[DiscoDwarf]

Glad to see some of the tension being lifted and confident he must certainly be the unsung hero of the day, HB sits back into his seat with a fleeting smug grin over his face. When Jack's done with 15k credstick, he transfers the 2850 to his own personal "off-shore" account. Turning his attention to Mr. Smith, he nods his assent. The guy's so damn smooth, the young hobgoblin feels almost inadequate when he speaks up. "Well, if you chummers need some heavy muscles and unbreakable bones, ring me up, that kind of job is a lot more fun and certainly more rewarding than my old one" says the ex-merc.

Looking obliquely at Exile, he tries for a moment to understand why someone would agree to look so outlandish that it spooks everyone you meet and makes you so damn memorable for the corps and cops to catch up. Drek, must not be that many minotaurs with eyebands in Seattle. The thought is obvious on his face as he glances worriedly at his "partner", and for a moment he considers the implications. "No offence, omae, but unless you want to chance Jack not having completely rewritten the sec cam's feed - though I'm sure he did an awesome job of it - maybe you should lay low. To put it mildly, you stand out a lot." Coming from the Jewish Hobgoblin, the words are almost ironic, but he clearly means no offence, just stating the obvious. "Wouldn't mind working with you so much though, just not sure about being seen in public with you right after we're done with a job". Again, the attempt is weak, social skills are not his forté, but he does try to make it sound... nicer?

[Gaius]

There are probably two kinds of rigger. Those who believe their drones and vehicles are their companions and the only team they need, and those who consider there vehicles as usefully toys but nothing more.
Jenever is certainly one of the second kind. As a former sailor he knows the value of a good crew. That may misled him to agree to saints´s promising suggestion to fast. He should have thought of the etiquette you have to keep in mind when you deal with complete strangers in the shadows. But it doesn't look like this fault had permanent consequences on their relationship.

While thinking this he casually checks the AR pop up that shows the street in front of the bar filmed by the camera of his van which is parked away a little down the road. After the others took their share he takes the credstick and transfers his share on his shadow account.

“Here is my commcode.”, he says and sends them the commcode of his novatech airware commlink that is in active mode and displays a poor SIN that doesn´t even fit to a dwarf since it displays a male human.
“I'm new in town and could use some money so if there comes something up just let me know and I'm in.”

Turning to Jack,”Tempting idea, but I´m afraid that will have to wait. More urging to me at the moment is a fair stealth program to protect my network. Could you get something like that for a good price?”

[sway]

Since everyone in the room had apparently opted not to make a scene over a few hundred nyuen, Benny relaxed and collected his cut onto one of his spare creditsticks. Securely stuffing it away somewhere beneath his vest shortly thereafter. Turning to Jack, Benny relaxes into his native tongue, simply assuming a fellow Ork in Seattle would understand Or'zet.

[spoiler=Or'zet Speech]"If you've got any references as to the quality of you or your people's SIN-work, I might be interested. I had to turn down a Denver job a couple of weeks back because I couldn't get ahold of a decent local cover. The files I got from this two-bit hack out in Redmond damn near got me killed. Biometrics were all wrong. That weaselly little punk has a date with an incinerator. As for your troll-killer, the Scorchers run the guns down below. I know a girl who might be able to hook you up, though she's a bit... eccentric. I'll ask about her crew's current inventory the next time I see her. If the Scorchers don't have it in stock, I could also ask my fixer, but there is always an extra fee when he has run stuff down. He's realy more of a broker than a goofer."[/spoiler]

Glancing over at HB and some of the others, Benny shrugged, "Naught much fer parteeing. But I'm not up'hosed ta stopping by da Rhino fer lunch".

[Necrogigas]

Reed gave a short nod of acknowledgement to Jack's reassurances. He raised an eyebrow at HB's comment, "Bit of advice, phrases like 'No offense, but' or 'Don't take this the wrong way' have a zero percent chance of success." He turned to Exile, "While it could have been stated in a more eloquent manner, Mr. HB does have a point Mr. Exile. Your visual distinctiveness is highly recognizable and may prove to be a liability, to you, as well as to us." He pulled out his dummy commlink, saved the others' contact info, and then sent his commcode to the others, "Well here's my number, feel free to contact me anytime for business." He briefly made eye contact with everyone, "Well I believe that is everything gentlemen, may our future ventures be prosperous."

With that said, Reed made his exit nodding and smiling to each man as he left. In the hallway he placed his nonprescription glasses on, the club's AR overlay appeared before him. He sent a text to Norman Keyes, <<AR:Norman Keyes:Text:: This experience has been...interesting. We've decided to continue our business partnership, if informally for the time being, so please keep us in mind for future work. I'd also like to contract the compilation of dossiers on my new associates. If you can find any interested parties, you know how to reach me. - Reed>>" He then connected to the club's node and zeroed out his tab before exiting the building. He headed for his car, a dark blue Honda Spirit, yet another visual reminder of his fall in socioeconomic status. He got in and just sat there for a moment.

He allowed a bit of his composure to drop, and started to noticeably shake. On an intellectual level, he knew that shadowruns would involve being shot at, but that in no way prepared him for when it happened. When that guard shot at him, Reed thought he was dead. Luckily the bullet when wide by a few inches, well it was luck for him at least, HB's the one that took the round. At least his armor did its job, Reed doubted he'd have been able to hold it together if he'd watched the guy next to him get shot. "I think I've gotten in over my head. I don't know if I can be Mr. Smith, but what other options do I have?"

He popped open the glove box and pulled his Colt Manhunter, concealable holster and all, out from the small of his back and tossed it in. He also pulled out of the compartment a small baggie of novacoke. He quickly set up and snorted a line on the center console. He let the high wash over him, calming his nerves and placating his doubts. He took a deep breath before placing the coke back in the glove box. He then drove away.

[WhackedMaki]

Seeing as everything seems to be finishing up, and the general attitude about his look, Exile stands up. "Whatever. You know where to reach me."  He grabs one last beer, pays for his drinks, and leaves.

He gets a few stares leaving the bar, but he's used to this. He walks off towards the shopping distract, quickly being swallowed by the night. I'll stop by and see if Giovanni has any work for me. This 2k won't last me long.

[Ethan]

Saint stands up and smiles awkwardly at everyone as he rearranges his lined coat with a shrug. He leaves without a word, patting himself down to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything. Gun, money, stuff... The FN 5-7C still sat solidly in its concealed holster hidden at the small of his back, and his various electronics were all stored in his pockets.

He makes his way to his safehouse, summoning a Spirit to keep him Concealed physically and astrally. He asks it to watch over him till dawn.

The bed is lumpy but clean, and he doses off after setting the commlink alarm at daybreak in a few short hours. Suddenly, he straightens up then crawls to the side of his bed.

On his knees, he begins to pray."Yesterday, I helped hurt people. For money. I know it's not how You want me using my Gift, but I don't know what else I can do. You know that already. Today, this week, I'll plan to do the same thing. I... he trails off, staying silent.

He's still on his knees, awake, as the Spirit of Man bids him goodbye as the sun rises.

[DireRadiant]

Saint - Seattle <<2072.10.02 13:22:43>>

It's Sunday.

<<AR:Amy Trinkets:Text|Voice:Distribution=Bounty List:: Check out this report from Lake Steven's. attachments. No one else will give you 2,000 nuyen per whole paranormal animal. Remember I will need to be able to run your Settle Metro Paranormal Hunter license through my license checking system.>>

The attachments consist of Knight Errant property damage reports and resolved insurance claims on various pieces of property in the vicinity of Lundeen Park on the North shore of Lake Stevens. There is also one personal injury claim from Matilda Clemens of 3000 Sandy Beach road.

[DireRadiant]

Mr. Smith - Seattle <<2072.10.01 02:04:56>>

<<AR:2Fresh:Audio only:: I need you.... shit... you know the place near Grass Lawn. L.. Li.. Linda's place. Can you come right now!?>>

2Fresh does not sound very composed at all. However the name Linda and the place near Grass Lawn do remind you of an address you've sent someone to. Someone in your old life for whom Linda would have sweetened the deal.

[Ethan]

Saint - Seattle <<2072.10.02 13:20:11>>

The church was not as full as it should be. Even in the Matrix, viewing the sermon remotely, he could feel the empty seats. It was the story in every church in the Sixth World, though younger churches embraced the matrix wholly and established virtual places of worship that actually had growing congregations.

He tithed two-hundred and five nuyen, transferring it under his Fake SIN as "Rupert Griffin". Instantly, he got a newsletter and several messages about worthy causes.

The AR goggles were already off when Amy's own newsletter came. He was stretching on his couch, in his apartment, and thought twice about reading the message. "Paranormal critters." Saint stifled a laugh, "At least I won't be shooting people. 'Ask, and you shall receive'..."

I hope 'Seek, and you will find' comes true too... Silently, Saint glances up then stretches for his commlink.

<<AR:Search:Map::Lake Stevens, 3000 Sandy Beach Road.>>

Saint stifles a sigh and looks around for a fresh set of clothes.

I'd better call the crew in once I confirm this is legit. Meanwhile, he reads through the attachments to see if anything seems familiar.

[DireRadiant]

Armadillo Bar - Seattle <<2072.10.01 22:31:01>>

Saturday Night, and early. When the 405 Hounds had rode in on their speed machines things had gone a bit tense, but settled after the first two rounds of soybeer. Then it all went to hell. Almost all the Armadollos had been jacked in. When the area jammer exploded into action, followed by a power spike and crash, it hurt. It took about two minutes for the 405 to clear out of sight. It was another ten minutes before soemone figured out what had started all the screaming and threats.

Rozalie cleared her throat, she wasn't used to actually using it that much, "I just verified the access logs, and , well, the 405 Hounds are right to be angry. Carson was halfway through backdooring a couple of their machines when their overwatch jumped in and knocked him out of the system." She started crying, "Now they are going to come back and kill us all and burn the place down!"

Rozalie looks around at the gathered Armadillos, "What are we going to do?"

<<AR|VR:Armadillo VPN:The entire scene from Rozalies simcorder is transmitted through the VPN>>

[Necrogigas]

Mr. Smith's Home (Renton) - Seattle <<2072.10.01 02:05:00>>

Reed was asleep at home, a condominium in Renton, when he got 2Fresh's call. He stared at his caller ID with disdain, Who the hell is calling me at 2 in the damn morning? 2Fresh? What the drek could that bit of human refuse want from me? He signed as he took the call. Reed didn't like the sound in 2Fresh's voice, something very bad must have happened to shake the pimp's composure.

<<AR:2Fresh:Audio only:: Calm down, Mr. Jones. What is the problem?>>

While carrying on with the conversation, Reed dressed in his black Synergist business suit. It would probably better to go with the low key lined coat, but Reed wasn't willing to be dressed so lowly in front of street trash like 2Fresh. After putting on his long coat, he placed his hold out, a Morrissey Èlan, in the integrated concealable holster, and placed his Manhunter in the small of his back.

[bmoham]

Armadillo Bar - Seattle <<Saturday 2072.10.01 22:31:01 -23:00 >>

When the go-gang first shows up, Jack comes down from his room to make sure the Armadillo doesn’t look like an easy target. He recognizes the gang and knows their rep, but is optimistic that they’re just looking for some drinks.
[intuition 4 +knowledge street gangs 4] 3 hits – I think. No clue what that gets me about the gang.
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3682384/

When things go to hell Jack isn’t in VR. He’s unphased by the chaos, but has no way of knowing what went wrong. Maybe one of the students was trying something stupid? Maybe the server crashed on it own? He doesn't know. He follows Rozalie’s directions and sees to closing the bar for the evening as she reviews the logs.

 He can tell she’s nervous, but doesn’t want to overstep his bounds. It’s not his bar. He just helps out sometimes. It isn’t until her composure breaks that he realizes just how in over her head Rozalie – and most of the other Armadillo’s - feel. “Don’t worry Rozalie, I’ll take care of it.”
Turning to the rest of the group he just barely stops himself from barking orders like a drill seargent or the leader of some crappy go-gang.  Intimidation is not the way to get these  people, my friends, to do what’s needed.
Instead Jack gives his empathy software a few seconds to size up the group and then starts giving direction firmly and confidently, but not aggressively.
[ Charisma 2 leadership -1 (defaulting) Empathy software 6 local fame 2, probably plus group loyalty 4, but I didn’t include it] 2 hits – if I’m reading it right. Which is what I’d get if I bought hits without loyalty. I’d be able to buy 3 with a bonus from group contact loyalty.
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3682363/

“Someone get me a file on Carlson. Is he one of ours? And can we confirm one of the 405s set off the jammer and caused the crash?  I need it in 30 minutes. Send the request out over our network if you need to. I’ll handle the rest.”

Jack stands by the front door, hoping his presence will act as an anchor to help the others focus on their tasks. He’s not sure what else to do.
 Ok, now how am I going to ‘handle the rest’? The 405s know most of the Armadillos have no teeth – so threats wouldn’t get me very far with them. I could start picking them off alone, but there’s no way to make sure they come after me and not Rozalie or one of the others. Maybe that new crew can help. I’ve got some nuyen I can throw their way. And if I spoof them some entertainment or maybe score some pirated software that should sweeten the pot.

 <<private key encrypted text message from Jack (he would have given an encryption key with his comm code): I’ve got some security work on the hook. 700 nuyen up front. Bonuses and benefits expected. Meet me tomorrow at the Armadillo bar for details. Around noon, if possible.>>

Jack reviews what he knows about the 405s and tries to formulate a plan while he waits for the file on Carlson and confirmation of what, or who caused the crash. He’s no slouch at datasearch, but with the entire crew looking he doubts one more person would matter.
They made Rozalie cry. I don’t care what justification they have. They’re going to pay for that. They have a problem, they tell us. We handle it. Word can’t get out that anything goes around here. Then someone really will burn the place down And then I’ll have to kill someone.

Once he collects his thoughts on who the 405s are, gets confirmation on what caused the crash and who Carlson is, Jack contacts Mr. Smith.

<<2072.10.01  23:00:00 Request for secure VR conference from Jack [if you accept then this is a conversation, otherwise it’s a message]: Hey, uh, Smith. Do you really want me to call you that? I mean if I wanted to track your identity I could. It’s not that hard. But, yeah. Whatever. Smith. I know security work isn’t generally your things, but I think we have some, uh, negotiating to do too. I figure that’s right down your alley. And they might want, like, a neutral third party and you can do that. Jack then explains the entire situation.>>

[DireRadiant]

Mr. Smith - Seattle <<2072.10.01 02:05:12>>

<<AR:2Fresh:Audio only:: It's a mess... look, look, right, you know people right? I need help. But you need to come see. I can give you 2 small if... if you can come over and see my problem?>>

[Necrogigas]

Mr. Smith's Home (Renton) - Seattle <<2072.10.01 02:05:15>>

Reed frowned at being woken up at two in the morning for only 200¥. He damn near hung up on the pimp, but ever the professional Reed merely took a breath and started doing what he did best.

<<AR:2Fresh:Audio only:: It's very late Mr. Jones and this sounds serious, make it 1,000¥. And you'd had better not make such a weak offer to my business associates if I bring them on board.>>

[spoiler=Negotiation Roll]
Cha 7 + Negotiation(Bargaining) 10 = 17 pool, 11 hits
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3682646/
[/spoiler]



Mr. Smith's Home (Renton) - Seattle <<2072.10.01  23:00:00>>
Reed pulled out his dummy commlink, slightly annoyed. He was just about to go to bed, the thing with 2Fresh had left him a bit sleep deprived. He glanced over the text from Jack and deleted it, I'm guessing "security work" is code for "bullet shield", no thank you. He tossed the commlink onto his nightstand and then crashed out, a half hour later the comm started ringing. Reed opened his eyes and yelled out in fustration, "God fucking damn it!" He took a deep breath and picked up his comm. At the request for a VR conference, Reed connected his commlink to the datajack at the base of his skull, and dived into VR.

Reed's icon is a featureless mannequin in a black three piece suit with grey pinstripe. He nodded to Jack, "Good evening Mr. Jack." Reed frowned a bit at how casual Jack was about possibly violating his privacy, but held his tongue, "I believe for the time being it would be best if we continue to use our aliases." He quietly listened to Jack explain his situation, "I am willing to facilitate the cessation of hostilities to your people, I will meet you tomorrow. Your earlier text indicated noon, correct?."

When he was done with the conversation, Reed disconnected and went to bed, shutting off his commlink so that no one else could call him.

[DireRadiant]

Mr. Smith - Seattle <<2072.10.01 02:05:28>>

<<AR:2Fresh:Audio only:: .... ok <<1,000 account transfer>> just get here.>>