World IC Thread.

This is the IC thread for the Living in the Shadows Campaign, for the period of Jan. 8th-14th. Once your character begins Jan. 8th, you should begin posting here. The OOC thread will still be used as normal. This first post will consistently be edited to include all current IC sub-games. Think of it as a table of contents. All remaining posts after the first should be considered to be World IC posts.

Additionally, here are the links for the OOC, Shadowland IC, and the Guidelines thread, which has the character creation requirements, as well as various GM rulings on numerous topics.

General LITS Information

Living in the Shadows: Guidelines
Living in the Shadows: Recruitment 1 (closed; see LITS: Recruitment 2)
Living in the Shadows: Recruitment 2
Living in the Shadows: Special Projects

Main LITS Threads

Living in the Shadows: SR 3 OOC
Living in the Shadows: SR 4 OOC
Living in the Shadows: IC Jan 1st - Jan 7th
Living in the Shadows: IC Jan 8th - Jan 14th
Living in the Shadows: Shadowland OOC
Living in the Shadows: Shadowland IC

Useful LITS-related Links

Living in the Shadows: Story Index Page
Useful Calendar Link for 2063
Seattle Sprawl Map

LITS Run Index

Living in the Shadows: The Warehouse Job OOC 1 (closed)
Living in the Shadows: The Warehouse Job IC 1 (closed)
Living in the Shadows: Running Over the Edge OOC 2 (closed)
Living in the Shadows: Running Over the Edge IC 2 (closed)
Living in the Shadows: Salvation OOC 3
Living in the Shadows: Salvation IC 3
Living in the Shadows: A Short Victorious War OOC 4
Living in the Shadows: A Short Victorious War IC 4

00:00:00 (Specific Day) January 1, 2063
Let's start each post with a date and Location. Please post it in Orange.
I will see how things are moving along and sychronize the dates periodically.

Please put names in BOLD, a character's thoughts/internal dialogue as well as anything being emphasized in ITALICS, and spoken words in QUOTES. Oh, and don't forget to turn off signatures for all IC posts please. Thanks!

This space will contain a list of the GMs, players under them, and the characters (and names thereof) the player is playing. Think of it as a directory so you know who's out there to interact with. (We have decided to leave out what the player is, as it is info they may wish to keep private.)

Player GM: grendel

• Avalanche (Shev)
• Todd (Ecclesiastes)
• Marquis Cooper (Bastard)
• Cosmo (Morgannah)
• Tenmou (Shadowrunner13)
• Eyes (The Eyes)

Player GM: Sedna

• Andie (SentineloftheMountain)
• Dragon (WinterRat1)
• Virgil (bandit50)
• Daedalus (TiredRonin)

Player GM: WinterRat1

• Alleycat (Sedna)
• Blaze (paul_HArkonen)
• Max (Slipshade)
• Scrapheap (Scrapheap)
• Tin Star (Digital Heroin)

Player GM: Banditf50

• Knight (Moirdryd)
• Erebus (Cedric Rolfson)

05:45:33 Monday 08 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Penthouse

Max awoke to the gentile shaking of Jeeves’s hand on his arm. “You requested that I awaken you just before dawn Master Steiner. Am I free to go?”

Waking up slowly, Max rolls over and looks into the wrinkled face of the hearth spirit standing at his bedside. “Yes of course Jeeves, and thank you,” he says groggily.

The ghostly form of the butler slowly fades from Max’s view as the disembodied voice of Jeeves replies. “Just doing my job sir.”

Max sits up in bed, letting the covers fall off his torso and pool around his waist and stretches. Just the right amount of predawn light spills through the self-polarizing glass of his bedroom wall. Last nights storm had abated leaving the morning not much more than a grey drizzle. Max extracts himself from his bed and moves to a long dresser on the south wall. The dresser is covered with picture frames, their pictures a montage of people and places. One inparticular catches Max’s attention. The frame is nothing special, silver with an engraving at the bottom. “Department of Magic - Class of 2062.” It was probably the best class Max had taught. Quite a number of the students showed real interest and talent. Sandy and Mark, Rita and James, Antoinette and Cassius among others were standing in the quad at the University and in the background of the picture was a young man with short blonde hair and blue eyes. He was dressed in slacks, a black sweater and a sports jacket. He was a good-looking young man that still bore a resemblance to the man now staring at the picture. Max looks into the gold-filigree framed mirror mounted above the dresser. The blue eyes were still the same, but not much else was. The man staring into the mirror had delicate features with the distinct upswept ears and high cheekbones of an elf. His skin was no longer the pale pink of a Caucasian, but a light grey tone, the color of white granite. The short blonde hair faded almost to the point of being white and now grew to the length of his shoulders overnight, no matter how many times he cut it. He was still an attractive man, but it was an exotic beauty, it was as if someone had carved and chiseled his body from the rock that he so resembles, a statue Pygmalion would have been proud of.

‘It still just seems so strange’ he thinks as he runs his clawed hand through his hair, yanking out a knot and tying it back with a rubber band. Taking his eyes off of the reflection in the mirror Max pulls a pair of boxers and black sweatpants from the drawer and puts them on.

Again moving downstairs Max makes his way to his workout room. The room had pretty much gone to waste when he was employed at the university as most of his time was spent in research or teaching his classes. Now that he is unemployed he figures it is a good time to test out all of the equipment he had purchased over a year ago. A rack of free weight and three different benches adorned the East wall. The western and southern walls contained a number of weight machines ment to target specific muscular regions. In the center of the room was a contraption Max dubbed “The Torture Rack.” He was sure it had a real name, like the Cardo-shuttle or the Abo-lizer, but Torture Rack was infinitely more appropriate. Locking himself into the machine Max set its program to level 3 or moderately debilitating as he referred to it.

After an hour of shear torture Max crawls out of the ‘rack and makes his way…slowly…very slowly to the bath, where he strips off his workout wear and steps down into the steaming pool in the center of the bathing room.

“Music…Classical, random”

The soothing sounds of Mozart’s Serenade in Bb Major drift through the room as Max’s lets the warm waters of the bath loosen his muscles.

1200 Tuesday, January 9, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

"Hmm," says Solomon slowly, that hint of mischief back in his voice as he nods acknowledgement to Andie's security shopping list, "do you have any idea how much what Sara has, costs?"

The young mage studies him astrally, trying to determine what lies behind the comments, especially the previous one; but most of Solomon's attention is fully on the plans, with a degree of concentration that Andie had never seen in anyone except himself and his teacher (and he sometimes had his doubts about Sara). Oh yeah, and the fixer's definitely Awakened, couple of levels of initiation there for sure.

Like that's really a surprise to someone like Andie. Maybe he's just jealous I thought of it first?

"You will need something at least two or three metres wide for the mechanical room," Solomon was saying. "Ventilation, cooling space behind the coils, human-space room to fix the machinery if you have to. If you move your chimney there ... hmm ... I thought you mentioned earlier that you were thinking of having a small public reading room with a fireplace? But since you have moved your chimney to the opposite side of the warehouse, maybe you have reconsidered."

Solomon's wristphone rings. He glances at the screen, then at Andie, who hasn't moved. "Just bear in mind that 10 metres square is a very large space," he says softly. "You will not feel at all cramped in your living space. You might also wish to sketch in the furniture for your store, get a feel for just how much space you have to work with there. Now, if you will excuse me for a moment ...?"

07:50:12 Monday 08 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Penthouse

Washed and dressed, Max heads to the desk in his study and flips the switch on the computer.

‘Time to look for some work.’

08:35:30 Monday 08 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Penthouse

After some browsing on Shadowland, Max logs off and begins taking care of some minor matters around the house that need his attention. At about 8:35 or so, his phone rings. Not his house phone either. The other phone. Such a quick response, I wonder who it could be... Max thinks to himself as he debates whether to pick it up or let it ring.

21:27:31 Monday 08 January, 2063 - Seattle Class Bravo Airspace

"Seattle Center, Windmill Six One One and flight, with you level three thousand."

"Windmill Six One One flight, Seattle Center, radar contact."

"Windmill Six One One flight, contact Sea-Tac approach, one one niner point two."

"One one niner point two, Windmill Six One One flight switching."

"Approach, Windmill Six One One and flight, with you level three thousand."

"Windmill Six One One flight, Sea-Tac Approach, radar contact, descend and maintain one thousand seven hundred, say request."

"One thousand seven hundred for Windmill Six One One, we'd like the ILS runway three four right."

"Roger, Windmill Six One One, turn right three five five, vectors for final."

"Three five five, Windmill Six One One."

"Windmill Six One One and flight, you're cleared for ILS three four right approach to Sea-Tac. Weather is five hundred and one, with an RVR of fifteen hundred in snow. Braking action is fair. Altimeter is three zero two two, temperature four degrees, winds are three two zero at twenty five gusting thirty."

"Cleared full stop runway three four right, altimeter three zero two two, Windmill Six One One."

"SEA-TAC, WINDMILL SIX ONE ONE, MAYDAY, MAY-"

"Windmill Six One One, Approach, say again."

"Windmill Six One One, Approach, understand you're declaring an emergency?"

"Windmill Six One One, Sea-Tac Approach on guard, if you can hear switch to my frequency one one niner point two or two eight four point seven."

"Windmill Six One One, Sea-Tac Approach on guard."

"Windmill Six One One, Sea-Tac Approach on guard."

"Windmill Six One One, Sea-Tac Approach on guard."

0840 Monday, 08 January, 2063-Capitol Hill Terrace Apartments

Slowly hearing the incessant beeping that penetrated his dream, Tony slowly opens his eyes, lying still in bed, and feels around in his head for the telltale sinuslike headache the spells “Hangover”. Finding no headache, nor any other discomfort except for dry mouth and the annoying alarm on the trideo, he swings over an sits on the edge of the bed. Realizing that the dream was about Andie almost brings on a headache of its own. “I wonder if she made it out of Atlanta in one piece” Tony thinks to himself. Shaking the thought out of his head, Tony reaches over to his psec and makes a note to call Zeyda up and see if there’s any work out there. “Get some cred together and hire a decker to find her and Ricky”, Tony thinks to himself, before turning his attention to the alarm.

Standing up, he yells "ALARM OFF!", thinking to himself “Why the hell do I even turn this on? It’s not like I’m heading off to the office”. Grimly smiling to himself at that, he walks over to the bathroom and rinses his mouth out, then settles into his living room for his morning exercises. Looking out the window at the bleak drizzleing cityscape while stretching, Tony thinks to himself “…one of the few things I miss about the CAS: you can count on it to be sunny and dry some of the time. Not so up here…”

An hour later, with exercising and a shower and shave making him feel mostly human again, Tony gets dressed in his normal attire. Checking himself out in the mirror, he remembers what Sam always said to him. “Boy, you dress like you’re a stockbroker. Some ganger is going to get an idea that you’re an easy mark”. Smiling to himself at the memory of the old ork's needling, Tony makes a note on his psec to call up Sam and have a drink this afternoon. Satisfied with his looks and grabbing his credstick, Tony walks down to the street for some real coffee and a scan of the business screamsheets.

08:35:31 Monday 08 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor – Penthouse

Max hesitates for a second. He really didn’t want to blow Keira off today, but the phone ringing is the number he gave out on Shadowlands

‘It could be work and right now you need that more than anything.’

Max picks up the receiver.

“Hello, how can I help you?”

0955 Monday, 8 January 2063-"The Grounds" coffeeshop, Capitol Hill, Seattle
"...tall real, black, and a danish, right?" the female Elf barista repeated back to Tony. "Right", he acknowledged, and slotted his credstick. Picking up his breakfast, Tony scans the sparsely populated seating area. The morning rush over and the lunch crowd still awhile away, its easy for Tony to get a booth toward the back.

Sitting down facing the door, he takes a sip of coffee, pulls out his psec, and makes a call to Zedya's drop. "It's Tony. If you've got anything available, I'm up for it. Depending on what you have, I've got a request as well". Tony hangs up, and dials Sam. Getting his voice mail he leaves a message: "Sam, you old fragger. Unless you've got a good reason, you're having a drink or several with me later on this evening. Holler back for a time".

Having gotten something productive done, Tony settles in with the business page and his breakfast. "Renraku Posts Loss, Sites Ongoing Arcology cleanup" was the headline. Well, no drek. Not like having a mulit-hundred million nuyen PR disaster on you're hands to cause the balance sheet to be off. Scanning the rest of the sheet, Tony digs into his danish.

1130 Monday January08, 2063- Marquis Cooper's Apartment

Marquis sits in his chair daydreaming a bit, cleaning a Ares Preditor that he has taken on. The owner loves the classic model, but wants it upgraded to Preditor III capabilities. Marq understands the owners feelings, as he looks out the window at his sunset orange 2005 Cadi. A combination of old and new has always been better than SOTA, at least to those in their respected industries.

Standing to get a "wake up" stretch, Marq sets the weapon onto what has become his work desk. He double checks that he has everything before heading outside. With him he carries small dufflebag containing his overalls and lunch, just in case he is at the shop longer than expected. Today Chavez needs an extra hand droping an engine into an old Brumbry. It should only take about an hour to help him out, but you know how things go. There is always one bolt, usually the last you get to, that is stripped out.

08:36:19 Monday 08 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor – Penthouse

"I would like to speak to the Professor please," the voice at the other end answers. A slight hint of an asian accent is present in the precise, measured tones of the speaker.

"This is him," Max answers in a precise, professional tone of voice. At least, he hoped it was. As a relative newbie to shadow biz, he hadn't been exposed to very much 'real' running, working more as a freelancer on a wide variety of projects rather than limiting himself to blowing up labs and jumping off skyscrapers onto helicopters.

"A party that I represent has heard of your credentials. You seem to be an expert in parazoology and the more, shall we say, 'arcane' areas of science, yes? This party is looking for a man like yourself, one with exceptional scientific credentials and a willingness to work in more...'grey' areas of science. This party wishes me to meet with you to discuss terms of employment in regards to a special research project. Are you interested in meeting with me to learn more?"

The voice pauses, waiting for an answer.

08:38:30 Monday 08 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor – Penthouse

The thought of a job was a relief to Max, but what the man ment by the more grey areas of science he didn't know and that bothered him.

'Well, no harm in hearing what this gentleman has to say'

"I would be happy to set up a meeting with you. Where would you like to meet and on what date?"

Figuring it was best to treat this conversation as if it was one of his old faculty meetings, Max kept the tone business-like and polite.

08:38:59 Monday 08 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor – Penthouse

"How about this evening, at 2200 at the Paradigm Shift. It is a new club in town, in Touristville, Redmond. Tell the bouncer out front that you are there for Mr. Fan, and he will direct you from there. Is this acceptable to you?"

10:12:55 Monday 8 January 2063 - The Grounds coffeeshop, Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

Tony flips closed the last page of the Journal just as his phone lights up with an incoming call. The caller ID spit out the number he'd just dialed for his fixer half an hour ago.

"Tony," he answered.

"Hey, it's Zeyda. I got your message earlier. Why don't you stop by Miner's Landing tonight, say seven? I'll brief you on what I've got then."

"Sure." Tony made a note in his electronic datebook. "I'll see you then."

"Be careful out there." Zeyda cut the line. Tony pocketed the phone, his eyes glancing across a headline buried in the very back of the local news section. Pioneering computer programmer shot dead.

11:48:30 Monday January 08, 2063 - Cooper's Automotive Shop, Seattle, UCAS

Chavez was standing by the open garage door as Marq walked up to the shop, wiping his hands on a rag. He hooked his thumb towards the back office.

"Hey, some guy was here this morning when I opened up. Says he wants to talk to you about something. I told him you'd be by later and he said he'd wait. That was two hours ago. Something's not right about this ese, watch yourself."

1150 Monday January 08, 2063-Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Ok, what did I get myself into... Checking his twin gold Savalette Guardians, Marquis pulls the one for his left hand holding it low against his leg. Turning the corner into the office, he drags the gun behind him, hidden behind the wall. Standing in the doorway he is prepared to pull his other pistol, and swing the other from behind the door way.

1015 Monday, 08 January 2063 The Grounds Coffee shop, Capitol Hill, Seattle UCAS

Somehow, I don't think that suicide's involved. But who wants to kill an old computer guy now? Tony thought to himself while scanning the story. Dismissing the thought and finishing with the paper, Tony gets up and smooths his clothes, and makes his way into the drizzle back to his apartment to get his car. Now with a plan for the day, and some time to kill before this evening, he decides to pick up the car and some gear, head over to Sung's dojo for a bit, then off to his Bellvue safehouse to drop off some clothes. Maybe that old man needs some help cleaning up the place. And with a job on the way, the retreat may get some use out of it soon.

11:51:18 Monday January 08, 2063 - Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Standing in Marquis' office is a young man dressed in an expensive tres chic suit. He carries an attache case in his right hand and makes a show of checking a very expensive chronograph on his left wrist. Apart from his shaved head, the only notable thing about him are the pair of obvious cybereyes revealed when he removes his sunglasses. They are opaque and pale white, giving the impression that he has no eyes at all.

"Mr. Cooper." It's a statement rather than a question, more of an opening to the conversation than anything else. Marquis gets the impression that this man doesn't ask questions to verify information he already knows. It doesn't reassure him, though.

"Who's asking?"

"I have a business proposition for you. I understand you have a business that deals with weapon modifications and customizations. I have a weapon that needs to be modified."

08:39:28 Monday 08 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor – Penthouse

“That is acceptable. 2200 at the Paradigm Shift.” After hearing Max’s response the voice at the other end of the line thanks him and hangs up. Before he forgets, Max jots down the time and location for the meet and downloads directions to the Paradigm Shift from the matrix to his P-Sec.

‘Good this still gives me time to help out at the Respite before my meeting. I’ll have to remember to ask Keira if she has heard of this place.’

It has been a while since Max had been to a nightclub. The last time was just before his transformation. While he had been out to fundraisers and such since his surge, he had stayed away from clubs and bars. Fundraisers were controlled events, he had a purpose their and more importantly he knew most of the people involved. They are at least somewhat used to the changes that had occurred to Max, maybe even more so than he was.

‘It’s about time I give it a go.’

11:00:40 Monday 8 January 2063 – Capitol Hill Terrace , Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS
Tony checked his bag. clean clothes, and some food. Never have a enough food, and running to the Stuffer may not be the best idea if I’m having to use the place. Grabbing his Browning and making sure that the clip was loaded with gels, Tony puts it in his holster and walks down to the car to check on Sung-Kwan

14:45:11 Monday 8 January 2063- Kwan’s Dojo Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS
Tony walks out of the door toward his car, shaking his head at the old man. After helping him clean up the dojo, Sung gave him another of his philosophy lessons in lieu of a sparring match. Having made the mistake of taking off his holster while sweeping the floor, Sung launches in. “Why are you carrying that gun around? You’ve got to remember kid, you are the weapon. That thing is just a tool. You’d laugh your hoop off at a worker that carried a hammer everywhere.” “The reason I’m carrying it, grandpa, is that I’m heading to a part of town where they might shoot you if you look at them funny, even more so if you laugh at them. You said I was the weapon, but what about the armor? And where’s Sam by the way?” “Don’t know kid. He’s not supposed to come in ‘till the 3:00 class” “Tell him to call me back, I’ll need a drink later on” Tony only got to leave after promising to come by tomorrow afternoon for a workout, without the gun.

15:26:31 Monday 8 January 2063- 4054 East Gate Dr, Bellevue, Seattle UCAS
Pulling up a couple of blocks from the flat-house after circling it once, Tony checks to see if anything is amiss on the block. Nothing out there. Tony thinks to himself. Getting his bag from the trunk and walking quickly toward the building, Tony keeps an eye out for anything out there. Quit being paranoid. Not like you’re in the Barrens for God’s sake Tony thinks to himself while unlocking the front door. Feeling his psec ring, he drops the bag by the secondhand couch and pulls it out. Seeing that it’s Sam, he answers “Bout time you called me back pops. How’s the class going?” “Not bad kid. There’s one tough Troll here, but he don’t have anything I can’t handle. What time do you want to start?” “Meet me at 8 at the Spirit. Don’t let the kids beat you up too bad, kay?” “Frag off. You’re buyin, kiddo” Sam said as a way of a signoff. Getting back to his task, Tony puts away the food and clothing, and checks to make sure that the hot water still runs. Satisfied, he heads back to his car. time enough to drop off this piece, watch Awakened World for a bit, take a shower, then to Miner’s Tony thinks to himself while driving through a McHugh’s for lunch.

18:45:31 Monday 8 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
One of these days, I’m going to get a limo and a driver. And that fragger is going to drop me off at the damn doorfront with an umbrella instead of me parking two blocks away in a garage and walking in this goddamn never-ending drizzle. Tony thought to himself on the walk towards the club. At least this place has good bourbon.

18:47:04 Monday 8 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Downstairs, Miner's Landing was packed with couples and families eating dinner, voices raised above the clink of silverware and glasses. Outside the boardwalk was empty, the driving snow and cutting wind having pushed even the most ardent of shoppers back indoors.

Upstairs, the conversation was hushed, voices low and conspiratorial. Above them rose Aria's throaty contralto, the elven singer whispering dulcet secrets into the old fashioned microphone. The music calmed the ragged edges of Zeyda's nerves after eight hours of negotiations, allowing him to keep the same even tone. His eyes flickered across the club, registering Tony as he came up the stairs. A simple hand gesture passed him off to the bar for the next couple of minutes, however long it took to finish the current business.

Tony ordered, sipping from his drink when it arrived and letting the smoky ambiance of the club curl about him. As always, the bourbon chased away the January chill.

Halfway through the drink, Zeyda motioned him over.

"Glad you could make it, omae, some weather out there, neh? Listen, there's movement out on the streets, more than usual and stranger than usual so watch your back, ok? I've got a Johnson who wants to meet with you about a bodyguard job. Ten p.m. tonight, the Exxon-Mobil station West Van Medter and 30th Street. It's on the edge of the Barrens, so walk soft."

1152 Monday January 08, 2063-Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

It isn't normal for people to stop by unannounced, usually one of Marquis's fixers gives him a heads up. Maybe this is just a sign that his business is going to take off.

Still standing in the doorway, Marquis asks, "What do you have in mind?"

18:55:22 Monday 8 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

In the time that Tony had known Zeyda, he'd never even seen him rattled. "You're not paranoid if they're really after you. Anything in particular I need to worry about? And on the job, pay's high, medium, or low?"

11:52:50 Monday January 08, 2063 - Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"Destruction, actually. I need this rendered unusuable and untraceable." The pale-eyed man reaches into his attache case and withdraws a plastic flimsy. It's a close-up color photograph of an upper reciever and barrel of a rifle. Marquis glances at it, and has a difficult time concealing his surprise. The parts pictured belong to a Gepard M4(B) 12.7mm anti-material rifle.

18:55:52 Monday 8 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"No, I don't have any specific threats to warn you on. Just that there's been an unusual amount of activity lately. Pay on this job was good, between two and three thousand for a couple days work."

Zeyda consults his pocket secretary for the details.

18:56:03 Monday 8 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"Mark me down for it" Tony says. Making a note in his psec, he repeats "10:00 P.M at the Exxon-Mobil station West Van Medter and 30th Street." To Zeyda "After this job's over, I'll give you a call. I'm going to need a decent decker, nobody real fancy though, for some personal work. I'll give you more details in a couple of days."

Downing the rest of his drink, Tony gets ready to leave. "If there's nothing else, I'll get out of your hair. Take care hombre. Call me if you need me."

18:56:25 Monday 8 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"All right, I'll have a name for you when you check back in. Keep me posted, omae." Zeyda nods as Tony stands and makes his way downstairs and into the frigid night.

18:59:41 Monday 8 January 2063 – Outside Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"...no Sam, probably won't be able to meet you till after 11 now, if then. Somethin's come up. Have Rebecca put what you get on my tab till I get there, and only get the cheap stuff" Tony shouts into his phone to overcome the high wind coming off the Sound and the higher noise coming from Sam's end of the phone.

"What you think I've been doin? You stand me up, and I'll buy the house a round of the best on your fraggin tab. Get your hoop back here in one piece." Sam shouts back over the no-name Elven neo-soul band in the background.

Hanging up and walking back to his car, Tony starts to think about the meet. I'm no expert bodyguard, but I would have picked a place that has, I dunno, an enclosed area to meet in. Especially that close to the Barrens. I'll need a piece and a change of clothes. Turning up his coat coller to the wind and keeping an eye out for obvious tails, Tony walks quickly back to the garage.

21:22:25 Monday 8 January 2063 – Capitol Hill Terrace, Capitol Hill, Seattle , UCAS

A shower, a Nuke-n-Eat meal and a call to a cab company later, Tony waits outside in the wind and light snow for his ride. A flask of whiskey would be good right now. One of those Dunkelzahn ones with him breathing fire on the front. At this point, I wouldn't even mind that. Of course, if you weren't so paranoid, you'd be in a warm car right now Tony thinks idlely to himself. Even in the normally warm securetech outfit he had on, the wind was biting; Tony could even feel the Browning in its holster getting cold. Grabbing his knife would probably hurt him just as much as the fragger he was going to use it on, if it came to that.

Just as he was pulling out his psec for an angry call to the cab company, he saw his ride round the corner. Getting in, he told the Dwarf cabbie: "One block east of West Van Medter and 30th Street. An extra 30 nuyen if you wait for me." "It's your dime, chummer" the cabbie answers back as they drive off into the night.

21:50:46 Monday 8 January 2063 - One block east of West Van Medter and 30th Street, Seattle, UCAS

The streets are white, even here on the edge of the Barrens where working streetlights are few and far between. The wind, driven hard from the west, cuts right through Tony's thick longcoat and armor. Visibility is almost as low as the temperature, thick veils of blowing snow drifting across the street. Pulling the coat close about him, Tony glanced up and down the street, being careful to include the building faces as well as rooftops in his scan. Or, at least, he tried to, in this weather it was difficult to tell what was a trick of the blowing snow and what was the shadow of a sniper hunched against the roof coaming. If it comes to that, at least it'll be as bad for them as it is for me. The thought, while true, brings little comfort. Approaching the address for the meet, Tony is surprised to see another figure standing in the snowstorm, gray longcoat buttoned up and hat pulled down low over his eyes. The figure lights a cigarette as Tony watches, the flame from the lighter momentarily illuminating a harsh, weathered face.

1153 Monday January 08, 2063-Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Marquis enters the room, holstering his golden Savalette Guardian, but not before letting the client get a good view of its craftsmanship. The polished pistol finds its resting spot on the side of Marq's thigh, hidden underneath the unzipped coveralls. Taking a close look at the photograph, he steps toward the bald man.

"So you want the whole weapon destroyed, never to be seen again, or do you want the rifle back, with new barrel, new bolt and firing mechanism, different exterior, and of course, no serial number? Not that it has one now," Cooper smiles.

11:54:03 Monday January 08, 2063 - Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"I'm sorry, perhaps I was unclear. I require the destruction of only this portion of the weapon." The pale-eyed man taps the picture to emphasize his point. If he noticed the Savalette in Marquis' hand before it was holstered, he gives no indication.

1155 Monday January 08, 2063-Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"No problem, I would like to do more with it, but if all you want me to do is destroy that portion, I can do that. You dont neen any new parts then? When can you get it to me?"

11:55:45 Monday January 08, 2063 - Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

The pale-eyed man cocks his head to the side as if considering the implications of Marquis' statement. After a moment, he nods.

"Before we make delivery arrangements, I would like to talk fee. I am willing to pay 100 per hour for the destruction, and a flat 1000 for disposal of the remaining pieces. Is this acceptable?"

1156 Monday January 08, 2063-Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"Some of those other parts I will have to modify or destroy, before they are 'disposed'- that is if you want them untraceable. Don't worry about the time, I spend a lot of extra time on my work. A flat fee of 3,000 will cover everything."

09:00:05 Monday 08 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor – Penthouse

Knowing he would be getting his hands dirty, Max throws on a pair of boots beat up denim jeans and a long-sleeve, black Futura shirt and black soft leather gloves. Figuring on heading to the meet after his day at the Respite is done, Max packs a nice beige pair of Zoe’ slacks with a matching sports coat and black sweater in a travel bag alone with a pair of black dress shoes. Max slings the bag over his shoulder and grabs his ID off of the mahogany end table before entering the foyer and punching his passcode into the elevator keypad. A few seconds later the elevator doors open. Max enters his private elevator and places his hand on the palm pad.

“Good morning Mr. Steiner,” a soft feminine voice emanates from the elevator speakers. Max had never physically met the security rigger, but her voice was wonderful. “Good morning Roxy. How is everything?”

“Boring as usual Sir, just the way we like it,” Roxy replies in a playful tone.

Max appreciated their little conversations, since he absolutely hated elevator rides. It wasn’t that he was claustrophobic, it was just being incased in cold, dead metal. The only astral presence, his own. It just feels uncomfortable.

The ride doesn’t take long and the elevator doors whoosh open revealing the underground parking garage.

“Have a good day, Mr. Steiner.”

“You as well, Roxy.”

11:57:15 Monday January 08, 2063 - Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Again, the pale-eyed man tilts his head to the side, considering Marquis' counter-offer.

"That is acceptable. I can deliver the parts to any location you specify. How soon can you begin work?"

21:52:09 Monday 8 January 2063 - Exxon-Mobil station, Corner of West Van Medter and 30th Street, Seattle, UCAS

Tony approaches the man, continuning to scan discretely at obvious sniper positions. Picking them out in the wind-whipped snow and reflected light was almost an exercise in futility, though. Even keeping his eyes on a location for enough time to determine anything was difficult in these conditions. If that's the Johnson, then he's either stupid or daring someone to kill him. I don't know which is worse. This is a perfect place for a hit Tony thought to himself. Stopping a few feet from the man, Tony clinches his teeth and gets ready for business. "Mr. Johnson, I presume?" Tony asks while getting a face-full of secondhand smoke.

21:53:20 Monday 8 January 2063 - Exxon-Mobil station, Corner of West Van Medter and 30th Street, Seattle, UCAS

The man takes another drag on his cigarette before exhaling to the side. He knocks the ash from the end with a careless gesture as his eyes rake over Tony. Finally, after another long drag, he flicks the cigarette away into the shadows.

"Radian."

He motions towards the boarded up gas station.

"Step into my office."

Someone inside opens the door as the two men approach, but the interior remains dark until they are both through, and the worn plastic panel is closed again. Only then does someone unshutter a portable lantern. The light provided is dim and red, barely enough to see by, but it won't interfere with anyone's night adapted vision nor is it likely to be seen from outside. Four other figures crouch within the abandoned gas station. All of them wear hooded insulated ponchos, white with digital gray camouflage. Beneath the winter wear, Tony catches a glimpse of black and gray patterned urban camouflage jumpsuits, tac vests, and suppressed submachineguns. Radian takes his hat off, brushing snow from the shoulders of his longcoat. Tony blinks in some surprise at the face revealed. The flesh of his face is covered in scars and patches of too-smooth skin indicative of vat-grown replacement. The scars begin on the left side of his chin and travel outward in straight lines that disappear beneath his hairline. Extensive reconstructive surgery has obviously already been completed, but it looks as if the cosmetic reconstruction was stopped halfway through. The result is nothing short of horrific. Tony wonders briefly at the state of mind of the individual who would chose to wear a mask such as that. Radian smiles, a gesture which twists his face into a gruesome facsimile of the expression.

"Don't look so surprised, you're off the map now, omae, here there be monsters. But the job isn't difficult. A day and a night. I've got a couple of packages which need to be delivered to a dock in Everett. The truck is parked in the garage. You drive it out of here, sit on it for twenty four hours, drive it to Warehouse 414B at the Everett docks tomorrow night at midnight, and I pay you 3000 . We have a deal?"

21:55:57 Monday 8 January 2063 - Exxon-Mobil station, Corner of West Van Medter and 30th Street, Seattle, UCAS

Wierd people on the streets. Well, they're not on the streets anymore. They're right in front of me and I'm way outgunned. And Scarface here wants something I'm not here to do. That flask sounds really good right now, Tony thought to himself.

"I think there's been a misunderstanding. I'm supposed to be here for bodyguard duty, not as a postman. I can be a postman, but I'll want more than 3000 nuyen for that. Also, if you want me to haul stuff, I'll need some more info on the cargo. "Tony said to Radianwith a lot more confidance than he felt. 5 guys? Submachine Guns? No fraggin way I'm doing anything other than talking my way out of this. At least I didn't drive. Keeping his hands at his side and staring at Radian with a gleam of annoyance in his eyes and voice that didn't match the feeling in his stomach, Tony waited for a response, spoken or not.

21:56:11 Monday 8 January 2063 - Exxon-Mobil station, Corner of West Van Medter and 30th Street, Seattle, UCAS

Radian flicked his left hand, as if to brush aside Tony's concerns.

"Bodyguard, escort, delivery boy, same thing. I pay, you play. 3K is the going rate for a cake job like this. Why should I pay you more when I've done all the work for you? The cargo's inert, pre-packaged, sealed, and signed for. Just don't go nosing around in the rear compartment and everything will be fine."

21:57:51 Monday 8 January 2063 - Exxon-Mobil station, Corner of West Van Medter and 30th Street, Seattle, UCAS

"Fine, show me the truck, and I hope to God you don't need a rig to run this thing. Or else you really are going to need someone else. Anything I need to know if the Star pulls me over or if summer breaks out tomorrow?" Tony said with a mirthless smile. Where the hell am I going to hide a truck?

21:58:04 Monday 8 January 2063 - Exxon-Mobil station, Corner of West Van Medter and 30th Street, Seattle, UCAS

Radian laughs, a rasping, brutal sound.

"Don't sweat it, I told you I had everything covered. It's a standard Ford Workhorse with an enclosed cargo bed. The cargo is marked as foodstuffs, if anyone asks, just tell 'em you're on your way to a BBQ."

He moves to the connected garage, opening the door to reveal a beige Ford Workhorse parked next to an idling Ares Roadmaster.

"Keys are in it."

22:00:10 Monday 8 January 2063 - Exxon-Mobil station, Corner of West Van Medter and 30th Street, Seattle, UCAS

"Half now, half on delivery, and don't give me any lines about delivery-boy vs bodyguard. That part isn't negoiatiable. And at least 20% extra for expenses, if needed and proved upon delivery." Tony said. Remembering a line from an old movie about something like this, he added "Anything I need to know about the truck? Break lights out, GridGuide corrupted, Star knows this truck, stole it from the Yaks? I get this bad boy out on the road, and anything happens, I need to know that. I may know of people that can get rid of that stuff, but they don't get by on a smile, kay?"

22:00:49 Monday 8 January 2063 - Exxon-Mobil station, Corner of West Van Medter and 30th Street, Seattle, UCAS

"Truck is factory standard, clean record, legitimate VIN, plates, and registration...." Radian is about to say something else when one of the white ponchoed men leans through the door.

"Boss, Wheels says we have hostiles moving up, crossing three hundred meters." He holds out a submachinegun, butt first. Radian snatches the weapon, not bothering to cycle the bolt to check the load since his smartgun link performs that function automatically. He turns back to Tony, tossing him a credstick and moving to the garage door.

"Fifteen hundred plus expenses. Get that truck out of here. NOW." He throws the garage door open, as two of the men in ponchoes duck out the back.

1158 Monday January 08, 2063 - Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"I can start as soon as you can bring them to me. I will be here for two or three hours. Or you can bring it by tomorrow morning around eight."

11:58:35 Monday January 08, 2063 - Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

The pale-eyed man nods, reaching in to his attache case for a certified credstick.

"My associates will be by in an hour with the parts. Here is the agreed upon fee."

He nods his head slightly, before putting his sunglasses back on.

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Cooper."

10:03:40 Monday 08 January 2063 - Apartment 875, Parkewood Village Apartments, Tacoma

With a tired sigh, Todd leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. His eyes were bloodshot and the lids felt as if they were made of sandpaper. The sunlight streaming into the apartment through the cracks in the blinds didn’t help, either. A glance at the master chronograph on his display confirmed that thirty two hours had passed since he began the extensive information search. At last he had the answers he was looking for, although he had to admit that they offered only additional questions.

The troll’s name was Crash, and although it sounded like a street handle, it appeared on all of his records starting back with his first juvenile conviction for battery. That was sixteen years ago, when Crash was only eight. His early years were spent drifting from foster home to foster home, involved in a gang called Burndown. Most of his juvenile convictions stem from that, minor stuff that saw him doing two weeks to three months in various detention centers. As his street education progressed, though, so did his criminal exploits. Several drug charges appear on his record, as well as armed robbery and auto theft. The last entry in his Lone Star record, though, was what sent him away for three and a half years: assault with a deadly weapon, kidnapping, and armed robbery. He was paroled early for good behavior, and seems to have had something of a revelation while in prison.

When Crash got out of jail eighteen months ago, he sought out and joined a small church group in northern downtown called The Church of the Lord’s Way. Crash apparently worked as some kind of missionary or relief worker for the church, although not in the traditional sense. Crash and a team of five other individuals were responsible for several “Robin Hood” type shadowruns which seemed to benefit various people around the metroplex. They shut down a brothel that the Mafia was operating which employed underage girls. They destroyed a Terra First! cell which was operating in Puyallup. A vicious street gang charging protection for local merchants was burned out of its safehouse. The last mention of the team is just over a year ago, something about an operation against Novatech where the team was betrayed by someone else inside the Church. In the resulting firefight, half the team was killed along with the informant, and the church building burned to the ground. Since then, Crash has been off the grid, probably lying low and waiting for any residual heat left to blow over.

Lone Star’s records are pitifully incomplete, listing no next of kin, or home address, or any details of schooling. The name Crash is only associated with the criminal SIN assigned by Lone Star, so Todd is unable to utilize population statistics or demographics to assist in the search for any of Crash’s family. His medical record really wasn’t much of a help either. Somewhere along the way he’d picked up a datajack, some headware memory, a math SPU, although only a rating 1, and a second-hand cyber-forearm with a cyberdeck already built in. Todd thought the last part was a sign of clinical insanity.

In the end, the questions he had about the troll’s identity had been answered, but that didn’t solve the greater mystery of what he’d been doing at the apartment building, nor why he was so brutally gunned down.

Cross checking with information about the Church of the Lord's Way provided no additional information, either. Started two years ago by an ex-shadow runner named Gabriel, it operated on a shoe-string budget and offered the usual comforts of food and shelter to those less fortunate on the streets. The actual faith practiced at the Church appears to be a modified Unitarian approach, more common these days in the smaller denominations. It was registered as a legitimate faith with the UCAS government. No mention is made of any of Crash's fellow teammates, or what happened to them after that fateful night.

1159 Monday January 08, 2063 - Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"Thank you, the same to you sir."

Marquis watches the man leave, then returns to the garage to assist Chavez. What a strange guy, but I guess we all are.

"Well lets get to work then."

22:01:35 Monday 8 January 2063 - Exxon-Mobil station, Corner of West Van Medter and 30th Street, Seattle, UCAS

Pocketing the credstick with his left hand and drawing his Browning with his right in one smooth motion, Tony moves toward the drivers side door of the truck. "Which way are they coming from?" he asks Radian as he chambers a round.