[inca1980]

Cast:
Combat Mage avatar of Zach - Sichr
Cybered Troll avatar of Storm - Thermo
Physical Adept avatar of Stake - Csjarrat

....Last  episode, from a console found on the top floor of Tacoma Veteran's Hospital,  the team jacked into a UV host which is called Project Bootcamp in search of the AI known as Requiem.  This heart-broken entity was secretly plotting to put out of business the profession known as shadowrunning but messed with the wrong runners.  They are now represented as generic avatars in this hyper-real environment and the stakes couldn't be higher......


You awaken to the loud smacking of water falling from a broken overhead storm drain.  Rain drops flick your face and you have no idea how or when you got there.  The cold wet gravel chills the side of your cheek so you sit up to get a better view of where you actually are and what the hell kinda place this might be.  A sprawl back alley lit by what must be miles and miles of tangled string lights weaved in and out between street polls, balconies and HVAC piping.   It could be the Redmond Barrens, the Aurora Warrens, hell it could even be Chiba City, save for all of the neon signs being in Spanish.  If you were a betting metahuman you'd put your money on Bogota.......and if indeed this is an über-realistic combat training simulator, it would make sense.

  You've taken in enough of your environment to the point where your mind drifts over to the company you're in.   A massive troll who's synth-leather combat jacket does a poor job of hiding his over-the-top 'ware, a human who's movements are a little too quick, his stance a little too trained and his clothes a little too loose and flowing to be anything but a martial artist and an elf who's arcane tattoos which line his face glow with an ancient meaning that only those who channel the craft of the occult can begin to understand.  The martial artist is the first to speak.

"Alright ladies, we're in.   I'm closely monitoring our brain-wave activity through my deck and so far so good.  I managed to hack the interface before we took the dive and grabbed pre-gen avatars for each of us....sorry if it's not what you wanted but it was better than waking up stark naked.  As we know very well from what happened with the marines, whatever shit happens to us in here translates to lethal bio-feedback back in our meat bodies.  This ain't like a normal host, no firewall, no programs, this is the real deal kiddos and all the decking skills in the world aren't gonna do a bit of good to change that fact.  Your abilities should work very akin to skillsofts and knowsofts, you'll just know instinctively what you know.  Now everyone be careful, Requiem could be anyone and could be anywhere and I don't know at all how capable he is of manipulating this environment.  We find him, destroy him and get the hell out and be done with this drek."

No-one other than you is present in the alley but you hear sounds of conversation and distant music coming from inside various establishments.  The closest ones looks to be a cantina of sorts and a small general store kiosk.

[Csjarrat]

Stake checked over his avatar, it wasn't half bad for a pre-gen. He drew his blade, marvelling at how well it had rendered, it practically sang as he cut the air with it. A couple of pistols rounded out his armament and he felt confident in his abilities. He flicked a couple of bits of stubborn grit from his cheek, dusted the worst of the crap off his jacket and took a look around, dialling up the avatar's enhancement tech to assist.
Turning to the others he spoke; anyone fancy a drink? nodding his head in the direction of the noise of the bar

[Thermo]

Storm sits up, her new massive bulk crunching against the gravel. Apparently the computer decided that her real personality fit better into the body of a massive troll. Suits her just fine. She stands, surprisingly fluidly, and quickly assumes the stance of an urban predator. She was big, even for a troll, and saw that she was covered in a layer of short fur. She was a minotaur, complete with horns and an elongated bull-like face. Her body was augmented by countless cybernetic enhancements. She had an innate sense that her cybernetic enhancements included a cyberarm, wired reflexes, aluminum bone lacing, reflex recorders, internally installed commlink, and cybereyes with a smartlink and vision enhancements. A small AR readout in her vision indicated a quick systems check was just completed and all systems were fully operational.

She also immediately knew that the handle sticking above her right shoulder belonged to an Ares Monosword, and that the items slung over her left shoulder included a grenade launcher and a full-size riot shield. Her primary weapons were a huge revolver in a shoulder holster loaded with AP ammo and an equally huge automatic pistol in a quickdraw holster on her hip loaded with EX-EX ammo. She caught a glimpse of herself in a window and saw that she was wearing a long armored duster with a wide-brimmed rancher hat. Her duster was of vaguely Japanese styling and was of extremely high quality. It glimmered slightly in the light, indicating that it was equipped with ruthenium fibers. The minotaur's eyes and forehead were protected by a matte black ballistic mask which was equipped with both ultrasound and vision enhancement.

She decided to assume the name of a Seattle urban street legend, Mean Boris.

[Sichr]

Zach was completely annoyed by this trip. He tried to avoid cyber contaminaton of his body and mind at any cost and now he is right here. Separated from his skills and instincts, even from his catlike nature. Angry he circled the "Character creation" menu, that allows him to personalize his avatar, and as he reads through the menu, his eyes cath the word Doom when trying to decide the principle behing his power.
Doom. That seems appropriate. Let`s lay waste on this digital battleground and finaly end this strange war, so the biz can flow once more. As his avatar rematerialiyes in the czberspace, he smiles for himself...
And than he would have to find Brick and have some milks on him.

As Chaz appeared in the simulation he wonders if he has everything he needt to get things done. Backpack full of explosives and grenades makes him comfortable somehow, same as the power circulating though his body and mind.

[inca1980]

The three of you nod at each other and walk over to the entrance of the cantina.  It's overhead neon sign flickers with the bad weather but the warmth beckons you to enter.  Inside it's only about 15m from wall to wall and on the far side from the entrance is an "L" shaped bar.  All the seats are taken by individuals who either have their AK-97's on their backs or resting against their stool.  The tables are almost all full save for one which a rather voluptuous young woman wiping down.  The man in the corner playing a beat-up old guitar and singing songs of "amor" and "la muerte" doesn't miss a beat as everyone turns their head to look at you very suspiciously.  The waitress seems to be the only one unperturbed by your entrances and as she finishes waves you over to sit down at the table.

@Stake:
As soon as you booted up into this world your sense of impending danger in the pit of your stomach has been going haywire.  You have been hot on his trail in the Matrix for a few days now and now you sense him instinctively and you're ready for anything.  Entering the cantina didn't make that feeling better or worse.

[Csjarrat]

Stake meets their glares one by one, taking his time as he walks the short distance to the table.
He opens his enhancement channels with a flicker of thought and dials them up to the max. If someone moved for their sidearm, he wanted to know.
Taking the nearest seat, he met the glare of one of the armed blokes at the bar, returning it as he straightened up his jacket, the sheath of his blade sitting uncomfortably against the smooth curved surface of the seat back.

int 4, perception 4, image enhance 1 (9d6.hits(5)=4) Visual perception
int 4, perception 4, audio enhance 2 (10d6.hits(5)=5) Audio Perception

[inca1980]

@Stake:
Your vision enhancements clearly outline two of the rebel soldiers huddling closer together over the bar to speak and your audio enhancements kick-in and amplify the conversation.   It's all in Spanish and the only word you understan is "sargento" which means "sargeant" in spanish. 

[Csjarrat]

"Sargento" Hmmm...
Their conversation piqued his interest. He couldn't really grab the gist of what they were saying but it sounded like it might be a lead.
Mentally tuning his select sound filter algorythm into their conversational frequencies, he set the filepath for the conversation to be recorded to and hoped one of the other guys could decode it back into a real language, ie one that stake could speak.

[Thermo]

Mean Boris scanned the room using his ultrasound visor, trying to see if anything looked out of place. His ears perked up as well, trying to hear over the din of the crowd.

He squatted down at the table, knowing that his utterly massive bulk would crush any chair in this place into kindling. His aluminum bone lacing put his weight at an even more massive total. They were lucky the floor didn't break underneath him.

He sent a mental message to him companions through his internally implanted commlink:

What now? This place is foreign to me, in more ways than one.

Mean Boris shifted his weight, making sure he could quickly swing his shield into place should violence erupt in the small cantina. He made sure everyone in the bar could see the giant revolver under his extremely expensive armored coat. He was NOT going for subtlety in a place like this.

[inca1980]

@Everyone:

Before you can even get comfortable sitting down your enhanced senses pick-up rapid movement from the bar as one of the insurgents whips around in his seat grabbing his AK-97.  The scowl on his face shows that he means business and he's out for blood!

Everyone first roll a surpise test Intuition + Reaction (3).  Take a +3 for being ready. 

[Thermo]

Surprise(3): Rea(7)+Int(5)+Ready(3) = 15 (15d6.hits(5)=8)

Initiative: Rea(7)+Int(5)+3d6 (3d6=10) Init: 22

Mean Boris feels the anger well up inside him. His AR screen fills with combat symbols and attack vectors. His companions immediately see a message flash across their screens in big red text:
MEAN BORIS NOT IN THE MOOD FOR LOW-LIFE SCUMBAGS!!!

[Csjarrat]

surprise test, 11+3. (15d6.hits(5)=6) actually five hits, rolled one too many dice

Fucking knew it the second we walked through the door...

[inca1980]

OOC: Surprise for militants: 10d6.hits(5)=1.  Surprise for Militant Lt. 14d6.hits(5)=7.  So first militants get 10 subtracted from init and have no defense until their turn. 
Init for militants:    1d6=3, score: 0.  Init for Militant Lt. 1d6=1. Score 12.  He is not surprised and the Lt. is the one that drew first.
I'll just roll init for stake to save a post:  13+ 4d6=14= 27

Both of you can act in the order that you're able to post.  Assume the bar with the militants sitting at it is about 10m away from your table which is roughly in the middle of the 25x25m cantina.
 

Given your cranked up, over-driven reflexes, the militants feel to you as if they're moving in slow motion.  They clearly do not expect your raw speed and are caught off guard.  Sichr's avatar suddenly freezes and glitches.  Something is happening to him and suddenly he vanishes from the virtual cantina.  To where is a mystery to you, but a mystery that will have to be resolved at a later date!  As soon as the other patrons at the tables see trouble, the brighter ones begin to hit the dirt.


IP1,CT1:  Stake-27, Boris-22, Lt.-12, M1-0,M2-0, M3-0, M4-0, M5-0, M6-0
Edge: Stake-3/3, Boris-5/5

[Thermo]

This doesn't look good. These mooks are too slow to draw their weapons in time to take a bead on us, but if we let them they'll quickly overwhelm us with numbers. And I doubt they care about collateral damage. Fortunately, NEITHER DO I!!!!

Mean Boris swings his ArmTech MGL-12 grenade launcher into position and immediately fires a high-explosive grenade into the midst of the insurgents, aiming directly in front of the Lieutenant. He uses his Direct Neural Interface to set the fragmentation mini-grenade to detonate at the minimum-safe distance of 10m, which happens to be the exact distance between him and his target. He knows that since they are only a few feet from the back wall of the bar, there's every chance the shockwave will bounce off and hit them again on its way past.

His AR displays swirl through menus until they lock into the "grenade shot" setting and he sees his vectors line up with the laser and radar targeting systems in his Smartlinked launcher. He keeps his wireless functionality off, as he's got a suspicion that this AI has the capability to wreck havoc with his systems (or make the grenade go off the moment it leaves the barrel).

TH-OOMPA

[simple action: ready weapon]
[simple action: fire semiautomatic shot]

Fire Grenade Launcher: Heavy Weapons(6)+Agi(5) [acc:6] (11d6.hits(5)=4)

[inca1980]

OOC: The Lt. is the only one who can act so he'll take a Hit the Dirt move interrupt, -5 to init. and he'll rush straight towards your table desperately avoiding the blast.  Now he's only about 5m away to the north of you.  Assume the entrance is through the eastern wall, the bar is on the western wall.   We'll say two of the insurgents have 16P+8P(chunky salsa) incoming, 2 of them have 14P+4P, and 2 of them have 12+2P incoming.  M1,M2 soak: Soak 16 + AP -2 = (14d6.hits(5)=7).  Take 17P.  M3,M4 soak: Soak 16 + AP -2 = (14d6.hits(5)=5).  Take 13P.  M5,M6 soak: Soak 16 + AP -2 = (14d6.hits(5)=5).  Take 9P. 
Lt. defends against Stake's SA burst: Def 11 + Running 2 + SA -2 = (11d6.hits(5)=2).  8P incoming, soaks: Soak (16d6.hits(5)=5).  Takes 3S.
Lt. Attacks Stake: Attack 12 + Running -2 = (10d6.hits(5)=1).

Roll defense Stake.  Now it's IP2, Stake and Boris act.
 

The barrel of Mean Boris's AmTech MGL-12 grenade launcher flares like a camp fire and your bullet-speed reflexes practically let you see the mini-grenade cruise on it's slightly curved trajectory towards the bar.  The Militants have hardly turned away from their drinks when impact happens.  For an instant all you see is smoke, fire, flying pieces of plywood and the 6 insurgents flying straight in your direction as the blow-back from the HE grenade propels them out of their chairs.  You can only imagine the fate of the bartender and several other patrons, but then again, they're just software, aren't they?  The bodies of the militants thump to the ground and only two of the armed men seemed to have had enough of a headstart pushing off the bar in order to not have their skulls completely crushed. 

Stake aim's slightly to the right and put's his smartlink sights on the trigger-happy ring-leader and unloads twice with his Fichetti.  His shoulder jerks for an instant as he runs and he reacts by opening fire with his AK-97.




IP2, CT1:  Stake-17, Boris-12, Lt.-0, M5-0, M6-0
Wound: M5{9P}, M6{9P}, Lt.{3P}
Edge: Stake-3/3, Boris 5/5