Shadowrun
Shadowrun Play => Play-by-Post => Topic started by: Tecumseh on <11-19-14/0245:59>
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Registering no objections, Ohanzee approaches the crate. He's small for a dwarf - about as small as a dwarf can be, really - but what he lacks in brawn he makes up for with personality and flamboyant funeral rites.
Ohanzee is a halfer somewhere in the neighborhood of 1.25 meters, more if he's levitating. The crate is about a meter tall, meaning that it comes up to his chin. The crate itself is in bad condition: cracked and splintered, presumably from the crash. Ohanzee stabs the crowbar in a horizontal gap near the top and pries it open wider, only to find that it moves without resistance. He looks closer and sees a hinge for the lid of the crate. The crate doesn't have a latch to keep the lid shut; Ohanzee sees a couple nails (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4722771/) were used to quickly seal the lid, but he also notices that they're already bent and loose.
Flinging the lid open, he stands on his tiptoes in order to see all the way down to the bottom of the crate. Katsina stands behind him, looking over his shoulder. The obelisk is almost as large as the crate itself, with a large octagonal base and a thinner, flatter tablet on top. The entire thing appears to be metallic in nature, although the base and the tablet are distinctly different. Ohanzee recognizes the tablet as hepatizon, which he knows to be an alloy of orichalcum and cerrukite. The tablet is covered in unintelligible script, divided into dozens of different parts.
The Dwarf and the Masked Woman assense the object. It is most certainly dual-natured, and thrums with ancient power. It's almost blinding on the astral, and Katsina has to look away before long. The shape, the materials, the inscrutable inscriptions... none of it suggests that this was a recent creation.
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The Masked Woman
"If we survive, the good news is that we're probably rich. The base is made up of large amounts of gold, iron, copper, mercury, silver, platinum, osmium and silicon. I'm no metallurgist but If it's heavy enough that Sam and Chino were struggling with it, then the value of the materials alone is likely a million plus. I don't think the insurers are just going to cut a check for this one though. The fact that we've got strike teams tailing us suggest that this is more than some C-suite trophy."
She moves away from the obelisk, sliding her back down the wall of the van to a seated position. She looks away from it, as if the sight of it is giving her a headache.
"When we first woke up, I noticed a strange tinge on our auras. It was subtle; I could only see it when I was specifically looking for things out of the ordinary. It was a signature of some kind, rapidly fading, that I had never seen before. Something definitely happened to all of us that affected our auras. Now that the crate is open, I can tell that it was from the obelisk."
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Crumpled looks over the oblisk in the box, capturing images with his cybereyes. With the flick of an AR widget he sends the images to his Agent and has it do a Matrix Search for more information on it. He then goes about the process of adding all of the electronics around to his PAN and making sure they are all secured behind his firewall and running silent.
With this being the first time he's had to put any attention towards his old deck, he starts to dig into it to see if there's anything recoverable from it.
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Chino felt nothing as he watched APB's body burn. He didn't really get to know her since the accident. He did have a sinking feeling as he realized; there were only 5 people left he could trust now. He had known it before, but it somehow seemed more ... final now. He focused on drvinig. Keeping his eye on the road, he listened to Katsina's description of the artifact. It seemed rather unimportant; they had more pressing matters to worry about. The least of which were the constant strike teams that were likely in pursuit. As the others were musing about the thing in the crate, he asked, "Still headed to Aspen?"
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Sam is opting for quiet through the ride. He's not terribly impressed with the revealing of the artifact, as seeing it doesn't help their situation at all. He just leans his horned head back against the wall of the Rover, feeling the cold arctic air slip through the bulletholes as it rattles and bounces over the mountain road.
"Still headed to Aspen?"
"Mmmmm hmmmm."
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Looking up from his ruined deck Crumpled says, "Aspen seems like the best bet to me."
With a quick glance at the troll leaning against the window, he quickly gets back to work on the drek he has in front of him.
<<<@UncleSam [Crumpled] Would you mind forwarding all of the previous info you had about me to me? Commlink code, contact info, pictures. You seem to have the most collected data on each of us.>>>
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Ohanzee stared at the Artifact without his astral sight for a few moments, considering its meaning. Obviously valuable, obviously ancient. Such a thing was rarely encountered in the sixth world, and he felt he should be more in awe, but the pressures of the situation drained all such feelings from him. Was it an asset or a liability? Was it both?
A jarring of the cabin as the rover hit a patch of ice caused Ohanzee's adrenaline to spike as he fought to steady himself. He needn't have bothered as the movement was minor, but the shot of adrenaline was enough to break him out of his reverie. He sat down heavily and focused on where he and his new chummers were headed. By rough estimate, they would be in Aspen in less than 15 minutes. They would need to ditch their ride, and get some lodging for the night.
Ohanzee turned his attention to his commlink and started looking into options for laying low for a few days. After a minute or so of fruitless searches, he gave up in frustration.
We need a place to stay, preferably one where we can pay cash and not invite a lot of questions. Any ideas? Maybe one of you might have better luck finding something useful with these drekking things. He indicated his phone in agitation.
And, ideally, without exposing our faces to anyone, including lobby cameras. Disguises would be useful.
He didn't wait for a response. The artifact proved that they were at least semi-competent. The team didn't need babysitting, and they could be trusted to operate without having things spelled out in excruciating detail. It would get done. He idly flipped through the matrix, checking out the local scene in Aspen. Legal business was handled during the day, but the business they needed to attend could be done 24 hours a day. Dive bars, night clubs, anything that operated after the sun went down held promise. A good medic that had night-time office hours could, literally, be a life saver.
As he searched, he kept finding himself digging through the contents of the commlink, searching for clues as to his past. Soon, the original search was abandoned and his whole focus was on the contents of his commlink. Before he realized it, the SUV was slowing to a stop on the outskirts of Aspen.
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@UncleSam From:Crumpled
>>> Would you mind forwarding all of the previous info you had about me to me? Commlink code, contact info, pictures. You seem to have the most collected data on each of us.
Noticing a slight color change in the lens of his goggles, Sam slips them back down over his eyes to see what's up. After reading the message, he sends a few mental commands through his trodes.
<< Copy File/s: All files present
<< Rename Copy: TheWholeShebang
<< Send File/s: Ohanze, Crumpliah, Chino
<< FileName: TheWholeShebang
After sending off the entire contents of his commlink to who he believes are his team mates, he pulls the goggles down around his muscular neck, powers them off all the way along with all the rest of his gear, then leans his head back against the rolled up thermal hood of his armorjack and uses the rocking of the vehicle and the cold breeze through the bulletholes to sooth him to sleep, perhaps remembering the sensation of something from long ago...
Not long before the shooting starts again, i fear.
We need a place to stay, preferably one where we can pay cash and not invite a lot of questions. Any ideas? Maybe one of you might have better luck finding something useful with these drekking things. He indicated his phone in agitation.
Indeed, we do, dwarf friend. Indeed we do. are the last words that go through his head before he's out cold.
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The Rover moves heavily along Highway 82. The extra weight of the obelisk is terrible for fuel economy but does help the vehicle keep traction on the wintry roads. Chino managed to stop the fuel leak but is still painfully aware that the fuel gauge is getting close to E; there's a light on the dashboard that's blinking anxiously to indicate the same.
Katsina pulls out a throwing knife and begins inscribing it to pass the time. Her drawings are tight and display a degree of fine motor skills. Five minutes later, she leans back and twists the knife between her gloved fingers, admiring the alchemical preparation. [Katsina realizes that she has Artisan 2.] She pockets in then debates the merits of working on another. She takes a deep breath, removes another knife, then begins working again.
The Crumpled Man sits with what's left of his Renraku Tsurugi on his lap. It's in pieces and obviously in bad shape. He squints; it's dark in the Rover and his human eyes don't have any low-light capabilities. He finds himself wishing for vision magnification too, while he's at it, but he'll work with what he has. What he has is a cyberdeck with a terminal case of lead poisoning. It's clearly non-functional, a verdict which is silently ratified by the fact that his previous self decided to take possession of someone else's deck to replace it.
The data-recovery effort is noble but ultimately doomed. In the end, all he can salvage from the mess are a few garbled clips of sound and video. The recordings sound like gunfire - perhaps a shotgun? - interspersed with maniacal laughter. There's another of a man swearing about an unlucky break, followed by more shotgun blasts. It's not at all clear whether these are recordings of real-life or the remnants of some epic trid collection that Crumpled used to have.
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As you approach town, you pass by a couple campgrounds. First there's Weller Campground, then Difficult Campground. Chino slows as you pass. All scouting - astral, Matrix, thermographic - indicates that they are completely empty. Ohanzee finds an online reservation system that indicates that the campgrounds are closed for the season and won't reopen until late May. For now, all you see are dark trees tall snow drifts. It's serene enough to put Sam to sleep.
The lodging prospects for the town are mixed. Ohanzee, in his search, finds that Aspen is the most expensive place in the Pueblo Corporate Council to purchase real-estate due to its popularity with the wealthy and famous. The town is riddled with second homes and has the lowest owner-occupied rates in the PCC. This trickles down to the market for hotels and motels. There are a couple discount options but even those are pricey (nothing less than ¥150/night) and none of them show any availability for tonight. There are a smattering of rooms available at mid-range establishments; they cost ¥250/night (or more) for double-occupancy and almost certainly will require a real SIN or a decent fake.
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Finding no suitable lodging, and having his discovery confirmed by the others in the cabin, Ohanzee curses internally. Of course, if he had really thought about it, hauling a large magical artifact around a hotel would be highly conspicuous, assuming the crate even continued to hold itself together. No, it was time to let his criminal instincts take the helm.
Plan B it is. We need to find a relatively secluded private residence that is unoccupied. There's got to be some exec that isn't vacationing at his Aspen residence this week. Let's help them ensure their investment isn't sitting idle.
He was aware that he was relying heavily on The Crumpled Man, and he was about to lean a little more.
@Crumpled: We need to ditch the vehicle. Once you find a place to for us to stay and we get close enough to hoof it there, you'll need to have this thing drive itself somewhere it won't be found for a while. If it can do so fiery-like, all the better. We don't have the time to properly scrub it for evidence.
As the lights of the city, such as they were at this hour, grew closer, Ohanzee turned his attention from his commlink to their surroundings. A confrontation this close to a populated area could be problematic, so it was best to make one last look around to make sure they weren't being followed. Shifting to his astral perception, Ohanzee did a final sweep before the struggling vehicle entered the city limits.
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"I think I've been to Aspen at least a few times. I seem to recall there are some houses that may work for our purposes up either Stillwater or Lupine coming up. Wonder if I've broken into any of them before? Anyway, I vote we take the first one and get off the road before we run out of gas."
Crumpled sends the locations to Chino and the team via ARO with the areas that are likely to have houses we could break into.
"This feels very out of charachter for me to be so free with information. But it seems to be getting positive results. Lets see if being less of a psychopath works out for a bit."
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Katsina visibly brightens at the mention of finding a private residence. Or did she just finish her preparation at that exact moment? She tends to glow when she casts, like the flare of light from a matchhead when it is struck. The glow dies down and she pockets her preparation with a degree of pride. She tucks the throwing knife away and then rises to a crouch to scan the surroundings.
"I'm with Ohanzee and Doc," she says, using the nickname she had tentatively given the Crumpled Man due to his skill with a medkit. "Squatting is free and if we do it right nobody will notice. We can park this thing in a garage if there's not enough fuel to get rid of it, or we can pinch some petrol to top it off."
She looks at Sam but he's drifted off. She looks to Ace to get his opinion, giving him a small nod of encouragement to go along with the plan.
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Chino listens to everyone planning, and he speaks up, "Wherever we're going, we have five minutes, maybe less, until we're outta gas. Going to have to take the first place we find unless we want to walk."
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Ace has been staring out the window, trying to gauge the snowstorm and thinking about the obelisk. This was well outside the limits of his expertise. He's been mulling over a lot of concepts that don't really make sense to him, but it's all so far beyond what he can logically reason his way into. He understands "auras" as a concept, even knows that his is compromised by the chrome and augmentations, but that's so strange. It's not like he feels less human, or at least less humane. He's certainly not less capable of love or of friendship -- at least, he doesn't think so -- nor is he under the impression that the people in this van who are un-augmented are less capable of inhumane actions, but Ahh, whatever.
He feels a pair of eyes on him -- and how does he sense that if he's mostly machine -- and turns to see Katsina looking at him. It takes a second to process the conversation that's been going on around him, and embarrassed, he makes her repeat herself. Once Katsina does, Ace says, "Yeah, yeah. Let's find an empty vacation home and set up for the night. I think we could all use some creature comforts."
Going back to the obelisk, Ace adds, "So, I don't speak mage talk, or whatever, but is whatever is going on with that thing the reason our memories are all fragged?" He has a feeling that this is a dumb question, but when it's every memory of his that he's ever had, Ace would rather know and be thought a fool than risk the alternative.
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"-outta gas. Going to have to take the first place we find unless we want to walk."
In an instant, Sam is awake and alert. Somehow, his sleeping brain had made good and damn sure to keep him appraised of important developments, and those two words, "Outta" and "Gas" had registered on the scale. He inhales to speak, about to suggest they just take some corps vacation home who aint usin it when Ace asks the Mask to repeat herself and she spits out that same exact idea. He exhales and closes his eyes again. Five more minutes is better than none... he thinks as he starts to drift off.
As he fades out again, he is aware of the words,
"So, I don't speak mage talk, or whatever, but is whatever is going on with that thing the reason our memories are all fragged?"
"Probably." he grumbles as he adjusts his seating, trying to get comfortable.
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We might be better off ditching the car sooner than later. We're under a spirit veil that should make us difficult to spot, the vehicle - not so much. The sooner we disassociate ourselves from it, the better. My main concern is street surveillance, so if we can get that under control - Ohanzee nods toward Crumpled - we can scout places more or less at leisure. I'm thinking we disembark on the main street about 100m from the street corner, unless there are too many people around, and go from there.
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"Feels more like you're the boss for now Ohanzee, so I'll defer to you. That said, my suggestion is to check out some of these bigger houses out in the 'burbs rather than heading downtown. We will stick out like a sore thumb walking the streets, where as we could get the van into a garage and out of sight out here. Your call sir."
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Definitely outskirts. The rover is going to take a long drive off a short cliff. Relatives of the owners - or the owners if it was a company vehicle - will come looking for it soon enough. It needs to be clean and nowhere near us when that happens. It doesn't have enough fuel to get it far, so discreetly off the road would be ideal, but discreet is out because we need to burn it to make sure there is no blood or DNA. Forensic teams could do miracles with those, magicians could do even worse. Considering the amount of fuel it has, downtown would be too far for it to get back out of town for its swan dive, even if it wasn't a bad idea for the reasons you mentioned.
So, first thing, make sure external surveillance in the neighborhood is taken care of so we can't be tracked easily. Second, crack the car so you can command it to commit suicide. Lastly, find a house for us to crash in. That can be done while Sam rigs the car to go boom, or while we walk if need be.
Ohanzee hoped his instructions weren't too specific. Professionals hated being treated like children, and nothing upset one more than telling them how to do their job. But he hoped it was forgivable - everyone was a little out of sorts, so things might beed to be spelled out a little more clearly than usual.
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Definitely outskirts. The rover is going to take a long drive off a short cliff. Relatives of the owners - or the owners if it was a company vehicle - will come looking for it soon enough. It needs to be clean and nowhere near us when that happens. It doesn't have enough fuel to get it far, so discreetly off the road would be ideal, but discreet is out because we need to burn it to make sure there is no blood or DNA. Forensic teams could do miracles with those, magicians could do even worse. Considering the amount of fuel it has, downtown would be too far for it to get back out of town for its swan dive, even if it wasn't a bad idea for the reasons you mentioned.
So, first thing, make sure external surveillance in the neighborhood is taken care of so we can't be tracked easily. Second, crack the car so you can command it to commit suicide. Lastly, find a house for us to crash in. That can be done while Sam rigs the car to go boom, or while we walk if need be.
Maybe it's hearing his name, or maybe it's the familiar, "Ok, here goes..." tone in the dwarf's voice, but something had woken him up again and forced the massive borgbeast to pay attention. With a throat full of sleep and mountain blown cold, he responds, "Gotcha, Big O." Then, after sitting up, rubbing his eyes, and getting his gear and goggles situated again, begins running though some test patterns on the best way to blow up a rover, occasionally grumbling, "Hmmm? Rrrrr."
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@Ace
Katsina nods to Ace in response to his question. "Yeah, I think the artifact is the culprit. Our talents and our expertise are coming back to us slowly, so maybe the effects are temporary, or reversible."
She pauses, her thoughts wandering toward epistemology and the nature of consciousness. It's entirely possible that they are completely different people than they were before - for all she knows, her talents could be as new as her personality - but that's a metaphysical can of worms that she's not ready to dig into yet. She glances at the crate again before Ohanzee seals it the best he can. The value of an ancient amnesia device seems questionable, both in terms of ritual use and practical applications, but it is clear that some people want it very badly.
She nods to Ohanzee's plan, signalling her agreement and her readiness to contribute.
@Van
"It's Friday morning. We should keep in mind that while a place might be vacant now, it could be occupied by this evening. It's ski season and one would think that the owners use their chalets on the weekends."
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The Doc pulls a length of fiber optic cable from one of his pockets and plugs one end into the car, and the other into his wrist.
"I'll get this started while we find a pull off. Chino, I'm gonna steal your ears, and Sam your eyeballs. You'll get messages from me via text."
As he sinks into the comforting embrace of VR his body goes limp, and his mind relaxes as his consiousness expands. The van glows as a data point directly infront of him, and he worms his way in, tossing mark after mark on it as he's in no hurry. A simple gesture is all he needs to prepare a command to send the vehicle to it's rather untimely death.
With that task complete, he recalls his Agent from the previous search.
<<<@Agent [Doc] Search[surveillance objects along route]>>>
He then pulls up his own search and runs alongside the agent carefully scaning the route.
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@Van
"It's Friday morning. We should keep in mind that while a place might be vacant now, it could be occupied by this evening. It's ski season and one would think that the owners use their chalets on the weekends."
Good point. You're better at spotting things in the astral. Please pre-scout the houses and find a few empty candidates. If you can match them to a map so that Doc can match them to an address, then from there to an owner, he can maybe dig into their schedules and see which ones will be remaining vacant for the next few days.
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Chino scans the area around him, looking for a suitable spot to park the torn-up Rover. He notices a small spot under some evergreens; the trees kept the snow from piling up. Taking a glance around, it seems to block line of sight.
Perfect.
He drives the car in, although the ride was a little bumpier than he expected.
"We've arrived at our destination. This is probably the best spot we're going to get before we hit the town."
Chino turns off the car to save what little gas is left for when Crumpled "disposes" of it. He takes out his simrig and looks at it thoughtfully. I suppose now is as good a time as ever.
He puts the unlabeled chip into his commlink, adjusts the trodes on his head, and sits back as the simchip starts to play.
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Katsina nods to Ohanzee. "I'm on it."
She settles in toward the front of the Rover, hoping to be out of the way of Sam's demolition activities. She glances to Ace before slipping off into astral space.
@Ace (private)
<<Keep an eye on me while I'm out, if you would. We'll synch up once we're settled in for the night.>>
She astrally projects, disappearing into the nearby neighborhoods in the blink of an eye.
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<<@Katsina [Ace] I gotcha covered. We'll talk soon.>>
After sending off his text, Ace tops off his magazine, and considers his options. With most of the team disposed in their various jobs he would probably be more useful out of the Rover than inside of it. On the other hand, Katsina was the last surviving member of his team, and he couldn't help an unfounded suspicion that if the rest of the crew wanted to off them, they stood a better chance doing so while they were separated. Finally, while he reasoned that wasn't very likely, he wanted to stick to the request as it was given to him, moved to the back of the Rover, squeezing in next to the obelisk -- Ghost he hated being this close to that thing -- wiped the back window, switched his vision to thermographic, and kept an eye out for what might be on their six.
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Seeing everyone busying themselves with their tasks, he felt a moment of pride. He was more optimistic that they might survive the night, indeed, maybe even the whole ordeal. After APB, he had to admit that his confidence was shaken.
He tried to stay out of the others' way and busied himself with preparing the crate to move. After working with the crate for a few minutes, he realized that he was unconsciously avoiding touching the artifact. He found that curious, but also prudent, and did not stop avoiding contact with it.
Once he was finished with the crate, he did a quick look to see just how far from their current location Gloria Winters lived. He didn't plan on visiting her, but he didn't rule out some surveillance. Was she awakened? Could he pop out really quick and check on her house from the astral without being noticed? Or would she spot him, and be angry at his avoiding her? Was she even still alive? He decided it was probably best to have a spirit pre-scout the house, but that would have to wait until they no longer needed the concealment provided by Raven. He briefly considered asking Katsina, but felt that this was too low a priority, possibly bordering on personal interest, and decided to keep it to himself for now.
He got as comfortable as he could and tried to relax. Soon they would have a solid next step and things would move quickly. But for now, all he could do was rest and mentally prepare for the tasks ahead.
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As Chino exits the embrace of VR; he is hit by the bitter disappointment of the real world. The cold, biting wind, and hard seat were nothing compared to what he had just experienced.
He forces his eyes open and looks at the man lying limp in the back of the van. Hack and he made a pretty good team. Wait. Hack? Chino feels as if he was drugged, he can't remember things clearly. No, his name's Doc. No, wait. Crumpled. Shit. I can't remember which one is him. He could have sworn all of them were his friends. Or were none of them? Chino jabs his sinuses with his fingers, hoping to stimulate a coherent thought. His mind flashes back to the ectasy he felt during the simchip; the joy he felt as those humans' lives bled out of them; it was like a drug ...
He shakes his head to try and clear his thoughts. Looking around him, he sees he is in a driver's seat. Frag, where am I? Last thing I remember, Crumpled, no, Hack ... He snarls quietly to himself. He can't get remember what the hell he and his friend were doing here.
Chino nudges the limp figure of the person he thought he recognized. No response. The breeder was in VR. In frustration, he opened the door and stepped outside. Drek, it's cold.
He spotted a dwarf levitating some crate. No, not a dwarf. His name started with an "O". Shit. Chino watched him for a minute, and then it hit him. He remembered. That was Ohanzee; the man inside was Hack, no, Crumpled, ah, forget it. They had woken up with amnesia in a van on the side of a cliff in the middle of god damned nowhere. They were currently looking for a place to break into to lay low. Oh ... Ghost. Best not tell the others about this.
Chino opens the car door again and sits in his seat, looking at his hands and wondering just how the hell he was going to bluff his way through this.
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Realizing that he hasn't a clue how to drive this thing Doc puts the van on the back burner while he creates an ARO with all of the surveilence equipment he and the agent find.
<<<@ALL [Doc]: Lupine Drive heads to a corp-owned community called "Mountain Valley." We've got all kinds of monitoring and security that way. Stillwater Drive is quiet though. Did a pretty through scan, and I think that's the way we should head. We've got some standard municiple gear about half a klick up the road, but that'll be a cakewalk. I think Ohn and I should team up and check out Stillwater drive for an empty, him on the astral, me in the Matrix. That work for you omea? Then we can plot our course. Also, anyone got any bright ideas on the van as I can't drive for dreck.
<<Send File: hotSpots.aro>>
>>>
"Damn I'm in a good mood, must be leavin' the meat. This is obviously where I'm most comfortable."
<<<@agent [Doc]: Make sure no one sneaks up on me.>>>
While keeping an eye on his windows into the meat, he heads off to the virtual Sillwater Driver and starts examining the buildings.
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Katsina snaps up out of her astral sleep. She looks around, making sure everything is alright. She glances at Chino, sees his aura. "What the hell happened to you? she asks, noticing the change in his mental state.
She shakes her head, not waiting for a response, then sends a text via DNI to the team.
@Team
<<We have light astral security to our right. A handful of watchers, a couple low-level spirits. On the left there's nothing looking for us on the astral. There's a stretch of three houses, of which the southernmost is occupied. The middle house and the house on the north are empty. Doc, can you cross-reference in the Matrix?>>
She tags the three houses in question with AROs.
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Doc/Hack flits off into the Matrix to investigate the houses that Katsina has identified with AROs.
>> Welcome to AspeNet!
>> Proudly provided to you in conjunction with Sandia Laboratories
The virtual horizons of cyberspace expand around Doc. He can tell right away that he's in a special corner of the Matrix. Everything is crisper, more compact. Dataflows are faster and processors are time-slicing at much higher clock speeds. This is the Matrix of his dreams.
The sky is black, as if it were night, but the Matrix "weather" is mimicking the snow that's falling outside. Looking closely, Doc realizes that randomly selected data streams have been coded to shine and fall like snowflakes. The visual stretches a kilometer around him in every direction. It's a gratuitous use of processing power, and it is beautiful.
In a blink he's over by the houses. They are tethered near to the ground, unlike many other hosts which choose to float somewhere above earthly matters. Scanning them is a snap. Almost immediately he pegs the middle house as the softer of the two targets. After glancing around for other hidden observers (and finding none) he decides to dip his toe in to see what he can find.
In a blink, Doc has a scalpel in his hand. He uses it to finely incise a mark onto the host, leaving a red wound on the node. He invites himself in, poking around at his leisure. He quickly identifies the physical security measures, plus the myriad devices that compose a modern household. Even inside the Matrix, the home feels brisk. He sees that the thermometer is set to a chilly 15 degrees. Either Daddy Warbucks here has such a large wine collection that he treats his whole house as a wine cellar OR he's not going to be home for a while. A quick check of the themometer's schedule suggests that the latter is true. Doc smiles; this seems like a valid option.
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While snooping around the Host and gathering some more intel Doc informs the group of his current findings.
<<<@Team [Doc]: The middle house is a soft target. Pretty standard security, camera's motion sensors and some mag locks. All easily dealt with. Also, doesn't look like anyone is planning on being here for about a week or so. We'll have time. Doing more digging before risking the North house.>>>
"Now lets see if I can get any info on the owner."
Doc walks into the office of the host and takes a look at the file cabinet. He dons a Sherlock Homls-esq hat and pulls out a magnifying glass as he starts to rifle through the files.
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Doc waves his magnifying glass around, absentmindedly puffing on a gigantic pipe that has appeared out of nowhere.
The house itself contains relatively few details on the owner. He must keep his private files on his personal commlink. The only thing that Doc can find are some utility bills which indicate that the house is owned by one JOSEPH MORAN.
Doc takes a minute to cross-reference the name with what's available on the Matrix. There are dozens of men by that name but Doc limits the results to those likely to reside in or around Aspen. He finds records for a Joseph Moran working for an Ares subsidiary (a bank, specifically) in Denver. The bank used to be a part of Cross Applied Technologies but was devoured by Ares when CATco fell apart in 2065 following Crash 2.0 in November 2064.
Joseph does not appear to have any wife or children. An online dating profile suggests that he has been divorced at least once. His profile photo looks like your typical lily-white, doughy, middle-aged corper. There is a news article from an independent screamsheet accusing Mr. Moran's department of predatory lending practices, specifically targeting low-income metahumans. That was the last issue published by that particular screamsheet. Mr. Moran's professional profile indicates that he used to work for Brackhaven Investments in Seattle about 12 years ago before leaving to pursue opportunities in Denver. He has a license to practice law in the UCAS.
-
Once Doc has reviewed the data, he copies it up and sends it to the team.
<<<@Team [Doc] attached file <Joseph_Moran.txt> I think we have a winner here. Not going to bother with the North House. Taking security out now then I'll meet you in the meat.>>>
-
As soon as he read Doc's message, Ohanzee got to work. Once again, his chanting filled the cabin of the rover. For a few seconds, the mana gathered to him, and then was focused into the spell, channeled towards the crate. It. VANISHED. One moment it was there, nearly 400 kilos of solidness, and then - nothing.
But it WAS still there. It just didn't LOOK "there". He imagined a collective gasp from those in the cabin, but perhaps it was mere fantasy. It WAS a pretty cool trick, worthy of gasps of astonishment, but hardened Shadowrunners tended to have a higher threshold of "oooh!". Such a pity.
He moved on to his next task, and the chanting once again filled the inside of the vehicle. A few seconds later the vehicle noticeably lifted, the weight of the crate no longer a burden on its shocks. Visibly distracted with focus, the dwarf opened the rear doors of the SUV and exited, guiding the invisible crate out behind him. He raised it to about 3 meters off the ground, just so none of his compatriots would risk bumping into it.
Once outside, he waited for the others to exit and lead the way - he wasn't likely to spot so much as a troll in a neon suit under his current level of distraction. Better to let another lead.
He scanned the road they would soon travel down for anything at the height of the crate that he might need to compensate for, and mentally mapped the course in his head. Then, once all the others had exited the vehicle and finished their preparations, he fell in with them as they headed towards the house they would be staying in for the night - and perhaps longer.
-
Ace nods as he reads the write-up on Moran. This looks like a winner to him, for sure. When he focuses his attention back on the interior of the van he's taken aback for a moment when he notices that the crate isn't there. When the shocks from the van gave an auditory sigh of relief, he looks to Ohanzee and gives a small thumb's up, not wanting to distract the man from whatever work that chanting is doing. Once the door opens, Ace steps outside and does a head-check until the whole team is assembled. He turns to Sam and says, "You take point, and I'll watch our six, wiz?"
-
Once the door opens, Ace steps outside and does a head-check until the whole team is assembled. He turns to Sam and says, "You take point, and I'll watch our six, wiz?"
Stepping out of the rover and stretching out for the first time in a while, he strikes an imposing figure, even with the frost and ice breaking and falling off of him. He minimizes his AROs dealing with fire, explosives, and rover schematics to replace them with more combat related ones before readying his rifle, but keeping it low, under the jacket as much as he can. He narrows his eyes a bit and gives Ace a cold as the snow, deadpan look that says "you are speaking" and without breaking eye contact, he speaks to Ohanze in an even tone.
"What do you say, Big O?"
-
Ohanzee looks a little startled by the question, bringing his focus back to the dialogue. Something about who should be on point and who on rear guard. The situation looked like it might turn tense.
>> To Blue Team:
>> We don't have to trust them, but don't let them know that. Keep your enemies closer, and all that.
"After the events at the downed chopper, I'm not sure Sam is the most observant of us. Katsina is the best option for point m-" he pauses, "person, I feel, being very perceptive, and able to see in the astral as well. Please, take the lead. Chino, Doc, and I will take the middle as we're likely to be more distracted performing our tasks. Sam, you might have to carry Doc, so I suggest Ace bring up the rear."
>> To Blue Team:
>> I know it is tactically dis-advantageous putting him in the rear if we can't trust them. But for now I don't see much option. Take whatever precautions you deem necessary.
-
"After the events at the downed chopper, I'm not sure Sam is the most observant of us. Katsina is the best option for point m-" he pauses, "person, I feel, being very perceptive, and able to see in the astral as well. Please, take the lead. Chino, Doc, and I will take the middle as we're likely to be more distracted performing our tasks. Sam, you might have to carry Doc, so I suggest Ace bring up the rear."
The giant russian nods and turns around, offering an arm to the crumpled doctor; the arm without it's finger on the trigger of the rifle, of course.
>> To Blue Team:
>> I know it is tactically dis-advantageous putting him in the rear if we can't trust them. But for now I don't see much option. Take whatever precautions you deem necessary.
>> To Blue Team:
>> I'll be second to last. It will take him too long to kill me for him to gain any tactical advantage from doing so. Also, keep in mind, just because we were on different teams does not mean we were enemies. Red team could very well have been a secondary or support crew, sent in after the initial phase of the job. They may be essential allies or they may be backstabbing foes. We must, for now at least, assume both are true when dealing with them.
-
<<<@Blue Team [Doc] I second the trust but verify stance. Also, I've got feeds on everyone and can keep an eye out that way.>>>
<<<@Team [Doc] As soon as I'm done with the security I'll come back to the meat. See you soon chummers.>>>
-
Chino almost breaks the car door when he hears Katsina talk to him. He missed most of the words; something about his aura being weird. He quietly pulls his hand back and tries to act normal. Taking a quick glance back, he notices Katsina wasn't paying any attention to him. It's been a fragging minute since I realized I'm falling apart and I almost blew it! Pull yourself together! Images hit him again, a man, completely flattened by a door that seems to have fallen on him, blood everywhere. This time, he hears echoes 'Four-three, bitch!' followed by laughter that sounds very much like his own. It's an unsettling scene, but Chino finds himself enjoying the image; the death and victory sending tremors of ecstasy through his body. As if that scene was natural, more natural than the current freezing drek they were situated in.
Buunda! I need something to do. Something to concentrate on.
After what seemed like an eternity, something flickered into his view. Finally! Doc got something. Crumpled. Hack. Damn it! Chino shook his head. He's Doc for now, everyone else seems to be calling him that. He quickly brought up the info file Doc had sent. Eager that he finally had something to focus on, Chino swiftly read through it. Bingo! Yahtzee! Wait, what the frag is Yahtzee? For that matter, what the frag is Bingo? Aaaaaagh, I'm losing my grip again!
Another minute goes by, this time, without any images coming to mind. Just pure darkness. Sweet. Delicious. Darkness.
As he comes to, Chino realizes that everyone has already left the car. Now might be a good time to move. Or... No! Move, damn it! Chino does not go out like this!
He opens the door and steps outside. Ohanzee seems to be taking charge again. Right. Orders. All right, I guess I'll be in the middle. I better not black out while we're walking. He notices a whole bunch of messages flying around, and looks them over. Lots of messages between the blue team. In a surprising moment of clarity, he responds,
<<@Blue Team [Chino] They are in the same boat as the rest of us. They know that they have a better chance with us than against us, and that we outnumber them. Nevertheless, I agree. It never hurts to be too cautious.>>
Chino nods and gets himself into formation. Damn, it's good to be moving again. Unconsciously, a grin appears on his face. He faces Katsina. In a semi-serious tone, he says, "Ma'am, you lead the way."
-
As the group arranges themselves and moves out, Ohanzee is struck by a concern. Having the crate up high is fine for mundanes, but it is lit up like a candle in the Astral. Having it up high makes it easier to spot, so he brings it down to nearly ground level off to his side. He's careful to keep it out of the way, and to avoid any obstacles that come up. In spots where there isn't room to maneuver, he falls back a little and moves it into it's own crate sized spot in the roughly single file line the team has formed up in.
Once they are all clear of the van, he sends a message.
>> @ Team
>> Okay Chino, it's your show. Send our ex-ride to its final destination.
-
Katsina nods at the plan of action, internally pleased to be moving. She hops out of the van and is quickly reassesses her opinion of moving. The wind is gusting up to 20 kph from the south-southwest. The temperature has warmed slightly from when they first woke up but it is still -17C outside. She pulls her long coat more tightly around her, happy to have no exposed skin. Exchanging a glance with Ace, she leads the way per Ohanzee's instructions.
Internally, she's impressed at the effectiveness of Ohanzee's casting. Both spells are strong and tight. She can see the crate floating along on the astral, easily keeping pace with the team.
The snow crunches audibly underfoot. She's not worried about the noise - it's the dead of night, and Ohanzee's spirit of air, White Raven, would certainly conceal them from any casual observeration - but she's knowledgeable about Tracking and knows that the tracks are bad form.
<<@Team [Katsina] We're headed about 200 meters up the hill. Let's walk single-file to conceal our numbers. With luck the falling snow will cover most of our tracks by morning. The forecast is for a few more centimeters tonight. I'm not sure there's any other way to avoid tracks unless Ohanzee wants to levitate us one-by-one.>>
She glances about, taking care to look up as well as around. Visually, the task is easy. With thermographic vision and a night colder than a witch's tit (she would know), anyone with a pulse would stick out like a flare. The aspen trees are thin and naked for their winter hibernation, providing little cover. Astrally, things are more complicated. The aspen trees are still alive, if dormant, making the scene as bright as the meatworld is dark. Her sustained spell is strong and is telling her with all due certainty that nobody with harmful intent is within a quarter klick of her position. But, still... there's a nagging thought in her head. Just because there's nothing hostile nearby doesn't mean that there's nothing. Her head tilts up, her senses divided by the concentration on her spell and the lingering effects of drain from previous casting.
<<@Ohanzee [Katsina] I see movement in the tree tops. Nothing hostile, but could be a pair of eyes. I saw some watchers and low-level spirits on the other side of the road during my first pass but none over here. But let's make sure. Can you double-check?>>
Edit: grammar
-
Ohanzee looks around gamely, but his vision is blurry from the strain of sustaining. Sparkles of light shoot across his vision as the strain causes his photoreceptors misfire under the exertion. After a few moments, he gives up.
>> @Katsina: I can't see anything but blurriness and flashes. If they see in the astral, we're impossible to miss with the crate lit up with magical energy.
He thinks for a second.
>> @Katsina: Maybe I can use the crate as a diversion. Might give us the element of surprise if one of them changes their mind and becomes hostile.
Ohanzee maneuvers the crate about 10 meters away from the party, parallel to their line, but essentially on the opposite side of the road.
>> @Team: Heads up, we may have some interested spirits up in the tree line. Can't get a good look at them, but be prepared for if they turn hostile.
-
Doc sees the terrier PatrolIC approach and starts to panic for a moment, then remembers he's a pro and the Host has him here as a legit user. He pats the IC on the head and tosses it an electronic doggie treat. While the IC is distracted he quickly pulls his scalpel back out and makes his modifications to the security systems, then whistles for the dog while waving a chew toy at him.
-
<<@Team [Katsina] We're headed about 200 meters up the hill. Let's walk single-file to conceal our numbers. With luck the falling snow will cover most of our tracks by morning. The forecast is for a few more centimeters tonight. I'm not sure there's any other way to avoid tracks unless Ohanzee wants to levitate us one-by-one.>>
<<@Team [Ace] Agreed. And don't bunch up too much. When we get closer to the houses it may be advantageous to approach one at a time. If we're sure no one's home, I say we get Doc and the crate up there first.>>
As the team starts to move, Ace turns around to walk backward, watching the Rover slowly disappear from view in the lightly falling snow. Here's to hoping a few centimeters is like 6.
-
Summoning an effort of will, Ohanzee stops walking for a second to commit as much focus as possible to peering into the Astral. He raises his gaze to the trees to try confirming Katsina's suspicion, hoping his familiarity with spirits would allow him some chance to recognize them even with the distraction of sustaining his spells and the aches and pains his body insists on reporting to his brain.
Slowly, the shapes begin to take focus...
-
In the Matrix, Doc leans down and scratches the terrier behind the ears. He knows that if he slips up that the host is going to get a mark on him. The dog will probably nip his fingers, pee on his leg, and start barking until the German Shepherds or the Rottweilers or the Dobermen come along. He would really rather that it not come to that. He sends batch commands to the cameras, maglocks, motion sensors, and thermometer. He catches some lazy code directed toward the maglocks and cleans it up and before it gets transmitted. The Yorkie sniffs his fingers the whole while, convinced that its master is giving right and proper orders to the home's devices. The small dog eventually yips and returns to its regularly scheduled patrol pattern, sniffing the about and looking for unwarranted intrusions.
Outside, Katsina decides that stopping is a worse alternative than progressing. <<@Team [Katsina] Let's keep moving. It could just be a spirit of the mountain, or maybe an air spirit attracted to the storm. These are tribal lands, after all.>>
She leads the way up a slight hill. Chino, the only conscious member of the team without thermographic vision, has the most trouble seeing. Due to the storm there is almost no ambient light. Luckily he has a low-light flashlight, which keeps his from plowing into Katsina in front of him. During a distracted moment his foot slips on some ice underneath the snow. A quick mental twist activates his Hang Time ability, magically reattaching his foot to the ground for better traction.
After a couple minutes, three houses can be made out in the darkness. The north house - the one you approach first since you are walking south on Stillwater Drive - looks dark and vacant. So does the second home. Thermographically, the third home is much brighter than the other two, which suggests there are people home. There are no lights on, likely due to Aspen's outdoor lighting ordinances which were written to help preserve the small-town character, eliminate light pollution, and conserve energy.
The rich folks don't like their houses too cramped, so there are at least 25 meters of space between each home. This space is mostly filled with scraggly aspen trees. They won't stop a dedicated observer but they're better than a wide-open yard or lawn. If the team is careful to limit their outdoor movement (and fireballs and gunfire) during daylight hours then they should be able to occupy the house undetected.
You arrive at the driveway to the middle house. There's a motion-activated light over the garage. Per Doc's instructions, it doesn't turn on. The front door is at the top of some stairs to the left of the driveway.
-
With the house, and hopefully warmth, practically close enough to touch, the dwarf is tempted to pick up his pace, get inside and relieve the burden of maintaining his spells. But something in the back of his mind tells him that this desire to take shortcuts as the end is in sight is what got people killed. After quickly conferring with Sam over text chat, Ohanzee broadcasts his plan of action.
>> @Team: Let's do this smart. Katsina, you're still on point. Give the place a good once over and head in. Try to keep a low profile - the spirit has you covered, but it best serves them that help themselves. Once you are in, give the all clear and we'll follow. Sam, set Doc down gently, I want you to cover the house in case anything gets the jump on her. Chino, you're on lookout. Make sure we aren't surprised while we stand here shivering. Doc, you're on overwatch. If it's larger than a cat and moves within 100m of us, I want to know about it. Ace, sneak around the back so we approach from two directions. Same as Katsina - keep a low profile and sweep the area for any nastiness. Weapons at the ready. If there is any reason to think this isn't a safe spot to lay low for 24 hours, we bug out. Sam's the expert when it comes to breaching and tactics, so until we're safely inside, he's giving the orders. Let's move.
-
If Katsina shows any pique, it's hidden behind her mask.
<<@Team [Katsina] I scouted the place on the astral three minutes ago. It was empty. I've got my spell up too. Maybe there's an Ares Duelist wandering around the house like a bladed butler but I trust Doc would have picked up on that.>>
Still, she follows directions. She skips her claymore - reasoning that it is too large to wield effectively indoors - in favor of a handful of small throwing knives. Advancing up the stairs to the front door, she takes care not to slip on ice or snow like Chino almost did. She pauses when she reaches the front door.
<<@Team [Katsina] There's a storm door. It's not completely closed. Might be broken but doesn't show any obvious signs of B&E.>> She studies the door more closely, then swears lowly and sweetly under her breath. <<Whatever you do, don't touch the doorknob unless you want to leave behind several layers of skin and DNA. It's metal and has been exposed to the weather since the storm door is broken.>> She reaches forward gingerly, tapping the doorknob with her gloved hands to make sure they won't stick. She pulls her hand back quickly and flexes it a few times. <<Seriously. Ace, if the doorknob is exposed metal out back, think of a new approach.>>
-
Chino nods silently, the half-crazed smile is gone from his face. He gets into position and looks out, checking for any strange sights or sounds. Chino realizes that he is shivering. This place just keeps getting fragging colder by the minute.
As Katsina and the others work their magic, Chino attempts to stay alert. Surprisingly, he doesn't experience another episode. Hopefully that's a good sign. Or it's just the calm before the storm, Chino thinks darkly.
Chino traces the tattoo on his face with his hand. It seems to be some sort of elaborate pattern, but he has no idea about it's origin. He knows it gives him sight of the Astral world, but he has no memory of what the Astral world looks like, or how seeing it might affect him in his current condition. No time like the present, I suppose.
Chino braces himself and wills the focus to activate; the Astral world unfolding before him as the barriers of his mundane sight fall away.
-
"You there, you here, you here, you two there and there." He points with his fingers and speaks to the team sub-vocally as the team approaches the house, making sure everyone can see everyone's blindspot and watch eachother's backs.
This is a traveling overwatch formation. Standard stuff for most military personnel. Is that me? Am I ex-military? He briefly glances down at the rifle cradled in his arm. Seems likely.
-
Doc tosses one more doggie treat to the Patrol IC before exiting the host. Switching modes is always a shock, even more so droping into the bracing cold of the Colorado night. Luckily he's been keeping an eye on things via Sam's goggles and Chino's earbuds so the physical location disorientation isn't that extreme. But damn is it cold.
A bit cavalierly, Doc stands up looks around, checks his cyber shotgun and DNIs, "Caution is good and all, but we've got double overwatch and triple scans on this place. I'm fraggin' COLD."
That said, he's still checkin' their 6 and watching on AR for any devices coming into the area.
-
Ace falls into formation at Sam's command, and it's second-nature. This feels right. As they approach the house and Ohanzee's orders come over the comm, Ace answers, <<@Team [Ace] Roger that. Double-checking that Doc got all the motion sensors, right?>> Upon receiving the affirmative, he peels off from the group and approaches the north side of the house, with his machine pistol parallel to his leg and keeps close to the facade. It almost looks like real rock; this is some nice work, he notes as he moves around the back. At the back corner, Ace drops to his knees and peeks the barrel of his Ares Crusader around the blind spot. Convinced there's nothing out back, Ace again stays close to the facade and checks out the back door. Alright, can we get in here?
-
Ace disappears into the night, gliding like a ghost around the back of the house. There's a small yard and an enclosed patio that that has a covered hot tub. He opens the storm door to the patio and prepares for entry. Per Katsina's warning, Ace checks the handle with his thermographic vision before proceeding. It looks fine, and a gentle touch suggests that it won't stick to his skin.
He signals that he is in position. Katsina confirms, then waits for the go order. Sam, satisfied with the situation, delivers a clipped "Go!" into his subvocal microphone. Katsina quickly twists the doorknob, not leaving her gloved hand on the freezing metal any longer than necessary.
Ace and Katsina are in the house in an instant, sweeping through it quickly. Ace finds himself in the kitchen first while Katsina goes through the living room up front. They exchange a glance in the dining room before Ace clears the master bedroom and bathroom while Katsina slips up the stairs to investigate the second floor. Doc keeps an eye on things in AR; none of the motion detectors are triggered, no alarms go off.
Chino follows them in and checks the other bedrooms and bathroom downstairs. Sam and Doc find the stairs leading down the garage and go to check it. As Doc had seen, there's a snowmobile and an ATV, plus a good deal of gardening equipment and a tool set. All of the tools look brand new. Sam, poking around, finds a 20-liter gas can that's mostly full.
<<Everyone [Everyone] Clear.>>
Ohanzee makes his way in slowly, careful not to bash the cargo against the door frame that's not much wider the crate. He closes the door behind him, immediately grateful for the relative warmth of the house and the lack of wind inside.
Examining things more closely, the house seems larger than what a corper with no wife and no kids would need for himself. It has three bedrooms downstairs plus an office and a sleeping loft upstairs. There are two bathrooms downstairs - one off the master bedroom, another shared by the other two bedrooms - and a third bathroom upstairs. Also, the house is certainly nice, but it's nowhere as nice as you would expect a million-nuyen house in Aspen to be. Or maybe that's a commentary on Aspen, where a house like this does cost more than a million.
Still, it should suit your immediate needs. There are three queen beds downstairs, two twin beds upstairs in the loft, and a freezer full of frozen food. Most of it is bachelor food - pizzas, burgers, and the like - but right now it sounds delicious. You realize that it's been hours since you've eaten and many hours more since you slept (Sam's short nap notwithstanding). You take a deep breath, warm and (seemingly) safe for the first time in memory. It's time to take care of some physical needs, then to regroup about next steps.
-
Doc pokes around some of the supplies and equipment in the garage, lingering a bit near some of the bags a little bit but then moves on. Once inside, he makes sure all of the windows are darkened or the shades are drawn so that none of thier movements or lights will attract any attention. Grabbing all of the pizza he gets those heating so as to feed everyone as quickly as possible. Sleep is going to become a real need very shortly.
<<<@Team [Doc] Foods up, cooker will send a message once its ready. Hope everyone likes frozen pizza.>>>
With the pizza started he heads back to the garage to check out some of the gear in there. While he's back in there he takes the opportunity to reboot his deck. Once the system comes back online he goes about re-applying marks to all that have invited him and slaves their gear. Then he has everything run silently including his deck.
Having found nothing particularly useful to himself in there he heads back to the kitchen and starts scarfing down some of the pizza.
-
Once inside, Ohanzee finds a space to place the crate that is not covered by the cameras and is as shielded from the outside on the astral as possible. He drops the invisibility and brings it gently to the ground. If only there were a proper basement so that the crate could be hidden within the Earth's aura, but the vines and earth and wood components of the house will have to do.
The smell of the pizza makes concentrating difficult, and the pressure on his bladder moreso. Everyone seems to be busying themselves, so he takes the opportunity to discreetly disappear and take care of various biological needs. He's tempted to check the hot water and get a proper bath, but decides against it - food and drink take priority. He heads out into the kitchen and finds the team gathered there eating. Without a word he tears into a slice of pizza, then another. As the second slice vanishes quickly into his gullet, he browses the refrigerator for something to drink.
The place is well stocked with alcohol, and he reaches for a beer, but thinks better of it and closes the refrigerator, heads to the cupboards, finds the glasses, and gets water from the tap. On instinct, he sniffs it before drinking and finds it crisp and clean. Clean water from a tap - this is definitely a nice neighborhood. He downs the entire glass in one gulp, refills it, grabs a third slice of pizza, and finally sits down. He can feel himself thinking clearly again.
"Once we are finished here, Ace, you are in charge of securing this place. We've had one strike team make an attempt on us, I don't expect that whomever sent them has given up. We need to be ready before we can properly rest. When we do hit the hay, I want two people on watch at all times - two hour shifts. I expect we can decide among ourselves who will take what watch. I'll take the sunrise shift since our spirit protection will fade at that time, so I'll have to decide on the best course of action at that point."
"Doc, Chino, the rover is yours once Sam gives the go ahead. The sooner we can be rid of it, the better. Sam, coordinate with Ace - some fireworks might be useful in the event of a breach. Kat, you and I will assist however needed, though if you have any ideas for toys that might be useful, get those made." His gaze falls on Katsina's collection of throwing knives as he speaks the last part. "Any thoughts on how to proceed after we've rested up are welcome. We've been in frantic survival mode for as long as I can remember" he smiles at the joke "and I'm not sure I am aware of all of our options now that we have some time to sit and think."
"Also, I want to know about our neighbors. The high Matrix defenses on the house next door concern me. There's a reason, and it probably isn't just that the owner has too much money. We'll also need a rough schedule of when people aren't around so that we can come an go unseen, even during the day. And on that topic, we need wheels. I doubt we have the funds to buy any, so we'll need to appropriate one discreetly. Doc, Chino, that's your next task after the rover is dealt with. I'd prefer that task not wait until morning in case we need to move on someone else's schedule."
"Lastly, it might be a good idea to leave as little trace as possible" He looks at the empty boxes of frozen pizza and makes a shopping list so that they can be replaced on the next trip to town. "If Mr. Johnson never realizes we were here, then the authorities, or our pursuers, won't scour the place for DNA and evidence. It'll make clean-up easier and allow us the option of not having to send up a flare by burning this place. Or they might find us here anyway and it's all for nothing, but I'd like to leave the option open. We'll call that plan A."
He waits for the others to speak up, but already his mind is zoning out. He'd only been up for a few hours, but he knew that if he could just relax for an hour or so, he'd feel so much better.
-
Doc wearily eyes Ohanzee for a moment. After he's gone down the list of tasks he pipes up. "I appreciate the sense of caution and being careful, but if the rest of the team is anything like me, folks are going to need more rest than that. 2 hour shifts are rough of folks. I suggest we rely on the resources we have, such as spirits and agents, as well as physical security to get as much solid rest as we can. I think we can trust our tools to do their jobs so that we can recover from the rather difficult time we've had. We all need rest so we can deal with the shitstorm that's invariably coming our way. Just my two cents. I'll follow your lead if you feel strongly on the issue."
Doc goes back to finish another slice and grabs a beer. Once the discussion winds down, he, Chino and Sam will deal with the rover.
-
Chino gazes in wonder as the Astral World hits him. Sure, maybe it's not so wondrous for others, but he doesn't remember drek, so give him a break.
He takes a moment to survey his own body, noticing several extremely well fitted pieces of 'ware integrated into his body. He looks towards Uncle Sam and notices his aura is also tinged with the colors of implants. He glances towards Ohanzee and has to quickly look away as his aura shines brightly on the Astral Plane. He finally rests his eyes on Doc, and notices something out of the ordinary. Something, unnatural; unlike anything he's seen before. He looks back towards his own body, and those of his teammates. The traces are there, although they are much stronger in Doc's body.
What the frag? I definitely need Ohanzee to check me on this; this is just downright strange. Chino makes a mental note to discuss this with Ohanzee later, after they aren't busy trying to cover their tracks.
Remembering what he originally activated the focus for, Chino quickly glances back towards the open space, looking for any tails. Coast looks clear.
He deactivates his focus and settles back into the disappointing realm of the mundane.
Everyone is poised to go in, and they motion towards Chino to get into position. He does so, and they quickly clear the house.
At the smell of food, Chino's belly grumbles. He just realizes how hungry he was. Funny how running for your life suppresses your appetite. He couldn't remember the last time he ate, literally. After finishing up checking out the house, he settles down and gets himself four slices of pizza. He quickly gobbles down his first slice, and is on his second when Ohanzee starts speaking.
Chino listens as he finishes the rest of his pizza. Hell, who knows when they'll have access to food again. Chino gets up and gets another few slices to devour and a beer to wash it all down as the others talk. As the conversation ends, Chino finishes the rest of his pizza. Leaning back, he thinks for a moment. Maybe more than a moment, the chair is feeling really good right about now. Like, really good. Right before he drifts off to sleep, Chino manages to shake himself awake.
He glances around, everyone else seems to be doing the same thing; barely keeping themselves awake. Even Ohanzee seems burnt out. "How long do we have for the spirit to hang around? I'm dead tired right now, and I'm not even sure I could make a two hour shift. I'm not sure anyone else here can either, but if anyone wants to volunteer, be my guest."
I might be dead tired, but I don't even know if I can sleep. Who knows what will happen when I fall asleep? He thinks morosely, Damned if I do, damned if I don't. There ain't no rest for the wicked. Ah drek, I'm mixing stuff up again.
Chino looks around again, and it seems like no one else has any energy to use. He rubs his eyes in an effort to stay awake, trying to suppress a yawn.
-
It's 02:30 by the time you've cleared the house, relieved yourself, cooked the pizzas, and assembled in the kitchen. The house is warming up as the furnace pushes the temperature to 22C. The kitchen is even warmer with the oven turning out frozen pizza at 250C.
Katsina takes off her black gloves for the first time, revealing creamy white skin. She takes her long coat off gingerly, figuring that there's no graceful way to sit down with a claymore in the concealed sheath of the coat. She props the coat up against the wall, the claymore providing it some structure. Sitting on a stool along the kitchen counter, she pushes up her sleeves and takes a single piece of pizza. She sniffs it through her mask, then pushes it away with distaste.
Katsina nods at Ohanzee's outline of the situation and plan of action, although privately she might wonder how realistic it is to accomplish it all and get some sleep before it is light out. Her commlink tells her the time.
"Sunrise is at 07:15," she says factually. "That's less than five hours from now. The forecast is for light snow until 10:00, then cold and cloudy the rest of the day. Any tracks we make after that won't be covered up." She glances around to see if the tired brains understand.
"I feel okay. A little slow from the spellcasting" - you're not sure if she means drain or the spell she is sustaining, maybe both - "but I can make it to sunrise. Ohanzee, you're the most banged up out of all of us. You can crash until then and then take over with a spirit while I sleep. But I imagine it's going to be a full day or two before you and Doc are fully recovered."
The thought makes her wonder how safe they are. Her spell is telling her that they are safe, but another Nissan Hound could cover the distance between the edge of her spell and the house in mere seconds. That's better than nothing, but she glances back at her claymore and resolves not to let it get too far out of reach.
She looks at Ohanzee. "If we're going to be here a while, you and I could ward the room with the crate. That will take hours to do properly, so maybe leave that for tomorrow. Later today, I mean."
She pauses again, wondering how long a while might reasonably be. And what are the odds they can keep their presence hidden the whole while? Are they really going to go grocery shopping to replace the pizza? Are they going to do laundry to clean the sheets they sleep on, all to hide the fact that they were ever there? The glamorous life of a shadowrunner.
"Once we've all had a chance to rest, we need to sit down and figure out what we know individually. I'm sure we all have contacts that can help shed light on things. Maybe then we can piece together what happened to us and figure out what we should do next."
She looks to Ace. "Whatever you need to make the house secure, let me know. I'll help however I can."
-
Ace stacks two slices of pizza together like a sandwich, and eats with the economy of a man just trying to fill himself up. He takes down a pint of water in one long swig, refills his cup, and waits ten minutes before downing more water. With the whole crew huddled in the kitchen, it almost seems like some lost holiday, pulling in extended family who barely know one another. Well, at least there doesn't seem to be an old drunk uncle Earl here to talk about how the Humanis Policlub is really an ok group a guys.
"Once we are finished here, Ace, you are in charge of securing this place. We've had one strike team make an attempt on us, I don't expect that whomever sent them has given up. We need to be ready before we can properly rest. When we do hit the hay, I want two people on watch at all times - two hour shifts. I expect we can decide among ourselves who will take what watch. I'll take the sunrise shift since our spirit protection will fade at that time, so I'll have to decide on the best course of action at that point."
Doc wearily eyes Ohanzee for a moment. After he's gone down the list of tasks he pipes up. "I appreciate the sense of caution and being careful, but if the rest of the team is anything like me, folks are going to need more rest than that. 2 hour shifts are rough of folks. I suggest we rely on the resources we have, such as spirits and agents, as well as physical security to get as much solid rest as we can. I think we can trust our tools to do their jobs so that we can recover from the rather difficult time we've had. We all need rest so we can deal with the shitstorm that's invariably coming our way. Just my two cents. I'll follow your lead if you feel strongly on the issue."
Doc goes back to finish another slice and grabs a beer. Once the discussion winds down, he, Chino and Sam will deal with the rover.
"I'm with Doc on this one. These houses aren't made to withstand a siege, and if more of what we've seen is what's coming, having 1 extra person on watch isn't going to do much good. We need to get back to 100% capacity, or something close to it, as soon as possible, so we can figure out our next steps. I say we keep 1 person on watch for 2 hour shifts. Doc, can you get the motion-sensor lights back online for the house's perimeter, and get the security feeds to all the trids in the house? Also, there's a pretty good chance, there's a panic room in this place, so let's check the bookcases and picture frames after we've had some sleep. Sam, Ace says turning to the troll, "I know my limitations, and right now my limitations are a lack of sleep, and a generally fragged to hell intellect, so I need to know from you if I'm missing anything here. Let's talk unwired security. They can't hack a beer bottle on the door knobs, so let's get those set up. The knob turns, the bottle breaks, and even if our sentry has missed it, or the feeds have been compromised, we'll get a second or two of early warning. Next, I say those of us sleeping keep to the ground floor for an easier exit, should it come to that. Sentry duty should be on the second floor, overlooking the street. We've got a pretty good view from up there. Whoever's watching needs to keep a log of vehicles coming and going. I'll take first watch, unless someone wants to fight me for it. If so, it's a fight I'll throw."
She looks to Ace. "Whatever you need to make the house secure, let me know. I'll help however I can."
Ace turns to Katsina, not really sure if he has the language to answer her question adequately. "Can you do "Watcher Spirits," I think they're called? If so, we could certainly use some near the back door. I think anyone who finds out we're here will be initially coming from the road, but if we miss the initial approach, they're likely to breach from the rear."
"Lastly, it might be a good idea to leave as little trace as possible" He looks at the empty boxes of frozen pizza and makes a shopping list so that they can be replaced on the next trip to town. "If Mr. Johnson never realizes we were here, then the authorities, or our pursuers, won't scour the place for DNA and evidence. It'll make clean-up easier and allow us the option of not having to send up a flare by burning this place. Or they might find us here anyway and it's all for nothing, but I'd like to leave the option open. We'll call that plan A."
"We can't go burning everything we touch, and we'll just leave a trail of ash to wherever we're heading next. I say we make this look like a corp kid with a deck decided to throw a party at the empty house on the block. That means pizza boxes and empty beer bottle everywhere. We can rummage through some drawers while we're at it, and see if this guy has a humidor, or some nicsticks somewhere we can pilfer. Other than that, once we've all had some sleep we need to talk about how we're going to move forward. I'll be honest, right now I don't know how I can trust the people in this room, but I know I need to if I'm going to survive this."
With that, Ace turns the wireless functionality off on all of his gear -- save the commlink which he has running silent -- and waits for the others to respond before he goes about rechecking the interior of the house before light's out.
-
Katsina thinks things over. She hasn't heard of the beer bottle trick but it makes a certain amount of sense.
"Yes, I can do watcher spirits, but they require a magical lodge and an offering. Reagents. I have reagents but in limited quantities.
"I also have a spell that will tell me if anyone with harmful intent approached within a quarter kilometer. I should be able to catch anyone who turns up Stillwater Avenue looking for us. Covers all directions at once, including up. That's more effective than a watcher and less expensive too." She looks to Ohanzee to back her up on this.
"I can take the first shift. Even the first two. I'll pass off to Ohanzee in time for sunrise."
-
"I also have a spell that will tell me if anyone with harmful intent approached within a quarter kilometer. I should be able to catch anyone who turns up Stillwater Avenue looking for us. Covers all directions at once, including up. That's more effective than a watcher and less expensive too." She looks to Ohanzee to back her up on this.
"I'll defer to your expertise here," Ace says, nodding slowly. "If you want the first watch, I'm fine with that as well. Let's get these doors rigged, and the security feeds up, and I'll feel ready for some sleep."
Ace pulls a beer from the fridge, and drains it on his way to the front door. If anything, a little alcohol will help him sleep better with the adrenaline still wrecking havoc on his system.
-
"I'll need a few minutes to reset the security for the house. Let's deal with the rover first then we'll get the grids running. Then I'm going to sleep the sleep of the dead."
-
Ohanzee listens as each person comments on his plan, chewing his third piece of pizza thoughtfully. He was enjoying it, noting that for a soy product, it was pretty good.
After Doc says his piece, he replies "I was keeping the sentry shifts short so that it would be easier for people to keep sharp, and give everybody at least six hours of sleep, but you are right - the middle shifts can be rough. breaking the sleep cycle in two. I'll defer to your judgement as far as what coverage of the Matrix and Meat space the Agent can provide, but the only spirit we have is providing concealment, not overwatch. If our pursuers should see through the veil, we have nothing that will alert us to their arrival."
After Chino's comment, he replies "The spirit is here until the sun comes up. Again, it will help keep us hidden - Raven loves to frustrate people with tricks and hiding things gets him a lot of mileage, but it works both ways. He is a difficult spirit, and would feel demeaned if I were to ask him to keep lookout as well." Not to mention, I barely got him to agree to the concealment. It's unlikely he'd do anything else for me.
To Katsina, "If Doc is confident in his Agent, then you and Chino and I are the only ones that can really add to our overwatch by keeping an eye on the Astral. Warding the crate makes sense, and I have some reagents to assist with. A lodge is cheap and easy, but if you have something more powerful at your disposal, I'll help however I can." Binding a spirit would be great, but I don't have enough reagents for anything worthwhile. He added "More Reagents" to his shopping list, then put a question mark after it. I'd need a lot more money that I have to get enough reagents to bind anything decent. Something tickled the depths of his mind, not so much a voice as an innate knowledge that binding wasn't really something he was comfortable with. I seem to know an awful lot about it for a skill I don't use. He let the train of thought die there, listening to Ace provide his input. Katsina responds, then Ohanzee provides his input.
"I know the house isn't the most defensible position we could wish for, but if we can do anything to buy us precious seconds if the bad guys come calling, it could be the difference between escaping to fight another day or becoming a well ventilated corpse. Booby traps, chokepoints, knowing where the most bullet resistant cover is, clearing sight-lines, and having a clear escape route are all critical parts to making a house a home" he paused "-base. I think you've got the idea with bringing the motion sensors online and the bottle trick" Ohanzee was impressed with that one, MacGyvering everyday objects was the kind of thing that they'd need to get this place ready for whatever unexpected guests might make an appearance over the next few days. "As for the corp kid diversion, it's certainly easier than cleaning up every trace of our presence, but I'd think such an occurrence would still be reported to the authorities and the Star'd tear the place apart looking for forensic evidence in order to nail the brat. I'm not sure it solves our problem, but police procedure isn't my forte. However, if we can make it look like it was his boss's kid, or someone else he wouldn't dare report to the police, that could work quite handily."
"A watcher spirit is expensive, and I'd rather just have one of us keep on astral lookout. I'm not completely familiar with your spell, or what it considers harm. For example, a nosy neighbor that doesn't wish to harm us, but decides to report our presence to the cops. Or an advance scout that has no intention of engaging us, but will be alerting his compatriots to our location. These are things that I don't know we'd be alerted to from the spell, but they are certainly things that would be of interest to us. Considering you need to stay awake to maintain the spell, I think that should be sufficient as long as you supplement the spell with frequent peeps into the Astral. And I have no objection to you taking the first shift for as long as you feel capable. It makes sense - your spell is already up and there isn't much I could add besides the spirit that's already here."
"So it seems that my original plan is sound with the change that only Katsina and I will be taking guard shifts. Get your tasks done and get some sleep. I don't expect this day to get any less eventful than it already has been."
He realizes that his pizza is gone and his water glass empty. And just as suddenly, the effects of a full stomach set in, causing him to almost fall off his chair as his mind skirts the edge of unconsciousness. He forces him back to waking, thinks about grabbing a caffeinated beverage, thinks better of it, and waits to see if anyone else speaks up. He's already plotting his course to the upstairs sleeping loft before anyone has a chance to speak and has to force himself to stay in his chair until the impromptu meeting breaks up.
-
Chino manages to keep awake long enough to hear everyone's point of view. Seems like he has to wait for Uncle Sam to get ready with the pyrotechnics, and then he will send the Rover to it's death. Well, as much as a vehicle can experience death. Damn, it's hard to think when you're tired.
Chino sits still a little longer. A part of Chino urges him, Come on, stay awake. Once we get rid of the Rover, you can sleep. It's not long before another part of his brain replies Yeah right, something will come up that keeps you awake. The first part speaks up again, So stay awake to stay alive! Damn it, Chino does not go out without a fight!
Chino puts his head in his hands, completely oblivious to the fact that he seems to be hearing voices in his head. He must be really damn tired.
-
@Team
As you spend more time in the house, you begin to think of it more as an expansive cabin. While it has been updated with modern amenities, the construction suggests that it's not the newest house on the block. The art style is best described as "kitsch Western". There are carved wooden figures around the house - bears, wolves, mountain lions, things like that - which Katsina looks at closely when she has the time. (In the office upstairs there's an erotic bronze statue of a naked lady, which Katsina pays less attention to.) There are even some animal heads hanging on the walls, including elk, moose, and a mountain goat. The furniture is older than you would expect a rich corper to own. Above the mantle you find some old family photographs. You can identify Mr. Moran easily, his wide, moon-like face being prominent even as a boy. He stands with his father, holding a fish and a reel proudly, his eyes squinting behind thick glasses with transition lenses.
@Ace
While clearing the master bedroom downstairs, you come across a safe. It is not large - maybe 30cm high, deep, and wide. After ensuring that the rooms are clear, you inspect it more closely. It is next to one side of the bed, barely concealed. The face of the safe has a tumbler on it. Your fingers tingle reflexively and you remember that you have some experience with these. Kneeling next to the bed, you find that the safe is very old, maybe even an antique. You wonder if it dates from the days when Aspen was a silver-mining town. Turning the combination dial, the old drive pins practically vibrate like harp strings when they contact the wheel flies. Your hypersensitive fingers have no trouble picking up the wheels and you open the safe in six seconds flat.
You look around for someone to show off to. You see Katsina standing at the door with a hunting rifle she clearly knows nothing about. You turn back to the safe. Inside, you find some very old sepia photographs. There are also two handguns - one revolver and one semi-automatic - both of them old. There's also an old flag of the USA, tightly folded. That would not be welcome around here.
@Uncle Sam
Katsina shows you the rifle, which you identify as a Pioneer 60. These guns are made in the CAS but aren't sold in the NAN because the owner of the company never quite accepted the Treaty of Denver. Having one here in the PCC would be a poke in the eye to a lot of the locals. Reviewing the handguns, you recognize two famous models. The revolver is a Smith & Wesson Model 10. The classic cowboy gun, it fits perfectly with the house's decor. The semi-automatic gun is a Colt M1911. Inspecting them, they are both well-cared for and in firing condition. They would probably be worth something to a collector, or could serve as home security in a pinch.
You look through the ammo that was found. The flechette rounds are for the hunting rifle. The regular rounds and the hollow points are for the handguns. The hollow points make you raise an eyebrow. You remember that they are forbidden in the PCC, where they are FORBIDDEN in big, quavering letters. The cops here will not take kindly to illegal ammo of any sort. You make a mental note regarding your APDS. Oh, and your 'nades too.
-
Once the home has been secured, Sam stays on Ohanzee's heels silently awaiting orders. He's starting to get tired and he knows he's still got a few hours worth of work to do before he can get any sleep. First, he must deal with burning all the evidence out of the rover, then he'll need to get to work locking this place down to the point he feels comfortable sleeping here at all. He's in the garage, lifting up the can of gasoline to bring it out to the vehicle when he gets a message on his comm that makes everything else seem trivial.
<<<@Team [Doc] Foods up, cooker will send a message once its ready. Hope everyone likes frozen pizza.>>>
---------------------------------------
Ten minutes later, the interior of the rover is drenched in gas and Sam has headed back inside, taken his armor jacket off and washed his hands thoroughly. He's the last to enter the kitchen for pizza and he stays silent for most of the discussion, his mind still swimming with abstract ideas of morality and identity mixed with very concrete ideas like explosive payloads and blasting cap timers.
"Doc, Chino, the rover is yours once Sam gives the go ahead. The sooner we can be rid of it, the better. Sam, coordinate with Ace - some fireworks might be useful in the event of a breach. Kat, you and I will assist however needed, though if you have any ideas for toys that might be useful, get those made." His gaze falls on Katsina's collection of throwing knives as he speaks the last part. "Any thoughts on how to proceed after we've rested up are welcome. We've been in frantic survival mode for as long as I can remember" he smiles at the joke "and I'm not sure I am aware of all of our options now that we have some time to sit and think."
"I have a good mind to booby trap the main entrances with explosives. Should I?"
He glances around, everyone else seems to be doing the same thing; barely keeping themselves awake. Even Ohanzee seems burnt out. "How long do we have for the spirit to hang around? I'm dead tired right now, and I'm not even sure I could make a two hour shift. I'm not sure anyone else here can either, but if anyone wants to volunteer, be my guest."
"If I'm to set everything up properly, I'll be awake for quite some time, but I'll be in no frame of mind to be a lookout."
"Sunrise is at 07:15," she says factually. "That's less than five hours from now. The forecast is for light snow until 10:00, then cold and cloudy the rest of the day. Any tracks we make after that won't be covered up." She glances around to see if the tired brains understand.
"I feel okay. A little slow from the spellcasting" - you're not sure if she means drain or the spell she is sustaining, maybe both - "but I can make it to sunrise. Ohanzee, you're the most banged up out of all of us. You can crash until then and then take over with a spirit while I sleep. But I imagine it's going to be a full day or two before you and Doc are fully recovered."
She looks at Ohanzee. "If we're going to be here a while, you and I could ward the room with the crate. That will take hours to do properly, so maybe leave that for tomorrow. Later today, I mean."
Sam doesn't respond when she speaks. He just uses the time to eat more and to nod his head in agreement with her.
"They can't hack a beer bottle on the door knobs, so let's get those set up. The knob turns, the bottle breaks, and even if our sentry has missed it, or the feeds have been compromised, we'll get a second or two of early warning. Next, I say those of us sleeping keep to the ground floor for an easier exit, should it come to that. Sentry duty should be on the second floor, overlooking the street. We've got a pretty good view from up there. Whoever's watching needs to keep a log of vehicles coming and going. I'll take first watch, unless someone wants to fight me for it. If so, it's a fight I'll throw."
Sam chuckles a tiny bit then closes his mouth as he's still chewing and he doesn't want to be rude. "Oh, I think I'll leave them quite more than a bottle."
"Lastly, it might be a good idea to leave as little trace as possible" He looks at the empty boxes of frozen pizza and makes a shopping list so that they can be replaced on the next trip to town. "If Mr. Johnson never realizes we were here, then the authorities, or our pursuers, won't scour the place for DNA and evidence. It'll make clean-up easier and allow us the option of not having to send up a flare by burning this place. Or they might find us here anyway and it's all for nothing, but I'd like to leave the option open. We'll call that plan A."
"We can't go burning everything we touch, and we'll just leave a trail of ash to wherever we're heading next. I say we make this look like a corp kid with a deck decided to throw a party at the empty house on the block. That means pizza boxes and empty beer bottle everywhere. We can rummage through some drawers while we're at it, and see if this guy has a humidor, or some nicsticks somewhere we can pilfer. Other than that, once we've all had some sleep we need to talk about how we're going to move forward. I'll be honest, right now I don't know how I can trust the people in this room, but I know I need to if I'm going to survive this."
"As for the corp kid diversion, it's certainly easier than cleaning up every trace of our presence, but I'd think such an occurrence would still be reported to the authorities and the Star'd tear the place apart looking for forensic evidence in order to nail the brat. I'm not sure it solves our problem, but police procedure isn't my forte. However, if we can make it look like it was his boss's kid, or someone else he wouldn't dare report to the police, that could work quite handily."
Sam stands at the counter, eating his pizza and listening to the two debate the different plans. He isn't sure which one he likes better, so he stays quiet on this one. He'll trust whatever the dwarf wants to do, and he hopes the dwarf knows it. For about the millionth time, he considers firing off a message to whoever this "Mom" contact of his might be, but for the same million reasons as before, decides against it.
"How about I drive the Rover down to the cliff, light it up, push it over, and walk back?" He shrugs. "I mean, yes. It's cold, but it's not THAT cold. I'll be fine. What is it? Six miles?"
----------------------
Once the pizza is done and the team begins going their separate ways for their various tasks, Katsina approaches Sam with a few firearms found in the house, asking what he knows about them. It's immediately obvious to him that whoever the owner is knows a thing or two about guns. He tells the masked woman what he knows about them.
-
"I have a good mind to booby trap the main entrances with explosives. Should I?"
"That's a great idea. Get the most probable breach points before turning in, then finish up after we've had some rest."
"Oh, I think I'll leave them quite more than a bottle."
>> @Sam: Coordinate with Ace there. We all want to get some rest, so in the interests of time, we might want to reign in the boom until we've had some sleep. But once we've slept, I'll back you on as much 'surprise' as you think appropriate.
"How about I drive the Rover down to the cliff, light it up, push it over, and walk back?" He shrugs. "I mean, yes. It's cold, but it's not THAT cold. I'll be fine. What is it? Six miles?"
"You know your limits, so that works for me, and it doesn't look like Chino's likely to complain about being able to turn in early. Any sort of excursion like that should have two people for better situational awareness and tactical diversity. It's soaked in gas, so we could just drive it off the cliff and see if it takes care of itself. If not, I can send a spirit at sunrise."
Ohanzee thinks for a second. An idea strikes him. "We have a number of guns we don't need anymore. Anything with a smartgun link we could fire remotely. That could easily give us the spark we need to ignite the gas."
-
Doc finishes his pizza, feeling significantly better and grabs a beer and heads to the office to jack in. "I wonder why we still call it "Jacking In", my deck is already in my arm and with the new protocols it's all wireless. Not much "jacking" anymore...." He shakes hes head to mentally clear the cob webs, he must be exhausted if his thoughts are wandering like that. Back to the task at hand, while running silent he checks the area and orders his Agent to keep an eye on the area for any new devices entering the area while also running silently.
<<<@Chino,Sam [Doc] I'm ready to do this when you boys are. Chino if you want to run this remotely I can keep you covered, otherwise I'll watch your backs from here if there are any incoming.>>>
-
Everyone seems to be setting off to do their final tasks during the night. I guess I don't get to sleep yet.
As Sam finishes up the explosives, Chino heads to the garage to check for some transport. He finds a snowmobile that seems like it might fit two people, but Uncle Sam is a troll. It will have to do.
<<<@Chino,Sam [Doc] I'm ready to do this when you boys are. Chino if you want to run this remotely I can keep you covered, otherwise I'll watch your backs from here if there are any incoming.>>>
<<@Doc, Uncle Sam [Chino] Less chance of a frag up if we just go there. You ready, Sam? There's a snowmobile in the garage that should make the trip faster.>>
And I also don't want to be in that fragging cold that long. The Russian might be unaffected, but I'm not.
Sam quickly meets him in the garage. Seems like he finished before Chino had even sent the message. Impressive.
<<@Doc [Chino] All right, we're set to go.>>
The garage quietly opens before them; presumably Doc was controlling it. "All right, you ready?" Uncle Sam nods, and they both start pushing the snowmobile towards where they ditched the Rover. Neither one talks much, they work in silence. When they reach the Rover, Chino turns to Uncle Sam. "Let's get this thing in here, we'll pull it back out once we get rid of the Rover. On 3?" Chino positions himself to lift the snowmobile; Sam does the same. "1, 2, 3!" They both lift on queue and the snowmobile barely fits into the Rover. Chino pushes on it to make sure it's snug. Turning to Uncle Sam, he says, "It's in. Let's move, shall we?"
Chino gets into the driver's seat, while Sam, with his explosives, rides shotgun. Chino breathes a sigh of relief as the Rover comes back on. He wasn't sure that it would. He backs out of the makeshift cove that they were in, and headed towards the cliff.
The ride was rather uneventful for the first 3 minutes. Chino turned a corner, and right in front of him was a fragging deer! Or elk! Whatever the hell it was, it was in his way. With a grunt, Chino quickly swerved right, only for the deer thing to jump in front of him. The cold must have really woken him up, because without blinking an eye, he managed to reverse direction and swerve left, away from the deer. Looking in the mirror, the deer was running in the opposite direction. He turned to his right and saw Uncle Sam looking at him like he was a lunatic. Chino grins widely, "Don't worry, just a small problem. Nothing I can't handle."
Uncle Sam shakes his head, but otherwise doesn't complain.
3 minutes later, Chino pulled the Rover alongside a cliff. All right, this should be a good place to get rid of it. Removing the key from the ignition, Chino gets out of the Rover. Sam does the same. "You know the drill, let's get this thing out of here." Looking in the back, they both get a grip on the snowmobile. "1, 2, 3!" With a little work, they manage to pull it out of the van. Chino moves it off to the side, and returns to find Sam unloading the explosives. "It's your show now. Tell me what you need me to do."
-
Sam has his goggles on and they're utterly crammed full of schematics, equations, payload diameters, and various info detailing architecture and explosives. Hes putting the final touches on a trap that should utterly shred anyone coming though the backdoor, using a nasty little push trigger underneath the doormat outside when he gets a message from Doc and Chino. It seems they're ready to begin the disposal of the rover.
<<<@Chino,Sam [Doc] I'm ready to do this when you boys are. Chino if you want to run this remotely I can keep you covered, otherwise I'll watch your backs from here if there are any incoming.>>>
<<@Doc, Uncle Sam [Chino] Less chance of a frag up if we just go there. You ready, Sam? There's a snowmobile in the garage that should make the trip faster.>>
He minimizes all of his windows and responds <<@Chino [Uncle Sam] Meet you there.>> After meeting the ork and loading up the snowmobile, the two of them make the drive in silence, both a little too uncomfortable to speak. We're supposed to be friends. Why don't I feel anything for him? Probably the same reason I didn't feel anything for the one we lost. Or the same reason i don't feel much of anything at all, really. As his thoughts start to meander toward existential type pursuits, rather than the task at hand, he's quickly jerked back into reality by the swerving of the rover to avoid a deer. Chino makes an excuse and some sort of light hearted comment and Sam, not knowing if he'll ever be presented with a better target, decides to use it as an opportunity to have a conversation with him. He really has no idea what he'd like to say, and perhaps a bit surprisingly, he hears himself blurt out in a gruff, matter of fact sort of tone, "I think we were planning to destroy that thing in the box back there before everything went south." Chino doesn't respond just gives him the strangest look, and really, what is there to say after something like that, anyway?
Once the rover comes to a stop, Sam opens his door, and hoping to maybe rekindle the conversation, adds "I have the feeling like maybe we should continue with that plan." Chino is a bit confused, but maintains the attitude of a pro.
"It's your show now. Tell me what you need me to do."
Pulling the collar of his jacket up around him as the two of them stand in the whirling wind and snow, he says "Just leave it in neutral and help me push once I light it." With that, he steps up into the vehicle one last time to empty out the contents of the spare gas can he found in the garage earlier, making sure to get all the walls, all the electrical contact points, inside the bathroom, and all the places where hands might have touched. Having spent the contents of the can, he hops back down out of the bullet ridden blood box, still holding the empty can in his left hand. With his other hand, he strikes a match against his horn, using the collar of the jacket as a windshield, drops the match into the empty can, and tosses the can into the open door of the rover. "OK! PUSH!" He bellows as he sprints through the snow around to the rear, where Chino heaves mightily against it. With the two of them working together, it goes over with only a modest amount of work.
Thirty seconds later, the two are on the snowmobile, headed back to the hideout. Sam sits behind Chino on the large explorer type vehicle with his arms wrapped around his waist. He can tell Chino finds the situation slightly funny, but Sam doesn't really get it.
-
Ohanzee headed upstairs to the loft. It was out of everyone’s way and therefore quieter than any other room in the house. He passed the bathroom and contemplated a shower, but decided against it. I can do that in the morning. LATER in the morning, he reminded himself. The bed there seemed comfortable, and Ohanzee threw himself on it. Sleep came swiftly.
As did the dreams.
“This is a terrible idea. Why are we here again?” The troll - Ohanzee recognized him as Sam - looked down grumpily at the dwarf.
“There will be tanks.” Ohanzee answered simply. The troll was obviously not satisfied with the answer, but kept his rebuttal to himself. The crowds were thick, predominantly Orkish. There were many rallies like these lately, Ork rights movements being back in vogue after some thing happened somewhere not too long ago. Ohanzee really didn’t keep up on such things and while he sympathized with the plight of the Orks - having been on the receiving end of any number of racial hostilities himself - he was not really the rally going type.
The pair continued pushing through the crowd, Sam leading the way - the dwarf was small, and felt even smaller among the throngs of Orks. But Sam stood out even among the large metahumans comprising the majority of the crowd.
Finally, Sam could contain his impatience with the dwarf’s maddening vagueness no longer. “But WHY must you see the tanks?”
“It’s a magic thing. I’ll explain it to you later.” Ohanzee had a tendency to play the “It’s magic - you wouldn’t understand” card and it infuriated Sam, but he knew better than to presume that the dwarf was wrong. Sam didn’t understand magic. Until he’d met Ohanzee, he’d never even seen REAL magic, as opposed to the drek on the trids. He was learning. Ohanzee would never admit it, but Sam picked up things rather quickly for a “stupid troll”.
So Sam accepted the answer and continued forging his way through the crowd. “They’ll arrive on the southeast side - that’s the direction of the nearest Star compound and they’re lazy enough to just take the direct route. If you want your front row seat to the police brutality show, that’s where you’ll get it.”
Ohanzee’s perspective shifted a few minutes forward. He and Sam were behind a low wall away from the bulk of the crowd. The sirens and megaphones of the Lone Star riot squad could be heard. The low rumble of heavy tracked vehicles was unmistakable, and quite close.
“Just hang out here. I’ll only be a minute.” Before Sam could object, Ohanzee cast a spell and vanished from sight.
“I still think this is a terrible idea.” Upon not hearing a response, Sam sighed. “And I’m talking to myself because you aren’t here.” Just around the corner of the makeshift cover Sam heard a small snigger and the crunch of Ohanzee’s boots as he walked as silently as his graceless body could carry him towards the approaching column of riot police.
Again, Ohanzee jumped forward a few minutes in time. He was standing next to one of the tanks - the lead one in the formation. A uniformed Lone Star lackey was speaking into a megaphone from the open hatch atop the tank. Ohanzee was ignoring him, instead studying the details of the large machine. He could have gone to some weapon expo he supposed, but the security there was tight, and someone like him would stick out. Getting noticed by the authorities was not the sort of thing that was conducive to his chosen profession.
Ohanzee heard a commotion in the crowd and turned idly to see what was happening. He almost lost his focus on his spell when he saw an ork sprinting across the pavement towards the tank Ohanzee was inspecting. The line of officers with riot shields standing at the head of the column shifted position to meet the charge, but at the last minute the ork leaped onto a post jutting from the ground and leaped from it onto an I-beam bent to a 30 degree angle, ran up the length and - Ohanzee almost missed it - ran along the side of the I-beam near the top so that his jump took him to the side of a crumbling concrete column for his final jump to the tank - sailing over at least 12 feet (and 6 feet vertically) of space and surprised goons. Ohanzee had a weird sensation. He knew that ork - had awoken with him in the van hours ago, but somehow, at this moment, the ork was a stranger he’d never met, and it wasn’t just the missing tattoo around his eyes.
The ork landed directly on the chest of the loudspeaker wielder atop the tank, taking the breath out of him and likely breaking more than a few ribs. The man crumpled, and the ork followed his body down the hatch and into the tank. The unmistakable sounds of melee combat followed. The crowd, buoyed by the spectacle, surged forward.
“Time to go. NOW!” came Sam’s voice over the DNI link. Ohanzee was shaken from his awe and began moving back toward the wall where Sam was hidden. He could not disagree.
While he moved, he called out to a beast spirit he’d summoned earlier in case things got out of hand. If the ork in that metal box survives, see that he gets safely to me. The jump had been amazing - certainly inhuman - and Ohanzee had barely had the presence of mind to observe the ork in the astral before he vanished into the tank. His aura was unmistakably awakened, but in a way Ohanzee had only seen during live sporting events, which he frequented rarely due to cost and security measures. An adept.
Certainly someone useful to know.
The whole scene changed. This wasn’t just a few minute jump, but days - or longer.
Sam and he were in a building. Music, loud and thumping, was nearby, only slightly muted by the intervening walls. The back of a club?
“I don’t like being unarmed.” Sam said.
“You are a troll. You are dangerous no matter what you are carrying.” The troll smiled slightly, but his demeanor didn’t change.
“Look who’s talking. I’m not even sure why you bother carrying that artillery piece. It’s practically as big as you.”
“Geek the mage. It helps to not look all wiggly fingered.”
“‘Point.”
“But still, they are running late. Makes me nervous. Late Johnsons are usually double-crossing Johnsons.”
“Early Johnsons are usually double-crossing Johnsons.”
“Ah, yeah. Good times.” Ohanzee studied the wall that had the least junk in front of it. After a second, he cast a spell.
“What are you doing?” Sam asked, but before Ohanzee could answer, the Johnson entered the room, followed by two goons. Unsurprisingly, they were packing - armed for troll. The Johnson’d probably bribed the bouncers to let them keep their weapons.
“Where is the item?” Johnson asked cooly.
“Where’s our nuyen?” Sam replied menacingly. It was obvious how this was going to go, but the parts still had to be played.
“No matter” Mr. Johnson brought up his commlink. “I can track it. Boys.” The two goons raised their guns toward the duo. Ohanzee laughed. “What’s so funny?” the Johnson spat.
“You brought guns…”
“Observant. But I fail to see the humor.”
“You brought guns.” A low rumble could be heard on the other side of the wall Ohanzee had been studying earlier. “To a tank fight.”
The wall exploded as the tank crashed through it, sending brick and metal everywhere. The gunport on the front slid open and a large rifle barrel slid out and aimed toward the Johnson and his entourage. They panicked and ran from the room.
But Sam had been in motion as soon as the tank came through the wall. He caught the Johnson and hurled him bodily into the room, through the illusion of the tank, and slammed the door shut. He locked it.
The Johnson was discombobulated from the impact with the solid and very whole wall. The tank and the destruction vanished as Ohanzee dropped the illusion.
“You didn’t answer my question. Where.” Sam hauled the man up to his feet with one hand. “Is.” He moved his face inches from the frightened exec. “Our.” He applied more pressure to the man’s chest, tearing the tailored suit and making it difficult for him to breathe. “Nuyen?”
-
As Chino and Sam make their way to the rover, Doc and his Agent are scouring the locale in the Matrix for any sign of obvservers. Just as they get to the cliff a ghost of an image appears high above the scene. Doc pulls his Sherlock attire back out and wisps over there as fast as possible. Finally he finds it! The image of a corporate knight riding a beautiful hovering dog comes into focus 100 meters above the road. A Cyberspace Designs Dalmatian appears to be snooping the path to Aspen. Between the Spirit and Noise it seems like they didn't notice anything untoward happening and the drone continues on towards the town.
"Hrm, blind as a bat... But bats can still percieve. Lets make sure they didn't see anything and maybe find out a bit more about our hunters here."
Doc ditches the Sherlock gear and out comes his scalple and lab coat. As he quietly sneaks up on the drone to put his mark on it he hits virtual turbulence and stumbles, slicing open his drawers and exposing himself rather embarssingly to the drone. The rigger slaps his mark on Doc's exposed buttocks! HOW RUDE! Blinking away the disbelief at his unbarably bad luck, he quickly shakes his bare virtual ass at the drone while letting loose an impressive array of explitives! Pulling up his pants, he goes full bore at the drone!
<<<@Agent [Doc] Attack this drone, get it on the ground!>>>
The Agent slams headfirst into the Knight, but fails to find any purchase and skitters off to the side. It's enough to distract the rigger as he makes sure the drone stays aloft. The Agent comes back for another attack, this time more aggresively, which was a mistake. The Agent impales himself on the armor of the knight and Docs deck starts to beep in alarm. Doc attempts to remove the mark from his ass before anyone can get another on him to find his location, but is having trouble finding exactly where on his ass it ended up. Deciding that it's better to get the drone on the ground at this point he changes tactics and makes a strategic incision on the Dalmation and leaves two marks glowing there for him to see. Smiling widely, Doc knows he has the means to find or ground the drone now! The Agent comes back for another run on the Knight, but just doesn't seem to be getting how this works and nearly knocks himself out on the rigger's armor. Doc's arm starts to crackle and hiss as components start to fail. Thinking quickly, Doc takes his scalple and stabs it directly into the Knight's eye!
And he vanishes. Gone from the Matrix. Doc curses again.
"Damn, he took dumpshock over getting discovered. Must have been desperate. I wonder if the boys can find that on their way back."
Doc quickly checks himself for any more marks before returning to running silently and keeping an eye on the team.
<<<@Chino,Sam [Doc] We had a visitor looking for us, he's gone now. They probably know we are somewhere near Aspen, but I don't think they know exactly where. Be careful on your way back to the house and keep an eye out for a crashed Cyberspace Designs Dalmatian. It could have some useful information in it. Don't go out of your way for it, but if you see it, lets bring it back.>>>
<<<@Team [Doc] Looks like they were looking for us in Aspen. I spotted a Cyberspace Designs Dalmatian snooping along the road to Aspen. May have gotten a little too tricky on it and ended up having to crash it. KE probably knows we are somewhere in/near Aspen but doesn't have any more info than that at this point. Keep sharp.>>>
-
After the midnight snack concludes, Katsina jumps into action. She grabs the empty beer bottles and beer cans and takes them to the sink to rinse out. She pauses for a moment, as if realizing there's a better way to do this, and then casts Magic Fingers. She glows for a moment at the casting before it fades. One by one the dishes fly off the table to her, where she has them marching under a stream of water in the sink. Faster than you can say bippity boppity boo there are floating sponges and soap bubbles. The domestic applications of magic are remarkable indeed.
Katsina is either openly ignoring or utterly oblivious to the Siemens-Nixdorf speedMatic dishwater just a meter away. The cleaning seems to come naturally to her, as if it is an ingrained habit or ritual. She doesn't question it, doesn't complain, doesn't look for any help. She kicks away a small drone that presents itself to assist, before relenting and allowing it to vacuum up the crumbs underneath the table and then polish the floor. Within minutes she has the oven, counters, and tables washed and cleaned, with the bottles and cans ready for recycling.
Having completed the domestic duties, she looks around for what to do next. She has to visibly restrain herself from making a fire in the fireplace. The house is plenty warm but making a fire seems like another reflexive habit. Still, she knows that the smoke would be a glaring slip-up, especially at this time of night. Instead she goes to make sure that all the beds have plenty of blankets, despite the house now being a comfortable temperature. Doc and Ace don't seem to need her help, and Ohanzee is already asleep. She sits down for a moment to slip into the astral and spin around the house, but that only takes a few moments. Then she's back on her feet looking for something else to do.
She catalogs the contents of the kitchen, including the pantry and the freezer, then pokes her mask into the garage to see what might be in there. Flipping through the drawers and shelves, she comes across a well-loved whittling knife. She pulls it out of its short scabbard, admires it, then flicks it around her fingers. She takes it back into the house and selects a piece of aspen with few knots and a straight grain from the pile of firewood. With her spell active, she sets herself up on the second floor with a good view of the windows. She carves absentmindedly, dropping the shavings into a waste bin, while she keeps watch and waits for Sam and Chino to come home.
-
While Sam and Doc go to give the Rover a hero's burial, Ace busies himself by scrounging anything useful for his booby-traps from the garage. A couple rolls of tape, a few pin nails, and two spools of fishing line later, and Ace is back in the kitchen snatching bottles off the counter as Katsina washes them. The doors are easy, all he needs is a little balance with the bottles, and should anyone turn the knob or push the door forward, and they'll come crashing down. The windows are another matter. He anchors the pin nails in the molding, two on each side near the bottom, and a third and forth on the top strip of molding, and then he runs the line around each nail and loops it around a beer bottle on a nearby table. Anything comes through this window, and crash! he thinks, pleased with the work.
Back in the kitchen, Ace empties out as many cans of energy drink as he can find, noting that Katsina is nearly done with her work. With the tape, Ace wraps up the aluminum cans to the tune of a half roll a piece, and then uses his hand razors to cut off the top. Should Ace decide to fill these with his explosive of choice, the barrier won't hold, but at least it should direct a lot more of the energy outward. Thinking back to his design, Ace uses the rest of the tape facing outward on each can so that Sam can stick them wherever he'd like. He's not completely sold on the idea of using explosives in this neighborhood, or at least at this time, but he's not sure it's wise to be contrary at the moment either. A middling plan with a united team is certainly better than even a great plan and a divided front. And his bottle rigging is a far sight from a "great plan," to begin with.
Ace checks his comm, frowns, and looks to Katsina before sending off his own message. <<@Katsina [Ace] Well, our stay here may be short lived. We really need to compare notes.>>
-
Katsina stops carving for a second when the message from Ace comes through.
<<@Ace [Katsina] Let's talk now while we have some privacy. Sam and Chino are out. Doc is in VR and Ohanzee's asleep.>>
She stands up and leaves Doc in the VRing in the office and Ohanzee sleeping in the sleeping loft. She goes downstairs and waits for Ace in the dining room next to the kitchen, where they'll have a view of the back entrance and out the front-facing windows of the living room. She then whispers something to herself and takes off her mask, setting it on the table in front of her.
-
Katsina whispers something to herself and takes off her mask, setting it on the table in front of her.
It's strange, but for whatever reason Ace's eyes followed the mask down to its resting place before ticking up sharply to look Katsina straight in the face. And he was disarmed. The dark hair against her pale light skin, the high cheekbones, and the small angular eyes graying under the lack of sleep, she looked almost elven. She could probably pass for a teenager, but Ace pegged her for 22. And Hungarian. And he'd seen her before, like without the mask, he was sure of that.
"Alright Kat," he says, racking his hands across his eyes, then pauses. "Wait, you hate being called that, don't you?"
-
Katsina opens her mouth to say something, but the pauses at Ace's comment. She thinks on the question for a second, before shaking her head slightly. She speaks more slowly than she did at dinner. Despite her assurances, she's looking and acting much more tired than when she was cleaning the kitchen.
"No, I don't think I hate it. I don't have any recollection of using it before. As best I can tell, I thought of it an hour ago. I'm not even quite sure what my name is. I have a SIN with a name but I don't know if it is fake or not."
As Ace sits across from her, she holds something up. It's the piece of wood that she's been carving, which has taken the form of a small figurine. It looks like a peasant woman (http://0.tqn.com/y/goeasteurope/1/L/y/2/-/-/RomaniaWoodFigure.jpg) wearing a cloak and hood. The robe is decorated with geometric angles. The woman herself is simple and doesn't have a face. She holds it out to Ace.
"I want you to have this. Don't touch it yet. Let me put it in your jacket, or somewhere you can reach it. If you get into trouble, or a situation where there's danger - more danger than now, I mean - grab it. A spell will go off, a strong one. It will help you sense what's happening around you, even what you can't see. It will help keep you safe."
She gets up to put the figurine where Ace wants it. She then sees that Ace wants to text instead of talk, so she uses her other hand to put her mask back on so she can use DNI. She whispers to herself again. There's a small *click* from the mask, and then it's back in place.
-
Sam and Chino easily send the flaming Rover over the cliff. It's their second Viking funeral in as many hours if you count APB's send-off.
They are cold and tired. Business complete, they turn back to the Patrol Snowski. The prospect of a freezing drive back to house is not pleasant. It's already windy and being exposed on the moving vehicle is just going to make it that much worse as it speeds along. Chino takes the front position and Sam envelops him from behind.
They are only a few moments into their drive when their vision is interrupted by an exploding fireball about a hundred meters in front of them and thirty meters off the ground. Seconds later a transmission comes through from Doc:
<<<@Chino,Sam [Doc] We had a visitor looking for us, he's gone now. They probably know we are somewhere near Aspen, but I don't think they know exactly where. Be careful on your way back to the house and keep an eye out for a crashed Cyberspace Designs Dalmatian. It could have some useful information in it. Don't go out of your way for it, but if you see it, let's bring it back.>>>
Chino drives the Snowski forward. The drone appears to have crashed on a tall Aspen tree just to the side of the highway. The drone wreckage falls to the ground upside down in a burning heap. The desire to investigate it is offset by the knowledge that someone might come looking for it, or maybe for the survivors of the chopper you downed not long ago. Also, the fact that it is on fire is a deterrent.
-
<<<@Chino,Sam [Doc] We had a visitor looking for us, he's gone now. They probably know we are somewhere near Aspen, but I don't think they know exactly where. Be careful on your way back to the house and keep an eye out for a crashed Cyberspace Designs Dalmatian. It could have some useful information in it. Don't go out of your way for it, but if you see it, lets bring it back.>>>
<<@Doc, Sam [Chino] Yeah, we see it. It's right fragging next to us. And on fire. I don't think it's possible to bring it back.>>
Chino looks around to make sure nobody is watching. The position they are in is dangerously open and unconcealed. "Well, Sam, what do you think? I don't really think carrying back a flaming drone is a good idea. I don't know about just leaving it though."
He looks behind him and sees tracks. That's not going to help us.
He takes a closer look at the drone. "Actually, I'm not sure we have to worry about it. I don't think this thing is going to be functioning any time soon."
He turns back to Uncle Sam, and looks past him. "They must be pretty close, we better start covering our tracks. Any ideas?"
-
Ohanzee dreams...
The colors are amazing. Gold and blue and green, a sunset like you never see in the city where the smog leaves the sky a drab brown instead of the scintillating rainbow he was observing on the tropical beach as the greenish blue waves roared and crashed upon the shore. Salty air filled his lungs as he breathed in, and in seeming seconds the sky darkened into deep reds, then purples, and finally the deep blue of evening. In thermo, the world was alive wit color though - the water still a warm 27 degrees. The sand, cooling rapidly, was just over 25. The trees were cooler still. The humid air was around 22 though it felt cooler because of the breeze off of the ocean. Shifting to the astral, the rainforest the edged up to the beach was positively vibrant as nocturnal creatures stirred and went about their lives.
"The wireless here is crap" said a voice, and a man Ohanzee had sworn was not there a moment before, kicked at the sand on the beach. Ohanzee recognized him as Doc, née Crumpled.
Broken out of his reverie, Ohanzee began to panic as he could not recall where he was or what he was supposed to be doing. Which was just as well, as a dragon appeared overhead, thundering displeasure at the intrusion of mere mortals into its domain.
"Who disturbs my slumber?" roared the beast, its astral aura nearly blinding to the dwarf.
AROs lit up around the flying creature like the lights of Old Vegas. Or New Vegas, for that matter, though now it was all AROs rather than extravagant physical lights.
"We've got to move before that chopper comes round again! Can you distract them with an illusion?" Sam this time, and Ohanzee turned to see him crouched behind a burnt out car. Blood dripped from his leg onto the pavement. When Ohanzee looked, Doc was gone, along with the tropical beach. This was an inner city, probably Denver, and Ohanzee judged the temperature to be closer to 15 degrees. The dragon had been replaced by a helicopter, shockingly similar to the one used by the strike team mere hours ago. He looked back to Sam to ask if he had a plan only to find the burning wreckage of the chopper laying in the snow and trees off of the road to Aspen.
"Whatever you think you can do to me will pale in comparison to what they'll do to you when they find you." the prisoner from the strike team was at Ohanzee's feet, broken and battered but still defiant. Ohanzee was aiming his Warhawk at the man's head. The gun fired even though he had not pulled the trigger or willed it through his trodes. Time slowed as the back of the man's head exploded out onto the snow, brain and blood covering the pure white powder. The man's eyes were open, staring at Ohanzee. A soft breath - the last - escaped the man's lips as he fell, painfully slowly, to the ground. The stench of feces and urine wafted up from the body where the man had soiled himself as his muscles relaxed completely in death. Ohanzee recoiled from the horrific sight, distraught over the slaughter.
<<<@Team [Doc] Looks like they were looking for us in Aspen.
Doc was again next to him, this time fiddling with the remains of some sort of flying drone. It was still burning brightly, but it did not burn Doc. Ohanzee thought to caution him about the fire, but the flames suddenly died down, revealing the prone form of Ace. "They've been tracking us the whole time. It was in his body!" But instead of blood and gore, the mangled body was metal and wires.
"I didn't know" Ace said softly, his face a mix of revenge and apology.
We're tearing ourselves apart. Ohanzee looked up from Ace to see Katsina's astral form floating above him. Look at them!
Ohanzee looked ahead of him and found himself sitting at a table in the dining room of the house with the entire team gathered around it. "What do we do?" they all asked at once, the sort of disturbing effect that one gets when dealing with insect spirits. They stared, demanding he respond.
"I don't know." was all he could manage before waking up to the dark loft. He'd forgotten to turn off his trodes, and he checked the time finding that he'd dozed for only a couple hours. He caught up on the messages from his commlink and considered responding, but reflecting on the dream he paused.
Was his dream telling him that he was stressed out from having the team look to him for guidance? Maybe he should just go back to sleep, leave the team to their own devices for a little longer, not alert them to the fact that he was conscious. Procrastinate.
But he was a leader. He had extensive knowledge of the psychology of leadership, group dynamics, team management. He had an innate understanding of the social aspects of group hierarchy and encouraging people to build loyalty and follow orders. And if his earlier dream was to be believed, he had no qualms with taking the lead. The truth was, LEADING was not the problem. Or rather, it wasn't what scared him. In a flash he realized that what was eating at him was that he hadn't been leading, he had been directing.
The distinction was small, but integral to what makes a good leader. A leader's job isn't to make all of the decisions, or even the majority of them, it was to encourage those under you to reach their potential. It was to garner a cooperative atmosphere. It was to help them reach their own conclusions in their areas of expertise. Provide ideas, ask questions. But leave the decisions to those that have the most appropriate skill, and support them in what they decide. When faced with a problem, the best leaders won't start by handing down orders, they'll start by asking "what do you guys think?"
And so now he approached the decision of whether to respond to the messages he had read with a different perspective. Instead of fear of having to be the crutch, he had to decide whether the team even needed his input - from what he could see, they were handling things quite competently. Maybe a "good job, team?"
But he kept coming back to Doc's text. They are looking for us in Aspen. So the ruse failed. Not that he expected it would work, but he had hoped. We need a plan B to shake our pursuers - when they find the burned out rover, they'll concentrate their efforts here.
"Can you distract them with an illusion?" Sam's question from his dream surfaced. He hadn't known he could create illusions, but both of his dreams seemed to indicate that he could. The spell appeared in his mind - he DID know how to create them! But how could that throw them off our trail?
A good leader would start by asking the question.
>>@Team [Ohanzee]: I forgot to turn my trodes off. If anybody asks, I'm still sleeping, but I wanted to get your input on how to misdirect our pursuers - they're a little close and taking out the drone and burning the rover pretty much alerts them to us being in the vicinity. We need to throw them off our scent. Best I got is stealing another car and sending it on autopilot to another town. It gets reported stolen and found abandoned, maybe they put two and two together and think we switched vehicles. What do you guys think?
Ohanzee lays there and "listens" to the team discuss their options. His eyes are still heavy and before long he is drifting back to sleep. Just before he loses consciousness again, he wills the trodes offline so they will no longer disrupt his sleep.
-
<<<@Chino,Sam [Doc] We had a visitor looking for us, he's gone now. They probably know we are somewhere near Aspen, but I don't think they know exactly where. Be careful on your way back to the house and keep an eye out for a crashed Cyberspace Designs Dalmatian. It could have some useful information in it. Don't go out of your way for it, but if you see it, lets bring it back.>>>
<<@Doc/Chino [Sam] Got eyes on it right now. It's fragged and burning.>>
"Well, Sam, what do you think? I don't really think carrying back a flaming drone is a good idea. I don't know about just leaving it though."
"Actually, I'm not sure we have to worry about it. I don't think this thing is going to be functioning any time soon."
Sam frowns as he looks at the flames licking at the wreckage of the drone before him. Damn. These bastards are close to us. I'd hoped we'd have a bit more time at the safehouse.
"It's functioning perfectly as a blazing beacon in the night. We should make haste away from here as quickly as possible,"
"They must be pretty close, we better start covering our tracks. Any ideas?"
Sam scrunches his brow up and thinks, looking around at the trees all around them. "I suppose we could drag a tree branch behind us as we go? To be honest, I'm not sure it matters. If they're this close to us already... I'm not sure it even matters." Sam wears an expression of grim purpose on his massive knotted face as uncomfortable thoughts go through his head. I swear to the great ghost, I will blow that obelisk into tiny little bits before I let anyone take it from me.
As they ride back, he gets the group message from Ohanzee.
>>@Team [Ohanzee]: I forgot to turn my trodes off. If anybody asks, I'm still sleeping, but I wanted to get your input on how to misdirect our pursuers - they're a little close and taking out the drone and burning the rover pretty much alerts them to us being in the vicinity. We need to throw them off our scent. Best I got is stealing another car and sending it on autopilot to another town. It gets reported stolen and found abandoned, maybe they put two and two together and think we switched vehicles. What do you guys think?
<<@Team [Uncle Sam] Sounds like a good plan.>>
-
With his meat sitting numbly in the warm office in the house, Doc continues to keep an eye on things in the Matrix. He's got audio and video feeds running from all of the available inputs.
Hearing the conversation on the snowmobile, he chimes in:
<<<@Team [Doc] A reminder about the Drone: They aren't necesarrily that close. They could have been anywhere in the world controlling that drone, and the rigger ditched early to hide where he was. Likewise they only know that we *found* their drone, not where we are. Theyv'e probably got a pretty good idea, but they've not found where we are. From observing the behavior of the drone before I tripped on my dick I'm fairly sure they didn't find any trace of us, and we've got the spirit to thank for that. I don't know much (read: anything) about Astral security so I'll leave that to Katsina and Ohnazee, but I'm pretty sure we are good for at least a few more hours. Lets get a good nights sleep and regroup in the morning.>>>
He's really looking forward to repairing his newly obtained deck and getting to sleep.
-
Katsina finishes her conversation with Ace. She puts her mask back on and finds some messages waiting for her from Ohanzee, Sam, and Doc. She sighs and thinks for a moment, her thinking slowed by the late hour combined with accumulating drain from her alchemical preparations.
<<@Team [Katsina] No hits on the spell. We're clear at the house. Checking the astral.>>
Ace walks into the living room and crashes on a couch. Katsina sits at the foot of the couch and slips into the astral for a minute. She reemerges to find Ace already asleep.
<<@Team [Katsina] Astral looks clear. Sam, Chino, you should bug-out. If they're patrolling with drones then the odds are good they're patrolling with spirits too. White Raven should keep you concealed but we shouldn't put that to the test. Let's get you home and warm before their backup arrives.>>
She leaves the car-stealing proposal to those who know how to steal cars and how to drive them. It sounds overly complicated to her, plus she's not in a position to get up to speed on the specifics at the moment.
-
"I suppose we could drag a tree branch behind us as we go? To be honest, I'm not sure it matters. If they're this close to us already... I'm not sure it even matters."
Chino frowns but shakes his head. "All right, let's do that. Anything helps."
>>@Team [Ohanzee]: I forgot to turn my trodes off. If anybody asks, I'm still sleeping, but I wanted to get your input on how to misdirect our pursuers - they're a little close and taking out the drone and burning the rover pretty much alerts them to us being in the vicinity. We need to throw them off our scent. Best I got is stealing another car and sending it on autopilot to another town. It gets reported stolen and found abandoned, maybe they put two and two together and think we switched vehicles. What do you guys think?
<<@Team [Uncle Sam] Sounds like a good plan.>>
<<@Team [Chino] Agreed. It will have to wait for tomorrow, I mean, later today. I don't think we can do anymore tonight.>>
<<@Team [Katsina] Astral looks clear. Sam, Chino, you should bug-out. If they're patrolling with drones then the odds are good they're patrolling with spirits too. White Raven should keep you concealed but we shouldn't put that to the test. Let's get you home and warm before their backup arrives.>>
<<@Team [Chino] All right, on our way.>>
Chino and Sam quietly resume their drive. Chino says, "I've been thinking about what you said earlier. What do you mean by we were trying to destroy the obelisk?" His tone is inquisitive, but it's also laced with a hint of terror, as if Chino is expecting to hear something he doesn't want to hear, but he needs to ask anyway. His mind flashes back to that strange entity he had detected living inside of the team. He was starting to put two and two together.
Without warning, Chino's vision is blacked out as he sees crumpled and blood spattered humans laying around him, dying. A word echoes in his mind, 'Destroy, destroy, destroy, destroy ...' As it gets softer, his vision returns. Getting his bearings again, Chino realized the vision must have taken place in the space of a second, perhaps less. He quickly readjusted their course to compensate for the small amount he had drifted. I need to get back to the house before that happens again. I have the feeling this is only going to get worse ...
-
It had taken less than a minute to break off a few branches and fasten them to the back of the snowmobile, and it wasn't much of a disguise, but at least the tracks behind them now looked like there was a CHANCE they'd be gone by morning. A good man on the ground could still find them. I could still find them. But a drone probably wont be able to. The ride back, save for the intensely loud buzzing of the motor between both their legs, is quiet, tense almost. Like they both have something on their minds they don't really want to talk about. For a brief moment, his mind flashes back to another snowmobile ride, another mountain, another man. Another abrupt confession and another silent awkward ride home. But just as quick as the half memory had come, it's gone. With his arms wrapped around Chino's chest as they are, he can feel him inhale to speak. He stops daydreaming to listen.
"I've been thinking about what you said earlier. What do you mean by we were trying to destroy the obelisk?"
Sam hesitates for a moment, then remembers an old saying. In for a penny, in for a pound. He has no idea what pennies or pounds are, but he understands the meaning of the phrase. He sets his micro-transceiver to broadcast only to Chino. "I have in my possession a bomb that is too powerful and too specific in nature to have any purpose other than the destruction of that object. It is also too complicated in construction for me to have built it without the knowledge of the rest of the team. Despite it's complexity, I get the distinct impression I built it on the fly. All these things considered lead me to believe that, despite its seeming importance, our plan was to destroy it." While Chino is letting all of that process, another message comes in over the comm.
<<@Team [Katsina] Astral looks clear. Sam, Chino, you should bug-out. If they're patrolling with drones then the odds are good they're patrolling with spirits too. White Raven should keep you concealed but we shouldn't put that to the test. Let's get you home and warm before their backup arrives.>>
<<@Team [Uncle Sam] Roger that, Katsina. Bugging out.>>
Then, back to Chino once more, "Also, sooner or later we're not going to be able to lug that massive thing around with us anymore."
-
"I have in my possession a bomb that is too powerful and too specific in nature to have any purpose other than the destruction of that object. It is also too complicated in construction for me to have built it without the knowledge of the rest of the team. Despite it's complexity, I get the distinct impression I built it on the fly. All these things considered lead me to believe that, despite its seeming importance, our plan was to destroy it."
Chino is quiet for a few moments as he thinks about what Sam just said.
"Also, sooner or later we're not going to be able to lug that massive thing around with us anymore."
As they start to pull into the neighborhood where the team is stationed, Chino says subvocally, making sure he is only broadcasting to Uncle Sam, "I think you're right. And I think the obelisk might have known that. I checked out a few of us earlier, astrally. What I saw was ... unsettling." Chino shakes his head. "I didn't want to mention it to anyone yet, but I think that the obelisk did something to us, something that is still inside of us and affecting us. I can't be sure, of course, but ..." Chino lets his voice trail off as he gets lost in his own thoughts. After another minute, he says, "I think it would be best not to tell this to the others." Chino goes quiet as he waits for Uncle Sam's response, or lack thereof.
-
"I think you're right. And I think the obelisk might have known that. I checked out a few of us earlier, astrally. What I saw was ... unsettling."
"I didn't want to mention it to anyone yet, but I think that the obelisk did something to us, something that is still inside of us and affecting us. I can't be sure, of course, but ..." "I think it would be best not to tell this to the others."
"You're losing me, Chino. What do you mean, "The obelisk might have known that?" That we were planning on destroying it? Are you saying this thing is sentient? Also, what's different about us? Why do you think we're different? I put all my cards on the table with you, now come clean. What do you know?"
The thought that maybe it WASN'T just a serious car wreck that messed our memories up is starting to bother Sam.
-
"You're losing me, Chino. What do you mean, "The obelisk might have known that?" That we were planning on destroying it? Are you saying this thing is sentient? Also, what's different about us? Why do you think we're different? I put all my cards on the table with you, now come clean. What do you know?"
"I'm coming clean with you, Sam. We all ended up with amnesia, with this obelisk thing, and you just told me you think we were trying to destroy it. We know this thing has some weird mojo going on with it. I noticed a strange entity, something I've never seen before in you, me, Doc, and Ohanzee. I don't know about Ace and Katsina. Maybe I'm being paranoid, but I can't help but notice that when we planned to destroy this obelisk, we ended up with amnesia and something weird when I astrally looked at us. The only thing that I can think could cause this would be the obelisk." Chino stops for a few seconds to catch his breath. "I mean, really, what are the chances that all of us ended up with amnesia from that car crash? It doesn't matter how bad of a crash it was, the fact we all lived and all had the exact same side effect is conspicuous to me. Something had to happen, and I don't know what, but my thoughts are on that obelisk. I don't know if it's sentient, or can sense thoughts and is programmed to defend itself, but I think it did something, and I'm not sure what."
Chino turns a corner before saying, "I don't know how we're different, or if what I saw is affecting us at all. What I do know is that something that is not supposed to be there is there, and I have no idea what it is."
-
As Chino drives the two of them the rest of the way back, Sam stays quiet, considering everything the Ork had just told him. Be honest with yourself. You knew it was too large a coincidence as well, you just didn't want to think about it. He definitely doesn't like the idea of some strange entity having a spiritual "mark" on him as it were, and the more he thinks about it, the creepier he feels. On top of everything else, he keeps thinking about the messages between him and the Johnson. He's obviously not going to pay us, no matter what happens. Perhaps we could carry away fragments of it and sell them for materials. Didn't someone mention how it was mostly orichalcum? That's worth some money. This job doesn't have to be a total wash. By the time the two of them are loading the snowmobile back into the garage, Sam is more convinced than ever.
I'm going to blow this thing up. Tonight.
As he and Chino begin to awkwardly part ways inside the house, Chino must be able to feel something strange about Sam's demeanor, because he stops and asks him, "Everything ok? You cool?" Taking a long hard look at this near faceless ork who Sam can only presume was his friend yesterday, he goes against his instincts and confides in him once again. He approaches the massive man, moves in very close, puts one still ice caked arm around him, and quietly whispers in his ear. "I'm going to destroy it tonight, right now." Seeing the horrified look on his companions face, he adds, "Unless... you think I should discuss it with the group in the morning."
-
Chino's first thought is horror, as he thinks about what the obelisk might do. This might be our only chance though.
"There's no way we're getting this thing sold, it's too hot and we're on the run." He asks, "How are you going to get this done without getting it out of the house? It took all our strength last time, and we barely moved it. I would say do it, but I don't know how we're going to do it without alerting the others. Unless, that's a chance you're willing to take."
Chino looks past Sam to see if anyone is overlooking. There doesn't seem to be. "It needs to go, but I don't think having an explosion while almost everyone is asleep is going to help us. If you think it needs to be done now, I'll help in any way I can."
-
As Chino and Sam leave the multiple burning wrecks in their wake Sam notices they stop transmitting their feeds. Still following them from the matrix he sees they are online. Paranoia strikes deep, and Doc quickly tosses marks on both commlinks, and then starts to snoop on Chino's comm. While he doesn't have the video feed any more, he can listen in on their conversation.
When Chino mentions the "strange entity" Doc's mental alarms start going off like crazy. That could explain the strange urges he had and why he can't find anything wrong with his 'ware. When he hears them start to slowdown as they approach the houses, he unplugs, stretches and heads to the kitchen to grab some beers before heading to the garage to meet them.
As the door opens, he quietly wave's them in, handing each a beer. Once they've smoothed the snow outside of the garage and closed the door, Doc turns and looks Chino straight in the eyes he just cuts straight to the point, "We should talk about what you can see Chino. I can tell I've got something crawling in me that doesn't belong, and it's behaving like nanites-gone-wild. And if you think they are in the rest of us, we should start to figure out what this is. Whether you guys blow the oblisk or not, I want to know what's under my skin... literally."
As the two of them stare at him in disbelief, he thinks a little more. "You didn't mention seeing anything in Katsina or Ace. Did you just not get a chance to check or are they 'clean'? And no, I'm not being that quiet, if they want to hear we either throwdown or get this worked out together. The only reason I didn't bring everyone to start is a) ambushing comrades is bad, and b) I'm really jealous of Ohnazee's sleep."
Doc looks really weary at this point, just bone tired. It's obvious that he thinks this is vitally important otherwise he'd be passed out right now.
-
Chino looks down at the beer in his hand as Doc confronts them. "I ... what ... forget it. You already know everything. I might as well tell you."
Chino wearily looks towards Sam, and then looks back at Doc. "I can't give you what you want." He holds up a hand before they can protest. "No, I am not holding anything back. I mean I have no idea what is inside of us. My best guess is that it's some sort of virus, but it wasn't biological in nature. Whether it was Astral, or technological, or what, I don't know. It seemed worse in you, Doc, but it was in all of us." Chino knows the words hit Doc hard, but he doesn't know what he can say to comfort him.
Chino sighs and opens his beer, taking a swig. Softly, he says. "I wasn't going to tell either of you this. To be honest, I wasn't sure what I had actually seen. I was going to ask Ohanzee tomorrow, he seems better at this stuff than me. I wanted him to double check me. And no, I doubt that Katsina or Ace are clean; I didn't get a chance to check them. I'm not even sure I could see it again, whatever it was, it was incredibly well hidden from Astral sight. That's why I figured Ohanzee would be able to double check me; I think I got lucky to see it the first time."
Immediately, Chino's entire demeanor changes as he lets out a single, sarcastic laugh. "As if you could call anything happening to us lucky." He takes another drink before he says, "When Sam mentioned that we were planning to destroy the obelisk, things started to make sense to me. I couldn't be sure, but everything was just too convenient, too coincidental." His voice starts to raise to a normal level, "I mean, come on. We all woke up with the same type of amnesia, while we were transporting the obelisk and planning to destroy it, and it was just an accident?" Another mirthless laugh comes from Chino. "No, something happened. Something went horribly wrong, and I'm willing to bet the obelisk has something to do with it."
Chino takes another swig of his beer; the liquid almost gone. His voice soft again, as if his personality changed again, he says, "There you go. You now know everything I know."
Chino leans against the wall, his head pounding. Whether that was from his emotions, the booze, the temperature change, being tired, his blackouts, or all of them, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that his head felt like it was going to split in half. He places the still-cold beer bottle on his head, not that it helps. He realizes that he's just so fragging tired; he's been running for as long as he can remember; strike teams or visions; fragging artifacts or teammates; a disease or insanity, it doesn't matter. He hasn't had a single chance to rest since the start of this misadventure. He goes quiet as he waits for someone else to break the shock-ridden silence.
-
Only a little irritated that Doc has eavesdropped on the conversation, Sam doesn't let it show. He stands and listens to the back and forth between the two of them. Doc is all but threatening to wake the rest of the team up if Sam goes ahead with his idea alone, and Chino seems more keen to give the idea to the group as well. Maybe it's the lack of sleep, or maybe it's the cold, or maybe its the unsettling realization that something is wrong with his aura, but all he can picture are visions of nightmarish astral horrors, slowly laying eggs inside him or something equally horrifying. Maybe it's best to go along with them for now. "Ok." he says rather matter of factly. "We compromise? Tonight, I finish rigging traps, then sleep. In the morning, we bring it to Big O, and see what he thinks. Deal?"
He looks back and forth between the two in hopes they agree.
-
Katsina, on watch, hears Sam and Chino arrive. Doc grabbing beers and going to greet them in the garage is unexpected. She grabs Ace's ankle and shakes it, but doesn't check to see if it actually woke him up or not.
She trails Doc to the garage. Overhearing the conversation is not difficult. She knocks on the door leading to the garage, announcing her presence. She speaks slowly, trying to maintain concentration on her spell while ignoring her accumulating fatigue.
"Everything you say is possible," she tells Chino. "But if the obelisk wiped our memories because we planned to destroy it then there's nothing stopping it from doing so again. If it acted in self-defense once then it will do so twice.
"I agree that all of us waking up with the same type of amnesia is suspicious. Certainly more than the crash alone could explain. I saw the obelisk's aura on us when we woke up, but it has faded now. Maybe that's why our memories are beginning to return. I don't see a lingering presence, nor have I seen what Chino says he saw or what Doc says he feels. The virus or the nanites or..."
She trails off, waving her hand to indicate "etcetera". The motion throws her a bit off; she reaches to steady herself against the door frame.
"We're all tired. Let's make a decision when we're rested."
-
And now Mask is in on it, too. I should have just kept my mouth shut and done what needed to be done. The troll stands silently, listening as the woman throws her two cents in. Too late for that now. They'll be watching out for it. He nods at the appropriate times as she speaks. I'll have to figure something else out. When she's finished, he nods in agreement. "Morning then."
With that, he heads off to finish trapping the remaining two doors.
-
"Well that stirred up the hornet's nest quite a bit there...."
Looking at the crowd that's formed in the garage, Doc speaks up again, "Lets move this inside where it's warmer and less likely to draw attention?"
<<<Reboot all devices>>>
Once his deck has gone through the reboot cycle and everyone that has extended him marks is re-established in his PAN he settles down on the couch with his elbows on his knees and head in his hands. It's obvious he's nearly passed out from exhaustion, and he knows he'll need to spend some time after waking up to repair the damage to his new deck. He looks up and speaks loudly enough for everyone including Sam to hear, "Sam, I understand your desires to erase the oblisk from existance, I truly do. However, it's our only meal ticket right now, and for all we know if we blow it up, we blow us up if there's anything to the oblisk being the source of our hitchikers, whatever form they may be in. I'm significantly more squishy than you are and don't like my chances of survival in that situation. That said, from what I can tell you're likely to survive anything that happens, so I'll leave that one in your hands. I think once rested our Awakened team members can more reasonably examine the situation and come to a reasonable conclusion. I'm going to get some sleep, or just pass out if this goes on any longer. If I wake up, I'm going to assume you didn't blow it up."
Doc looks like he's going to stand up, and just crashes on the couch. It's possible he could be woken, but his usefulness is dubious at best.
-
The gathered assembly breaks up. After finishing his traps Sam goes upstairs, shakes Ohanzee awake, and whispers in his ear. Sam then returns back downstairs to the living room, where he props his head on a bag of explosives and falls asleep on the floor.
Doc doesn't make it any further than the living room before his fatigue overtakes him. He crashes on the second couch, the one that Ace isn't already sleeping on. Chino makes it to one of the two guest bedrooms of the first floor. The beds there are big enough for an ork to stretch out, so he does, and then he's out. Katsina dons her lined coat, puts her claymore on her shoulder, and stares out the front windows like a dark sentinel.
Ohanzee is shaken awake for the second time, but this time it is Katsina instead of Sam. Ohanzee instinctively jolts at the sight of her ballistic mask just centimeters from his his eyes - the ghostly white Wiccan pentagram ornately carved into its face practically shining at him in the dark room. She holds up a hand to indicate peace, then points out the window. Ohanzee's head throbs as his eyes focus on the scene outside. The sky is a flat, dull grey, but he can tell that it is sunrise. White Raven sends its regards via the spirit-summoner link, and then departs.
Ohanzee is not best pleased to be awake so soon but Katsina tries to ease the pain. She holds up a steaming mug.
"Coffee," she whispers. "Real coffee. Not soykaf. It's from Aztlan, which probably makes it illegal in Pueblo. Beans are five grand a kilo, chip truth. Makes this mug worth about fifty nuyen, compliments of our host."
She puts the mug in his hands, regardless of whether he likes coffee, or soykaf, or both, or not. Ohanzee inhales. The scent of coffee is obvious, but there's something else that's cooking.
"Scones just came out of the oven. I found some cream and whipped it into butter. There's jam in the fridge, honey in the cupboards."
She rattles this off quickly, not bothering to see if Ohanzee's keeping pace or not.
"Doc's been sleep walking a bit. Nothing major, and luckily hasn't stepped on Sam yet.. Walks a few steps one way, then the other, then sits back on the couch. Mutters something about the corps on the 'net.
"Speaking of corps, I'm sending you a file about PCC. Feel free to share it with the team if I'm still sleeping. I'm going to take a shower and crash in the master bedroom downstairs. Everyone else is still out."
She stands and turns, her lined coat twisting around her like a cape. She's off in a blink, leaving Ohanzee reasonably certain, but not 100% positive, that he's now awake. He feels his fingers burning and looks down at the mug, confirming that he is indeed alive, conscious, and on watch.
-
The coffee goes a good way towards bringing Ohanzee to consciousness. The need to have a second cup and get some food brings him fully awake so that he can but his trodes on and head downstairs.
He refills his cup, grabs a scone, puts more butter on it than any sane doctor would recommend and is halfway through the second one before he realizes that another basic need must be met. Well, two basic needs, but going to the bathroom could wait.
Without White Raven, they were exposed. He wondered if he should dare summon him again. But he had other matters to attend to first. Seated comfortably in the kitchen, he adjusted his body to ensure he wouldn't immediately fall out of his chair when his body went slack. His body secured, he entered the Astral, rising up to the ceiling. The wood the cabin was made of was long since dead, and so it had no aura, and thus no physical presence, on the Astral. He rose through the ceiling to the second floor then through the top of the roof, poking just his head out so that he could get a good 360 degree view without sticking out like a flare on the astral. He looks to gather a baseline of their area so that he can more easily spot things out of the ordinary through the remainder of his watch, but he still looks for pursuers, spies, or other potential dangers - Katsina likely left things in good order, but a fresh pair of eyes never hurts.
Satisfied that things are relatively safe, he ducks back down to the first floor and before returning to his body reaches out to the realm of water and calls forth Dolphin.
Hello again, friend Shaman. What game is afoot today? the familiar voice asks.
I need you to find an acquaintance of mine that may be a useful ally. I don't know yet if I can trust her, so I can't risk looking myself. All I have is the place where she lives. She has gone missing, and may be dead, but that should be a useful place to start. Will you do this for me?
The dolphin chirruped cheerfully. Hide and seek! Hide and Seek! And the spirit was off, the acceptance of the task implicit.
That task complete, Ohanzee returned to his body to finish his meal and use the bathroom. While in the bathroom, he scans the documents Katsina gave him, and makes mental notes on what to share. But that will wait until people are awake. Soon, he has heard from the spirit what it has found at Gloria's residence.
-
Once finished rigging up the other two entrances with explosives, Sam finally settles down to sleep in the main living room, but not before warning the rest of the team.
<<@Team [Uncle Sam] DANGER! I finished the job from last night. Be careful about fresh air and the morning paper before you talk to me.>>
Then, he turns all his gear off and curls up on the floor, using his duffel bag full of explosives as a pillow.
-
Ohanzee's head emerges from the roof of the cabin to peruse the astral surroundings. Even in the winter, the scene is full of life. The aspen trees glow brightly, obscuring his vision beyond. Through the glare he believes he can see a man and a woman on the front porch of the house to the south. They seem to be enjoying their morning soykaf (or coffee, should they be similarly blessed) while watching the snow. There is a large dog with them, which wags its tail. The couple put down their mugs and walk down their front steps to take the dog for a walk. It runs ahead happily to the south, away from Ohanzee. The couple follows.
In the distance, above the tree line, Ohanzee sees free spirits playing. Spirits of the air enjoying the wind, or spirits of the water celebrating the snow, or spirits of the mountain, or spirits of the trees, or perhaps all of the above. They are small and playful and pay Ohanzee no mind.
Inside once again, Ohanzee brings forth his friend Dolphin, who is willing and able to assist in the search for Gloria Winters. --Hide and seek!-- it chirps before vanishing into the astral. Ohanzee heads to the guest bathroom while the spirit travels. He can hear water in the pipes from Katsina using the master bathroom to shower.
It does not take long for Dolphin to identify the location of the home, as provided by Ohanzee. It seems to be a proper house in a fine neighborhood, indications of success in the career of Ms. Winters. However, the mood of Dolphin changes when it enters the home. Ohanzee can feel the chill distinctly via his spirit-summoner link.
--Oh, this is not a happy game,-- Dolphin tells Ohanzee. --This house has seen great pain recently. Physical and emotional. I feel weak in its presence.-- Ohanzee feels Dolphin struggling through the home, as if Dolphin were swimming through mud.
--I fear someone has died here, and that they did not die well. This game may not be won.--
-
When Katsina touches Ace's foot, he wakes up easily, surprised that he's not more groggy. Must've only been out for a few, he reasons, and waits a solid ten seconds before he follows Katsina out toward the garage. He can hear the talking inside, thinks of joining the conversation, but when the team decides to wait until morning, Ace thinks that's good enough for him, and returns to his spot on the couch. Destroying the obelisk seems like a viable alternative, but Ace will be glad to hear from those who are more experienced and knowledgeable before he signs off. Still, it would be nice just to be rid of the damned thing.
He rests his eyes on the couch for awhile longer, but when he hears Sam rigging explosives, Ace figures that everything is well, and allows himself to slip back to sleep.
-
The news from Dolphin is not unexpected, but still shocking anyway. He'd have to ask Doc to look into the police reports - if she was reported missing, the local authorities had certainly been to her home already. Did he, or one of his allies, kill her? Was she killed by those pursuing him? Or was it just random chance?
Keep looking. Ohanzee sends Dolphin an image of Gloria from the deep recesses of his memory. Whether it is from when he met her in person or some image Doc dug up on the matrix after his amnesia, Ohanzee couldn't be sure, but he hoped it would help the spirit find her - or, it seemed, her corpse.
We'll have to look into our other contacts. Hmm.
He finished up in the restroom and found a good spot to get comfortable. He did a search for news reports involving his other two contacts. He didn't have their real names, but he had their addresses and started with those.
Then he went back into the Astral, did a quick patrol and then was about to return to his body when he decided to see if he could spot this parasite that Sam had mentioned the night before. Did it corrupt his astral form when he was projecting, or did it stay with his body?
-
Ohanzee checks the addresses associated with his contacts:
Long Shadow's address looks like a talismonger shop in the Sioux side of Denver. Long Shadow himself is reported to be a Shark shaman. As such, his business practices are particularly cold. Long Shadow doesn't form attachments, so regulars get the same prices as everyone else.
Styles' address shows up as crappy Sichuan restaurant with bad online reviews. From the exterior photos, the restaurant appears to be a concrete hut with no windows. Several commentators mention that it is "a good place to go if you want to die", although it is unclear if that opinion pertains to the food or the clientele. The restaurant has a reputation as being popular with information brokers and adepts with the Iron Gut power.
Finding an image of Gloria Winters is not difficult. A candid photo of her is linked to her contact profile in Ohanzee's commlink. The local news source - the Aspen Times, owned by Horizon - even ran a news story about her absence two days ago, which Doc found and shared earlier (http://forums.shadowruntabletop.com/index.php?topic=17834.msg328319#msg328319).
NOTED ARCANOARCHAEOLOGIST REPORTED MISSING
The article features a more formal photo of Gloria. She looks like a bit of a frump, one of those 40-years-old-and-never-been-kissed spinsters. She's obviously a dwarf, with an oval face. Her hair is pulled tightly behind her head and she's not wearing any makeup.
The article includes a brief biography, which says that Gloria is (was) an academic at the Aspen Institute of Technology and Thaumaturgy, in addition to being a member of the Atlantean Foundation. Her boss reported her missing three days ago, shortly after she had an emotional breakdown over a failed relationship. The police are searching for a person of interest, who is not described by the article.
Dolphin promises to continue the search for Ms. Winters, and is quite content to do so outside of her home. Dolphin will search until Ms. Winters is found, or sunset, or whenever Ohanzee releases the spirit from his service.
Returning to his body, Ohanzee pauses to consider his aura. Outside of the unhealed injuries from drain, he appears to be in fine pumilionis health. He does not detect any astral viruses nor cyberinsects nor any other bugs of ill repute. He momentarily wonders if the others imagined them, or if they might be delusional in addition to being amnesiacs. But wouldn't that make him delusional as well? Perhaps not, with his fine dwarven will and all. But still, a troubling trend.
-
The hours pass as Ohanzee keeps watch. He digs through his commlink, looking for clues, of which there are precious few. He cross-checks the file that Katsina sent him with what he can find on the Matrix. Everything seems to be accurate. He checks in with Dolphin, who continues to fruitlessly search for Gloria. The space around the cabin stays clear of astral threats, although he frequently sees drones, helicopters, and private planes passing by in the sky overhead. How much of this is normal Friday traffic for Aspen and how much of it might be actively looking for you is an open question.
The snow stops around 10:00. The clouds are thick and the weather remains overcast, but any excursions now will leave tracks in the fresh snow. Late in the morning, the neighbors to the north arrive. Ohanzee spies on them from the living room window. They are an older couple driving a Ford-Canada Buffalo (an RV), which they park in their driveway since it won't fit in their garage. Why they drove an RV to a weekend home is an open question, unless Aspen is their base of operations and they're just now returning from a road trip.
Ohanzee makes more coffee for the team, as they will surely awake soon. He looks at Katsina's scones and has a notion that he can cook too when the situation calls for it. Sure he can order the autocooker to make pasta, but he even knows how to do it himself, and make a sauce to go with it, and select a bottle of wine to complement it. Maybe it's all part of his charm, the way he can wine and dine and talk sweetly.
The house begins to stir.
-
Sam shoots an annoyed glance at him, clearly annoyed that Chino talked. Whatever, I'm tired of running from everyone, even my teammates. Everyone breaks off and Chino manages to drag himself into a bed. He barely has time to get in before he falls into a nightmare-plagued sleep.
Chino finds himself surrounded by darkness. He looks around, but nothing happens. He takes a step forward, but is pulled down. The darkness has gripped him with its tendrils and is pulling him into itself. He doesn't even have time to scream.
He's staring at an oak floor. He pushes himself up to his feet and looks around. He's in the house, in Aspen. There are bodies, dead bodies, everywhere. He even recognizes their faces. There is Ace, there is Katsina. There are too many to count, yet they are somehow all visible as distinct corpses. There is Ohanzee, at the top of the stairs. He turns around and sees Doc, lying there, slumped against the couch, covered in blood. But he's not dead. Somehow, Doc manages to stand, and he shouts, "Look at what you've done! Why didn't you tell us ... us ... us?" The last word echoes as Doc fades from view. Chino hears a whisper in his ear, "What kind of person are you ... you ... you?" As Chino stands there, he tries to say something, anything. Until he realizes there is nothing he can say. A tendril of darkness rises out of the wooden floor and wraps itself around his leg, climbing up towards his eyes. He vainly struggles against it, but as they reach his eyes, the world goes black.
He finds himself in some sort of maze, everything is dark. Even the walls are dark, not even visible. As if shadow was turned into solid form. He sees bright spots, but he doesn't understand. As he stands there, uneasy about what he just experienced, the a shadowy arm rises out of the floor and grabs him. Before he can struggle, Chino is thrown towards one of the lights.
And then everything is bright again. Chino raises his arm to ward off the blinding light, as his eyes get used to his surroundings. Now where am I? A car, a cliff. He's back at the crash. Except, something's different. Chino opens a door on the car. No one is there. He looks around, there are no footprints. After a minute, he looks in the back of the car. Lying there, is a crate. The same crate with the obelisk. In a flash of anger, Chino rips the lid off of the crate. The obelisk stares back at him, it's black surface smooth and shining. The devil is always smooth and shiny, that's how he gets you. Chino looks up, and sees Sam staring at him. His body is riddled with injuries. In a strong voice, he commands, "Destroy it. It is the only way." Chino looks down at the obelisk; it stares back at him, as if it's alive and can see through his soul. He glances at his hands, and then looks at Sam. "Destroy it!" Sam shouts before collapsing. Chino roars in rage, raising his arm into the air. He brings his fist down with every intention of destroying it, but the obelisk shifts and shadow coalesces around it. As his fist connects, the shadow eats his arm, slowly crawling towards his chest. It burns as if he was burning alive, yet it is agonizingly cold as if he was freezing to death. He is in so much pain that not a sound escapes his mouth, and he watches in agony as the shadow eventually consumes his body. He closes his eyes, as he is unable to watch the shadow move towards his head.
And then he reopens them, all pain gone. Panting from the effort, pushes himself onto his hands and knees. Another hardwood floor. Am I back where I started? He looks down at his arm, it's not his. It's Doc's. He stands up and looks around, only to find his eyes settling on, well, himself. He hears himself say, without even thinking about it, "This sneaking shit's not really by thing." Chino, the other Chino, laughs and says, "Okay, okay, The only things holding us back are fear and good judgement." This is familiar, why is this so damn familiar? He hears himself say, "Never had a problem with either." Chino replies, "Me either. Let's hit it!" He kicks the door open, and the world seems to go out of focus.
When it reappears, Chino is back in his own body, looking at what could only be called a slaughter. Chino goes forward to take a closer look. Their faces ... all of their faces ... oh, Ghost, what have I done? What have I done! Chino stumbles back as he recognizes the victim's faces; they were all one face actually, APB's. The world flickers as he is whipped back to the cold mountains, APB's face a dead stare into Chino's eyes. "I'm so sorry," he says, as he reaches out to close her eyes. Her arm whips up and catches his hand. Chino stares in horror as the dead elf speaks. "You. You! You did this! Look around! You did this, and you enjoyed it!" She flings his arm away, and his vision darkens.
For the final time, he is in the maze, but this time, he sees no lights. Only the cold, bitter, darkness. Chino sits there and stares at his body, realizing the truth in APB's words. Blissfully, his consciousness fades into oblivion.
-
Once the first team member wakes, the others follow suit. With the sun streaming through the cabin windows, the runners find it difficult to sleep. Most are well rested, but Katsina wakes with the rest of the team despite having only had about 5 hours to rest. Though the team speaks softly and moves as quietly as they can, the heightened senses of a runner make it difficult to sleep when there is any activity about.
Katsina, after her earlier success in the kitchen, decides to make more food for the hungry group. The scones were great, but with what their bodies have been through, they will need more than just carbs. She puts a pan on the stove and cracks some eggs into it. She frowns, looking at the eggs, and starts picking out bits of shell with a fork. By the time she gets all of the pieces of shell out, the egg has burnt itself onto the pan and is plainly inedible. She tries again with a new pan, breaking the egg into a bowl first so that she can pick the pieces of shell out without burning the egg, but ends up burning the egg anyway after pouring the shell free yolk into the new pan. Frustrated, she sits down in a huff, leaving the meal to someone else.
Ohanzee had managed to poke around the kitchen in order to make a new pot of coffee, having finished the pot from earlier. During this exploration, he realized that he was no stranger to the kitchen. Women love a man that can cook, he figured, also assuming he could dance as well. He'd never imagined it from his stature, but it was turning out he was quite the lady's man. He took the opportunity of Katsina's failed effort to try his new found skill.
All there was to work with were bachelor supplies and some basics. Bread, eggs, the milk was expired (what a waste), bacon and a few other sundries. No spices (other than salt, pepper, and sugar) and no flour (though there was pancake mix). No fresh fruits or vegetables - no perishables at all other than the eggs it seemed. And somehow, with the help of some creative reuse of pre-packaged meals, he threw together a hearty breakfast. It started as bacon and eggs and toast, but grew into quite the repast - bacon and cheese pancakes, omelettes with steak and ham (from some frozen dinners), And a hearty biscuits and gravy.
He looked upon his handiwork and knew with a certainty that the odds of him doing so much with so little ever again were remote. Somehow, there had been the perfect mix of ingredients available, despite a cursory inspection revealing so few. If this was to be their last day alive, they would at least have a final meal to remember.
The kitchen was devoid of conversation while the group ate. But soon the clank of silverware on plate and glass on table died down and the conversation started.
-
Katsina is wearing her mask so she doesn't partake in Ohanzee's amazing breakfast. Instead she uses the opportunity to share what she knows while the others eat.
"I did some research on the Pueblo Corporate Council while I was on watch. Here's what life is like around here.
"Local law enforcement is in the hands of the Pueblo Security Force. A SecForce trooper serves equal time in the Civilian Arm (police) and the Defense Arm (national armed forces). The cross-training shows. The cops pack (and know how to use) military-grade hardware when the situation demands it. Normally they carry machine pistols and wear armored jackets, but if things get hot they go to heavy armor and anything from assault shotguns to gyro-mount cannons. Since the police and the armed forces are the same guys, the cops can mobilize a full military response with a single call. Some are chromed, a few to the max, and many have some type of headware. Don't slot with these guys unless you want to get us all ripped to shreds. Remember, the PCC is a corporation. These guys aren't your average street cops; they're corporate security. They're well-funded, serious, and don't want to get embarrassed by having any VIPs geeked on their turf. If they need it they have the hardware to guarantee a one shot take-down on anything. Anything."
She pauses for emphasis, looking around the dining room at the larger examples of metahumanity in the group.
"And to cap it all off, the majority of the SecForce is Hopi, the more dissatisfied segment of the population. Get my drift?
"The Koshari are the primary syndicate around here - also mostly Hopi - although there are some Mafia guys too, mostly out of Los Angeles or Las Vegas. Aspen's too expensive for your common class of criminals, but there are some of your high-end services around here. High-stakes animal fights and other thrills for execs letting off some steam. That's probably what those poachers were bringing the horned bear into town for last night.
"The Pueblo 'net is literally years ahead of any other part of the Matrix. Ask Doc. As a result, there are more technomancers around because they're drawn to the Pueblo grid. We have to be mindful of comm security.
"The PCC has the highest population of Anglos of all the Native American Nations, primarily due to the annexation of Los Angeles back in 2061. Nationwide the percentage of Anglos is about 40%, but probably even higher in Aspen due to the seasonal influx of tourists. There will be a lot of corpers around town. That's good news and bad news. It means a lot of private security, but it also gives us a chance to blend in. One idea might be to put Ace in a suit and have the rest of us pose as a security detail. This Moran guy has some clothes here but he's a bit of a butterball. The clothes are going to be tight on Ace or loose on Doc. If we want to go that route, I can work on the tailoring once we're done here. I think Ace has the background to play the part."
She looks at Ace, giving him the opportunity to add his thoughts to that.
-
The smell of coffee had been invading Ace's dreams for hours, but he had willed himself to keep sleeping, ignore it, hope there would still be some left when his body was more recuperated. After a few hours, Ace couldn't wait any longer. "Frag it," he says kicking himself to a sitting position on the couch, and wiping his face. Looking around the room he notices his new teammates, and goes through the house doing a mental checklist. In the master bedroom Ace finds Katsina with her mask off, her hair tousled, and a knife in her hand at the sound of his approach. Thatta girl. Upon seeing him, she relaxes her hold on the blade and smiles a little sheepishly. Something about this picture feels very familiar to Ace, and he leans with his foot against the door frame to soak it in, then travels to look out the window facing the front of the house, careful not to move the blinds and see what there is to see. The RV at the house to the north looks promising. We could sure use a sweet ride like that. The next stop is the master bathroom where Ace rummages through the drawers looking for prophylactics, floss, a comb, and other sundry items that may prove useful later
A few minutes later, Ace goes downstairs to check on the coffee, and sees Ohanzee has just brewed a fresh pot, and one that's a little thick at that. Ace pours himself a cup and nods in thanks. I think I like a little grit. Interesting, he thinks. Ace doesn't think this is the first time he's ever had real coffee, but it just might be the best cup he's ever had. Katsina follows shortly behind, and tries her hand at making breakfast, but Ace is silently glad when Ohanzee takes over, especially when the smells of what the dwarf has cooking start to waft around. Bacon and cheese pancakes?! This meta deserves a medal.
Once everyone has gathered in and finished eating, Ace says, Ohanzee, your call, but I've been thinking about when we make a break from here. What if we leave a little note for the rightful owner that says we've hidden that rifle of his somewhere, somewhere that LE will definitely find? His DNA has got to be all over the thing, and they wouldn't take kindly to him having it, right? At the very least that should buy us some time. It's an alternative to the partying corp kid idea, at least."
-
Sam eats quietly. He listens to the idle breakfast chat without adding anything to it. Gazing over at the masked woman who's not eating with them, he thinks It's creepy how she never takes that mask off. I'm supposed to trust a woman who can't let a gang of amnesiacs see her face? I don't like her. I don't her or her creepy star mask. He listens to her whole spiel about not engaging with security around here, obviously pointed at him, but doesn't have the energy to react to any slight, imagined or actual. He doesn't really care too much about any of this, but he does wonder when Ohanzee is going to stop fucking around with frying eggs and start addressing the elephant in the room.
-
"The PCC has the highest population of Anglos of all the Native American Nations, primarily due to the annexation of Los Angeles back in 2061. Nationwide the percentage of Anglos is about 40%, but probably even higher in Aspen due to the seasonal influx of tourists. There will be a lot of corpers around town. That's good news and bad news. It means a lot of private security, but it also gives us a chance to blend in. One idea might be to put Ace in a suit and have the rest of us pose as a security detail. This Moran guy has some clothes here but he's a bit of a butterball. The clothes are going to be tight on Ace or loose on Doc. If we want to go that route, I can work on the tailoring once we're done here. I think Ace has the background to play the part."
She looks at Ace, giving him the opportunity to add his thoughts to that.
"Yeah," Ace says with a heavy sigh. "We need to talk about that. I've been trying to piece together a timeline in my head, not just of the run, I don't have enough to work with there, but about the legwork, the team or teams coming together, the whole thing. The best I've got goes about a month back. And I'm afraid you're not going to like it much," As Ace talks he walks around the kitchen with the cup of coffee in his hand. He finally stops in front of the picture window and continues. "I'm going to be up front with you guys regardless. For everyone's survival, I think we need to get this out front and center: I am, or was, I think 'was' is the correct term given what else I've been able to piece together, yeah, I was a corper. As of December of last year I was working for an Ares subsidiary in Denver. And then I received this:" Ace plays a recording from his commlink.
>>We have a new mission for you. One of our agents has gone missing, and was last seen en route to Aspen. We do not know if she is dead, compromised or gone rogue, but she missed her last check in and has not responded to any attempts to contact her. We need you to find her, and find out what went wrong. Attached is a dossier on the agent and her last mission. An alibi has been provided to explain your absence from your current assignment. Read it, Memorize it, and follow standard procedure. We do not want these files falling into the wrong hands.
"Now, I've been trying to piece together who this contact was, and I haven't come up with much. Neither APB nor Katsina here make much sense. Neither has the stench of corper to 'em, and I'd know. The rest of my mission parameters are here," Ace points to his head, "in a rating 10 datalock."
"The rest of what I've been able to piece together is much fuzzier. I know that somewhere along the lines my loyalties to Ares died, and I suspect it happened before the two groups came together for this job. So, that's where we stand. Katsina's right, if you guys want to play with me as corp plus retinue, I can play the part. If this is the end of civility between us, you'd better come hard and fast because I'm not going to go quietly into that good night. And if you have something to add, some piece that I've missed, anything at all, truly, I'd love to fucking hear it."
-
Chino shivers as he opens his eyes. He's covered in a cold sweat. Already, his dreams are fading into memory, as dreams are apt to do.
He sits up on the side of the bed, rubbing his eyes. The heavenly smell of coffee forces him onto his feet.
He enters the kitchen, Ohanzee, Katsina, and Ace are already there. Chino grumbles, "Mornin'." He pours himself a cup and takes a seat, slowly enjoying the liquid going through his system. After he has taken a couple of sips, he notices that Ohanzee is cooking some sort of delicious breakfast. It isn't long before everyone else shuffles in and breakfast is ready.
"Ohanzee, you're a saint." Chino digs in and listens quietly as the others converse.
"The rest of what I've been able to piece together is much fuzzier. I know that somewhere along the lines my loyalties to Ares died, and I suspect it happened before the two groups came together for this job. So, that's where we stand. Katsina's right, if you guys want to play with me as corp plus retinue, I can play the part. If this is the end of civility between us, you'd better come hard and fast because I'm not going to go quietly into that good night. And if you have something to add, some piece that I've missed, anything at all, truly, I'd love to fucking hear it."
Chino finishes his food and puts down his silverware. He says, "Hell, it doesn't matter where you came from, we're all in this together now."
He looks around at his teammates before looking back at Ace. "I think the plan could work. Me and Doc can probably get us another vehicle, and we could make a convincing, if large, bodyguard entourage." It's amazing how much easier it is to think, I guess I really needed that sleep.
Chino leans back in his seat as he waits for the others to respond.
-
The smell of coffee drags Doc from his sleep. Bleery eyed he stumbles into the kitchen. He pours himself a soycaf, and takes a sip. His eyes jolt open. "This ain't soycaf!" He savors the flavor of real coffee, pure and black. He grabs one of the now cold scones that are the best food he can remember, or even remember remembering.... He shakes his head at that thought. As Katsina and Ohanzee work through the kitchen, he excuses himself and gets a shower.
He makes his way back downstairs and sits at the table to enjoy the feast Ohnazee has prepared. He notices the bran cereal in the cupboard and pours a bowl of that, dumping beer on it instead of milk. Then grabs 2 pieces of stake and dumps that on top of the cereal. As he's making his way through this bizarre assembly of food he notices that he's started gnawing on the spoon. Looking at his setting versus everyone elses, he looks up and says, "We gotta talk. I may not remember much, but this is not normal." As he gesturing with his half spoon.
"I'm exhibiting clasic symptoms of an overabundance of hard nanites. Something is causing my nanites to reproduce at an alarming rate, or I've got something very unusual implanted that I don't know about and can't find any information on.
I would appreciate any or all of those able to do a full assensing on me, specifically looking for irregularities in systems. I'm also for doing test along these lines while closer and further away from the oblisk to see if there's a possible connection there.
As for Ace, I'm sure he isn't the first and won't be the last ex-corper I work with. As far as I'm concerned anything that happened before yesterday is washed clean. Amnesia can help wash away our sins... at least until they come back and haunt us. And, like Ace, I'd really like some fucking answers."
-
As Katsina talks, Ohanzee assenses the team. The events of the early morning have him feeling a little more paranoid than usual, and it occurs to him that he has never cast so much as a suspicious glance at his teammates. Ohanzee quickly notices that tensions are high, and left unchecked things could quickly start spiraling out of control. The conversation starts well enough, but soon his fears are proven correct.
Katsina shares with the team the information she shared with him privately earlier. All of it is good information. He wonders how closely Ares and Lone Star are tied in with the Pueblo Corporate Council. If they can call in some favors, their lives would be very difficult. He voices that thought, and also comments on Katsina's suggestion to have Ace play corp.
"One exec with 5 bodyguards in one of the safest cities on the continent might be more than a little suspicious. We could limit the security detail to just Chino and Sam - by virtue of size alone they look the part. Katsina can act as a romantic interest - wife, girlfriend, paid companion, whatever. But Doc and I don't really have a role in that scenario. I think we could work well from the cabin anyway, so there may be little need for us to travel. He can provide matrix overwatch and I can send a spirit or just tag along astrally. Of course, if Katsina refuses to take off her mask, it'll make it difficult for her to travel inconspicuously, even as a bodyguard, so she could just stay here with Doc and I. At least, that's how I envision it working. Thoughts?"
Ace comes clean, and Ohanzee is sharply reminded of his dream. Perhaps he had been suspicious after all. But honesty goes a long way. He wouldn't be turning his back on him any time soon, but for now he seemed genuine enough (Ohanzee reflexively scans his aura to be sure) and his advice to Sam from earlier still rings true - keep your enemies close. He thanks Ace for his honesty, but is highly concerned for how the others might take it. The room was already a powder keg, but this revelation seems to have gone over well enough. That agent he was supposed to meet, missing. He knows a female that also went missing - could he have been played while trying to play the spinster professor? Did he discover her deception and take her out? So many questions, and no clear path to answers. Cursed amnesia!
Chino proposes grabbing another vehicle and Ohanzee remembers to his half conscious suggestion the previous evening. "Could you grab two? One obvious that will be reported missing quickly and one less likely to be noticed for a few days? The first we can use as a decoy as I suggested last night - if the plan still seems sound - and the other for use as you suggest, for hauling our VIP" he indicates Ace "around. The first one only needs Doc to command the pilot to drive it to the next town, so you don't have to spread yourselves too thin managing two vehicles at once."
All through the conversation, he can see Sam growing more and more impatient, casting more than a few glares at the dwarf, encouraging him to bring up the artifact. Sam was smart and disciplined, but trolls were legendary for their short fuses. Ohanzee knew he wouldn't stay quiet, much less calm, for long.
But before he can speak, Doc obliquely brings the artifact into the conversation. The spoon he holds aloft as he speaks is more than a little disturbing, and Ohanzee double checks his aura, sure that nanites should have a telltale effect on one's aura. But try as he might, he still can't seem to see what Chino mentioned, and the lack of any suspicious black holes in his aura - indicative of cyberware or other non-living matter - makes the evidence of Doc's behavior a real blow to Ohanzee's trust in himself. Something is obviously wrong, but I can't see it. This makes it very likely that something is wrong with me. Suddenly, Sam's irrational fear of the artifact seemed significantly more rational. Straining to see what he knows must be there, he is suddenly able to finally see the infection. It clustered around Doc's nervous system, mostly the brain, and was practically everywhere. It was much less pronounced in the others - and all but absent in Ace and Katsina - but still there.
At last, Ohanzee decided it was time to get everyone on the same page. They had a plan to lay low. They had a plan to throw off their pursuers. What they didn't have was a plan for the artifact. He started with the developments of the morning - what Dolphin had discovered, their new neighbors. And then Sam's plan.
"At first, I thought that Chino was imagining things, but Doc's strange eating habits have me wondering. We still can't be sure that the two are related, but it is undeniable that all of us having amnesia at the same time is, well, unlikely, to say the least. The artifact is the primary suspect - it is obviously magic and magic has very traditionally been the go to cause for unexplainable phenomenon - especially before magic was widely accepted as existing."
"The object is old, it is - just by mass and composition - extremely valuable, and it is highly magical. It is very likely unique and quite possibly sentient. It may or may not be malicious, but due to its value, destroying it without having all of the facts is something I hesitate to endorse. However, this is a democracy, and while many have deferred to my judgement, I do not act without the support and input of the team, so we must put it to a vote. Regardless of the outcome, I would like a few hours to study it before we destroy it, and I would like to attempt to communicate with it using my mindnet spell. Once proper precautions have been taken, of course."
"So, here are the facts as I see them: We have a bomb that was very clearly designed to destroy the artifact. It was most likely created by Sam with input from all of us. So we had some plan to destroy the artifact, though it may not have been plan A. If it were, we would have simply blown it up where we found it rather than go through the effort of extracting it. We had it in our possession for some period of time before succumbing to amnesia and still hadn't even attempted to attach the explosive, leading me to believe that if our intent was to destroy it, it was likely either as a last ditch effort to keep it from being reclaimed by our pursuers, or at some specific, and possibly previously prepared, location. The former seems unlikely as we were under heavy pursuit and at the most likely time to be discovered and lose the artifact back to its original owners, so attaching the bomb would have been a high priority if it were a precautionary measure."
"So, either the bomb was placed by someone else and we removed it, or we were taking it somewhere to destroy, very likely as part of a ritual. Or the artifact got to us before we could destroy it at the facility and forced us to extract it for some reason rather than simply make us fight to the death there. Or any of many other less likely scenarios."
"Therefore, we have two decisions to make - do we destroy it or not, and if so, where and when? The possibility that it has some level of control over us further complicates the issue, but I am inclined to think it does not as we are capable of contemplating its destruction, and as Doc describes his symptoms, they are likely nanite related, which are about as high tech - and thus unmagical - as you can get. Though, I'm not willing to rule out that the nanites are benign and acting to counter the magical effects of the artifact. Without being able to see the aura of the ... thing ... inside of him - and us - I can't be sure it is magic or mundane."
"I have stated my thoughts and reasoning. I vote that we hold off on destroying it until we learn more, but that we make that our highest priority. Now it's up to you - everyone gets an equal say, and I suggest you provide your reasons for your decision."
-
Doc listens to Ohanzee's ideas, and begins nodding along at the mention of getting more information.
"As much as I admire and respect Sam, I want to find out more about the artifact before we blow it up. I want to stress that I'm not against blowing it up, just not yet. It'll probably take me the better part of a day to find solid information about it, but the more information we have to start, the better my chances, nea omea?" He looks to Sam with a look of platitude, as if asking for either forgivness or forebarence... it's hard to tell which.
"I need a little bit of time to repair my deck, and then I can start searching and resting. I could really use a day or two, or three. But one will do in a pinch....
Speaking of resting, I can look into any physical wounds for you Ohanzee if you are taking the time to rest."
-
"Could you grab two? One obvious that will be reported missing quickly and one less likely to be noticed for a few days? The first we can use as a decoy as I suggested last night - if the plan still seems sound - and the other for use as you suggest, for hauling our VIP around. The first one only needs Doc to command the pilot to drive it to the next town, so you don't have to spread yourselves too thin managing two vehicles at once."
Chino thinks about it for a second. "I don't see why not. Just means a little more work for me and Doc."
"At first, I thought that Chino was imagining things, but Doc's strange eating habits have me wondering. We still can't be sure that the two are related, but it is undeniable that all of us having amnesia at the same time is, well, unlikely, to say the least. The artifact is the primary suspect - it is obviously magic and magic has very traditionally been the go to cause for unexplainable phenomenon - especially before magic was widely accepted as existing."
"The object is old, it is - just by mass and composition - extremely valuable, and it is highly magical. It is very likely unique and quite possibly sentient. It may or may not be malicious, but due to its value, destroying it without having all of the facts is something I hesitate to endorse. However, this is a democracy, and while many have deferred to my judgement, I do not act without the support and input of the team, so we must put it to a vote. Regardless of the outcome, I would like a few hours to study it before we destroy it, and I would like to attempt to communicate with it using my mindnet spell. Once proper precautions have been taken, of course."
"So, here are the facts as I see them: We have a bomb that was very clearly designed to destroy the artifact. It was most likely created by Sam with input from all of us. So we had some plan to destroy the artifact, though it may not have been plan A. If it were, we would have simply blown it up where we found it rather than go through the effort of extracting it. We had it in our possession for some period of time before succumbing to amnesia and still hadn't even attempted to attach the explosive, leading me to believe that if our intent was to destroy it, it was likely either as a last ditch effort to keep it from being reclaimed by our pursuers, or at some specific, and possibly previously prepared, location. The former seems unlikely as we were under heavy pursuit and at the most likely time to be discovered and lose the artifact back to its original owners, so attaching the bomb would have been a high priority if it were a precautionary measure."
"So, either the bomb was placed by someone else and we removed it, or we were taking it somewhere to destroy, very likely as part of a ritual. Or the artifact got to us before we could destroy it at the facility and forced us to extract it for some reason rather than simply make us fight to the death there. Or any of many other less likely scenarios."
"Therefore, we have two decisions to make - do we destroy it or not, and if so, where and when? The possibility that it has some level of control over us further complicates the issue, but I am inclined to think it does not as we are capable of contemplating its destruction, and as Doc describes his symptoms, they are likely nanite related, which are about as high tech - and thus unmagical - as you can get. Though, I'm not willing to rule out that the nanites are benign and acting to counter the magical effects of the artifact. Without being able to see the aura of the ... thing ... inside of him - and us - I can't be sure it is magic or mundane."
"I have stated my thoughts and reasoning. I vote that we hold off on destroying it until we learn more, but that we make that our highest priority. Now it's up to you - everyone gets an equal say, and I suggest you provide your reasons for your decision."
Wow, he really thought through this whole thing. Or at least, a hell of a lot better than I did.
"I don't know, Ohanzee. What you're saying makes sense, but ... I don't know. Chino ponders for a moment on how to say what he has to say without looking like he's insane. "Whatever I saw, it wasn't just in Doc. It was in you, it was in me, it was in Sam. I haven't checked Ace and Katsina, but it's probably in them too. I'm not that familiar with nanotechnology, but I don't think two or three Awakened people would have a nanite based problem inside of them.'
He pauses for a moment before speaking again. "Whether the thing I saw in us is caused by the artifact is debatable, but it still seems likely to me. Regardless, I think we should get rid of the obelisk, or at the least lug it along to prepare to get rid of it in a way that doesn't give us away." He looks at Doc. "I don't know what's happening to you, or whether having the artifact around will help. What I do know, is that the artifact seems to have caused us no end of trouble." Chino looks at the others before he settles back on Ohanzee. "You said this thing was valuable, right? Clearly, it's valuable enough for someone to send not one, not two, but three strike teams at us so far, and who knows how many more they will send? This thing is hot, way too hot for us to sell it somewhere, if we even remembered how to connect with someone to sell it to. Besides, do we need the money? We probably thought so when we accepted this job, but look at us now." Chino's arm gestures around at the room. "Look at us now. We are sitting into a house that we broke into, and trying to figure out how to make it look like we weren't here because we are running for our lives."
He sighs and continues, "That artifact is probably priceless. That means we must be pretty well connected and well known, to be hired to steal it, no? If we could remember our past lives, I'm sure we were not wanting for money. Or maybe we were, but that doesn't matter. Right now, we are focused on survival. That artifact is not helping us survive. The longer we have it on us, the more strike teams will come after us." Chino rubs his temple for a moment, then continues, "Plus, we have to lug it around everywhere. I don't know how long this hideout is going to last, but I wouldn't plan on more than another day, if that. You can levitate it, Ohanzee, but that leaves you distracted and busy. At the very least, that could get you killed, or it could get all of us killed. I don't want that to happen, and not just because we would lose your abilities. We're a team," Chino looks at Ace and Katisna, "All of us. Whether we were before or not doesn't matter, we've been thrown together by circumstance. Teams trust each another, and teams look out for each other."
He pushes his plate away from him and sits back. "I say destroy it. If you need another day or two to do some research or something, go ahead. I won't say I'm not curious about it and how it may be affecting us. Hell, if it can help us some way, then that's better. I still think it's too dangerous, even if it didn't put any mojo on us."
-
Katsina assenses everyone, per Doc's request. She tilts her head to the side, as if she cannot believe what she's seeing. Her voice is a mixture of curiosity and bafflement.
"I... see it. I've never seen anything like it. It's a virus, but inorganic."
She holds her hands up to express the limits of her knowledge, or her understanding of what she sees. She can't add much more than that, but she makes eye contact with Chino to confirm that what he saw was real. He didn't just imagine it.
"I don't know anything about nanites. What I do know about is Magic and crafting. We saw the obelisk. It's clearly older than 60 years, which means it is older than the Sixth World. It is magical, so that means it came from the Fourth World. Did this thing sit in the ground for 5,200 years just so we could blow it up? I mean, that's some Dunkelzahn drek right there. And I don't even want to think about the destruction of an artifact like this would do the astral space around here."
She actually pauses here and shakes the thought out of her head, as if she literally does not want to think about it.
"This is my world - the sorcery, the artificing - and I don't want to destroy the obelisk because it's an artifact of that world. It connects us to the past and those who came before. And I don't want to destroy it because the potential consequences are too horrible to contemplate. Bad things happen when you tear a rift in the fabric between the astral world and the physical world. Whatever nightmares you're having or have ever had, this would be worse."
She looks at Chino, as if she knew what he was dreaming - or at least could surmise it from his aura. Her tone is sincere, and borderline frightened.
"If we're not going to sell it, there are organizations that can study it, research it, maybe find out where our minds went. The Draco Foundation has an office in Denver. The Atlantean Foundation - Gloria Winters was a member, right? - would almost certainly be interested. There's the Dunkelzahn Institute of Magical Research and the Astral Space Preservation Society. There are plenty of people who could help, or at least ensure it doesn't fall into the wrong hands.
"But none of that gives us our memories back or tells us who we were. There are things we can do to give us some answers, and we can't do it all from the cabin. We should:
1) Find Ace's agent, or figure out what his assignment was here.
2) Find Gloria Winters if she's still alive, or if not find out what she knew that got her killed.
3) Reach out to our contacts to help fill in the blanks. Whatever we did last night, we did it with legwork.
"When it comes time to leave, I can go out in Ace's entourage. I can... look different."
Edit: Spelling
-
Finally! Someone else sees it; I was starting to second guess myself.
Chino just nods and stands up, picking up his plate and silverware. He deposits them into the sink, trying to be quiet in case anyone else speaks up.He opens the fridge and pulls out one of the few remaining beers. Frag getting found by a strike team, at this rate, we'll run out of stuff to drink!
He opens it up and leans against the wall, waiting as everyone is quietly thinking over what has been said. Hell, I don't know what to say myself. Katsina could be right, Ohanzee could be right, or I could be right. We might even all be right. Or all be wrong. Chino takes a swig as he muses silently about the problem.
-
"Okay, it sounds like we have 2 for destroying it, and 3 for not destroying it - at least not yet. I want to stress that destroying it is NOT off the table. I suggest that we take another vote this evening after we've learned more. But for now, we proceed on the assumption that we are keeping it in one piece. So, here's how I see things going for today:"
"Doc, find a car that will be missed, but not right away - it needs a few hours to make it to the next town. Program it to drive there and park somewhere that makes it seem like it's been ditched in a hurry. Then work with Chino to find our actual ride for the next day or two, something that won't be discovered missing for at least that long. Ideally, it should be large enough to hold us and the artifact. Again, for now we are working on the assumption that we are keeping it. And even if we do end up destroying it, the pieces would be worth keeping."
"Ace, Sam, and Katsina, get ready to go into town in case we need to. We'll probably need supplies - anything you can think of. Also, if we need boots on the ground to gather intel, you'll be the boots. Chino will return here once we have a vehicle and help keep guard - I don't want us spread too thin if things go south. I'll be providing astral overwatch from here as well as study the artifact."
"Considering Katsina's information on law enforcement here and our somewhat violent carjacking earlier this morning, I think it might be wise to cut our stay here short and leave PCC territory. Most of our contacts seem to be in Denver, so that might be a good option, but I am open to suggestions."
"Keep an eye out for trouble. If you don't need it on the grid, turn off wireless. If you do, have Doc add it to his PAN."
"Any questions or suggestions?"
-
Ace waits for Sam to make his case for destroying the obelisk, so that he can hear things straight from the source, and not through the garage door like last night, but the troll doesn't seem interested in revisiting the subject. As the others talk, he feels some of his old corporate schooling taking hold in his mind. 'Democracy is two wolves and a sheep deciding what to eat for dinner.' And this is the problem with democracy. There's one right call here, and no guarantee that a majority will make it. Tyranny of the majority, they called it. 'Of course, a republic is a more refined form of politics, where a political class is encouraged to seek compromise and consensus over a more primitive winner take all system, but one needn't look further back than the twentieth century to see its failing as well,' the voices of past teachers ran through his head. And then there was the meritocracy of Ares. What a load of bullshit, that was, but he could see their points.
"Okay, it sounds like we have 2 for destroying it, and 3 for not destroying it - at least not yet. I want to stress that destroying it is NOT off the table. I suggest that we take another vote this evening after we've learned more. But for now, we proceed on the assumption that we are keeping it in one piece. So, here's how I see things going for today:"
"Hold on, Ohanzee, I haven't cast my ballot yet. What happens if I vote to destroy it, and we end up tied? My guess is the same thing that happens if I vote to hold off, right? Without a majority, the proposal will not pass? Ok, well let's come back to it tonight."
"Ace, Sam, and Katsina, get ready to go into town in case we need to. We'll probably need supplies - anything you can think of. Also, if we need boots on the ground to gather intel, you'll be the boots. Chino will return here once we have a vehicle and help keep guard - I don't want us spread too thin if things go south. I'll be providing astral overwatch from here as well as study the artifact."
"Roger," Ace says. This all makes sense to him. "There's that nice looking RV at the house to the north. One elderly couple inside, by my count. That RV could go a long way for us, should we be able to keep the plate's off LE's radar."
"Any questions or suggestions?"
"Yeah, I don't think we're done here. We need to piece together a timeline for what got us in this room. You guys have heard my story. I've yet to hear yours. Do you have any idea when this team was formed? How far back your connections go? Do you have any contacts who may have been the agent I was sent to find? And then there's the chopper from last night. That thing wasn't Knights Errant, it wasn't Ares, and it sure as hell wasn't PCC. The logical tie is to Ohanzee, but I can only base that assumption on language. Any other ideas? Ohanzee, anything you've been able to remember or dig up on yourself that would explain what those boys were doing out here?"
-
As the conversation goes on, Sam becomes increasingly upset that he'd involved the rest of the team in his decision. He'd been right to trust Chino, but wasn't prepared for Doc's eavesdropping. He makes a mental note to remember that and not underestimate the spoon chewing decker again. Through listening, he is able to pick up some new information though.
"If this is the end of civility between us, you'd better come hard and fast because I'm not going to go quietly into that good night."
Sam just snorts and lets a smirk cross his face. That's assuming im NOT a corper AND that I was the type of runner who cared. Old prejudices are the farthest thing on the backburner to be figured out right now.
"I'm exhibiting clasic symptoms of an overabundance of hard nanites."
Nanites? That doesn't sound very ancient possessing, mind wiping magical evil.
With a furrowed brow, Sam asks, "So... are you sick? What is the endgame if you're not treated properly?"
"One exec with 5 bodyguards in one of the safest cities on the continent might be more than a little suspicious. We could limit the security detail to just Chino and Sam - by virtue of size alone they look the part. Katsina can act as a romantic interest - wife, girlfriend, paid companion, whatever. Of course, if Katsina refuses to take off her mask, it'll make it difficult for her to travel inconspicuously, even as a bodyguard, so she could just stay here with Doc and I."
"Or she could just take the damn mask off." remarks the troll, offhandedly between bites of scone. Still chewing a bit, he adds, "You know, since we're all trusting one another and everything..."
"The object is old, it is - just by mass and composition - extremely valuable, and it is highly magical. It is very likely unique and quite possibly sentient. It may or may not be malicious, but due to its value, destroying it without having all of the facts is something I hesitate to endorse. However, this is a democracy, and while many have deferred to my judgement, I do not act without the support and input of the team, so we must put it to a vote. Regardless of the outcome, I would like a few hours to study it before we destroy it, and I would like to attempt to communicate with it using my mindnet spell."
"You know where I stand."
"So, either the bomb was placed by someone else and we removed it, or we were taking it somewhere to destroy, very likely as part of a ritual. Or the artifact got to us before we could destroy it at the facility and forced us to extract it for some reason rather than simply make us fight to the death there. Or any of many other less likely scenarios."
"I do not believe I am skilled enough to have removed that bomb. It's got multiple triggers and failsafes as well as-" No. Don't share everything with them. "As well as other measures which more or less assure me, I created this bomb."
He pauses for a moment before speaking again. "Whether the thing I saw in us is caused by the artifact is debatable, but it still seems likely to me. Regardless, I think we should get rid of the obelisk, or at the least lug it along to prepare to get rid of it in a way that doesn't give us away." He looks at Doc. "I don't know what's happening to you, or whether having the artifact around will help. What I do know, is that the artifact seems to have caused us no end of trouble." Chino looks at the others before he settles back on Ohanzee. "You said this thing was valuable, right? Clearly, it's valuable enough for someone to send not one, not two, but three strike teams at us so far, and who knows how many more they will send? This thing is hot, way too hot for us to sell it somewhere, if we even remembered how to connect with someone to sell it to. Besides, do we need the money? We probably thought so when we accepted this job, but look at us now." Chino's arm gestures around at the room. "Look at us now. We are sitting into a house that we broke into, and trying to figure out how to make it look like we weren't here because we are running for our lives."
He sighs and continues, "That artifact is probably priceless. That means we must be pretty well connected and well known, to be hired to steal it, no? If we could remember our past lives, I'm sure we were not wanting for money. Or maybe we were, but that doesn't matter. Right now, we are focused on survival. That artifact is not helping us survive. The longer we have it on us, the more strike teams will come after us." Chino rubs his temple for a moment, then continues, "Plus, we have to lug it around everywhere. I don't know how long this hideout is going to last, but I wouldn't plan on more than another day, if that. You can levitate it, Ohanzee, but that leaves you distracted and busy. At the very least, that could get you killed, or it could get all of us killed. I don't want that to happen, and not just because we would lose your abilities. We're a team," Chino looks at Ace and Katisna, "All of us. Whether we were before or not doesn't matter, we've been thrown together by circumstance. Teams trust each another, and teams look out for each other."
He pushes his plate away from him and sits back. "I say destroy it. If you need another day or two to do some research or something, go ahead. I won't say I'm not curious about it and how it may be affecting us. Hell, if it can help us some way, then that's better. I still think it's too dangerous, even if it didn't put any mojo on us."
Ok, Chino is my boy.
Sam gestures at Chino with a scone in one hand and says, "Everything I was about to say, he just said. What are we going to do when we have to run too fast to bring that thing along?"
"If we're not going to sell it, there are organizations that can study it, research it, maybe find out where our minds went. The Draco Foundation has an office in Denver. The Atlantean Foundation - Gloria Winters was a member, right? - would almost certainly be interested. There's the Dunkelzahn Institute of Magical Research and the Astral Space Preservation Society. There are plenty of people who could help, or at least ensure it doesn't fall into the wrong hands.
Sam stopped and considered her words. She made a damn good point. Giving the Obelisk to the third party who was vastly more powerful than the Johnson would screw him over just as bad as blowing it up. Probably pay better too. He speaks up. "You know? That's an excellent idea! Why don't we get in touch with one of those organizations and see what they have to say about it?"
1) Find Ace's agent, or figure out what his assignment was here.
2) Find Gloria Winters if she's still alive, or if not find out what she knew that got her killed.
3) Reach out to our contacts to help fill in the blanks. Whatever we did last night, we did it with legwork."
"Ok, pardon me if I'm being thick, but who is Gloria Winters? People keep mentioning her. Also, I'm not putting any of my contacts at risk until I know more about what's going on. Simple as that."
"Ace, Sam, and Katsina, get ready to go into town in case we need to. We'll probably need supplies - anything you can think of. Also, if we need boots on the ground to gather intel, you'll be the boots."
"Any questions or suggestions?"
"Just one. This high class bodyguard act? It requires a better costume than what I'm wearing now. Unless we can find some well tailored troll sized suits around here somewhere, I just don't see anyone with a brain in their head falling for it."
-
Letting everyone get their thoughts in, Doc looks to Ohanzee.
"So you'd rather NOT get more information on the artifact, and just wait until tonight and have this discussion again? Sorry if I'm being dense," he says somewhat mockingly, "but if you need me out searching for a car, it's hard for me to do research or see to your medical needs. The only thing I could do from here to find a vehicle is find ones that are currently in use. Unless we want to go the carjacking route, that won't help much."
"That may have been a bit harsh... but if felt like me. I really think I was a smug asshole."
Shaking his head in a futile effort to clear the cobwebs, he continues.
"Sorry about that. You're the boss, if you want me out hunting for cars, I'll do that. Would be nice if we could find someplace that had some high-end medical gear anyway. I could use that to do a more thorough diagnosis on us. I think that's a longshot, but if we happen to stumble across a recently abanded hospital or lab I think it would be worth our while to do a little B&E." Sarcasm seems to be his mode at this point, regardless of its ineffectiveness.
Grabbing another beer, he looks at his deck with the still glitching screen and at the dressing that's starting to come off of Ohanzee's wounds. Without saying a word he just falls into doctor mode. Walking over to Ohanzee, he sits him down and starts re-applying the dressing and checking for any other injuries. Looking the dwarf over and seeing the exhaustion and stress starting to slowly wear on him despite the meta's fantastic constitution he relents. "I know you're trying to do whats best for everyone, lemme know where you want our resources spent and I'll follow your lead."
-
Seeing that it is gone, Katsina gets up to make a second pot of coffee. She's not drinking any of it, despite the short night of sleep, but she seems to enjoy how it smells. She seems to have figured out how to operate the upscale Aztechnology coffee maker at some point during her watch. Maybe she ate then too, or had a whole pot to herself to better stay awake. She carefully measures out the precious coffee grounds and sets the machine to make a new batch.
She scratches the top of head, starting to think about the logistics of leaving the cabin to get into town.
"We don't have any transportation except the snowmobile. We have neighbors now that might see us, and snow that will make tracks. And Mr. Wonderbread doesn't exactly strike me as the type to keep mixed company." She seems to be referring to the metahumans of the group. She taps her mask where her lips would be, looking pensive.
"We could get limo service, which would fit the role. Sam is right about the clothes though. His armor jacket is a little rough even for a bodyguard, and Ace's Armored Survivalist isn't going to cut it. No corporate mogul is going to be caught dead in that in a town like Aspen. Our host has cold-weather clothing but it's not armored. I could alter it to fit Ace and maybe Chino, but the thought of going out unarmored is unpalatable, given the circumstances."
She seems to be rethinking her idea. It's clear she wants to get out of the house, but the logistics are a challenge. But they'll never learn more just sitting around the living room...
"I have someone I can talk to learn more, the person that sent me after Ace. I can talk to her on the astral so it doesn't get traced back to us. Still, it would probably still be best if my body were elsewhere when I project.
"I don't know anyone at the organizations I mentioned. I don't even know how to get in touch with them other than calling the front desk. Maybe Doc or Ohanzee can make some discreet inquiries. But if we go that route we have to be as secure as if we were dealing with the Johnson. Nobody is above a profit-loss equation that says it's easier to kill six shadowrunners than fork over a million nuyen. Speaking of which, we need to figure out an asking price."
She hears Sam's barb about the mask and trust.
"I don't remember why I made the mask. All I know is it's a magical focus and I feel better wearing it. Maybe it's an addiction. I'll take it off if we're in public, but until then I feel better with it on. And if you want to talk about trust, Ace and I are willing to leave the obelisk here with three members of Blue Team. How is that for trust?"
-
"Hold on, Ohanzee, I haven't cast my ballot yet. What happens if I vote to destroy it, and we end up tied? My guess is the same thing that happens if I vote to hold off, right? Without a majority, the proposal will not pass? Ok, well let's come back to it tonight."
"You are correct. I have no desire to be the group's leader, but as I am thrust into the role, I get to break any ties. If anyone else wants the position, they are welcome to it."
The gathered members of the team probably saw the comment as ballsy, or even a challenge, but the truth was that Ohanzee really didn't care whether he remained the group's leader or not.
"There's that nice looking RV at the house to the north. One elderly couple inside, by my count. That RV could go a long way for us, should we be able to keep the plate's off LE's radar."
"It's not fast or maneuverable, but it's roomy and can likely take a beating if needed. Unless a better option presents itself, that's our ride out of town. We can work out the details later. However, while we are still in town, we probably need a smaller vehicle." He pauses for a moment. "As many cars as we're going through, the authorities are going to think some car theft ring has moved into town. But I don't have any thoughts on how to keep a lower profile and still meet our transportation needs."
His face goes slack as he appears to focus on information coming through his DNI. He glances at Katsina and nods as Ace continues.
"Yeah, I don't think we're done here. We need to piece together a timeline for what got us in this room. You guys have heard my story. I've yet to hear yours. Do you have any idea when this team was formed? How far back your connections go? Do you have any contacts who may have been the agent I was sent to find? And then there's the chopper from last night. That thing wasn't Knights Errant, it wasn't Ares, and it sure as hell wasn't PCC. The logical tie is to Ohanzee, but I can only base that assumption on language. Any other ideas? Ohanzee, anything you've been able to remember or dig up on yourself that would explain what those boys were doing out here?"
I've shared all of my contacts with Doc so that he can look into them, and I have suggested that all of you do the same. Information on our past is at a premium and I don't want anything to fall through the cracks. So far, the only thing to turn up is on one of my contacts, a Gloria Winters, who - as Doc reported earlier - has turned up missing. I did some further investigation this morning and it turns out her residence recently saw some violence. It is likely she has died, and not gently. Her body has not been found, but I am looking. Which reminds me; Doc, I know you've got a busy day today, but if you can find the time, I'd like to know what the police have found out - they have to have been by her house and seen the crime scene by now.
As for the strike team, I was attributing the language of the soldier to the area - Lakota is a common language in the Sioux Nation. The primary organized crime presence there is the Lakota Mafia, so if our guests weren't Ares or KE, then they become a strong option. But I'm not sure I agree that it wasn't a corp black ops team. What makes you so sure it wasn't?
"I do not believe I am skilled enough to have removed that bomb. It's got multiple triggers and failsafes..."
"So that rules out attaching it as a precaution. How long would it take to attach if we needed to scuttle it in a hurry?"
"So you'd rather NOT get more information on the artifact, and just wait until tonight and have this discussion again? Sorry if I'm being dense," he says somewhat mockingly, "but if you need me out searching for a car, it's hard for me to do research or see to your medical needs. The only thing I could do from here to find a vehicle is find ones that are currently in use. Unless we want to go the carjacking route, that won't help much."
"All due respect, you ARE being dense. The vote this evening is AFTER learning more about it. But if it helps, here are our priorities as I see them:"
"1. Stay alive. This is what the first part of today is working towards - getting a vehicle improves our odds of staying ahead of our pursuers. Misdirection is also a critical part of that plan. Supplies and information are critical to all of our objectives."
"2. Learn about the artifact. This takes the second position over our infection because there is a passionate desire to destroy it that risks dividing us, which goes against our first priority. Also, as Chino points out, the artifact is bringing heat which jeopardizes priority one. The power of the artifact makes simply blowing it up exceedingly dangerous." Again, he looks to Katsina as he says this. "The safest option may be to simply abandon it and leave it to our pursuers, but I don't believe for one second that that would cause them to give up their chase."
"3. Find out about the infection. So far as we can tell, it is not life threatening, so it isn't yet running afoul of our staying alive. But I'm not naive enough to think that that situation can't and won't change quickly. As the most infected, you might rightly place this as your second priority. And I could probably be easily convinced to swap these. I am more and more inclined as I learn about our infection that it is not caused by the artifact, so in my mind these remain completely separate issues until there is strong evidence to indicate otherwise. And likewise, either one of them, or neither, could be responsible for our amnesia. Which leads to number 4."
"4. Find out about our past, as Ace so emphatically pointed out. This gets its own position, but really it is likely strongly interweaved with one through three. It probably isn't required to achieve the other priorities, but would almost certainly make the tasks easier. And, considering our skill sets, not knowing about our pasts - and the demons they certainly contain - has the unavoidable potential to complicate priority one at some point, probably sooner over later. Number four also includes learning about our amnesia and whether it is related to item 2 or 3."
"Would be nice if we could find someplace that had some high-end medical gear anyway. I could use that to do a more thorough diagnosis on us."
"That's a very good point. If anyone has any ideas for how to get access to some high-end diagnostic equipment on the sly, let us know. Otherwise, you might have to add that to your list of things to look for while you're digging around the Matrix. Our away team should also keep an eye out for anything that might fit the bill. I wouldn't doubt that there are some high-end clinics about, so that might be a good nighttime activity. We could also reach out to the mafia, as they are certain to have some discreet medical facilities, but depending on what's in us, we may not want anyone outside this group privy to our scan results."
As Doc drinks his beer and tends to Ohanzee's wounds (ah, the glorious life of a Shadowrunner) he thanks him and responds to concerns about the plan to have Ace play dress up.
"A limo service sounds good, but I don't know if we can afford it, unless our unwitting host happened to leave some full credsticks laying around. Whatever you guys decide on, I'm good with."
-
"I do not believe I am skilled enough to have removed that bomb. It's got multiple triggers and failsafes..."
"So that rules out attaching it as a precaution. How long would it take to attach if we needed to scuttle it in a hurry?"
"Seconds." He hopes that sharing this information with the group will ease up on their feeling as if they need to watch him or keep him away from the artifact, because if he'd wanted to ignore the groups wishes on the matter, he had more than enough time to do it last night.
-
Looking over to Sam Doc says, "Is there any reason to NOT attach it now? If it's only seconds for you to do it, but you may be away from the area when we need it blown I'd rather that not be the reason you don't get to enjoy it going to bits." Doc hopes this will let everyone, especially Sam, know that he's not against blowing it, just wanting to make sure it's not essential to there survival first.
Turning to Ohanzee he says, [color-red]"Aye-aye Cap'n! I think it's best that I fix my deck before diving too deeping into getting into more trouble, then I'll go about finding us a good get away vehicle. Once I find it, I'll get Ace and Chino the location as I can't drive it. And I don't think we want to have it go on auto. I'll get it to invite marks from Chino, and then he should be able to DC into it and drive it somewhere close by that we can hide it. Then I'll find a decoy car to send off as a wild-goose chase. That one I'll let the Grid Guide drive so we don't have to split Chino's attention. That'll be fire and forget. Then I'll start doing some research. Unless directed otherwise I'm going to focus my time on the artifact so we can come to a resolution on that first. And I might get some info about various potential interested parties along with it, but if I don't once that's done I'll start going that way."[/color] Now that there's a plan, he seems to relax quite a bit.
Looking around it occurs to him he's the only one with absolutely no digital past. There's no record of his contacts, no information on where he lived or who he knew. He's got less than 16 hours of history recorded data stored on his new deck and most of that was running for their lives or sleeping.
"Do we have any possible leads beside Gloria? Outside of hacking the local PD, I won't have access to any more info than the news feeds have, I'm sure any of you could get the basics on that while I'm looking into the artifact."
-
Chino silently drinks his beer as the others argue. Damned if we do, damned if we don't; no matter where we go, it's got a problem to it. You would think the whole world was pissed off at us, but no, it's only one group; a group with a drek ton of resources.
As each plan gets shot down, Chino remains silent, for the most part. Finally, he speaks up.
"Maybe we're thinking about this the wrong way." That got everyone's attention. You started it, might as well finish it. He pushes himself off the wall and finishes his beer. "We keep looking at plans and finding what's wrong with them. We need to find what's right with them."
He moves towards the pot of coffee, checking it; it isn't done yet. "All our plans so far get us stuff we need, and they do so in a way that can help us survive. That's the important part. What's the drawback? We can't find a way to do them without being noticed." He looks towards the window. "Sam and I will be very noticeable in this weather, and the snow is going to leave tracks. We can risk being noticed, if it means we get all of our goals accomplished. We need to be ready to leave though. That might mean we need to spend today gathering information and preparing ourselves. It's not glamorous, but everyone knows the trids lied when they said Shadowrunning was glamorous."
Chino pauses as the coffee pot chimes, indicating that it is ready to drink. He pours himself a cup, but doesn't drink it yet. "Getting ourselves a vehicle and getting out of here is the easy part; doing it without being noticed will be impossible. What we need is a distraction, or better yet, multiple distractions." He continues, his entire posture and demeanor calm, "The second car idea is not a bad one, but we could do so much more." He looks at Sam, "You think you could rig up something dramatic and noticeable? Like a snowmobile blowing up when impacting a fence a block away? Hell, I'm not sure what would be more effective; just blowing up the snowmobile, or blowing up something a bit more important." He knocks on the counter. "Like one of these houses." He picks up a bottle cap and flicks it in the air. As it flies through the air, he says, "Click." As it lands he says, "Boom."
Chino lifts his coffee cup up and takes a sip.
-
"Seconds." He hopes that sharing this information with the group will ease up on their feeling as if they need to watch him or keep him away from the artifact, because if he'd wanted to ignore the groups wishes on the matter, he had more than enough time to do it last night.
Ace nods appreciatively at the troll's comment. After the smirking and smart-ass bit, it's good to see him play the part of a team member, despite the posturing.
As the rest of the conversation wears on, Ace jumps in, "I can't help but think we're making this more complicated than it really is. We've got the RV next door, and not much in the way of defense. Katsina and I can over there to borrow a cup of sugar, or whatever, and make the RV ours. Doc can continue his work, and we'll have an out should we need to make it. With a vehicle, I can go into town and get clothes for us, should we be able to solve the nuyen problem. A second car as a distraction is a good idea, but it's one that we can probably solve when we're making our exit. That said, I don't want to stay here too long, so whatever the plan is, let's get to it."
-
"Is there any reason to NOT attach it now?"
"Because it is near impossible to remove. If it takes seconds to attach, we will hopefully have plenty of time to attach it should we need to in a hurry."
Ohanzee listens to Chino's plan. "I'm not sure I follow. Is the explosion in order to keep people looking the other direction while we enter and exit the cabin, so we can do so unnoticed? I'm afraid it might attract more attention than it would deflect. I'm willing to entertain the idea, but I strongly think that stealth and subterfuge is the proper play here. But it's not without its challenges."
"Getting Ace out of the house is fairly easy as he can disguise himself to fit in. Katsina might be more difficult as we don't have any women's clothing for her to use to fit in. Doc is the biggest help to the team staying put here, and I can provide assistance without leaving. So that leaves you and Sam. Katsina says she might be able to tailor the clothes we have to fit you, so perhaps you'd be the better choice for the away team over Sam. That would also put you in a position to obtain a vehicle. But if Katsina is correct, and Ace having metas in his entourage would raise suspicion, perhaps you both should stay here and we'll just have to forego the obvious bodyguard component. Assuming Katsina can find clothing for herself, they'd be the only ones that could reasonably leave the house without raising suspicion. Well, and Doc, but I think we'd all rather have him stay here."
"If Doc can get a car into the garage without needing a physical driver, we may not need you to go outside at all. In which case, there is no real need for a distraction. Yet. It is certainly worth having the option available in our bag of tricks." Ohanzee concentrates for a moment and the coffee pot explodes into fire, rapidly climbing up the curtains of the kitchen window it was sitting near, engulfing them in flame. Ohanzee snaps his fingers, and the illusion vanishes, leaving the curtain and the pot unscathed. "If we need a quick distraction, I think I can cover that base."
"A second car as a distraction is a good idea, but it's one that we can probably solve when we're making our exit."
"The point of the second car is to help take the heat off of Aspen while we are here. Executing it when we are ready to leave would defeat that purpose, though depending on how events unfold, it might be valuable to do again at that point."
"But I fear you are right, we may be overthinking this. It might not be too conspicuous to have Ace and Katsina use the snowmobile to get around town - this is a vacation spot after all. That makes the motor home a valid option for our get out of town ride. That leaves us only needing the decoy car and the disguises to get Ace and Katsina into town. That seems simple enough."
-
As for the strike team, I was attributing the language of the soldier to the area - Lakota is a common language in the Sioux Nation. The primary organized crime presence there is the Lakota Mafia, so if our guests weren't Ares or KE, then they become a strong option. But I'm not sure I agree that it wasn't a corp black ops team. What makes you so sure it wasn't?[/color]
"The language, the equipment, their look, everything. A black ops team of operators is going to look markedly different from those guys, and they'd probably be quite a bit more multicultural. No, these guys were used to hard living, and they didn't speak English. Plausible deniability from Ares? Maybe, but not likely. Again, their look was just too homogeneous. You may be onto something with the Lakota Mafia idea. I mean, even the average person in the Sioux Nation speaks English, so a group of Lakota-only speakers has got to be rather insulated, right?"
-
Katsina looks back and forth as the suggestions fly. She's about as familiar with stealing cars as she is frying eggs.
"I think we had the right idea when we came into town, which was to have as few people see us as possible. I agree with Ohanzee that explosions are going to attract more attention than they deflect and that stealth is our best approach.
"My concern about the presence of metas in an entourage was more in regard to our neighbors, who might know our host. Once we're in town I doubt it will be an issue.
"Speaking of the neighbors, I think we can snag the RV fairly quickly if we're pressed for time, yes? It's too large for the garage so even if we appropriate it early it will have to stay outside. Since we can't conceal it - unless Ohanzee wants to maintain an illusion on it all day - we should probably leave it in place until we're ready to relocate.
She listens to the idea of taking the snowmobile into town with Ace. She looks to him.
"You know how to drive one of those things, right? Because I don't. And are snowmobiles even legal on the street? Or should we take the ATV?
"I've got some cash in my account if we need to hire a car service instead. There should be options for all the corpers who fly into town. I can also get some supplies if we assemble a list."
She looks torn about the idea of going into town without a third person for backup, but she nods to Ohanzee's plan.
-
Doc rummages around in his pockets and pulls out a cred stick.
"I've got a bit of cash on here. Ace should have no problems getting supplies with it. At the very least, we need refills for the medkits. It's got almost ¥2k on it."
He tosses the credstick to Ace.
"Won't do me any good dead, but if there's anything left I'd like it back as that's all the money I have in the world."
-
At the talk of a shopping list, Ohanzee speaks up.
"As disconcerting as it has been not knowing the face of a trusted associate, Katsina has a good idea. Considering the illegality of most of our activities, something to hide our faces would be a wise call. The mask she's wearing, though less customized of course, will do nicely, and they aren't terribly expensive. If you have some nuyen, I think it would be wise to spend it on one. Also, a further suggestion would be to grab a micro transceiver. Doc can provide some great protection for our gear, but he's spread pretty thin. If he needs to go offline for a spell, we need a way to maintain secure comms over distance. They are also quite cheap. And considering the Matrix threats Katsina intimated, extra precaution seems warranted."
Ohanzee hands a credstick to Ace. "Same deal as Doc - I'm going to arrange for some stuff for me that I'll need you guys to pick up. There's enough on the 'stick to cover it and some extra to help with group supplies like medkit supplies, but if there's anything left, I'd like it back."
Dolphin's high-pitched voice reaches him over the Astral, with news that is chilling, though not unexpected. The spirit delivers it dispassionately. The game is done! The quarry has been found. She will not be playing any further games - her life-force is extinguished. Ohanzee knows the location of the spirit - simply knows it though his connection to the summoned ally - and makes note. He will have to inspect the body later to see if he can piece together what may have happened.
Thank you, Dolphin. You have played well. Perhaps next time I will have an even greater challenge for you. The spirit broadcasts something that could almost be interpreted as happiness - at the praise, or the prospect of a future challenge Ohanzee could not tell - and then the link fades as the spirit returns to its home.
"Dolphin has found Gloria. Her body is to the North East of here a ways. Considering the taint of violence at her home and the location of her body, she was likely dumped there. I'll try to get more information later."
Seeing the pause in the conversation as people absorb the news - the team didn't know her, but it seemed likely that whoever was after them probably killed her, which brought home a certain sense of mortality - Ohanzee took the opportunity to summon an air spirit. White Raven would not be powerful enough this time - in addition to concealing the six members of the team, Ohanzee felt it would be prudent to have the spirit hide the artifact as well. A more powerful spirit would be needed.
He chanted as he focused his will, summoning above his pay grade, as it were. This would be difficult, and not without risk. But the task was still far more difficult than he had expected. With tremendous effort of will, he pulled forth the spirit he needed. He did not see the spirit - he was not perceiving on the astral, but the spirit's words came to him through the link that bound them.
I will grant you your favor, hard won. While you are yet beneath me, you show promise. Perhaps you will some day prove a worthy ally. White Raven indicated that your pursuers are determined and that vexing them was most amusing. Am I correct to surmise that I shall enjoy that same opportunity?
Yes, great spirit. They seek myself and the five others in this room, as well as the bright aura in the next room belonging to an ancient and powerful construct. It shines brightly in the true realm and so needs a powerful spirit such as yourself to keep it hidden from those that will come looking for it.
I am aware of the - The word was unfamiliar to Ohanzee - you have in your possession. You play with many things you are not yet ready for. You would do well to be mindful of your limits - but I admire those whose reach exceeds their grasp. Only time will tell if I have misjudged you. But today, I am compelled to help you, and perhaps I will watch with interest as well.
With a nearly imperceptible feeling - like a light impact on your funny bone, but all throughout your body - the concealment spell took hold on the team. Hopefully this would keep them safe - safer - for now.
The little dwarf found the nearest available seat and slumped into it. With any luck, the concealment from the spirit would throw off any progress their pursuers might have made towards finding them during the window between sunrise and now when there was no magical protection in effect. They would likely know soon enough.
-
"I'm not sure I follow. Is the explosion in order to keep people looking the other direction while we enter and exit the cabin, so we can do so unnoticed? I'm afraid it might attract more attention than it would deflect. I'm willing to entertain the idea, but I strongly think that stealth and subterfuge is the proper play here. But it's not without its challenges."
"It's an additional distraction when we bail." Chino shrugs. "Just an idea."
As everyone pitches in their credsticks, Chino remembers he had one too. "Be back in a moment," he grunts. He quickly goes to the bedroom he slept in and returns with a credstick. He slides it to Ace. "Should have something around 2k on it. I'm not sure how much need for money we'll have for a bit, so use your judgment."
He takes another drink of the delicious coffee. "It's probably best if only Ace and Katsina go into town; I have the feeling rich folks don't look too kindly on Orks or Trolls."
-
As breakfast breaks up, Katsina pulls Ace into the master bedroom to take his measurements. She finds shears, needles, a measuring tape, and thread - none of which look like they've been touched in years. (There's also a good deal of yarn and knitting needles, suggesting Mr. Moran has an interesting traditional hobby or that they are someone else's.) She claws apart the host's closets looking for fashionable clothes she can tailor for Ace's benefit. Putting them on him, she jabs needles in the clothes to mark the spots where to take them in.
"I need to hem the sleeves and dart the jacket. I'll take in the waist of the pants so they don't fit you like a clown costume. Give me an hour."
She finds a camouflage suit in vivid green that's clearly meant to be worn during the summer. Since it is the wrong color and insufficiently insulated, she doesn't feel bad about cutting it up to steal some of the ballistic cloth to add to the clothes she is tailoring. Katsina uses the manual tools expertly, as if she had been sewing for many years. She tries to use Magic Fingers to mimic a sewing machine but immediately regrets the idea, giving it up quickly as too clumsy. She eventually produces an outfit that will provide Ace some armor and insulation while allowing him to look good and blend in. It's a clear improvement from Ares Armored Survivalist suit.
Once complete, Katsina takes ten minutes to inscribe a couple new preparations before disappearing into the bathroom to address her own appearance. She emerges from the master bathroom without her mask. She looks like a half-Japanese, half-Russian elf, young and very pretty: appropriate arm-candy for a corporate executive. She's wearing something from Armanté's new winter line. It mixes Native American and old American styles in preparation for the Olympics which are going to be held in Seattle. She holds out Ace's new outfit for him.
"The town car will be here at 13:30, which is in fifteen minutes. Cost is ¥60 an hour, two hours minimum, plus gratuity. I used my fake SIN, so call me Ivana. The SIN lists me as a Japanese elf, age 18, and will hold as much water as a sieve so let's not put it to the test. The SIN is for Aztechnology, so I went with Armanté instead of Zoe. Aztechnology was a major supporter for Vitorrio Armanté’s shadow war with Zoé to recover the rights to the line name back in ’73. What do you think?" She holds out her arms and spins around, playing the role of a bubble-headed floosie nicely.
"I'm going to cast another spell to detect nearby enemies. It's going to require a lot of concentration to keep the spells sustained. Treat me like a ditz when we're in town; it will fit the role and I'm not going to have much mental bandwidth anyway."
With that, she closes her eyes and casts Detect Enemies, her features lighting up with a candle-like glow momentarily before it dies back down.
-
Somewhat relieved that he's no longer on the "Town squad", Sam continues to eat and waits until breakfast is over and the group has broken up somewhat. Before Ohanze leaves the room though, he says "One more thing. I have a contact in my comm, mentioned only as 'mom'. I contact her everyday at 3:05 and we only speak in code, it seems. A code that appears to have something to do with weapons or explosives or something. I forwarded you all the correspondence I had with her earlier on the way here. Now, 3:05 draws near and I'm not sure how to proceed. Will you take a few minutes and help me look over these message logs and see if we can't figure out this code together? I worry about what will happen if I don't message or if I message in an incorrect manner."
-
"One more thing. I have a contact in my comm, mentioned only as 'mom'. I contact her everyday at 3:05 and we only speak in code, it seems. A code that appears to have something to do with weapons or explosives or something. I forwarded you all the correspondence I had with her earlier on the way here. Now, 3:05 draws near and I'm not sure how to proceed. Will you take a few minutes and help me look over these message logs and see if we can't figure out this code together? I worry about what will happen if I don't message or if I message in an incorrect manner."
Upon hearing this, Chino speaks up, "I might be able to help you with that. I don't have "Mom" in my commlink, but my guess is that this," he shakes his commlink, "Was a burner. I do remember that Mom was someone we sent weapons to; I remembered," he pauses for a moment, trying to find the right words, "prepping some weapons to ship to her. Perhaps it will jog my memory and I can help you figure it out?"
-
"One more thing. I have a contact in my comm, mentioned only as 'mom'. I contact her everyday at 3:05 and we only speak in code, it seems. A code that appears to have something to do with weapons or explosives or something. I forwarded you all the correspondence I had with her earlier on the way here. Now, 3:05 draws near and I'm not sure how to proceed. Will you take a few minutes and help me look over these message logs and see if we can't figure out this code together? I worry about what will happen if I don't message or if I message in an incorrect manner."
Upon hearing this, Chino speaks up, "I might be able to help you with that. I don't have "Mom" in my commlink, but my guess is that this," he shakes his commlink, "Was a burner. I do remember that Mom was someone we sent weapons to; I remembered," he pauses for a moment, trying to find the right words, "prepping some weapons to ship to her. Perhaps it will jog my memory and I can help you figure it out?"
Ship weapons to her? I assumed 'flowers' meant money for weapons.
"Ok, Chino. I'll take all the help I can get."
-
Ace tries on Katsina's handiwork and stands looking at himself in the full-length mirror in the master bedroom. This is more like it. "Thanks," he says through the bathroom door, as Katsina puts on the finishing touches for her ditzy bimbo costume. He finds that his arm slide and concealable quick-draw holster work well with the new outfit, but decides to leave the machine pistol at home. If I really end up needing that thing, we're probably fragged anyway, he reasons.
When the sedan from the car service pulls into the driveway, Ace and Katsina make their way out the door, and Ace tips an imaginary hat at the rest of the team, though they all seem preoccupied with their own tasks. Ace closes the door behind them and leads Katsina by the small of her back to the waiting car where the driver stands ready to seat them. Ace lets Katsina sit first then enters from the opposite side and says to the driver, "Hoi, I'm glad to get out of that cabin, but this one's not going to be happy until she's burned through my credstick here, am I right? First stop is clothing, then maybe a light lunch followed by more shopping. I'll take whatever recommendations you've got. Kickbacks are fine and all, just make sure the quality's there, alright?"
Ace takes whatever suggestion comes from the driver in a kind of flippant wave, "Yeah, yeah, whatever, let's go," and spends the majority of the car ride complaining about his fictional boss, Briggs, who must be quite an asshole from the display Ace is making. When they get into Aspen proper, Ace quiets down some and tries to keep his eye out for any clinics or cafes that might prove useful. When the car pulls to a stop outside L. Bradley: Fine Clothiers, Ace gives the driver a solid pat on the shoulder. "Alright, give us a half hour or so," before looking to Katsina, and then he adds, "Better make it forty-five."
-
The driver is a professional but Katsina still catches his eyes drifting down to her décolletage. She puts on her best space-cadet smile, which isn't hard given the concentration she requires to keep spells active and sustained. She lets Ace lead her along so that she doesn't slip and crack her head on the slippery steps. It's going to be very strange if she's suddenly wearing a black lined jacket and a ballistic mask instead of looking like a perky ski bunny.
<<@Ace [Katsina] No hits on Detect Enemies. The driver is safe. No enemies within 150 meters.>>
The driver, a thin young ork who looks like he's had some cosmetic surgery to polish his skin and shorten his tusks, nods to Ace's request and wordlessly pilots the black SK-Bentley Concordat into town. He listens politely to Ace's complaints, which he seems to accept at face value, but doesn't sustain the chatter himself. He doesn't even introduce himself, perhaps learning long ago that clients in Aspen just don't care. His ARO identifies him as "Calvin". Katsina leans on Ace and purrs her sympathies.
There is no parking in front of L. Bradley: Fine Clothiers, so Calvin drops his passengers off and indicates that he will await their call nearby. The clothes shopping goes smoothly. After dropping off the purchases with Calvin, they visit a small cafe for a late lunch. Katsina orders a light salad and pushes it around her plate like an anorexic gold-digging elf might. Ace keeps up the expected airs of a high-powered corper while also ensuring that they are not being followed.
After lunch, they go for a walk to their next destination. Katsina unexpectedly directs Ace to the west, saying, "Let's walk this way. There's something I want to see." She leads them toward a more residential section to town. It's quieter over here with less foot traffic.
After a block or two, Ace gets the notion that they're being followed. He turns around and sees that they're being followed by three men. They look blue-collar, as much as one can in Aspen. The front man is a husky human male. His two buddies are orks and are also large.
<<@Ace [Katsina] Still no hits on the spell. I don't know what they want. They're not hostile. Well, not to me at least.>>
"Hey!" the lead man shouts. "Hey, I want to talk to you! Yeah, you, Mr. Big Shot. You stole my girl!"
Ace and Katsina exchange a look. The men get closer.
"Yeah, don't act all innocent, you slot. Mireille, elf, meter-and-a-half, long dark hair." They realize that he's describing APB perfectly. "I've seen you going in here with her." He points to the apartment building to your left. "Yeah, I seen you go in with her. Been waiting for you to come back.
"So, what, you're done with her already? You're on to the next one? Got a thing for dark-haired elves, I see. Think you got it where it counts, do you? Want to find out?" He pushes up his sleeves a bit.
His buddies chime in after looking around for witnesses.
Ork 1: "Gonna get wet around here, and we ain't talking about snow, chummer. You wanna be a cutter or a leaker?"
Ork 2: "Ever make idiot wine? Find a guy moving in on your girl and STOMP 'IM."
-
With a solid plan for next steps, Doc heads up to the office he's more or less commandeered. He gets his tools kits out and starts working on repairing his cyberdeck. It's not much damage, but he doesn't want to start a day at anything less than best chances as almost everything is less than optimal right now. No sense in taking a handicap if he doesn't need to. After about an hour he's got everything as good as new again. As he's tidying up, he hears Ace and Katsina working on the new garb.
With that accomplished, he sits back and escapes from the pressure of the meat into his comfort zone of VR. The world vanishes before him, and he is finally back in the real world. The world of data and information where everything is at his fingertips. His pinstrip suit with the disturbing messages subtly inscribed continues to represent at least part of who he used to be.
With a wave, he changes his icon to a faceless white male form. Almost like a luminescent manikin from the late 20th century. But instead of a brite white that might imply purity or godliness, it's a muted grey. More like an idea that hasn't fully formed yet. Looking at himself, he realizes there are much more import things to do than play with the way others in the Matrix see him. Doc calls up the agent, and has him resume watching the area around the house and making sure there is nothing sneaking up on them. Then rolling up his non existant sleeves, he gets to work looking for information on the artifact.
He starts with general information, trying to do image matching and such for the artifact. After 15-20 minutes of intensive searches an using various algorithms he finds nothing. "Hrm... that's odd, not even scrap of an image?" Moving on, he starts with what little concrete information he has. Gloria Winters. She has an enormous amount of data on here. The world reknown arcanoarchaeologist specializes in Fourth World Artifacts. The location of her latest investigation is undisclosed. Doc starts digging deeper on that thread and finds that there are whispers in the community about it being done in some hallowed ground or otherwise religiously significant location. Peicing together what little details he's able to gather and the timing of when Ohanzee began to communicate with her Doc surmizes that Ohanzee was probably working her for information on the artifact.
After a couple of hours of peicing together what information he has he starts digging around for more specific information from Dr. Winters. He spends the next four hours pouring through more arcanoarcheology research papers than he could have even imagined existed he begins to get a sense of her research. But Doc can not find anything on their artifact which seems odd to him. This would have been the sort of thing she would have been writing a lot about. He comes the conclusion that all of her notes must be locked up on a host somewhere.
He looks at his local time readout and sees that it's 19:34 already. He writes up his findings and sends it to the team.
<<<@Team [Doc] There is nothing out in the open that I can find about this artifact. That data is really well hidden and/or being actively hunted/erased. I'm hoop deep in data with none of it specific to our target. However Dr. Winters is another story. If we can find where she was doing her latest research I'm sure I can get her notes. Have we found any more info on her residence or office?>>>
<<<@Ohanzee [Doc] You still want a car sent to another city? I can just grab one from a parking lot at random and get it to set off some alarms once it gets there.>>>
-
As Ace turns to face the trio approaching he sends a quick comm to Katsina:
<<@Katsina [Ace] I hope whatever we're looking for here is worth it ;-)>>
As the lead man speaks, and Ace gets an idea of who he's talking about, the gears start turning. Well, here's a lead. at least we have a name now. Still, he wishes the information was coming to him under better circumstances.
"Hoi, chummer," Ace says putting his hands up, palms forward, "I'd honestly rather not get into it with you fellas, but" he activates the slide at his wrist and pops the taser into his open hand before leveling it at the human. "If you want to keep threatening me, I will defend myself as is my right as a citizen of the Pueblo Corporate Council. How do you think SecForce is going to like a bunch of tuskers and street trash accosting good tax-paying citizens, eh? No, best to step back now before you get your hoop caught in a vice, omae. And remember, whatever happens with your buddies here, you're going first, and you're going to go down hard. Now buzz."
Ace can feel the synaptic boosters working their magic, and he prepares himself for whatever his new friends might throw at him.
-
Katsina tenses up, gripping Ace's arm reflexively. It's doubtful she's actually frightened but she seems to be playing her role.
<<@Ace [Katsina] Watch it. Smells like these guys were at the pub for lunch.>>
Ace does note that the men are upwind of his position, but how Katsina could smell that at 20 meters is beyond him. Speaking of 20 meters, Ace knows that he's at the extreme limit of his taser's range. If these guys throw down some iron he's going to be at a serious disadvantage unless he closes the distance.
<<@Ace [Katsina] Don't let it come to a fight. Just get out of here. I'll take care of things my way and rendezvous with you in half an hour.>>
Luckily it doesn't come to that. The men freeze up at the sight of the taser. They stop in their tracks and backpedal slightly, although their rhetoric doesn't change gears.
Human: "A taser? Yeah, that seems about right, tough guy. You watch your back. We'll be seeing you soon."
Ork 1: "Yeah, real soon."
Ork 2: "Yeah, watch your back, slotlicker."
Human: "Eat your dandelions. My father's la familia, got it? We don't put up with this drek."
Ork 1: "Your mother played with fairies."
Ork 2: "Balls."
-
As the trio of metas begin to back up, Ace holds his ground and endures their taunts. Once they've passed the corner he slides his taser back up his sleeve and looks to Katsina. "Do I look like an elf? Guess I should take it as a compliment. Wish we could get you in astral to see where they're headed. They could be a solid lead."
Gesturing to the apartment building, Ace says, "Well, let's give a look since we're here," and he approaches the door to see if he can gain entry.
-
Once the group breaks up and leaves the kitchen, Ohanzee heads to the bedroom in the loft - his unofficial sanctum, but before he makes it to the door, Sam speaks.
"One more thing. I have a contact in my comm, mentioned only as 'mom'. I contact her everyday at 3:05 and we only speak in code, it seems. A code that appears to have something to do with weapons or explosives or something. I forwarded you all the correspondence I had with her earlier on the way here. Now, 3:05 draws near and I'm not sure how to proceed. Will you take a few minutes and help me look over these message logs and see if we can't figure out this code together? I worry about what will happen if I don't message or if I message in an incorrect manner."
Ohanzee was aware of the messages and the schedule, but with the events of the early morning, and the utter exhaustion, he hadn't had the time to put any thought into the code. Before he could say as much, Chino piped up with some new information on the group's relationship with "Mom".
"I don't know how much help I can be, but I'll help however I can. I don't think Doc has any free time, but I imagine if anyone is good a codes and secure communications practices, it'd be him. Maybe he can at least point you in the right direction with a few minutes of inspection."
Once in the bedroom, Ohanzee lies back on the bed and looks over the list of items the team has sent him. After an hour or so of online negotiations, the shopping was complete. All that remained was the pickup and payment. He forwarded the info to Ace and Katsina - locations, a list of items to get at each, and an itemized list of amount owed per team-member. They had just stepped out to their hired ride, so they could easily fit that into their plans. A few items would not be ready until tomorrow, so he notified the team of their items' status. Finally, he forwarded Ace 50 nuyen for the binoculars as those were available for immediate pickup.
Shopping complete, Ohanzee scanned the location history on his commlink, hoping to retrace his movements for the last few days - particularly with regards to where they might have extracted the artifact from, but found them conveniently erased. Apparently Ohanzee was more than a little paranoid about his commlink being compromised before his mind was wiped. A practice Ohanzee figured was prudent to continue. He spent the next few minutes erasing what he could from his commlink - checking first to see if perhaps his former self hadn't fortuitously overlooked it - and leaving only those things that were either innocuous or necessary - contacts, SIN, etc. On the off chance that he should be struck by amnesia yet again, he composed a summary of the events of the last day and what they had sussed so far, including any relevant data such as messages. He added one more thing to Ace's shopping list - security tags. Once he had one, he would copy the file to it and set it wireless off, then conceal it somewhere about his person. He forwarded an extra 5 nuyen to cover the cost. But for now, the commlink remained vulnerable - he hoped that Doc didn't have any bad luck in regard to their Matrix security.
Now for the hard work.
>>@Team [Ohanzee] Going out of body for a few. I'll check back in occasionally, so message me if you need anything.
He slipped into the astral, rising slowly out of his body as he took in his surroundings. Keeping an eye out for trouble, and blending in as best he could, Ohanzee made his way to Gloria's house to look around.
-
The door lock unclicks when Ace and Katsina get within 5 meters. An ARO chimes, "Welcome home, Ivana! Good to see you again, James!" as they open the door. Katsina gives Ace a raised eyebrow.
Ace can feel the men staring daggers into the back of his head. He wonders if they'll be there when they get out.
The elevator doors open without prompting. Stepping in, the doors close as the elevator takes Ace and Katsina to the fourth floor without asking.
Katsina says, "I didn't want to come here last night because I thought it might be compromised. Plus we didn't have the gas to make it this far. Now that we're here, I'm not getting any hits on the spell. Let's see who we used to be."
Walking down the fourth floor hallway, Ace and Katsina stop at the door of unit #443. There's a biometric reader to open the door. It's keyed to both of them, so they enter without issue.
Inside, the apartment looks like an upper-class flophouse. It's scarcely furnished, more like a hotel room than an actual living space. There's a modest trid set and some decorations of questionable artistic merit.
Ace and Katsina find many of their personal effects inside. Additional clothing, toiletries, some of Katsina's carvings, etc. They also find a good deal of evidence suggesting that they were looking for APB together. There are notes which suggest that APB was frequently seen at a dive bar called Zed's with a guy who roughly matches the description of the man who just confronted you outside.
-
First thing Ace does is check the number of beds in the apartment to see the extent of his past relationship with Katsina. Next, he starts to tear into the art on the walls, looking for anything he or Katsina may have hidden there. Then he's on to the drawers, looking for credsticks and anything else that may tell them about their past lives and their search for APB. It's disconcerting being in the place. "Does this bring you back at all?" he asks. "I got nothing."
As he wanders around the apartment Ace wonders out loud, "Now if I was me, and I was living here, and I didn't take an assault rifle on this job, where I would have stashed it? I'm guessing I have one, had one, whatever, but where would I have put it?" He tries the closet, the kitchen cabinets, under the cushions in the sparse and funky couch.
In the bathroom Ace checks the cabinet for any meds he or Katsina may have, and keeps his eyes peeled for a medkit. Looking at himself in the mirror, which he must have done countless times, the strange disconnected feeling intensifies. This is so weird.
-
Ohanzee drops in on Gloria's house and is immediately overcome by a wave of nausea. The background count of the place makes his heart drop and his stomach turn upside down. The place is largely discombobulated, with furniture overturned and possession scattered. The only signs of life are Gloria's plants, and those aren't doing well because someone has broken all of their pots.
Ohanzee remembers that a missing person's report was filed on Gloria. If SecForce has been through Gloria's house, they certainly didn't clean up much. Still, he keeps an eye open for any SecForce spirits or personnel that might be keeping an eye on the place. He spies a watcher patrolling outside dutifully - the background count inside being too much for it to tolerate. Between the White Raven's concealment and his own sneaking efforts, Ohanzee has no trouble slipping in and out undetected. He wonders if the watcher were there when Dolphin came and went earlier today. Did Dolphin get noticed or did Dolphin take it as part of the hide-and-seek game and stay hidden accordingly?
The dwarf is only too happy to leave the house, the astral environment outside being as refreshing as mountain air on a brisky, windy day. He checks in on Ace and Katsina, who are still shopping at this point. Katsina is assensing when Ohanzee swings by. She gives him an astral nod and an indication that everything is under control.
Ohanzee then goes to check on where Dolphin found Gloria's body. It is deep in the mountains northeast of town. The area is densely wooded and well away from all roads. There is thick and deep snow all around her body, with no trails or paths leading up to it. The astral force from her body is almost nil. Her remains are frozen, indicating that she's been here at least overnight. Closer examination of the corpse suggests that she is missing some fingers. The background count here is frigid and painful, suggesting this is where she may have actually died. The tainted mana races through Ohanzee as if it were an icy wind, constricting his lungs and tightening his chest. Ohanzee shudders to think of what the researcher must have gone through at the house to create a background count there too. Gloria suffered greatly in her final days.
At the apartment, Katsina looks through some of her possessions. She examines the carvings, recognizing her telltale marks.
"It's like a scene from a dream," she answers Ace. "Something you recognize when you see it but that you didn't remember just a second before." She finds her spare clothing. It's highly organized, hanging neatly in the closets and folded crisply in the drawers. She grabs a duffel bag and begins packing it up. Once she's done, she gives Ace's stuff the same treatment while he's busy dismantling the artwork.
After coming up empty in his quest for firearms, Ace joins Katsina in the bedroom to go through the drawers. While checking his socks, he feels something hard about the size of his thumb. Unrolling the socks, he finds a commlink. He slots it in his Hermes Ikon to check the balance.
>> Zurich-Orbital Gemeinschaftsbank
>> Silver Certified Credstick
>> Current Balance: ¥8,760
Katsina raises an eyebrow: "Looks like you had a bit of an expense account. Maybe I should have gotten that scarf at L. Bradley after all."
-
<<<@Ohanzee [Doc] Can you add a winter mask to your shopping list for me, one of those fancy ski balaklava type things? Money when Ace brings my credstick back.
...
balaklava.img
>>>
-
Ace opens the refrigerator door.
"It's like a scene from a dream," she answers Ace. "Something you recognize when you see it but that you didn't remember just a second before."
"I know exactly what you mean." he says peering inside. He comes up with a packet of Baco-soy and opens it. "This I remember liking. Think one bite will bring it all back?" He takes a bite of the chewy-crunchy goodness. "Nope, but totally worth it," he says with his mouth still full, smiling.
"On the other hand, what do you suppose these were for?" he asks pulling out a few packets of 500ml red blood cells.
After coming up empty in his quest for firearms, Ace joins Katsina in the bedroom to go through the drawers. While checking his socks, he feels something hard about the size of his thumb. Unrolling the socks, he finds a commlink. He slots it in his Hermes Ikon to check the balance.
>> Zurich-Orbital Gemeinschaftsbank
>> Silver Certified Credstick
>> Current Balance: ¥8,760
Katsina raises an eyebrow: "Looks like you had a bit of an expense account. Maybe I should have gotten that scarf at L. Bradley after all."
"Maybe," Ace says a little dumbfounded. "Where do you want to go for dinner?" Anyway, we should probably wrap it up here. We still need to find a car. Maybe we should head down to Zed's. If we can get Doc to hack our new friend's car, and he puts it together, that could buy us some time on a couple of fronts. Do you mind taking a peak around the apartment building in astral space? I'd rather not walk into an ambush if we can avoid it."
-
Katsina goes limp on her bed, and wakes back up only a few seconds later. After she confirms Ace's fears that the fellows from earlier are still outside the apartment building waiting for them, and that they have their car in tow, Ace fires off a message to Doc.
<<@Doc [Ace] I'm pulling my commllink out of silent mode for the next 5 minutes. I'm in an apartment in a residential area in Aspen. Downstairs we've got some not-so-friendlies, and I think we can put this to our advantage. Can you maybe hack some comms? Once they're parked for a bit, that should be the car we boost. Let me know if any of this unclear.>>
Ace waits to receive a message from Doc, and finishes his Baco-Soys while he's at it. As he paces the apartment he ponders his exit strategy. They didn't seem to care much about Katsina here. That's a good thing. So, I can call SecForce and say there's a group of unsavory looking characters hanging around this apartment building, and that would probably get them shooed off, but there's no way I want my comm linked to that mess. I could fight them, but that seems unwise in the same way as my first idea. Well, maybe I can outrun them. These Instigator legs have got to be good for something.
Ace pulls up GridGuide on his commlink and maps out a primary and 2 secondary routes to get him back to a main shopping street. Ok, this might work. "Katsina, I'm going to make a run for it. When our friends give chase, make sure they've left LoS before you come out with our duffel bags. Get to a cafe as soon as possible and call our driver. I'll rendezvous with you then."
On the way down in the elevator, Ace can feel his pulse quickening. These are just a few low-level punks, what the hell am I getting so worked up about? he wonders. When the elevator door opens, Ace starts a light jog, and by the time he's reached the foyer doors, he's almost to an outright sprint. He pauses briefly at the awning to catch sight of any cheap-shots or thrown bottles tossed his way, and he's off into the neighborhoods of Aspen.
-
Doc is surprised to recieve a message from Ace.
<<@Doc [Ace] I'm pulling my commllink out of silent mode for the next 5 minutes. I'm in an apartment in a residential area in Aspen. Downstairs we've got some not-so-friendlies, and I think we can put this to our advantage. Can you maybe hack some comms? Once they're parked for a bit, that should be the car we boost. Let me know if any of this unclear.>>
<<<@Ace [Doc] Keep that thing running silent. I've got your location, lemme scan the area to see what you're talking about. Gimme 30 seconds.>>>
With that, he moves seemlessly through the matrix to the address Ace gave him and starts to filter out all of the devices in the immediate vicinity.
-
Doc is surprised to recieve a message from Ace.
<<@Doc [Ace] I'm pulling my commllink out of silent mode for the next 5 minutes. I'm in an apartment in a residential area in Aspen. Downstairs we've got some not-so-friendlies, and I think we can put this to our advantage. Can you maybe hack some comms? Once they're parked for a bit, that should be the car we boost. Let me know if any of this unclear.>>
<<<@Ace [Doc] Keep that thing running silent. I've got your location, lemme scan the area to see what you're talking about. Gimme 30 seconds.>>>
With that, he moves seemlessly through the matrix to the address Ace gave him and starts to filter out all of the devices in the immediate vicinity.
<<@Doc [Ace] I'm making a run for it, so if you see any icons tagging along on mine, those are your chummers.>>
-
After seeing firsthand the backgrounds at Gloria's house and body, Ohanzee sighed to himself on the astral. He still wasn't sure that this wasn't done by him, but the evidence so far - mainly the remoteness of the body's dump location and the lack of nearby trails, strongly indicated an air drop. A spirit could have drug her out here and dropped her - or even a levitating dwarf. Ohanzee shivered, not at all a response to the icy astral background her death had created. But more likely a helicopter. He felt that this made it less likely that he was directly responsible, but that was probably just wishful thinking.
Time for a status report.
Ohanzee returned to his body, quickly adjusted to the physical world and caught up on what had been happening while he was "out". Then he updated the team.
>>@Team [Ohanzee] Gloria died violent. There was one heck of a struggle at her place, enough to taint the Astral realm in the area, but she didn't die there. There is a watcher outside the place, so someone has set up watch to see who comes looking for her. Her place was tossed, so whoever killed her was looking for something. Unless SecForce are bigger slobs than I've been lead to believe.
That might also make it less likely to be us, Ohanzee thought, but didn't share his hopes with the others. It seemed that I was likely able to get everything I needed quite a bit less violently, and over a week ago judging by the time I stopped communicating with her.
>>@Team [Ohanzee] She died where her body rests. Whether from a fall or exposure I'm not sure, but she's been there at least a day. The location is remote with no easy access, so she was most likely dropped there, making the fall the more likely candidate for cause of death. She is, however, missing some fingers - I'm not sure what that means, but it was a little odd as in the pictures I've seen of her she very clearly has ten digits. Anyway, Doc, if you can spare a few minutes, I'm sending her location - maybe her commlink is there.
>>@Team [Ohanzee]
Attachment: Gloria Home Address; Gloria Body Location
<<@Team [Doc] They might have taken her fingers to use on a biometric device. Did she have both of her eyes?
Ohanzee couldn't believe he hadn't made that connection - especially since he'd been thinking of using biometrics only minutes before.
>>@Team [Ohanzee] Hoop me! I didn't notice. Give me a few seconds to go check.
Again, Ohanzee slipped into the astral and headed to Gloria's body. He looked again for any missing body parts, then returned to his body and relayed the results.
That done, he got up and headed down the stairs to the room with the artifact.
Time to see what we can learn about this thing. He heard the Air Spirit laugh in his head, but chose to ignore him.
-
Katsina studies Ace while he pulls the transfusion packs of blood out of the refrigerator. "We should take those with us," she says after a moment. "I'll pack up the fridge."
At Ace's request, she stretches out on the bed and astrally projects. It isn't difficult to spot the three men waiting for them by the front door. They're hiding around corners and behind posts, waiting with a wrench, a beer bottle, and a hammer. She returns to her body, sits up, and gives Ace their positions.
"I'll get the cooler and the bags. I'm sure you can handle yourself but be careful anyway. I'll be on overwatch and will trip them up if you hit a snag." She doesn't relish the thought of layering another spell on top of the two she has active, but even a weak Mana Bind would slow down any pursuers considerably.
She moves over the window to watch his departure. A minute later he hits the front doors at full speed, blasting them open and thoroughly startling the hoods. One of the orks is busy digging for gold but the other ork and the human are more alert. The human steps out from behind a post to take a swing at Ace's face with his wrench. Ace activates his hydraulic jacks at the right moment and zigs two meters to the side, causing the wrench to completely whiff. The ork, awestruck at Ace's speed, chucks his beer bottle. It misses, leaving Ace unharmed and with plenty of room to run.
Ace looks at the ground, grateful that last night's snow was dry and powdery. It compresses easily, providing plenty of traction. He slows his pace a step, just in case he hits some black ice, but for now he's home free.
-
After crossing the street and finding a good alley to run down, Ace turns around, still jogging backwards, and taunts his opponents. "What? One and done? No wonder your girl went off with me, chummer. A little stamina goes a long way," With that, Ace fakes his legs going out from under him and hits the street hard. "Oof," he exaggerates the sound of air being expelled from his lungs. He comes up to his knees, looking woozy, and shakes his head twice. "Ah, fuck, man," and tries to pull himself up on a nearby dumpster. Come on, guys. Easy pickings over here.
-
The men think twice about giving chase, but the fact that Ace runs down an alley gives them hope that maybe they can beat his brains out without a large audience. His taunting dissolves whatever remains of their composure. A ruby haze of anger and cuckoldry descends over their eyes as they charge after him.
-
Ace stands up groggily, looks at his pursuers in mock terror, and heads off into the alley. He's moving much slower now, and weaves a bit as he does so. He calls up GridGuide and reroutes his approach to the shopping district, planning to take the nearest right before he turns the heat on again.
<<@Katsina [Ace] I'm fine. Just a bit of show. These guys should clear your LOS in less than a minute. Be ready.>>
-
Ohanzee informs Sam and Chino of what he is about to attempt and makes sure they are comfortable with their preparations. The first part should be innocuous enough - try to fight against the overwhelming brightness of the artifact and study it astrally, as well as in the physical world. The second part would be trickier - actually touching the artifact. He hoped that wasn't what triggered the amnesia from before, but even so, compared to step three, it was low-risk. The final part of the examination would involve communicating with it - touching it with his mind and listening to its ancient whispers. He shivered at the thought as he steeled himself and opened his mind to the vivid shapes and colors of the astral.
Immediately he is forced to look away by its brilliance, and finds himself starting into a pair of shimmering eyes. It takes him a moment to realize that it is the Spirit of Air that he had summoned earlier, and slowly the rest of the spirit's body drifts into focus. No, that's not what happened. The background faded OUT, revealing the deep black body of the spirit. But not all black - pinpoints of light, like stars, winked in and out across the body of Celestial Crow.
I can tell you what you need to know about your prize, Celestial Raven said, the mirth evident in its voice. As a gift. Or perhaps for my amusement. It should not matter to you which.
Ohanzee's avatar, normally that of a medicine man, but tall as a human while still being unmistakably dwarf, appeared to shrink beneath the gaze of the powerful spirit. The intelligence and long lived wisdom the spirit possessed were nearly a physical presence here on the Astral, and they were impressive. The black raven he had summoned earlier surely had this same effect, being even more powerful, but in the heat of combat, Ohanzee had not had the opportunity to bear the focused attention of the spirit for long. But Celestial Raven watched the tiny dwarf with intensity. It was all Ohanzee could do to keep his voice from not coming out as a peep.
I would be grateful, oh spirit, for any assistance you would offer.
It is to be a weapon - more specifically, a bomb. The great bird preened, but the near eye never left the dwarf.
I know that already, Ohanzee thought. I don't need to know what I already know.
But under the withering attention of the vast spirit, such an affront as accepting a gift without grace would be unconscionable. Thank you , great spirit. Ohanzee started to turn back to the artifact, but Celestial Raven laughed.
You do not see the value of my gift. I could tell you about the artifact itself, but it would cost you, and that is not what you need to know, merely what you wish to know. Your pursuers are persistent, and have vast resources. It has been stimulating to foil their attempts, but even I cannot hold them at bay forever. They will find you soon enough, and when they do, you will be prepared or you will perish. Knowing the original purpose of the artifact will have little affect on the outcome, but to know why you have it - that is knowledge you can leverage against your foes.
The background of the Astral faded back into view, again leaving just the eyes, two starry pinpoints, then Celestial Raven blinked, and was gone from sight. He was still there - Ohanzee knew because he could still sense him through the link he had to any spirit he summoned - but he did not wish to be seen. The spirit had said its piece, and now stepped aside for Ohanzee to continue with his task.
He knew that it was a bomb - a powerful one, if Katsina's warning was not an exaggeration - and he had suspected that they were taking it somewhere to destroy. No, not destroy - detonate. The pieces began to fall into place. They were weapon smugglers. They had obtained a bomb that was powerful enough to rend the fabric of the universe. The artifact itself was a MacGuffin, it didn't matter what it did, just that it was magically powerful enough to cause the desired damage if it was destroyed.
That presented two possibilities; the more likely was that they were delivering it to Mom for some buyer - a Johnson of unimaginably foul intent - or that they had intended to use it themselves. Were they would-be terrorists? He could see no other possibility.
Or could he? What if it was related to the infection they had? Perhaps there was a source that they had discovered and they intended to destroy it before it spread beyond control. Or perhaps it could somehow save themselves - if it was technological or magical, it might be controlled by some central entity like a hive mind.
He should probably wonder why Celestial Raven had chosen to provide this information unbidden, but with the revelation fresh in his mind, he could think of nothing else.
>>@Team [Ohanzee] I have had an epiphany that might impact how we deal with "Mom".
He relays his thoughts to the team, then turns his attention back to the artifact. It might not be valuable in surviving their enemies, but it might be something they could sell for resources, which could indirectly help them survive. And it'd be easier to sell it if they knew more about what it was.
Celestial Raven chuckled briefly again. Ohanzee really wished he'd stop doing that.
-
As an afterthought before fully training his attention on the artifact, Ohanzee makes a suggestion.
>>@Team [Ohanzee] We could probably use an eye in the sky, maybe a small drone. I know they cost a couple grand, and I don't have anywhere near that much, but if we think its something we want to do I can pitch in about 80¥ and make the arrangements.
-
Katsina turns away from the window when she loses sight of Ace and his pursuers. His comm'd message comforts her, and she knows he's more metal than man anyway, but that doesn't mean that she isn't concerned. Drawing SecForce attention would be bad, even as a victim. A fight in the streets could earn scrutiny from elements who are almost certainly waiting for the team to slip up or for the bonds of the group to break down. She moves quickly into the bedroom, abandoning her previously-tidy packing efforts in favor of simply stuffing clothes into a couple large duffel bags. It looks like they each had enough clothing to last for a week, although her clothing options were decidedly more limited than Ace's. She must have relied on the Physical Mask spell for outfit changes.
She tosses the bags into the entryway and then races into the living room, stuffing her personal effects into a backpack. Slinging it over her shoulder, she heads to the kitchen. She finds a cooler in the cupboard and some ice packs in the freezer. She quickly dumps the processed food out of the fridge into the cooler, but then slows down the handle the blood. She habitually checks the expiration dates on the transfusion packs and mentally notes than many are nearing their expiration dates. She's happy to have them but wonders where they are from. Stolen? Payment? She passes one back and forth between her hands, feeling blood move within the pack, before finally setting the rest of them on top of the refrigerated food. After sealing the lid of the cooler she drags it to the front door. For a moment she wonders if she can handle two duffels, a backpack, and a cooler. With a strong Magic Fingers this would be easy but she's already sagging under the weight of two sustained spells. Sighing internally, she throws the duffels bags over her shoulder and bends down to drag the cooler. There's an Increase Strength preparation sitting in one of her pockets but she'd prefer to save that for an emergency.
<<@Calvin [Ivana] Calvin, please come to this address. I am waiting with luggage.>>
<<@Ivana [Calvin] Right away, Miss Kutchukokoph.>>
Katsina drags the bags down the hallway and into the elevator, certain that she looks ridiculous, but at least she doesn't look like herself. As she pulls her things into the lobby, she receives a message from Ohanzee.
>>@Team [Ohanzee] I have had an epiphany that might impact how we deal with "Mom".
She listens to his theories as she waits in the lobby for her ride.
<<@Ohanzee, Team [Katsina] You think that it's a bomb? That doesn't make any sense. If it's a bomb then why would Sam make a bomb to blow it up?>> She thinks things over.
<<Who told you that it was a bomb? Celestial Raven??>> Ohanzee can practically feel her incredulity through his trodes. <<Raven the trickster? The prankster? Sly, conniving, devious, opportunistic Raven?>>
She pauses for a moment, suddenly aware that her extreme skepticism may be coming across as excessively rude.
<<I don't think it's a bomb. When we first woke up, I saw the aura of the obelisk on us. All of us. I don't think I'd be seeing the astral signature of a bomb on our auras.>> Ah, the dry wit. <<The signature faded steadily as we got up the hill with the crate. I'm guessing that we somehow triggered the obelisk, lost our memories, then crashed. That's the model which fits the data.>>
-
Ohanzee goes downstairs to examine the obelisk more thoroughly. Assensing it is the first step, even if it hurts. Opening his astral vision, he's practically blinded by the spotlight, deafened by the waves of power rolling off the obelisk. His head rolls as he tries to grasp the age and immensity of it all. Foci and artifacts of the Sixth World are young things, less than 70 years old. This obelisk though screams its age, an ancient relic of the Fourth World. Instead of 70 years it has had 7,000 years to concentrate mana, to deepen its connection with the land, to store its power. It is the product of an age far more magically advanced than Ohanzee's own. He realizes his role is reversed: he is the caveman, and the obelisk is the futuristic tool or technology.
With his eyes and ears swimming, he returns his senses to the physical world. Still dizzy from the experience, he reaches out to touch the obelisk. Nothing happens, although the artifact itself is cold - colder than room temperature. It feels like metal or a stone than had been left in the refrigerator. It bleeds the heat away from his hand but the surface never seems to warm up. He moves his hands over the base, feeling the geometric forms carved into it, then moves to the tablet on top. It is covered with inscriptions in dozens of different parts, some with their lines raised and others seemingly carved into the face. He searches for patterns but finds none. The inscriptions are unintelligible.
Finally, most bravely, he casts a spell to communicate with it. A small one, intended to limit the exchange. He reaches out with this mind, touching the obelisk with the spell as gently as he had touched it with his hands. A murmur rises in the back of his mind. It's a garbled noise, like dozens of voices speaking at the same time, overlapping and washing each other out. He strains, trying to improve the connection, trying to single one out, but the increased focus only makes the stream stronger, not clearer. He leans back, uncertain of whether a stronger spell would allow him to differentiate the noise or whether it would just turn up the volume. But at least the experiment didn't kill him, or drive him insane, or steal his memories again. Call it a success from that standpoint.
-
His pursuers seem to close the gap between them quicker than Ace had expected. At one point he can almost the human reaching out with his hands to grab him by the scruff of the neck, but Ace turns up a little bit more heat in his legs and takes a sharp right down another alley. The snow is practically untouched here, and while the powder provides a good crunch, he has to be careful of his footing for fear of coming down solidly on some black ice. "If I go down now, this is going to get a whole lot more serious. The orks trail farther and farther behind as Ace weaves between alleys and across smaller streets, the GridGuide overlay in his field of vision helping him avoid any dead ends or switch-backs that might put him at risk of being cut off.
Finally, when they've put a few hundred meters between themselves and the apartment building, Ace holds up his middle finger on each hand and really turns up the heat. "Watch your hoop, chump," he warns the man gasping behind him. "I'm not done with you by a sight." Ace goes as fast as he can for the next 50 meters or so, and then slows back to a jog, and has practically finished catching his breath before he turns back onto the main shopping street. Now that he's back around polite company, Ace checks his comm and frowns. This drek just keeps getting weirder. Wish I understood more of the mojo stuff. He fires off a few messages before finding Katsina.
<<@Team [Ace] My financial situation has changed. Unsure about how useful a Fly Spy would be, but I can help cover the cost of clothes and medkits.>>
<<@Doc Ace] Any luck with our friends?>>
<<@Katsina [Ace] I'm down near Cafe Nochabi. Where should we meet?>>
Upon receiving a reply from Katsina, Ace heads down to finish shopping.
-
After the experience with the artifact, Ohanzee shuts his eyes - astral and physical - and takes a deep breath. He's notified that there are messages waiting for him - he had tuned out his commlink during the examination.
<<@Ohanzee, Team [Katsina] You think that it's a bomb? That doesn't make any sense. If it's a bomb then why would Sam make a bomb to blow it up?>> She thinks things over.
<<Who told you that it was a bomb? Celestial Raven??>> Ohanzee can practically feel her incredulity through his trodes. <<Raven the trickster? The prankster? Sly, conniving, devious, opportunistic Raven?>>
She pauses for a moment, suddenly aware that her extreme skepticism may be coming across as excessively rude.
<<I don't think it's a bomb. When we first woke up, I saw the aura of the obelisk on us. All of us. I don't think I'd be seeing the astral signature of a bomb on our auras.>> Ah, the dry wit. <<The signature faded steadily as we got up the hill with the crate. I'm guessing that we somehow triggered the obelisk, lost our memories, then crashed. That's the model which fits the data.>>
Ohanzee is confused for a moment at the misinterpretation of what he had said, but finally sees how Katsina might have misunderstood.
>>Katsina, Team [Ohanzee] Sorry, I've been preoccupied and am just getting these messages. I didn't mean to imply that the artifact itself was a bomb. It is simply a concentration of magical energy. The bomb that Sam constructed is more like a trigger - it destroys the artifact, but the artifact's destruction releases the magical energy.
He remembers the power, the unfathomably vast accumulation of mana over thousands of years.
>>So much magical energy that it disrupts the barrier between the physical world and the Astral one, causing mana warps, perhaps even deeper tears into realms beyond the Astral. The devastation would be incalculable.
>>But, I see your point. Raven, in all his forms, is a trickster, and the information was freely given. It is suspect, but the only other explanation I can see for the bomb that Sam made is to hold the artifact hostage from whoever hired us to steal it. But that doesn't track because the bomb, once attached, is not removable - you wouldn't attach the bomb unless you intended to use it. That's a poor negotiating tactic, unless there is a way for us to remove it safely and reliably that no one has mentioned. In which case, why not attach it immediately?
>>And really, both you and I are knowledgable enough to know how catastrophic destroying the artifact would be and our help was needed to create Sam's bomb. Why would we go along with something that would be as suicidal as building a nuclear weapon as a simple negotiating tactic?
>>No, destroying the artifact had to be the intent, not a "just in case".
>>And my mind must have been foggier than I realized this morning, but this is the first mention I remember hearing about you seeing the aura of the artifact on all of us after waking up. Not that it surprises me - it is almost certainly responsible for our current condition - but it at least confirms that the artifact has had an influence on all of us.
>>But, in the interest of exploring alternative options, let's reconstruct the timeline as we know it. The last communication we know of as our "previous selves" is between Sam and a Johnson at 10:10pm yesterday. It did not go well. The next point in time we are aware of is waking in the van at Midnight this morning. That's two hours unaccounted for, during which we were unconscious long enough for the battery to die down - that's what? An hour? So could the bomb have been built in an hour? If so, maybe it was built in response to the conversation with the Johnson, in which case we knew what would happen if the artifact was destroyed and we helped build it anyway, just to spite our employer.
>>Or we came with the bomb already built. Maybe we were supposed to destroy it on site and once we laid eyes on it we realized that would be suicide, and that precipitated the call to the Johnson. But how could we have been surprised by the artifact if we knew enough about it in advance to build the bomb meant to destroy it?
>>Again, everything leads to us having known in advance what destroying the artifact would do, and choosing to destroy it anyway. So, we are either destroying it despite the risk - in which case the artifact itself is dangerous and we just need to destroy it in a location that minimizes collateral damage, or the artifact itself is a component for our ultimate weapon and the location where we choose to destroy it is the target.
Ohanzee hoped he was clear this time. Admittedly, he was less certain about his epiphany, or rather the conclusion he came to after Celestial Raven's encouragement. But it still made sense, more sense than any other scenario he had considered. Perhaps another team member had a suggestion that made more sense, or a piece of the puzzle that utterly disproved his working theory. But until then, he would focus on learning about the artifact. In a few hours there would be another vote on the object's fate, and he wanted them to have as many facts as possible.
He thought about the voices he had heard - almost heard - as he attempted communication with the ancient device. If it had stolen their minds, were those voices perhaps their attempt to reach out? he decided that perhaps if he focused on listening for one voice - one he knew well; his own - that maybe he would have better luck.
Opening his mind again to the artifact, he cast the Mindlink spell and listened...
-
The Blue Team brain trust puts their heads together on the question of the code between Sam/Frank and Mom. Sam provides a translation for the Russian. Doc tears into the code, his mind being perfectly suited for challenges such as these. The others chime in occasionally, with Ohanzee making some particularly good observations. The general conclusions - mostly Doc's - are thus:
1) Sam/Frank sends a coded message to Mom each Friday at 3:05pm.
2) Mom responds shortly thereafter.
3) Sam's messages are always phrased as questions.
4) The timeline of the messages overlaps with the planning phases for this job (e.g. the timeframe that Sam has been using the Ralph SIN, the timeframe of Ohanzee's communication with Gloria Winters, etc.)
5) It is likely that Mom is involved with this op somehow, either as support or as an overseer.
6) Mom's final response arrived 5 minutes later than usual. This suggests that she had to consult with "Dad" or someone else before responding.
7) The fact that the last communication with Mom was on January 25th and the short call with Gift Shop was on January 26th may suggest that Sam's coded message was a request to meet or talk to someone, which would make sense given Mom's response (even though "Dad" and "Gift Shop" are listed as separate contacts).
Given all that, Sam feels that he needs to send a question in Russian at 3:05pm exactly. Not phrasing it as a question or sending it early or late will break the pattern, which might be okay (like a distress signal) or might be bad (a breach of etiquette or signaling that he has been compromised). It is unclear of whether repeating one of the earlier questions would raise a red flag or if it would generate the same response as it did before.
-
Calvin arrives to pick up Katsina. She dumps her bags on the ground and steps into the back of the car when Calvin opens the door for her. The young ork pops the trunk wirelessly and deposits the duffel bags, backpack, and cooler in with the previous clothing purchases.
<<@Ace [Katsina] I'll pick you up from Café Nobadachi. Nochabi, whatever. We'll pull up to the curb and you can jump in. We'll drive to the outdoor outfitters for the binoculars, balaclava, and the medkit supplies. I'm not sure if we want to risk a separate stop for ¥5 security tags or if we can wait for tomorrow when we get the biometric reader.>>
Ace merges back into polite society and is a block away before his pursuers finally make it to the street behind him. They look around frantically and finally spot him as he's crossing the street down the block. They also spy the SecForce patrol passing by. They give up the chase, leaning against the wall of the alley to catch their breath and formulate what they're going to do to that elf-stealing motherfragger when they finally corner him in a dark alley on some noisy, stormy night.
Ace makes it to the café safely and doesn't have to wait long before the black S-K Bentley Concordat pulls up in front. Katsina opens the door and Ace steps in smoothly. To anyone on the street it looks like your average corper getting picked up by his driver and his Japanese/Russian elven jailbait. How sweet that life must be!
"Calvin, take us to Hamilton Sports, p-" She almost says "please" before remembering her part. She adopts an imperious look instead. Calvin just nods.
Katsina continues to play her role, leaning up against Ace and twisting her fingers around the hair on his neck. Suddenly she flinches.
<<@Ace [Katsina] I got a hit on my spell. Someone looking for us. At the outside of the range, maybe 150 meters. Not getting closer. I don't think they know where we are but they're looking.>> She puts an AR tag on a shared map, marking a spot two blocks away. Luckily, it's in the opposite direction from the next store they want to visit. <<Keep your face turned toward me and away from the windows.>> She touches his face, directing it towards hers, then leans in for softly murmured nothings.
-
Ohanzee casts again, subconsciously leaning forward as if that might improve his connection. Try as he might, separating out the voices is a fiendishly difficult task. It's like trying a room full of 30, 40, 50 people all speaking at the same time. And it's not just the voices, it's the flashes of images, like watching dozens of trids at once, and a flood of emoting. There's fear, there's excitement, there's utter confusion, there's unparalleled joy. He struggles forward through the mishmash, trying to listen for a voice that might be uniquely his. The languages are varied. He catches a word or two of Lakota, or was that Eastern or Western Dakota? But his people have been in this country for millennia - who's to say that the voice in this ancient artifact is his? There are other voices too - many English, some Russian or another Eastern European language, maybe Or'zet, even Sperethiel. Male, female, it's impossible to tell them apart. He can't pick out one; all he can say is that there isn't just one.
-
Hovering over downtown Aspen Doc spots Ace's person as it starts darting out of the building, quickly being followed by three other personae. Sneaking through the matrix, he zips from persona to persona using his scalple to make percise inscions. On the first target he slips and cuts himself, cursing as he see's its mark land on him. Despite this he moves on to the other two for good measure and easily inserts his caduceus on each of them. Moving back to the first persona, and with his second attempt is easily able to inscribe the medical symbol on him. He then brushes away the mark that he was sloppy enough to allow on. Luckilly, the owner was too distracted to notice any of this.
Now that he could see more of what was going on, he stopped hiding and looked carefully at each of them, searching for any vehicle devices slaved to any of them. Turns out the first persona, the one that gave him trouble, happened to have a Toyota Gopher slaved to his comm. Spotting that, he incises his caduceus on the device three times in quick succession. With that accomplished, he simply tells it to drive off to Carbondale.
<<<@Team [Doc] Ace, you're friends car is headed off to Carbondale, you want me to keep an eye on them?>>>
-
<<<@Team [Doc] Ace, you're friends car is headed off to Carbondale, you want me to keep an eye on them?>>>
<<@Doc [Ace] It sounds to me like you've got plenty to do today, Doc. Good work chummer. We're finishing up here, so we should see you soon.>>
In the car, it's much nicer to be tied in with Katsina, even if she doesn't really look like herself, than to be playing his role for the driver. Cheek to cheek with her he whispers, "Did you get a hit on our friends from the apartment building, or is this a new threat?" After hearing her reply, Ace adds, "I'd like to take a look at rifles when we hit up the sporting goods store. If we find trouble on the run again, my machine pistol isn't going to cut it. It seems I was our up close man, but the situation has changed."
When they're dropped off at Hamilton Sports, ace tells Calvin to sit tight, while he and Katsina join the throngs of other shoppers picking up supplies for their nice vacations in Aspen. The store is bright, and Ace notices that the AROs are well-made and expansive. He's particularly drawn to the one of snow bunnies hawking the newest snowboards, but he has work to do. Still,he wonders if that was a hobby of his. The terminology seems familiar. He dutifully leads Katsina around by the small of her back as the two pick up supplies for the team.
-
>>But, I see your point. Raven, in all his forms, is a trickster, and the information was freely given. It is suspect, but the only other explanation I can see for the bomb that Sam made is to hold the artifact hostage from whoever hired us to steal it. But that doesn't track because the bomb, once attached, is not removable - you wouldn't attach the bomb unless you intended to use it. That's a poor negotiating tactic, unless there is a way for us to remove it safely and reliably that no one has mentioned. In which case, why not attach it immediately?
<<@Team [Sam] The bomb IS removable, but it would be very difficult for anyone but me to do so. As for not attaching it right away, its on an hour timer, max. Thank the ghost we DIDN'T attach it right away, or it would have blown while we were unconscious in that van. >>
-
<<<@Ace [Doc] Sounds good to me. Happy hunting, and send pics of my new clothes when you get a chance eh omae?>>>
Doc then slips a tracer icon onto the Gopher as it sends itself happily down the road. With that done, he quickly reconfigures his 'deck so that he can keep track of how long he has before GOD comes knocking on his door.
Musing on the happening of the past 24 hours and some of the thoughts other have had, Doc pipes up:
<<<@Team [Doc] Just a thought guys, I'm pretty sure Sam could have built that bomb in the same timeframe that I was re-owner-izing (yeah, I made up a word, sue me!) this schnazzy 'deck. That would have put it in the middle of the run. That's not to rule out that he could have pre-built it and brought it along, or planned to build it mid-run the whole time. I know some folks have been noodling on it, and thought I'd throw that out there. I'm going back to search on our good Dr. Winters. Holler if anyone needs anything.>>>
And with that he gets back to his previous investigations.
-
Katsina leans into Ace to whisper her response. She glances to see if Calvin is watching. He is, the cheeky bugger - his eyes dart away from the rear-view mirror - but he's not a threat. He's just living vicariously through the corper with the eye candy in the backseat.
"Someone new," she whispers. "Not the blue-collar guys." She decides to comm the team to fill them in, and to avoid exposing Calvin to things it would be best not to know.
<<@Team [Katsina] We have people looking for us in town. Or, more precisely, people hostile to me in town. Picked them up with a spell but the details are hazy. I'm guessing there are at least eight. No indication that they know where we are or where we're going, but be on your game.>>
They arrive at Hamilton Sports. The store is bright and airy and attractive to tourists. At this time of year it is heavily oriented toward winter sports. The hunting gear has been relegated to a small section in the back. Katsina goes to get the the binoculars, balaclava, and medkit supplies.
"Remember," she says to Ace as he heads for the small selection of hunting rifles, "we have the rifle back at the house. Not sure if there are any complications with using it, but it's there."
Katsina remembers Ace shooting down the Nissan Hound with one well-placed shot from the hunter's rifle. She barely knows a shotgun from a sniper rifle but she's reasonably confident that Ace could expertly use either.
She thinks about what Doc is saying while she does he shopping.
<<@Team [Katsina] I think Doc is right, but doesn't it seem strange that you had that much time available in the middle of a run? I would say "we" but I don't know when Red Team entered the picture. But Doc changing ownership - that takes hours, right? How often do you get hours where there's no backup to contend with and nobody contesting your position? Maybe it really was a milk run. You know, except for all those bullet holes in the van when we woke up and the HTR team following us in a half-mil helicopter.>>
-
Be wary of favors freely given. Doubly so for spirits. Ohanzee cursed himself. He'd been running on empty for so long that he hadn't even realized that any information acquired yesterday might be suspect.
"Cursed Raven" he said aloud. Celestial Raven was silent.
>>@Team [Ohanzee] I'm sorry, I must have been out of it more than I thought yesterday. I'm surprised we made it this far alive considering the trust you placed in me.
He tossed what he knew - or, thought he knew - around in his head, supplemented with the newly clarified information.
>>@Team [Ohanzee] Ok, based on the information I have available to me, here's how it appears to have gone down. Late last night something happened to make us suspect our Johnson - I'm talking about Red team here as I'm still not sure how Blue team fit in - and we, um, burned some bridges. I'd guess that the bomb might have been constructed after this point, but Katsina makes a good point - we seemed to have had a good amount of time between the actual run to acquire the artifact and the time we woke up. So our late night disagreement with the Johnson likely took place after we'd had the artifact in our possession for a while. Sometime after 10pm, but before midnight, we triggered the artifact and that led to the amnesia - most likely. It's still possible that the artifact isn't responsible, but I'd put that possibility as remote, especially considering what I have discovered.
>> In my attempt to communicate with the artifact, I was overwhelmed by countless "voices" - speaking in different languages, some quite possibly old. I don't now if the artifact itself is intelligent, but it certainly seems to contain a large number of, for lack of a better understanding, minds. I suspect that ours - the old us, of course - are among them. Destroying the artifact could free them, or ensure that they are lost forever.
>>In any case, it appears that destroying the artifact was NOT our original intent, but at some point after acquiring it we decided to do so. This may have been because of some knowledge our previous selves had about the artifact, or it may have been a simple negotiation tactic, or retribution, against the Johnson. In either case, if we decide to go ahead with the artifact's destruction, we'd best pick a remote area devoid of metahumans and be very far away before the bomb detonates because if it does destroy the artifact, the energy released will be titanic. I'm guessing anything within kilometers would be affected, though not necessarily lethally so. I can't exactly predict what the damage would be as I have no reference - destruction of vessels with this much stored power is nearly unheard of.
>>I wish I had more for us to use to base our decision off of, but I don't. If it helps, I strongly suspect that our infection is not related to the artifact, simply because the infection does not carry the artifact's aura. But, unless we can find any evidence from our old lives that indicates that the infection predates the acquisition of the artifact - medical records, anything - we can't know for sure. Perhaps if we can get to a properly equipped medical facility, Doc can give us better answers. But that is unlikely to happen before our vote tonight.
Ohanzee searched his memories, as suspect as they had proven to be, trying to remember if anyone had shared any info with him about where they might have lived before. Perhaps, if they had been infected, he could search their residence and neighbors for other infected in proximity. But, no, all of the identities that had been shared appeared to be fakes, so no one seemed to have a good candidate for a previous residence.
>>Listen, if we can find out where any of us had stayed prior to the "artifact job", maybe I can scout it from the astral and look for signs of the infection. If we had it for any amount of time, and it is communicable, our neighbors should also have it. Or maybe I'll get lucky and find medical equipment that might indicate that we were at least actively attempting to treat it. That would be a strong indicator that the artifact is not involved in the illness.
------------------------------------------------
At Katsina's announcement that enemies had been spotted, Ohanzee replied.
>>@Team [Ohanzee] Can you give us an approximate location? I might be able to take a discrete peek.
-
<<@Team [Katsina] I think Ohanzee has the basic outline of last night correct. As for the infection, we all saw that Team Blue was the most affected but Team Red hardly at all. This would suggest to me that the infection originated with you and is trying to spread to us, but has had less than a day to do so. I don't know what would explain the differing levels of infection in Team Blue though, unless it indicates how long you have been together.>>
She then responds to Ohanzee's question.
<<@Team [Katsina] When they were last in range they were in front of St. Mary's Catholic Church, right where Highway 82 passes through town. On the corner of Hunter Street, probably scanning traffic as it passes.>> She sends an ARO that points out the location on a map. <<I'm out of range now so I can't tell if they've moved. I'm not sure if I'd recommend taking a peek though. Might as well leave well-enough alone, and it seems Raven is in a prankish mood today. But I can't stop you, and I suppose it could tell us more about who is after us. Besides the Johnson, Knight Errant, the people we stole it from, and anyone else interested in a fat payday.>>
-
<<<@Team [Doc] I can also try and sneak a look over there and see what's going on Matrix. An anonymous icon walking by is probably less suspisious than and astral examination, especially if they are in a busy-ish location. I'll not go cowboy on you guys though and wait for team consensus.>>>
-
>>@Doc, Team [Ohanzee] Sounds like a good idea to me. See if you can get eyes on at least. I'd stay away from their devices shy of a casual looksie - nothing that risks their attention. Depending on what you see, we can decide if it's safe to attempt an Astral visit.
-
Ace talks shop with the rifle salesman on duty in Hamilton Sports. The salesman, an older gentleman with a distinguished silver mustache, grabs a futuristic-looking sporting rifle down off the wall.
"This here is the Ruger 101. Gas-operated, built-in imaging scope, rigid stock with a shock pad. Very popular with hobbyists and weekend warriors. But I can already tell that a life-long enthusiast such as yourself" (Ace can see the upsell from a kilometer away) "would be happier with the Remington 950. Bolt-action for a higher power and better accuracy. Classic wooden finishes. Been in style for decades, will be in style for decades. Appropriate for the discriminating marksman." He leans in with a conspiratorial nod to convey a fake sense of camaraderie. Ace doesn't miss the fact that the Remington 950 costs 50% more than the Ruger 101.
"Or, for the true collector, check out this lovely girl," the salesman continues, displaying the feminization common among firearm fetishists. He gestures toward a Springfield 2003 that he had been cleaning before Ace's arrival. "Beautiful, vintage, a true collector's piece." He sticks a long, thick, oily pipe-cleaner 14 inches up an Springfield's awaiting barrel. "Ain't she a beaut?" he says, inserting a pair of blank rounds snugly into the magazine before thrusting the gun's bolt smoothly into the action, cocking it firmly. "This gun will blow a man straight to heaven."
Katsina appears suddenly on Ace's shoulder, clingy and coquettish. "Did you find anything you like?" she asks, interrupting the firearm-to-phallus transference currently in progress. She leans in Ace mischievously, "I have a secret to show you back at home. I found it in my wardrobe." She gives a naughty smile to the older gentlemen, who keeps his eyes locked firmly on Ace.
-
Sam, Doc, Ohanzee, and Chino sit together at the kitchen table, throwing around ideas for a few minutes without really coming up with much. Chino's memory of preparing guns for shipment makes the three of them fairly certain that "flowers" are "guns", but none of the other code jumps out at them from just that. Eventually, Sam notices that the time of the last message from "Mom" is five minutes later than it should have been. Does this mean something? Is it part of the code? Doc brings up the point that all Sam's messages to "Mom" have been in the form of a question. They decide that to not do so today or to do so at the wrong time would signal something was wrong, but they can't decide whether it's a better idea to act like everything is ok, or to try and give the impression that something has gone wrong to whoever this "Mom" is. All four of them are starting to realize the limits of their information and Sam is starting to get quite frustrated, especially considering the torrrent of new information that keeps coming through the comm.
<<@Team [Katsina] We have people looking for us in town. Or, more precisely, people hostile to me in town. Picked them up with a spell but the details are hazy. I'm guessing there are at least eight. No indication that they know where we are or where we're going, but be on your game.>>
This new excites Sam a great deal. Someone who actually KNOWS one of us?" He sends a responds quickly.
<<@Team [Sam] These are people who know you personally? Can one of them be questioned?>>
>> In my attempt to communicate with the artifact, I was overwhelmed by countless "voices" - speaking in different languages, some quite possibly old. I don't now if the artifact itself is intelligent, but it certainly seems to contain a large number of, for lack of a better understanding, minds. I suspect that ours - the old us, of course - are among them. Destroying the artifact could free them, or ensure that they are lost forever.
This news chills Sam to the bone. He'd felt like something was missing this whole time and the dwarfs new info only confirmed it and made the feeling worse. I've got to blow that damn thing up and get my soul out.
>>If we decide to go ahead with the artifact's destruction, we'd best pick a remote area devoid of metahumans and be very far away before the bomb detonates because if it does destroy the artifact, the energy released will be titanic. I'm guessing anything within kilometers would be affected, though not necessarily lethally so. I can't exactly predict what the damage would be as I have no reference - destruction of vessels with this much stored power is nearly unheard of.
Oh. So, not as simple as just blowing it up, then. Hmmmmmm.... I wonder if I know how to fly a plane...
>>I wish I had more for us to use to base our decision off of, but I don't. If it helps, I strongly suspect that our infection is not related to the artifact, simply because the infection does not carry the artifact's aura. But, unless we can find any evidence from our old lives that indicates that the infection predates the acquisition of the artifact - medical records, anything - we can't know for sure. Perhaps if we can get to a properly equipped medical facility, Doc can give us better answers. But that is unlikely to happen before our vote tonight.
Sam can't tell if this information makes him feel better or worse. So, whatever horror is inside me is a completely separate story from the horrors being inflicted on my soul inside that magical obelisk. I hate this more and more every few minutes.
>>Listen, if we can find out where any of us had stayed prior to the "artifact job", maybe I can scout it from the astral and look for signs of the infection. If we had it for any amount of time, and it is communicable, our neighbors should also have it. Or maybe I'll get lucky and find medical equipment that might indicate that we were at least actively attempting to treat it. That would be a strong indicator that the artifact is not involved in the illness.
Responding to Ohanzee, Sam pipes up. "One of my SINs has a place in Boulder. I'll forward you the appropriate info.
<<@Ohanzee [Sam] ResidentDetails.file>>
<<@Team [Katsina] I think Ohanzee has the basic outline of last night correct. As for the infection, we all saw that Team Blue was the most affected but Team Red hardly at all. This would suggest to me that the infection originated with you and is trying to spread to us, but has had less than a day to do so. I don't know what would explain the differing levels of infection in Team Blue though, unless it indicates how long you have been together.>>
It's interesting information, but largely useless for now, at least until everyone knew a little bit more. Before long, 3:05 is only two minutes away and the group at the kitchen table still hasn't come up with anything useful. In a fit of frustration, Sam finally slams down his commlink flat on the table face down with a loud THWAK!
"Fuck this!" he announces loudly as he stands up from the table. "We don't have enough information. Any message we may send carries just as much risk of mis-step as sending no message at all does, but sending one risks exposing information to unknown parties and putting ourselves at potential disadvantage." He looks briefly around the room with his jaw set. "We do nothing."
-
This news excites Sam a great deal. Someone who actually KNOWS one of us?" He sends a responds quickly.
<<@Team [Sam] These are people who know you personally? Can one of them be questioned?>>
<<@Team [Katsina] The spell detects people who have hostile intent toward me personally. I would imagine it is our friends from last night, but it is possible that this is unconnected and is just a remarkable coincidence. I'm sure that we could question one of them although that wasn't terribly productive last night. The problem is that there are at least eight of them, possibly more if any of them beat my spell. If they are anything like yesterday's opposition then they are formidable and won't come quietly. We would have to be careful not to draw the wrath of SecForce.>>
-
Ace finds himself enjoying talking shop with Hamilton's resident gun expert. While thoroughly unimpressed with the Ruger 101, and only feeling a middling interest in the Remington 950, Ace recognizes the Springfield and nods in appreciation. He's about to ask whether it's ok to dry-fire the weapon when "Ivana" appears next to him.
"Did you find anything you like?" she asks, interrupting the firearm-to-phallus transference currently in progress. She leans in Ace mischievously, "I have a secret to show you back at home. I found it in my wardrobe." She gives a naughty smile to the older gentlemen, who keeps his eyes locked firmly on Ace.
Ace reluctantly hands the rifle back to the clerk and says, "Well, you heard the lady. I'll tell you what, chummer, slot me your card in case we come back. We'll be here through the week, and I want you to have the commission if I do. Before I go, I'll take 3 boxes of 12 gauge slugs." Ace thanks the man, and he and Katsina make their way out of the shop. Ace stops to snap a couple pics of Doc's clothes, which he sends along with a message.
<<@Team [Ace] Doc, if you can get a look in the trix, I say go for it. Ohanzee, Katsina said there was 8 of them. Given what we've been up against, I'd guess that at least 1 is magically active and looking for our souls, or whatever you mojo types call it. We may want to hold off there until we have a better idea.>>
-
"One of my SINs has a place in Boulder. I'll forward you the appropriate info.
<<@Ohanzee [Sam] ResidentDetails.file>>
Ohanzee reviews the address and with a thought brings up a map of the location. He shouldn't have any trouble finding Boulder from here, but the world looks different in the Astral, so he makes note of landmarks in Boulder that should be identifiable in the Astral to help him home in on the location marked on his map. While Sam and Chino continue to pore over the messages looking for more clues, he props himself up so he won't fall over and projects himself to Sam's potential flat. Once near, he surveys the location for potential surveillance, and once satisfied, looks around. A few moments later he returns to his body with a status report.
"Fuck this!" he announces loudly as he stands up from the table. "We don't have enough information. Any message we may send carries just as much risk of mis-step as sending no message at all does, but sending one risks exposing information to unknown parties and putting ourselves at potential disadvantage." He looks briefly around the room with his jaw set. "We do nothing."
"That seems prudent. I'm also wondering if the five minute delay on the last communication might have been the result of a compromise of Mom. We're so worried about breaking the pattern that we haven't really considered that it's already broken and it might mean the communication channel is already blown."
-
@Poindexter
Sam lets 3:05 slip by without sending a note. A minute later, his comm pings with an incoming message.
<Start Russian>
>> FROM: Mom
>> TO: Frank
>> SENT: February 1st, 3:06PM
>> I made you borscht.
<End Russian>
@rednblack
The man behind the counter gives a disappointed look at the lost customer but maintains his professional composure. He sells Ace the three boxes of slugs for ¥60. He bids Ace farewell with a distinguished nod and an request to visit again soon.
Ace and Ivana return to the waiting car. Calvin opens the rear door. Ivana accepts Ace's help as she steps in. "Let's go home?" She directs Calvin to drive them back to the cabin. They return at 15:30, right at the two-hour mark for their car service. Calvin helps unload the trunk, hauling coolers and duffel bags up the icy steps. Ivana wires the ¥120 for the use of the car, plus ¥25 for gratuity.
@Malevolence
Ohanzee drifts off into the astral. Rising out of the house, all seems quiet. He doesn't notice any significant changes from when he last checked. Getting his bearings against the astral landscape, he rockets off toward Boulder.
To his credit, he absolutely nails his destination on the first try. Unfortunately, by not coming out of hyperspace early he loses his opportunity to scout the place covertly in advance. He looks around. Astrally, the place is lit up like a Christmas tree. There are two spirits on patrol - F6 spirits of air from the looks of things - along with two watchers. One spirit circles over the house as an eagle, the other is perched in a tree as an owl. If there were a term for "astral stakeout", it would be applicable here.
Celestrial Raven's concealment utterly baffles the watchers but the spirits are so not easily fooled. They spy Ohanzee and screech at his presence.
-
Doc had gone back to digging up information about the good doctor. As he's reclining in a virtual seat with countless AR windows surrounding him, he sees the messages from Ace and Ohanzee he takes a mental stretch and minimizes all of the searches. Running silently to arouse less suspicion, he heads towards the location Katsina marked stopping about 125m away to get a lay of the digital landscape before progressing.
-
As the Astral birds screech in alarm, Raven's concealment fades, leaving Ohanzee exposed to the watchers. Drek!
Almost involuntarily, Ohanzee's consciousness returns to his body. As his mind readjusts to the weight and comparative awkwardness of having a corporeal form, he reports the change of situation to the team.
>>@Team [Ohanzee] Contact! Our location is compromised. We'll have visitors in about an hour, two tops. We gotta get our hoops outta here. Sam, there were two spirits and two watchers on your old residence. Astrally, it's locked up tight. Maybe a Matrix peep will be more fruitful, but that's gonna have to wait until we're moving.
The brief disorientation gone, Ohanzee stood up and began to start gathering items they would be taking to the kitchen. He curtly dismissed Celestial Raven without so much as a word. There was no reply from the spirit - no parting words nor disconcerting laugh, but through the disintegrating link Ohanzee could feel satisfied mirth. He couldn't escape the realization that Raven may have been right about one thing - the time for running was nearing an end. It was time to prepare for a fight.
Through the Astral ether the shaman's call reached. Faithful Wolf, I have need of you now. The eerie braying of wolfs on the hunt answered his call. With steamy breath and fangs dripping blood from a fresh kill, a massive grey Wolf spirit sauntered in to view, circling the tiny dwarf and sniffing at the air. Seeing no enemies nearby, the wolf at last sat on its haunches, licked its lips, and stared at Ohanzee, tongue lolling from its mouth. Why do you call me to the world of the flesh today? The wolf licked its lips again as it mentioned "flesh".
My pack needs your strength, mighty Wolf. The time to fight nears, but we must prepare, choose our time and place. I will have need of your ferocity, but for now I need your keen senses to guard us as we prepare.
The spirit twitched its ear and emitted a low growl in frustration, but nodded its head in assent. Very well. For now, the promise of meat to rend and bone to crunch will sustain me. Be quick about your preparations, fleshed one, for I hunger for the kill. The Wolf stood and moved to a better vantage point before turning three times, then lying down, ears alert but only one eye open in feigned disinterest.
The summoning had taken a toll on Ohanzee. For a moment the world was dim as he struggled through the wooziness. But an effort of will forced the clouding away, and the dwarf busied himself with preparations for their departure, not the least of which was the crate containing the strange item that seems to be the reason they are in this mess to begin with.
-
"Ivana" walks in the front door with Ace - making Ace carry all of the bags - just in time for Ohanzee to turn everything upside down. All of a sudden there's a new emergency, plus a giant spirit of Wolf sitting in the kitchen. She immediately drops her Physical Mask spell, instantly reverting to her black mask plus black lined coat.
<<@Team [Katsina] We need to move but there is risk in that too. Those spirits are going to alert their summoner(s), and if those summoners are connected to the team in town looking for me then they are going to be expecting us on the road soon. Going south on 82 locks us into a route with no turn-offs for hours. Going north it's 40 minutes until we can turn off at Carbondale. If they bottle up town then they'll be waiting for us. There might be some rural roads leading out of town to the north if we need a quieter place for a scrap. Or we could move to a new spot in town, but if they've seen Ohanzee it's only a matter of time until a spirit with the Search power locates him.>>
She drags the cooler into the kitchen, sidestepping Wolf, then starts pulling things out of the fridge and cupboards until the cooler itself is full.
<<@Team [Katsina] What about the house? What about Sam's traps? We've almost certainly left something behind that could be used as a material link for ritual spellcasting.>>
-
Doc goes to check on the group that Katsina mentioned. It doesn't take him long to find the likely suspects. He merges into the steam of traffic going through the area and blends into the general chaos of the area. Looking around more closely he notices a device running silently. Narrowing his inspection to this actor he sees that it's a decker running a comparitively cheap deck configured for speed and protection rather than stealth or brute force. Also running Lockdown and Track to snatch and grab any offending deckers in the area. Doc snickers to himself as he just blends into the background and continues his inpsection. The silent decker seems to be checking on most of the traffic coming by, so he'll only have a few more seconds. He sees that there are 9 other PANs attached to the deck along with his own gear which isn't too shabby. A couple of guns, a skilljack, cybereys and of course the pre-requisit datajack for any decker. The team seems to be communicating fairly frequently in just the 10 seconds he's poking his nose around. And the decker seems to be passing some data onto a remote location.
Deciding he's better off quietly walking away then risking stiring up a shitstorm he heads back to the cabin to keep searching for more data about the artifact.
<<<@Team [Doc] Those folks are definitely looking for something, and wouldn't be surprised if its us. There's actually 10 of them, and they aren't SecForce as their Decker is decently geared, but not how I'd expect a PCC cop looking for us. They didn't have anything obvious laying around in the matrix specifically related to us, but given they hit on Katsina I'm guessing I could find something if I actually went digging. But this was just a little lookey-loo and I didn't want to set of any alarms. If we need to, I'm pretty confident I can snoop these guys pretty well, but want to not spread myself too thin.
I'm going back to work on the artifact, holler if you guys need anything.
Oh, and Ace's friend's Gopher is about 5 minutes down the road now.>>>
-
As soon as the goodies are unloaded from the trip into town Ace does a quick walk-through in the cabin. As he does so, he turns around Ohanzee's new information. He has an initial impression, but he forces himself to think a bit before responding. When nothing additional comes to him, Ace decides his first impression might be the way to go.
<<@Team [Ace] If the cabin's compromised, we probably need to reduce it to cinders. The risk of us leaving DNA is too great. Sam, any chance you can rig the place to blow for when the team on our tail shows up? If so, we might be able to avoid the troubles on the road. If not, we should probably just start a fire on our way out, and take our chances on the rural routes. Regardless, we need the RV and some way to keep its rightful owners quiet. I know how I'd handle this back in my Ares days, but it might be best to leave that in the past.>>
Before packing up, Ace snaps a couple pics of the cabin's owner from the mantle and pulls the rifle downstairs. He regards Sam. "You planning on taking this thing with you?"
-
>> FROM: Mom
>> TO: Frank
>> SENT: February 1st, 3:06PM
>> I made you borscht.
<<@Mom [Frank] I'm too sick to eat. Need medicine.>>
>>@Team [Ohanzee] Contact! Our location is compromised. We'll have visitors in about an hour, two tops. We gotta get our hoops outta here. Sam, there were two spirits and two watchers on your old residence. Astrally, it's locked up tight. Maybe a Matrix peep will be more fruitful, but that's gonna have to wait until we're moving.
And just like that, we're moving again. The next 15 minutes are a blur of activity, with everyone running around the house, gathering things up and planning on the fly. Before things can get too hectic, Sam sends a message to the team.
<<@Team [Sam] So, do we try to clean this place or do we burn it?>>
<<@Team [Ace] If the cabin's compromised, we probably need to reduce it to cinders. The risk of us leaving DNA is too great. Sam, any chance you can rig the place to blow for when the team on our tail shows up? If so, we might be able to avoid the troubles on the road. If not, we should probably just start a fire on our way out, and take our chances on the rural routes. Regardless, we need the RV and some way to keep its rightful owners quiet. I know how I'd handle this back in my Ares days, but it might be best to leave that in the past.>>
<<@Team [Sam] Oh, i certainly can rig the place to blow. How big do you want it is the question? And if you're taking the RV, we should bring the snowmobile if there's room.>>
A moment later, the physical Ace taps Sam on the shoulder, motions with a hunting rifle and asks,
"You planning on taking this thing with you?"
"Yes. Thank you." He responds as he takes it from the man and slings it over his shoulder.
-
On hearing from Ohanzee that the gig is up, Doc starts thinking of exit strategies.
"First we're gonna need a big ride, that RV next door will work great. I wonder if the snowmobile will fit? Hrm... Secondly, we'll need a distraction and something to cover our tails. If Sam can blow this place up we can blame that on the team that comes a knocking."
There are obviously other concerns as well, he relays his thoughts to the team:
<<<@Team [Doc] Ace, Chino, can you guys boost that RV? Drive it with a DC so we can run wirelessly until we are out of range. Sam, can we set the traps to take out the whole house and detonate remotely? Watch for the team Ohanzee found to arrive and give them a nice surprise? We could also call the cops to see them "breaking" into the place. HaHa, that'd be a trip! I'll have to see if I can steal some surveillance footage of that scene! First thoughts of course, this needs more planning. What do the rest of you think?>>>
-
Chino grumbles in disappointment when nobody can figure out the code. Too bad, I thought we were on to something.
Sam announces that they are going to be silent and see what happens. They don't have to wait long before something happens. What it means, Chino can only guess, but Sam seems to know how to reply. It isn't long before Ohanzee returns to his body and alerts that the have been compromised. Could have been worse, I guess. At least we got a night's sleep.
Chino swiftly gathers his measly belongings as the flurry of commlink activity goes on.
<<<@Team [Doc] Ace, Chino, can you guys boost that RV? Drive it with a DC so we can run wirelessly until we are out of range. Sam, can we set the traps to take out the whole house and detonate remotely? Watch for the team Ohanzee found to arrive and give them a nice surprise? We could also call the cops to see them "breaking" into the place. HaHa, that'd be a trip! I'll have to see if I can steal some surveillance footage of that scene! First thoughts of course, this needs more planning. What do the rest of you think?>>>
<<@Team [Chino] Shouldn't be a problem getting the vehicle, but what are we going to do about the people who live there? Are we knocking them out, killing them, what? Also, what about the obelisk? I assume we are still taking it with us, we need Ohanzee to levitate it into the vehicle.>>
Chino remembers the mention of spirits and feels his tattoos start to tingle, as if begging to be activated. He sends out.
<<@Team [Chino] Also, I could seriously frag up those spirits if they show here, and it would probably be best to disrupt them before they can follow us in our escape vehicle. Of course, I can't drive and fight the spirits at the same time. And we would have to wait for them to come to us. I can work either way, but having the spirits track us while we are trying to escape seems like a bad idea.>>
Chino turns to Ace. "You still got that taser of yours? Might be useful when we go to get our lift."
-
Katsina finishes emptying out the fridge. A pity. This was a comfortable place, even if it was squatting. Oh well.
<<@Team [Katsina] Let's burn the place. Nothing dramatic. We can salvage the explosives for another day. Given our current rate of making friends, we'll need them. Maybe a malfunctioning appliance can do the honors.>>
She looks around. Most of her stuff is already packed, in bags waiting by the front door. She checks to see who else might need help. Ohanzee will have to get the crate; Sam will have to take care of the explosives, unless her approach gets downvoted. Doc, Ace, and Chino will presumably acquire transportation.
<<@Team [Katsina] I'd rather leave them be, but if it comes to it I can neutralize the neighbors. I can do it humanely, as I did for the poachers. But all things being equal, better to not leave an unnecessary trail of bodies in our wake. If we hit SecForce's radar we'll have to make a run for the border.>>
She's a bit stuck until the others need her help. She sits on the cooler in the entryway and begins inscribing preparations. They might be needed soon.
-
There are obviously other concerns as well, he relays his thoughts to the team:
<<<@Team [Doc] Ace, Chino, can you guys boost that RV? Drive it with a DC so we can run wirelessly until we are out of range. Sam, can we set the traps to take out the whole house and detonate remotely? Watch for the team Ohanzee found to arrive and give them a nice surprise? We could also call the cops to see them "breaking" into the place. HaHa, that'd be a trip! I'll have to see if I can steal some surveillance footage of that scene! First thoughts of course, this needs more planning. What do the rest of you think?>>>
<<@Team [Ace] If we're disposing of the neighbors, I'd rather bring them here first, and let the fire destroy some of the evidence. Who knows, maybe whoever's after us could think we had a falling out, which could be to our advantage. Regardless, I don't want to leave the bodies in a place where they'll be seen, which will only get SecForce and others a step closer to us and our new vehicle. If we're not disposing of the neighbors, I can make them unconscious. Keeping them that way will be another thing entirely. We need to decide quickly. Doc, could you keep them out for the foreseeable future? Ohanzee, what do you think?>>
Ace checks his duffle bag one last time before zipping it and adding it to the pile of gear. He catches himself in a mirror in the hall and practices his best, winning corper smile, before thinking back to his teammate's messages.
<<@Team [Ace] the snow mobile will be great to have on board, and I would imagine it would fit. We'll need to clean it before packing up, though. Any rogue RFIDs will not serve us well.>>
-
Katsina looks up from her preparation and considers the cabin. While the electronics been updated, the building itself and much of the furnishings look old, probably pre-Awakening. Given the generations of family members pictured, it's probably a family retreat that's been passed down. Much of the furniture looks like family heirlooms too. That means that the fabrics and materials are organic instead of synthetic. Good fuel for a fire. Sorry about all the memories, but a fat cat banker from Denver can probably afford new ones. Frag him.
She looks up at Ace checking himself in the mirror. He looks good with his tailored clothes and his winning corper smile.
<<@Team [Katsina] Ace looks respectable. I think the neighbors would open the door for a nicely dressed young man with a clean look. I would.>>
She sees Ohanzee moving around quickly.
<<@Team [Katsina] Or Ohanzee. He's got a way with words too. He's native, so he looks like a local, maybe even an authority. His clothes are armored but not conspicuously so. I bet they could talk their way in.>>
She stands up, pacing around while continuing to inscribe a throwing knife with a strong Heal spell. It requires most of her attention but she can still formulate a separate thought every now and then. She glances out the front window at the neighbor's house. Transmitting her thoughts via DNI leaves her hands free to work their magic.
<<@Team [Katsina] Where are we going to put the snowmobile? It's an RV, not a garage. I doubt it has a door big enough to get the snowmobile or the ATV inside.>>
-
Ace finds Ohanzee and says, "Whaddya say? Should we go make some friends? If you can get us in the door, and I can bring them down. Should be fairly easy lifting to get them in the RV after that."
Ace adjusts the lapels on his jacket, and prepares himself again for the cold.
-
As the crew makes preparations, Ohanzee listens to the conversation as the team discusses their next steps.
>>@Team [Ohanzee] - In broad strokes, the plan seems as sound as it can be on such short notice. Burn the house, but spare the explosives - which means no nasty surprises for our followers, but them's the breaks. If we can make it look like an accident, or somehow implicate our pursuers so that we don't have to concern ourselves with the local authorities, all the better.
>> The RV seems a unanimous choice. We can't leave the owners behind - as stiffs or otherwise - as it tips our hand. So, we have to take them with us. I say we try the non-lethal route first - but we have to keep them from contacting anyone, so Doc's plan to keep them unconscious gets my vote. As to how to get them unconscious to begin with, I can't think of how we can do it without Doc having to face the house's WAN. We can't sneak in without dealing with it, I can't whammy them simultaneously, and so on. So, if they have biomonitors with med dispensers, I say go that route - less likely to set off their DocWagon or whatever corp equivalent they might have.
>> Once on the road, we can try to take ownership of it without the messy paper trails. And taking the snowmobile is also a strong idea. Having an outrider can be a great boon.
>> I'll offer any support I can - invisibility or a distraction or whatever.
Amid the hustle, Ohanzee notices that Wolf has de-manifested, and is resting near the roof of the house, poking is head through and looking around at the outside. He looks notably less disinterested now, and the agitation of the team is noticeable in the Astral, which might explain his desire to keep some distance. He sniffs at the air and casts a glance at the cooler that Katsina has been loading, licking his chops. He repeats this process a number of times between scans of the horizon. Ohanzee finds it curious, but just chalks it up to the steaks that were moved there from the freezer.
Ohanzee finished securing the crate - he's not sure how much longer the nails will hold, the opening and closing loosening them to the point that they wiggle noticeably as the crate shifts. He sits down next to the crate and slips focuses on clearing any astral evidence of their time here - signatures, etc. Now that he has heard them, the voices from the artifact are unmistakeable, and it takes an extra effort to block them out. He keeps finding himself trying to listen in, filter out just a single voice, then catches himself and renews his focus to block out the cacophony. Maybe sitting right next to it wasn't such a great idea.
He gets up and moves to the kitchen, grabs himself a drink of water, then stops for a second. He recalls how the team members that partook in the alcoholic beverages reported additional euphoria, seemingly proportional to their level of infection. He wondered if that was because the infection was reinforcing the behavior, or if the infection was impeded and the body felt better for it. He set the water down and grabbed a beer. Watching his aura, he drank the beer quickly. Then he grabbed the water, sat down at the breakfast table, and waited for the infection to react.
-
Ace finds Ohanzee and says, "Whaddya say? Should we go make some friends? If you can get us in the door, and I can bring them down. Should be fairly easy lifting to get them in the RV after that."
Snapping his attention back to the world, Ohanzee stares up at Ace. He was still processing what he saw. But old habits seem to stay, even with the amnesia hiding the memory of them. A friendly face snaps into place and Ohanzee gives Ace a firm nod and a warm confirmation "Sounds good, omae."
He stands up slowly, finishes his water - when had he drank most of it? - and follows Ace out into the cold.
-
Outside, the 2 make quick progress to the house to the north. Ace scans the treeline for any movement, but tries to keep his head rather stationary and walks with purpose toward their destination. "Ok, so what's the play here? Food dispenser on the fritz? Cup of sugar? We just bought the cabin and want to make nice with our new neighbors? No, scratch that, they might know the guy. How about asking if they've heard from him? He was supposed to show up yesterday, and the gangs all here, etc?"
-
"Flattery. We'll tell them we're here in advance of our host and that he said they were like the unofficial Neighborhood Watch, so he suggested we introduce ourselves before their sharp eyes noticed anything out of place. Maybe suggest that he thought they were a good source of recommendations for stuff to do while in Aspen. That should give us an in."
>> Doc [Ohanzee] Can you get a name for the couple here? Should be on the title of the property at least.
-
Ace nods to Ohanzee as they approach the house. "Sounds good, 'Brian.' Ace hits the doorbell with the knuckle of his index finger -- some old, forgotten habit -- and puts on his smile.
-
Ace and Ohanzee hear a genial shout of "Coming!" then a series approaching footsteps. There is a pause before the door opens, perhaps as the other party spies through the peep-hole.
The door opens. There's an older gentleman on the other side, a Caucasian human. He's dressed in corporate casual: khakis and a nice sweater over a collared shirt. He has a distinguished head of crisply-combed silver hair. He looks startled when he sees Ohanzee. The dwarf may have been too short to see through the peep-hole, or perhaps this gentleman is a virulent racist.
"Who is it?" the lady of the house calls out. She's further back in the inside, maybe in the kitchen. Ace and Ohanzee notice her leaning around the corner to see for herself. She's about a dozen meters down the entryway.
-
Ace introduces them to the couple as Stewart Peters and Brian Griffin. Ohanzee smiles politely while Ace explains that they are staying next door for a few days until "Joe" shows up. While the couple focuses on Ace, Ohanzee takes a look around in the astral, noting the couple's auras and making sure there would be no nasty surprises when things went down.
-
As the door opens, Ace grasps the lapels of his jacket with his left hand in a bid to insulate himself from the cold. Similarly, he bows each of his knees out slightly, as if he's very uncomfortable with the snow on the bottom of his shoes. When the man who opens the door seems a bit startled by Ohanzee's presence Ace jumps in, "you'll have to excuse my associate here," he says in a slightly affected CAS drawl. "He can be a bit easy to miss sometimes. Anyway, I'm Steward Peters, pleased to meet you, sir. And this is Brian Griffin. Mr. Moran, excuse me, you probably know him by Joseph, he said that if we saw your RV in the driveway that we should come down and introduce ourselves. This is our first time up to Aspen," Ace swells with pride a little, to show that he knows he's finally making his way up the corporate ladder. "and Mr. Mo-er Joseph said that you might be able to give us a bit of the lay of the land, maybe recommend some good spots in town and such."
Ace lets out a little shiver, as they stand in the doorway, but stops short of making his teeth chatter. No need to oversell it quite yet.
-
He recalls how the team members that partook in the alcoholic beverages reported additional euphoria, seemingly proportional to their level of infection. He wondered if that was because the infection was reinforcing the behavior, or if the infection was impeded and the body felt better for it. He set the water down and grabbed a beer. Watching his aura, he drank the beer quickly. Then he grabbed the water, sat down at the breakfast table, and waited for the infection to react.
Ohanzee pounds a beer, wondering if he really wanted to or if some mysterious force in his head compelled him too. He considers the bottle. It's a craft beer, one of those fancy microbrews that are popular with people who have more money than they need. The bottle describes its contents as a "white ale", 6% ABV. A true corper's beer.
Ohanzee assenses himself. If he hadn't seen the nanites before then he certainly wouldn't be able to track them now; only his familiarity allows him to follow their movements throughout his system. At first, there is no response, but as soon as the alcohol enters his bloodstream the nanites spring into action. They swarm the ethanol and break it down rapidly. None of it makes it to his liver, nor his kidneys or lungs. With his dwarven constitution, Ohanzee is used to not feeling much of an effect from alcohol - especially beer - but this is indistinguishable from his water. There's no buzz - none - but yet there's a vague feeling of reward, as if he had done something healthy. His body seems pleased.
Doc hits the Matrix, rapidly pulling up public records files while Ace and Ohanzee walk next door. Luckily the Pueblo Matrix is so bleeding-edge that the information practically falls out of it. He finds the answer in a blink: NATELY EXPEDITIONS.
That sounds like a corporation, so Doc quickly cross-references it. Indeed, it is A-rated corporation, a small multinational with offices in several North American countries. A list of officers brings up one MR. EDWARD J. NATELY II as the Chairman of the Board. A quick glance through the corporate history suggests that he was once the CEO but stepped down in 2064 to spend more time with his possessions. The nature of their business is opaque but the company seems to be very old, dating to the 18th century.
Granted that he's been retired for a while, but it seems curious to Doc that someone with (presumably) such a high net worth would be living outside of a corporate compound, or lacking in better physical security. Or is SecForce really that good that you don't need those extra steps in Aspen?
Stewart and Brian quickly evaluate the couple while Stewart starts the conversation. The woman is mostly obscured, given that she's only glancing from around a corner. What Ohanzee can see (her head) doesn't look augmented at all. Her aura looks healthy. She's curious about who is at the door, and maybe a bit annoyed by the draft. The man looks trim and fit. His stance is confident; maybe he does judo, or tai chi. Ohanzee sees cyberware in his head, which is common for corpers. It looks like older product, probably from 10+ years ago. Neither of them are Awakened, nor is there any obvious magical security. The old man is definitely suspicious but seems to be erring on the side of courtesy for now.
"Joe sent you over, did he?" the man asks. Ace and Ohanzee immediately pick up that he didn't say "Joseph". Strike one, but not a fatal error; maybe Joe's employees (?) use his full name.
"Not to be offensive, Mr. Griffin," he continues, looking down at Ohanzee, "but you don't seem like Joe's kind of people. He and I don't see eye-to-eye on the matter, but he's been very clear on his views in the past." He arches an eyebrow. Strike two. He definitely does not seem to be on the verge of inviting you in.
-
<<<@Team [Doc] Old man is Edward Nately the Second. Retired CEO of Nately Expeditions. Honestly seems a bit rich to be this far out. Been retired for 10 years now, but that's aN A-Rated corp he ran. Careful out there you two. This guy isn't going to be a sucker by any means.
Attachment: Nately_Corp.info Mr_and_Mrs_Nately_II.info>>>
Doc ties into the house video feed and tries to keep an eye on the neighbors.
-
Ohanzee pretends to ignore the comment about how Joe's racism, and instead apologizes about his clothing.
"Sorry if I seem under-dressed. I'm mostly here because I'm fun at parties." He pulls a bouquet of flowers from mid-air and after a second they explode into a brilliant, but harmless, display of fireworks. "Mostly children's parties" he adds. "I've attended Mr. Peters daughter's birthdays since she was 4. But I've never met Mr. Moran before. I won't have the opportunity to meet him, sadly, as I'm only here until tomorrow. Like I said, fun at parties." Ohanzee flashes an impish smile.
"The festivities might get a little rambunctious and " he flicks some confetti into the air, accompanied by the sounds of party favors "maybe a little strange, but we'll take care not to be too disruptive. Of course, if the daytime entertainment is half as much fun as I've heard, this group might not have the energy for much partying. So, if you have any suggestions for tuckering out a bunch of yahoo's, I'd start with those." He smiles again, then glances darkly at the snow covered landscape all around. "Though the weather might do us in before the town's charms do. I suspect that the slopes might be more of a shock than they were prepared for. It's not my place to impose, but would you mind? " Ohanzee asks as he indicates the sumptuous, and warm, space inside the cabin.
-
Doc flies through the Matrix, running queries left and right about Nately Expeditions. The results are vague and not particularly informative. Some of the results suggest that they an investment firm of sorts, or maybe venture capitalists. Whatever they do, the company isn't very forthcoming about it. Either they don't need to advertise or they feel that it's below them. There are schoolchildren in their first icon-sculpting classes who have a more extensive Matrix presence than this company.
Ohanzee is a smooth-talking motherfragger. His line that he's never met Mr. Moran seems to set the old man at ease, and Ace certainly looks the part to be a coworker or other bright young corporate star. There's something about Ohanzee's force of personality that wins the man over, despite his suspicions. He steps back and opens the door wider for the pair to enter. He turns and looks back at his wife. "A friend of Joe's, Martha," he says by way of introduction. The use of the singular is not lost on anyone.
-
While Ohanzee makes his display, Ace briefly checks the records Doc sent over. Interesting. North American presence, dating back to the 18th century, and then there was the flag in Moran's safe. When Mr. Nately invites the two inside, Ace knocks the snow from his footwear thoroughly and enters first, softly whistling a few bars of "America the Beautiful," surreptitiously trying to gauge Mr. Nately's reaction.
"Thank you for your hospitality, sir." Ace says as he relinquishes his hold on the lapels of his jacket. He takes in the foyer and living room appreciatively, and nods in respect. "Beautiful place you've got here. This is my first time to Aspen, but I've got to say I've been won over. Beautiful country here. And good people from what I can tell so far. My daughter, Meg, who Brian here was just mentioning is absolutely loving the place. Do you ski, sir?" There's no irony in Ace's question. Stewart Peters doesn't think Mr. Nately is too long in the tooth whatsoever.
-
Stewart and Brian step inside. Mr. Nately pauses by the front door, the direction of his gaze indicating that it would be polite for his visitors to remove their footwear before proceeding. Indeed, the living area adjacent to the entryway is plushly carpeted. The living room is reminiscent of an New England reading room: there are antique leather-bound books sitting on bookshelves of rich mahogany. Mr. Nately leads the way into the living room and sits in a wingback chair that may or may not be made out of real leather. The layout of the room suggests that Stewart and Brian should sit on a couch. The fabric is soft and has a certain sheen to it. They didn't know synthetic fibers could be this nice, unless it's not synthetic...
Mr. Nately arches an eyebrow at Stewart's whistling but does not comment on it. Strange thing to do, entering another man's home and begin whistling. But he doesn't seem to object either.
He answers Stewart's question dryly. "There are two types of people in Aspen: those who ski, and those who are here to be near the skiers. We are the former." He crosses his legs, getting comfortable.
-
Ace takes in the living room in admiration. He puts on the airs of someone not used to seeing real books, but trying desperately to not come across as someone who's never seen real books. In fact, that may not be far from the truth. As Mr. Nately takes his seat, Ace stays standing for a brief moment, regarding the bookcases.
He answers Stewart's question dryly. "There are two types of people in Aspen: those who ski, and those who are here to be near the skiers. We are the former." He crosses his legs, getting comfortable.
Ace sees Mr. Nately cross his legs out of the corner of his eye, and nods to the man's response. Mentally, he switches on his shock-hand and the synthetic jacks in his legs. "Glad to hear it, sir, he says. "I hope to get on the slopes myself." Ace starts back toward the couch, but wheels on the balls of his feet and crosses the room in a flash, as he attempts to land an open-palmed strike into Mr. Nately's chest.
-
Mr. Nately may be trim and fit but he's in no position to defend himself from a highly-trained cybernetically-enhanced corporate super-solider. Ace plants his feet and uses the hydraulic jacks in his Ares Instigator™ βSynthetic legs to leap across the room in an instant. Before Mr. Nately can even widen his eyes to register surprise, Ace is pumping him full of 1,200 volts at about 19 pulses per second. The old man's muscles lock up, his eyes roll back in his head, and he slumps unconscious as his limbs jiggle. Ace takes care to keep him from falling out of the chair and crashing to the ground, but the old man's arm does knock a book off the chair-side table.
Ace checks his pulse. Luckily the man is in good shape for his age. The electricity does not seem to have triggered a heart attack or anything more serious than the sudden fit of unconsciousness.
-
After entering the house, Ohanzee had taken in the ambiance. The natural materials were well worn, but well cared for. Mana flowed freely here, unimpeded by the synthetic materials that covered every surface of every building he had ever remembered entering, and likely every one he couldn't remember entering. Only with an effort of will had he managed to pull away from his amazement to review the highlights of the file Doc had sent. Things hadn't added up, and Ohanzee was halfway through composing a caution to Ace to hold off until they had some more pieces to the puzzle when he realized Ace was acting. Already the old man was unconscious on the chair and Ace was halfway to the kitchen.
>> @Ace [Ohanzee] Maybe a little heads up first next time?
But there was nothing else to do but support the inhumanly fast human speeding towards the last known location of the woman. It hadn't really registered with Ohanzee that Ace was almost all machine - he'd assensed him before and had noticed that he had a LOT of metal and plastic bits, but he'd always been intent on something else and hadn't just let that fact sink in. But watching him move - very nearly a blur - it was finally hitting home. Along with that realization came the realization that Ohanzee was mostly here for the ride - this was all Ace's show.
So he hunkered down - he found a nice defensible position and situated himself so that he could cover as many avenues of attack as possible. But this was almost second nature, and as he positioned himself, he opened up his third eye and scanned the area for the woman, then kept it open - just in case. After what Doc had sent, he was expecting more trouble and while it would most likely appear in the form of mundane - or even technological - security, he felt Ace had that in hand, so he took up astral overwatch.
He never saw the woman - she was apparently still in the kitchen hidden behind a wooden wall, but he could hear Ace engage her. Again, he seemed to have things well in hand against the aged couple, so Ohanzee decided that perhaps his best course of action might be to make sure the rest of the house was clear.
-
Ace eases Mr. Nately to the ground so that he doesn't knock over any more books. Wondering if Mrs. Nately heard the book fall, Ace takes off at a sprint. Two long strides have him to the entryway, then another two sprinting steps to the corner where he saw her, then an impossible nimble pivot to the right with almost no momentum lost. He sees her directly ahead in the kitchen. Her back is turned to him and she appears to be on a call with a relative.
"Always remember that you are a Nately. You are not a Knight, whose fortunes are based on selling armaments, or a Yakamura, whose family is in league with unscrupulous foreigners, or a Dankwalther, whose fortune rests on a bequest from a sentient lizard; and you are certainly not a Cline, whose family, I believe, still appears in moving pictures. You are a Nately, and the Natelys have never done anything for their money."
Ace slaps his left hand over her mouth to muffle her cries while his right hand discharges against her stomach. Her back arches violently as she spasms. The charge relents and she slumps forward in Ace's arms. He sets her down on the floor gently, knowing that the abrupt end to the conversation may cause alarm on the other end of the line.
He looks around the kitchen. A Renraku Manservant is busy dusting immaculately clean counter tops. The droid pays Ace no mind. Ace does, however, hear something large approaching from a nearby room. It speaks aloud in a robotoic monotone:
"Ma'am, you have suffered a seizure. You are unconscious. Please remain stationary."
A Shiawase Caduceus "CAD" 7 drone enters the kitchen. It's a medium-sized anthroform equipped with a full range of autodoc capabilities.
"Initial diagnosis -"
-
As Ace eases Mrs. Nately to the floor, a text message appears in the lower right-hand corner of his vision.
>> @Ace [Ohanzee] Maybe a little heads up first next time?
Ace can't help but feel guilty: the corp years entrenched firmly in his neural pathways. You have displeased your direct supervisor. Do you think this is how you're going to move up in the world, soldier? The mix of corp and military verbiage gives him pause for a brief moment, but then a drone rolls its way into the kitchen.
"Ma'am, you have suffered a seizure. You are unconscious. Please remain stationary."
Fraggin' hell. Ace steps gingerly over the fallen body of Mrs. Nately and approaches the drone. A diagnostic arm extends, which Ace knocks away with his left hand and firmly plants his right under where he believes the battery housing is.
"Initial diagnosis -"
The machine powers down with a few light jolts. Ace goes back to Mrs. Nately and picks her up in a fireman's carry. Heading back to the living room, he messages Ohanzee.
<<@Ohanzee [Ace] I thought this was the plan? In other news, there was a robo-doc in the kitchen, and Mrs. Nately was on the phone. I took out the drone, but we may be on a tight timetable on 2 fronts now.>>
Ace sets down his quarry on the long couch in the living room, and grabs the comms from Mr. and Mrs. Nately. "Shall we see if this'll get us in the RV before we try the old fashioned way?" he asks Ohanzee. As he waits for Ohanzee to reply, Ace sends out another text.
<<@Team [Ace] House is clear, though I encountered a robo-doc who was about to try resuscitate Mrs. Nately. Doc, we could sure use your help over here.>>
-
>> @Ace [Ohanzee] Sure, give the comms a shot. If that fails, sweep the house and look for anything we can use. Credsticks would be nice, but he has a lot of natural - and thus unlikely matrix connected and traceable - items that might fetch a good price. I'll see what I can do about the caller.
>> @Team [Ohanzee] We might have triggered an emergency response when the Nately's were disabled. Doc, we need you over here to have the biomonitors report everything as OK and see if a call went out. We also need you to lock down the security here - delete any evidence of us, make sure no one is watching remotely, the usual. And if we can't get the comms to work, you might have to get us into the RV.
>> If we want to take the skimobile, Chino will have to drive it. We can use the RV's pilot to get through town. We can then load the skimobile once we're out of town and out of sight. We can probably secure it to the roof. We'll pull the RV up to the Moran house to load up. If you have any plans for erasing our tracks between the houses, let's go with them. Maybe some magic hands to create some artificial snowfall?
Ohanzee takes Mrs. Nately's commlink from Ace, summons up his focus and brings forth an image of the Natelys standing beside each other and smiling pleasantly. The force of the spellcasting visibly drains him, but he soldiers on. He makes sure that he, Ace, and the bodies aren't in view of the camera and makes note of the last number the phone communicated with. Before dialing it, he consults with Doc to see what information he can glean about the owner of the commcode - daughter? Son? He might be able to get away with just calling them "Dear", but it couldn't hurt to have a little more information to help sell the illusion.
-
Seeing that Mr. Nately's comm is locked, Ace waits for Ohanzee to work his mojo before taking Mrs. Nately's Transys Avalon and using it to start the RV. He's back inside before Doc has made his way over, and regards Ohanzee, who looks as though his last illusion is really draining him. "You ok? Ace asks, skirting around the illusory Nately family. "RV's running. I can start a run-through of the house. I'll grab some clothes for the Natelys. They may be out for a bit, and there's no reason to keep them in soiled threads. Let me know what else you'd like me to grab." And with that, Ace is off again.
In their bedroom, Ace grabs a nice set matching monogrammed luggage and fills it with spare clothes for the Natelys. He is intimately familiar with the havoc that electricity can run on one's system, and figures it would be even worse for the elderly. Also into the bag goes Mrs. Nately's jewelry collection, as well as a few figurines and knickknacks that Ace could only guess the age or purpose of. He loads up the RV and is back in the living room to await Ohanzee's next task.
-
Doc disengages from the desk, grabs his few things and puts his coat back on. Heading out side he shivers, this is the first time he's left the warmth of the house since they got there. Turning up the collar on his coat, he hikes up the street to the neighbors as casually as he can. Walking up the steps to the front door, he's greeted at the door by Ohanzee. He looks around and shakes his head.
"That's a tall order omae, I'll see what I can do."
-
Katsina is up and in motion as soon as she gets word that the RV is unlocked. She finishes her preparation, pockets it, then casts a new Physical Mask spell so that she doesn't look like a masked bandit pilfering the house. Which she is.
After resuming her appearance as Ivana, she grabs her bags from the entryway. She doesn't wait for the RV to be backed up. Instead, she starts dragging her bags out the front door, carefully navigating them down the snowy front steps. She scampers across the driveway to the RV next door, lifting her bags into the back of the vehicle. She then makes a return trip, pulling the cooler full of frozen food and bags of blood. She wonders where Sam and Chino are. This would be much easier for them. She gets the cooler to the RV, then inside with a lurch (lift with your legs, not your back), then pushes it next to the refrigerator.
The interior of the RV is nice, in an old-person sort of way. There's wood paneling that's probably real, along with plenty of comfortable seating. There's a small kitchenette toward the front and a bedroom and bathroom toward the rear.
(http://www.amishcountry.org/images/stories/headers/21-rv-factory-tours.jpg)
She skips out of the RV then up the front steps into the Nately's home. She sees the stress that Ohanzee is under from his spellcasting.
"Téch... what happened to you?" She checks to see if the beer is having an adverse effect on his system. She sees the sustained spell on the astral; no use cleaning it up until he's dropped it though. "Leave a bit of juice for the crate. We can't get it without you."
-
As Doc approaches the house, Mr. Nately calls to him and waves him in to the house with a "Thank you for making the trip. Come on in out of the cold." As the perimeter of the illusion enters the house, Mrs. Nately reappears, busying herself in the main room. The effect is a little disturbing as the unconscious bodies of the real Natelys lay prone on the furniture of the living room.
Once both fake Natelys are together, Ohanzee directs Doc to the bodies so that he can work on the biomonitors. "Try to keep the noise down for a minute - I have to make a phone call."
He positions the Nately illusion and Mrs. Nately's commlink so that the bodies and any signs of the intruders are out of frame, then redials Edward J. Nately III. When he answers, Mrs. Nately speaks.
"I'm sorry about that, dear. Our Manservant hit me with a bit of a jolt - static electricity, I'm sure - and the medical drone over-reacted. Your father has scheduled it for maintenance, but it gave me a bit of a scare. Can I take a rain check on our conversation? I think some fresh air might do your father and I some good about now."
-
The voice on the young Nately is pinched and patrician. It bears all the marks of overbearing parenting and pampered youth. The lad is likely no older than 19 or 20.
"Mother? Mother dearest? Is that you? Are you quite well? I know how you suffer from episodes, especially after lunch. Are you quite certain that you are alright?
"Mother? Your voice is deathly ill. And ... are you fading? Mother, something is terribly wrong I can tell. This is all highly unusual. I insist that you call for help. I will not take 'no' for an answer. Here, I shall do it myself."
-
"I don't know why it's so difficult to get you to listen to your father and I, but you do what you must. I'm going to go lie down while your father finishes getting the Buffalo ready." Mrs. Nately's doppelgänger puts on her best look of maternal frustration, then Ohanzee terminates the call.
>> @Team [Ohanzee] Time to go. We'll have some medical techs here in a few minutes and I'd rather not be here to greet them if I can avoid it.
"Let's get the Natelys in the RV and get it to the Moran house." he says to Ace and Doc. Ohanzee uses the illusion to cover their trip to the Buffalo, making it appear as if the 5 of them were walking together and having a friendly conversation.
-
The only way Ace can function to keep his vision narrow, though he still finds himself walking around the illusory Mr. and Mrs. Nately. After loading them into the RV, Ace drives the Buffalo to Mr. Moran's house, where the rest of the team can load their gear, and he grabs his own duffel bag, along with anything else that needs lifting. When all the loading is done, Ace checks that the house is ready to burn. Satisfied, he comms the team.
<<@Team [Ace] Alright, that should be it. Anything else we need to do here, or can we light and go?
-
Once the RV stops near the house where the team had made its base of operations for most of the last day, Ohanzee hops out and heads inside to the crate holding the obelisk. He mentally checks in with Wolf to make sure the area is still clear of potential threats, then gets to levitating the crate. Without the mental bandwidth to conceal it with an invisibility spell, he must settle in trying to mask it with the illusion.
With a grunt, the crate slowly lifts from the ground. The spell barely supports the weight of the crate, and Ohanzee visibly shows the strain of sustaining the spells on top of the exhaustion from his prior spell casting. But, it should serve to help sell the illusion. When the dwarf exits the house, he is pushing a a large suitcase on wheels, with the handle extended to form a dolly. Furrows in the snow are left behind as it moves toward the motor home, and the observant would note that the furrows fade and then vanish as Ohanzee pushes forward, the illusory luggage leading the 36 foot diameter of the spell's effect.
Once situated in the RV, he drops the levitate spell, but keeps up the illusion. He finds a place to sit near the back that affords him an actual window to look through, and sits. Wolf remains un-materialized, but takes up a position toward the front of the vehicle, occasionally peeking out from the roof to get a good look outside the RV. The Nately's, the illusory ones, wander the RV, being sure to pass in front of open windows and doors frequently so that any passers by can be sure they are alive and well. The road is deserted, and no traffic seems to pass as the team makes its final preparations, but you can't be too cautious. Should the paramedics show, the display would go a long way to assuage their concerns, and hopefully let the RV continue on its way unmolested.
>> @Team [Ohanzee] I'm all set.
Checking that his body isn't going to fall off his chair, Ohanzee slips out of it and glides through the astral, cleaning up any signatures left behind at both of the houses. Satisfied that they have left as little evidence as they could considering the timetable for their departure, he returns to his body and relaxes as much as possible without dropping the illusion of the Natelys.
-
Looking around, Doc decides doing this from the comfort of the RV seems like the best idea. He helps Ace move the Nately's into the spacious mobile palace. He whistles appreciatively once inside. Setting the couple up in the bedroom seems the easiest thing to do.
Figuring they are going to need some access to the Buffalo anyway, he uses that as his in. Connected directly to the RV, he drops quickly into VR and gets to work. First things first, get Mrs. Nately's monitor to say that she's okay. His persona pulls on a surgical mask and starts using his scalple to inscribe marks on the Buffalo, the biomonitor and after a second attempt Mr. Nately's personal commlink. With that done, he quickly moves on to ordering the biomonitor to report that Mrs. Nately is in good health and resting. With that done, he enters the Host for the house, locates the video files, and does attempts to wipe traces of the team from the recordings. Flustered by all of the activity, he simply cuts out from 5 minutes before Ace and Ohanzee knocked on the door until the RV has moved down the street and replaces it with a section of equal time from an hour earlier. Careful examination will show that something wonky happened there, but they won't get their faces.
<<<@Ohanzee [Doc] I've got access to Mr. Nately's comm, want me to send a message to their son reassuring them? If so, gimme some good lines to use there, and I'll get it off. I don't think I can bluff as well as you can.>>>
Looking at the BabyMonitor running in the corner of his vision, he starts to get a bit nervous. He reboots as soon as he sends off the message.
-
>> @Doc [Ohanzee] If you can find an entry in either comm for a doctor nearby, send the following to the son "I'm taking your mother to see Dr. blah as it wouldn't do to have a bunch of yahoos stomp their muddy boots all over our cabin. You can meet up with us there if you like, but I assure you she is quite fine." Otherwise, use the same message with just the nearby hospital name. I think it's a lost cause, but it can't hurt and may just buy us a little extra time before they start looking for the RV in earnest.
-
<<<@Ohanzee [Doc] Thanks omae, I've got a shitty bedside manner. Just ask the Nately's! I'll tell him they are going to Aspen Valley and to bugger off ;)>>>
<<<@Nately Jr. [Natley Sr.] I'm taking your mother to Aspen Valley Hospital as it wouldn't do to have a bunch of yahoos stomp their muddy boots all over our cabin. You can meet up with us there if you would like, but I assure you she is quite fine.>>>
Just as he's finishing this message Doc's BabyMonitor starts blinking blood red and warning him that GOD is about to come down on his ass. Jacking out, he orders the deck to reboot imediately. Sitting back against the plush leather seat in the RV, he muses to himself that that's the closest he can remember to getting busted, even if it's less than 48 hours worth of memories. He notes it down as a new first, just like the rest of them.
'Alright chummers, looks like that bit is done, we should have at least a little bit of time to sneak outta here before they start looking for the RV or the Natelys....I hope."
-
It hadn't taken more than a few minutes to disarm the traps Sam had laid the night before and using up the last few drops from the gascan had proved to be more than enough to get a tiny little fire going near the back of the laundry room. It would be 5-10 minutes before it grew big enough to reach the lint trap on the dryer, but once it did, it was going to spread fast, hopefully through the A/C ducts in the house. Sam crossed his fingers about that last bit. Luck has not been on my side thus far. Perhaps she will change her tune today. After setting the fuse alight, he messages the rest of the team quickly while working his way through the house to the front to wait for the rest of the team to finish grabbing the RV across the street.
<<@Team [Sam] Fire has been started. We've got five, maybe ten minutes at most before it gets out of control.>>
------------------------
Once the RV pulls up outside, Sam waits until Ohanzee's Illusion spell kicks in before stepping inside it and vanishing into the image of the dwarf and his heavy luggage until they reach the RV. Sam tosses his bag full of gun parts and explosives in first, then hops in himself and helps the dwarf position the crate inside before he lets the levitation spell drop. Once Ohanzee is seated and strapped in, Sam can tell from his posture that he's about to project. He sits down cross legged on the floor of the RV next to the rickety crate with his rifle in his lap.
"I'll watch you while you're gone." he says matter of factly while waiting for the rest of the crew to assemble and their flight to... somewhere can begin.
-
Chino takes one last look at the snowmobile. He sighs. Would have been nice to take that, or at least turn it into a bomb. Good thing there is another one. He heads towards the couple's house after Ohanzee and Ace give the all clear. Inside their garage is a trailer. Perfect. He quickly attaches the trailer to the RV, pushing on it to make sure it's securely fastened. He unchains the nearby snowmobile and ATV, and slowly drives them into the trailer. Dragging the chains with him, he secures the two vehicles in the trailer. He dusts off his hands and smiles in satisfaction. He gives Ace a thumbs up, and the RV starts moving towards the house.
A minute later, he moves towards the newly parked RV and starts loading all their gear into it. He notices that the old couple are tied up and unconscious. Focusing on the tattoo on his forehead, the Astral world sparks to life. He looks at the old couple for a few seconds before turning back to mundane sight. He carefully puts the gear out of range of the couple.
He sits himself in the driver's seat and takes a few moments to familiarize himself with the controls. All right, I can drive this.
He turns in his seat and looks at his companions, "All right, I'm set up here. Everyone ready?" He waits for a confirmation before adding, "Let's roll then. We got a specific destination we're headed for?"
-
"I've been considering that." comes Ohanzee's voice from the back of the RV. It doesn't carry well, so he switches to comms.
>> @Team [Ohanzee] I think that Denver makes the ideal choice for a destination - we have contacts and resources there and the multiple sovereignties give us options, and increase the bureaucratic hurdles for our adversaries to properly engage significant resources. How we get there, however, provides a dilemma.
>> Going north takes us through Carbondale, which may be where their search is concentrated if my earlier ruse was successful. When they discover we were in Aspen, all of the folks in Carbondale might head there - passing right by us on the road. Katsina had brought up the observation that going south leaves us few turnouts, etc and therefore makes it easy to set up checkpoints that we couldn't avoid, and I concur. Staying in Aspen risks being found as they perform a search starting from the Moran house, since one of the best protections from a spirit's ability to search is distance.
>> Considering all that, I think north through Carbondale might prove the best option, with a boon-docking stop off before we get there. This gives them enough chance to divert many of the resources from Carbondale once they find our old hideout in Aspen, gives us enough distance to ensure the Search power fails, and prevents us from running into the troop movement on the road from Carbondale to Aspen. We have options to avoid roadblocks/checkpoints as there are more turn out options, and we should be able to skirt Carbondale - or at least stick to the outskirts as we pass through - once we get there.
>> Thoughts?
-
<<<@Nately Jr. [Natley Sr.] You can meet up with us there if you would like, but I assure you she is quite fine.>>>[/color]
<<@Nately II [Nately III] Meet up with you there? You know quite well that I am halfway across the globe! Who is this! What have you done to them! Unhand them you blackguards!>>
Katsina crouches guardedly next to the obelisk. The RV is big enough for her to have her claymore out, so she has it unsheathed.
"Whoever is looking for us knows what we are in Aspen. They'll be watching the road in and out of town. We can't go south - that's a choke point, and there are no turn offs for hours. We have to go north, toward Carbondale. If we turn down Cemetary Lane - ominous, I know - it will lead to a parallel road that leads out of town. The bad news is that it passes right by a choke point leading out of town. I think we need to expect contact."
The claymore spins in her hands to emphasize the point. She sends an ARO (http://goo.gl/maps/qE39x) to the team with her suggested route out of town.
"This thing probably drives like a beached whale, and I'm sure the trailer isn't helping any, nor the 400 kilos of obelisk and 900 kilos of metahumans. I doubt evasion will be an option, and our firing lanes are garbage since there are no windows facing the rear. If we get pinged I think we're going to have to lure them out of town, outside of SecForce's attention span, and then settle the matter."
-
Doc looks at the message from the younger Nately and curses loudly and turns off the comm.
<<<@Team [Doc] Welp the kid knows they've been kidnapped. So, that'll add to the fun. Anyone have any skills with modifying a license plate? I think I might be able to change ownership of RV so that we have registration worked out, but tags are going to be another probelm.
<Atachment: Nately_message.txt>
>>>
"No rest for the wicked, literally in this case." He thinks to himself.
"I don't think we'll have time to switch ownership before contact with some OppForce happens, so I'm going to hold off on that particular task until we are someplace off the road for a few hours... like 8 of them"
With that he loads the extra magazine into his elbow for his shotgun and reboots his 'deck again, just to be safe. Doesn't need GOD stepping in the middle of this whole thing ruining his day.
-
>> @Team [Ohanzee] "Halfway across the globe"? What a poor excuse for an exec. It's a four hour trip, tops - and probably more like two, for someone with the resources he'd likely have access to. If he was truly concerned, he'd make the trip. Either he's looking for an excuse not to act, or he's actually hoping his parents are kidnapped so he can spend money on the situation instead of actually be bothered to do something. Since he hasn't just dropped it after seeing through the ruse, I'd suspect the latter. Might be some easy money if we send a ransom, but we'd still have to be cautious about traceability. And with our attention split across so many slotting problems, it might not be worth the risk. But, if we do go that route, the Nately's are obviously familiar with any umber of crime families, based on the young Edward's conversation with mommy, and likely have dealing with them. Could be an angle to throw suspicion off for the kidnapping.
>> As for luring them out of town, I'd hate to send a flare up on our location like that, but if there's no way to avoid a confrontation, it makes the best sense to try to keep SecForce out of it as much as possible - at the best, they'll come down on both sides equally, in the worst case, they'll side with our pursuers. There's not much chance we'll get their support in the conflict considering our hands are far from clean and our gear alone probably violates a couple dozen laws. So, I concur - avoid the authorities at all costs. Especially since, if I have misjudged the younger Nately, our ride has probably already been reported as stolen.
>> Which actually provides an interesting option - send a ransom demand with the requirement that if he wishes to see his parents again, he keep the authorities out of it. That will at the very least buy us time.
-
Ace gets a brief flash of memory: a soft target, one of his own, was taken, and of the shadowrunners responsible. The razor girl was the first to fall. A hotshot spider fragged her eyes, and comm, and before she could react, Ace was on top her, crushing her windpipe in his hand before placing his Ares Lancer against her temple and pulling the trigger once. Inside, the mage was the first to go, two shots center mass, and Ace and his backup were across the room pinning down the decker and face before they had a chance to stand. Those two were dragged out, and it was the last Ace saw of them. Poor bastards.
<<@Team [Ace] Right idea, but I think the tactic needs refining. I doubt the usefulness of a ransom. We don't have a safehouse, and there's already a team on our tail. Best case scenario is Nately Enteprises sends along a team to track us, even if they intend to pay, and I have my doubts about that. We need to keep little Nately from comming corp HQ, or anyone for that matter. I say we tell him that if we wanted daddy and mommy dearest dead they'd be dead already. I'd tell him this has nothing to do with the corp, but if we get an inkling that he's contacted them, that we'll take his parents apart piece-by-piece. I'd say that we need his dad for something, and when it's done, we'll leave him where he has a more than reasonable chance to survive this, and I'd do all that right now before he gets too many ideas. It may be best to do this live, if Doc can obscure our faces and voices. Ohanzee, if you want to good-cop bad-cop this, I'll be happy to help.>>
Ace extends the cyber spurs from his left arm and retracts them, working his hand into a fist.
-
<<<@Team [Doc] I can play cinematographer for you guys. Blurring faces isn't hard especially if you don't move around all that much. We can sit them up in the bedroom showing their condtion. Can even do some first aid on the Mrs. if we want to keep her healthier, you did a doosey on her Ace ;) I agree on the sooner than later on this. Nice thing about the RV is we can do this on the move. Chino can get us on the road while we vid-chat with Junior.>>>
-
Sam doesn't like any of this, but he sees that Ohanzee is playing as best he can with the hand he's been dealt, so he stays quiet and listens to the comm chatter. When the subject of the ransom video comes up, he breaks his digital silence.
<<@Team [Sam] Keep me out of the frame please.>>
Sitting on the floor next to the crate, he takes stock of his ammo, what limited amount there is anyway; The hunting rifle and deer ammo he picked up. If we run into some unarmored foes, this should do fine. Or at least make me look intimidating once I run out of assault rifle ammo. Sixteen mini-grenades, one full clip of APDS, and another missing 6 rounds are all he's got for the XM30. Only now does that fact start to bother him.
When he'd originally woken up in a bullet riddled van hanging off the side of a cliff and had six rounds missing from the clip in his weapon, he's assumed they were in a firefight when the crash occurred. Matter of fact, it had BEEN those six missing rounds that had given him that impression in the first place. He could think of no other reason why he'd have anything other than a full clip at the time. Even without any memories of who he was or what sort of man he used to be, he feels in his BONES that he was the sort of man who'd reload a partially emptied weapon after a firefight.
But the evidence seemed to point strongly to the fact that they were NOT in fact in a firefight when the crash happened. So, why didn't I reload the gun? WAS there a firefight going on after all? Maybe inside the van? He glances around the RV, looking at each team member briefly before settling his eyes back on the rifle. He stares at the little ARO reading 24/30 above the stock and thinks long and hard. I wonder if the smartlink keeps records of when the weapon has been fired? He types an order into his comm, hoping for the best.
<<Display most recent 48 hours firing record for XM30.>>
-
>> @Team [Ohanzee] I'm in.
Ohanzee moves to the sleeping form of Mrs. Nately and kneels down, stabilizing himself against the motion of the rolling house. After carefully maneuvering the virtual Natelys away from the windows, he releases the spell generating the illusory Natelys and they vanish. He begins chanting, the act focusing his mind as it begins to channel magic. He touches Mrs. Nately's forehead as the spell forms. Instantly, healing mana flows through her body, healing the physical trauma sustained from Ace's taser. After about ten seconds of concentration, Mrs. Nately's has returned to near perfect health, though still unconscious from the stun. Then he stands up and begins working with Ace to set the stage for their "conversation" with the younger Nately.
-
A thought briefly flits its way across Ace's mind. What if Doc decides not to doctor the comm call? That's the last thing I need. He doesn't see a lot of options, though, and waits for the call to be connected. When Nately junior's face comes live, Ace begins speaking.
"We would have rather kept you out of this. I'm sure your father feels the same way. But here's the deal, Junior. We need your father, and your mother, and it's for something that only they can provide. If we wanted them dead, they would already be dead." Ace flexes the cyber spurs from his hand, and retracts them in one fluid motion. "If you go to the authorities, I will personally take them apart piece-by-piece, and I'm going to start with your mother, so Mr. Edward J. Nately II can watch his beloved become less and less of herself as I work. If you contact Nately Enterprises, or any other corporate entity, I will do the same. If you contact your brothers. . .well, I think you know where I'm going now, don't you?"
Ace nods his head to Ohanzee. "This one insists that you will be reasonable, that there is no need for bloodshed here. So far, my compatriots have agreed with him. But I gotta tell you, I've been itching, and while they've held me at bay so far, I can be very persuasive if given the chance."
Ace motions for Doc to pan the camera to show Mr. and Mrs. Nately. "As you can see, they are quite alive, and given some time, they will be back to skiing and enjoying all that the PCC has to offer. Speaking of which, I know your father is quite fond of the slopes. Now, do I need to take off his big toe for you to know that I'm serious? I've been told that losing that particular digit is just hell on your balance. They'd have to take his whole foot to bring him back to working order." Ace extends his cyber spur once more, and carefully cuts the leather of Mr. Nately's shoe, splitting it from the top to toe. Then he cuts away Mr. Nately's sock. "What do you think, Junior? Can you keep your trap shut, or do I need to go to work?"
-
Sam examines the output of his query to his smartlink. It does not track second-by-second or minute-by-minute firing patterns, but it does record hourly patterns for the sake monitoring wear and tear on the gun's internal parts. It records the configuration of the XM30 at the time, but not the type of ammunition fired.
<<HK XM30 Modular Weapon System>>
<<Firing records for January 30, 2075>>
<<no rounds fired>>
<<Firing records for January 31, 2075>>
<<5PM: HK XM30 Carbine: 6 rounds fired, 2 underbarrel grenades fired>>
<<8PM: HK XM30 Carbine: 24 rounds fired, 10 underbarrel grenades fired>>
<<8PM (cont): HK XM30 LMG: 200 rounds fired>>
<<9PM: HK XM30 Assault Rifle: 36 rounds fired, 1 underbarrel grenade fired>>
<<Firing records for February 1, 2075>>
<<12AM: HK XM30 Assault Rifle: 1 underbarrel grenade fired>>
It looks like there were two separate periods of firing activity: the first was relatively sedate but the second was very intense. Perhaps he was allowed to be more selective with his shooting to begin, but then circumstances changed. He recalls the security footage (http://forums.shadowruntabletop.com/index.php?topic=17816.msg320101#msg320101) that showed him firing on full auto while exiting the facility with Blue Team and the crate.
Sam mentally notes that firing was complete before he wrote to the Johnson at 10pm. Still, based on the firing records he's guessing he was pretty pissed when he wrote to that fragger.
<<@Nately II [Nately III] Oh you hard hearts, you cruel men, you worse than senseless things! You will perform no such travesty! You will unhand them at once! I have already contacted the proper authorities; I did so immediately. You shall pay for your nefarious deeds, villain.>>
On cue, Doc's agent detects an icon running silently within 100 meters.
<<Agent Message: New Device Detected!>>
<<Device ID: UNKNOWN>>
<<Location: Within 100 meters>>
<<This Device is Running Silent>>
-
As soon as Chino heard the woman's strangely phrased outburst, or at least what sounded like an outburst, maybe it was Martian; he shifted into drive. I knew we should have just gotten rid of the fragging oldies before anything could be alerted.
<<@Team [Chino] We're outta here. I'm taking the route Katsina laid out, we'll figure it out from there. It might get bumpy, I'm going to try and coax some extra speed out of this behemoth.>>
Not waiting for a reply, he stepped his foot down to the pedal and silently prayed to as many religious names as he could remember that they would get out quickly enough.
-
<<@Nately II [Nately III] Oh you hard hearts, you cruel men, you worse than senseless things! You will perform no such travesty! You will unhand them at once! I have already contacted the proper authorities; I did so immediately. You shall pay for your nefarious deeds, villain.>>
A genuine look of disappointment crosses Ace's face, and he lets out a determined and resigned sigh. "Alright, kid, have it your way. I'd be checking your mail, chummer," He signals for the video to be cut, and he faces Mrs. Nately.
-
Chino finds a gap in traffic and turns west onto Highway 82. It's 1.5km until he can turn off onto side streets. Traffic is moving slowly as the crowds begin to fill the town center on a Friday afternoon.
Ace's look of disappointment - Oscar-worthy, no doubt - is lost to the ages as Doc blurs his face from the video feed.
<<@Nately II [Nately III] Oh do your worst to your silly apparitions! They do not fool me, the way that Baba and Poppop fade in and out of existence. Your clumsy illusions are practically transparent; your ruse has failed. Do what you wish; I no longer believe you.>>
Katsina looks up at Ace. She looks like she's about to speak but she thinks better of having her voice recorded. She texts instead:
<<@Team [Katsina] It appears we have exhausted our credibility. No matter what we do, he may not believe us.>>
Then a message from Doc blasts through the system:
<<@Team [Doc] Matrix Alert!>> Who knows what the hell that means but it probably isn't good.
The agent responds to Doc's command promptly. After scanning the target, it replies with the following:
<<Agent Message: Silent Device Details>>
<<Device ID: NOVATECH NAVIGATOR>>
<<Last Matrix Action: HACK ON THE FLY>>
<<Programs Running: TRACK, LOCKDOWN, VIRTUAL MACHINE, SIGNAL SCRUB, EXPLOIT>>
-
Ohanzee perks up at the message from Doc.
"Kill the wireless on anything the Nately's have. Do the same for your gear if it isn't necessary right now."
>> @Doc [Ohanzee] Mr. Nately had some head gear. I know you're busy, but if you or your agent can spare the bandwidth, can you make sure it's secure or off?
He begins powering off the wireless for the Nately's gear, starting with the biomonitors.
-
Just as Ace is giving his top notch performance, the AR window he has with the reports from the Agent blare red and he alerts the team to the impending threat. With that he drops where he is, likely painfully but he wouldn't know, into VR and readies himself to confront this mysterious icon approaching. With the Agent's report identifying the icon as a cyber deck Doc throws caution to the wind, and he charges the icon swinging his scalpel to inscribe his caduceus on the mysterious decker.
-
Doc unexpectedly and unceremoniously collapses into a heap on the floor of the RV. Katsina sheathes her claymore in one fluid motion before going over to straighten him out. Doc, ever agile, managed to land on his face and give himself a bloody nose. Great, DNA, Katsina thinks to herself. Also, nanites. She pauses at the sight of his blood, takes a deep breath, then rolls him over. Once she's satisfied that he's not going to choke to death on his tongue or blood, she turns her attention to her commlink. She gives a mental order for it to go on full defense, repelling any unauthorized marks.
<<Agent Message: Silent Device Details>>
<<Device ID: NOVATECH NAVIGATOR>>
<<Current Configuration: Attack 3, Sleaze 6, Data Processing 4, Firewall 5>>
Doc glances at the icon for the silent device. The persona looks like a Minuteman, a UCAS patriot from three hundred years ago. The minuteman wears a tricorne hat and uses a musket and a piccolo. It pipes a merry tune to Mr. Nately's commlink but make no progress. Mr. Nately's persona disappears unexpectedly, indicating to the minuteman that the redcoats are coming. It dives behind a rock, signalling its full defense.
Doc has his scalpel out, and before the minuteman can react Doc has carved two deep incisions into the other persona - one on each arm. The minuteman hastily removes a roll of bandages and quickly begins to wrap one arm but it's no use. The bleeding seeps through the bandage; the mark remains.
-
As the Minuteman ducks behind the boulder as the cannonfire ricochets around the scene that suddenly forms the immediate surroundings, Doc leaps more gracefully than anyone could in the "real" world, his white lab coat floating around him. Laughing somewhat maniacally as his caducei draw blood from the enemy decker. The Agent sends some more information:
<<<Agent Message: Minuteman>>>
<<<Device ID: NOVATECH NAVIGATOR>>>
<<<Commcode #### #### #### #### #### #### #### #####>>>
<<<Undamaged>>>
<<<Marks: Caduceus (2)>>>
He attempts to follow the data flow back to its origin as the freedom fighter keeps trying to hide. Quickly he commands the Agent to protect his gear, then with a primal scream through the Matrix he takes his scalpel in both hands and attempts to drive it through the heart of the fallen patriot in an attempt to drive him from the matrix as quickly as possible.
-
His scalpel sunk all the way through the Minuteman's chest, and he vanishes from the matrix.
<<<@Team[Doc] We had an old fashion patriot attempting to find Mr. Nealy's comm. This one is gone and s/he'll have one hell of a headache, and a ruined 200k¥ piece of hardware. I can confirm that they've not found us yes. Can someone pick me up off the floor and set me some place nice? I'm going to keep an eye out for more snoopers and see what info I can find.>>>
Doc puts the Agent back on overwatch duty and starts to sift through AR data at a dizzying speed.
-
At the mention of a Matrix attack, Chino just shakes his head. Back to the same old stuff, I guess.
Renraku Sensei
/reboot
...Command Input...
...Shutting Down...
And with a thought, his commlink goes into a shutdown sequence. He knows he can handle the route for a few seconds, and he doesn't want to have someone hacking his commlink. He'd had enough fragups with the whole obelisk incident. He calls to the rest of the team in the back, "I'll be driving manually up here. If we have any Matrix visitors, I don't want them to start hacking the car. If you need me, shout; got it?"
A few seconds later, his commlink reboots, and Chino pulls up the ARO map again. I hope that this isn't just another day on the job, or I was a seriously fragged up guy. Who makes a living doing this sort of drek? Me, I guess. He sighs and turns back to driving.
-
Katsina looks around the RV, wondering where to put Doc where he's not going to flop around in the event that the driving gets rough. The Natelys are underfoot too. She considers putting Doc in bed at the rear of the RV, although there's some danger if their pursuers decide to go full auto. Maybe that's where the Natelys should go.
Beside the kitchenette there's a long couch that they could stretch Doc out on; the downside is that it's right next to a window that Ace might need to fire out of.
<<@Team [Katsina] Doc, we'll put you on the couch.>>
She looks up at Ace. "Can you help me lift him on the couch, and then drag the Natelys back to the bedroom?"
She gets under Doc's shoulders, hoping Ace can grab his feet.
<<@Ohanzee [Katsina] Let's tag-team the counterspelling too. You take the front, I'll take the rear, unless you have a different plan.>>
-
"There's a good chance that the Matrix scout is a precursor to a larger attack. It'll probably take them a few minutes to show up assuming they have a presence in Aspen. Playing it safe, let's assume they do. So, battle stations, I guess. Keep a sharp eye out."
He sends a quick thought to Wolf to be on his guard - the meat world was the slowest to cover distance in, so it seemed likely that if Nately Enterprises had Awakened talent at its disposal - and the way his week had been going, it was a safe bet - that'd be the next direction an attack came from. Wolf wagged his tail in happy anticipation, a sight all the more disturbing due to the blood perpetually dripping from the spirit's mouth.
He searches Mr. Nately for a biomonitor, but comes up empty. For now, it appears that Mrs. Nately's biomonitor and their commlinks were the only wireless devices they had. It seemed safe to assume that the gear in Mr. Nately's head was also wireless, but Doc would be handling that.
Ohanzee then commands all of his gear to reboot and stay wireless off. Once they come back up he turns the wireless back on on the commlink, but keeps it running silent, and joins it back to Doc's PAN.
As soon as his commlink connects to the Matrix, he gets Katsina's request. He nods to her as her and Ace start moving Doc, and heads to the front.
-
Upon hearing about the matrix threat, Ace reboots his commlink with a mental command. He's about to tell the team to shut off the Nately's comms as well, but he looks up to see them doing just that.
She looks up at Ace. "Can you help me lift him on the couch, and then drag the Natelys back to the bedroom?"
She gets under Doc's shoulders, hoping Ace can grab his feet.
Ace nods and comes around to Doc's feet so they can set him on the sofa bed. Ace would like it if they could get a seat belt on him as well, but he doesn't see that option available. When Doc is relatively secure, Ace checks the time at the head of the RV, as his comm hasn't come back online yet, and does a mental countdown. Then it's over to his duffel bag. He starts with the rifle he got off the hunters, and checks the ammo readout. Then, he pulls out an Ares Lancer and makes sure that the power cells are topped off. Good.
With Sam sitting shotgun, Ace figures that the right side and front of the RV are covered, so he goes to the double-sinks on the driver's side, to see if he'll be able to pop out and fire from a reasonably secure position. It's not bad, actually. Since he'll be sitting, he can brace the offhand on his knee, which will cut down some on the strain of shooting while leaning out. It'll do in a pinch anyway. Next, Ace looks at the roof hatch; that would work even better, if only there was something he could stand on to pop out and let loose with a few rounds. Of course, the table is bolted down, as are any other chairs. The oven range, on the other hand, that might work. Heavy enough to not move much should the driving get crazy, but light enough that he could pull it in place. Ace goes to give it a closer look.
-
The RV crawls through town. Chino privately curses Katsina for selecting a route with so many turns in it. The RV drives like a blimp in a hurricane and the trailer is NOT improving matters. The team passes through thick swarms of skiers coming down off the slopes, happily chatting about where to get a drink. They're oblivious to the slow procession of your rolling kidnap parade. Doc's agent races around looking for devices running silently. Of course, the other side is probably doing the same. If this land barge spends too long within 100m of whoever's looking for them, odds are good that you'll be spotted.
Chino, looking ahead on GridGuide, sees a route that doesn't use Highway 82 at all. Instead it takes Smuggler Street (that sounds promising!) to Power Plant Road, but frag! There's a hairpin turn in Power Plant Road. Chino doesn't think that the Hindenburg here can make the turn on a icy road, especially not with the trailer. He grits his teeth and turns onto Highway 82. They only need to make it about six blocks before the turnoff to Cemetery Lane...
"Contact!" Katsina shouts just as the RV rolls onto the bridge passing over Castle Creek. (Naturally, as soon as you can't turn around...) She grabs her head, concentrating on the signal. "Other side of the bridge! Down the gravel road to the left!"
Sure enough, there are two black vehicles waiting: a GMC Bulldog and a Tata Hotspur, an off-road racing truck. Katsina looks left, looks right, then drops prone because she can't think of what else to do.
The RV rolls by their position, then turns off on Cemetery Lane. For a moment, nothing. Nobody else turns off on the road behind you. Then, two black vehicles make the turn. Doc's Agent lights up.
<<Agent Message: New Device Detected!>>
<<Device ID: UNKNOWN>>
<<Location: Within 100 meters>>
<<This Device is Running Silent>>
Katsina gets to her feet, drops her Detect Enemies spell, and unsheathes her sword. With her other hand she grabs a preparation from her pocket, triggering a spell. She gives Ace a meaningful look. "Remember that carving I made for you?"
She rolls the claymore over in her hands. Who knows what she's planning to do with it inside the RV, but she obviously feel better with it out.
-
As the RV crawls through town, Ace busies himself by pulling the oven range from its corner and placing it directly underneath the roof hatch. Climbing on top of it, he sees there still some space between himself and the roof, but he can open the hatch just fine, and will be able to jump up if needed. It'll do in a pinch.
He jumps down to the floor of the RV, a little unsure what to do with himself now, when Katsina cries out:
"Contact!" Katsina shouts just as the RV rolls onto the bridge passing over Castle Creek. (Naturally, as soon as you can't turn around...) She grabs her head, concentrating on the signal. "Other side of the bridge! Down the gravel road to the left!"
Ace posts up by the driver's side window again, peaking out from the blinds surreptitiously as the Buffalo passes. This is not good. Luckily, there's only 2. When the vehicles don't immediately give chase, Ace lets out a sigh of relief, thinking that maybe they haven't been made. That illusion is soon dashed. He composes a message to the team:
<<@Team [Ace] We've got 2 males in the Tata Hotspur, 1 male, 1 female in the front of the Bulldog, possibly certainly more in the back. They're decked out for trouble.>>
Katsina gets to her feet, drops her Detect Enemies spell, and unsheathes her sword. With her other hand she grabs a preparation from her pocket, triggering a spell. She gives Ace a meaningful look. "Remember that carving I made for you?"
She rolls the claymore over in her hands. Who knows what she's planning to do with it inside the RV, but she obviously feel better with it out.
Ace pats the area just under his breast pocket where the carving lays and nods his head before turning to Ohanzee looking for guidance. As he waits he turns Wireless functionality on all of his gear, and sets it to run silent.
-
Doc sees the alert from the Agent and sends another, slightly better worded, message to the team.
<<<@Team[Doc] Looks like we've got another icon snooping around. I'll get us some more information. Keep things silent or off if you can, also, feel free to slave them to my deck if you want.
Attachment: Slave_Perms.sec>>>
-
Following the situation with the black cars and the new matrix threat, Ohanzee shifts his sight to the Astral. Wolf is keeping watch, but if a spirit or projecting mage showed up, he wanted to be ready to assess the situation before Wolf decided the best defense was a swift offense.
"Let's try not to initiate aggression here and see if we can lure them out of town at least. But be ready if they decide to make the first move. It's possible this many devices running silent in one vehicle has piqued their interest and they're trying to sweat us into showing our hand. If we keep an even keel, maybe they'll decide to break off and look for trouble elsewhere."
Fat chance, the way our day's been going. But they couldn't risk a gun battle inside the city limits. Not that the PCC's jurisdiction stopped at the city limits, but if there weren't any innocent bystanders to report the action, the PCC might just continue on, blissfully unaware of the high crimes being committed. Or, with no civilians at risk, they might just be inclined to let the criminal element kill each other, and turn a blind eye so long as the team was heading away from the high density of rich folk.
But more likely, they'd have a bunch of yahoos with itchy trigger fingers just looking for an excuse to field some of the bigger guns in their arsenal. In all cases, it boiled down to a gun battle being a big problem, so avoiding it seemed the smart play.
As a future note to self, running silent is a no-no. Leave that crap to Doc and his ilk.
Switching his commlink wireless on might look even more suspicious at this point. Or it might just look like I was trying to avoid an Ex while driving through town. Either way, it was likely better than attracting more attention from more people. He switched his commlink to stop running silent. Just a guy with a phone, nothing to see here...
-
Chino does his best to split his attention between the rear view mirror and the road ahead of him. He notices some motion behind him; there's a rotodrone taking off from bed of the Tata Hotspur. There's an assault rifle of some sort on its weapon mount. Sam, in the right rear-view mirror, sees the Bulldog's passenger window rolling down.
Doc's agent continues to light up with new alerts:
<<Agent Message: New Device Detected!>>
<<Agent Message: New Device Detected!>>
<<Agent Message: New Device Detected!>>
<<Agent Message: New Device Detected!>>
<<Agent Message: New Device Detected!>>
<<Agent Message: New Device Detected!>>
<<Device IDs: UNKNOWN>>
<<Location: Within 100 meters>>
<<These Devices are Running Silent>>
That makes for a total of seven (7) devices running silent. Doc can also see three vehicle icons - one each for the Hotspur, the Bulldog, and the rotodrone - and a persona in the Bulldog. He'll have to decide which to tackle first.
Astrally, the RV gets very crowded all of a sudden. Four spirits join you, along with an astrally projecting magician. The magician sees Katsina, Ohanzee, and Wolf staring back at her. The don't look like they are inviting themselves over for tea.
Ohanzee feels an icy sensation reaching for his heart. He doesn't know if it's fear or something worse, but it feels a lot like fear.
-
Doc and his Agent rapidly scan the silent devices, looking for the most threatening of the lot. Just as they finish another persona appears out of nowhere - like an agent program much like Doc's own - and the rotodrone takes off with a jumped-in rigger. Doc deduces that the persona in the Bulldog not running silently must be a decker and pounces on it accordingly. Drawing his scalpel, he rushes forward swishing the small blade ahead of him like Zorro. The other persona looks like a shadowy version of Little Red Riding Hood. Doc goes straight for the breastbone, inscribing a mark down the persona's chest like he's about to perform open-heart surgery. The persona is marked.
Sam glances back, seeing a large, irritible-looking ork leaning out the window of the Bulldog. Sam, being a gun nut, immediately recognizes the HK-227 in the man's hand. The ork looks ready to shoot but doesn't.
In the rear view mirror, Chino sees the rotodrone fly up and disappear from his cone of vision. It's somewhere above the RV now.
Inside, Katsina, Ohanzee, and Ace look on with horror as a fire spirit materializes inside the RV. It appears as a flaming imp, cackling to itself and crackling as its energy aura begins to heat the overly-carpeted interior of the wood-paneled RV...
-
Feeling that he's behind the curve on this as it is, Doc doesn't waste any time and goes for a mark on the persona he's assuming is the decker. His scalpel easily scars the caduceus into the persona, though not as deeply as he would have liked. The Agent continues to identify targets for Doc to eliminate.
-
In the astral, Wolf rockets out of the RV to materialize in the Bulldog. The projecting magician in the RV tears off after Wolf in hot pursuit. Wolf receives a warm welcome from the Bulldog. A heavily tattooed man draws a Ruger Super Warhawk and plants a shot square into Wolf. The spirit shakes with annoyance but the damage is more to its pride than its being.
The ork in the passenger seat of the Bulldog spins around with his HK-227, firing a short burst of explosive rounds into Wolf's back. The spirit sighs with contentment at the impromptu massage, the rounds having no effect whatsoever other than to wet Wolf's palate for the coming onslaught. The projecting magician rushes back to try to attack Wolf from the astral but that effort finds no traction. Wolf swats aside the attack and considers his many options. There are six targets within the Bulldog. In addition to the two shooters and the body of the projecting magician, there is the driver and a massive troll that looks ready to attack.
Back in the RV, another fire spirit materializes. One of the spirits remaining on the astral attacks Katsina astrally while the other goes after Ohanzee. Katsina steels her will and deflects the attack while Ohanzee barely parries the another. Chino presses a button on the dashboard of the RV, then stands and cracks his knuckles. Ace lines up a shot with his Lancer while Katsina readies her revenge on the spirits.
-
As the heat lashes against his back, Chino grins. It can only mean one thing, and he knows what it is. Chino sets the course and locks it into the RV's autopilot. He gets out of his seat and turns around to see a Fire Spirit.
The tattoos on his arms pulse with energy, and Chino gleefully wills energy into them. He briefly sends a message to his team:
<<@Team [Chino] I'm putting this thing on autopilot; I've got the spirit that's in the RV.>>
He realizes what he's about to do is going to look insane, but he continues to smile. He cracks his knuckles and then charges the Spirit.
-
Wolf vanishes from the RV and races toward the Bulldog - as a summoned spirit, the projecting mage poses a threat if he should choose to attempt banishing him. But even though movement is nearly instantaneous on the Astral, the heightened speed of thought allows the mage to see Wolf streak in the direction of his unconscious - and unprotected - body. Putting tow and two together, he follows.
Wolf materializes in the vehicle following the RV and finds a warm welcome. Not unexpected - the spirit knew the fleshy occupants would attempt to defend themselves - but he does not fear the mundane weapons the prey on the material plane use. Only those that carry the title of Awakened concern the spirit. Two of the occupants open fire, their loud weapons barking their ire. The first man gets a good shot off, the bullet of a massive one handed weapon startling Wolf as it finds purchase and wounds him. It is a minor would, but the spirit has difficulty staying on task, wanting to make the fleshling pay for its efforts. The second man, an ork, uses his weapon on the spirit, a short three note staccato, and the bullets collide with Wolf's deceptively solid flank. Where they collide with his form, small blooms of fire break out. Wolf barely registers the sting.
Wolf shakes off his anger at the first human and gets back to his task - identifying the limp form of the mage and preparing to rend it open and spill its warm innards into his hungry, waiting gullet. But the body's owner shows and makes a strong effort to bat Wolf away. Wolf narrowly dodges the attack; even though the mage is no match for him in Astral Combat, Wolf had not expected him to follow so quickly and was nearly surprised.
Surveying the situation, Wolf notes another, large fleshling preparing to attack. He pays it little heed - a cursory inspection shows the aura as mundane. Eliminating the three enemies attacking him, he focuses on the remaining three auras to look for the mage's unprotected body.
Meanwhile, Ohanzee fares only slightly better as one of the remaining spirits moves to attack him. Fortunately, it is a weak spirit and Ohanzee is able to avoid the attack - barely. He notes absently that another fire spirit has materialized in the RV, making the meat world very nearly as dangerous as the Astral. He struggles with the decision to keep his Astral eyes peeled and fight a battle on two fronts, or try to force the spirits to play on his home ground? The latter option has the advantage of limiting the danger from the projecting mage should Wolf fail in his mission, and Ohanzee makes one last sweep of the Astral before making the final decision.
-
The ride goes smoothly for a few minutes, but the feeling in Sams stomach never budges an INCH. Those spirits had my place staked out. There will be bloodshed today. There is simply no chance that with everything we've done this morning that we won't have to shoot today. He looks down regretfully at the 24/30 hovering above the rifle in his lap as they roll quietly through the mountains, waiting for the signal.
"Contact! Other side of the bridge! Down the gravel road to the left!"
As soon as the masked woman speaks, Sam sees the two vehicles and frowns. And so it begins. He double checks that his launcher is loaded with frag grenades and casually rolls the window down.
<<<@Team[Doc] Looks like we've got another icon snooping around. I'll get us some more information. Keep things silent or off if you can, also, feel free to slave them to my deck if you want.
Attachment: Slave_Perms.sec>>>
<<@Team [Uncle Sam] Will do.>> Sam gives the mental order through his trodes to slave all his gear to Doc's pilfered deck as he watches the two vehicles through the rearview, wondering when the fireworks would begin. Mere moments later, the smell of smoke and brimstone fills the cabin and a spirit wreathed in flame erupts from the ether inside the passenger compartment.
Before Sam can react, Chino tears himself out of the drivers seat and heads back to do battle with the spirit after putting the RV on autopilot. At least, Sam hopes he put it on autopilot. He remembers Chino mentioning how effective he was in a fight against spirits, and hopes beyond hope that it wasn't just his ego talking. No time to think about that now. That's not my job. He cooly leans his arm holding the rifle out the window, using the video feed in his goggles to line up a shot behind them, trying to decide which vehicle to fire at. If I were a summoner, which vehicle would I want to hide in? He bobs the targeting reticle back and forth between the two vehicles out of indecision.
<<@Team [Ace] We've got 2 males in the Tata Hotspur, 1 male, 1 female in the front of the Bulldog, possibly certainly more in the back. They're decked out for trouble.>>
The bulldog it is, then.
He steadies his arm as best he can over the bouncy terrain and when he's certain he's lined up the best shot he can get, he pulls the trigger, counts to one and a half and gives the mental order to <Detonate>, hoping for the best.
-
As much as he wants to, Ohanzee can't abandon his allies fighting in the Astral. So he steels himself, and fully engages the spirit. With a mental swipe that would have embarrassed even a novice mage, he luckily manages to connect with the spirit. And even more luckily, the spirit practically walks into it - as much as walking is a possibility in the Astral. It howls in pain as Ohanzee's strike severely wounds it. The dwarf allows himself a brief elation at the turn of events, but just as quickly begins worrying about when this new run of good luck will end.
"Contact on the Astral, too. Four spirits and a projecting mage, including the two materialized spirits." he shouts. He's dimly aware that everyone is already in motion. So much for avoiding a fight, he thinks with a twinge of sorrow.
-
Behind him erupts a loud "whump!", followed shortly by a feeling not unlike standing too near to a heated oven with the door open. The RV rocks gently, then settles for a moment. Then it begins to swerve wildly, pulls strongly to the right and actually slides sideways for a few moments before the battle between friction and momentum resolves itself, and the vehicle lists dangerously to the left. Ohanzee barely has time to register an Oh, this is not good before gravity takes over, and the RV tips over completely, sliding on its side for a few seconds before coming to an abrupt halt.
Better a tree than the cliff. He takes quick stock of his situation. Well now, this seems familiar. At least I'm not upside down this time. The restraints bit heavily into his chest and gut, but the more concerning pain comes from his head and neck. Whiplash was a certainty, and there was a sharp pain in the back of his head that he was sure would leave a mark, if it wasn't already bleeding.
The spirit he was fighting paused for a moment, perhaps confused by the odd shifting of the gray shapes it perceived the real world as, but it quickly adjusted and continued its previous actions. The crash had not harmed it, of course, and Ohanzee's precarious position would surely limit his defensive options. He steeled himself for the worst, even while hoping that his friends fared at least as well as he did.
-
Sam is a big troll with a big gun, which he hopes is the solution the big problem that's hot on his tail. The RV will never outrun the Bulldog and the Tata, at least under normal conditions. Sam rolls down the passenger window with an idea about how to make the pursuers think twice. Or, if he can't get them to reconsider, then at least slow them down a bit.
He sticks his arm out the window with the Ares Alpha is one of his huge hands. The weapon's internal smartlink camera feeds an image to Sam's goggles, displaying a reticle that hovers over the Bulldog's windshield. This is a difficult position, one not suited for pinpoint accuracy, but Sam has the double-advantage of an area-effect weapon that makes precision unnecessary and some of the finest muscle control that money can buy. He doesn't even have to squeeze the trigger; a mental command sent through his trodes is enough to lob a grenade straight for the Bulldog. An instant later, he gives the mental command to >Detonate<.
The Bulldog sees what is coming and swings wildly to the left, but is constrained by the guardrail. The frag grenade detonates, showering the right half of the Bulldog with a dispersion of small projectiles. The ork in the passenger seat arches his back as he is peppered with hot fragments. The right-side windows shatter, raking the passengers with tumbling metal and pieces of glass. The tires burst but don't go completely. Despite the ice and narrow road, the Bulldog driver retains control.
Retaliation comes swiftly. A combat mage in the trailing Tata responds with a fireball aimed at Sam's arm. Sam sees it coming through his smartlink camera and has the good sense to pull his arm inside and use it - and his flame-retardant jacket - to cover his face as he leans away. There's a blast of light and flame, the intense heat doing nothing to the troll, shielded as he is by the door and Katsina's counterspelling. The RV's tires are another matter. The front-right tire gives out instantaneously, sending the rim to the roadway in a shower of sparks. The RV's autopilot isn't up to the challenge and responds disastrously. The RV lurches to the right, pulled by the additional friction of the rim, until it veers off the road and begins slamming into the thin trees lining the shoulder. The trees give way easily but the shoulder is lower than the road itself. Ohanzee's eyes go wide as the RV leans further, further, until it finally flips on its side.
Sam sees the ground rushing toward him; he has a close-up view of the RV grinding through the snow and soft earth. Inside, everything tumbles. The obelisk falls, shattering its crate. The stove that Ace had pulled away from the wall slams to the ride side of the RV, now the floor, and threatens to roll forward before its square shape stops it just short of Ace himself. The Natelys are thrown rudely from the bed; Doc's limp form tumbles out of the couch on the left and somehow lands comfortably against the back of the dinette booth on the right. Katsina faceplants, her ballistic mask taking the worst of it, and grabs her sword before it can skewer Chino or Ohanzee. Chino tumbles and lands hard on his back. In a daze, Katsina looks around for Ace but only sees the fire spirits bobbing in place, unaffected by the sudden directional change of gravity.
Ohanzee bangs the back of his head but thanks his foresight to buckle in. Sam rages against the situation, taking out his frustration on the airbag that had the effrontery to go off in his face. His head spins. The only way out now is through the driver's side door 3 meters above him, or the emergency escape hatch in the roof. Outside, the rotodrone buzzes while the Bulldog and the Tata slam on their brakes.
-
Ace lines up a shot he feels very good about, but the fire spirit doges the laser with a preternatural ease that gives Ace pause. Swift little bastard. I won't make the same mistake twice. Ace is lining up a reply when he sees a flash of fire near Sam. Oh, drek. The RV sinks, then begins to flip. Without any way to anchor himself, Ace tucks the Lancer against his chest, and tucks as he rolls forward, trying to keep as much space between himself and the oven he had previously moved as possible. Luckily, he's able to avoid being smashed by it. Unfortunately, Ace hits the passenger side wall hard, snapping his head backward. Yep, that'll take a second before his cyber-eyes re-calibrate.
This is not good, he thinks as the RV skids to a stop.
-
As Chino starts sprinting towards the spirit, the world goes sideways. And not like high on BTLs sideways, but literally sideways. It only takes Chino a second to realize what happened. God damn it! The fragging autopilot crashed the car! Chino notices that his leg is smashed into one of the seats. Snarling in anger, he wrenches it free. The spirit was still floating in the middle of the RV; the insolent bastard refused to obey gravity. Chino feels his rage start to bubble, he clenches his hands as he feels power pulse through them, and he pulls himself to his feet.
He looked at the spirit again, and it started lighting things on fire. Without thinking, Chino ignores the pain going through his body and breaks into a run towards it.
-
The RV finally grinds to a halt. In the Matrix, Doc is vaguely aware that the RV is no longer on the road. Classic, Chino! But the Ford-Canada Buffalo comes with off-road suspension as a standard feature, so no reason to worry. Instead, Doc turns his attention the decker in the black cloak. The decker's agent paints over the mark left by Doc, erasing it. The decker's persona, in turn, wraps its dark cloak tightly around it, as if Doc were a cold breeze that could be warded off. Doc laughs at the notion, and lunges forward with an aggressive thrust of his scalpel.
It was a trap! Instead of soft code, Doc's fist punches a brick wall. He grabs his wrist as it twists and aches. He feels his grip weaken on his scalpel and he knows that his deck has been damaged too. He looks to his agent for a bit of good news.
<<Agent Message: Silent Device Details>>
<<Device ID: RENRAKU SENSEI>>
<<Device Rating: 3>>
<<Device Firewall: 3>>
<<Last Matrix Action: RUN SILENT>>
None of that was terribly compelling in and of itself, but Doc does wonder why none of the devices running silently seem to be slaved to their decker's Firewall. No time to linger on the question now though.
In the Bulldog, the ork in the passenger seat pops a cyberspur. Wolf, preparing for his feast, barely even registers the threat. When the strike comes, Wolf regrets his lack of attention. The blow is powerful and deep, the blade twisting sharply within Wolf's physical essence. The wound is not trivial but the damage is done. Wolf plunges forward, his powerful jaws clamping on the mage's warm, buttery-soft neck. The man behind the mage yells and tries to fire into Wolf but to no avail. The shot goes wide, leaving Wolf to his feast. The magician returns to his body with a bloody cough and a gurgle.
Inside the RV, one of the fire spirits begins skipping about, spreading flames as it goes. The malicious little imp sits on the remains of the crate that held the obelisk. The splinters burst into flame at once, turning into kindling instantly. The imp cackles as its cousin triggers a series of unfortunate events. Katsina, flat on her face, looks up just in time for the cupboards to disgorge their contents on her head. A china plate smashes her ballistic mask; she looks away reflexively, leaving the back of her head vulnerable to a cascade of dishes and glassware. They shatter on her head and she starts to bleed.
Chino, meanwhile, finds himself in a puddle of Taéngelé, a distilled hard liquor made of honey and anise usually favored by elves and the overly rich. The fire spirit touches the other end of the puddle, sending a river of fire in Chino's direction. He manages to stand before the flames reach his face, but they lick his boots and his ankles. He notices that his jumpsuit is on fire. He can't feel it for now but he knows that the fire is just going to keep traveling up his alcohol-infused clothing until he can stop it.
As the RV comes to its final resting place, the roto-drone races the front. It hover in front of the windshield like an fat bumblebee, then spits a short burst through the windshield at Sam. The windshield shatters easily and Sam, on his side and constrained by the dashboard and the deployed airbag, is helpless to dodge. The bullets rip through the airbag and into Sam. He involuntarily coughs at the impact but feels nothing more. He's certain that he's been hit but his damage compensators have negated the pain. In a rage, tries to stand before an invisible force takes his feet out from underneath him. Sam brings up his XM30 and hammers on the trigger, sending a long burst through every vital point of the drone. It disintegrates in an instant, then explodes in a shower of metal debris. Somewhere, a rigger's brain does the same.
-
Frustrated by the opposing agent painting over his mark, Doc doubles his effort to try and stay a step ahead of the other decker... And falls for the classic maneuver. As he goes to inscribe his marks again, he drags his scalpel along a hardened firewall, sending streaks of pain back up his arm. In his frustration he snarls to his own agent, <<<@agent[Doc] Protect the deck! Keep it clean of any marks.
-
Ace looks up to see the fire spirit skip past him gleefully, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. In the background, he sees Chino's clothes catch fire, and it appears as though he's been covered in some sort of viscous fluid. Shit, shit, shit! Ace curses to himself. He looks up at the sink, now at the top of the RV, and an idea strikes him.
Ace leaps to his feet, and activates his hydraulic jacks in one fluid motion, catapulting himself to the sink, where Ace uses one swipe of his cyber spurs to separate the sink faucet from its housing, sending water spraying the interior of the Buffalo. Upon landing, Ace crouches low, and searches for the rifle the crew had taken from the poachers.
-
After a quick look around the metal conveyance Wolf had found himself in, he locates the unconscious body of the projecting mage.
You've left your meat suit unattended, fleshling Wolf thinks to himself gleefully. As he prepares to attack, he feels a sharp pain throughout his being. That pesky ork again, this time with a more substantial blow. Wolf is momentarily impressed that the mundane had the honor to drop his noisemaker and use a more elegant weapon, but Wolf's rage quickly replaces that.
Insolent speck! I will end you!
Wolf almost breaks off his attack on the mage to teach the ork not to interfere with a spirit the likes of Wolf, but his rational "mind" cautions him. The mage is still the bigger threat, and so long as you waste your efforts fruitlessly attacking me, you are not attacking those I am honor bound to protect.
He snarls, using the primal gesture to focus and overcome the spidering disruption of his form, and his ears perk as he increases his awareness of the other potential threats in the enclosed space - he'll not make the same mistake twice. He rewards his self control with a soft morsel of flesh from the mage, followed by the warm spray of blood as the mage's tissue yields to Wolf's powerful claws. The man behind the mage screams in anger and shoots at Wolf with his weapon, but Wolf ducks his head and hunches his body to dodge the blast, causing it to go wide. His teeth were still sunk in to the throat of the mage and the shift pulls the mage forward into a doubled over slump. The mage's astral form screams out and returns to the limp body. With a gurgle, the mage's body begins to stir.
Squirm, little one. It'll make the kill that much sweeter.
-
The fireball hadn't scared Sam or even startled him in the least. Neither had the near lethal crash; Sam had almost seen it happening in slow motion from his vantage point near the large front windshield and had managed to stay calm and collected throughout its entirety. His blood was ice cold considering the horribly dangerous circumstances he finds himself in ay the moment; outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and outgunned. In fact, he's already contemplating where he would attempt to enter the bulldog so as to cause the least damage. After all, we'll need it to transport the obelisk after we've eliminated the occupants.
That's when the airbag goes off and scares the everloving shit out of him. His brain was simply NOT prepared for something at that range moving at that speed, and it got RIGHT past all his psychological defenses, tapping into a primal well of terror that is matched in its intensity only by its brevity. A quarter of a heartbeat later, his brain registers what happened and his fear is instantly replaced by rage. Perhaps the rage masks his shame at having had the piss literally scared out of him and perhaps it stems from having gone totally blank and planless in an instant; pure survival instinct taking over, but no matter. An instant later, he sees the form of the rotodrone again, blurred behind the airbag, then hears the sound of it's weapon firing at him, tearing through the airbag and hitting him. He can feel two solid hits in his chest, but the jacket stops both of them. Perhaps slows is the better word as, if he survives the day, he'll have some serious welts to remember it by.
While tearing himself free from the restraints of his seatbelt and the now tattered airbag, a stream of obscenities begins erupting out of his mouth with such volume that they can be heard even above the commotion inside the RV. As he screams and shouts, he walks backward toward the obelisk and fires a six round burst out the shattered windshield. After two rounds of said burst, he trips over Chino's ankle and falls flat on his rather massive ass, still firing. Remarkably, his aim is on point despite his rage and he utterly shreds the little drone, dropping it in chunks into the snow.
He still has not stopped screaming obscenities. The monologue so far, has been, "Nu, vy, syny shlyukh ! Otzyvy kroshechnyye penisa dronov i vashi mochu pit' trus masterov ! Privedite vse bol', kotoruyu vy sobaka lokhi mogut sobrat' i ubit' menya bystro, prezhde chem ya prinesu vsyu etu goru vniz na vsekh nas! !"
-
Katsina looks up at just the right or just the wrong moment, she's not sure. She take a dinnerware plate to the face, although her ballistic mask saves her from the impact. She looks down reflexively, not wanting to take any more dishes to the face but not thinking fast enough to realize that looking down means she has to take them to the back of her head instead. There's a wave of plates, bowls, and glassware that cascades down on her, shattering from the fall and cutting her scalp. Blood begins to seep into her dark hair.
On the astral, a spirit tries to curb stomp her when she's down. She thinks no, but the spirit's foot keeps coming for her face. She's woozy and she knows it, and would not endure another blow very well, so thinks no again more forcefully, steeling her will against the assault. The foot bounces off her face, leaving her unharmed, or at least no more harmed than she already was.
Ace's quick thinking impresses Katsina. With one easy jump he's broken off the sink faucet and sent a spray of water in every direction. The fire spirits rear back, sizzling and spitting and hissing as the water turns to steam when it hits their auras. They look more angry and alarmed than harmed, but it's a step in the right direction. Katsina looks up and sees the fire extinguisher clamped on the wall next to where the stove used to be before Ace relocated it and then the crash relocated it again. She casts a spell to pull the pin, which breaks the tamper seal, then mentally squeezes the handle. The extinguisher isn't pointed in the right direction and sends a cloud of dry-chemical powder down on Katsina. The woman in black is now coated in white.
Outside, the Bulldog driver, undistracted by the threat of crashing, can now turn his attention to the hellspawn beast that's in the back seat tearing up the mage and sending spouts of blood everywhere. The driver pulls a taser off a holster on his thigh and turns around in his seat. He fires at Wolf but the shot is poor. The spirit turns and gives him a bloody, toothy grin. But suddenly there's a painful lash at Wolf's back. This was not a bullet, nor a blade. Wolf can sense the mage that just assaulted him; he's a large fellow, standing outside near the meatwagon. Very well. His present victim is a suitable appetizer, the ork shall be a substantial entree, and this combat mage outside can be a satisfying dessert.
-
As he's running, Chino catches a glimpse of his sleeve. It seemed to be on fire. Oh drek. That's going to hurt in a second. He briefly thinks about stopping and putting out the flame, but before he can decide, he's treated to a nice cold shower. He notices that it doesn't quite put out the flames, but the spirit roars in fury. That's it, deal with the fragger while he's distracted, I'll deal with my clothes later.
He continues his sprint towards the spirit, but is slightly distracted as white foam flies towards Katsina. Chino stares incredulously for a moment, before turning back to the spirit, which was looking for a target to unleash it's fury. Chino smiles and moves to intercept.
-
There is a mighty duel in the Matrix. Doc lunges, Little Black Riding Hood parries. Doc circles for position, the cloaked decker flies off the ground to avoid and disorient him. The decker keeps her cloack wrapped tight around her; the scalpel can find no purchase. Finally, Doc feigns a retreat, only to throw his scalpel violently for the blank space under the hood. The decker tries to raise an arm, and very nearly succeeds, but the scalpel drives straight into her head. She sinks to her knees, the persona icon pixelating as the deck fries and sizzles. The decker flops forward, deres'ing, and her agent disappears too. In the meat world, the decker sits up and vomits violently, blood trickling out of her nose and ears. Wolf grins smugly at the sight of another wounded and bleeding meatthing.
A glint of light catches Wolf's eye. Its the beefy meatthing winding up for another punch with its fist-claw. That thing hurts, Wolf can attest, so he squeezes sideways at the last moment to avoid the strike. The blow is a glancing one but ultimately harmless. Wolf smirks, proud of how he has singlehandedly occupied five of the vulgar pursuers.
In the RV, the flaming imp leaves its perch on the burning remains of the obelisk's crate. It flips Ace the bird, then disappears into the astral, where it turns its attention to Katsina and Ohanzee.
-
Ohanzee knows that Wolf is taking a beating. Wolf is too proud to admit it, but the fight may be too much for him to handle. But the thrill of the kill, and the thrill of he fight itself, suffuses Wolf, and short of sending Wolf back to the metaplane from which he was summoned, it was unlikely that Wolf would take direction on how best to carry out his task. I could command him, Ohanzee thought. But he knew that that carried the risk of angering the spirit, and if that happened, Wolf could be unruly, willfully misconstruing the shaman's commands to disastrous result.
No, best to let him fight it his way. But he needs help, badly. And everybody was caught up in their own battles and couldn't come to his aid without risking their own misfortune. And the seatbelt stubbornly refused to open so that he could escape the fire.
Then, somehow, the tide of the battle shifted. Water poured from the ceiling - no, that wasn't right. It came from above, what had previously been the driver's side of the RV. And it began to subdue the flames. With a loud bark from his weapon, Sam - cursing loudly the whole while, ever since the RV had capsized - eliminated the drone, freeing him up to help with the spirits. But then one of the materialized spirits retreated to the Astral, freeing Sam up to ... what? Three of the spirits were a problem that only he and Katsina and Chino could deal with, and the materialized fourth spirit Chino and Ace were already engaging. As large as Sam and Chino both were, it seemed more dangerous to have them double up on a single spirit.
Ace had a weapon that Ohanzee was sure would cause a spirit pause. He wondered why Ace hadn't used that during the fight with the helicopter last night (well, this morning if you are being pedantic), but decided that now wasn't the time for that line of inquiry. But between him and Chino, the only spirit Sam could help with was pretty much handled. Or as handled as it could be.
He was about to ask Sam to assist Wolf - Mage, meet the troll you fireballed face to face - when the spirit fighting him attacked and very nearly connected. He returned his focus to the spirit, Wolf's dilemma temporarily set aside. Besides, Sam was more than capable of wreaking havoc without direction.
A bull in a China shop's got nothing on a pissed off troll.
-
His rage having reached epic levels, Doc abandons the idea of marking the enemy decker and simply thrusts his scalpel into the persona. He's almost surprised at the effectiveness of this tactic, but great up for it. With the two pesonae gone from the area, he hunts for more targets. Lacking better tactical data, he simple goes for the most complex devices first. There is a PAN attached to a Hermes Ikon and he quickly inscribed a mark on it while his agent gathers more information. It reveals a much less target rich environment than he hoped for, but it's a start.
-
As he begins to pick up speed, the spirit turns and focuses it's attention on him. Chino grins widely and stares straight at the Fire Spirit as he continues his charge.
The spirit shifts and a streak of fire comes lashing towards Chino. He swiftly doges to the right as flaming lance after flaming lance follow him. Staying just outside of the spirit's attacks, Chino begins running across the ceiling of the car. An ethereal set of claws emerge from his fists as the rush of adrenaline fuels Chino forward. After feinting to the right, the spirit immediately sets up a shot directed straight at him. Chino mentally lets his grip go on the wall, and he rolls down landing right next to the spirit. He looks up at the spirit, a mad glint in his eye.
"Gotcha."
He thrusts his ethereal claws into the center mass of the spirit. It writhes in pain for a few moments, letting out an unearthly shriek that pierces into Chino's mind. It starts to shrink, but then quickly expands and explodes into a burst of flame around Chino. He yells in pain as the searing heat digs into his arm and shoulder. It feels like an eternity, but Chino manages to pull himself away, the sleeve completely burnt away to reveal his arm. A brilliant red arm that hurts like hell. Drek! He sees Katsina and Ohanzee, both of whom were engaged in combat on the Astral Plane. He couldn't see what was going on, but they seemed to be losing.
He tries to stand up, but stumbles in pain. Looking down, he realizes his shirt is still on fire. It had been an interesting few seconds, and Chino hazily wondered how he would survive the next few more.
-
The action is frantic. Doc, unrivaled in the Matrix, has his way with a Hermes Ikon. He nips the ears off the persona like a modern day Jack the Ripper, pocketing the fragmented code as keepsakes. En garde. The agent puzzles through the persona's pockets, looking for linked devices, only to find slim pickings. It moves on.
Inside the Bulldog, there is a frantic effort to eradicate Wolf. The man behind the mage shoots desperately, plugging Wolf with a painful high-caliber round from a hand cannon. Wolf looks up and decides that the arm holding the gun would be delicious. Then, from behind, another stab from the cyberspur. This hurts, Wolf cannot deny it. The spirit grows sluggish as its physical form begins to fray. Wolf decides it would be best to get on with it, and leans forward to close his jaws on the mage's neck once and for all. Just as Wolf's teeth touch, there's a snap and a pop of electricity from behind. Taser darts. Wolf momentarily wonders if this is it. The crackle along Wolf spine is more massaging than menacing. Wolf smiles, unfazed. He finishes his task, crushing the mage's windpipe and then twisting. There's a shower of red and then its time to go.
Astrally, the scenario changes instantly. Katsina had been parrying blows on the astral with a spirit, the two of them locked in a stalement. Ohanzee looks up at the small spirit tormenting him, wondering if he'll ever find the upper hand or even a way out of this seatbelt harness. But then poof, the two spirits are gone! Freed from the constraints of the summoning magician, recently deceased, the spirits decide that the metaplanes are much more accommodating than this foul world where they are forced to fight. They blink out of existence, leaving only one spirit remaining.
The materialized fire spirit sees Chino, knows what he's about. The dual-natured entity is under no illusions about what Chino's fists and feet are capable of. It defends itself with a jet of flame, which Chino avoids by jumping to the wall. There's another flame projectile, which Chino escapes by running to the ceiling, and then another, which Chino avoids with a torque and a twist, landing directly in front of the spirit and then punching a hole straight through it.
The fire spirit screeches, then explodes. Chino throws an arm up in front of his face as the remains of the spirit rain down on him and his surroundings. Ace's improvised sprinkler system is keeping the conflagration from expanding rapidly, but that doesn't mean that Chino isn't on fire. He is; he most definitely is.
Ace, aware that any delay might give away the advantage, is gone in a flash. He shoulders his way through the exit hatch, lucky that the hatch had been built to CAMA (Canadian-American Metahuman Act) standards. Since a troll could fit through, the much smaller Ace could jam through as easily as a door. Suddenly he's outside and reminded immediately of the cold. A few steps later he's at the end of the Bison and raising his Lancer. His target, unaware, is a sitting duck. Ace squeezes the trigger, sending a concentrated beam of energy straight into the man's back. It fries the man's armor, straight down to the skin underneath. A nasty burn erupts. Ace can feel the victory closing in, or will the situation reverse again?
-
Ace knows better than to celebrate at his well-placed shot, but it's a gratifying feeling nonetheless. The way the big ork's back arches, the twist of his head, these are signs of pain and panic, and it's good to not be on the receiving end for once today. Then, Ace is immediately returned to the defensive. He feels eyes on him, and then a sharp pain somewhere deep in his head. For a moment, he can't see, as the pain is literally blinding, but he can at least hear a grenade landing behind him, and to his left. Ace blinks hard once, and re-focuses his Lancer on the troll. Allow me, he thinks, and pulls the trigger once as he moves across the rear-end of the RV, and crouches behind the snowmobile. Ace sees the shot go wide, and curses himself. Simply throwing rounds downrange isn't going to work against this crew.
-
Ohanzee feels a surge of pride bleeding over his link to Wolf as the spirit ends the mage. The two damaged spirits turn tail and run, returning to their home plane. He's relieved that Wolf is seeking cover - he was just about to release him from service in order to try to save him. Though Wolf would not die, being disrupted was a very unpleasant experience for spirits and allowing them to get disrupted too often resulted in a stigma among spirits, making them reticent at best. Considering the cool welcome he had received from most of the spirits he'd summoned so far, he wonders what sort of a master he was before his amnesia.
But at least they still heeded his call. And Wolf was safe for the time being. Well, safer. Ohanzee turned his attention to the remaining spirit in the Astral and looked for an opening to strike. Chino, fists glowing like a 1000 lumen lantern on the Astral raced down the corridor of the RV, running along the wall-become-floor, then like in Ohanzee's dream, along the vertical surface of what was once the ceiling but now served as a wall. The spirit tried valiantly to defend itself, but the leaping ork obliterated it with a titanic strike. But Fire spirits are made of fire - well, actually, they are made of ectoplasm that looks and acts like fire, but the distinction is moot in practice - and touching it, even with a magical fist, is a recipe for pain. Chino is bathed in the disintegrating body of the spirit and his aura flares with agony.
But that is one spirit down. If they could eliminate the last spirit - and put out the fire - then the RV would be a safe enough haven that Ohanzee could start healing the team, starting with Chino. The exploding fire spirit provides the opening that Ohanzee was waiting for and he strikes, but he's too slow - the disorientation from the crash and the trouble caused by his wounds cause him to just miss the spirit. But he hopes that it provides enough of a distraction that Katsina can finish it off.
But she doesn't. Instead she casts a spell - Ohanzee sees it very clearly on the Astral - not at the spirit, but at Sam. And not a heal or any sort of boon, but a manipulation spell. Ohanzee could control the thoughts of others with magic, so he knew the stigma attached to such an act. The spell Katsina used was similar, but not as potent, but she was using it on a teammate! In the middle of the fight, Ohanzee had what he hoped were bigger things to worry about, but he would be keeping an eye on her, and certainly not turning his back to her until they'd had a chance to get this sorted and she could explain herself. She sent Sam to assist Ace, so that was at least what appeared to be a benign use of the spell, and so he was giving her a cautious benefit of the doubt for now. Though as the details settled in a more paranoid corner of his mind, he realized that her and Ace had been rather chummy of late, and were the sole remnants of Red Team, meaning that helping Ace might not necessarily be helping Chino, Sam, and Ohanzee.
He fought to clear those thoughts from his mind and focus on the fight at hand, but he "watched" the scene unfolding outside the RV with interest through Wolf's eyes. Watching for backstabbing on two fronts - what a life I lead.
-
Katsina has not yet risen from the place where she fell when the RV crashed. The scene is chaos, especially at floor-level where she finds herself. The floor is covered with shattered glass and porcelain, both from the contents of the cupboards and from the windows that broke when the RV tipped on its side. The obelisk has broken through its crate and formed a massive impact crater from where it slammed into the RV's side, now floor. The crate itself is burning, as is some of the carpet on the walls. Ace's improvised sprinkler system is helping to keep the fire from spreading but there are still thick curls of steam and smoke tracking along the ceiling. The oven Ace pulled away from the wall has landed in the middle of the wall, shattering cabinets and destroying their contents. The cooler that Katsina had packed with food from the team's temporary home has broken open and spilled its contents everywhere. Frozen food slowly thaws next to burning pools of alcohol, with blood transfusion packs littered in between. Added to all this is the fact that Chino's on fire, Ohanzee is trapped by his seatbelt harness, Doc is a limp ragdoll on the dinette set, and there's a spirit on the astral that's doing its best to kick Katsina's teeth in while she's down. It plants a swift kick to her face; her head snaps back on the physical world.
Katsina spins her head for help. Ace is already outside, engaging the pursuers on his own. He's buying us time, she thinks to herself. But out there he's the only target. They'll concentrate all their fire on him. Her heart lurches. What happened to APB could happen to Ace, and if that comes to pass then she'll be the only one left from Red Team.
A big boot comes down in the glass next to her face. It's Sam! But instead of running outside to draw fire or open a new flank, he's carrying his bomb! Her stomach drops, her eyes go wide, her throat tightens. "Sam, put down the bomb and go help Ace!" she yells, with more panic that she'd like to admit. The words sound shrill, even to her. They take on weight in the astral, slamming into Sam. The wisps sneak in through his ears and swirl around his mind, coloring it with Katsina's signature. Katsina looks back to Ohanzee with guilt in her aura, hoping that the dwarf will understand.
Sam obliges. While Chino is liberally applying the dry-chemical fire extinguisher to himself, Sam drops the bomb and breaks into a run. The troll's augmented muscles launch him out of the RV at record speed. In a second he's sprinted through a cloud of gas to reach Ace's side next to the flipped Patrol Snowski, his XM30 in firing position. Sam triggers the underbarrel launcher, sending a grenade streaking for the windshield of the Tata Hotspur. It's a direct hit, smack in the middle. The grenade explodes instantly, shattering the windshield and throwing shrapnel in every direction.
In the Bulldog, the ork samurai recognizes the minigrenade and feels the sting from where an earlier one hit him. The ork hammers on the trigger of his HK 227, sending a spray of explosive ammo in Sam's direction. One round wings the troll, exploding and leaving a scorch mark, but does no harm. The driver of the Bulldog, exposed to a man with a laser rifle and a troll with a grenade launcher, decides that re-positioning himself would be in his best interests. He slams on the gas, swerving in a vain attempt to hit Wolf, before coming to a stop toward the front of the tipped RV, blocking Ace's and Sam's lines of sight. Wolf disappears over the edge of the road, safe for now.
-
Blissfully unaware of what's going on in the physical world, Doc just sees the personae moving and shifting. Obvlivious to the fact that he's been sent careening, although gently, across the RV to land safely in the midst of a burning wreckage. Life in the matrix is however happening at an even more frenetic pace than the blinding speeds of the events in the meat. Having removed the decker from the playing field and identified a possible threat on the physical field and marked it, Doc throws his scalpel with his usual accuracy and burries it deep in the targets chest.
Taking a small portion of a second, Doc lets the team know what's going on <<<@Team[Doc] Decker crashed; Rigger gone?; Working on Street Sam now.>>>
Dismayed that he didn't destroy the commlink on the first go, he knows he's going to have to finish that off before he takes out the subsystems. He feels almost as if he's moving too slowly, things are taking too long. Doc begins to worry about things in the meat world, but he still sees everyones icons active. Ace and Sam have moved away from the RV, so they must have come to a stop. Ohanzee and Katsina seem to be in more or less the same spot, though Chino has been dancing around inside. And as fast as they are, they all seem to be moving in slow motion.
-
And in blink, Doc has crashed the Street Sam's commlink. With that gone, it opens the door for his agent who goes in and starts putting marks on all of the guns and ejecting the clips. In the meat, the ork in the passenger seat of the GMC notices the clip for his Ares Predator V fall to the ground.
-
Wolf floats over the emptiness beyond the road's edge, just high enough to peek over the side of the road. A direct engagement like before would not end well for him. The risk had been worth it before in order to eliminate the threat posed by the mage, and he had not expected the resistance within the meat-things' conveyance to be as strong as it was. But now he knew what to expect, and he had to play it more carefully.
The best option for protecting the beings that the shaman had bade him to would be to remove as many of the enemy from the field of battle as possible, as quickly as possible. In his condition, a frontal assault would fail - as much as it pained Wolf to admit this limitation. But he had seen enough of how the conveyances worked to know that there was one meat-bag that controlled it, and his link with his summoner had allowed him to determine which one that was. If he were coerced into leaving the area, he would take his transportation contraption and its occupants with him. This was a sound plan, Wolf deemed.
But that insolent ork still had to be punished. The vehicle would take him with it. That would not do. No, first the hunter must separate his prey from the herd. The transport's master could wait a little longer.
Wolf let forth a low growl. I come for you, mortal. I come for your blood. The words wormed their way into the ork's mind, filling him with the certainty that his demise was imminent, and oh so very messy. Flee! Flee, that you might live to see another dawn! The ork fled, tearing himself from his seatbelt and tumbling out the door of the Bulldog, paying no heed to the other dangers present, screaming as he went, crying as he strived to put as much distance as he could between himself and the vengeful spirit.
Wolf smiled. The hunt begins.
-
Through the red haze of fury clouding his mind at the moment, only one coherent thought manages to keep itself clear in purpose and intent.
If we are to die here, we are taking this fucking box with us.
The battered troll rises to his feet and, oblivious to the chaos erupting all around him, begins stomping angrily toward the broken and rickety crate containing the semi-exposed obelisk. He no longer cares about revenge on the Johnson, discovering who he was, what led him to this point, or even what this colossal ball of ancient magical bullshit IS. He just wants it gone from this world. As his rage and single-mindedness carry him through the burning and sideways RV filled with panicked murderers and surrounded by the sounds of gunfire, he plunges his hand into his bag to remove the item he knows will do just that. Ochen' skoro teper' , my vse sobirayemsya , chtoby uznat' otvety na ochen' mnogikh tayn !
He's mere feet from the obelisk, just about to activate the powerful electromagnets that will secure it in place and begin the timer, when suddenly, his mind shifts gears. In a flash, the rage is gone, as is his immediate desire to destroy the obelisk. Put down the bomb and go help Ace. Wha- Instead, his (presumed) years of military training kicks in, and he realizes two very important things. Are you sure that- One, that there's a very good chance of them making it out of this alive; and Two, the fact that Ace had run outside by himself a moment ago and the sounds of gunfire had increased significantly at that moment. But-He will need fire support if the group is to survive.
Readying his rifle, he quickly moves to the rear exit of the RV and with no time to check his targets, simply steps out and sweeps the rifle in an arc, firing on the first large target that comes into his field of view. Something is-In this case, the Hotspur that was running interference for the enemy finds itself in the reticule. At the same moment, he sees the troll spot him and begin to raise his weapon. Is this really-Literally lacking the time to send the mental order to detonate, his pulls the trigger on default mode, sending the pill off into the air and erupting with a CRASH directly on the windshield of the unfortunate little car. He doesn't have time to take stock on what kind of damage he may have done, instead moving backward along the eastern edge of the RV and rattling off a six-round-burst to cover his retreat as he does.What is going- More than a few of the APDS rounds find their way through the enemy trolls armor, and from the bloodspray and gurgling noise that come out of him as he falls, Sam won't be surprised if he doesn't get back up.
-
Ace sees Sam emerge from his left, and fire a quick burst which drops the troll down by the Hotspur. Thank Ghost, he thinks, before the GMC Bulldog drives past on his right. Thinking their last chance for a ride is making off, Ace abandons cover, and pumps his jacks along the undercarriage of the RV, training his Lancer on where the back of the driver's head should be when he clears the open door. The Bulldog comes to a stop, and when Ace can finally pull off his shot, he's face-to-face with an assault rifle, an Alpha if Ace had to hazard a guess, and it makes off with a quick burst. He momentarily slows, swivels his rifle to the gunman, and misses. For a moment, Ace doesn't know if he's hit himself, but the picture inside the Bulldog takes additional form; a troll is readying a shotgun, and the ork is running away from the passenger seat. This is not good.
Ace curses himself for acting so hastily, and begins to retreat, readying another PowerCell pack.
-
Ohanzee relaxes as the final spirit dissipates. The inside of the RV has a moment's respite and Ohanzee takes stock of his situation.
The seatbelt is stuck. The jarring force from the RV overturning caused too much strain on the latching mechanism and it twisted into non-functionality, trapping the tongue in the latch. And me without a knife. He could shoot the mechanism, but the shot would be obnoxiously loud in the confines of the RV. And the APDS round would likely melt the the think into slag and still keep on going. And he had so few.
Katsina had a blade that would easily slice through the harness, though as large as it was, that thought gave him pause. She looked skilled enough in its use, but considering what she had just done to Sam, that might not necessarily be a good thing. Her aura had shown guilt over the act, but that could be interpreted in a number of ways - perhaps it was simply guilt of being caught.
Chino also didn't have a blade, but Ohanzee suspected that that might not present a problem for the ork. He seemed to be looking his way, probably counting on Ohanzee to heal him. Surely he would notice Ohanzee's plight, but it was only polite to ask. Ohanzee opens his mouth to speak when he realizes what Wolf is about to do. We need that car! he practically shouts through the link that is ever-present between the shaman and the spirit.
---------
Outside, Wolf growled in annoyance at Ohanzee's message. He was honor bound to protect the group, and while the short term needs were really all he would normally concern himself with, sacrificing their long-term survival for a short term gain would not reflect well on a master hunter like Wolf. He briefly considered sneaking up on the enemy mage and ending him like he did the other one - his ability to harm him using Astral energies was a complication he could not ignore - but the mechanical man seemed to be drawing a considerable amount of attention from the other enemies, most specifically the large one readying an attack as Wolf watched. Perhaps if he could buy the metal man some time, the ally his summoner had seen leave the RV, the glamoured one, would arrive and help vanquish the enemy.
Your weapons are but toys to me, feeble one. There will be no victory for you today, only the rending of your flesh from your bones. The words carried an ancient and terrible weight, and found their mark deep within the most primitive corners of the troll's mind. He all but dropped his weapon in panic, and the large metal box on wheels shifted and rose as he exited it in haste, following after the ork. Wolf watched after him briefly, enjoying the sight of his enemy fleeing before him, and then he turned his eyes to the mage and noted with cold calculation that the mage was blind to the Astral realm.
-
Instinct is telling him that ace probably went the other way around the wreckage to maintain line of fire on the GMC. If he's still alive, he'll need help to stop it. Sam's plan had been to reach the corner of the opposite side, then spin around using it as cover and splatter the drivers brains all over the dashboard with one well placed shot. However, as he neared the corner, he could hear panicked footsteps and heavy breathing from around it. You know this isn't- Pausing momentarily to let whoever it is cross the threshold first, he tries to keep one eye on the troll behind him. What's that mage doing back there, anyway? A split second later, a tall muscular form charges past and off into the open, a brief expression of primal terror etched on his face for the split second Sam can see it. It's the ork from earlier. He's fleeing from something. Ace maybe? No matter.
Barely taking the time to think about the action on a conscious level, he raises the rifle to his shoulder on muscle memory alone and quickly fires off a quick three round burst, striking the ork in the rear center mass with all three. Once again, the highly illegal armor piercing rounds do their job well. With a pained grunt, and a quick spray of blood and torn ballistic fabric, the ork goes down hard, face first in the snow. Sam glances back to his left again to see the tires of the GMC begin to spin briefly, hoping to gain purchase on the snowy road for a quick escape.
No!
<<@Team [Uncle Sam] Divert all attention to the Bulldog.>>
-
Still immersed in the relative calm in the Matrix compared to the chaos of the meat world, Doc and his agent notice the GMC start to pull away. In two deft moves Doc inscribes his caduceus onto the icon, and in a flash the agent moves in to take control. First, it powers off the motor causing the vehicle to stop accelerating and drift foward. Doc is sure that if the agent had been programed with any kind of personality it would be cackling now! It next goes to work on mashing the breaks and lowering all of the windows. Meanwhile, Doc starts to look around to see if he's gotten the attention of GOD yet. He's sent up enough ripples that he's beginning to become a bit conerned.
-
Relieved to not be on fire, Chino heaved a sigh of relief. He nodded in thanks to Katsina, who seemed to be ignoring him, engaged as she was in a battle of wills on the Astral Plane. He was about to turn away when a spirit suddenly materialized in front of her. It was looking straight at her, seemingly oblivious to him.
Reflexively acting, he drops the fire extinguisher and lunges forward with his fists. The ghostly claws sink into the spirit's body, tearing it into two halves. The shocked spirit dwindles to nothingness as Chino steps back, anticipating another searing burst of heat. He closes his eyes, dreading what is about to come next. A few seconds later, he warily opens his eyes. The spirit was gone, and no more pain for Chino. He smiles as he realizes that he's home free.
Katsina lifted herself up, drawing her claymore, looking around. She had a strange look on her face, and was staring at Ohanzee. Chino followed her gaze and noticed Ohanzee struggling to get out of his seatbelt. Katsina started moving forward, claymore raised. Alarmed, he steps in front of her, saying, "Wait!" He approaches Ohanzee, taking in his predicament. It quickly becomes obvious that there's no way to get him out without breaking it. Looking into Ohanzee's eyes, he says, "Just hold still a moment, I'm going to get you out of here."
Taking a deep breath, he aims for the locking mechanism. He swings his fist, connecting with the buckle. It shatters, and Ohanzee falls to the ground.
-
Katsina tenses, ready to sprint forward to meet the ork samurai with a Claymore Clothesline(TM) but is brought up short by a burst of fire from Sam's XM. Three well-placed armor-piercing rounds cut the ork down. Katsina relaxes slightly, relieved that there won't be a grenade bouncing into the RV.
She turns back to Ohanzee, watching as Chino smashes the buckle as easily as if were a dry, overbaked cookie. She sheathes her claymore to free up her hands, then grabs Ohanzee by his lapels, dragging him to his feet. She makes sure that he's steady before letting go.
She yells to be heard over the fusillade of suppressive fire outside. "Destroying the obelisk destroys the world!" she shouts, hoping to convince the people that have more non-magical sway over Sam than she does.
-
The man with the assault rifle opens up again in full auto, and Ace drops to the icy pavement, feeling his wet clothes immediately stick to the ground. His mind is racing and numb, but at least his hands are working, dropping the power cells out of his Lancer and popping a new mag in place, Ace rolls to his back, fires an errant shot at the elf nearing the Tata, and crouches behind the GMC as it temporarily pulls away, and then stops again. What the hell is going on over there?
Not knowing how much time he has, Ace stands, and begins to run toward the driver's side rear of the vehicle, mentally composing a message to Sam:
<<@Team [Ace] Sam, some suppressive fire?>>
-
Just as Doc goes to check how much attention he's drawn from GOD, he finds the answer. The image of a giant hand literally smacks Doc silly. In the real world, there is a sizling and popping sounds from under his coat, and smoke starts to escape from his cuff and collar. As GOD ejects him forcefully from the Matrix he holds his sense of self together with sheer force of will. With a doozy of a headache Doc regains consiousness with a gasp and a gurgle. Already disoriented from the sudden sensory shift he is further confused to find himself on the back of the dinette with the RV on its side. And then the fact that there is water spraying from the faucet above and parts still on fire he's even more taken aback. Seeing Katsina sheething her sword and helping Ohanzee to his feet, they look like things have settled down in the immediate area. Chino literally looks like a crispy critter and could probably use some immediate attention from the medic. Doc almost jumps out of his skin at hearing the automatic gun fire outside realizing that things are not as settled as he first thought they were. His gaze focuses and he turns his attention back to Chino.
-
Wolf focuses his attention to the troll mage, who has now moved to the smaller vehicle. The larger vehicle had caused him some consternation when it began moving - he was pleased at the short term tactical advantage, but it had been made clear that the vehicle had a longer term strategic function - but it then stopped of its own accord. This had the added advantage of silencing the projectile weapon one of the occupants had been using against Wolf's two "allies". For now, that part of the battle seemed capable of waiting for his attentions - those he was tasked to protect seemed capable of handling the situation there.
The mage was focused entirely on the physical world he occupied, and Wolf realized that with the prey blind to the Astral it provided a perfect opportunity to approach unseen. Wolf dissipated his physical form, though the trauma inflicted on it still caused his essence to roil and fray. In the Astral, he moved in a blink near the form of the mage, and then focused on reforming his physical presence as discreetly as possible.
----------
In the RV, Ohanzee could hardly react to the events going on around him. As he'd hoped, Chino had freed him from the uncooperative safety belt, but unexpectedly Katsina had helped him up, though he'd cringed away from her hand, fearing her intent. But she was fast, and his effort had failed, and he now found himself standing, and a little bewildered.
"Destroying the obelisk destroys the world!" What kind of drek was that? Ohanzee was familiar with magical artifacts, and knew that they contained vast amounts of magical energy that if released all at once could create magical disruptions kilometers in effect, if not in size. But the world? That sounded almost cultish in its scale. Perhaps it was meant for the people that had attacked them, but if so, how did she know that they were some cult and not a kill squad sent by the younger Nately? And even if she was correct in all that, how could they have such trouble getting information about a powerful magical artifact that also happened to be a religious icon of some sort? Ohanzee was certain that Katsina knew more than she was letting on, and resolved to find out what she knew. As soon as the immediate danger was past.
Ohanzee was keenly aware of how many life threatening gaps in knowledge related to Katsina he was putting on the back burner, and the little voice that was responsible for keeping him alive was all but shouting at him to rearrange his priorities, but before he could come up with a decision on whether to ignore it or not, Doc sputtered back to consciousness and sat bolt upright (no mean feat considering the awkward sprawl his body had been in), wide bloodshot eyes staring into nothingness for a brief moment before his brain fully engaged with his meat body. Ohanzee had seen that look before and was vaguely familiar with the term the denizens of the Matrix had for it - Dumpshock. It never heralded anything good, and the smoking and sparking coming from the compartment in Doc's arm where he kept his deck only confirmed Ohanzee's fears. The fact that his commlink was pushing an ARO into Ohanzee's view indicating that it's network configuration had changed due to a missing master device was redundant. We are hooped with a capital 'H'.
-
>>@Team [Ace] Sam, some suppressive fire?
Ohanzee saw that Doc was okay - okay enough to function, anyway - and that with him back he could start applying some first aid. While Ohanzee couldn't pinpoint where he knew it from, he did know that he would have to wait until Doc was done applying his mundane medicine before Ohanzee could apply his magic if they wanted to maximize the benefit. That left Ohanzee with a little time to help keep the Bulldog from escaping before he was better utilized off the battlefield. And the best way to do that would be to clear the occupants out of the vehicle. If only I had a grenade - not that I could throw it right if I did. And besides, he couldn't have the grenade go off because they needed that car to be in operating condition. But the enemy didn't know that.
So Ohanzee decided to make his own grenade. With an effort of will he brought the grenade into existence, then a person to deliver it. Oddly enough, the first person he could think of was APB, the elf woman they had lost so soon after waking. Bringing her back into the fight seemed a fitting way to honor her memory. The elf crouched low and hurried forward, Ohanzee trailing slowly behind. The spell's energies had not been channeled as gracefully as he would have liked and his focus had taken a bit of a beating.
Once he had moved to the front of the RV and found a point where he could view the Bulldog well enough, the elf stopped, stood upright, and lobbed the grenade toward the Bulldog. The device sailed in a beautiful arc, landing with a loud clink! on the floor inside the open side door of the van. The momentum of the throw carried the grenade into the far wall where it clanked again and bounced back, careening toward the front of the van, angling sharply off the roof with another loud thump before hitting the dashboard where the windshield met it, and rolling to rest in the corner farthest from the driver.
Ohanzee smiled a little through the pain he was in. There was no way any of the occupants of the van could have missed the show. He debated having it beep a countdown like the bombs in the Trids do, getting faster and faster leading up to the explosion, but decided against it. He'd seen enough real grenades (where? when?) to know that that was not the reality. He kept watch on the grenade. If that failed to have the proper effect, he could always turn it into a gas grenade and fill the interior with a lethal looking fog.
>> @Team [Ohanzee] Grenade in Bulldog is illusory
------
At the Tata, Wolf was nearly in position behind the mage, watching the prone form struggle to stand. This will be an easy kill, he thought, licking his chops. Then the struggling mage slipped and fell, striking his head against the smaller motorized wagon and the mage's aura shot through with a deep pain, brilliant in color to Wolf's senses. It took him a moment to realize that the brightly colored aura was not just a result of the strong emotion, but that the mage was actually astrally perceiving, opening himself to Wolf's attack without his needing to re-form his material body.
Welcome to dinner, Wolf growled happily, then sunk his teeth into the mage's astral form.
-
A few more heavy steps of enormous feet pounding into the snow bring Sam up even with the driver of the sputtering GMC. He hopes it's having troubles due to something Doc did before the Avalon had informed him he was offline and not due to anything mechanical. Either way, he's got no time to figure it out. With a quick mental command through the trodes in his goggles, he switches the XM30 over to single fire mode, raises the weapon to his shoulder, and in the breath of time before he pulls the trigger, he gets a message.
>>@Team [Ace] Sam, some suppressive fire?
He barely has time to think, Not enough time or ammo, before squeezing the trigger and putting a single armor piercing round directly in one side of the drivers neck and out the other side. It isn't quite a kill shot, but based on the fountain of blood he can see spraying the interior of the vehicle, he's certain it had enough of an effect to be satisfied with. He glances quickly through the mayhem around him, trying to assess any immediate threats. The gunfire is starting to die down a bit and he doesn't want to let his guard down too soon.
-
Katsina turns away from Ohanzee and Chino, then springs toward the front of the RV as if she had been shot like an arrow. She easily sidesteps the seat Ohanzee had been trapped in, then leaps over the passenger seat and out the front windshield, hitting the ground running. She pivots at the front of the RV and races into the street, disregarding cover in favor of standing and taking account of the situation outside. Counting on her (admittedly weak) Combat Sense preparation to keep her alert for surprises, she spins her head right, then left, allowing herself a personal sigh of relief when she spies Ace alive and kicking.
<<@Team [Katsina] Ace, I have your back!>>
She watches with some amusement as Ohanzee's illusion throws a grenade straight through the Bulldog's blow-out window. The troll perched on the passenger side, who looked like he might have been ready to fire on Sam, drops his weapon and flails wildly for the grenade. The troll tries to leap over the passenger seat but there's not enough clearance between the headrest and the ceiling for such a massive metahuman. He stretches his long arms out desperately but can't get a handle on the threat. The driver, meanwhile, has bigger things to worry about. Namely, Sam has just put an armor-piercing round through his throat, leaving his gasping and clutching his neck.
Katsina whips around to see the elven woman open the Tata driver's side door and slip inside. The troll on the ground attempts to get up but, weak from lead poisoning, slips on the ice and dashes his head against the pavement. It shatters one of his horns and leaves him rolling on the ground. He grabs his head, inadvertantly going astral and finding Wolf leering above him. He sticks a hand out reflexively, mentally pushing back the invisible Wolf as the spirit snarls and snaps just inches from the troll's astral face. Katsina, having just suffered a kick in the astral teeth from a decidedly smaller spirit, does not envy the troll.
-
After completely missing the elf with his Lancer, Ace curses himself. Not only is this group good, but he's been remarkably bad. He doesn't have the ammo to spare on misses, and there's a good chance none of it would've been necessary had things worked out differently with the Natelys. Ohanzee's comm burns in his memory.
>> @Ace [Ohanzee] Maybe a little heads up first next time?
Maybe a little heads up, maybe a little better planning, maybe you just don't knock out a rich corper when she's on her phone with Junior, huh?
>> @Ace [Ohanzee] Maybe a little heads up first next time?
Ace tries to clear his mind. They're still in this, and he thinks they're all still alive. He's approaching the rear of the GMC when a comm comes in from Katsina.
<<@Team [Katsina] Ace, I'll get the door!>>
Relieved to read that she's still up, Ace adjusts his pattern and approaches the GMC straight from the back. Katsina is there in a flash, palming a dagger and opening the rear passenger side door as Ace kneels between the driver's. The man with the assault rifle looks back, surprised, and tries to peel off out of Ace's view, but not fast enough. Ace pulls the trigger once, and the man is knocked flat from the power of the blast.
-
Chino turns around at the sound of sizzling and sparks. That sound is never good, and the, quite recent, memory of the spirit setting him on fire comes to his mind. He shudders as he pushes the thought away. Doc's arm seems to be producing smoke, his nose is bleeding, and his eyes are open. If he's here, that means something really bad just happened. Oh shit. As if we didn't have enough authorities chasing us, now the Matrix people have been alerted?
Chino shakes his head and sends out a quick message:
<@Team [Chino] Doc just woke up, and I think his deck is bricked. We're vulnerable on the Matrix again. I'm going wireless off.>
He quickly turns the wireless capabilities of his few devices to the off setting. He sees Doc is still a little disoriented from his experience, so he leans down and lifts him to his feet. At this rate, I might as well be a fragging nurse. The contact sends another streak of pain down his burnt arm, a sensation that Chino is getting pretty damn used to feeling.
He looks around for the medkit they had brought with them. It takes him a few moments, but he spots it on the floor, underneath the nearby seat. Hopefully he's still able to use this thing. He pulls it out and grabs the handle.
"Never mind what happened, are you able to stand on your own? Can you still work this thing?" he says, as he holds up the kit for Doc to see.
-
Keeping the rifle near his shoulder, Sam runs toward the passenger side of the GMC, noticing some sort of commotion inside as he nears it. As soon as he's near enough, he swings the door open with one hand to see another troll frantically searching around for something. Without taking the time to look for whatever it is, Sam puts another round into his back, causing another small splatter of red on the interior of the vehicle. The troll groans and attempts to retreat into the rear of the van, but he's already bleeding really bad. He doesn't have long either. It's then that Sam sees what the little bastard was looking for. A LIVE GRENADE!? It simply HAS to be one of the morons in the van who dropped one before throwing it or something. None of my team is dumb enough to throw a grenade into our escape vehicle.
>> @Team [Ohanzee] Grenade in Bulldog is illusory
Ohanzee... Sam allowed himself a tiny smile at the resourcefulness of his team leader before sending off his own messge.
<<@Team [Uncle Sam] Ohanzee, grab the Obelisk and get it over to the GMC.>>
-
The sight of the helpless troll made Wolf's mouth water, and the thrill of the impending kill allowed him to forget the pain coursing through his "body" for just a moment, enough to sink his teeth into the neck of the troll's astral form, the warm life essence rushing over his lips. The shaman had promised him prey to feast on, and had not disappointed. The wounds he had suffered were merely signs that the battle had been worthy.
Reluctantly, he released the mage's neck, and the aura of the troll faded. He still lived, barely, but he was no longer able to see the astral realm, nor be affected by its denizens. Wolf was tempted to create a form in the physical realm in order to finish his feast, but his purpose here was not yet fulfilled. The troll would have to wait. Don't die yet, tasty morsel, I prefer my meals warm.
He had passed by another creature when approaching the mage, the smell of fear and weakness nearly tearing his attention from the mage, and that smell now drew him to the occupant of the metal transport he stood outside of. In the astral realm, the physical boundaries of the vehicle posed no barrier to Wolf, and he moved through them in a blink, positioning himself behind the wounded elf as best he could in the confined space of the cabin. The odd dark spaces in the elf's aura made this a less than ideal meal for the spirit, but it damped the elation Wolf felt at the prospect of another kill only slightly.
Your technology has failed you, elf. You run, not realizing that you are already dead.
Wolf lifted his lips in a snarl as he focused on quietly forming his body in the physical world.
-
Ace gets a good look at the gunslinger just before he blasts a laser beam through the man's armor jacket, through his chest, popping the lung and then out the other side. The man is heavily tattooed, or maybe it's war paint. He looks like a local, with three feathers in his hair and streaks of red paint/ink down his nose and under his eyes. His eyes are dark and look like they've been rimmed with makeup. He coughs as his lung collapses and he roughly hits the floor. He raises his assault rifle - Ace recognizes it as a Yamaha Raiden, a significant Ares competitor - and hammers on the trigger. Ace ducks behind the Bulldog's rear door, hoping that it's not APDS ammo that might slice through and hit him. The mini-explosions and lack of penetration tell him that it's explosive ammo instead. Katsina, alert on the astral, sees the man drawing power into himself to make a better shot, but somehow it all goes horribly wrong. While he's walking his long burst from right to left, from Ace to Katsina, he catches himself in the leg with an explosive round. It erupts, severing an artery. He's dead before his finger loosens on the trigger. He slumps, the life pouring out of him onto the Bulldog's floor.
Katsina senses the danger has passed. She spins around the open door, using her augmented strength to whip a throwing knife into the back of the troll that Sam just shot. The knife narrowly misses a headrest, but manages to find the back of the troll's neck with a satisfying thunk. The troll reaches back to grab the knife, his fingers just grazing it before he loses consciousness and slumps forward. Ohanzee's grenade spills a misty smoke into the van. The driver gurgles blood with his hand over his neck to staunch the blood loss.
-
Sam pushes his way into the Bulldog. He unbuckles the unresisting driver, opens the door, then shoves him out. The small troll tumbles into the road, his hand pinned to his neck in a desperate attempt to save his life.
Ace spins and races for the Tata. He leaps for the hood, only to have the Tata's wheels spin into reverse while he's in midair. He slams into the asphalt in front of the truck as it tries to make its escape. Ace looks up and sees Wolf materialize in the truck's cabin. Wolf grins ferally, then launches himself at the limp form of the elf. There's a splash of blood, then the Tata begins fishtailing wildly. Finding no traction on the icy road, its rear tires slip and point it toward the cliff. It blasts through the guard rail, catapulting over the side and down into the dark ravine below. There's a horrific crash, then silence.
People look up and exchange glances. There's no more gunshots, no more blood-curdling screams from Wolf's victims. Instead, there's carnage. There's the silence of victory, which Katinsa breaks by grabbing the gunslinger by his ankle and pulling him out onto the street. He hits the ground with a thud, his head rolling lifelessly to the side. She bends down to examine him and his tattoos.
<<@Team [Katsina] DocWagon Platinum band on the wrist. We're on the clock.>>
-
Ace turns from the gunslinger's corpse, and pumps his jacks hard toward the Tata. He can feel the ice cracking under his feet as runs, covering the distance between the two vehicles quickly, and as he nears, he sees the elf go limp in the driver's seat. He pushes off the ground, planning to come down on the Tata's hood, where the elf will have no recourse against his cyber spur, but the driver hits reverse in time, and Ace lands on the pavement, feeling it crumble under his weight. You're not getting away that easy. He continues running, but then sees the spirit form of a wolf materialize next to the driver and cast a territorial look at Ace before sinking his teeth into the driver's neck. Ace can see wolf begin to shake his massive head before the blood obscures his vision, and the Tata weaves wildly before bursting through the guardrail and down into a gulch.
"Well, fuck me," Ace mutters.
<<@Team [Katsina] DocWagon Platinum band on the wrist. We're on the clock.>>
Ace wheels on his right foot, and begins to sprint to the RV, composing a text in reply.
<<@Team [Ace] I'll take care of the Natelys and grab what gear I can.>>
-
Ohanzee saw the others relax as the tense battle came to its end and relaxed a little himself. He dropped the illusion he was maintaining and the elf and the smoke vanished completely.
<<@Team [Katsina] DocWagon Platinum band on the wrist. We're on the clock.>>
Of course. Why would winning the fight cause our luck to change?
<<@Team [Ohanzee] Okay, let's try to be on the road in one minute. Put the Nately's commlinks in one of the bodies, clean up any forensic evidence that can be tied to us, and grab any supplies we need and pile into the Bulldog. We'll get patched up once we're moving. If it's not critical, don't waste time on it.>>
He turned back to the RV and used his magic to once again levitate the artifact that seemed to be causing them so much trouble. It took him a couple tries to get the spell to work properly, but finally the heavy metal piece was floating along through the air.
After Katsina's behavior in the preceding moments, he was having second thoughts about dismissing Sam's suggestions regarding the obelisk. Had she manipulated me, magically or otherwise? He wasn't in the proper state of mind to contemplate such things right now, but they would certainly need to be contemplated in the near future. He looked at Katsina as he hoisted the obelisk - no longer ensconced in its protective crate - into the Bulldog. He couldn't focus well enough to glean anything from her aura, and he turned his attention away before she could notice his interest. Getting into a discussion now would send Sam into a rage, and we don't have the luxury of time to deal with that. And he didn't relish the thought of being in the same van as a rampaging troll either, so the subject would have to be broached once they were off the road somewhere "safe".
He went back to the RV to take one last look around then returned to the Bulldog and maneuvered himself into a seat and shut the wireless off on all of his gear. With GOD coming to visit, it was probably best to just not be on the Matrix at all. "Going wireless off - I suggest we all do. Wrap up whatever your doing and get in the van. We're out of time."
Wolf appeared next to him in the Astral, floating weirdly half in and half out of the van, fresh blood covering his snout and paws. Thank you, brave Wolf. Your ferocity was pivotal in winning this battle. Allow me to tend to your wounds before you return to your home for a well deserved rest.
Wolf nodded his assent and Ohanzee focused his mind with a soft chant as he directed the healing magic into Wolf's body.
Your service was above and beyond that required by our agreement, and so I release you of your remaining obligations. Hunt well, fearsome Wolf.
-
Doc is still reeling from the dumpshock. Still in a bit of a daze as the last of the gunfire dies down, he realizes that the confrontation is over. Looking around he sees everyone reacting to the sitation while he's just standing around being rather useless. Ace rushes in through the broken windshield and dashes past him in a blur, and quickly dispacthes the Natelys. Arranging things in a fairly similar situation to the threats he'd made on the comm. As he come back into the room and starts gather things, Doc helps out. He realizes there's bagged plasma on the ground that came out of the cooler he thought just had food in it. Quickly stashing that back into the cooler and getting the ice packs in there to keep it from spoiling, he wonders what it's doing here and makes a mental note to ask Ace and Katsina about it once he gets a chance.
With the medkit in hand and what provisions he was able to grab they head over to the Bulldog and finds a spot where he'll be able to start seeing to peoples injuries once they get on the road.
-
Katsina leaves the gunslinger in the street, uncertain if any of his weapons would be of interest to those that know how to use them. She moves to grab the large troll bleeding copiously onto the passenger seat. Opening up the sliding door, she grabs the troll's coat to drag him out, hoping that gravity will do most of the work. Her gloved hands hit his jacket and she immediately jumps away with a yelp, shaking her hands out to clear the pain away.
<<@Team [Katsina] Don't touch the big one. He has shock frills on his coat. Feels like your bones getting turned to water.>>
On her second approach, she gingerly reaches for his ankle - exposed at the edge of his lined coat - and uses it as her grip. The sight of a medium-sided human female dragging a troll out of a Bulldog by his ankles might seem improbable, even comical, were it not for the fact that the troll is leaving behind a river of blood as a trail. Katsina dumps him in the road and hopes nobody steps on him on their way into the van.
While Ace is handling the Natelys and Ohanzee gets to work on the obelisk, Katsina turns her attention to the interior of the van. The ride is going to be uncomfortable enough without passenger-side windows to protect them from the cold. The interior of the van looks and smells rather too much like a slaughterhouse for most people's tastes. Between the gunslinger that shot himself in the artery, the two trolls that Sam plugged in the neck and the head, and the mage that Wolf tore into chunks of gore and offal, the van looks more like a slaughterhouse from The Jungle than a comfortable mode of transportation.
Undeterred, Katsina jumps in and undoes the seatbelt shackling the remains of the mage. There's not much of him left between his chin and his waist. She looks around for something to grab onto so that she can huck him outside. She tries the ankles, since it worked for the troll, but the top half separates from the bottom when she pulls, leaving her with a V of inverted legs. Sighing at the spirit's efficiently, she whips the legs outside with a plop before revisiting the torso. She awkwardly grabs the head and what she thinks is the spinal column before exiting the Bulldog to throw the remains over the cliff. When she gets back she realizes that she left the liver behind.
Back in she goes to resume her patrol on brain-and-skull detail. She scoops out the largest hunks of gunk with her gloves before slicing away the troll's shirt with her claymore and using the massive piece of fabric as a sponge to soak up the lakes of blood pooling on the downhill corners of the van. She finishes in time to see Ohanzee approaching with the obelisk. Ohanzee glances up to see the Masked Woman, dressed head-to-toe in black, covered in blood, with her fists on her hips. Ohanzee is immediately thankful that he's the only one who knows Levitate, which probably saved him from being on point for the cleaning brigade.
"I'd ask you to summon a water spirit to clean me off if I didn't think I'd freeze when the temperature drops. In the meantime, you have the seat of honor." She points to the bloody seat where the mage met his end recently. Wolf shivers with pride. Katsina grabs a few handfuls of snow and pushes them down her coat, trying to wipe off the blood somehow. She wonders if the RV has any moist towelettes.
"Maybe a spirit for Concealment next, neh?" Katsina suggests, jumping into rear seat on the driver's side, furthest from the windows and least bloody.
-
Ace dashes through the broken windshield of the RV, slinging the laser rifle behind his back. In the back room of the RV he finds the Natelys, their forms look smaller now, and the crash has mostly done them in already. "Sorry, pal, but I made a promise to your son," Ace says, advancing with a bared cyber spur.
#
After finishing with the Nately's, Ace is rummaging through the passenger-side wall, now floor, quickly scooping blood packs back into the cooler. He sees a few of them have burst, and they don't have time to properly sanitize the scene. Ace doesn't know whose blood is in those packs, but he's not happy about leaving the DNA behind, no matter whose it is. Too bad it's drenched in here. Our slash and burn policy has 'worked' so far.
Soon Doc is on the floor next to him, helping as he can, despite the dumpshock and the dazed look on his face. I'll suit up with this one any time, Ace thinks as they get the last intact pack loaded in the cooler. Ace hoists it up for Doc to carry and gives him a light pat on the back. "Go, Go!" he says, and starts immediately to gather what arms and ammo he can to stuff in his dufflbag. But time is running out too quickly, and Ace rushes to the Bulldog knowing he's left something useful behind. In his rushing, he almost forgets to pawn off Nately's commlink, but he turns back to do so, leaving it in the bottom half of . . . someone's pocket. To be honest, Ace lost track.
Outside the Bulldog, picks through the belongings of the gunslinger, tossing magazines into the open door, and then he tops off his Lancer. Not many rounds left, honestly. He wishes he could grab that Raiden, even if it is an inferior product, but he's worried that if he does, he will certainly need it by leaving a glowing data trail right to wherever it is that they're going. Instead, he sticks to the ammo, and then starts to change into his Survivalist gear.
-
Doc takes the cooler from Ace and woobles as quickly as he can towards the GMC. As he's crossing what has now become a battlefield he sees all the detritus strewn about. A thought makes its way through the haze of his consiousness, "I wonder how many of these guys were doing the equivelent of combat recording."
Raising his voice over the wind and activity of the individuals trying to control this chaos he hoarsly shouts, "We'll probably want to trash as many of these commlinks as we can, in case they were recording this whole thing, won't we? I only got two of them before I got bounced."
-
After Doc takes the medkit from his hands, Chino quickly starts gathering up his few possessions. It isn't long before Ace comes in and hastily gathers up his stuff. He glances at Ace before saying, "I assume we're on the move again. There isn't time to get the trailer moved over, it'll probably take me 4 minutes, and that's when I'm in good shape." He pauses for a moment as he passes the RV's destroyed bathroom. Our ride is probably bloodsoaked. Hmm, maybe I can wipe some of it up so it isn't too obvious. He steps in and grabs some of the towels that are strewn across the floor. Holding up a bundle of mostly dry towels, he grunts, "I'll be getting our next ride set up, if you need me."
Chino walks out the sunroof of the crashed RV and sends a command through his trodes to turn his gear's wireless on. A flurry of Matrix chatter shows up, but Chino dismisses it and waves it away. He steps into the Bulldog. Sure, the seat's covered in blood, but considering what they had already gone through, this was nothing special. As the adrenaline starts to wear off, the bitter cold starts to hit Chino. Looking at the ignition, the keys are already in. Perfect. He turns the keys and the car rumbles as it starts up.
Without realizing it, Chino starts whistling to himself as he wipes his hands on a towel and then moves around, pulling all the dead bodies out onto the road. Some of them were pretty mangled and shredded. Chino just shrugged and continued with his work. It was kind of relaxing, you know? You just need to clean out your car every once in a while.
-
"We'll probably want to trash as many of these commlinks as we can, in case they were recording this whole thing, won't we? I only got two of them before I got bounced."
Doc is near the Bulldog as he speaks, and Ohanzee hears him clearly. He replies "I'll take car of that, just get to the van.
As the team began settling in to place in the van, Ohanzee begins his focusing chant and summons another spirit, this one appearing as a young man in a flaming red jumpsuit and running shoes. The jumpsuit has a logo emblazoned on it of 5 interlocking circles, each of a different color. He is carrying an over-sized torch of some golden hued metal and lit with a large flame. Ohanzee is taken aback by the appearance of the spirit, having expected something more ... traditional. The spirit chuckles at Ohanzee's Astral expression and speaks. Hey, Omae, you wanted fast and fire. At least I still look Lakotian. The spirit did have Native American features, and even had some jewelry that looked traditional. It almost made up for the white eight pointed star in a field of red emblazoned on his shoulder indicating the Sioux Nation.
Ohanzee recovered from his shock and tasked the spirit. I need you to find and destroy the commlinks on each of the fallen that lay around us. Speed and stealth are a priority.
You got it, chummer. The spirit, running in place the whole time, focuses for a few seconds and the familiar sheen of a concealment spell covers the spirit's aura. It then moves outside the Bulldog and materializes near the closest body, focuses for another few seconds and the racing lines on the spirit's running shoes glow brightly. It then bends over and begins looking through the unfortunate metahuman's pockets, eventually finding the commlink, placing it unceremoniously on the ground and stomping it repeatedly until it is suitably pulverized before moving on to the next body. If Ohanzee didn't know better, he would assume that the spirit was enjoying itself. Perhaps he didn't know better, but it was not a topic he chose to dwell on.
The spirit was still zipping from body to body as the van drove away.
-
Ace returns from the RV with an armload of towels and blankets. He drops them in the RV and then tosses some dental floss to Katsina. She grabs a towel and spends a moment soaking up the blood on her gloves, jumpsuit, and lined coat. When she's done she holds the towel out, contemplating it for a second. She seems inclined to toss it in the road, but who knows what a forensics team might make of that. Instead she passes it to Chino so that he can clean off the driver's seat.
Chino does a quick lap around the Bulldog. The right side is scratched extensively from the detonation of Sam's frag grenade, but most of the damage was either to the paint, the windows, and the tires. The two passenger-side tires have been punctured. The good news is that they are run-flat tires. Under normal circumstances, they could be expected to run for 100+ kilometers before finally giving out. The bad news is that given the extreme load of the Bulldog (six people, including one troll, and a very heavy obelisk), they might only make it half that distance. That will get the team to Basalt or Carbondale, but not any further. Although if Ohanzee kept the Levitate spell sustained and the obelisk suspended, Chino could probably squeeze out the last miles to Glenwood Springs...
Katsina scavenges a needle out of one of the medkits. She uses the dental floss supplied by Ace to begin sewing together one of the space blankets from a medkit with one of the blankets from the RV. That will hopefully give the space blanket some structure while also providing some wind resistance to their window covering. One of the better-stocked medkits even has a medical stapler which she thinks she can use to secure the blankets around the windows. The whole process will take a while but she's off to a good start.
-
Doc sees the remaining troll cowering and trying to hide. He walks over to him and points his cyberarm shotgun at his face about to perforate it.
The troll looks up at him pleadingly, "No don't! I'll talk!"
Taken aback by the response, Doc calls for reinforcements. "HEY Ohanzee! Katsina! OVER HERE! We've got a talker.... should we take him with us, or just kill him and move on."
-
He replies "I'll take car of that, just get to the van.
Ace adds, "If you're thinking about fire, see if you can get the burst blood packs in the RV. The water tank has emptied out."
Doc sees the remaining troll cowering and trying to hide. He walks over to him and points his cyberarm shotgun at his face about to perforate it.
The troll looks up at him pleadingly, "No don't! I'll talk!"
Taken aback by the response, Doc calls for reinforcements. "HEY Ohanzee! Katsina! OVER HERE! We've got a talker.... should we take him with us, or just kill him and move on."
Ace mentally pulls up his commlink as he slips a leg through his survivalist suit, and starts to text, [color=green<<]@Doc [Ace] No names, chummer!>>[/color] before realizing he has nothing to fear. Sure, he knows he's not Ace, but as far as he's concerned, that is Ohanzee and Katsina over there. He can't remember what else to call them. He casts the message away, unsent, and fights the urge to call out to the rest of the team. Better to let Ohanzee and Katsina field this one. They know what their supplies look like better than he does, though this revelation tells Ace that this isn't a crew out for the Natelys. Otherwise, why offer information? It could be a desperate bid at survival, of course, but he doubts it.
-
Katsina looks up from her work and sighs. In the shadowrunner playbook there's the "right" answer to this question, not to say that she likes it. Looking around, there's more than enough blood and death; she has little interest in adding to the toll. Even as it is, she can feel the psychic toll of the battle beginning to wear on her. There will likely be a background count here for a few days. She hopes that mage's demise doesn't cling to the Bulldog like a bloody syrup.
She looks to Ace, who is deferring to her.
<<@Team [Katinsa] He's buying time for DocWagon to arrive. We can take him with us, but even if we trim the bracelet DocWagon will know he's missing. I don't know what their standard procedure is in that situation. I also don't know what will happen if DocWagon gets here before SecForce.>>
She looks to Ohanzee. The dwarf can see it on the astral: Katsina is concerned. But is she reserved about executing a prisoner in cold blood or is she nervous about the time? She didn't show any reservations about dispatching the hunters last night, but a lot has changed since then. Maybe she's changed, or remembered more about who she is, or wants to be. Or maybe she's concerned about what the man might say.
-
Ohanzee ponders the question. There was certainly a shortage of answers and an abundance of questions, but chances were he was trying to buy some time. If they left him, the ensuing shootout would probably be one heck of a show - with DocWagon, PCC law enforcement, and the Nately's security forces all converging on this hapless soul. His odds of survival were slim at best.
Ohanzee's face hardened. Not that he was concerned about the troll's well being. The troll and his team had come at Ohanzee and his, and they weren't pulling any punches. He'd even argue that the other team had royally hosed their comfy new ride, except for the fact that they'd already pretty much botched that in their failure to placate the younger Nately. Disturbingly, this whole scene of death and misery was little more than a minor inconvenience to their existing plans. Which meant that the plans were either really brilliant, or (more likely) borne of the worst kind of desperation where virtually anything was an improvement.
How many people were after them already? He started ticking them off: The original owners of the obelisk, the Nately's security force, chances were PCC security forces would be sniffing around after the hunters and the house, and certainly after this shootout in the early evening so close to Aspen. If Vinny discovered the fate of the hunters and their catch, then the local mob was probably interested in finding them as well. So, secret corporation, check. Local law enforcement, check. Organized crime, check again. And an unknown but powerful, likely corporate, adversary, check. The only empty box on the list was a major government, and the day was still young. And he still had no idea who these people that had just attacked them worked for.
"Ask him who he works for. If gets evasive or snarky, end him." He hadn't even finished his train of thought and the words were already out. He was already pretty sure his dreams were going to keep him from getting a decent night's rest, and so he found himself half hoping that the answer passed muster.
-
The man is propped up on one elbow, his hand on the trauma patch against his neck. He holds his other arm out to Doc, both to keep him at bay but maybe - just maybe - to have his hand or arm catch a round before his face does.
"I work for the dead guys," he says. "The troll back there" - he indicates the downed troll next to the Tata - "and the elf with all the color on his face." He means the elf who shot himself in the leg. "They're not from around here. They came into town looking for local talent on short notice. I'm just a driver, just doing what they said."
Doc can't really tell what his eyes are doing behind the sunglasses, but his tone is submissive. His whole team is dead; he doesn't want to join them.
-
Ace's internal clock is flashing red, and he can feel an old twitch in his hands. We do not have time for this. He grabs the shotgun from the back of the RV and circles around to the downed troll.
"Everybody in the RV. We leave now." He'd rather not look this man in the face right now, but if not, there's no way to tell if he's lying. Ace levels the shotgun, and speaks quickly. This either needs to happen now, and then they leave, or he's coming with them, and they leave. You have three seconds, and three words. Make 'em count, and give me something I can use. Three . . . two . . ."
-
Waste of time. He's a hired gun, with no clue who he's working for, or outright lying. Either way, he has no info we can use.
"Take the glasses, leave the corpse." Ohanzee had the distinct impression the man was recording - possibly transmitting - for a third party. If so, that's the person that needs talking to.
-
"My wife's pregnant," the man says.
His voice is more resigned than frightened, as if he had known his life might come to this. He's facing death bravely; no need to go out crying. Still, he doesn't want to die.
Doc's a bit of a space cadet. He registers the meaning of the words but can't read any truth or hear any emotion in the statement.
Ace is more in tune. He can't see the man's face, but the tonal inflections suggest he's telling the truth.
-
"Take the glasses, leave the corpse." Ohanzee says.
"My wife's pregnant," the man says.
". . . one." Ace says. He places the shot center mass, sending the man sprawling backward, and then retrieves the glasses. He hands them to Ohanzee with a quick "Sir," drops the shotgun, takes a quick pic of the elf in warpaint, and enters the back of the Bulldog.
"Go, go, go!"
Ace keeps his eyes focused out the back window, waiting for the scene to get smaller, waiting for it to disappear.
#
When the Bulldog has lurched forward, when the carnage has disappeared from view, and when Ace can no longer stand to look out the window, he strikes the side of the van. And then again, and again. His nerves are working just fine, but it's not the same. He has exactly one memory that's unclouded of the time before. One glimpse into who he was. He was waist deep in water, a lake he thinks from the feeling of pebbles against his feet. He could feel swirling against his arms as he swung them, a boy no more than eight. The air bubbles as they clung to the hairs on his arms, the feeling of water rushing past his fingers, how the sun would peek through the treetops to warm his back. No, it's not the same, he thinks as he strikes the van. And there's no blood, no trace of him there, except the crater he's pounding into the GMC, just metal against metal, one giving way to the other. He strikes again. Still no blood. Of all the mess inside, somehow he chose the one spot that's just gray and clean. There's a part of Ace that believes his malfunctioning, and another that thinks he's waking up.
When he's finished, Ace sits back, looks embarrassingly at the near-hole he's punched in their vehicle, and lets out a ragged breath. "Ok, where to now?"
-
[End of Chapter II. Chapter III thread here: http://forums.shadowruntabletop.com/index.php?topic=19674.0]