@Team:I agree that they might look for help from others, well IMO they are sitting ducks right now, and if they piss off Fronts, nobody would give them a hand, because nobody will be willing to take consequences...making themselves Fronts and possibly some syndicate an enemy. There is no honor, only a survival in this game.
When Omar assess replies of his teammates, he realizes once more that reallity here in Denver is something absolutely different from what he was living in a few weeks back. People here talking about humanity, conscience, responsibility...even good sleeping...Omar recalls burning vilages in Niger, napalm attacks, civilians caught in the firefight, torn up to piesces in minefields, families burnt to death in their houses, cry of raped women. Savage spirits run free, destroying and crushing everything that came their way, hum of firethrowers burning the jungle and its inhabitants...even his own family served by his very own evil twin brother as a dinner for ghoul shaman, in trade for knowledge and Power.
Yes. Omar saw it all, and if there is at least one little piece of metahumanity inside of him, it cries in despair in deepest hidden place of his almost burnt out soul. He almost don`t fell like a metahuman any more...he preferes to merge with the machine, leaving his meat behind, putting neuroware gap between perceiving himself and chemistry of his personality.
Mouses appeal on Ryker almost catched him unprepared...The boy is far away from this hell. He may once become even good...not the good mercenary...well maybe a good man...
Mouse sitting in the van heard Unca Omar intakes really deeply, gulping a few times as if drowning...and since there was nothing on the scan, he quickly checks out if there is any trouble. He managed to catch a glimpse of previosly unseen emotions on Omars face...pain, sorrow and reggrets so deep...well a second later they were gone...only a message in VR remains:
@Mouse: Good boy. If only Had I such a choice...