May 2072
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Tues May 1 2072
The issues in Roseville are receiving attention. Media attention. The rough cut of Watson's documentary is starting to have clips leaked to the Matrix - and as fast as they are shut down by japanese deckers, they are popping back up. It's hard to say who's winning, but every posting is seen by someone. Acted on by someone. The Datahaven in Denver is lighting up as they track the electronic battle. The Japanese corps really dont' want this getting out. More interesting, is many of the people involved in this little digital dustup are not even Japanese, but American or even European.
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Tues May 1 2072
A burned out school, riddled with bulletholes, a tattered and faded California State Flag hanging haphazardly from a broken flagpole.
A shallow of dirt that makes no sense - until you realize the tangle of roots is actually a maze of human limbs that have been uncovered by wind erosion.
An abandoned playground, the carrousel crushed by tank tracks.
A roadsign in Japanese, graffiti-painted with white letters that say 'ENGLISH, BITCH!'.
A traincar, standing empty and open beside an abandoned prison camp, testament to no longer being necessary.
These are some of the clips that get out during this little electronic duel being fought.
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Wed May 2 2072
It's the day for big ships to move. The USS Dunkelzhan has pulled into port at Eureka. And by 'pulled in to port' we mean, parked off shore and is sending about 10,000 UCAS Sailors ashore for shore leave. The disembarkment is being done via helo and smaller vessels, as Arcata Bay is too shallow to support the massive supercarrier, much less there being a dock large enough to tie off to. Sailors remark that the Dunk could tie off to the entire city of Eureka, but that would just drag the city with the tide.
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Wed May 2 2072
And what a time it is to be a big ship. Down in Corpus Christi, Aztlan… the USS Iowa is being readied for sail. How did Aztlan get a US battleship? You know know. The old fashioned way. They invaded the city it was docked in and stole the fragger. The story goes that the texans, the moment they seceded from the Union with the CAS, started refitting the ship. And that story is correct. When the Azzies rolled in to CC, they found themselves under fire from the largest artillery platform known to god. But all good things come to an end, and a team of Jaguar Guards took the ship after a long struggle. Something about a cook who was a Navy SeAL.
Anyway. After 30 years, they are getting ready to scrap the old broad, because they have no love for history. As such, she's being readied to sail.
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Wed May 2 2972
Meanwhile, along the border of the Awakened Mojave, observers report a sudden spike in odd tree growth. Yucca brevifolia is growing at an alarming - and curiously thick - rate all along the border. Stands of Joshua Trees, a traditional denominator of where the Mojave begins, have sprouted in a dense, thick band that follows the entire border. Some 30 meters thick in places, it's a serious impediment to casual border-crossings.
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Wed May 2 2072
Meanwhile, back on the California Coast, The Dunk has pulled out from Eureka and is headed southward at a steady clip of 20 knots an hour. This is a leisurely stroll, the sort of casual strut down the coast you do when you do not fear a single goddamn thing in valley of the shadow of death. Leaving from Eureka earlier in the day, the Carrier Battlefleet has sent word to Governor Gill that Admiral Chester Rozenfertz intends to sail into the San Francisco Bay and put to shore at Redwood City, part of the Are-controlled south bay. They should arrive in about… a day. If they stop in Mendocino to get a little crunked.
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Wed May 2 2072
"Salad, Yukon, you are clear for a Field Goal." Comes the crackling sound in Ceasar 'Salad' Jiminez's ear.
Pushing the F-92 Baslisk Air-Superiority Fighter to full military power, Salad is pressed back in his seat. "Copy that, CAG. Moving to speed, pushing to Mach 2.3."
Both planes on the CAP for the Dunk rocket into the San Francisco Bay, sonic booms trailing behind them as trails of white vaporized water curl almost lazily behind them. Traffic on the Golden Gate comes to a halt as the aircraft go through the goalposts - the two upraised pillars of the iconic 150 year old bridge.
"2 points for Uncle Sam." Calls out Chuck 'Yukon' Madic as they curl south, over Treasure Island and head down the bay.
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Thu May 3 2072
Weather Forecast satellites over the Caribbean Sea report that Tropical Storm Elliot is poised to reach hurricane strength between tonight and tomorrow - as it makes its way across Barbados. It is expected to cross over the Dominican Republic with a category 3 strength, then turn north.
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Fri May 42072
After the events in Halferville, people expected there to be an execution or a trial or something. But the Sachverstaendigenrat of Halferville has been silent. Maybe that's because SysSigError, a decker out of Seattle has identified evidence that their terrorist has escaped.. and is now in Denver? Specifically, the tip is that he's in the Warrens… and there's still that big bounty out for him.
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Fri May 4 2072
Down in Seven Hills, Leon Metzger stands on the hood of a battered GMC MPUV. The armored truck has seen better days, especially as the White Lion of Purity stomps across it. "You heard em, boys! There's a TERRORIST in this town! And if there's one thing I hate, it's a slotten terrorist! And if theres one thing I like more than bashing in a troggy skull, it's gettin paid to bring some leaf-eater to justice! GOOD JUSTICE! Let me get an OY!"
"OY!" roars his crowd of gangers.
"I SAID OY!"
"Oy!" they roar again.
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Fri May 4 2072
Down in South Sunrise, the Horsemen are out looking for that fragger with the quarter million price on his head. Gritty Dawg and Billiums are moving with some other gangers.
"Naw naw naw. I'z a use mah share ta git me some crunka an den I'z gonna get me sum snagglefoofs'n drek. Why, you gots somtin better?" Says Gritty Dawg, walking with an outlandish strut and talking with his hands.
"Yes." Says Billimus, one hand stroking down his big black trollish beard "I, my friend, have somewhat more urbane and erudite desires than you. I have /goals in life./"
"Aawww yeah? Whucha do den billy? Whacha do?"
"I, my compatriot, shall have two women. At once."
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Fri May 4 2072
Down in Fox Hollow, the Ironsiders have decided that Brother Jonathan's 5th street outreach mission is the place they know that Laz is hiding. It's a brutal fire fight, the superior firepower and coordination of the Ironsiders overcoming the Laymen deacons who were patrolling the shelter. While they don't get what they are looking for, the Ironsiders do ride off with a substantial amount of cash that the mission had been… collecting… for some reason. No one's really sure why.
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Fri May 4 2072
Meanwhile, to the north, in Shenandoah… the Nightshades are stepping up attacks on the Saints. Is it related to the bounty out on Laz's head? IS it related to the smaller gangs recent alliance to the Sinners in the north? All that is known is there is chaos in Shenandoah as the situation rapidly escalates.
As the Laymen take stock, Proctor makes a speech from the Fox Hollow Chapel, preaching not love and piety, but prayer and ammunition. The Laymen have declared war on the Ironsiders.
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Fri May 4 2072
In the Warzone, Gritty Dawg and Billimus are hunkered down behind the hulk of a city buss, long burned out. "We done gone an gone geet DAYD!" says Gritty Bill, cracking open his Roomsweeper and slapping two new shells in, to return fire at the Blackboot Skins that have them pinned down with assault rifles. "Ain' gonna have no snagglefoofs 'er no goddamn wingdangers or no pussy! Goddamn it, I can' be dyen a'fo I had mah firs' pussy o'day!"
"Remarkably salient points." says Billimus with a level sense of calmness to him as he reloads his Ingram sub machine gun. "Perhaps we might offer this argument to our friends the blackboots." He pauses a moment. "LEON! GRITTY BILL IS GONNA SLOT YOUR MOTHER!"
Gritty Bill eyes Billimus. "Ah hatechoo sometimes."
"Well. Lets go kill some people and work out your rage issues."
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Fri May 4 2072
In the Rez, literally, /in/ the Rez, there's a group of gangers that have decided that Haven has /got/ to be where Laz is hiding out. Members of the Slumdogs, they have cobbled together a little fleet of boat-car-boats. Old cars with barrels strapped to the sides and propellers welded to the driveshafts. They work. Kinda. One sinks on the way in, but four such cars make it into Haven.
But the place is mostly abandoned, it's owner having departed Denver some while back with most of his team. Looting the place, they pull out, setting fire.
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Fri May 4 2072
For years, Laz has been a fixture in the Rez: renting himself out to slummers visiting the Dungeon for a cheap thrill or some other nefarious business, or as hired protection by local business owners within the neutral zone. Whatever connections or friendships he made there must seem threadbare now, as everyone's hopes are ignited, the hope of getting the hell out of this shithole to a nice clean apartment in the CAS, becomes an easily attainable goal. Street kids, vendors, slitches, whores (snagglefoofs) and tricks alike are passing out descriptions of this character and two things keep coming up: really fragging tall Elf with a sword. That's the word the Steeltide get and where do you find an Elf hiding in the Warrens? Where the frag else, slitches? The Goddamn Warzone.
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Sat May 5 2072
Down in the warrens, two elves in Tir Llwen were drug out by bounty hunting teams and beaten to death. Blackboot Skins are said to be responsible for one of the deaths, while it looks like an internal sub gang of the Silver Thorns called the BloodyPricks was involved in the second.
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Sun May 6 2072
Down in Fox Hollow, things were already brewing with the IronSiders and the Laymen. Up in arms already, the district is pretty pissed off. It doens't take much to set things alight. In this case, it's a cross-border incursion by Lone Star. That's right. A squad of 20 men in four Mob Masters roll through the Fox Hollow Gate and into the district. They take up positions along a blind curve.
Supervising Sergeant Tim Peterson has command, but he looks nervous. He's 63 years old, and this is his last rodeo. Either this goes off as well as Sorina sold him on it, or this is the end of his career. It's a make or break moment for this 35 year veteran of the force. Scanning over the streets and the buildings, some of the training he got in the CAS Marine Corps comes back to him. Fighting in Texas, house to house in Austin. Snapping out crisp, clear orders he puts a hand to his sidearm when he hears the roar of the engines.
Demons are coming to Fox Hollow.
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Sun May 6 2072
Rice-A-Oni, the leader of this wing of the Go-Gang called the Demons, she's been fed some rumors. Looks like Brock has his ears to the ground and his tongue in the right places to get information where it needs to be. She gathered up some of her best riders and they went tearing through the warrens. Here they come, in to Fox Hollow. Chromed eyes narrow slightly as she rides - and she senses something is wrong.
But she's not really one to care. She guns the engine on her bike, roaring forward into the maw of the waiting police. It's an ambush, but the Deamons are much like honey badgers. They just don't care. What comes is a brutal battle, the sort of fight that comes once in a while, but is a good example of why the police do not come into the warrens.
Bikes skitter out of control, slamming into buildings, but the drugged up Gangers come onward like a wave. Gunshots, semi and fully automatic ring out. Calls by the police for back up go unheeded, as the police are in the warrens. The fight quickly devolves into close quarters fighting.
Supervising Sargent Tim Peterson is no slouch, he's a grizzled old veteran of war and peace as well as the veteran of the peaceful war called the FRFZ. His hands to either side of Rice-A-Oni's head, he snaps her neck. She collapses like a rag doll to the ground at his feet. 15 of his men are dead. 25 gangers are down. He feels… triumphant. Amazing. Powerful. Except for that spike of pain in his left arm. The way it travels up his arm. His hand comes to his chest as he sinks to his knees.
This.
This is a very bad place to have a heart attack.
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Sun May 6 2072
The world is full of shadows. The runners live in this twilight, the space between bright lights, the cracks of society where light never reaches. It can lead to a sense of camaraderie, a sense of us-against-them. It can make you forget that the cracks are full of mercenaries who are in this game to make money and not die in the process. Mercenaries who don't care about you - don't think you're worth a damn and will sell you out if it profits them.
The Wire, a matrix unknown with an icon like swirled, gnarled tangles of barbed wire, holds an online auction for information - solid, verified information - about the location of Lazarus 'Tonka' Jones. Bidding climbs from 1000 nuyen, swiftly to a ceiling of 30,000 nuyen. 30,000 nuyen is the value of someone's life. Their allies lives. Their home.
It doesn't take long for it to filter through the professional bounty hunters who are flocking to the area. Be on the look out for Alexandra 'Gemini' Beddleton. For Henry 'Knox' Rydell. Lazarus was seen in the Cranks not more than 10 hours ago and was maintaining a safe house.
Now is the time for fear.
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