[rednblack]

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.

[Tecumseh]

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."

[rednblack]

"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.

[Zweiblumen]

"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."

[Malevolence]

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.

[8-bit]

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.

[Tecumseh]

@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.

[Poindexter]

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.

[Malevolence]

"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."

[Zweiblumen]

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.>>>

[8-bit]

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."

[Poindexter]

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.

[Malevolence]

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?”

[Zweiblumen]

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.>>>

[Tecumseh]

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.