Shadowrun
Shadowrun Play => Play-by-Post => Topic started by: Elektrycerze3 on <08-06-14/1344:37>
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Thank God, it’s Friday! Even the acid rain can’t spoil the fun.
The sprawl is somewhat calm before the night truly begins. John Q. Public is getting dressed for the night at a corp-approved nightspot while Sally G. Gang and her crew are running last-minute checks on their bikes before they leave to frag with a KE patrol.
And there is only one person who can snag your plans for the Friday night. Mr. Johnson.
@Moto,
>>> Text Message;
>>> From: Valkyrie;
>>> You need to get out more. Good thing you have me as your wingwoman. I’ve set up a date for you this evening. She is a bitch, but it’s worth it. Meet her in Renraku Omnidome on Pier 64. Hope you like comedy;
>>> Attachments: Trideo ticket, “Cree&Dido in London”, 8:20pm.
@Kachina,
You have a message!
The Matrix icon of a featureless man in a brown uniform without insignia pops up in AR and addresses you in Hopi:
Evening! Hope this finds you well. A nice lady is interested in your talents and wants to meet you personally. You’ll find her in Renraky Omnidome this evening (see attached tickets. By the way, text me if you like the flick – I haven’t seen it yet).
She’s also looking for a guy (or gal) who knows his way around guns, so if you have anyone in mind, I’ll send you another ticket.
>>> Attachments: Trideo ticket, “Cree&Dido in London”, 8:20pm.
@Carbonel,
Clan chat
Dunkman: AFC 5m
Fool King: @Dunkman not cool man
Fool King: k, every1, hit Jareth before we raid the Arcology - need 2 panthers
PM from Fool King: not u. i have real stuff for u this time. quest mark on pier 64. check your inbox for ticket. Q?
Unsurprisingly, you find a trideo ticket for tonight in your inbox: >>> Attachments: Trideo ticket, “Cree&Dido in London”, 8:20pm.
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Theodor Logan was a good kid, a bit young and thin, but a pretty good kid. At least thats what most people would believe, what they didn't know was his secret. At least not most of them, those who knew, knew what he really did.
On the outside, he was a shut in, someone who never really left the house, never had anyone over, never really did anything. In fact, most of his time was spent playing various matrix massive multiplayers. One in particular was Shadowrun Online, something that his clan used secretly to recruit players into running the shadows.
Loading the Triod message, he'd look for the quest marker placed down by his leader, and how far he'd have to go to get there.
If he could just take a short walk to get there, he'd put on his chameleon suit and walk down the streets in it, avoiding as many people as he possibly could. However if that would prove to be an impossibility due to length of time he'd need to get there, instead he'd put on his coat, slipping the chameleon suit inside his duffle bag and call a taxi to drop him off at a closer location, but still far enough away that he couldn't be too well tied to his quest marker.
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The message from Valkyrie appeared in the corner of Moto's AR view, and with a thought he dismissed the blueprints currently occupying his attention to read what she'd written.
"Bah, I need to get out more like I need a hole in the head..." he thought, and looked out from underneath the vehicle he was currently working on towards the chassis of the Renraku Manservant-3 drone sitting near his workbench. "Not quite ready yet... Oh well, if it can't be helped."
>> Message to Valkyrie:
>> Understood, Valkyrie-sama; Moto looks forward to go flying with you one day, but will attend meeting in mean time. If this Cree & Dido is anything like traditional Kabuki, Moto will have great time. Arigato gozaimasu.
The dwarf took one final look at the suspension of the BMW 400GT that he'd been working on for the last 3 hours. "Just need to finish calibrating the rocket boosters and she'll be ready. Crazy fraggin' tusker wants to jump his car? Not my problem so long as he pays in advance; told him in no uncertain terms that the frame won't take it..." Moto gathered up his tools and carefully cleaned and stored them in their respective places. The shop looked more like a sterile emergency room than the messy garages full of dirty tools, spare parts, and debris that most people visited, but Motozone was hardly your average repair shop. "Better look up this Omnidome, just in case" he thought as he keyed in some search parameters on his RCC and got on with preparations.
Moto mentally ran through his usual list of gear as he loaded up the large Roadmaster sitting in the back of his shop. "Dragonflies, check. Roto-Drones, check. Jammers, check. Mounted weapons locked and loaded, check and check. Survival kit, check. Medkit, fully stocked, check. Tool kits, check. Various drugs; psyche, long haul, slab, and narcojet, check and check." He then ran the wrapper program through the usual process of disguising his restricted and illegal gear to look like various weather sensors, and turned his attention to the large armored car itself. "All right, Natalie, time to go for a ride. But first, let's take care of your particulars. New license plates and matrix access ID for one, and a darker, olive green today, I think." While he spoke out loud to himself the dwarf manipulated his AR keyboard, nodding with pleasure as the vehicle changed before his eyes, then mounted up and headed out into the night.
Following the directions his search had returned he arrived at Pier 64 early by about half an hour, and decided to hang around for a little while still in the safety of his armored car. He took a look at the area in the matrix, and easily spotted hundreds upon hundreds of icons nearby. "No surprise there," he thought somewhat dejectedly, and hopped out of the large vehicle to make his way towards the venue for the meet.
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The message caught her by surprise but Kachina was excited to finally get a potential job.
"I've been told a 'lady' should never go to the trid movies alone, forward that extra ticket." She replied to the mysterious virtual man.
A thought was enough for the trodes headband to create and send a message to Rolen.
"You lucky guy is going out tonight. Renraku Omnidome on Pier 64. We're going to the Cree & Dido flick. Pick me up at 7:20, corner 57th Ave S and 144th st south. Possible Run for us."
They'd arrive early enough to scout the surrounding area. In such a busy place she wasn't expecting to find much, but
Meeting in a public place was a smart move but not one that she really enjoyed. It would mean not bringing her submachine gun. No need for creating more trouble than needed once there. Lucky fo rher the Thunderbird power waa with her. She just hoped Rolen had the same common sense.
She looked at the clock; she had enough time to make herself presentable. Some make up, face painting, and do her hair. Well it was Friday after all, might as well look good.
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The chime of the commlink caught Rolen by surprise. One could not clean his guns nowadays without being interrupted. His hesitation was quickly put aside as he saw who the sender was. He opened the message and read through it. Rolen smiled. A possible job? A quick trip to the 'Goodies closet' revealed that his explosives were still there. Rolen returned to his Ares Alpha and put it back together. He still had some time. Enough time at least to brush his hair and get some decent clothes on.
Ten minutes later Rolen was out the door. He wasn't armed, his fists alone were good enough. He arrived at 7:15, which was early enough
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Carbonel ended up having to go with the taxi rout, hailing one with a quick matrix message. Packing his chameleon suit in a duffel bag, he'd soon take the taxi out to a location fairly close to meet, but far enough away that there could be plausible deniability.
Once there, he'd look for a place he could switch into his chameleon suit without too much difficulty and stash his other clothing. Preferably some place with lockers, or some other such place. Baring that, he'd find the best hiding place to stuff it, and stick a micro camera across the way to watch the bag, making it unlikely for someone to take it and get away without him knowing.
And with that, he turns on his suit and begins walking down the way, using his abilities to put his suit under his Technomancy PAN and making sure everything was running silent.
<<Trick, engage hyper form one.>> He called out to the matrix for a sprite, Trick. A little digital cat came running up through virtual space and up to Carbonel, jumping on his back and pulling down zipper where the cat rushed inside, closing the digital zipper behind him.
Soon little images began coming into The cat King's view, a hyper intuitive interface created by the sprite.
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It wasn't long before a taxicab pulled up at the corner of 57th Ave S and 144th st South. The door opened and inside was Rolen, looking made up, ready for the night.
She jumped in and added: You know tonight is not just for the fun right? Maybe we should have asked the Japanese Dwarf for a ride, just in case.
The ride was going to be under 30 min and Kachina positioned herself comfortably into the cab seat. She closed her eyes and murmured a few words calling on the Great Thunderbird to share his mighty sight with her.
Arriving at the theater, Kachina acted as any citizen would do, a touch of excitement to go out on a Friday night. A smile didn't leave her painted face, but her eye were all too aware of her surrounding, scanning the crowd and what was happening around her, making a mental note of the unusual and suspicious.
She took her seat and once more scanned her surrounding, this time letting her senses shift to the Astral plane. The familiar colors and flow of emotions was a very different world, but one she was attuned to and enjoyed navigating.
Small taking to Rolen, she continued: I've heard the trid is hysterically funny, looking forward to it.
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The Omnidome smells like butter and overpriced snacks.
There are few visitors tonight, just enough to not feel lonely. The theater itself looks impressive, even imposing: one can easily fill his whole field of vision with just the trideo. The sound check of the surround system makes everything tremble a bit: that thing might actually register on a seismal detector. On the other hand, it's conspicuously run-down: the chairs are patched, some don't recline properly and squeak quite audibly. Intrusive AR flak offers to troll-size your drink for just 1.99¥
All in all, a true trideo experience.
For all practical intents and purposes, security is non-existent here. Sure, there might be some hidden guards and turrets tucked somewhere, but Carbonel had little trouble sneaking inside undetected.
You are all sitting in a somewhat secluded spot. Even if there were people nearby, it would be hard for them to eavesdrop with the blasting of pre-trideo commercials.
The movie is about to begin, when you see someone approaching in the dark of the Omnidome. Must be your Johnson.
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Moto sat motionless in his seat, hoping this whole meeting thing would all be done with soon. "If only I'd focused on that Manserverant drone" he thought to himself, "I wouldn't be here right now. In the open. Exposed. Vulnerable."
The hairy dwarf shuddered slightly at the thought of all the germs that were probably all over these seats. "Ugh. Will need to disinfect myself, the vehicle and drones, and all other equipment after this is done." He looked around at the people sitting near him, and declined the AR pop-up for the troll-sized drink. "Silly AR ads; you can't determine that I don't even have a drink? Whoever coded you should be ashamed." He began preparing an angry, anonymous message to the theater ownership when he saw approach out of the corner of his eye. "Huh? Who's that, then" he muttered to himself, and squinted his eyes to try to get a better view.
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What, already!? she thought. Somehow Kachina was hoping she could have started watching and enjoying the Trid. She kind of hated when reality hit.
She gently elbowed Rolen in case he had missed their potential Johnson approaching. Let me do the talking. she whispered sarcastically to the quiet young man.
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Using the matrix, Carbonel used his living persona to generate something in AR to talk with the Johnson, as he noticed him.
A cat wearing a crown jumps up on a ball, and begins rolling it towards the Johnson throught the matrix, making sure to keep it out of the view of other people's AR until he identified who was around.
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Kachina easily identifies all the Johnson's bodyguards, as their auras tense up the moment she walks into the theater. Four of them are sitting inside already. Another two follow Johnson into the theater, maintaining a ten seconds gap. All in casual clothes, one elf among those already seated, no visible weapons. No magic-users among them, apparently.
Your Johnson tonight is a homely woman in her thirties. Nothing particularly catching about her, she looks more like those corporate secretaries who are picked for their skills, not their looks: squabby, with thin ash blond hair and careful make-up.
She disregards the AR persona of Carbonel and with a fixed smile she approaches those seated: konbanwa, ladies and gentlemen. She stops for a short bow and then proceeds to her seat without looking at you. She smells like reseda; the fragrance hits you right through all the noise, drowning it completely.
When seated, she proceeds, looking directly at the screen: I hope you are aware that use of any recording devices here is strictly prohibited. Her voice is definitely prettier than herself: it has a panne velvet feel to it. I haven't seen that trideo before, but I've heard there are car chases in it and some heroes take actions with rather questionable morals. Is that OK with you? Maybe you can tell me about your trideo preferences?
She seems to like euphemism quite a lot.
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The Cat playfully rolls over on his ball and flops back into a seat, adjusting his crown. <<"Oh, I'm always up for an exciting thriller, a buddy cop trideo!">> It remarks happily, slightly purring in its synthesized voice. <<"I heard this new one is coming out with an annoying sidekick too.">>
Meanwhile, Carbonel remains motionless
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Kachina could not resist a grin on her face.
let just put it this way, whatever the odds, the heroes always manage to complete their mission in the flicks I watch. I tend to favor the ones more mystical and spiritual, and morals are but human opinions created by a society the greater spirits could care less about.
That said car chases can be quite exciting, I'm looking forward to seeing what this trid has to offer.
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Moto simply stared at the woman while the others talked. "Did she really ask us here to talk about our trideo preferences?" he thought, trying to think if she might have inferred something else and failing completely. "Respectfully, Ms. Tanaka, Moto did not come to talk about trideo. I was lead to believe there was work to be discussed" he said in the rather straightforward manner befitting someone who'd spent decades in the Japanese Imperial State. His heavy Japanese accent and Koborokuru ancestry was further proof that the dwarf had probably only been in Seattle for a couple of years, give or take.
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After Moto's comment your Johnson simply clams up.
A unanimous laughter fills the resulting silence: after endless commercials and opening credits the trideo has finally started. On the gargantuan trideo screen two men in bizarre uniforms featuring a Tudor hat, apparently the protagonists of the story, are driving a red two-decker right into the oncoming traffic lane, all the while cussing at the "postal Brits going the wrong way".
Finally, Ms. Johnson continues: let's put it this way: I have an idea for a short trideo of my own for which I am ready to provide partial funding. Currently, I am looking for prospective partners. Let's just say that it's a sure blockbuster: the plot follows the adventures of a certain team of professional criminals who hijack a moving prison vehicle to daringly rescue a falsely accused individual. Of course, said individual remains completely unharmed. Now, I can invest something along the lines of 100.000 nyen. I can not disclose more at the moment, but if you are willing to enter into an NDA agreement, I can show you the draft of the script.
With that she turns to Moto: does this sound like work? Her smile and the heady smell of reseda make it a bit hard to focus.
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Kachina gave a look at the Dwarf. Some people should stay quiet in meet. Apparently following nuances of speech and metaphors weren't Moto's forte.
Nevertheless, the amount of the 'investment' was sweet music to Kachina's ears. Extractions were all ok by her standards, but the Prison vehicle part meant the security would be pretty heavy.
"I know the perfect 'Actors' for such a production. I take it the filming will should take place very soon, right?"
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Moto didn't quite understand why this woman was wanting to hire runners for a movie production, but if it paid well he'd pretty much drive anything, and he told her as much, in Japanese this time.
"Ms. Tanaka, if you need a stunt driver you've come to the right man. As long as it has a rig I can drive it; movie or no movie. I am honored to accept your terms."
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What was that? Chinese, Japanese, Korean? she didn't know, but whatever the dwarf had said, she had no clue.
It comforted her in her idea to create her own team of runners, and act as one. Being an independent runner had its charm, and splendor, but a team could pull much more weight in négociation. Yes, she lied about knowing exactly who would befit the job, but she was determined into finding the right persons who would follow her in the craziest run.
Could Moto be one of them? The two had briefly worked together on a couple occasions. His skills with vehicles were undeniable. But how would he play with others was still something to be seen. She was more than willing to take the chance with him though, good riggers were valuable assets in a team.
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<< The cat nodded, adjusting his crown. "Of course! I can provide the comic relief!" He bounced excitedly. Not bound the rules of the physical world, he faded from view for a moment, taking a position nearest Kachina's shoulder. Such was augmented reality, If he couldn't watch from where he was, positioning AROs and the like would be so much harder.>>
In the real world, Carbonel continues to watch from his seat, still not moving much himself.
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"Hey, what wa-" Rolen was cut off when he saw the Johnson. "Oh." He smiled as she asked him to let her do the talking. "Of course." Rolen listened to her as she used the trideo as an euphemism.
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Understandably, you Johnson isn't eager to share all the details of the "script": Soon, yes. That is a busy business. I managed to get the prison vehicle for only one day, in approximately two weeks from now. There are also other vehicles involved, two escort cars. We have to shoot the scenes with them pronto as we hired a real shaman for that. All the other stuntmen involved are just expendables, but the shaman is a real deal. She smiles and turns in her seat to face Kachina: I reckon the involvement of a shaman in this production might pique your interest.
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<<"Great! That gives me enough time to go over my script and really check my performance!" The cat sits on the ball grinning, and quite ready for the job. Though for now, he seems to be calmer now that some of the details were out of the way. "Mail the script to my agent.">>
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As she heard they will have to deal with another Shaman, Kachina's face turned dead serious. Ever since the debacle with the PCC shamans, she hated having to confront one. Not that she wasn't prepared for that, on the contrary; just that she knew things could always turn very bad and very wrong, and many get hurt in the process.
My interest and price at the same time. she answered the Johnson. This kind of 'consulting' doesn't come cheap nowadays. Extra preparation and planning will be necessary to welcome your special guest. We'll also need at least one extra person to assist. So I hope your 'investor' won't mind getting him a share too. . She paused for a short second.
If so I believe we're all ready to start working on the project. Usual terms of 50% upfront, and full script with specifics to be send to us all asap. Do we have a deal
Kachina's voice was very assertive and confident. She had conducted these sort of negotiation in the past and her body language left no doubt she meant business.
She looked at the three others who will be part of the Run, see if they would object to anything. As her eyes stopped on the quiet young one hiding in his Chameleon suit, she wondered if she should have turned on her trodes headband, for any AR activity...
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After you accept, she nods and begins her pitch:
Alright, here is the gist of the plot. A innocent person is being transported from the Metroplex Prison to the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. The vehicle is a Lone Star "Black Mariah" Ultra-Security Prisoner Transport Vehicle (USPTV). Besides the two LS officers in the USPTV, there are two escort cars with four people in each. One is a Lone Star Patrol car - regular schmuck. The other is a PCC security car. You can probably guess in which one the shaman is.
Johnson pauses just for a second, when a burst of laughter fills the Omnidome.
The convoy leaves late at night. For some background reasons (the writers will come up with something soon, I'm sure), the whole thing is being done in secret. Of course, explosions look better at night, and it rationalizes the I-5 being free enough for high-speed chases.
You have to admit, she somehow manages to sound captivating. And even the loud and intrusive trideo with it's clownish music and the laugh track is powerless in the fight for your attention. Maybe it's something about the cadence of her voice or the fact that she's paying you a hundred thousand nuyen. It's definitely not the eye-contact as she seems completely focused on the screen.
The protagonists yank the poor innocent soul free and keep the poor thing save and sound until there is an opportunity to reunite the unchained prisoner with his loving family. Of course, the family is happy to recompensate the runners for their trouble: after all, they kept their relative absolutely unharmed.
Like it always happens in trideo, the KE don't arrive in time to do anything. That would just bog the things down, wouldn't it?
As your Johnson slowly pulls out an old fashioned data chip from her pocket, she turns and smiles at Kachina: here is the chip with the technical details: shooting locations, vehicle characteristics, profiles of some of the stuntmen involved, thank kind of things.
Just before passing it to your shaman, she asks politely:
Do you have any questions?
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Kachina took and pocketed the datachip with a nod to the Johnson.
Only one: how long until the Family can reunite with the prisoner? in other word, how long will the protagonists will have to look after the prisoner?
Outside of that piece of information, Kachina was ready to leave. The new team had a lot of planning to do and preparation work and she wanted she could meet quickly with the runner she hoped would join and complement the team. Her Friday night fun was over, now that they had a run to do, she was all business.
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Just enough to show all the characters in enough detail. Make the viewers sympathetic towards them. Story-wise the writers explain it as a need to lay low for a wile, shouldn't be longer than a day - she answers with a habitual smile.
On the chip you will find keys to a bank account with your operating budget. Give it a few minutes to show up.
Then it becomes a little awkward as she apparently plans to stay and watch the trideo.
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I think I need some popcorns She said.
Kachina got up and made a sign with her head to Rolen to follow her. A quick glance at both the hairy Asian Dwarf and the young human in his chameleon suit silently stated her intention to leave.
She turned back the Johnson a brief second to add:
Rest assured it will be a blockbuster
Then proceeded to walk out.
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<<"Ah ha of course! And there is the part where the thing and the thing do the one thing! Until then, Toodaloo!" And with that, the cat jumps back into his ball, the icon shattering into a lot of pixels>>
Back in the real world, Carbonel gets up, pretty sure he did make some sort of appearance for the others involved in the job. He was after all, a very shy person face to face, only though the relative anonymity of the matrix could he really function socially.
With the acceptance of the job as well, he stands to quickly move out of the theatre.
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Rolen quietly paid attention to the Johnson. His heart started speeding up. Explosions, gunfire, yes... he could see it now. It would, no, will be glorious. His thoughts of mind bending destruction were halted as Kachina said his name. "Coming." He said, standing up to follow her out.
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Does any of you boys know of or can offer a place where we can meet safely? The next two week are going to be quite busy. We need a secured HQ and we need to find a safehouse where we'll keep the target once extracted.I'm looking to get another runner involved with us for this run, or maybe longer term, I have a couple messages to send.
She did get a bag of popcorn, but never returned back to the theatre. The small group exited, ready to do business.
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"Uh.. well.." He muttered, before turning his back to the woman, his hands pressed together, fingers tapping. In person, he wasn't a very good talker, not by a long shot. Biting his lip, the digital algorithms flowing around him again.
<<The ball inflates into existence, as the cat from before hops onto it. Always feeling a bit more comfortable like this, "Well, as long as we don't do anything too spoilerish, we should be able to use a place I have. But we have to be careful, never film where you live and all that."
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All Kachina saw was the young man mumbling something and turn around. Without her Trodes active, she had no clue that something was happening in Augmented Reality.
Look, kid. I remember of you. We worked on a run together, two months ago or so. No one in the team wanted to work with you, and I don't recall seeing much of you anyway, so it's fine if you don't recall my face. I only remember them talking about Runs being nothing like a video game and that you would get us all killed. Well guess, what I'm alive, and for all I know the other runners too.
Maybe you don't know what Running is like, maybe you do. Maybe you do suck at what you were hired for - what was it? Matrix support, right - but I tell you what, I don't care. All I do care right now is that someone had you come to this meet, that someone has enough fate in you to accomplish something. And it happens that you are now in my team. And as such you will get the respect every other teammate will get, the respect I expect every teammate to also give. Are we clear on that?
So now, if you want to talk to me please look at or towards me at least. If you are doing some sort of AR Shenanigans, just be aware I only use my trodes when on the run and required, so sorry I have no idea what's going on there. By the way, I'm Kachina.
She extended her hand toward the young man her intense but kind eyes piercing straight through him.
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Carbonel nods a little, looking at the hand for a few moments before finally extending out his own, cautiously. For Kanchina he points to thin air, to anyone who he wanted to see, he was pointing to his catlike living persona. This world of cybermancy and plastics was easy for the kid to get along just fine, even if he wasn't a very out going person in real life.
So many things were automated, electronic or otherwise inhuman. It was this, the world of flesh and blood, that he had problems working in. Especially when it was a more personal relation, asking for a taxi to drive you somewhere, getting a hamburger from the stuffershack, or other times when the employee was nothing more really but a living machine meant solely for the purpose of ringing up junk.. those interactions didn't really bother him much.
Letting out a small sigh though, he runs a quick data search for information on the extended hand, reaching out himself to shake her hand now, finally. He only hoped she would use her trodes here soon, hoping she'd realize that was what he was pointing at earlier.
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Kachina grabbed her commlink, but instead of activating her Trodes, she typed a few times and brought the device to her ear.
This is Kachina Powaka. We spoke before about considering joining my team... Well, we now have a job that will required your skillset . If you're interested and free, consider yourself hired. The pay is good for this one.
The indian soldier received a message. He had heard of the woman so called Spirit Witch wanting to gather a solid team. He was too busy at the time, but now was his chance. Would he take it?
She looked back at the young man pointing his finger in the air whom she believed was going to take on the computer part. Rolen was next to him. She reiterated her question, not knowing the kid had offered something already: So, I called up another runner, we need somewhere safe where we can discuss our plan of action. Anyone?
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"Well I suppose we could go back to my house." Rolen said out loud. "I have plenty of explosives and weapons and stuff there. LEGALLY." He said the last part a bit loud, in case anybody was eavesdropping.
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Jag lined up the shot, rubbing the cue through the stubble on his chin as he anticipated the victory.
The black sat slightly off to the left of the pocket, an easy shot in anyone's book. He took it, watching the white fly down the table at a decent pace, a touch of backspin on it for safety. A mili-second before impact, the holoprojector flickered and died, causing the balls to fade from existence.
Jag shot an angry look at his opponent, stood at the far side of the table with a big smile on his face. Dang, what a shame
Jag's blood boiled, fucking scumbag was clearly on the make.
The tattooed muscle head squared up as Jag stood up from his shooting posture, a noteable change in the stance of his "buddies" showed they were alert and ready to hand out an asskicking.4 of them, I like those odds.. Jag reached for his staff as his commlink vibrated, lighting up his AR feed.
Problem?! taunted his opponent, but the message brought Jag back to his senses.
Work was a lot more valuable than dishing out some retribution on these hustling wankers.
Grabbing his kit off the stool behind him, Jag left the pool hall without saying a word, silently fuming at the jeering and taunting hurled his way as he walked towards the door.
Mentally he dictated a reply:
//Kachina, good to hear from you. Count me in, how good are we talking?//
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Carbonel fidgeted in place, gulping loudly. Glancing to the commlink, he frowns slightly. Using his talents was going to be hard if no one used technology. He glances to Rolen and then to Kachina. "Commlinks.." he spoke out loud in a bit of a whisper, pointing to the device, before attempting to send a message to Kachina's with the location of his own home.
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Kachina read the location sent by Carbonel. Her eyes widen then looked back at the young man with a frown taking form on her face.
Is that where you live? You want to bring a group of armed criminals to a secured area so they can chill at your place? Fancy.
She tilted her head , intensifying her look at Carbonel trying to figure out who he was. She was afraid of finding out. She noticed earlier he had no cyberware. Now she found out he was living in a rich neighborhood.
Let me ask you this: have you ever been in a gun fight? Heck, do you even have a gun?
She activated her Trodes. The world of Augmented Reality kicked in all around her. She didn't mind it but had stopped being impressed by it a long time ago. Even virtual reality has been unable to reproduce the sensations she could get from the feeling and insights of Astral Projection.
She pinged Jag with the address of Rolen. <meet me and the rest of the team there, 20min>
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<<"Ah! Finally You're here!" The cat suddenly responds, wiping a bit of drool of its face. "Was getting a bit afraid there you'd forgotten about me." Teleporting near the boy, The cat adjusted it's crown and patted the boys leg. "Please, pay no attention to the man behind the curtain. It is I! The Cat King who you should be showering with praise and attention! Now as for a gun, No. Neither of own a gun that can affect your world of flesh and blood and " making an eww face. "organ things. However, " he reaches into his fur pulling out a comically large revolver. "This however is the most powerful handgun in the entire matrix. Blow a hole clean through any fancy electronics there is. Magically stuff however.. That is completely your world my lovely... Uh.. Lady?">>
Carbonel shrinks a little at the intensifying look at himself, looking down a bit and away from Kachina, showing just how separated he practically was from the real world.
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Kachina's eyes caught Rolen's, a dubious look on her face. She'd heard of rich kids wanting to enter the Shadows for excitement and adventures, thinking it'd be like a life-like Video game.
Rolen, it'd be your place then. Is it big enough for the four of us? Let's make a stop by my pad to grab first.
She looked again at Carbonel and the digital cat representation next to him. Her aura was strong and intimidating, but her traits kind and reassuring. She hoped he was as good in the Matrix as he pretended to be and wouldn't be too much a liability on the ground.
-
<<To: Kachina>>//No problems, i'll grab my kit and meet you there.//
Jag focussed his Qi inwards, quelling it from rising as the taunts still echoed in his head.
The door slammed behind him and he stepped out into the cold night, aware that that might not be the last he heard from those pricks.
He kept his guard up, hand never straying too far from his trusty staff, concealed though it was.
Jogging over to the carpark and down to the basement level, his breath formed neat little clouds in the cool evening air, the car door cold to the touch.
He zapped the address details over to the car's pilot program, adding it as a waypoint to its satnav and he purred the car out of its bay.
The AR interface glowed a beautiful orange, contrasting nicely against the cool metallic greys and whites inside the cabin. It was a sleek motor and it went like shit off a slippery stick when he needed it to.
Today though, he didn't, and it was a relatively traffic free cruise back home to pick up his "work" gear, stashed inside a forgettable looking duffel bag in the boot with the wireless turned off on everything for good measure.
He let the pilot do most of the hard work, keeping an eye on it as it crossed the town before taking the reigns on the final couple of miles.
This part of town was on the shitter side of the scale, the kid he was meeting was clearly either on the down-low or was just trying to hide in plain sight. It paid to be careful in this game though, so Jag circled the block, getting a feel for the entrances/exits and likely ambush spots before parking up opposite the address. He slaved the car's security system into an AR terminal, tasking it with alerting him with any movement on its motion sensor before minimising the window to the upper right of his glasses.
Killing the engine, the car chimed it's goodbye as he stood, taking in the night air and absorbing the view.
-
Rolen nodded at Kachina. I should say so, it's a decent sized house. He glanced over at the kid. He wasn't quite sure about him, especially seeing as how he never said anything. That might be a problem. He also didn't much look the type to be good in a firefight. Then again, with Rolen, he wouldn't need to be.
-
While the waited for a cab, he slowly glanced between the two vets. Talking to people in real life has always been a bit of a deal for the kid, as most of his contact with the shadows was through computer. Still, he was soon going to prove his usefulness.. the moment he could get them to begin watching the matrix like most people he's worked with before.
-
Kachina felt reassured with her submachine gun hanging low on her thigh. They made their way to Rolen's place and she gave him the green light when Jag finally showed up.
The four of them were finally together. They had a long two weeks ahead of them to be ready for the extraction. She handed the data chip to Carbonel. Show us what's inside, that should give our friend Jag a good sum up of what needs to be accomplished.
-
Jag nodded at Kachina and the others as they arrived, politely introducing himself in his slight Indian-tinted accent.
It had lost a lot of its edge over the years, Jag having to deliberately lose it due to the difficulties some of the "natives" had in understanding him. His status as an immigrant was bad enough, he didn't need a funny accent on top of it all.
He headed inside with the others, taking in the room's details and finding a spare seat to park his ass on, looking forward to the details of the job-in-hand. It had been a while since he'd had a decent payday and he was ready for a damn good steak dinner.
-
Silently the kid nodded, taking the chip as he sat it down on the table. Sitting in front of it, he held his hands out, opening the files within the matrix, specifically pulling up images and information of the roads they where about to do the job on. Slowly he took a few moments himself to figuring how he'd plan the attack.
-
For those looking on the matrix, the kids' cat persona paces back and forth, throwing various ArOs around, seemingly randomly at first, "Ugh.. This is a nightmare. I knew it was gonna be tough but like this, impossible! Look here, look at this." he glances around at those in the room. " I do hope you're all watching this, its important! This guy This guy right here" the cat points at the defense driver. "He's gonna make it a very bad trido! If he pushes a big red shiny button while he's rigged in.. BLAMO! We fail. Game over man! If we kill him...BLAMO! Fail again! We have to somehow force him to disarm the bombs before we disconnect him. I've got paints, but not a no-blamo code!"
The cat grumps, huffing. "Three players, one overwatcher. I can make a simulation for you all if you've got something to jump in, we can practice it for a while. But there isn't anyway of knowing how trigger happy these guys are. Any one of them could just shoot the prisoner. I think there might even be poison gasses in there."
-
Silence weighted in the room as Carbonel set up the chip on Rolen's Household Display. Augmented images flowed the room but all focuses went on the USPTV. The silenced showed everyone was worried. The task suddenly got much more serious.
She nods at Carbonel's custom ARO. A simulation is a good idea but let's save that once everything else is in place.
It seemed to her the core of the run will rely on Carbonel's skills with the Matrix; and outside the fact she had no clue was really involved, she didn't like putting so much responsibility on the young rookiee.
We'll focus on the impossible task later. For now here is what I think we should do/get:
- Carbonel, I want all the dirt possible on those two security riggers. Where they live, their family, their schedule for the next two weeks, their habits and their friends, you got my point.
- Jag, We are going to need to be very mobile. It's a nice ride you have outside, but you can't play cab for the team, nor can we just depend on only one vehicle. I need you to procure us extra Wheels. Bikes or car, I don't care. Maybe a Pick-up if our cargo happen to be bigger than expected.
- Rolen. We're going to need a lay low once we get the target - and yes we will get him- Hiding in any one of our pad in not acceptable, way too risky. So we need a safehouse, somewhere we can access quickly once we make our escape and not bring any attention on us for a couple days.
I will try to gather info on the PCC team and that mysterious Shaman. Him and the Security Rigger are going to be our biggest Challenge.
She had yet to figure out a way to get to the prisoner, but she would do her part in the team to the best ability: lead them to success.
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The cat nods. "Not a problem, I'll start searching everything thing I can on it. Two weeks is plenty of time to find it all. Maybe we could even find something secret about that particular truck thing too."
With that, the cat sits down pulling a book out of his top hat, and opening it, as he starts reading.
Mean while the kid sits down, and begins to slump. A common thing for someone jumping into VR.
-
Two weeks? not a chance, you got two days.
The kid went slumped and Kachina turned to Jag and Rolen. She whispered: The kid doesn't even have a gun, can anyone of you do something about it? Speaking of, how are we doing with 'Ordnance'?
-
"Of course, Of course!" he remarks waving a paw. "Two days for as much data as I can uncover about the players, but we've still got twelve days after that too. Shouldn't ever stop looking for information. Though this is very hard already.."
-
Jag sighed. This task sounded fucking impossible. Unless the guards could be bought off or the vehicle's computer systems comprimised, this was gonna be a non-starter.
Look I've got some ordnance but its gonna be damn hard using it whilst I'm driving. Hopefully It won't come to that.
Whilst you're searching, see if you can find any schematics for the electronics of that class of vehicle. It might give us a weak point we can exploit.
As for other vehicles, I'll see what I can arrange. What funding do we have available or am I just calling in favours here?
-
Johnson gave us 50k already. I'd say 5k each will cover our rent and expenses for the coming month or so -though that kid seems to be living the life - the rest 30k could be use for getting us what we need and building the team's assets.
-
The cat perks up a little looking towards Kachina, "Of course, fastest matrix access after all, which is important for my work. Then there is security and the like I tend to find important too. Though, I do have enough to pay for my next month of rent, so I'll be using my funds there for some more sensor equipment probably. Nothing illegal though, but certainly could use some more cameras beyond the few I have with me."
-
In just about an hour Carbonel has all the publicly available info on the two security riggers - and then some.
The driver turns out to be a true corporate everyman. Henry Waltham, a human male, 34 years old. Full Corporate SIN. An ultimately intermediate record. Married with 2 kids (he would have 1.6 kids if that was possible, just to stay true to the statistics). Lives in Tacoma. Mortgage on the house, the car and his augmentations.
The defense systems operator is somewhat less grey. Markus Noble, a human male, 29 years old. UCAS SIN since 2065 (prior records lost). 8 months in Riot Control, 6 years in the Department of Street Patrol, then he was suddenly assigned to the Fast Response Team in 2071 and received some augmentations. When the Lone Star lost it's contract, he was moved to Department of Parole and Probation, but after some of his charges died under undisclosed circumstances, he was assigned rigger duty in 2074. Divorced in 2071, no kids. Lives in Auburn. Apparently, he has some serious chrome - not all of it rigger-related.
-
"Ugh this is impossible!" the cat grumps throwing the book he was reading across the room, said book disappearing into a cloud of data. Pulling a bag out he drops a large amount of books onto the table "Inni Mini miny moe!" Randomly he reaches in grabbing a book and opening it.. "Ahah! That always works!" he proudly states, tearing pages out of the book and pasting them in mid air so the others could read them.
"This is a problem. That rigger is trigger happy.. We're probally not going to be able to convince him anything.. But we might be able to do something.. First though, do Andriods dream of electric sheep?" he asks looking to the others.
-
Jag leafs through the pages of results, swiping a hand at each flickering AR window to palm it over to read the next one.
He pauses for a second, contemplating the two characters presented before him
Ah, see, now this is interesting. Both of these seem pretty vulnerable. I think ve can probably apply a little pressure to their weak spots and perhaps, perhaps, make them co-operate a little...
-
For more than an hour Kachina went through the different info on the Datachip. All the vehicles details were too technical for her, outside of knowing getting in won't be easy.
When Carbonel finally came up with info on the Riggers, she finally saw an opportunity to maybe be able to leverage some sort of cooperation on one of them. However she didn't share Jar's optimism regarding the Security Rigger:
Jag, how do you see our approach be with this Markus Noble? Looks to me like violent and trigger happy individual.
She ignored Carbonel question about androids and sheeps and continued with the planning.
I hope my contact will be able to get some info on the PCC crew. Shamans who work for private security compenies are not that numerous here in Seatte, I hope we can identify who he is exactly and see how to take care of him. I will go to my contact first thing tomorrow morning.
-
"Well, I'll begin working on the simulator, and what other methods of information I could look for. Give me a few moments, and I'll give you all a mini camera to help. If you all could place them in places you think we could get a good view, that will be a start I think. I could watch for the next few days. Lemme see if there is any public access cameras around that location.."
This time the cat opens up a photo album on his virtual shelf and begins thumbing through it.
-
Jag nods at Kachina, replying in his softly lilting indian accent.
And a fearsome opponent he would probably make. Violence and outward hatred usually come from some deep inner unhappiness. It sounds like his life is a mess.
Mysteriously discharged following death of those under his care, divorced. All signs of mental instability, perhaps PTSD from something in his service life. Perhaps he medicates? Perhaps this medication is legal, perhaps not? Perhaps we can find some shaming documentation on his abuses and use it for leverage? Perhaps we can alter his medication? Perhaps we can sabotage his cyberware?
{sitting back into the seat, he gestures with his left hand at the open AR terminal} I see opportunities here. For sure, he would make a strong combatant. So we do not fight him on his terms I think.
-
Kachina's face rejoiced and with a renewed faith in her teammates.
I like the way you think Jag. Tomorrow we'll start some surveillance of those two guys, gather more information on them to see where to strike.
-
The cat grinned a little, "Already starting surveillance on them. Tracking down every time they show up on traffic cameras and other open channels like that. I love cameras, they let me hear and see so much after all and they can be itty bitty little things." He began flipping through the camera views, saving what he could to data storage nearby. It'll take a while without some sort of facial recognition software.
After a few hours of flipping through it and doing what little he could without accessing his higher powers, as time to sleep began approaching.. "If we're staying here for the night I have some more work to do with a few of my tools..."
-
Perhaps you could also see what social feeds they create too, blogs, check-ins at shops and such? An idea of their regular movements and favourite haunts would be a good start.
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"You know..." Rolen spoke up. "I've had quite a bit of both explosives and mechanical training." He looked at the kid. "Could you get me some schematics of the vehicles they will be driving?"
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"Well if they're not included in the chip, I'll be happy to find them for you. After all that is most of what my job is, gathering intel and coordinating you all. " the cat gave a cheerful grin. "So.. I would need you all to be on the matrix when we do this."
-
Kachina passed her hand in Carbonel's hair and messed it up with an affectionate soft shake, ignoring his plea about Matrix connectivity.
We've done enough for tonight. Let's call it a day, sleep on it, and continue tomorrow. That will include finding us a safehouse where we can plot in peace.
I'll get a cab home unless, you want to give me a ride, Jag?
Kachina was looking forward to start the legwork and get things going with the finding more info on the Shaman. She knew that whatever good a plan, a Shaman could easily mess everything up.
-
yeah I can drop you off, where you need to go? Right, see you in the morning, what time shall we meet?
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"If you don't mind, I'll stay here and continue working on my parts of the plan that I can. "
-
Just home, Tacoma. Let's all get in touch tomorrow morning at 9am. You know what you have to do already. While Carbonel gathers more info, Jag you find us transportation, and Rolen a safehouse, where we'll be able to hide and plan in peace. Carbonel, I count on you to assist us all. I look for info on the Shaman. Gentlemen, good night.
Jag, thanks for the ride.
-
Jag waved good night to the others and headed outside, zipping his jacket up against the cool night air.
His breath hung in small clouds as he descended the small flight of steps down to street level as he led Kachina to the parked car.
The beautiful orange AR dashboard lit up as he slunk into the plush seat, the seat warmers instantly going to work as the demister cleared the windscreen.
It purred into life with a gesture and Jag keyed in the destination in the nav-map.
Where you want dropping off?
-
Kachina entered Jag's sport car. A comfortable and well maintained vehicle, she had no doubt Jag was fond of his car.
Quite a beautiful thing you have here. Ain't you worried our 'Run' may put a dent to it?
She pushed a couple keys on her Commlink to ping Jag the cross street she need to be dropped at. It was a long block away from where she actually resided but there was no need for more details just yet. Self-protection.
-
Its a lovely car, frankly I trust her more than i trust anyone else's machinery. I know how she handles, I know how she drives. I have trustworthy friends who can patch her up if she gets wounded.
I'd rather pilot her than any other machine if I knew we had to make a quick escape. Call me sentimental, but she is more than a car to me, especially when it comes to our little "Runs".She is my armour, my weapon and my steed all-in-one
The sat-nav chimed with the new address details and plotted them a route. They made small talk as they cut through the quieter back-streets, taking a shortcut here and there where Jag knew they existed.
It felt good, talking, being an equal, part of a team. It had been too long since Jag had worked alongside people he had a respect for.
The kid was cooky, but the limited work he'd seen him do showed he had great potential. Kachina had a good rep and their paths had crossed before. He had no doubt of her professionalism.
This was not going to be an easy job by any stretch, but in theory, it was doable. He mentally opened up an AR to-do list and compiled a short set of items to do in the morning whilst the lights took forever to come back round to green.
He pulled into a short-stay bay outside the corner shop at Kachina's junction and waved her goodnight.
Jag suspected she probably still had a bit of a walk home but didn't blame her. It was good opsec to keep distance between people and your home address, gave you time to check for tails too. Jag would do the same, taking a circuitous route back home to throw off or at least identify anyone who was a bit too interested.
His lights swept the underground parking bay as he descended the ramp, sending a stray cat scattering. The air was stale, that smell of not-quite-damp, not-quite-petrol that seemed to haunt all underground parking bays.
Retrieving his kit out of the boot, he slumped back in the lift bay and realised just how tired he was. Setting his alarm, he dropped the folding bed down into the middle of the room and set the audio stream to the familiar sounds of the jungle, drifting off into a restful sleep.