By N.Barnes
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Call SubDir: SanFrancisco/WeBlogs>
Select Blog: Author=V.Six>
Initializing…>
Entry 14: 19.06.70>
Well we’ve managed to make our 10k basic payment and the daily reduction on the bonus has been frozen pending further instructions from our Johnson. It started with Sickle cutting on us to do a bit of private research – no biggie – Drifter turned up out of the blue so the size of the team hadn’t been affected.
Johnson’s lab report showed that the Caribou had been laced with Chloro Maganese 5/1, a chemical weapon developed and then banned during the Euro-Wars. It was created as a crowd dispersal gas and riot suppressant but was banned when they discovered that if the gas came into contact with liquid, it became a lethal chemical causing exactly the same symptoms and outcome we’d already seen evident in our dead Trolls. This stuff is serious shit and the fact that someone got hold of it suggests a well-connected, major player somewhere behind the scenes. Either way, we now knew that this stuff wasn’t just targeted at Metahumans and that cast all the evidence against Aztechnology into doubt because that had suggested the cause of death was a retro-engineered virus that would reverse the Goblinisation process.
With Johnson nagging us to find out who was behind the poisoned drinks, we started researching back up the supply chain. Caribou’s got one main distributor in the Castro district but Ki-rinn and Glyph checked out the store and the owner, Mohammed Abdul, seemed clean. In fact, he seemed as worried about the possible poisoning as we were and was all too willing to pull the infected batch from the shelves and keep them on one side pending further investigation. Next stop tracking back up the supply chain was a distribution centre down near the Mexican border and Ki-rinn soon discovered that everything, right down to the trucks, was automated and remotely operated. It was clear this was a weak link and that made it worth a trip.
From afar, we could see tracks leading away from the compound to a burnt out vehicle and Ki-rinn’s sweep of the matrix security suggested tampering and a subsequent cover up but he managed to pull up a security vid of some sort of raid. The rest of the cameras had been looped so Glyph, Drifter and Ash headed in for a closer look. My investigation of the burnt out vehicle told me little but Ash had tagged the VIN number and K soon confirmed that the vehicle belonged to Dr Manton Ford and had been reported stolen a month before. Yet more coincidences!
Suddenly, over the Comm, we hear all hell break loose in the Distribution Centre. Frosty tells me they’re under fire from a Sec Drone that isn’t tied in to the Chipecko security matrix. I guess someone has left it there to cover their tracks and then see Ki-rinn take a shot to the shoulder too.
Drek! I I-Spy a couple of rotodrones at 12oclock hot and manage to bundle Ki-rinn into the Jeep while taking evasive action. Trust me to get caught with my pants down in a stock vehicle precisely when I could do with a weapon mount! Never ride stock! I concentrate on whipping donuts and tight turns to confuse the drones and stay out of direct firing lines while Ki-rinn breaks out the battle rifle and gets busy. As flaming drone debris starts pattering down to the sand, I remote the Crew Cab and send it whistling over to Ash for a rapid evac then spot a dust trail on the horizon. Some SOB is lighting out fast and I do what I can to keep up, running parallel, cutting corners and using my off-road advantage. We soon scope that the quarry is a Red Ranger LAV though and any hope of an off-road advantage or superior speed evaporates. I paint it and we set off in pursuit. Something tells me that maybe we’ve been drawn away from the Chipecko Distribution Centre deliberately and naively taken the bait but I don’t want to let these fuckers get away!
Continues: 1/2>
|| >
Given the LAV’s speed advantage, we were about three hours behind when we finally trailed the Red Ranger to a lorry park just outside San Fran. Clever little buggers had met up with a juggernaut and flown right into the back of the trailer before driving off again. The only redeeming aspect of the whole sorry shambles was that the Security Camera Records hadn’t been tampered with and Ki-rinn was able to scope our old friend and Notable Anarchist mojo-toter Book clambering from the LAV. We could now finger the NA for the poisoned brew with some certainty. Otherwise, the trail had gone well and truly cold right there and that left us with just about one final lead – another conversation with Doc Ford to find out exactly why he was so intimately linked in with the Anarchists.
It was late but for our purposes, dropping in on the Doc right there and then seemed appropriate. Our quack and several of his high class friends were having a cocktail party and seemed disinclined to share their canapés with a bunch of grubby Shadowrunners. Mr Contacts flawless charisma paid dividends yet again – Ford sent him away with a flea in his ear and instructions to reappear at 10am if he wanted to discuss the case further.
Cheeky twat. I decided Ford had bugged us enough. It was time to bug him and the FlySpy drone I bought last week gave me the perfect opportunity.
Drifting around the party, I was surprised to find Book and his buddy from the truck stop all penguined up and quaffing champagne like specialists. I cut the rest of the team in on the feed and hung around near Ford and that patience paid dividends when he sent the rest of his homies back to their own mansions and had himself an intimate little tete a tete with the NA.
Book made out like the Juggler wanted to meet Doc Ford AGAIN and the mystery anarchist said another batch would be available within a couple of days if they wanted to start the next phase.
Seems the NA are supplying the Chloro-Manganese 5/1 and hitting the Chipecko Distribution Centre to introduce the toxin to the soda while Doc Ford is playing PR man and covering up the real cause of death with false autopsies blaming a new strain of HMHVV. Given the, now evidently falsified, evidence against Aztechnology, we can only presume that the Fraggers are up to their old tricks again, hitting and discrediting the major Corps.
Ford’s criminal soiree broke up and, again using the FlySpy, I was able to track the NA mooks, in their fragging Porsche, as they made their way home to the SF Ritz! Talk about well funded – a Red Ranger, a Porsche, at least one back up vehicle, accommodation at the Ritz, gun-toting goons aplenty and the contacts to get their grubby mitts on an internationally prohibited chemical bioweapon. Yet again, we seem to be out of our depth but this time I feel more confident that the team has my back so I’m chilly about it all.
The downside about our discoveries, especially the incontrovertible proof that Doc MF really is an MF, is that we’re now waiting on Johnson’s instructions about how we proceed. I’ve made the case that the NA are a global terrorist network and that the most we can do is take out the local cell. Johnson realises that if they’re committed to the Chipecko gig they’ll be harder to get rid of than cockroaches and he’s referring back to his superiors. Right about now, I think we’d just settle for putting a bullet in the grid of Doc Ford, Book and the rest of the SF Cell but we’ll wait on Johnson… for now.
Mood: Chilled.
Ends: 2/2>
||
Friday, July 28, 2006
The drinks are poisoned!
Six, Drifter, Ash, Glyph, Ki-Rin.
19th June 2070
Since the incident with Perfect Shooter, Drifter had headed out of town, he had some other business, but he was back in San Francisco now, and his funds were running low. He called up Snow who told him the rest of the team were mid job, so Drifter called Six. Six brought Drifter up to speed with the run they may or may not have finished, and Drifter offered his services for what they were worth.
The waited at a café for the Johnson to call them back with the lab results for the drink, and at 2pm, as promised he called them with the results. A man made compound had been added to the drink, Chloro-Manganeze 5/1, not HMHVV as everyone had expected, The Johnson told the runners that he didn’t suspect that the corporation would be adding this chemical to their own drink so told them to get on and find out who was, and then to stop them.
Ki-Rin had served in the military and had heard of Chloro-Manganeze 5/1. it was an airborne agent used as a crowd suppressor, it was very effective but when it came into contact with water it became a lethal toxin. It was banned internationally in 2021.
Drifter looked over the evidence and fingered Dr. Manton Ford as the prime suspect. The rest of the team though that was a leap to far and opted to investigate the only shop selling the drink. They found nothing suspicious but they did warn the manager to take the drinks off the shelves.
Ki-Rin had an investigation on the matrix and found that the distribution depot for this drink is fully automated and looking closely at the code for the security system seems to have been tampered. After a discussion the team decide to head out to have a look for themselves.
Not far from the depot the runners spotted a burned out vehicle and when they find the vin plate still in tact Ki-Rin runs it thought the matrix to find that the vehicle was registered to Manton Ford. It had been reported stolen but the coincidence was a bit suspect.
Heading into the building Ki-Rin disabled security drones and Drifter found 2 empty metal canisters. He took them as evidence. Another drone in the building was not disabled and was not in Ki-Rin’s control, and this drone began shooting up Drifter, two more drones outside began attacking Ki-Rin and Six.
The rigger controlling these drones was out of sight and as the fight turned in the runners favour he took off. The Red Ranger he was piloting was far faster than the runners 4x4’s and he outdistanced them and was out of sight. The runners however began to track his position via satellite, and once he had stopped they closed in.
The rigger had stopped at a truck stop, but it was nowhere to be seen. Looking back over video footage the runners saw that it had driven into the back of a truck and had then left. They did however seen that Book, one of the Notable Anarchists, was in the truck, and it was at this point that the runners began to realises that the NA’s were an incredibly well funded organisation.
The clues were running out, but Dr. Manton Ford was defiantly worth questioning. Even though it was nearly midnight the runners decided it would be time to call round.
Once the runners arrived in the AAA secured residential area, the found that Dr. Ford was having a bit of a party with some of his Human Party friends. There were industry leaders and minor politicians, all rich men with some influence.
Ash tried to gate crash but all he managed to get was an appointment to see Dr. Ford tomorrow. Six launched his flyspy drone to go and see what was going on and was stunned to see Book and another unnamed notable anarchist enjoying the party. Dr. Ford was engaged in conversation with them and Six picked up that they wanted to arrange a meet with the Juggler for early next week.
20 June 2070 05:00
When the party broke up Six tailed the two Notable Anarchists, to the SF Ritz no less. The runners were stunned with how much money was flying around these anarchists. They put a call through to Mr. Johnson and told them everything that had been seen. Mr. Johnson said that he would have to speak to his superiors and get back to them on the course of action.
Tbc…
19th June 2070
Since the incident with Perfect Shooter, Drifter had headed out of town, he had some other business, but he was back in San Francisco now, and his funds were running low. He called up Snow who told him the rest of the team were mid job, so Drifter called Six. Six brought Drifter up to speed with the run they may or may not have finished, and Drifter offered his services for what they were worth.
The waited at a café for the Johnson to call them back with the lab results for the drink, and at 2pm, as promised he called them with the results. A man made compound had been added to the drink, Chloro-Manganeze 5/1, not HMHVV as everyone had expected, The Johnson told the runners that he didn’t suspect that the corporation would be adding this chemical to their own drink so told them to get on and find out who was, and then to stop them.
Ki-Rin had served in the military and had heard of Chloro-Manganeze 5/1. it was an airborne agent used as a crowd suppressor, it was very effective but when it came into contact with water it became a lethal toxin. It was banned internationally in 2021.
Drifter looked over the evidence and fingered Dr. Manton Ford as the prime suspect. The rest of the team though that was a leap to far and opted to investigate the only shop selling the drink. They found nothing suspicious but they did warn the manager to take the drinks off the shelves.
Ki-Rin had an investigation on the matrix and found that the distribution depot for this drink is fully automated and looking closely at the code for the security system seems to have been tampered. After a discussion the team decide to head out to have a look for themselves.
Not far from the depot the runners spotted a burned out vehicle and when they find the vin plate still in tact Ki-Rin runs it thought the matrix to find that the vehicle was registered to Manton Ford. It had been reported stolen but the coincidence was a bit suspect.
Heading into the building Ki-Rin disabled security drones and Drifter found 2 empty metal canisters. He took them as evidence. Another drone in the building was not disabled and was not in Ki-Rin’s control, and this drone began shooting up Drifter, two more drones outside began attacking Ki-Rin and Six.
The rigger controlling these drones was out of sight and as the fight turned in the runners favour he took off. The Red Ranger he was piloting was far faster than the runners 4x4’s and he outdistanced them and was out of sight. The runners however began to track his position via satellite, and once he had stopped they closed in.
The rigger had stopped at a truck stop, but it was nowhere to be seen. Looking back over video footage the runners saw that it had driven into the back of a truck and had then left. They did however seen that Book, one of the Notable Anarchists, was in the truck, and it was at this point that the runners began to realises that the NA’s were an incredibly well funded organisation.
The clues were running out, but Dr. Manton Ford was defiantly worth questioning. Even though it was nearly midnight the runners decided it would be time to call round.
Once the runners arrived in the AAA secured residential area, the found that Dr. Ford was having a bit of a party with some of his Human Party friends. There were industry leaders and minor politicians, all rich men with some influence.
Ash tried to gate crash but all he managed to get was an appointment to see Dr. Ford tomorrow. Six launched his flyspy drone to go and see what was going on and was stunned to see Book and another unnamed notable anarchist enjoying the party. Dr. Ford was engaged in conversation with them and Six picked up that they wanted to arrange a meet with the Juggler for early next week.
20 June 2070 05:00
When the party broke up Six tailed the two Notable Anarchists, to the SF Ritz no less. The runners were stunned with how much money was flying around these anarchists. They put a call through to Mr. Johnson and told them everything that had been seen. Mr. Johnson said that he would have to speak to his superiors and get back to them on the course of action.
Tbc…
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Six's blog. the Castro deaths
By N.Barnes
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Call SubDir: SanFrancisco/WeBlogs>
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Initializing…>
The team and I are just grabbing a couple of drinks and some grub downtown.
We’re not sure if we’re off mission or mid-run but I am sure that somebody somewhere thinks they can put the frighteners on me. I guess whoever that is didn’t hear what went down at CAT… Sorry, I’m digressing. My mind’s wondering a bit – chock full of a dozen different things. Questions without answers.
Since my last post, I had time enough under the bonnet to finish up on the Crew Cab for Ash. I’ve gotta say, for my first full-body customer job, she turned out to be a sweet ride. I think I went a little OTT though man – Ash gave me a 50k budget and after buying all the parts, there was just a grand left over. I ain’t never gonna cut enough profit to buy back my Bullet and retire if I don’t slow that roll! Aw, it was worth it though man, to see the look on his face. I guess if nothing else, the finished project will serve as a nice little advertisement for VI Customs!
After we hooked up, Snow put us in touch with a Johnson who offered us 10k a pop with a time dependent bonus of 500,000 nuyen for a little investigative work. Now those are the sort of numbers to catch a man’s eye. We definitely get the 10k each but the quicker we get results, the better, because each subsequent day we spend on the job knocks 50k off the bonus.
So anyway, the gig. Seems there have been a few deaths down in the Castro sector near where my Mom and Pops live. The deaths were almost exclusively in the metahuman population and the media are peddling fears that this is some new strain of HMHVV – the bug that goblinised half the population about 50 years ago. Our Johnson didn’t believe that but needed us to go in and gather evidence. Why us? I reckon because we can handle it more covertly than an official team from whatever Corp or Official Body he represents.
We hit research mode. People in Castro are understandably scared and the rumourmill is working overtime. Some say the deaths are HMHVV, some say a murderer stalks the streets – that sort of scuttlebutt. Truth is, no one really knows. We begin to piece together the jigsaw. A radio interview with a Civ, who claims our old friends the Notable Anarchists have dug up evidence that pins the blame squarely on a retro-engineered genetic weapon released into a test zone by Aztechnology; A sporting link between the victims – predominantly young male Trolls playing for teams in the Hood; A mysterious and vaguely Humanist Doctor, an HMHVV specialist conveniently present at all of the deaths who’s convinced the virus is responsible.
Nothing was quite hooking up and making sense but while we were catching a bite to eat with this Doc Ford, the restaurant he’d picked out for the meet got itself ram raided by AK toting goons in a Transit. We had about a nanosecond of startled before we made them regret ever picking a Shadowrunner picnic for an attempted robbery. We hadn’t taken in any weapons but I found a Tazer behind the bar for Sickle to get busy with, Frosty proved to be a dead aim with a well-thrown steak knife and Glyph, well Glyph was strapped but fuck me if I know where she got it from because I sure didn’t see her take it in. Ash and I were keeping our heads down but he had to play hero, charging out to snatch up one of the robbers own weapons.
|| >
As the dust settled, we figured we better blaze. Ash had deliberately just winged the last little scrote, so Sickle and Ki-rinn hauled him off for questioning. Turned out he was NA too and that was just a bit too coincidental for our liking. I think they tried to make a play to draw the Juggler out using the would-be robber as a hostage. Didn’t work out though – a sniper shot rang out and finished him off before they got the meet they’d tried to set up.
I remembered that Clive, the owner of Clive’s Dive where O’Bannon’s NA Cell had hung out, didn’t know I’d been involved with the Runners last time we went up against them so I figured I had nothing to lose by going down there and trying out the old code-phrase to ask for the Juggler’s help. At this point we were pretty much sure Aztechnology were responsible but we didn’t know how they were putting the pieces into place and it seemed as if he might have the answers. Clive remembered me but clearly things had changed for the local NA – unsurprising considering we half wiped them out last time – and rather than accept my credentials and put me in touch with the NA direct, Clive simply told me that if I wanted to help people in the Castro district, I should advise them to avoid new sports drink – Caribou. Caribou is being heavily marketed on the scene by a Troll sports star, targets sales at young metahumans and is produced by Chipecko, who just happen to be a subsidiary of, you guessed it, Aztechnology.
We’ve got wheels within wheels now and more coincidences than you can shake a stick at. We head on over to the home of one of the deceased and make with a little B&E to check out the contents of the fridge. Sure enough, there’s half a case of the suspect brew under the kid’s desk with empty cans in the rubbish bin nearby. We decide that what we need most is a chemical analysis of the remaining soda and we get in touch with Johnson. En route to the meet, we speculate that maybe the evidence against Aztechnology is legit, but equally it would fit the Juggler’s MO if he’d had the Notable Anarchists pollute the beverage before planting the evidence simply to discredit the South Americans. Either way, we figure we’ve not been asked to prove who’s behind the deaths, just confirm the cause. Which is why we don’t know right now if we’re off mission or mid-run. If Johnson comes back to us with a positive test then we’ve cracked the cause of the deaths and will be expecting our bonus. If not, I guess we’re heading back to Castro, sharpish!
Oh yeah – lest I forget. Somebody somewhere thinks they can frighten me.
While we were dining with Doc Ford, my HUD winked out and played back a recording from a sniper scope of me making my way down to the lock up. As the vid zoomed in over my heart, I heard a Hispanic voice whisper ‘Bang’
then as it zoomed in between my eyes whisper again ‘Bang – you’re dead.”
Talk about juvenile! Sure, it’s chilling to see how close you can come to death without knowing but I’ve grown up amongst gang cultures on the streets – I know all about showing front, giving face and counting coup and I learnt a long time ago that if you’re serious about something, you don’t posture and threaten. This fool’s getting high on his own supply if he thinks he can Hustle me. I don’t know who thinks they’re playing games with my head, whether it’s linked to CAT or to this Run or something else entirely, but I’m not going to let myself get frightened and chased off, No way. It’s not like I can do anything about it anyway. I don’t know what the threat relates to and if a sniper does decide to pull the trigger on me, I’ll have fuck all chance of dodging that bullet, forewarned or not.
My main concern is that my PAN got hacked so easily – and just after upgrading my Firewall too. According to K, the Hacker made himself a back door and left the video file on my PAN with a timed instruction to play tonight. There was no other intervention. Frosty said he’d drop a little program on for me to alert him to any future hacking attempts against me but other than that, there’s little more I can do except keep an ear to the ground for an even better Firewall and I think that means tapping K’s contacts up for some mil-spec programs and parting with a hefty slice of cashola pie…
Mood: Restive.
< ||
Call Dir: Shadownet/ShadowlandsBBS/>
Select Region: Region=SanFrancisco>
Call SubDir: SanFrancisco/WeBlogs>
Select Blog: Author=V.Six>
Initializing…>
The team and I are just grabbing a couple of drinks and some grub downtown.
We’re not sure if we’re off mission or mid-run but I am sure that somebody somewhere thinks they can put the frighteners on me. I guess whoever that is didn’t hear what went down at CAT… Sorry, I’m digressing. My mind’s wondering a bit – chock full of a dozen different things. Questions without answers.
Since my last post, I had time enough under the bonnet to finish up on the Crew Cab for Ash. I’ve gotta say, for my first full-body customer job, she turned out to be a sweet ride. I think I went a little OTT though man – Ash gave me a 50k budget and after buying all the parts, there was just a grand left over. I ain’t never gonna cut enough profit to buy back my Bullet and retire if I don’t slow that roll! Aw, it was worth it though man, to see the look on his face. I guess if nothing else, the finished project will serve as a nice little advertisement for VI Customs!
After we hooked up, Snow put us in touch with a Johnson who offered us 10k a pop with a time dependent bonus of 500,000 nuyen for a little investigative work. Now those are the sort of numbers to catch a man’s eye. We definitely get the 10k each but the quicker we get results, the better, because each subsequent day we spend on the job knocks 50k off the bonus.
So anyway, the gig. Seems there have been a few deaths down in the Castro sector near where my Mom and Pops live. The deaths were almost exclusively in the metahuman population and the media are peddling fears that this is some new strain of HMHVV – the bug that goblinised half the population about 50 years ago. Our Johnson didn’t believe that but needed us to go in and gather evidence. Why us? I reckon because we can handle it more covertly than an official team from whatever Corp or Official Body he represents.
We hit research mode. People in Castro are understandably scared and the rumourmill is working overtime. Some say the deaths are HMHVV, some say a murderer stalks the streets – that sort of scuttlebutt. Truth is, no one really knows. We begin to piece together the jigsaw. A radio interview with a Civ, who claims our old friends the Notable Anarchists have dug up evidence that pins the blame squarely on a retro-engineered genetic weapon released into a test zone by Aztechnology; A sporting link between the victims – predominantly young male Trolls playing for teams in the Hood; A mysterious and vaguely Humanist Doctor, an HMHVV specialist conveniently present at all of the deaths who’s convinced the virus is responsible.
Nothing was quite hooking up and making sense but while we were catching a bite to eat with this Doc Ford, the restaurant he’d picked out for the meet got itself ram raided by AK toting goons in a Transit. We had about a nanosecond of startled before we made them regret ever picking a Shadowrunner picnic for an attempted robbery. We hadn’t taken in any weapons but I found a Tazer behind the bar for Sickle to get busy with, Frosty proved to be a dead aim with a well-thrown steak knife and Glyph, well Glyph was strapped but fuck me if I know where she got it from because I sure didn’t see her take it in. Ash and I were keeping our heads down but he had to play hero, charging out to snatch up one of the robbers own weapons.
|| >
As the dust settled, we figured we better blaze. Ash had deliberately just winged the last little scrote, so Sickle and Ki-rinn hauled him off for questioning. Turned out he was NA too and that was just a bit too coincidental for our liking. I think they tried to make a play to draw the Juggler out using the would-be robber as a hostage. Didn’t work out though – a sniper shot rang out and finished him off before they got the meet they’d tried to set up.
I remembered that Clive, the owner of Clive’s Dive where O’Bannon’s NA Cell had hung out, didn’t know I’d been involved with the Runners last time we went up against them so I figured I had nothing to lose by going down there and trying out the old code-phrase to ask for the Juggler’s help. At this point we were pretty much sure Aztechnology were responsible but we didn’t know how they were putting the pieces into place and it seemed as if he might have the answers. Clive remembered me but clearly things had changed for the local NA – unsurprising considering we half wiped them out last time – and rather than accept my credentials and put me in touch with the NA direct, Clive simply told me that if I wanted to help people in the Castro district, I should advise them to avoid new sports drink – Caribou. Caribou is being heavily marketed on the scene by a Troll sports star, targets sales at young metahumans and is produced by Chipecko, who just happen to be a subsidiary of, you guessed it, Aztechnology.
We’ve got wheels within wheels now and more coincidences than you can shake a stick at. We head on over to the home of one of the deceased and make with a little B&E to check out the contents of the fridge. Sure enough, there’s half a case of the suspect brew under the kid’s desk with empty cans in the rubbish bin nearby. We decide that what we need most is a chemical analysis of the remaining soda and we get in touch with Johnson. En route to the meet, we speculate that maybe the evidence against Aztechnology is legit, but equally it would fit the Juggler’s MO if he’d had the Notable Anarchists pollute the beverage before planting the evidence simply to discredit the South Americans. Either way, we figure we’ve not been asked to prove who’s behind the deaths, just confirm the cause. Which is why we don’t know right now if we’re off mission or mid-run. If Johnson comes back to us with a positive test then we’ve cracked the cause of the deaths and will be expecting our bonus. If not, I guess we’re heading back to Castro, sharpish!
Oh yeah – lest I forget. Somebody somewhere thinks they can frighten me.
While we were dining with Doc Ford, my HUD winked out and played back a recording from a sniper scope of me making my way down to the lock up. As the vid zoomed in over my heart, I heard a Hispanic voice whisper ‘Bang’
then as it zoomed in between my eyes whisper again ‘Bang – you’re dead.”
Talk about juvenile! Sure, it’s chilling to see how close you can come to death without knowing but I’ve grown up amongst gang cultures on the streets – I know all about showing front, giving face and counting coup and I learnt a long time ago that if you’re serious about something, you don’t posture and threaten. This fool’s getting high on his own supply if he thinks he can Hustle me. I don’t know who thinks they’re playing games with my head, whether it’s linked to CAT or to this Run or something else entirely, but I’m not going to let myself get frightened and chased off, No way. It’s not like I can do anything about it anyway. I don’t know what the threat relates to and if a sniper does decide to pull the trigger on me, I’ll have fuck all chance of dodging that bullet, forewarned or not.
My main concern is that my PAN got hacked so easily – and just after upgrading my Firewall too. According to K, the Hacker made himself a back door and left the video file on my PAN with a timed instruction to play tonight. There was no other intervention. Frosty said he’d drop a little program on for me to alert him to any future hacking attempts against me but other than that, there’s little more I can do except keep an ear to the ground for an even better Firewall and I think that means tapping K’s contacts up for some mil-spec programs and parting with a hefty slice of cashola pie…
Mood: Restive.
< ||
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
The deaths in the Castro.
June 18th 2070.
Six, Ash, Ki-Rin, Glyph, Sickle.
Six handed over the keys to the Pickup truck he had been pimping to Ash, who was over the moon.
The runners were all called by Snow who had a job, and after meeting up, Snow set up a meet with a Mr. Johnson.
Mr. Johnson told the runners that there were a seriese of deaths in the Castro district of San Francisco which had the authorities worried a fee of half a million Nuyen had been made available to hire a team of runners to investigate and put a stop to it. The fee had time penalties to the tune of 50k a day to hurry the investigation on.
The word on the street was that the deaths were all linked to a new strain of HMHVV that had been devised by Aztechnology designed to target metahumans and to kill them off, and the symptoms before death are similar to that of a HMHVV attack. The runners took this info with a pinch of salt and proceeded to check out the rest of the clues.
The runners old friend, the Juggler, somehow had become involved with their run, his name turned up in a couple of places and the runners pondered why.
They visited some of the deceased, and quickly learned that the deaths were all male metahumans (with one exception). And they were all keen sportsmen.
The runners had a meeting set up by the Mr. Johnson with a doctor who was a specialist in the field of HMHVV and had been present at the deaths of the young men. Mr. J. wanted the runners to have all the intel he could provide.
The specialist, Dr. Manton Ford, dined with the runners and told them everything that he knew. The runners picked up on some sneered comments about metahumans and got the distinct feeling that Dr. Ford was racist.
The meal was interrupted by a van reversing in through the plate glass entrance and 5 men armed with AK97s yelling out that it was a robbery.
The runners stared on in disbelief for a moment or two before Glyph drew her concealed gun and got shooty. The rest of the runners who didn’t manage to sneak in any armarment made the best use of what they had. Six found a tazer under the bar which he handed to Sickle. Ki-Rin hurled steak knifes with deadly aim and very quickly all but one of the robbers was dead. The last was in the street and running. Ash picked up one of the dropped AK’s and fired a single shot, taking out the masked robbers knee.
The runners fled the sceen, not before Ash collected up the rest of the dropped AK97’s, and the masked man was bundled into his own van, and driven off by sickle and Ki-Rin for interrogation. The rest of the runners split.
This robber was a Notable Anarchist, and he had spoken to the Juggler. As soon as Ki-Rin relayed this info, Six had a brain wave. And sped off to Clives Dive, the pub where the NA’s met up before. Six had gotten talking to Clive, and thought that he would be able to get talking to him again.
The kidnapped Notable Anarchist was forced to make a call to the Juggler, to try and arrange a meet, and it seemed to work. But as the Ki-Rin and Sickle discussed the tactics for capturing the Juggler, the Notable Anarchist began broadcasting to the Juggler again. Sickle eventually noticed and smashed the Comlink.
They headed out to the agreed meeting place and waited. Eventually they realised that they were going to get no joy, abandoned their notable anarchist and most of them left. The rest stayed in hiding to see who would come and collect him.
A single gunshot ended his life. The runners scoured for the shooter, but (s)he was lost in the mass of residences.
Six headed down to see Clive. And eventually after fabricating and elaborating on his sob story, Clive revealed that his family would be fine as long as they stay away from a new sports drink.
The sports drink was targeted at metahumans, in a massive Ad campaign, and was also manufactured by Aztechnology, the runners were pretty confident that they had found the link to the deaths and went round to the house of one of the deceased. Sure enough there were cans of the stuff. The runners took their evidence and called Mr. Johnson.
The runners handed over their evidence. And told Mr. Johnson what they thought was happening. Eventually Mr. Johnson took the can of sports drink away to be tested. The runners were confident that they had found the source of the problem. And although they hadn’t stopped it, they weren’t going to take on Aztechnology so the Mr. Johnson who they suspected of working for the government could get his department to shut down the drinks production.
June 19th 2070. The results are due for the drink at 14:00
Six, Ash, Ki-Rin, Glyph, Sickle.
Six handed over the keys to the Pickup truck he had been pimping to Ash, who was over the moon.
The runners were all called by Snow who had a job, and after meeting up, Snow set up a meet with a Mr. Johnson.
Mr. Johnson told the runners that there were a seriese of deaths in the Castro district of San Francisco which had the authorities worried a fee of half a million Nuyen had been made available to hire a team of runners to investigate and put a stop to it. The fee had time penalties to the tune of 50k a day to hurry the investigation on.
The word on the street was that the deaths were all linked to a new strain of HMHVV that had been devised by Aztechnology designed to target metahumans and to kill them off, and the symptoms before death are similar to that of a HMHVV attack. The runners took this info with a pinch of salt and proceeded to check out the rest of the clues.
The runners old friend, the Juggler, somehow had become involved with their run, his name turned up in a couple of places and the runners pondered why.
They visited some of the deceased, and quickly learned that the deaths were all male metahumans (with one exception). And they were all keen sportsmen.
The runners had a meeting set up by the Mr. Johnson with a doctor who was a specialist in the field of HMHVV and had been present at the deaths of the young men. Mr. J. wanted the runners to have all the intel he could provide.
The specialist, Dr. Manton Ford, dined with the runners and told them everything that he knew. The runners picked up on some sneered comments about metahumans and got the distinct feeling that Dr. Ford was racist.
The meal was interrupted by a van reversing in through the plate glass entrance and 5 men armed with AK97s yelling out that it was a robbery.
The runners stared on in disbelief for a moment or two before Glyph drew her concealed gun and got shooty. The rest of the runners who didn’t manage to sneak in any armarment made the best use of what they had. Six found a tazer under the bar which he handed to Sickle. Ki-Rin hurled steak knifes with deadly aim and very quickly all but one of the robbers was dead. The last was in the street and running. Ash picked up one of the dropped AK’s and fired a single shot, taking out the masked robbers knee.
The runners fled the sceen, not before Ash collected up the rest of the dropped AK97’s, and the masked man was bundled into his own van, and driven off by sickle and Ki-Rin for interrogation. The rest of the runners split.
This robber was a Notable Anarchist, and he had spoken to the Juggler. As soon as Ki-Rin relayed this info, Six had a brain wave. And sped off to Clives Dive, the pub where the NA’s met up before. Six had gotten talking to Clive, and thought that he would be able to get talking to him again.
The kidnapped Notable Anarchist was forced to make a call to the Juggler, to try and arrange a meet, and it seemed to work. But as the Ki-Rin and Sickle discussed the tactics for capturing the Juggler, the Notable Anarchist began broadcasting to the Juggler again. Sickle eventually noticed and smashed the Comlink.
They headed out to the agreed meeting place and waited. Eventually they realised that they were going to get no joy, abandoned their notable anarchist and most of them left. The rest stayed in hiding to see who would come and collect him.
A single gunshot ended his life. The runners scoured for the shooter, but (s)he was lost in the mass of residences.
Six headed down to see Clive. And eventually after fabricating and elaborating on his sob story, Clive revealed that his family would be fine as long as they stay away from a new sports drink.
The sports drink was targeted at metahumans, in a massive Ad campaign, and was also manufactured by Aztechnology, the runners were pretty confident that they had found the link to the deaths and went round to the house of one of the deceased. Sure enough there were cans of the stuff. The runners took their evidence and called Mr. Johnson.
The runners handed over their evidence. And told Mr. Johnson what they thought was happening. Eventually Mr. Johnson took the can of sports drink away to be tested. The runners were confident that they had found the source of the problem. And although they hadn’t stopped it, they weren’t going to take on Aztechnology so the Mr. Johnson who they suspected of working for the government could get his department to shut down the drinks production.
June 19th 2070. The results are due for the drink at 14:00
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
SNS Matrix report. 18th July 2070
Sensation News Station
The news station which not only brings you the latest news but digs deeper to find the exciting story that lies behind every mundane life story.
Nearly two weeks since the start of the epidemic, and the crisis seems to be picking up pace. There are now eight deaths and three more unconfirmed cases, all of which have similar symptoms and hark back to the dark days of twenty ten.
People are being warned that if they suffer high fever, severe headache, muscle, joint or abdominal pain, severe weakness and exhaustion, sore throat, nausea, or dizziness to consult a medical practicioner. There is a free AI diagnostic tool set up in the wake of the growing medical emergency.
Residents of the Castro area are being told that there is no need to panic, even though the vector and pathogen involved is not yet know.
Doctor Manton Ford, one of the specialists who volunteered to try and help in this situation has had to endure witnessing the final hours of the victims and is in no doubt that there is a new and deadly form of HMHVV.
“I am in no doubt that this is a new and even more deadly form of the Human Meta-Human Vampiric Virus”
Tune to node 32 for more news updates from SNS.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Six's blog. The Zoo
By N.Barnes
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Entry 12: 08.06.70>
So Ash finally put his short arms in his deep pockets and coughed up some Benjamins for a Dodge Crew Cab. I’ve got plans for this vehicle capiche – it’s for my boy so I’m tricking it out as a real sweet ride and spent most of last week with my head under the bonnet. I reckon another couple of weeks and she’ll be good to go.
Kitty decided I’d been hard at it for a little too long and at her insistence we hauled ass down the Strip for an impromptu meet. Two racers were looking for action - a young pup, name of Bumfluff, cruising in a DBI tuned Toyota Commuter, I’d seen in last week’s ‘Trader. I knew what to expect from him but there was a Troll too, name of Smog, mixing it in a tidy UCAS Muscle Car and he was an unknown quantity. Like I was bothered…
Off the line I played up for the crowd and deliberately let the boys get the drop but damn me if I didn’t immediately go and dump the clutch late and kangaroo forward off the line. Ain’t no kudos in those skills Dog!
Bumfluff’s acceleration gave him the lead from Smog but he was all about straight line with no concession for the corners and he span out first turn.
Ghosting Smog around, I saw him swerve to avoid a reversing truck and I dived for the gap slowly appearing between the truck’s front end and the wall. It was tight, but I am THAT damn good. Cruised past the cab giving the truckie a coronary and left Smog chewing fumes.
Evidently Mr Troll is a canny racer though. He tracked me through turn two and on the back straight picked up my slipstream. He got a good draft and was wise to me closing the door, selling me a dummy before chasing it up the inside. He was maybe a car length in front and I could see his muscle motor had the top speed edge. I knew I’d have to put my skills on the limit through the complex of turns three and four. I picked up his draft, then as I saw him dump the brakes, swung out to take a higher, tighter and faster line. The rubber bit at the front as the back drifted nicely out leaving Smog chewing his steering wheel in frustration. He bogged down out of the corner and there was no need to take further risks, so I eased off through four, then floored it for the home straight before kicking the back end out past the line to finish with a neat little J. I had to give Smog his props though – the dog can drive so I’ll be looking out for him on the strip again next time!
Turns out that while I was laying down my moves on the blacktop, Mr Contacts was doing his thing and picking us up an easy sounding 20k contract to ‘liberate’ a mated pair of Thunderbirds from the San Fran National Zoo. He hit me up the next day and a brief Google later, I was smacking him upside his damn swede. Thunderbirds are paranormal crits that can form an electrical charge like a lightning bolt and fire it out of their damn arse.
And we’d gotta bring these birds in alive? What a crap shoot.
We took the girls for a day out at the zoo and had a quick recce, learning that our Thanksgiving Turkeys were being treated at the Vets. You’d think this would make it an easy mark but after gearing up and heading back later that night, we found someone a little ahead of us. The guards were out cold, gates and doors forced open and cameras spray painted out. Thunderbirds were gone and Lone Star were inbound. We snuck out quietly and Sickle tapped up Lamb for some intel. Tracking the raiders on Cam, we followed them to a Downtown apartment block. We expected trouble but it was just a couple of student beatnik Greenpeace wannabe’s FFS! Sickle gave them a lecture while Ash set up a drop and we took our birds and blazed. Frag knows what ailed them - if not for the Medibot we’d have lost them but they held on until the Johnson paid up!
Mood: Bemused! From Corp War to Avian Theft. What a week!
Ends: 1/1>
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Initializing…>
Entry 12: 08.06.70>
So Ash finally put his short arms in his deep pockets and coughed up some Benjamins for a Dodge Crew Cab. I’ve got plans for this vehicle capiche – it’s for my boy so I’m tricking it out as a real sweet ride and spent most of last week with my head under the bonnet. I reckon another couple of weeks and she’ll be good to go.
Kitty decided I’d been hard at it for a little too long and at her insistence we hauled ass down the Strip for an impromptu meet. Two racers were looking for action - a young pup, name of Bumfluff, cruising in a DBI tuned Toyota Commuter, I’d seen in last week’s ‘Trader. I knew what to expect from him but there was a Troll too, name of Smog, mixing it in a tidy UCAS Muscle Car and he was an unknown quantity. Like I was bothered…
Off the line I played up for the crowd and deliberately let the boys get the drop but damn me if I didn’t immediately go and dump the clutch late and kangaroo forward off the line. Ain’t no kudos in those skills Dog!
Bumfluff’s acceleration gave him the lead from Smog but he was all about straight line with no concession for the corners and he span out first turn.
Ghosting Smog around, I saw him swerve to avoid a reversing truck and I dived for the gap slowly appearing between the truck’s front end and the wall. It was tight, but I am THAT damn good. Cruised past the cab giving the truckie a coronary and left Smog chewing fumes.
Evidently Mr Troll is a canny racer though. He tracked me through turn two and on the back straight picked up my slipstream. He got a good draft and was wise to me closing the door, selling me a dummy before chasing it up the inside. He was maybe a car length in front and I could see his muscle motor had the top speed edge. I knew I’d have to put my skills on the limit through the complex of turns three and four. I picked up his draft, then as I saw him dump the brakes, swung out to take a higher, tighter and faster line. The rubber bit at the front as the back drifted nicely out leaving Smog chewing his steering wheel in frustration. He bogged down out of the corner and there was no need to take further risks, so I eased off through four, then floored it for the home straight before kicking the back end out past the line to finish with a neat little J. I had to give Smog his props though – the dog can drive so I’ll be looking out for him on the strip again next time!
Turns out that while I was laying down my moves on the blacktop, Mr Contacts was doing his thing and picking us up an easy sounding 20k contract to ‘liberate’ a mated pair of Thunderbirds from the San Fran National Zoo. He hit me up the next day and a brief Google later, I was smacking him upside his damn swede. Thunderbirds are paranormal crits that can form an electrical charge like a lightning bolt and fire it out of their damn arse.
And we’d gotta bring these birds in alive? What a crap shoot.
We took the girls for a day out at the zoo and had a quick recce, learning that our Thanksgiving Turkeys were being treated at the Vets. You’d think this would make it an easy mark but after gearing up and heading back later that night, we found someone a little ahead of us. The guards were out cold, gates and doors forced open and cameras spray painted out. Thunderbirds were gone and Lone Star were inbound. We snuck out quietly and Sickle tapped up Lamb for some intel. Tracking the raiders on Cam, we followed them to a Downtown apartment block. We expected trouble but it was just a couple of student beatnik Greenpeace wannabe’s FFS! Sickle gave them a lecture while Ash set up a drop and we took our birds and blazed. Frag knows what ailed them - if not for the Medibot we’d have lost them but they held on until the Johnson paid up!
Mood: Bemused! From Corp War to Avian Theft. What a week!
Ends: 1/1>
The Zoo
Six, Ash, Sickle.
The runners settled into a bit of downtime, Six started working on Ash’s car, while Ash started to try and learn some more physi-adept, Ki-Rin headed off to Long Island on the lash with the lads from his old squad.
Six entered into a street race with a couple of other racers, Bum-fluff and Smog. The young racer, Bum-fluff, blew his engine, trying too hard. The experienced campaigner, Smog, was more of a match for Six, and Six nearly lost the race to the troll, but managed to get him on the last corner.
Drinks were on Six that night.
8th July 2070.
Ash received a phone call from a Mr. Johnson; he had an accent that Ash couldn’t quite place. The job seemed simple enough. The customer wanted the runners to get hold of a mating pair of Thunderbirds back from San Fran Zoo. The customer was prepared to pay 20k.
Ash took the job.
Six and Sickle were drafted in to help. And as Ash told them the job over coffees, the pair were filled with disbelief. Six had a quick look on the matrix and called up the datafile on Thunderbirds. 3m wingspan, lightning bolt shooting critters.
They decided that they needed to go and see these birds for real and drafted in Kitty and Daisy to join them for an afternoon at the zoo.
Walking around, half enjoying the zoo, half taking in security and other pertinent info the runners spent an afternoon looking. The Critters had been taken ill and were being held in the onsite vetrenary surgery. The runners decided to make a move that night.
Concern that these critters could project lightning they invested in the latest urban cammo electrically insulated body armour. And balaclavas. Sickle got onto his hacker contact with the absence of Ki-Rin and arranged for the doors to be opened and the cameras to be turned off, and then the runners made a move.
Deciding to drive around the back of the zoo, and get access to the vet’s area without having to access the rest of the zoo. Making their way round they discovered the slumped and unconscious form of one of the tubby zoo guards.
Making their way in further to the compound, it was clear that they were not the first to break into the zoo this night.
The runners quickly searched the vet’s area, and there was no sign of the Thunderbirds, they then headed down toward the display cage where the thunderbirds would usually be kept in the zoo, they found that the bird thieves had been here too.
The reflection of blue lights flickered off nearby trees. The fraggers had called Lone Star as they were leaving the zoo with the Thunderbirds.
The runners headed back the way they had come but the cops had blocked that exit. Six remembered that he had seen some redundant gates, and running the 4x4 truck on the electric motor they made their way to that gate. After ensuring the coast was clear the runners escaped through the surrounding forest.
These bird snatches that beat the runners to the punch used bog basic methods of evading the cameras, spray paint, which meant that they wouldn’t have been able to cover their tracks once they got out onto the open road. Sickle called his contact that soon found the vehicle and was able to follow it to the apartment building in San Francisco. The runners moved out and tracked down the pickup.
Carefully checking over the pickup, the runners found the ID card of a student, and Sickles contact gave the runners the address for the Pickup owners apartment.
The runners hot footed it up the stairs and booted in the door to the apartment. The runners found the birds in a cage, looking very ill with some young eco warriors who tried to free them desperate to revive the ailing critters.
The runners gave them a life lecture and took the birds. Ash got in contact with their Mr. Johnson from the Tir Tangire, and arranged for the birds to be picked up. Although the birds were very ill, they survived with the aid of Six’s medibot and the runners handed over the birds to the Mr. J who collected them.
20k was earned and the runners went home relatively happy.
The runners settled into a bit of downtime, Six started working on Ash’s car, while Ash started to try and learn some more physi-adept, Ki-Rin headed off to Long Island on the lash with the lads from his old squad.
Six entered into a street race with a couple of other racers, Bum-fluff and Smog. The young racer, Bum-fluff, blew his engine, trying too hard. The experienced campaigner, Smog, was more of a match for Six, and Six nearly lost the race to the troll, but managed to get him on the last corner.
Drinks were on Six that night.
8th July 2070.
Ash received a phone call from a Mr. Johnson; he had an accent that Ash couldn’t quite place. The job seemed simple enough. The customer wanted the runners to get hold of a mating pair of Thunderbirds back from San Fran Zoo. The customer was prepared to pay 20k.
Ash took the job.
Six and Sickle were drafted in to help. And as Ash told them the job over coffees, the pair were filled with disbelief. Six had a quick look on the matrix and called up the datafile on Thunderbirds. 3m wingspan, lightning bolt shooting critters.
They decided that they needed to go and see these birds for real and drafted in Kitty and Daisy to join them for an afternoon at the zoo.
Walking around, half enjoying the zoo, half taking in security and other pertinent info the runners spent an afternoon looking. The Critters had been taken ill and were being held in the onsite vetrenary surgery. The runners decided to make a move that night.
Concern that these critters could project lightning they invested in the latest urban cammo electrically insulated body armour. And balaclavas. Sickle got onto his hacker contact with the absence of Ki-Rin and arranged for the doors to be opened and the cameras to be turned off, and then the runners made a move.
Deciding to drive around the back of the zoo, and get access to the vet’s area without having to access the rest of the zoo. Making their way round they discovered the slumped and unconscious form of one of the tubby zoo guards.
Making their way in further to the compound, it was clear that they were not the first to break into the zoo this night.
The runners quickly searched the vet’s area, and there was no sign of the Thunderbirds, they then headed down toward the display cage where the thunderbirds would usually be kept in the zoo, they found that the bird thieves had been here too.
The reflection of blue lights flickered off nearby trees. The fraggers had called Lone Star as they were leaving the zoo with the Thunderbirds.
The runners headed back the way they had come but the cops had blocked that exit. Six remembered that he had seen some redundant gates, and running the 4x4 truck on the electric motor they made their way to that gate. After ensuring the coast was clear the runners escaped through the surrounding forest.
These bird snatches that beat the runners to the punch used bog basic methods of evading the cameras, spray paint, which meant that they wouldn’t have been able to cover their tracks once they got out onto the open road. Sickle called his contact that soon found the vehicle and was able to follow it to the apartment building in San Francisco. The runners moved out and tracked down the pickup.
Carefully checking over the pickup, the runners found the ID card of a student, and Sickles contact gave the runners the address for the Pickup owners apartment.
The runners hot footed it up the stairs and booted in the door to the apartment. The runners found the birds in a cage, looking very ill with some young eco warriors who tried to free them desperate to revive the ailing critters.
The runners gave them a life lecture and took the birds. Ash got in contact with their Mr. Johnson from the Tir Tangire, and arranged for the birds to be picked up. Although the birds were very ill, they survived with the aid of Six’s medibot and the runners handed over the birds to the Mr. J who collected them.
20k was earned and the runners went home relatively happy.
Friday, July 07, 2006
Six's Blog. Cross HQ
By N.Barnes
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Entry 11: 03.06.70>
There’s an old saying my Pops bandies around from time to time. Some days you’re the windshield, untouchable, with everything just blowing over you or bouncing off of you. Other days, you’re the bug and it’s your ass that ends up smeared across some other guy’s windshield. I guess, maybe, for a long time now, we’ve been the bug. Regular readers know from this Blog how we’ve been through the mill and back. Today was about payback. Today, we were the windshield… I warned Cross, that I’d be back.
We left the girls at Ash’ safe house near the harbour with an old buddy of his. I worried that when Blake came around, he’d just revert to type, follow through on his orders from Cross and kidnap the girls all over again. Screw that. We stuffed his hog-tied ass right back in the boot of the car and put our heads together about our assault on CAT HQ.
We all knew walking into a corporate stronghold in Silicon Valley was tantamount to suicide so Ki-rinn whistled up some legit work papers for us to sneak in as a team of electrical engineers and sorted a tried and trusted truck rental for us. I rustled up some suitable decals, while Glyph got to work on concealing weaponry inside power tool cases and building silencers.
Ash went through Snow to gather us a bit more hardware, while Sickle busied himself sorting out all the kit we’d need for our disguises.
The ruse, didn’t work for long. It served its purpose and got us through the external security into the underground car park and from there into the maintenance areas of Cross HQ. We got as far as the fourth floor before something or other gave the game away. The lift doors pinged open and we were nose-to-nose with a couple of real mean-looking bad asses in CAT Security gear. With little room to manoeuvre in the elevator, we were forced to improvise. We had the advantage of surprise too. They knew someone was sneaking around their building but I don’t think they expected to find five burly Shadowrunners sharing an express elevator to the Penthouse!
Grenades played a key part of our modus operandi. Ki-rinn and Sickle wanted to go for maximum damage to hit Cross where it really hurts – square in the profit margins. The first grenade kept the guards’ heads down on Level Four as I snagged a Security Over-ride and got us moving again. The second saved Glyph’s life after the cut the power and we were forced to abandon the lift.
While we were sitting ducks dangling from the emergency ladder in the lift shaft, security pried open the doors on Level Five hoping to shoot down on us from above. A neat toss from Ki-rinn left them scrambling for cover and buying the farm in the ensuing explosion.
The third and fourth grenades kept Security off of our backs as we made our way from Floor Five to Seven in the stairwell. Breaking out onto Seven, we knew we were close to the half-spirit, half-wit Allisom Cross. Ki-rinn had tracked his PAN to this level and as we spread out, Sickle used the fifth grenade to take out a Steel Lynx security drone concealed in Cross’ outer office. Sickle and I burst into his private office only to realise Glyph had flanked him and simultaneously come in through a side door. Lucky for Glyph, we’d only used a Flash-bang to start with!
Continues: 1/2>
>
Ki-rinn painted Cross but Sickle and I only re-entered the office in time to see him flung out of the office and across the office like a rag doll. With the cry of ‘Mage’ going up from our comrades, we abandoned any intention of screwing Dreamseed information out of him and settled for taking a pound of flesh. I saw shot after shot, bullet after bullet, tear into that guy but rather than falling down dead, we just seemed to be stripping Cross away from Allisom like taking a cheap fancy dress costume apart piece by piece to reveal the dark spirit form lurking within. We needed to do something and there was only one thing I could think of. Bracing my pistol in both hands, I took aim at the asshole’s head…
Ki-rinn says that on the battlefield, some significant moments seem to slow to a crawl. This was like that. Seconds crawled by in slow motion. I saw the flame, felt the heat, as a fireball from Allisom’s right hand washed over Sickle and I. Lying prone on the floor, I was protected from the worst of the blast though I felt my exposed skin tightening and blackening. Slowly I increased pressure on the trigger, squeezing it more and more until with a buck, the retort of the gun firing rang in my ears. I swear I saw that bullet run straight and true. I swear I saw the realisation in my enemy’s eyes as death rushed towards him on swift nickel wings. Half of his head disappeared in an impact that spun him 360 in a lazy pirouette and dumped his carcass on the deck like a marionette with its strings cut. Nessuno scompiglia con la mia famiglia!
I know nothing about magic but Allisom’s death released some sort of prescient force. Like the visions of my loved ones when we were facing Silk, I suddenly saw Allisom’s last entry from the Astral Plane into our world and the devastation that ensued. I heard Dominic Cross summoning him, saw the spirit’s smile as yet another mortal played into his hands and finally saw the Duke, using a holo-projector to distract us while the Console Soldiers flanked us and mowed us down automatic gunfire.
Snapping out of my reverie, I realised everyone else has shared the vision.
With a snarl, Ki-rinn led the way towards the roof, smashing the holoprojector, intent on taking out the Duke. Sickle and I covered the exodus and man, did those goons get a surprise. Two more grenades sailed through the door as they burst out expecting to corner us. What’s the matter boys? Don’t FPS Bots fight dirty in your games?
Up on the roof, the Duke was attempting to scramble a chopper and get the frag out of Dodge as Ki-rinn, Glyph and Ash spread out, directing a hail of shots towards the target. Lagging a little behind, we saw a Console Soldier break cover to fire from Ki-Rinn’s blindside. Ki-rinn dived for cover at his feet as a nose-mounted Gatling on the Heli opened up. Ash went down hard and as I snatched a Nano-medkit from Ki-rinn’s webbing to administer aid, Sickle made his last grenade count with a looping cast that dropped a nice surprise right next to the Duke in the chopper’s rear.
With Lone Star surrounding the building, we made a few hasty patches to salvage the helicopter and dumping Duke’s corpse unceremoniously onto the tarmac we limped into the sky. Spotting an executive tennis court nearby, I remote PANned the cars to that location for a pick up and headed over the cops’ heads for it. We had a rough ride but I managed to get us down safely.
Just. Maybe a few lessons wouldn’t go amiss. As we sat tight in the cars, Glyph’s brainwave had me sending the Chopper skyward again, this time on remote, using it as a decoy to draw Lone Star off on a merry chase away from our position.
Man I’m ramped! We iced us a couple of irritating bad guys, got some sweet revenge and escaped with our lives. Gauge paid in full, despite Dad Cross pulling the Perfect Shooter game off of the market, but better yet, we were a team. One hundred and ten per cent bona fide a team. After everything bad that has happened to us, that means a lot. Time to celebrate with a few beers and persuade the Replacement Killers to stay!
Mood: Celebrazione!
Ends: 2/2>
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Initializing…>
Entry 11: 03.06.70>
There’s an old saying my Pops bandies around from time to time. Some days you’re the windshield, untouchable, with everything just blowing over you or bouncing off of you. Other days, you’re the bug and it’s your ass that ends up smeared across some other guy’s windshield. I guess, maybe, for a long time now, we’ve been the bug. Regular readers know from this Blog how we’ve been through the mill and back. Today was about payback. Today, we were the windshield… I warned Cross, that I’d be back.
We left the girls at Ash’ safe house near the harbour with an old buddy of his. I worried that when Blake came around, he’d just revert to type, follow through on his orders from Cross and kidnap the girls all over again. Screw that. We stuffed his hog-tied ass right back in the boot of the car and put our heads together about our assault on CAT HQ.
We all knew walking into a corporate stronghold in Silicon Valley was tantamount to suicide so Ki-rinn whistled up some legit work papers for us to sneak in as a team of electrical engineers and sorted a tried and trusted truck rental for us. I rustled up some suitable decals, while Glyph got to work on concealing weaponry inside power tool cases and building silencers.
Ash went through Snow to gather us a bit more hardware, while Sickle busied himself sorting out all the kit we’d need for our disguises.
The ruse, didn’t work for long. It served its purpose and got us through the external security into the underground car park and from there into the maintenance areas of Cross HQ. We got as far as the fourth floor before something or other gave the game away. The lift doors pinged open and we were nose-to-nose with a couple of real mean-looking bad asses in CAT Security gear. With little room to manoeuvre in the elevator, we were forced to improvise. We had the advantage of surprise too. They knew someone was sneaking around their building but I don’t think they expected to find five burly Shadowrunners sharing an express elevator to the Penthouse!
Grenades played a key part of our modus operandi. Ki-rinn and Sickle wanted to go for maximum damage to hit Cross where it really hurts – square in the profit margins. The first grenade kept the guards’ heads down on Level Four as I snagged a Security Over-ride and got us moving again. The second saved Glyph’s life after the cut the power and we were forced to abandon the lift.
While we were sitting ducks dangling from the emergency ladder in the lift shaft, security pried open the doors on Level Five hoping to shoot down on us from above. A neat toss from Ki-rinn left them scrambling for cover and buying the farm in the ensuing explosion.
The third and fourth grenades kept Security off of our backs as we made our way from Floor Five to Seven in the stairwell. Breaking out onto Seven, we knew we were close to the half-spirit, half-wit Allisom Cross. Ki-rinn had tracked his PAN to this level and as we spread out, Sickle used the fifth grenade to take out a Steel Lynx security drone concealed in Cross’ outer office. Sickle and I burst into his private office only to realise Glyph had flanked him and simultaneously come in through a side door. Lucky for Glyph, we’d only used a Flash-bang to start with!
Continues: 1/2>
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Ki-rinn painted Cross but Sickle and I only re-entered the office in time to see him flung out of the office and across the office like a rag doll. With the cry of ‘Mage’ going up from our comrades, we abandoned any intention of screwing Dreamseed information out of him and settled for taking a pound of flesh. I saw shot after shot, bullet after bullet, tear into that guy but rather than falling down dead, we just seemed to be stripping Cross away from Allisom like taking a cheap fancy dress costume apart piece by piece to reveal the dark spirit form lurking within. We needed to do something and there was only one thing I could think of. Bracing my pistol in both hands, I took aim at the asshole’s head…
Ki-rinn says that on the battlefield, some significant moments seem to slow to a crawl. This was like that. Seconds crawled by in slow motion. I saw the flame, felt the heat, as a fireball from Allisom’s right hand washed over Sickle and I. Lying prone on the floor, I was protected from the worst of the blast though I felt my exposed skin tightening and blackening. Slowly I increased pressure on the trigger, squeezing it more and more until with a buck, the retort of the gun firing rang in my ears. I swear I saw that bullet run straight and true. I swear I saw the realisation in my enemy’s eyes as death rushed towards him on swift nickel wings. Half of his head disappeared in an impact that spun him 360 in a lazy pirouette and dumped his carcass on the deck like a marionette with its strings cut. Nessuno scompiglia con la mia famiglia!
I know nothing about magic but Allisom’s death released some sort of prescient force. Like the visions of my loved ones when we were facing Silk, I suddenly saw Allisom’s last entry from the Astral Plane into our world and the devastation that ensued. I heard Dominic Cross summoning him, saw the spirit’s smile as yet another mortal played into his hands and finally saw the Duke, using a holo-projector to distract us while the Console Soldiers flanked us and mowed us down automatic gunfire.
Snapping out of my reverie, I realised everyone else has shared the vision.
With a snarl, Ki-rinn led the way towards the roof, smashing the holoprojector, intent on taking out the Duke. Sickle and I covered the exodus and man, did those goons get a surprise. Two more grenades sailed through the door as they burst out expecting to corner us. What’s the matter boys? Don’t FPS Bots fight dirty in your games?
Up on the roof, the Duke was attempting to scramble a chopper and get the frag out of Dodge as Ki-rinn, Glyph and Ash spread out, directing a hail of shots towards the target. Lagging a little behind, we saw a Console Soldier break cover to fire from Ki-Rinn’s blindside. Ki-rinn dived for cover at his feet as a nose-mounted Gatling on the Heli opened up. Ash went down hard and as I snatched a Nano-medkit from Ki-rinn’s webbing to administer aid, Sickle made his last grenade count with a looping cast that dropped a nice surprise right next to the Duke in the chopper’s rear.
With Lone Star surrounding the building, we made a few hasty patches to salvage the helicopter and dumping Duke’s corpse unceremoniously onto the tarmac we limped into the sky. Spotting an executive tennis court nearby, I remote PANned the cars to that location for a pick up and headed over the cops’ heads for it. We had a rough ride but I managed to get us down safely.
Just. Maybe a few lessons wouldn’t go amiss. As we sat tight in the cars, Glyph’s brainwave had me sending the Chopper skyward again, this time on remote, using it as a decoy to draw Lone Star off on a merry chase away from our position.
Man I’m ramped! We iced us a couple of irritating bad guys, got some sweet revenge and escaped with our lives. Gauge paid in full, despite Dad Cross pulling the Perfect Shooter game off of the market, but better yet, we were a team. One hundred and ten per cent bona fide a team. After everything bad that has happened to us, that means a lot. Time to celebrate with a few beers and persuade the Replacement Killers to stay!
Mood: Celebrazione!
Ends: 2/2>
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Attack on Cross Head Quarters
Six, Sickle, Glyph, Ash, Ki-Rin.
Friday 2nd June 2070
Ash knew a contact he could rely on to keep an eye on Daisy, Kitty and Blake and they left them there but before they left Six thought about leaving Blake, the Perfect Shooter graduate. If he was under Cross Applied control before, he could still be under their influence. They bundled him into the boot of the car instead.
Ki-Rin had a bit of a plan. He would forge maintenance passes, the runners could gain access to the building as contractors they could then locate Dominic Cross and beat some answers out of him.
Ki-Rin hit the matrix, made arrangements to collect a hire van from SF truck rentals, and then hacked into the Cross mainframe to insert some contractor worker on file. Glyph set about modifying weapons, disguising a handgun in the body of a drill, and was able to fabricate a crude silencer. Ash went round to see their fixer, Snow, and bought up the ordinance the runners wanted. Six set about manufacturing some graphics to cover the SF truck rental logo to add credence to their cover story that they were contractors, and Sickle headed off to Screwfix to buy up overalls, tool belts and boxes, and other workman paraphernalia as their disguise.
By five o clock the runners were ready. Tools were loaded into the back of the freshly decaled hire van the runners had a cover story, and were keen to get on. Six drove them down to the underground complex, and after a bit of swift talking from Ki-Rin they drove into the underground car park of Cross Applied technologies.
Unloading the “tools” of the trade, the shadowrunners went into the maintenance area, they were met my the engineer who directed them to the power conduits that their phoney works order permitted them to work on.
Ki-Rin spotted a decker in VR who was investigating the new PAN’s that had entered the building. Ki-Rin instructed everyone to turn their PAN’s off, which they did, but then left his own PAN on as her continued to cold sim in VR.
The runners then headed for the stairs. Coming up to the next level they decided to split, so three of them carried on up the stairs, the two others stepped out and got into the lift.
Heading up the stairs, the trio came to a door, opening it they found themselves in reception. A quick talk to the receptionist they called the lift. The same lift the other two runners were in. Feigning surprise they all climbed in and Ki-Rin had a quick search for Dominic’s PAN. He found it on floor 7 and they hit the button. The doors closed, and then Ki-Rin found his active PAN being probed again. Ki-Rin decided that this decker was trouble and met him in full, hot sim, VR.
The two deckers fought for nanoseconds that passed like minutes, but Ki-Rin got the better of the Cross decker, who pulled out of the matrix all together. The Cross Applied decker then alerted security that there was a security breach.
Security on the third floor overrode the lift with a bypass card, and the lift doors opened. The runners were caught on the hop but dispatched the guards quickly. More guards descended on the lift, and a grenade was thrown. The explosion took out the guards, at which point Lone Star were called, and the security decker put a call through to Dominic.
The runners got back into the lift, which made its way up half a floor before having it’s power turned off quickly clambered out onto the roof of the lift and begun to climb the emergency ladder. Guards on the next floor jacked open the lift doors and were able to shoot at the runners. A grenade was thrown into the narrow gap, which took out the guards. Glyph was hit with the backwash but was okay.
The runners got out onto the emergency stairs and ran towards floor 7. They seemed to be being pursued but a well-placed grenade slowed this pursuit. And the runners made their way out onto the floor. The runners fanned out and were making their way passed the 1-way reflective glass offices. Six and Sickle opened the door to one of the offices and Sickle saw what appeared to be the wheels of a Steel Lynx behind a table. Not taking any chances a high explosive grenade was tossed into the room. Realisation dawned that the glass office wouldn’t offer much protection and the runners dropped prone.
The explosion tore out the glass walls showering Six, Sickle and Glyph in debris. Glyph made her way to the next office and opened the door. She saw Dominic sat there, Six and Sickle opened another door into the same office lobbed in a flash bang grenade that bounced once on the table between Glyph and Dominic
The runners fought with Dominic who used magic against them. Dominic’s flesh body was torn from the body of something more sinister beneath. The husk of Allisom. Six took aim with his gun (disguised as a drill) and fired one shot. The bullet hit Allisom’s eye and killed the spirit instantly.
The runners were hit by a vision of the Scourge. How Allisom ushers in the spirits into the world when the real and astral planes converge. The runners saw the destruction of the 4th world, and the beginning of the 5th. They saw the birth of the 6th and then they saw Dominic summon Allisom before time. The runners then saw themselves kill Dominic before being tricked by the Duke and getting killed themselves.
The runners snapped out of the trance stood around the body of Dominic. They went for the door and as the vision had shown them they saw the hologram of the Duke stood in the doorway. Six and Sickle got grenady on the soldiers who were about to surprise them through the back door and ran for the roof.
On the roof the runners saw the Duke at the helicopter. The runners opened fire, and then another grenade was deployed into he helicopter. After a brief firefight, the Duke was dead, and the runners were not. They were on the roof of Cross Applied Technologies and looking down, they saw that Lone Star had arrived. En mass.
The runners took the crippled helicopter and flew it for a tennis court about a mile away. Six remote controlled the cars to meet them there. And they made the limping flight across.
The runners evaded Lone Star for long enough to get out of Silicon Valley and back into downtown San Francisco. They headed off to see Gauge who told them that Lucien Cross, the owner of Cross Applied technologies had pulled the plug on his son’s pet project Perfect Shooter, and that the run was cancelled. The funds were still in, and the runners were still paid.
The runners headed home. Finished what had started all those weeks ago but now they could see the vestiges of astral perception hanging in their peripheral vision…
Friday 2nd June 2070
Ash knew a contact he could rely on to keep an eye on Daisy, Kitty and Blake and they left them there but before they left Six thought about leaving Blake, the Perfect Shooter graduate. If he was under Cross Applied control before, he could still be under their influence. They bundled him into the boot of the car instead.
Ki-Rin had a bit of a plan. He would forge maintenance passes, the runners could gain access to the building as contractors they could then locate Dominic Cross and beat some answers out of him.
Ki-Rin hit the matrix, made arrangements to collect a hire van from SF truck rentals, and then hacked into the Cross mainframe to insert some contractor worker on file. Glyph set about modifying weapons, disguising a handgun in the body of a drill, and was able to fabricate a crude silencer. Ash went round to see their fixer, Snow, and bought up the ordinance the runners wanted. Six set about manufacturing some graphics to cover the SF truck rental logo to add credence to their cover story that they were contractors, and Sickle headed off to Screwfix to buy up overalls, tool belts and boxes, and other workman paraphernalia as their disguise.
By five o clock the runners were ready. Tools were loaded into the back of the freshly decaled hire van the runners had a cover story, and were keen to get on. Six drove them down to the underground complex, and after a bit of swift talking from Ki-Rin they drove into the underground car park of Cross Applied technologies.
Unloading the “tools” of the trade, the shadowrunners went into the maintenance area, they were met my the engineer who directed them to the power conduits that their phoney works order permitted them to work on.
Ki-Rin spotted a decker in VR who was investigating the new PAN’s that had entered the building. Ki-Rin instructed everyone to turn their PAN’s off, which they did, but then left his own PAN on as her continued to cold sim in VR.
The runners then headed for the stairs. Coming up to the next level they decided to split, so three of them carried on up the stairs, the two others stepped out and got into the lift.
Heading up the stairs, the trio came to a door, opening it they found themselves in reception. A quick talk to the receptionist they called the lift. The same lift the other two runners were in. Feigning surprise they all climbed in and Ki-Rin had a quick search for Dominic’s PAN. He found it on floor 7 and they hit the button. The doors closed, and then Ki-Rin found his active PAN being probed again. Ki-Rin decided that this decker was trouble and met him in full, hot sim, VR.
The two deckers fought for nanoseconds that passed like minutes, but Ki-Rin got the better of the Cross decker, who pulled out of the matrix all together. The Cross Applied decker then alerted security that there was a security breach.
Security on the third floor overrode the lift with a bypass card, and the lift doors opened. The runners were caught on the hop but dispatched the guards quickly. More guards descended on the lift, and a grenade was thrown. The explosion took out the guards, at which point Lone Star were called, and the security decker put a call through to Dominic.
The runners got back into the lift, which made its way up half a floor before having it’s power turned off quickly clambered out onto the roof of the lift and begun to climb the emergency ladder. Guards on the next floor jacked open the lift doors and were able to shoot at the runners. A grenade was thrown into the narrow gap, which took out the guards. Glyph was hit with the backwash but was okay.
The runners got out onto the emergency stairs and ran towards floor 7. They seemed to be being pursued but a well-placed grenade slowed this pursuit. And the runners made their way out onto the floor. The runners fanned out and were making their way passed the 1-way reflective glass offices. Six and Sickle opened the door to one of the offices and Sickle saw what appeared to be the wheels of a Steel Lynx behind a table. Not taking any chances a high explosive grenade was tossed into the room. Realisation dawned that the glass office wouldn’t offer much protection and the runners dropped prone.
The explosion tore out the glass walls showering Six, Sickle and Glyph in debris. Glyph made her way to the next office and opened the door. She saw Dominic sat there, Six and Sickle opened another door into the same office lobbed in a flash bang grenade that bounced once on the table between Glyph and Dominic
The runners fought with Dominic who used magic against them. Dominic’s flesh body was torn from the body of something more sinister beneath. The husk of Allisom. Six took aim with his gun (disguised as a drill) and fired one shot. The bullet hit Allisom’s eye and killed the spirit instantly.
The runners were hit by a vision of the Scourge. How Allisom ushers in the spirits into the world when the real and astral planes converge. The runners saw the destruction of the 4th world, and the beginning of the 5th. They saw the birth of the 6th and then they saw Dominic summon Allisom before time. The runners then saw themselves kill Dominic before being tricked by the Duke and getting killed themselves.
The runners snapped out of the trance stood around the body of Dominic. They went for the door and as the vision had shown them they saw the hologram of the Duke stood in the doorway. Six and Sickle got grenady on the soldiers who were about to surprise them through the back door and ran for the roof.
On the roof the runners saw the Duke at the helicopter. The runners opened fire, and then another grenade was deployed into he helicopter. After a brief firefight, the Duke was dead, and the runners were not. They were on the roof of Cross Applied Technologies and looking down, they saw that Lone Star had arrived. En mass.
The runners took the crippled helicopter and flew it for a tennis court about a mile away. Six remote controlled the cars to meet them there. And they made the limping flight across.
The runners evaded Lone Star for long enough to get out of Silicon Valley and back into downtown San Francisco. They headed off to see Gauge who told them that Lucien Cross, the owner of Cross Applied technologies had pulled the plug on his son’s pet project Perfect Shooter, and that the run was cancelled. The funds were still in, and the runners were still paid.
The runners headed home. Finished what had started all those weeks ago but now they could see the vestiges of astral perception hanging in their peripheral vision…
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