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GM: Vulcan
Players: Nightshade, Air
Synopsis: Run In Progress
Date: January 16, 2070
==========================> Current Denver Weather <===========================
Condition : Mostly cloudy
Temperature : 41 F (5 C)
Feels Like : 41 F (5 C)
Humidity : 38 %
Barometer : 30
Visibility : 70 miles
Wind : 12 mph from S
----> Last Updated: Jan 16 2070 10:35 CST <----
Air is in his workshop putting the finishing touches ona pair of Colt Manhunters, mostly wiping off the oil after installing a couple of mods. There's nobody in the storefront, or he'd know about it so he relaxes, wiping off a bit of the sweat from his forehead.
The only obviously striking facets of this man's face are his vibrant blue eyes and the tear in his right ear leaving a ragged opening across it. The bone structure hints at a northern European origin with thin lips and a straight nose. His golden blond hair an unkempt border around his forehead, cut to around an inch but otherwise unstyled. While tall, around 6 feet three inches, his build is slight, and he walks with a certain fluidity indicating a relaxed frame of mind.
A modern cut knee length, black overcoat covers most of the blond's upper body, a charcoal grey shirt showing beneath the unfastened coat. A finely tailored suit jacket and trousers finishes the ensemble off, a pair of shiny black dress shoes to cover his feet.
http://silverhands.wikidot.com/air
Nightshade is bundling up for another day in the Warrens, a few minutes of concentration creates her another set of clothes, comfortable but plain that goes on under the form fitting suit that protects her from the world, and the world from the worst of her bony spikes. Over it goes jeans, long shirt, sweater, overcoat, hat, scarf, hood, mittens, and the clothes yeti known as Nightshade is just about ready to head out into the Warrens once more, it's only a block to The Big House where she has some steady work 'redecorating' the owner's office, another few days and that'll be done, but still there's enough holes in the walls of her apartment she doesn't leave much of anything behind. A small pack on her shoulder carries the rest of her gear (all of one more set of clothes and a small radio set), and her sword hangs under her coat…it is the Warrens after all.
The young troll woman is only a hair over two and a quarter meters weighing in the neighborhood of 185kg. She is small for her metatype but solidly built with heavy calcium deposits on her hands and the sides of her face making her fingers appear clawlike and her face appear draconian. Her eyes are a dirty blue set below eyebrows that bear tiny boney spikes. The pair of horns that begin to show just behind her cheekbones run up and back from her eyes curling along the side of her head wrapping around her ear and tapering to a point just shy of the bottom of her earlobe. Her body, what can be seen of it, bears additional calcium deposits, stiff pieces that shift oddly underneath her clothing. What feminine curves she might have are distorted by these plates and points.
She is wearing a pair of thick baggy jeans that catch from time to time on the bony protrusions on her knees, outer thighs, and hips. her top is a long sleeved tight fitting stretch material under a bulky sweatshirt. The undershirt allows the sweatshirt to sit more or less normally though she does need to adjust it from time to time when the sleeves start to bunch up behind the extended point of her elbow. Over this she wears a sturdy looking greatcoat, the pockets of which appear to have been reinforced and lined with leather.
The Contacts:
Ex-Yakishima Corp executive, Air was assigned to his protection detail during his time with Yakishima. Economic hit-man via extortionate loans thus keeping entire territories beholden to the corporation. Skills: Etiquette 6, Negotiation 5, Intimidation 3 +- Mental 5, Megacorp Politics 5, Corporate Rumors 5, Japanese Culture 6
Level: 1
Type: fixer
GM Note: Shaquiel Jones, or "The Stuffer Shaq" to his associates is notable fixer in the Denver area simply for the fact that nobody of note knows he exists. Like the Stuffer Shacks that exist on one out of every four street corners Shaquiel remains largely unnoticed by the shadows until they need something odd and illegal at three thirty am on some cold Tuesday morning. Then they'll recall that isn't "The Stuffer Shaq" always available? Of course the merchandise is a little pricey, and the quality isn't always top notch, but it'll do the job for now.
Nightshade met Shaquiel through a mutual now-deceased client. Impressed by his ability to operate successfully below the radar while moving a large volume of goods through the treacherous borders of Denver Nightshade invested some time and Nuyen buying a business relationship with Shaq. He has provided her with several avenues of contact, for legitimate and illegitimate business. As a "cover" Shaq runs a pawn shop in one of the seedier sections of the Denver FTZ. Almost blatantly illegal the shop is regularly raided and Shaq routinely rolls over on those foolish enough to bring illegal goods in through the front door. Whether the authorities are actually unaware of what he deals out the back door, or if their willing to accept the trade off for the service he provides helping keep the stupid criminals off the streets is open for debate.
Shaq is able to source just about anything given enough time to do so. He doesn't trust anyone, he doesn't care what your 'cause' is, and he doesn't sell on credit (though he'll offer to buy from you for credit). Deals are done through bulletproof one way glass with a trideo feed of him projected on it (to prevent spells, bioware, or other effects from influencing his deals). Business is /never/ discussed face to face, though on rare occasions he will come out to make nice with valued clients after business is concluded. Shaq knows many languages and is believed to have an ME3 installed and possibly a VCR. Inspection of goods (both legal and illegal) is done remotely mechanical arms and sensors.
Shaq speaks well, adopting the mannerisms appropriate to the group he is speaking with. Because he maintains an "I don't know/I don't wanna know." demeanor he is rarely a source for rumor or information unless it directly relates to gear moving through the FTZ.
Both contacts, Shaq and Honda, send messages. They both amount to this: I know you're not ideal for the mission, but trust me, it's important to me. I owe a favor and I'll owe you for this one. Base mission pays 30k, mission is in the CFS, transport is provided. Play this one right and more work could come from it. If you want the job, meet up at the Old Playschool toy factory on the north side of the warrens. Wear a red hat.
Air scratches his nose as he reads the short brief. Stepping upstairs he scans his wardrobe… No red. Just yellow and blue. He throws on his sparkly clean suit and heads out, stopping by the nearest Shack to buy a nuyen wooly hat, red. The dye will probably run so he doesn't put it on 'til getting to the Toy Factory. Which will take him a few minutes on foot from the CAS sector.
Nightshade closes the cheap disposable phone considering her options. The work here can wait a day or two, and the money would go a long way towards getting her out of this hole. She sets out towards the toy factory, stopping for a moment in a private location to spell herself a red hat, resting for a few minutes after the effort before continuing on. She puts the hat on, but pulls her hood up over it till she's within a short distance of the toy factory. God only knows which gang might be for or against red hats today.
The Toy Factory still has the PLAYSCHOOL logo on it, though the P is tilted at a precarious angle and someone has nailed a plywood penis below the two OO's. The factory is a classic style 3 story warehouse with the slanted roof and smoke stacks. What the fuck did they make here?
Air wanders up outside the factory, not bothering to be stealthy just being aware of his surroundings. As he comes to a stop under the penis he pulls the hat out and puts it on, pulling it well down over his ears knowing that they are supposed to get cold. His don't, they're fake, but still. His hands go into his pockets and stay there, his coat buttoned up.
Nightshade pulls back her hood as she approaches so that the hat is visible, though her face is still covered by the scarf and her collar is turned up. She walks over towards Air, her eyes looking down at the red hat he's wearing. She nods once but doesn't speak, coming to a halt a bout two meters from him. She looks around semi-casually looking for a contact.
A neon sign, long unused, and advertising a toy line, buzzes in to luminance over a door way down the way. REDCAP WARRIORS, a fantasy themed boytoy line from about 30 years back. Sort of like GI JOE for the awakening.
Air raises his blond eyebrows at Nightshade, giving a cursory nod for a greeting for a fellow redhatter. He starts considering the chances that this was some sort of practical joke, or worse, a trap. Then the sign lights up, his paranoia flares some more, chance? Or epic coincidence? Sighing he shakes his head and walks over to that door.
Nightshade looks over at the sign, mutters, "Subtle." and follows after Air. Keeping an eye on the building condition, she's not big for a troll, but still, old buildings and trolls of any size don't get along at times.
The doorway leads in to a… absolutely cavernous product manufacturing warehouse. Three stories tall, supported by columns. Once, men and materials bustled through here to put together toys that children all across North America would tie firecrackers too. There is one area that seems lit, underneath a catwalk and near a set of stairs. A desk seems set up under a directed light, providing an island of light and heat in a small ocean of cold dank.
A pair of coffee mugs are set out, steaming, one troll sized, one not troll sized.
Air peers inside, stroking his chin, and then heads in. Already a hand reaching up to pull the ridiculous hat from his head. He bundles it into a pocket and steps towards the mansized coffee mug. "Very welcoming," he notes in dry English. Paranoia not dying down he leaves the mug where it is, instead peering around the room, even using eye lights to illuminate the dark corners, for himself anyway.
There does not appear to be anyone about to leap out and kill you. Yet.
Nightshade makes her way over to the desk to wait, She takes off her mittens stuffing them into her pockets but keeps on her gloves, "So long as there is money to go with the coffee, I'll feel very welcomed."
Nightshade looks over the two mugs, picking up the troll sized mug carefully, having to spend a deliberate moment working her fingers into the handle then cups both hands around it letting it warm her cold fingers.
A door above the light opens, and down the stairs, across the catwalk, comes a set of footsteps. Not stomping, but the sound echos a lot in the cavernous room, refracting back. AFter a moment the footsteps come in to view, showing a prim young woman in a pant suit, black, a blue tie over a white shirt. HEr red hair is pulled back in a braid that flows down to the small of her back. "Thank you for coming," She says with a smile, raising her own mug of coffee. "I assure you, its fresh, real and not poisoned. At this point, your not worth the cost of the poison, so enjoy it." She says, coming to step down the stairs to join the pair at the bottom.
Air shrugs, "I don't like coffee." He's quite plain, even his English, horribly plain when he talks. For the record, he has an elemental and two watchers following him around on the astral too.
Nightshade blows on it then sips a bit, not having the opportunity to get real coffee often and curious how it stacks up to the imitation. She nods, "Thank you."
The woman pauses a moment, tilting her head for a moment. "My security informs me that you…" A gesture to Air with her mug… "Have been followed. Call off those who are following you.. now… or I will have them destroyed."
Nightshade takes a not so subtle step away from Air.
Air glances back around the room and then frowns, "Uh, what? How come I've been followed and not her?" He points at Nightshade.
"Because the spirits are paying attention to you. They arrived when you did. They did not follow the magically active of the pair of you…" A pause. "And she would know what I am talking about."
She touches her ear again. "Destroy them. Don't be subtle about it."
Air quirks an eyebrow in actual confusion for a moment and then… it dawns. "Oh… those." He shrugs again, "I have no control over spirits."
Nightshade takes another step back still holding her coffee but she's turning the cup slowly in her hands to free her fingers from the handle.
Air beeps. As in, the phone in his pocket beeps.
The woman steps off the stairs now. "You should look to that." She says with a mischievous smile. "A jealous lover? An overbearing employer? Could get a man in trouble." She admits with a grin in her voice.
Air also scowls and ignores it.
Nightshade sips her coffee waiting for her potential employer to sort out whatever it is.
She moves around the desk, to sit at the chair on the other side of side of the desk. "I need two people who are willing to travel to Sacramento and have the technical proficiency to plant a sensor device in the middle of an airfield without being seen. You.." A gesture to Air… "Have the technical ability." A glance to the both of them. "Your references say you have the professional accumine to pull off the job." She sips her coffee, eyeing the pair over the rim. "What do you say?"
Air ponders the question for a moment and then sends a question back, couched as a statement. "If transporation there and back is covered outside our fee. Then I am interested."
Nightshade nods, "Transportation would be useful, also please confirm the pay rate."
«Auto-Judge[]» Vulcan (#3087) rolls 2 for "Hrrrrrrm.":
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The woman sips her coffee again. "The transport, round trip, is provided, but you will have to do some work on the ground to get to your mission point. NO way around that, we're not flying you directly in to Sacremento. AS for pay, I think I offered 30,000 nuyen for the mission."
Nightshade nods confirming, "Understood. I'm in."
Air also nods, "Indeed. Sixty thousand." He glances at Nightshade, "Cheap and deniable. I'm in."
"
Very good." She says after a long moment. "Give me a moment and I'll bring up the technical specifications of the mission itself. I'm glad you've agreed. Can I get you some pastries? Something more paletable to you, Mr. Air?"
Nightshade shakes her head, "No, thank you, I ate." She looks over at Air, "We'll introduce on the way?" she inquires of the man. "And I go by Nightshade, professionally."
Air shrugs and then notes, "Anything loaded with carbohydrate and sweeteners." Revealing something about his extensive eating habits. Then he turns to Nightshade, "Air, like she said."
Touching her ear again… "Cinnabonn, please. There is a fresh supply in the catering truck. Have it sent in immediately. Yes. Warm it. Also, a selection of Tea for Mr. Air, the coffee does not sit with him."
Nightshade shifts weight from one foot to the other while finishing off her coffee. She sets down the empty cup, wiping her mouth on the side of her glove.
She sips her coffee again, smiling brightly at the pair. "I try to be hospitable, I know how tense these meetings can be. Always such a worry about betrayal. But.. I'm not interested in saving a nuyen. I'm interested in results. In this case…" She reaches under the desk to pull out a purse sized package. "I need this planted in McClellen Airfield, Sacramento. This used to be a US Airforce base when California was a US state… it later became a California Air Guard base, and then a Forestry Service maintainance base for the tankers that fly against forest fires. Recently, it was taken over by the Japanese Protectorate and refurbished."
Nightshade nods following along the story.
Air nods also, especially when the Cinnabonn and tea is delivered. The cinnabonn lasts about 30 seconds and he withdraws a hand kerchief to wipe his face with. "Very interesting."
Theres a full plate of them. Also, the suited man who delivers them brings a fresh caraff of coffee, and a tea set with several fresh sealed bags for tea. "Thank you, Mr. Wooster." Says the redhead with a smile.
Back to business, she pauses as she nibbles on her bun. She looks from the window, to Air. "Mr. Air?"
Air expounds slightly, "Your story is very interesting." That seems to be the extent of his point really, "I have not kept up with the Japanese Protectorates progress."
"No." Says she then. "You have a -visitor-." She says with finality. Her voice takes on a harsh tone. "Please contact whomever is sending your visitors and -disuade- them from sending another. If I must have a fourth spirit destroyed, I will have the spirit compelled to return to its sender, and we will -handle- the sender."
Air sighs, withdraws his phone and types out a quick text message. Then the phone is replaced in his pocket.
Nightshade looks at the pastries, puts her hand over her stomach for a moment then refocuses on the woman after pouring herself another cup of coffee. Then turns to look at Air when the visitor is announced. Taking another drink of coffee. Waiting quietly, trying to look professional and worth the 30k, the immobility of her face a mixed blessing, hard to smile at someone, but also hard to frown.
The woman sips her coffee now, setting it to the side. "Very good. PRovided we are not bothered again, we can have a very profitable relationship." A pause as she looks to the both runners. "I like profitable relationships. I like lasting relationships. So. This is a mark IV passive sensor and uplink array. Given that the Japanese are using the already present avionics and electronics on hand… we have masked the uplink signature to look like something from their own systems. All we need, is for you to put it in place." She says. Wooster returns with a monitor on a cart. "Please give your attention here…"
http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&msa=0&msid=106089619060512346088.000473d0e98659dea85a0&ll=38.660582,-121.387424&spn=0.066218,0.155869&t=h&z=13
Air takes a look at the map, noting the location that the device needs to go. "And we must remain undetected? Anything I need to know about installing this device?"
Nightshade looks over the layout nodding slowly, her eyes tracking over the layout trying to commit what she sees to memory.
The woman says "The unit will need to be buried or otherwise concealed on the property. It needs a clear LOS to Ares COMSAT 02, which is in geosynch over California. Your reported technical skills should be more than sufficient to initialize the uplink."
Air hmms and nods, "I don't foresee a problem getting LOS to a satellite on an airfield."
She nods with an amused grin. "I thought you might not have an issue with that. The big problem… is getting it installed without them seeing you. We can provide yous some intil on when there will be downtime at the field, so you don't need to worry about getting landed on. Mostly, this is evasion and intrusion."
Nightshade nods, "I can help with that a bit, though if you have any cammo I would suggest bringing it."
Air hmms, "I'm not sure I have airforce base pattern camo. Neither urban nor jungle will suit I imagine." He shrugs and ponders as he looks at the map. "It sounds like most things are covered here."
"You will be inserted in to Truckee, which is approximately 60 miles up CFS-80, near lake tahoe. YOu will be provided a vehicle. Entering the JPC will be on you, but if required, we can assign you a local laison. This will however, come out of your payment."
Nightshade looks over at Air, "I don't plan on being anywhere except the car and the airfield, less trace the better and I don't mind sleeping out of doors. Do you foresee need for a liason?"
The woman stands up, sliding the bag over to Air. "The documentation you will need to board the plane will be here. It's a charter flight, leaving from Buckly Air Force Base, not far from here. YOu will not be bothered for any gear you choose to take."
Air nods taking the bag and putting it between his legs, "And other such not entirely legal items? A cyberware scan would be bad for me. I don't know about my associate here."
Nightshade nods, "One other thing, if you have any techno-wizes on hand that could whip up a UTE SIN before we take off, nothing fancy just the basics so we can buy gas and somewhere for you to transfer the pay when we're done. When we do a good job you can use it to reach me for future work. Call it 6k for the SIN and for future consideration?" She shakes her head to Air, "No, I travel light."
"You won't find any care about the ware you possess from -my- end of things. But it could be a consideration for the JPC. But, you are mostly in luck in that there are only a few formal checkpoints in to the JPC and lots and lots of open space."
The woman looks to nightshade. "I'm sorry. Thats not feasible at this time, but maybe by the time you get back from your mission."
Air nods as things begin to finalize. "Right, no liason. A bag of camping gear and dried rations and this device planted on the airfield. Simple."
Nightshade nods, "Right, how soon does the plane leave?"
With a final nod, The woman turns and starts for the stairs. "Show yourselves out. You have 6 hours to gather whatever goods you require. Your window of opportunity to plant the device is 53 hours from now. You will be in the air for approximately 4 hours, giving you nearly two days to make it to the location. I feel this is sufficent."
Nightshade looks over at Air, "I'll need to hit up a Stuffer Shack for a sleeping bag, you need anything?"
Air nods, "Same thing. And food." He turns away, the woman already out of his thoughts. "Backpacks and all the camping gear we might need I suppose." He heads out, heading back to the tuffer shack he dropped in on for the hat.
Footsteps receed in to the darkeness, leaving just the uneaten cinnabon, a caraffe of cooling coffee and the slowly decomposing corpses of three watcher spirits.
Nightshade waits till they're clear of the building, "Are those visitors of yours going to be a liability?" She asks following after Air, we've only got 6 hours but if it's something we can clear up before then I'd rather handle it now than have one give away our position on the airfield."
Air shrugs to Nightshade, answering simply "They've been stopped. What else will we need?"
Nightshade gives a quick look around making sure no-one is in earshot, then runs down a little list, "Wirecutters, rubber gloves, pliers, matte black duct tape, best cammo covering we can manage for you to work under, hand shovels. Masks and gloves wouldn't be a bad idea."
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