GM: Vulcan
Players: Denver Player Base
Synopsis: Ongoing events in the Denver Game.
Date: Fall 2010
Fall Emits
Fall saw a resumption of active plotting and a return to the game of many long time players. Plotlines were resumed, new systems were tested and the game came back to its glory.
October
Cypher is able to penetrate the computers at Colorado Springs International Airport with ease. He walks among the datastacks, but its a challenge. A real white knuckler as the best in The Pueblo Grid-Sec breathe down his neck. Several times he gets tagged and sets off alarms, but is able to shake any tail. He is able to download the passenger manifest for the day of 10-19-70 for all the airlines servicing the airport and get out before he gets cornered.
Kassandra tries contacting her network, to figure out what the hells going on, but none of her ute contacts are picking up the phone. On the Ute Border, near highway 70, Roger Soaring-Eagle eyes his cellphone. He hits 'DECLINE' and then looks back to the mass of angry, angry Pueblo Residents who want back in to their nation. "I'm Sorry, I need you all to turn around and find accommodations for the night! If you don't, I'm probably going to end up shooting you."
Cypher takes his list back home and plugs it in to his decompiler. After reformatting the data in to a usable format without their proprietary mainframe software, he starts to sort the 65,304 passengers that flew out of and into CSI this afternoon. After cross referencing the data, he finds one passenger that fits his profile: Majori Bishop, age 14, and her bodyguard, Lt. Colonel Dick Ironroad. Neither arrived for their flight.
Kassandra makes a few more calls. Luckily, these actually answer their phone. That person makes a few calls, and a few more calls go out from there. The web starts to take shape and soon enough, one of the strands vibrates as information comes back down to it. The information is somewhat jumbled, with no analysis yet available, but its information none the less.
Norman puts on his best voice for cold calling - Which is to say, he sounds like the 'Can You Hear Me Now' guy. A rapid and frantic conversation with the dispatch man on the other end of the phone call reveals disquieting information about an event in Littleton before the call is summarily disconnected as the man realizes Norman doesn't want to rent a car.
Smoke turns on the Trid and sits in one of the barber chairs for Jaya's Hair and Nails. He watches for a few minutes then dials up Adalberto del Bosque, a man of unfortunately hard name to pronounce and a more unfortunate job at the moment - Pueblo Ranger. The phone rings, and rings, and rings, and finally it picks up. The stream of obscenities is enough to curl Smoke's hair. Luckily, he is in a salon.
A shadow connection is made and Kassandra reaches out in to the Matrix once again. The Venerable Wiley Coyote meets her on the Virtual Representation of the Flatirons National Park. Atop one of the peaks, the cartoon coyote looks Kass's icon over and comments. "You're prettier in real life." A short conversation ensues in which Kassandra is related a good deal of information - Sometimes, its not what you know, its who you know. But all is not well in mudville, as Wiley points out the black ichorus spiders speeding their way across the Matrix… "You may want to look to those." Says he, as he disappears from the grid. Kass is able to get away, but they have a idea who she was talking to, and who she was herself.
Up on top of the hair salon, with his 'do' restored, Smoke settles in to his lodge to throw some tarot cards. Why a Native American Shaman is throwing tarot is anyone's guess, but Smoke is sort of like that. His hair looks perfect as he lays out the Shamans Cross. The hanged man. The tower. Death. All the high notes are hit, and the story starts to unfold. Just as Smoke has his 'AH HA' moment, the candles in his lodge flame brighter, in to the form of a massive fire elemental. The battle is quick and furious, with Smoke carrying the day, though burned very badly. He sits on the floor of his charred but intact lodge… GODDAMN IT. His hair is ruined.
Smugglers! That's the ticket. Rita Rev, a Tbird pilot who operates out of Denver's CAS sector, takes a call from Knox. "Hey baby." She says, her voice sultry and hot in the cool in the Denver fall night. "Smuggling's a good business to be in right now, yeah… everyone wants in, everyone else wants out. Corps are bringing in teams to secure the their properties.. Scuttlebutt says Ares thinks the PCC is going to nationalize its holdings…"
And now Cypher shines. He has a name. He has a target. What stymies him is the lack of any real use of that name anywhere else. He finds traces, but they're scrubbed clean. But one little glimmer on the far end of the trix draws his attention. He goes at it, sliding between security deckers. He slaloms around IC like it wasn't even there. He passes through choke points like a ghost, until he finds himself, through a back door he didn't even know was there, standing in the Pueblo Corporate Council's Central Government Database. He gets noticed. But he was there. In a promised land to rival Shadowland. And then he does the only thing a sane man does. He gets the fuck out. With his data.
The unrest near the border checkpoints has reached a fever pitch, the sort of quietly boiling riots that threaten a flashpoint. Aztlan has done what Aztlan does best and simply started shooting people. Reports of several casualties are reported from that sector but its -very calm- now. The Utes are having a harder time of it, as people demand the right of free travel from a fellow STC country that is not granting it. Interestingly, there's a very calm sense from the CAS/PCC border, as the police forces there operate nearly jointly to curb any developing unrest."
Tensions out near Highway 25 as it hits the Azlan Border flair - Reports indicate that a Az-Sec VTOL strayed too close to the border and a Pueblo spirit took it down. Of course, it could also just have been an accident. Either way, the VTOL sank in the Platte River with all hands, and the Azzies are trying to get a Council Meeting called, but Falloon, Kalhiem and even Huhuseca refuse to answer."
Reports trickle in of limited reopening of the main Colorado Springs PCC/CAS border crossing, as well as mass transit routes into and out of the FTZ. Overland vehicular and airborne traffic are still strictly regimented and subject to search. Still, the move is met with relief by travelers and commuters alike."
Joker decided to head on down to the border wall and take a look around. Yep. It's a wall. There are a lot of cops too. Good times, yo. Good Times.
Not to be forgotten in the mix, but overlooked by many with the PCC troubles, the Ute Nations' internal squabbles heat up for a moment, with reports trickling in from Mead. A Ute team was sent to take down a safehouse, but found a team of Runners from Carson City. What ensued was a firefight that managed to level a block of houses and resulted in several Civilian casualties.
Jeremy Falloon, Sector-Governor and Denver Council Member for the UCAS, calls a press conference but does not give the reason why. The Council Building is filled with reporters who expect a statement on the recent PCC issues. The canny old Politician though simply smiles at the crowd and reads the entire text of a highway appropriations bill.
Hector Ramirez, the Sector Administrator for the Aztlan Sector, and its Representative on the Council, issued the following statement which ran repeatedly on NEUVO-OCHO, the primary Matrix newsfeed for the Aztlan Sector… "This border sealing is unethical! Immoral! Undemocratic! This is just yet more proof that the Pueblo Corporate Council is an illegal and unjustified government that seeks to imprison, entrap and subjugate the free-thinking Latino people under the yoke of corporate domination!" The people on the street, John Q Citizen and his girl Sally, they think this makes sense. After all, Aztechnology has such great press that people think its beloved in Aztlan. Hector wouldn't lie, would he?
Mary Cat-Dancing, the Sioux Councilor and Governor was accosted by reporters as she left her Fort Lupton Compound to drive to Denver. When pressed for the STC's response to the situation, she responded that "The Sovereign Tribal Council is aware of the issues in the Pueblo Sector right now. However, the STC has no stake in the issue as it is purely internal to the Pueblo People. We, the Sioux Nation, offer any assistance our Pueblo brothers require, of course."
A study released today by the Sovereign Tribal Council reports that logistical flow of goods in to and out of the SLC-AZ has reached just under the levels enjoyed prior to the attempted blockade by the Ute Government some months back. While investors are skittish, the SLC-AZ's economy remains strong and relatively unhampered. Ties between the SLC-AZ and Saeder-Krupp have grown deeper in that time, with several branches of the Wizwurms pet corp establishing headquarters in that domain.
Morgoth, a Troll with the IronGuard Regulars, one of the more 'paramilitary' of the gangs inside Orktown, seems to have caught a bullet to the brain pan. Word on the street is it was an Elven Sniper out of Tir Llewn, which has the boys in Orktown growling for a fight. Not like they needed much reason to go keebstomping.
Weeko makes her way to the border crossing near the FTZ. After watching the cars for several minutes, timing the way the guards move, she makes her own. Running at full speed, fades in to the background as she slides up and over the sector wall with ease. It's no real challenge for her. She lands on the other side, pressed in to a shadow. She looks around, trying to get a feel for the security and preparations made on the other side.. but her lack of training in security systems and procedures hampers her. The advanced deployment here confuses her, and she heads back over the wall.
The Rat takes the request from Knox and cracks his knuckles. 'The Rat' starts to do his info searches, drawing down data on the missing security crew. But its a little late in the game and 'The Rat' isn't a prime runner by far. He's just a guy Knox knows. He's also overly cocky. Security teams. Missing security crew. The decker slams right in to a wall of IC however. The Pueblo have drawn ranks around their fallen and are defending it harshly. The decker reels as he's dumpshocked, his deck sizzling and frying in his little rathole apartment. He did manage to get a name though. Lt. Colonel Dick Ironroad, Pueblo Special Forces. This was the lead of the targets security detail. He and his entire team were killed, the target taken.
Eli MacManus is the classic shadowrunner. Maybe not classic, as most devout catholic's don't run the shadows unless their Jesuits. Father Worth, up in Fort Lupton gives Eli the contact number for Deacon Rex Manning down in Fox Hollow. Deacon Manning sends Eli across the wall, carrying a package of an undisclosed nature.
Stephan Demetrius, an intel Analyst with the Supreme Soviet Command of Russia, takes a call in the middle of the night from Norman. "Eh… Comrade! Is good to hear .. Indians? Why for Stephan care about savages halfway around globe? Bah! Shamans in Siberia are focus for Internal Secretat! I got nothing for you, friend. Very sorry.
Kassandra starts collating data from a variety of sources. As it happens, this is easier than she thought it would be, what with the upsurge in activity of clandestine logistical activity of a cross-border nature. Most people seem to be flying commuters who just want to get home quicker. But talking with several contacts she is able to put together a picture of the routes people are using, the guards which are looking the other way and the ones who are not. She also gets a profile on what the guards are actually looking for.
The shores near the Platte River were lit up this evening as one of the Pueblo Corporate Council's Security craft caught fire and exploded just around 9:15 MST. A grass fire is well underway and three fire support vehicles and sixteen drones are in route to the blaze. With weather conditions relatively dry in that area, the blaze has the potential to cause catastrophic damage to nearby homes.
Smuggler channels light up suddenly, with warnings going out to all the known players and then trickling down to others… The PCC is responding to a group of terrorists that are operating in the north. Radios are all being scanned and listened too, decryption is being deployed and magical assets are on the scene.
Arrests were made near Sheridan in the PCC as terrorists attacked PSE forces in an attempt to disrupt traffic and cause internal strife. Elements of the Fifth Awakened Unit and the Blackfire strike team were able to repel the terrorists, capturing six. Four were found near River Point in Sheridan, apparently attempting to poison the water supply. Two others were engaged in shooting down vehicles, with Officer Michael Twoyoungmen in critical condition.
Scuttlebutt leaks out in to the shadows. The PCC Blackfire Special Ops team captured two magical terrorists near Sheridan where it meets the Platte River. While officials are making no official statements, anonymous sources indicate they will be held liable for the injuries to Officer Twoyoungmen and the loss of the Pueblo Security Patrol Craft. The individuals are being held in heavy isolation and guard at the Colorado Springs Max-Sec facility, on the grounds of former Fort Logan.
Word on the street is the clientele at the Higher Altitude is laying bets on the fates of the two runners captured in the Pueblo Corporate Council last night. 3/1 odds say it will be an execution, while the dark horse of 10/1 says the two runners will be forced to fight to the death.
Seen only in a single video frame, the magically active adept called Salvatore, known to be a Prime Runner for Aztechnology was seen standing atop the Zuni Gate. The Zuni Gate is the primary gate on Colfax, and is the most trafficked gate in the network and services FTZ/PCC traffic.
The Draco Foundation announced that it will, in accordance with the timing and wishes of President Dunkelzhan, issue 100 SIN's to randomly selected denizens of the Warrens of Denver. A foundation Rep indicated that the SIN's will be issued via lottery and include an educational stipend to allow the receiver to join society as a tradesman in the field of their choice. While no details have been released as to how the SINs will be distributed, con-men in the warrens are already advertising services to get the desperate on 'the list'.
Gunfire breaks out in The Warzone, during the funeral rites for Morgoth of the IronGuard Regulars. What had been a procession from The Rez to OrkTown goes wrong, when a car full of Velvet Runway up-town Posers roars through the area. The Velvet Runway gangers took fire, then shot back. Then things just got out of hand. (THE WARZONE IS ACTIVE. ANYONE ENTERING IS SUBJECT TO GETTEN SHOT. ALTERNATELY, THERE IS LOOT TO BE HAD. IF YOU ARE BRAVE ENOUGH, COME ON DOWN AND VULCAN WILL FIGURE OUT WHAT HAPPENS.)
A sudden storm, centered over the Warzone springs up. At first, it was rain, and then suddenly… snow. Gangers are baffled, but hell, there's killing to be done. Two of the Velvets are dead, two are pinned down while the #blue|Saru-Men## approach them.
The situation in the Warzone turns to the weird when the rain turns to driven snow and sleet. The Saru-men are under attack by an elemental, Pigeon has been shot by gangers and everyone is generally confused as to whats happening - Except for the Velvet Runways. They know exactly whats going on. Everyone and everything in the warrens is trying to kill them. Their car is upside down, two of them are dead, there's a gang of orks trying to kill them and people sneaking up on them. Everyone and everything is a threat. And they are not wrong.
Dalton, arriving on the scene in the Warzone, quickly and efficiently extracts Pigeon from the situation. The mage takes a round to the shoulder, but hardly seems to notice as he removes the injured man.
The storm in The Warzone continues unabated until morning, where in it dissipates as rapidly as it came. Flooding is widespread in the warzone, as people are forced from the basements and hollows they hide in during the night. Drowning is reported in several cases as the insistent, persistent storm causes intense runoff. Kassandra and Mr. Terrific manage to rescue the two living members of Velvet Runway, resulting in stronger ties for both to that well funded poser gang.
A minor earthquake was detected on seismographic sensors in the Denver FRFZ. Epicentered 6 miles down, directly under Cherry Creek Reservoir, the 5.6 Temblor had no reported damaging effects.
Salacious Grim, a local crime fixture in The Rez's Marketplace, was found dead floating in the Quincy Reservoir. His body had been badly beaten, with his fingers all severed. Into his chest were carved the words 'SINner'. KE will not be investigating, and local gangs are reportedly not exactly sad to see it happen.
Knox walks in to Angels Delight, in the warrens district of Shenandoah. He spreads a little money around and asks a few questions about Salacious Grim. He gets more than he bargained for when one of the biggest, meanest looking humans he'd ever seen in his life gets up from a back table, folds his arms across his chests and proclaims loudly that -he- killed Grim and asks Knox if he wants to make something of it? Knox takes the information and declines to press an issue.
Dirty Jake, a mid-level ganger in the Brat'mael Cirollers, was found on the border of the Warzone and Tir Llwen with knives sticking out of his organs in alphabetical order. He didn't have any gang patches on, and it looks like they may have been ripped off. Which is problematic, as the Brat'mael Ciroller's tend to tattoo them on.
Buster Keets, a down on his luck bounty hunter of the Stumpy Variety, wanders in to Twilight, a bar in the Tir Llwen neighborhood of the Warrens. He asks around about the various people supposed to be hanging out. Everyone in the bar shares a look for a moment, that seems to escape Buster. They then, in all earnestness, tell him that the Twins just went to The Rez to buy some Blinker Fluid for their Americar. Buster tips well, buys a round for the patrons, then hustles over to The Rez.
The adventures of Buster Keets continue as he travels to The Rez. His motorcycle throws a chain in The Warzone and he has to leave his precious hog. Not because he can't fix it, but because The FeckSticks, a Humano-centrist gang affiliated with the BlackBoots have decided its pretty and they would like to shove it up the Halfer's ass. Buster is pretty fast though, for a stumpy, and makes way to the Rez as quickly as he possibly can.
Finally in The Rez, Buster Keets, the hapless dwarven bounty hunter gets to The Marketplace. He inquires at a few locations about Blinker Fluid, each time the merchant stares at Buster. Finally, one takes pity on the poor Halfer and leans down. "Chummer, I know where you can find Blinker Fluid.. but first, I need me some Tazer Bullets. Now, if you go down to Torturer Bill in Mission Hills, you can find him at The Dungeon, then he can tell you where to get Tazer Bullets. Tell him Kirkman sentcha.
Buster Keets finally gets over to Mission Hills. He has to ask around around about The Dungeon, but a pair of joygirls in stiletto heels are more than happy to oblige him with the information in return for 200 nuyen. Running low on time and feeling like he's making real progress on the Twins, he pays them for their time and they send him across the street. He doesn't even have time to feel foolish as he praises his luck. Down stairs he goes, looking for Torturer Bill. Bill's at his usual place, behind the bar. Keets steps over and explains he's looking for Tazer Bullets. Bill returns that you need an ID 10t form to get Tazer Bullets, but he's fresh out. Bill helpfully sends Keets to meet with Red, the leader of Shape13 over in Smoky Hills.
Red seems vastly amused by Buster Keets as the dwarf requests, as politely as he can while held up in the air by an unamused asian troll… for an ID 10t requisition form for Tazer Bullets. "Look. I can give you the form, but I'm down to my last one. So what I need from you, is for you to head over to the Sticks. I have a house out there, and I need you to appease the spirits of my ancestors. They must know I respect them. You must stand in the house and shout 'Ayama Meelphoru.'. Got it? 'Ayama meelphoru.'" Buster, let down by the troll, readily agrees.
Buster Keets eyes his GPS unit as he wanders through the forest of The Sticks. He feels like he's been stumbling around in circles for hours, with branches slapping at him, roots tripping him and other such dangers of the woods. Finally, he comes to a clearing with a medium sized house. Curiously, the house seems to be in perfect condition, despite the surroundings. A manicured lawn, two car garage and even a selection of children's toys across the front yard. He walks to the house, finding the door open. Entering, he looks around and calls out a few greetings. When no one answers, he moves in to the front room. "Well. This is stupid." He mutters to himself, then says… "Ayama Meelphoru." Nothing happens. He looks around with a curious eyebrow raised. "Ayama MeelPhoru?" He asks curiously.
"Close enough." says Shank, his white, milky white and soulless eyes flashing in the darkness. No one ever sees Buster again.
Smith has a quick conversation with Keegan, the owner and operator of The Cybered Arms, a cyber-freak bar in The Rez. Long a nexus of runners and information, it seemed like a good place to start when investigating rumors of Bounties to be had. After a quiet conversation, Smith seems pleased and slides Keegan a cool Grand and then buys a beer.
Stonewall, a highly cybernetic troll once known for bodyslamming a Juggernaught, was seen tonight staring across the road from Orktown into The Sticks. He stood there for several hours… then simply walked in to the woods. No one has seen him since, and most feel they never will again.
A black Americar pulls up at Arapaho Gate in the CAS sector, leading to the Warrens. The door opens and Joker, dressed in non-descript street clothing, is shoved from the car. The CAS guards, all LoneStar employees, stand aside as Joker makes the walk of shame back to the Warrens. Rumors are abuzz - two men got pinched and one walked out. That usually says one of them sang… and its never the one they hold.
Meanwhile, in Washington F.D.C…. Vice President Daviar steeples her fingers, looking at the trid screen. Jeremy Falloon stares back at her. "Look, honey…" quips Falloon… "Vice President Daviar." Interrupts the VP. "Look Vice President Honey. I don't give two dreks what you or your foundation want. I'm out here on the wild fragging edge keeping the Red Man at bay and giving your administration distractions on command. I am not going to disrupt my personal relations with Pope for some goddamn grab at his daughter. You scan me? I hope you do, cause this line is destablizing. Hear it? Chhhhzzt. Chhhhzzzzt." Daviar seems unimpressed. "This is a video call. I can see you making those noises." She remarks dryly. "Yeah. I know. It's my special way of telling you how much I care." Retorts Falloon as he disconnects the call.
Kassandra gets a few calls. A few very interested calls from across the city. All of them want to know about Sipharos. Who is he? Where is he from? What's this mission for 1,000,000 nuyen? That's a lot of money to throw around. Kassandra opens up her virtual Rolodex. Sipharos… Sipharos… no, thats Syphalor, a nice guy out of Anchorage, but don't touch him. Sipharos. Oh. Sipharos, out of Saint Louis! She pulls his number out of a friend of a friend without even trying. All in a days work for one of Denver's most connected people.
Well holy shit. The Cherry Creek Rangers report with some growing dismay that around 12:00 PM this afternoon, a small astral rift appeared in the center (and underwater no less) of the Cherry Creek National Park, in the CAS Sector. The Draco Foundation's Denver Laison, in cooperation with Elizabeth Kalheim of the CAS, have declared that the rift is of no cause for concern, and was mentioned in secret clauses of the Dragons Will. At approximately 6:00PM local time, the rift will expand to envelop the entire National Park and will persist until sunrise the following morning. People already flock to the park, overwhelming security, anticipating everything from President Dunkelzhan's return to a pretty light show to a mugging.
The Astral Rift currently forming in the Cherry Creek National Park expands dramatically, a bubble of astral space opening that extends above the water line. It comes to within a hundred feet of the shoreline, and is opaque - it functions as a ward of some kind, preventing entrance in or out by spiritual or astral beings.. and obscures physical vision as well.
Revelers partaking in the astral phenomena taking place at Cherry Creek National Park in the CAS Sector were jolted by a strong, localized earthquake. Measuring 6.0 on seismographs, it caused no structural damage due to its localized nature, but set off car alarms and disturbed wildlife.
The scene at Cherry Creek National Park is one of electrified curiosity - The appearance of four Great Dragons (Identified as Hestaby, Ryumyo, Lofwyr and Sirrug) was cause for alarm, but they appeared only in the astral, coming into and leaving the massive rift by astral means. A ritual of some sort was had, in which three dracoforms were brought forth from the reservoir. Observers from MIT&T have remarked on the curious scale patterns on the three younger draco forms - patterns very closely matching the placement and hue of the late President Dunklezhan.
Klaxons chirp, indicating something is amiss along the PCC Sector/PCC Nation border. Two high speed vector thrust drones are deployed from a hangar in Manitou Springs to investigate, with another pair of heavier drones sent to act as support if needed, while two a tilt wings and an APC are prepped to leave. The drones are in the air for less than three minutes before contact is lost with them. The tilt wings leave, and similarly vanish from sensors. A glitch in deployment protocols sends a call for more drones and vehicles to be sent again just before the APC vanishes, as well. An attack tilt wing is then prepped to leave, with a full squad of PSE Security on board. It vanishes, as well, along with it's 4 escort drones.
November
Out on Highway 470 as it passes the far edge of Orktown in the Warrens, chaos breaks loose. Someone gave the trolls a metric drekton of MISSILES. They launch them from the buildings and high points with abandon. The highway is quickly a charred, burning wasteland as missiles slam in to big rigs, passenger cars and everything in between. Knight Errant is quick to deploy several FRT's to the area, and casualties are high. 34 Travelers are dead in the attack, both from explosions and from the chain reaction pileups that snarled the road.
Responding at a press conference, Jeremy Falloon said that he had directed Commissioner Stacie Hattfield of Knight Errant Denver to conduct a full and complete investigation into the H-470 massacre. Commissioner Hattfield promised swift reaction and a brutal crackdown on arms dealers and smugglers who are supplying the gangs of the Warrens with heavy ordinance.
A hushed call is placed by persons anonymous to the Velvet Runways, a glam-gang who are more Uptown than the Warrens. The warning comes a few minutes early, which is good, because after they manage to decamp into the CAS Sector of Colorado Springs for a little skiing weekend, a Knight Errant Denver FRT crashes through the ceiling of their favorite condo. One Aztlan maid is arrested, anything breakable is broke, and the ceiling needs repair… but the Velvet Runways just aren't there.
Mr Falloon?" asks Sandra Miller, secretary to UCAS Sector Governor Jeremy Falloon. "Yes?" asked Falloon, not looking up from a UCAS Marine Corps quartermasters report detailing the 'loss' of several crates of LAW rockets last year. "There's a fruit basket here for you." Said Sandra, somewhat uncertainly. "Is it explosive fruit?" Rejoined Falloon, nonplussed. "No sir, it's been swept. It's Apples, Pears, Oranges, a Kiwi, a pound of Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee and a Kumquat." This, gets Jeremy's attention and he looks up. "How oddly specific.""
False-dawn comes to ##FF6633Arapaho Airfield##, to the east of the city. Used by Knight Errant Denver for its airborne operations, it's always busy. The black VTOL sits on the tarmac under bright floodlights, casting fractured shadows. It's engines are spooling up, a whine reverberating. This is not a patrol craft. It's an assault craft, the KE Interdictor. Off on the far side of the airfield, a pair of Yellowjackets are powering up their engines. FRT 21 (The PileDrivers) walks that slow walk to the VTOL, combat helmets under their arms, weapons slung from shoulder straps. "Lets go boys. It's time to curbstomp a trogg." Says Captain Jack Stanton, a middle aged human with one good eye, and one Cybernetic. "Racist." counters Sgt. Andre Mercado, the very troll, very large heavy weapons specialist as they step in to the vehicle.
The Interdictor approaches the central area of Orktown, its side doors sliding open. "Alright! By the numbers. It's just SINless down there, and they're all hostile! So don't hold back if someone looks dangerous!" The craft comes to a hover, with the two gunships running a circle about the hovering Interdictor. All 6 men of the team kick ropes out and then rappel down to the roof top. The access door is kicked in by Andre without a word. Aside from the surprisingly quiet sound of the turbines overhead, there is no noise. They move with quiet, competent precision. These men are professionals.
On the top floor, one of Da Bridge's regulars, a troll by the name of Grimshack comes out of his room to go for a midnight snack. It's the wrong moment as he comes out in to the hall, zipping up his fly, to be surrounded by six armor clad men with glowing green eyes and weapons all pointed at him. He moves to raise his hands, but this is taken as an aggressive sign. Grimshack stumbles back as two assault rifles open up, their flash and sound heavily suppressed. No brass rains down as disintegrating shellcasings are used. Andre and Corporal Lance Turner move to drag Grimshack's body in to his apartment. That done, a selection of hand-gestures later has they are moving down the hall again.
The team moves down by the numbers, each member moving like the perfectly oiled machine that they have trained to be. Down a floor, into the hall, and they are there. Jacoby moves first, attaching a lockbreaker to the door and decisively scrambling the electronics. As a single piece FRT 21 - The PileDrivers take the room, with controlled bursts eliminating two of the three trogs in the room, anti-armor rounds cutting through the men like a hot knife through a troll. The other is downed with a gesture from Elizabeth Runningwolf, the team mascot and shamanic asset. Six seconds later the perp is bound and on his way back upstairs. Elapsed mission time: 49 seconds. As the clock hits 1:02, the Interdictor lifts off and makes its way back across the warrens for Arapaho Airbase.
The midday bustle brings the rumors to The Rez's Souk Marketplace, the central commercial district of the Warrens. People talk with fear about black helicopters, Government strike teams, the death of Grimshack and the Crangsticks central leadership core. Some people talk about how Muggualug is missing, and what he may be telling the people in the black helicopters.
December
Deep in the Downtown District, the unthinkable happens. Ave Maria, a high end jewelry store erupts into chaos as a panic button is hit, shotgun blasts ring out, glass shatters and blood spills. Two gunmen flee the scene in a stolen Americar, with one hostage. Eagle Security Services, the Sioux Nation's security provider reports that before its units could mobilize, the perpetrators made it across jurisdictional lines in the FTZ, and organizing a multi-jurisdictional task force took 35 seconds longer than normal.
Knight Errant Watch Commander Theodor Gill reports that the Ave Maria robbers have been apprehended near the Old Fairgrounds in the UCAS portions of the FTZ. Unfortunately, all the suspects were killed in a vicious gun battle that left two officers wounded. Knight Errant has declined to state if the Jewels, valued at 2.5 million Nuyen by the store, have been recovered.
The North American Weather Service reports that a thunder cell has formed over Wovoka, Ute Nation and has persisted unnaturally for the better part of the day. The NAWS news brief calls the formation 'paranormal' and outside the scope of thermal dynamics as they are understood. Wovoka is named for the Paiute Shaman, Wokova, who is buried there. Wokova is best remembered for developing the Ghost Dance in the late 1880s.
Janie loads up some Googletrix and goes to Weather.mtx. She punches in the data for Wokova, Ute Nation and stares at it for a long few minutes. It seems like a thundercell right over the area, fed live by a weathersat. Then… a flicker. A little bit of a glitch as the animation of the storm over the town resets itself to an earlier chrono.
Tammy Tucker, a reporter with NewsNet picks up the phone when Pulse calls. She spends several minutes rattling down the information she has. The phonelines are down, a newsnet chopper sent by the Fernley branch experienced engine trouble and had to land some 20 miles from the town, drones sent in all go offline and fall out of the sky. It's like Technology in the area is just -off- for about a 20 mile radius around the town.
Doctor Allen Young of the SLC-AZ's Brotherhood of Nephi takes a call from Janie. He met her once in passing, but she did the Slack-Ass a good turn. "Oh. Yeah. That. We got a report of a MS-D convoy of heavy equipment headed out to Wokova. Something about a removal. I don't have any details, as the town went off the grid a little while later.
Tracer meets with Marcia Brown over the trix at a seedy bunraku brothel in a Seattle LTG. She looks like a school girl, he looks like a salariman. It looks perfectly normal to anyone else who observes. They negotiate the price of the meeting, and Tracer is able to force Marcia to pay a bit more than anticipated. Who's the whore here? After a few preliminaries, they call the meet off, with Tracer's salariman shoving the virtual table back and storming off. A pair at the next table over stare, to which Marcia replies… "No do anal."
He's good, Tracer. Norman lucked out when Maria hired this guy. Just a man in town, looking of work to carry him further into the Ute Nation for reasons all his own, Tracer took the job with little hesitancy. "Hey, Jetwash, this is Tracer. I need a ride over to the Cashe in north Nellis. Can you get that today, or I needa find another rigger?" Jetwash snorts, but tells Tracer to be at the old Arapaho Racetrack later that night for an insertion. /rimshot
Tracer hits the ground running in the northern expanse of the former Nellis Bombing Range. A place littered with hidden, forgotten and abandoned bunkers, it's a great place to stash things, if you know how to avoid the Apache. He looks over the cashe's contents. A Lockheed-Chenowith light strike vehicle, several barrels of fuel, rations and a massive amount of highly illegal weaponry. "I swear to god, I love my job.
The Pulse is a connected man. He sets up a phone call with Capo Aspanu Innocenti, Mafia boss of Denver. It takes a few minutes, as one does not just call Aspanu directly and chat like buddies. But the call is unfortunately lacking in fruit. The Boss of Bosses has no interest in the affairs of the Ute Nation.
Connected and persistent is The Pulse. Calling Lt. James Garden of Knight Errant Security Services, he quickly learns that Knight Errant's contracts in the Ute Nation are limited to the SLC-AZ, the LVCE and a handful of border towns. There's no specific linking to the events in Wovoka.
Rita Rev, a local fixture on the T-Bird Scene, takes a call from Knox. "No, I don't know shit about that. I was gonna run a Reno-Denver route, but I'm just sliding down to Santa Fe/Los Angeles Tri-legger instead. I hear there's some shit going down, where JammSpammer nearly went down to the north. His electronics went wierd and his flybywire nearly put him in a mountain. Luckly, he can deadstick a dead cat.
Tracer's headlights illuminate the unending expanse of Nevadan desert before him as he heads north across the Ute Nation from his insertion point. Jetwash dropped him off last night near a supply cashe, and he's been running all night. It's nearly dawn when he spotted the thermal signatures on the small light strike vehicle's sensor array. Tracer always did spring for good gear. It's saved his ass more times than not.
It was touch and go through a box canyon, as four Apache on motorcycles were harassing him. It's the usual badlands meeting of the poor and mobile with the rich and fool hardy. They wanted his goods, he wanted to not give it to them. It was an exchange that ended only when the canyon opened up enough to let Tracer spin the Chenowith LSV around. Slapping the tranny into neutral, he was able to roll backwards with the same speed as he had been moving forwards. He murmured a silent thanks to his Mitsuhama Cybernetics 302-B Ultrasonic vision system and unloaded a clip into the nearest Apache. They broke off their pursuit as the quarry had teeth, and he slung the vehicle back around to ride into the sunrise.
Confusion and shock hit the Boston Stock Exchange today as hosts nearly crashed 30 seconds before the lunch break. A sudden push of trading activity taxed the system but did not bring any failures. Trading was halted as normal for the lunch period and will resume without delay at 2:00PM EST. Initial review of the activity indicates it was legitimate trading activities that simply came in higher volume than anticipated, across a wide selection of companies. Corporations that experienced higher than usual volume include Espirit Arms, Garrison Industrials, Gunderson Liquidations and Maersk-Sealand. A full report is expected at closing bell.
Knox is in the know. He sends a call out to The Rat, a decker of ill repute, and then calls up a few of his saraimen friends. A thousand nuyen and some dry martinis later, he learns that everything about the tizzy this morning seems legit: someone really good is just pulling some strings and moving pieces about like a game of Xanatos Speed Chess. The Rat doesn't bother to explain the reference. No prior connection between Espirit Arms, Garrison Industrials, Gunderson Liquidations, and Maersk-Sealand seems to exist.
Tracer peers over the ridgeline, 15 miles from Wovoka, through the binoculars. "Ain't this some horse shit." he murmurs… Opening up the comline, he dials Maria. "Yeah. I'm here, lookin down the hill, and there is some crazy ass bullshit happening here. I'm 15 miles back from the perimeter, and this is as close as I can get a sat-com signal to call you. Ute Military is crawling all over the place, but there looks like there's civilians gathering as well.
At the closing bell of the Boston Stock Exchange, it becomes clear that the shenanigans of earlier were legal, simply fast paced and coordinated. There appears to be clear monitory records and while bent, no laws were broken. At the end of the day, small chunks of various A and AA corporations were traded back and forth across many different shells, before condensing in to a single trade that transferred those accumulated assets to Novatech Incorporated in return for 36 percent of voting stock in TransWarp Systems, a AA based matrix corporation based in The Denver FRFZ. The receiving corporation is listed as 'Huckleberry Holdings', a corporation based out of The Bahamas, Caribbean league.
Tracer continues his surveillance of Wovoka, Ute Nation. He left the Chenowith-Lockheed LSV a few miles back, in the mouth of an abandoned mine and approached on foot. His position on Mt. Walker, looking down over Wovoka Valley, gives him a pretty good view of of things. A small fort made of snow hides his thermal signature pretty well. The Ministry of Self Determination has drawn a perimeter around the town, but the video that Tracer relays back to Maria seems to show the men in suits arguing with the men in BDU's. At one point, a man in BDU's that the other soldiers seem to follow, gets into an argument with a man in a suit. After a few minutes of shouting, the man in BDU's is arrested by his own soldiers.
Roman Johnson takes a call from Air. The Mormon fundamentalist chats with Air for a while, talking about his kids (all 34 of them) and his wives (6 of them) and his dogs (Unsure how many he's got now, they keep birthing) and how he's got his eye on this little honey down in Atlanta. After a while, the conversation comes around to business. "The relations between Huhuseca and Iron-Eyes? Drek, Air, thats like fire and water. One's a Ute shaman, ones a Comanche Warrior. They could not be more different. Way I hear it, Iron-Eyes has been ruthlessly purging the Ute Government of dissident, and he's moved on to the Military now. It's not big, Ute Defense Force, but it's got a lot of support coming in from Japanese Corps now and its funding has expanded almost exponentially. If Iron-Eyes had his way, all the enclaves in the Ute Nation like the SLC-AZ, the LVCE and the Denver FRFZ Ute Sector would be reconquered and the rights of the people there taken back…"
Honda Katsumori of Yamatetsu takes a call from Air. Air's a chatty guy, isn't he? The conversation is direct and to the point with very little chatter to the side. Honda is not known for his easy demeanor or interest in smalltalk. "Renraku, Shiawase and MTC are pouring money into the Ute Nation, but not as much as they pour in the Imperial Protectorate of California. Yamatetsu intel thinks they are trying to force a lever against the Pueblo Corporate Council for when the Japanese finally finish their pogrom against the metahumans in California. We've been funneling money and arms to the BlackRock Orks to offset this, and keep the Ute somewhat in contest. Not much we can do though, it's far from our base of operations."
Tracer's position is almost discovered when a VTOL with markings of the Ministry of Self Determination buzzes his ridge line. He hunkers down, killing the low power battery packs he's using to keep his gear running, and the VTOL moves onward. Tracer's eye-cam snaps away, filling his headware memory with still images of the VTOL, including the side where the markings are. It's clearly they were recently painted over some other symbols, but he can't figure them out for himself. He quickly uploads them via his Sat-Link, sending them to Maria, who passes them on to Norman, her client.
Knox just can't get the stock market out of his head. He calls Quentin Fuentes up and gets to the point as soon as his account dings. "Oh, yes- I've heard about it. The buyout was very well timed: most skillfully done. Someone wanted a piece of Transys, and knew the moves to make to get it. Unfortunately, that is all I have been able to ascertain… the records of Huckleberry Holdings are offshore, and inaccessible for me." As Knox comes away nearly empty-handed, he's left doing his own diligence. Transwarp Systems is a well-known company, big in matrix licensing. They are skilled at coming up with cutting-edge techniques, and own the Transwarp Pyramid in Downtown Denver. Not a AAA by any means, but definitely a player.
Norman's video feed zooms in on a growing altercation between Ute Military Forces and what looks to be a paramilitary arm of the Ministry of Self-Determination just outside of Wovoka, Ute Nation. The camera gets shakey for a moment as gunfire erupts. "Oh drek! Drek drek drek!" Says the audio feed, Tracer's voice suddenly concerned. The video stays stable however, as he does his job professionally. The Ute Soldiers are quickly and efficiently overwhelmed by the MSD soldiers in the firefight, but things look to turn south when civilian police and locals seem to be about to get involved.
As the setting sun starts to dip below the horizon, the skies will retain a fading silver/pink hue even after dark. The full moon shines brightly over the city, tinged with a reddish glow around the edges. The air itself seems almost alive as the winds pick up after dark, and in some places, it feels as if there are voices speaking in the night just out of range.
Strange haps down near the Bare Knuckle Gym, over in South Central. Seems a mojo slinger called Dalton took some umbrage to the training techniques of Watson. A spell and a growled conversation later, and no one was dead (Which is remarkable in itself), but Dalton came to be known as unwelcome. Regulars of the Gym grumble about the disrespect, but it's not like the Pulse has any pull with the Crimson Smoke.
Jimmy Hellfire of the Demons has obtained a new bike. And not just any old set of wheels- we're talking a fully customized Harley-Davidson Electroglide complete with a hardpoint for his equally new Steyr AUG in assault rifle mode. He's not telling where he got it, but he's certainly the envy of all his buds all of a sudden, and his slitch Ruby Rue is sporting a fine new rock on her hand.
Speaking at the Winter Solstice observance at MIT&T, Ehran 'The Scribe', director of the Dunklezhan Institute of Magical Research, exhorted the crowd to learn from history, but look to the future, for it is in the future that hope lives. "History is our terrible conscience. It cuts us open and shows our greatest mistakes. It never reminds us that we can only do our best with the knowledge we have.
It's a good week to be friends with Jimmy Hellfire - he has so far thrown at least one major party every day, with booze, drugs and feminine company available in both quantity and quality. The Demons' usual check points and raiding seems almost non-existent, since three quarters of the gang is either partying or recovering from the hangover from last night's party…
Jimmy Hellfire and his bosom pal, Jake Lightning, are getting absolutely drekfaced, sitting in the back of the RackHouse, a roadbar on the outskirts of the CAS sector. Jake listens attentively and appreciatively to Jimmy as the latter goes on at length about this awesome find. "A ton of jewels, man. Like, an entire shop's worth or somethin'. Sold them off to Pickett for nearly a mil… I'm fecken -set- bro, and I'm taken you with me. My best chummer." Jake and Ruby exchange a serious look, unseen by the much drunker Jimmy.
The body of Jimmy Hellfire is found face down in the gutter, the chrome-plated combat knife he'd bought for his pal Jake still sticking out from between his ribs. Neither Jake Lightening, Ruby Rue or Jimmy's awesome new bike can be found anywhere. Jimmy's squat over on Arapaho has been ransacked, and there floorboards were pried up. Such is life in the Warrens - nasty, violent, and generally short.
Tensions in Wovoka, Ute Nation have spilled over to nearby Yerington and Fallon. Local tribal Militias for the Paiute Nation have started gathering in response to the Ministry of Self-Determination's actions at Wovoka. Military command in the area has broken down, according to reports, as commanders choose sides. At the center of the issue, was the Ministry's decision to unearth the body of Wovoka himself and transport his remains to Provo, for a more 'fitting' memorial. The township of Wovoka itself remains sealed off, a manastorm centered over the area and no technology seeming to work in its vicinity.
Cypher does some digging. Turns out, Transwarp Systems is a very solid performer this year. Maybe more solid than anyone knows. The only thing they've been lacking is strong leadership… too much squabbling over the money up in the executive boardroom has slowed down some very profitable moves."
"As the night grows colder, a strange wind picks up through Denver. Sharp ears can almost pick up voices on it: pained, twisted voices, whispering no words the waking mind can understand. The wind whips from the north first, then the south, then the west, then the east: each corner bringing more biting misery that seeps in through even the thickest winter wear. Some say they can even see faces in it: faces of the long departed, long forgotten, whispering warnings that none can understand. The feeling can't be shaken: Winter is coming, and death walks by its side."
Open fighting has broken out in Yerington, Ute Nation. Some 10 miles from Wovoka, it's become the staging ground for Government activities around that sealed off town. Militias of the Paiute Nation, a tribal member to the Ute Nation, have been bolstered by the defection of several dozen Ute Soldiers who refused to carry out their orders. They oppose the Ministry of Self Defense's actions and the disregard for local authority, law or chain of command. Unless this situation is backed down, a full scale civil war could be in the mix.
The Laymen hold a mass attended by the leaders of every major gang, and throughout the Warrens, not one person got shot from sunrise Christmas eve day to Sunrise on Christmas morning. Not one.
The airspace above the Aztlan Sector is currently a declared no-fly zone, so it's no real surprise when a T-Bird trying to get the hell away from the Pueblo Security Services gets blasted out of the sky as it comes over the city. Fraggen Zot man, there was no chance. Just hit by like, two missiles at once. What's really interesting though, is the Tbird was loaded to the GILLS with NovaCoke. The Bird made it to the far side of the Aztlan sector before it was hit, so there's like… 4 square miles of downtown thats just… coated… in a fine mist of NovaCoke.
It's a bad day to be committing crime in Denver. Knight Errant - Denver, without needing to garrison the Warrens so heavy today, is able to deploy its troops more effectively. As such, when Lucky Eddy and Hamiliton Jefferson Fiver rob the CashStash Payday Loan office on Colfax and Colorado, they don't get too far before the cops are on them. What happens however, due to light traffic and a little pre-planning is sacks of cash are thrown out the windows of their 2054 Red Corvette as they run. People all across the metro plex turn out to see the high speed chase, and hope to get a sack of cash thrown their way.
Somewhat predictably, the chase ends in Colorado Springs with an anti-tank missile as they try to run the border into the Pueblo Corporate Council.
Gunfire rips across the night at the border between Orktown and Tir Llwen. Hardly unusual, but tonight it's exceptionally vicious- and the sound of exploding rockets is hard to miss. Rumor has it, that the push is coming from the Tir side- but what are they after?"
Knox leaps into action, hitting the streets. A few bent ears and bouts of fast-talk later, he learns that the Silver Thorns launched a sudden attack on the Orktown border tonight- using extreme force, such as LAW rockets and machine guns.
Knox calls his ex-girlfriend, Rita Rev. After bitching him out for half an hour, she tells him that her new boytoy, CaptainAwesome, had a rush-delivery order on a case full of Anti-Vehicle Rockets this very evening… and was paid with a platinum credstick by a mysterious elf in Tir Llwen. She also mentions that at least his career is going somewhere, and he never stays out all night at the Catacomb Club.
Holtzclaw is on top of the scene, hanging out in the Little Tir already. Man, it's a mess over there, and tongues are wagging. Word is, somebody snatched up a couple of teenagers from Tir Llwen earlier today… some gifted finger-wagglers. The Silver Thorns moved on OrkTown not 2 hours after the disappearance.
The Bee-Side calls up the opposite of The Sinners, The Saints, and see's what's up with the down. He learns that the saints are standing clear: even Gabriel, their leader, was caught off guard. He thinks it has something to do with the mage press-ganging that's been sweeping the Renz, lately… several gangs are snatching up whatever spellcasters they can find, but not even he knows why.
The Meddling Medaron calls up the Magnificent Maya, eager to hear the scoop. After some small talk, she remarks that the Silver Thorns sent out some calls for heavy weapons and reinforcements tonight, for, apparently, a strike against orktown… but the Horsemen, manning the lines, were caught with their proverbial pants down.
The Devious Dalton does his thing, and he learns a few details. The mages are being abducted mostly by the Silver thorns, Shape 13, and the Laymen. The information seems highly compartmentalized, though, as very few know why: but there's rumors of the constant arms-race moving to the magic realm for the always-desperate wintertime struggle for resources.
Medaron continues meddling. He calls up Chopper McGee, his old fence, and after a few minutes of circular talking, they hang up. Two hours later, the Silver Thorns acquire a shipment of troll-modded Grenade Launchers and a few extra Heavy Machine Guns- complete with nearly 3000 rounds of ExEx. It's going to be a bloody night.
The fighting continues into the night. The trolls and oks of the Horsemen, outgunned, fight back bravely, despite being slowly driven back by the battle-crazy elfs. At last, it seems like they're reprieved, as shipments of old assault rifles and heavy pistols make it in to the beleaguered Horsemen… but as they turn back to face their attackers, half their weapons don't work. Guns fire, explosive bullets don't explode, targeting passages won't target- and the elves are able to drive deep into their ranks, penetrating all the way to the Barricade… but perhaps too far.
It is here that the Silver Thorns meet true iron fist of the Sons of Sauron. Fully functional machine guns and assault cannons open up on the Silver Thorns, who have driven their spear too deep, suddenly fear that it might break upon the Barricade… but then a miracle happens, saving the elven gangers at the last minute. The winds howl, and the junk at the base of the barricade moves, and the very buildings of the Warrens begin to speak: and the fighters, addled and confused, slowly break apart, ending the violence for the night. But the body count is still high: terribly high.
The sun rises over Wovoka, Ute Nation, a town of change. The electric grid is offline. Basic services have broken down, derelict vehicles litter the streets and fires burn without control. The Mana Storm has lifted, dissipating in the night as mysteriously and swiftly as it came. Technology comes back online as suddenly as it went offline, resulting in military units able to communicate, government agents able to call for back up… and shooting. Lots and lots of shooting. What had been an unknown, concerning situation with lots of sniping along the edges, descends into a full on fire fight. The resistance fighters of the Paiute Nation blames the Ute Government and the Government blames the Paiute Nation, each pointing the finger for the theft of Great Shaman Wovoka's remains.
Massive explosions rock the small town of Hawthorne, Ute Nation. Located in the center of the Paiute Nation's territorial claim, the town of Hawthorn is home to the old United States Ammunition Plant that is now owned by Ares Arms. This morning, elements of the Ute Ministry of Defense attempted to nationalize the plant, but the Hard Corps security personnel refused to surrender the facility. That's when shooting started. A stray ExEx round slammed through a wall, ricochet'd off the floor and into one of the powder magazines.
The battle in Hawthorne comes to a close when Ares Arms exercises the Extra-Territoriality it is due. A complaint is filed and fast tracked with the Corporate Court, which contacts the Sovereign Tribal Council, which contacts Great Chief Micheal Iron-Eyes, who quickly disavows any attack on Ares facilities. Ares, so unlimbered, opens both barrels. A flight of Wasp Attack Helicopters take off from North Nellis Testing Range, headed North by North West.
Fires rage out of control in Lockwood, Ute Nation, as the Blackrock Ork Tribe lays waste to the outlying Reno suburb. Survivors of the attack tell stories of men on stolen military jeeps and trucks as well as horrible motorcycles with spikes and the heads of the dead. Other attacks strike Sun Valley, leaving bodies in the streets. The Truckee River sees fire float on its surface.
Great Chief Michael Iron Eyes has called for immediate Martial Law in Reno, dispatching troops to quiet the chaos and run off the guerilla fighters. Many of his calls to order to the public are interrupted as members of the Paiute Nation begin systematically taking out trideo transmission towers and facilities across the Nation, disrupting communication. The people of Reno watch their skyline become covered with smoke as the fires continue to rage, cutting them off from the rest of the Nation. Additional unrest in Battle Mountain has temporarily shut down transnational vehicular traffic, with protesters flying the Ute Flag taking over STC-80, the main east/west route through the nation.
In light of the ongoing problems within the Ute Nation, there are whispers that the Las Vegas Corporate Enclave is considering a move to make themselves a completely autonomous entity, like New York City Inc and Hong Kong, and thus removing the last vestiges of control and influence from the Ute Nation. What is known and verified, is the number of corporate security forces within the city have grown by over one hundred percent in the last three days.
Defections continue for the Ute Military as unit cohesion begins to break down. Whether due to the emerging pattern of 'training accidents' that have claimed the life of a number of members of the elite Screaming Arrows or pressure placed on family and tribal leaders, the number of soldiers abandoning their posts is increasing daily, even hourly in places. Ministry of Self-Determination agents are filling in holes as best they can in the command structure, but the actual bodies in the field just aren't there, and worse, they are showing up on the other side of the line.
Major Sueko Shibuya of the Japanese Protectorate of California vowed to continue their association with the Ute Nation's Great Chief Michael Iron Eyes. Shibuya says that the JPC has a number of forces preparing for immediate lift-off at the request of the Great Chief, with plans to supplement Ute forces in Reno and across the Nation, including a flight of Tora Attack Helicopters for air support and control. "The Imperialistic attitudes of Anglo Powers and the disruptive, disharmonious presence of Metahumans can only be countered with friendship, strength and cooperation. The most honorable General Kenji Saito is honored to have the friendship of Great Chief Michael Iron-Eyes.
Meanwhile, in the Pueblo Corporate Council sector of Denver, down near Colorado Springs… Lt. Tomo Arai crouches down on the ridge line overlooking the Greenland Fusion Center, the electrical generation station that services the vast majority of Denver's electrical needs. Aztlan leases power, the STC is dependant upon it and the friendship treaty with the CAS and PCC of 2059 linked the CAS's grid to the PCC's, creating a near monopoly of power in Denver. "Sgt. Hayashi. Inform the Locals to proceed with the operation.
Sean!" Said the Old man. He had one arm up on the back of the bench seat in his 2042 Ford F-650, looking out the back slide-window, into the bed. "Crank it up! Got the call from our friends!" In the back of the truck, Sean uncovered the launcher. Welded into a frame, 12 Great Dragon tube launchers were interlinked together, to fire as one massive salvo. "Ready to blow shit up!" Called Sean, looking down the opposite ridge line. The old man hit the firing mechanism, a single red button labeled BOOM. Sean wasn't bright, which is why his version of taking cover was to hunker down behind the launchers.
The button was touched, and in a microsecond, 12 tubes lit off simultaneously. Sean didn't even have time to scream, his face catching one of the jets square. The twelve rockets roar down the line. The automated defenses of the plant fail to come online. It's only in retrospect that the Greenland Security Personnel will discover the virus implanted in their code by a decker. The rockets slam, almost as one, into the cooling stacks for the Fusion plant, punching in through the concrete like butter, before exploding deep within.
In the plant, alarms sound and blast doors start closing. "Cooling stacks are gone! Heat is backing up and the core temps rising! We've go to snuff it or it will go critical!" In the comptrollers office, Nicholas Whitefeather hesitates only a moment, looking at the camera feeds. "Kill the pile. Kill it now.
Chaos reigns in the CAS and Aztlan Sectors as Gridguide and Gridlink go offline, cellphone towers go down and the matrix goes offline. Deckers city wide experience dumpshock as their hosts suddenly crash, or if not that, their local telecom goes offline. Either way, its a headache. The CAS is spread out enough though that the chaos is easily contained. In the Aztlan Sector however, it's not the same. High density, low income, the Aztlan Sector becomes a riot very quickly. Before it can boil out of control however, the Heroic Aztlan Corporate Security Forces just shoot a few dozen people. That always quells a cold, confused crowd.
January 2071
Across the UCAS Sector, citizens are thankful for the foresight and planning of Councilman Jeremy Falloon. Warm and safe in their homes, they can only imagine the cold and heartache being faced across the city. Meanwhile, the rest of the city looks to the illuminated UCAS sector and can only wonder if they had something to do with the current crisis, and why they have no heat, food, or lights.
In the Warrens, the people happily laughing at the CAS border guards who are using camp fires to keep warm.
Councilwomen Elizabeth Kalhiem, from the Governors Mansion on the shore of Lake Windor, CAS Sector, issues an emergency decree that effectively nationalizes all private generation capacity in the CAS sector for the duration of the emergency. Lone Star has fanned out to locate private generation. The statement says that excess capacity will be used to keep infrastructure and emergency response running.
The Ute Sector's response is proactive and rather impressive. Councilman William Huhuseca, in the time the Ministry of Self Determination has been harassing the Ute Sector, has been stockpiling emergency preparation gear. Large sections of Boulder and its outlying areas are already repowered, though fuel rationing limits it to the night time at this point.
Before the blackout, Sasha calls her buddy Viper, an infobroker working out of the UCAS sector. She chats him up for a few minutes before they get to the meat of the story. "Oh, that shit out in Hawthorn? Man, that was a cluster fuck. A battalion of gov-loyal Ute Military went to the plant, chasing some Paiute Loyal Ute Military and what happened was a cluster fuck man.. I shit you not, the Ares people let them in and threatened the chasers. What happened next was what happens when big boys with big toys get in an argument.
Before the Blackout, the stylized Black Cat icon of Air flitters out on to the trix. Moving quickly across electronic astral, he is a mage in a pixelated universe. He finds a few back doors and enters the Logistical Supply Network for the Japanese Protectorate of California, which is hosted on some Renraku Computer Technologies hosts. He has a good run initially, as he misroutes fuel and rations, managing to load a flight of combat choppers with training blanks and so forth. However, when the Red Samurai find him, he finds that its no longer a cake walk. A furious electronic battle rages for several real minutes as he makes a fighting withdrawl. At the end, Air jerks upright at his Jackpoint, blood seeping from his ears.
During the Blackout, Clover approaches Penny Dreadful, the on-site manager of the Bastille, over in The Rez. Clover asks if she can have some friends over during the BlackouT. For her part, Penny just sort of stares at Clover, taking a drag on her cigarette. A smoke-ring is blown out… "Honey, I don't care if you wanna bring four trogs in and run a train in your unit. Bring no heat, and we're null-sheen. Bring heat, and you'll feel like your twat after that train, you scan?
Cypher gets settled in for a night of decking. He's gonna do big things! Hell yes. Hack Exxon-Mobile. He gets his deck out, and goes to set up his Sat-Link… and realizes, he doesn't have one on this deck. He goes to find his Hackerhouse Deck.. and realizes he loaned it to someone. With the landlines out of Denver down, and the publicly available Satlinks guarded by every nasty the UCAS Government can put on them… he decides to go to Stuffer Shack instead.
Green Jedi feels that the force is strong tonight. He hits the Matrix with a vengeance and manages to find HIS Sat-Link. Taking to the stars, he sets up a private com-circuit that will let people make calls. If they have a Sat Phone, or a sat-dish. SO it's pretty cool, but it's a toy only for the prepared.
A few calls are placed by Sasha. One of them is to Xander, a local mid-level fixer. He takes the call, a glass of red wine in one hand. "Sasha, what a cold night to hear from you on. Everyone's interested in your goals. Now, as it -happens-, I've a full manifest here… just happened to find it." Sasha rolled a 17 on her check. "The question is what it worth to you? I want 25,000 for this list and a cut of the gross from any missions resulting. If that's okay with you… do send the money.
Sasha quickly sends the money, getting a list of fuel depots and the independent truck companies impressed into service hauling tankers.
Underdog goes on patrol in the CAS sector, looking for CRIME! He bounces along the roof tops, his trusty LMG in his arms. Oh, what's that? The sound of crime! He takes off in that direction. But Lone Star Security Services is already there. Oh no. They don't like dwarves on rooftops with heavy weapons! The Lonestar officers draw and fire, hitting the dwarf squarely. Wait, Cops are supposed to be the ally of the super hero! He turns to try to get away, but the cops are fast on his heels. They fire again, and more of the dwarf starts to leak. It's only a lucky break in the form of a hidden fire escape that lets Underdog get away from the cops, cold, injured and far from home.
It's a good night to be Bobo. The troll spreads out the maps he has of the Denver Utility Grids… and after a few hours, he spots something. An old Civil Defense Bunker from the NAN wars, underneath what once was Lowery Airforce Base. Now, it's an area of high density residences and Matrix Companies and research parks. It's a nice area. He gets down in to the tunnels, bypassing locks and finding the hidden entrance. And Hollllllly Drek. 2 massive marine diesel engines sit to power a turbine that generates power… and enough fuel to run it for 24 hours. He quickly moves one of the 55 gallon drums of fuel to the back of a stolen truck. He then heads back down to the Generator room. Saying a quick prayer to Mechano, the God of Mechanics, he throws the switch. The engines clatter to life.. and then the turbine spins… and power floods into Lowry District. The power comes on, towers light up, cell-phones start working and matrix servers come on line… but it's only 4 hours before people flood the district, and heaters, cell-phone chargers, pocket secretaries and everything else people immediately shove into every available socket overheat the turbine, causing a massive explosion of the fuel reserves. Still. Bobo has 55 gallons of fuel, and people got to see their trid shows for a little while."
Knox beats the streets, hitting up Dr. Finch and Vlad, some 'medical professionals' he knows. They both tell him that man… ain't -no- 'surplus' medical goods to be had right now. The moment trucks stopped rolling, people started eating into on-site stock. The average city only has 2-3 days of any given supply in it, constantly dependant upon restock.
The Sage finally wakes up when the lights go out. And who knew he had a heart of gold under that alabaster skin, baby blue eyes and fine, silken hair? Who knew those powerful, taut thighs and supple ass could Shepard 20 cold, hungry CAS citizens through an unknown hole in the UCAS border wall before magical security spots the hole and physical security closes it? Who knew?
As the winds blow over the city and most squat powerlessly in the dark, the Warrens seem brighter than ever. Lights are on across the squalor and heat clearly blooms from many an apartment. Bars and whore-houses continue their debauchery while citizens elsewhere freeze and wonder when they will be warm and full again. A wraith-like figure moves through the darkness of the UCAS Sub Processing Electrical Facility near the old Arapaho Racetrack. Silent as the wind and shadows, the figure finishes its work and vanishes. Moments later, an explosion rocks the city, far closer than Greenland but with similarly chilling effects. In the next moment, the power feed servicing Fox Hollow, Tir Llewn, OrkTown and the Warzone(HA!) is severed. Darkness descends on the warrens. The cries of a hundred thousand go up, followed swiftly by fires and gunshots. The elves think the orks did it. The orks think the elves did it. The Catholics don't care who did it, but anyone coming near Fox Hollow will be praying.
The fighting in the warrens intensifies as The Croc wades in. Moving steadily north, he has a group of Orks with him as he punches into Tir Llewn. The intital forays are brutal, but the orks still lack a lot of weaponry, while the Tir is well stocked and well prepared. They know whats coming and they have a far more paramilitary outlook than Orktown. Croc's Panzer Assault Cannon sweeps the defenders at the border clear, and he pushes further in. The rear however, seals off, as the Elves employ advanced strategies to encircle. A withering storm of fire cuts down his allies and the Croc stands alone, bellowing his rage and chattering with the cannon. From the tops of the buildings around him, liquid fire pours as The Silver Thorns douse Croc in Napalm. It burns, and it peels the skin from Croc's form, but his massive stamina keeps him on his feet. Dropping his panzer, he roars his defiance, wreathed in flame and glowing like a beacon in the night. "IS THIS THE BEST YOU CAN DO?" Croc turns and ducks through a building, setting it on fire as he goes. He will make his way back to Orktown, where most of the wounds will superficial, but he did lose his cannon.
The Battle of Orktown continues to rage. On the Orktown flank, Brutal finds a small party of The Horsemen laying low, waiting for some word from their leadership- word that, due to the lack of power in the orktown, isn't coming. Brutal waves his pistols and points, and they follow him in! Gunfire ensues, pistol and submachine gun as they flank one of the Silver Thorns' undergangs. Their bullets, and Brutal's expert mace-based skullcrushing, briefly draw the focus away from the thorns' main objective… but the gangers just aren't able to overcome the spirit-conceal machine gun nests now being laid down near the borders. Several of the horsemen fall, and even Brutal is driven back, lightly hurt by the withering machine guns.
Irish, the Green Jedi gets the bright idea to check the not so local corporations for generators headed towards Denver this cold evening. From his cozy decking pod, he hits AngelSatCom, and bounces back down into the UCAS Midwest RTG. Checking around, he starts to generate a list of possible candidates for his paydata run, a few A-level corps and a single AA: Industrial Equipment International. The A-level corps are easy enough to break into, he finds, but is disappointed as they are all taking a conservative uninvolved approach, citing "Best not to stick our hand where it needn't be" in one executive memo, avoiding the Denver crisis. Taking a dive into the IEI host, he finds paydirt. A shipment of heavy industrial generators being rerouted to the Denver area! Downloading the file, Irish logs off a happy man and prepares to sell his findings…
The Pueblo Corporate Council's Grid-Sec Division, working with Corporate Court Matrix Authority, has stated that the RTG repowering for the Denver Grid will take place shortly.
Winter is taking its toll. The promised cold has come, and the cruel, whispering wind has reaped a grim harvest in the poorer parts of town. In the warrens, entire families are found dead in the morning, the heat of their shoddy homes gone, their bodies covered in thin layers of ice. Beggars die on the streets, and entire colonies of rats are found frozen in one giant heap. The wind whispers, and the wind taunts, and the wind wheedles- and as the death count rises, there are only ever more voices carried in its whispering cold.
James Menthe, political operative, trid pundit, and former lobbyist remains in post-Blackout Denver making rounds on trideo pundit shows. Roundly applauded and criticized for his loud positions on intra-metahuman marriage bans, support for controversial Kentucky Senator Kyle and a complete secession of the CAS zones from Denver in protest for a "lack of respect, resources, and now basic power," Menthe's press office claims it has been distributing clean water and soyfoods to middle class enclaves in the CAS district (flanked with local police and a trideo crew) and are now offering financial assitance to registered CAS businesses.
It is not all suffering, however. Some good souls try to make the cold more bearable, as the very Saints themselves briefly ally with the Laymen to provide warmth and shelter in these trying times. Of course, its hard to get any warmth without a sermon, and as the numbers coming for shelter rise, so does the tension between these two briefly 'allied' gangs… just how long can they work together before blood begins to spill in yet another Warrens Turf War?
James Menthe and Sen. Kyle Rand are featured via satellite on a panel discussion: "Metahuman Intra-Marriage: Fair?" Both men uphold the long revisionist history of upholding the 'right' values of the Confederate American States. Rand seems nervous, confused, and easily angered by the host's questions. Menthe is cool, calm, and collected. "Metahumans deserve the right to maintain clean and clear bloodlines," is the official talking point.
Green Jedi watches the news and spots what he thinks is a familiar face on a CAS news report. He puts James Menthe's face on freeze frame and recalls a file from Shadowland that had popped up for a day before someone had corrupted the datapath. Green Jedi is a smart lad and wrote down its data point. He traces the data stream to a lone computer node: A defunct trideo repair shop somewhere in the Ute Free Trade Zone. Green Jedi uses his Virtual Lightsaber to validate the sytem: only to find it totally empty, save for evidence that it is owned by the Victorious Investments company. Finished for now, he jacks out and heads to bed.
June 2071
[Narrative] Kay says, "Strippers and low lifes burn to death at The Dripping Clam, a Sucreasi Family establishment, burns to the ground. A few tridnews reporters are at the scene covering the incident as the embers smolder. Several bouncers' bodies are discovered by KE Arson Investigation. Arson Inspector BJ Thomas reports that the bouncers had been subdued and then shot in the head execution style, officially the report is murder-arson."
13:14 [Narrative] Kay says, "Hek rolls up to the remnants The Dripping Clam after the news vans and cops have cleared the scene, the strip club now a washed out hull of a building. He checks with his sources on the rumor mill about Organized Crime and learns that Dwayne "Big Man" Miller , a Sucreasi Lieutenant, is in Denver General ICU with 3rd Degree Burns. Hek learns from a local gang snitch the family wants to strike back and they suspect it was the Denver Yakuza."
14:17 [Narrative] Kay says, "West places a call with his contact Lone Star Detective Joe Taylor to get the skinny on who the hitters were at The Dripping Clam. "Hey man, ain't my department but I heard from a lateral transfer in KE, she says the bodies were shot up bad, then burned. Tight groupings, looks professional, but nothing pointing to anyone. Looks like we got another Org War brewing. Good for overtime.""
19:28 [Narrative] Kay says, "Near Aurora gunfire erupts outside a known Osaka Twins warehouse. Street muscle lying bleeding to death while crates of BTL chips explode and lights the night sky. "
19:37 [Narrative] Kay says, "A molotov cocktail explodes in front of the offices of Innocenti, Ratto and Sucreasi, shattering glass. Downtown A van pulls away , chased by police for 10 minutes before KE Mages accidentally turn the driver to unrecognizable goo. Denver's finest."
20:12 [Narrative] Kay says, "Cypher jacks into his remote drone and starts sweeping it's sensors out in Aurora high up in the air over the abandoned factories in the vicinity. It's onboard camera zooms in on the scene. Hard to make out from the acrid smoke and the heat bursts are futzing his sensors. Clearing to Ultrasound he spots several dead bodies of human size, their heat signatures barely exist, the guns they clutch are bright red seemingly recently fired. Two strangers make their way towards the smoke and fire, looks like they're scavenging."
22:15 [Narrative] Kay says, "Mr.T is nearby in the Aurora area when the gunfire breaks out followed by explosions. He trips spells including Invisibilty and glowing armor, a hazy glowing faceless incarnation. He steps lightly and sees, alas, there are no lives bodies. Three humans of Asian heritage, a few muscled orks, and a human female shot in the head sitting in a nearby van are the remains of a gun battle. The smoke is acrid and laced with chemicals, a few BTL heads of scrounged from the darkness and make half hearted attempts to go in the burning warehouse. The side of the building reads "Dysaka-Sendai Storage". Hero for profit? Not tonight."
17:39 [Narrative] Kay says, "Mob and Yakuza rumors are flying. Word is a Yakuza BTL factory and some muscle were torched over the weekend. Jeremy Faloon announces "Anti-Crime" press conference for tonight, to calm public unease. Meanwhile Dwayne "BigMan" Miller, a Sucreasi underboss, moves from ICU to a home care facility to treat his massive burns. «Contact Knox to follow up»"
19:59 [Narrative] Kay says, "Word filters that Sucreasi and Cordero "representatives" exchanged first words, then mana bolts and pistol shots with Osaka Twin representatives in Princess Diana Park in a meet gone bad. No one knows who fired the first shot, but "Big" George Romero is left riddled with bullets in the fountain. There'll be a wake tonight, location unknown."
21:09 [Narrative] Kay says, "Russian businessman Boris Bolokov, shot to death at a strip club, "The Dirty Lady". Smells like a contract killing to those in the biz. Vory connections? Meanwhile, Innocenti, Cordeoi and Sucreasi are spotted at DiFaro's Upscale Italian Dining. A pipebomb goes off NE of the Asian District in front of a known Yakuza pachinko parlor. The summer's coming, the heat's rising, an Org war stretching out as it boils. «Please contact Knox to follow up»"
22:13 [Narrative] Kay says, "Aspanu Innocenti is spotted slumming at a shadowrunner bar and he looks pissed. KE SWAT hits another BTL warehouse stored with chips. After an anonymous tip about a firefight. Hanzo Suntori, a Yakuza front, seems to be the owner of the warehouse. Jobs are aplenty in the shadows. «Contact KNOX for follow up»"
09:52 [Narrative] Molotov says, "Flames pour from the front of "Hosaka Sushi & Massage", a Yakuza front, in southeastern CAS. Two suspects, allegedly with grenades, took out the small bunraku operation. Trideo is circulated amongst Mafia contacts of some Yak soldiers in "compromising positions."
22:09 [Narrative] Kilazul says, "Aspanu gets a phone call, he spreads the word. Big Man Miller, Sucreasi under-boss, was murdered by some runners. Good pay if anyone can track them down, alive preferably. Meanwhile, a Yakuza BTL distribution depot got hit, data theft, by some mobsters. Responding officer in ICU can't recall suspects, and several dead bodies litter the scene. (@mail Knox for follow up, Narrative actions)"
17:19 [Narrative] Crackah Jack, a Sucreasi legbreaker, spotted smashing in skulls at Franky's as he searches for the individuals behind the murder of Dwayne 'BigMan' Miller. Rumor is some local fixer may have contracted the hit, but for?. Good intell equals good =Y=. The Yakuza, reeling from damage to BTL distribution, are silent as Lone Star investigates Happy Laundry in the CAS. Meanwhile, KONG chips are proliferating all over town, but who's supplying?"
18:19 [Narrative "Nine gets a lap dance from Azumi Kawashima at a Yakuza-run strip club. A credstick changes hands. "Hai. I hear the Oyabuns are scrabbling around. Trying to find new suppliers for products. I think the 88's are trying to start a war and hired some runners to do it. But that's me. Another dance?""
19:19 [Narrative] "Bagheera reaches out to her ganger/snitch contacts Jim & Billy. Inquiring minds want to know if there's any contract work out. Dumb as they are, the duo have the inside track: "Yeah, ain't you heard? Sucreasi family's got a contract out on this fixer, ork fella who dresses nice. They want to talk to him. Yaks are beefing up their defenses at their pachinko parlors, looking for consultants. And this Russian guy, Piotr Vlackslov is in need of a bodyguard, you want his number?"
21:19 [Narrative] "Seems a closed casket wake is happening tonight at the Catacomb Club in honor of the murdered Big Man Miller, some say by the Yaks, others by the .Russians or maybe Triads. Despite this, it's a lightly covered news blip and open to the general public, but word is it might be a good place to stop by and suss some information out, shake hands with some movers and shakers. No Don's are spotted, but there's enough slick backed hair to make up for that.
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