconds passed and Ludi started getting impatient again.

10:08:33 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Huskie Brand Management, 55051 Corporate Drive, Seattle, UCAS

A total of eight teams in all make up the amatuer volleyball league. Each team has a roster from between fifteen and twenty seven individuals, giving Litany a database of roughly one hundred and sixty 'candidates' to chose from. Approximately sixty percent of them are married, narrowing her viables down to ninety six. Of those, twenty percent have no degree, thirty percent have an associates degree, forty five percent have a bachelors, while the remaining two percent have masters or higher. Almost all of them fall into the generic healthy category assigned to adult males between the ages of thirty five and forty five, although access to the second layer of the teams' medical records indicates that anywhere from between fifteen to twenty percent of the players suffer from some kind of medical problem. Lifestyle issues, such as high blood pressure and high cholesterol predominate, although hypertension and stress disorders are common as well. Many of the team members have had sports related injuries, especially knee and ankle injuries which are common in volleyball. In the end, she is left with a top ten list of candidates suitable for her purposes.

12:54:51 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Huskie Brand Management, 55051 Corporate Drive, Seattle, UCAS

Reluctantly Litany paused reviewing the set of ten Chapel Bells Virtual Wedding Planner enactments and finished ranking her candidates.

Save these for later.

//@Gabriel. I'm disconnecting, so pull back from where ever you are. I'll review the Tower 23 data while we go shopping.
//Gabriel:: I've sent your reply to the various teams, joining the Vorpal Bunnies still gives the highest intersection vector to your candidates.
//@Gabriel. Let's shorten that to 'dates shall we?
//@Gabriel. What in the Lord's name are Vorpal Bunnies? I've never heard of that team mascot.

After unplugging her datajack Litany breezes through the Huskie Brand Management front offices cheerily proclaiming, "Lunch then shopping for more mascots! You have my number if there are any unscheduled deliveries!"

These sales and procurement jobs make such easy covers.

1. Lunch
2. Tower 32
3. Gun range
4. Bugout plans
5. Makeover
6. Clothes
7. Dinner

then off to work...

14:19:32 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Tower 23, 4551 Ocean Blvd Suite 102, Seattle, UCAS

Located on the windward side of the North Palisades Hotel, Tower 23 could pass for any other run of the mill hotel bar were it not for the stunning view of the Sound out the floor to ceiling windows. During the summer months, the wildlife of the beach barely ten meters from the bar's patio provides most of the entertainment. Now, though, the outdoor tables are empty, umbrellas folded and battened against the harsh January wind that raises whitecaps with its whip and hammers in vain against the windows.

Inside, the last of the lunch crowd is just filtering away, leaving most of the booths and tables empty. The decor is classic urban, with dark composites predominating, accented by the traditional wood trim found in most beach-side establishments. While it doesn't appear very large, the actual seating area curves around one corner of the hotel, providing ample room as well as a more private back area.

The bartender, a twenty-something human male with short black hair smiles at Litany.

"Can I get you something?"

09:01:46 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - University of Washington Campus, Guthrie Hall, Seattle

Kat gives a faint smile at the reminder of all the dirty looks the two girls had earned from their Professor during the semester in just the first week of the Spring Semester.

"Well...all right. But only because it's your treat," she smiles at her friend.

Scant minutes later at the Damn Good Coffee shop, over a light breakfast and a venti caffe creama each, Lana makes small talk, waiting for her friend to tell her the story.

Swallowing a small mouthful harder than she had to, it's obvious Kat's gathering her courage and deciding whether or not to let her friend in on what's up. Finally she sighs and says, "Listen Lana, remember that time I screwed up and almost got us both in some really hot water? You know, the one where we almost became actresses all right...except in the worst kind of way?"

The reference is unmistakeable, and Lana nods solemnly. You didn't forget things like that, nor the people you almost went through it with.

"Well, this situation could be worse, all things considered, and it seriously might be best if maybe you don't know about it, you know what I'm saying? I appreciate you trying to cheer me up girl, and I feel a little better already. Really."

Kat smiles tightly and tosses her back long blond hair, a casual move that only highlights her natural grace and beauty, and once again Lana marvels at how attractive her friend is.

"But seriously," Kat continues, "think carefully if you really wanna know, because I don't want to get you in trouble again, not like last time..."

After finishing her warning, Kat looks down at the table, and the struggle is obvious in her body language and posture. It's clear she wants to talk to someone; that she wants, maybe even needs help, but is afraid of what might happen if she does talk. If she's referencing that incident, then Lana can only guess at how serious this one must be. Maybe Kat isn't just being dramatic after all...

09:15:04 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Damn Good Coffee, Seattle

Lana picked at her low-fat blueberry muffin and listened to her friend watching her intently as spoke. Kat's internal struggle showing as vividly as the neon glow that lit up downtown at night. She didn't need the kind of trouble they almost got into before in her life again, but she couldn't turn her back on her friend when she so obviously needed some help, or at least a shoulder.

"But seriously," Kat continued, "think carefully if you really wanna know, because I don't want to get you in trouble again, not like last time..."

Lana suddenly found the froth on the top of her creama extremely interesting. A few moments later she let out a long sigh, continuing to look into her tall glass, watching the bubbles of frothed milk pop, one after another.

"I hope I don't regret this, but spill it. You know I've got your back." A soft smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she looked up at her friend for a second and then back down to her glass waiting for the story to begin. From beneath her dark lashes she quickly surveyed the coffee shop, fully preparing herself to see Mr. Mirrorshades lurking in some corner oogling the two of them.

14:19:33 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Tower 23, 4551 Ocean Blvd Suite 102, Seattle, UCAS
"Can I get you something?"

...harried young business woman

\\Start visual recording -

Flashing a brilliant smile and dropping into a seat commanding a view of the ocean, as well as most of the room, Litany nods gratefully at her savior.

"Please. A Pina Colada, I so need a drink. I just spent an hour with a depilatory cream salesman who was more interested in demoing his product on me then actually having me buy it! Now I'm going to have a nice drink before I head back to the office and tell my boss that his vending inventory is going to be short for a couple days this week. Like it matters, but no, he's going to scream like the world is ending, I'll have to look sorry, and say I'll run out and do my best, but where am I going to find 5000 units of depilatory cream on 1 days notice? Next thing he'll be bugging me again about the 50,000 units of mango flavor toothpaste we have in the warehouse. How was I supposed to know it was the most unpopular flavor? I liked it. At least trying out that product only involved brushing my teeth, I was smart enough to bring my own toothbrush that time. Well, I always bring my own toothbrush, you never know. Be prepared is what I say."

Brazenly, Litany takes a toothbrush out of her small hand bag and smiles mischievously as she displays it to the young man bringing her smooth ice cold colorfully decorated Pina Colada.

"I'm Dolores. Thanks."

Glancing openly around the bar and noting the dearth of customers, Litany tilts her head at the private back area, "Maybe you can tell me your name and we can get to know each other better?"

14:20:04 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Tower 23, 4551 Ocean Blvd Suite 102, Seattle, UCAS

"Dolores, nice to meet you. I'm Sloane." He waits until she's tasted her drink before he offers his hand, his grip firm and dry.

"Sure, feel free to look around. I'd join you but I'm chained to the bar until Luis shows up."

Sloane shrugs apologetically.

15:06:06 Saturday, 13 January 2063 – The Unbottled Spirit, Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

Sam mimed shaking a magic 8-Ball, a wry grimace on his face.

"Outlook cloudy, ask again later."

He drank from his beer again, eyes troubled.

"The forces behind them? Unusual in that they aren't consistent. Goals, motivations, forces. All over the map. It's bad. Worse than I've ever seen it."

14:20:10 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Tower 23, 4551 Ocean Blvd Suite 102, Seattle, UCAS

With a dejected shrug and a sad smile lifting the pina colada, "Then it's this and the beach view. Nice to meet you Sloane, maybe we can get together some other time."

//Mosquito:: Activate, launch, Stealth

Litany slowly and playfully sips her drink through the straw, carefully setting a pose to draw attention to herself and maintaining occasional eye contact with Sloane. Occasionally she stares vacantly out the large windows at the view while she considers the visual feeds from her drone, and the best spot to emplace it. Deciding as she finishes her drink, she stands. With a cheery wave she navigates out of the room past the chosen spot and on towards the doors, where she turns to take one last glance at the view before leaving the room.

15:20:17 Saturday, 13 January 2063 – The Unbottled Spirit, Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

Tony smiled a little at Sam’s remark, remembering what he’d said to Zedya earlier in the week. You’re not paranoid if they’re really after you, he’d said at the time, half flippantly Zedya at the first of the week, wondering if he should be more paranoid. Whatever Red Queen had against him, what Sam was describing seemed far more ominous, far more pressing, and a hell of a lot more widespread to be just looking for a shadowrunner. Ex-corp, thank you very much. And don’t let your ego get into this, whoever’s doing this is out for the big time, and that ain’t you. Assuming she/he wasn’t a part of it. Careful. Don’t draw patterns where they don’t exist. And where the frag is Ran’s decker friend? Waste of nuyen that cabron was, his mind thought, while regarding the dregs of his mug. Whatever it was, it wasn’t something he could afford now. Getting through Reign and this job would be tough enough, past that was Andie, and nothing else in his mind.

“I hear ya,” Tony said, regarding the half-rack of ribs still left between them. Pushing a hand into the coat that lay across the chair back, he slid the hand across the polished bartop to the ork. Pulling his hand back, Tony revealed a small plastic oval, keyed to fit over a biometric reader. “Spare key to my apartment,” he said. “If you haven’t heard from me in a week, clear it out and cash out the rent and whatever’s left. Send the money to to Ricky in Atlanta, goes by Salvo now, and he’s not hard to find. Tell him to get Andie out by himself, and that I’ll haunt him if he doesn’t,” Tony said.

“No loud parties, either,” he said, waving off Sam’s protests while rising to leave. “Stout heart, keep moving,” Tony finished, reciting an old motto while puling on his longcoat. Normally a good load itself, but if felt oddly light to Tony as he got up and left the bar. Not much, maybe, against what was to come, but it was what he had, and he’d go down shooting if it came to it. No, you’ll go down screaming if it comes to it. Keep moving, clear out what you’ll need and move on, keep moving, don’t look back or it will bite you in the hoop the smart part of him thought, silhouetted in the chill winter afternoon in at the door as he raised a hand in leaving to Sam , then was off, letting the wind slam the door shut as he walked to his car. Time to move Tony thought, picking his way thorough tourists toward the parking deck that his Americar was parked in.

09:15:59 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Damn Good Coffee, Seattle

Kat is silent for a few moments as Lana answers, then she smiles up at her friend gratefully. "Thanks Lana, I really appreciate this. I just...I don't know what to do about this guy, and I didn't want to get you involved in more trouble than I already have."

She looks around for a moment, as if she too shared her friend's trepidition that the subject of their discussion would be sitting right behind them. Turning back to Lana, she continued, "His name is Michael O'Halloran. He's been coming by the club for the last few months, and he started developing an interest in me. You already know I don't date customers, but this guy had more in mind than just that. He said I'd be perfect for a little something he was putting together. You ever hear of a Bunraku parlor?"

09:16:13 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Damn Good Coffee, Seattle

If Lana hadn't just swallowed her sip of coffee, Kat would have been wearing it. Instead of choking, she just blanched a whiter shade of pale.

"Bunraku, are you serious Kat?!?" Her eyes had to be about as wide as saucers right about then, she couldn't believe Kat was even entertaining an idea like that. She just hoped her friend was being naive and that she honestly didn't know what a Bunraku parlor was like. She shook her head and stared blankly at her friend across the table.

"Please tell me you didn't agree to anything yet. Please Kat, at least tell me you didn't promise him you'd do it."

09:16:48 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Damn Good Coffee

"Are you fragging kidding me? Working in a bunraku parlor? Do I look glitched to you?" Kat answers just bit too vehemently, drawing more than a few looks their way. "I was asking because I wasn't sure if you knew what it was, not because I didn't know or was considering it."

Glancing around sheepishly at the surrepitiously staring patrons, she continues in a lower tone, "Of course I told him to go to hell, and that there was no fragging way I would get involved in something like that, but he didn't back off. He started showing up more frequently, and it got to the point where I had to dance away from him when I was on because he wouldn't stop creeping me out."

She sips her coffee and continues, "A couple days ago, he was waiting for me outside after work, just staring at me in the creepiest way you can imagine. I had to call a friend to pick me up cause I was too scared to go home by myself. I talked to the bouncers and my boss, let me him know about the trouble, and that's when I found out..."

Kat takes a deep breath. "That's when I found out he was connected. He's a nobody, just a two-bit loser who was born into the right family tree is the way I heard it," she said venomously, "but that doesn't change the fact that he's got enough pull to make the boss not want to slot him off. I don't know how much longer I can go on like this, and I'm really afraid he'll try to do something to me."

She sighs dejectedly. "I can't quit because I need the money, and even if I found somewhere else to work, he's been stalking me so hard the last couple of weeks I'm not sure he'd back off me even if I did. I already didn't know where to turn or even how to deal with this guy, and now he's showing up at school? God Lana, what am I going to do?"

09:17:28 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Damn Good Coffee, Seattle

Lana sighed heavily, both out of relief and out of the need to backtrack and mend a bridge or two with her friend. She chewed on her thumbnail absentmindedly as she was thinking things over and was mostly joking when she made the first suggestion that popped into her head.

"You could always have something "happen" to him." She stated it pretty matter-of-factly, finger quotes and all. When Kat doesn't react right away and seems like she's almost seriously considering it Lana laughs nervously.

"You know I'm kidding right? I mean christ, if you can't afford to stop dancing, it's not like you can afford to hire someone to off the guy. No matter how creepy he is, it's still hella illegal and well frag, if he's connected..."

Lana lets that thought trail off, not really wanting to consider what horrible things could happen to Kat if she didn't watch her back and the steps she took from here on out. I mean Lana had seen enough TriD flicks in her time with the mob guys and what they were capable of.

"When are you working next? I mean I can always come down to the club, to you know, watch your back or something."