Globalemits October 2012

October 2012

Mon Oct 1

Knight Errant Internal Affairs: Audio Recording // Eyes Only // Source: "Boy Scout"
Lt. Detective Pico plays the bloody memory chip in a backroom office. He thinks about the condolences letter he'll need to write explaining this tragedy and the leaked story to cover it up. He sips his synthwhiskey and listens to the last dying moments of a good man.

(Two close range gunshots, Male voice, Unknown, Late 30's)» I am sorry, my friend. Don't worry, your death won't be in vain. (Background gasping, analyzing, "Boy Scout" 99.23 Percent Match) Our operation is moving forward as planned, and, I felt we were true friends. This betrayal not withstanding, I know you agree in your heart that our politics matter. These creatures leeching off the system, feeding out of our palm so easily. A dialog will begin in across the nations, and just in time with the election. The pure will triumph again!«
("Boy Scout")» "Just shut up and kill me"«

»End of file«


Monday Trid Talk Show "Plutocracy Now!"

The moderator and two well-dressed guests: Percy Malone, personal assistant secretary to Jeremy Falloon, and Derek O'Neal, CalFree Ranger Vet, Metahuman Rights spokesperson.

Malone is grouchy, antagonistic, and has a whiff of insider political elitist. "Yes yes, tacit support for metahuman rights. Yes, some activist groups have been particularly vocal." Agree, pivot, deflect. O'Neal is charming, yet clipped in his responses. "Metahuman anger is at an all time high, I've seen it myself coming back from the war. Metahuman orks and trolls are not predisposed towards violence, nor are they 'filthy creatures'". The moderator looks perplexed. "Who said they were?"

O'Neal quickly pivots, "Well, some fringe groups have said such things. I plan on supporting in person at the rally, I hope you will too." The topic changes to advocacy for refugees from CalFree / Japanese Protectorate State.


Wed Oct 3

Denver Fairgrounds, UCAS FTZ, Night before the rally. Two groups warily eye each other in anticipation of the event. Police and Faloon's security team inspect the site for any possible trouble, dogs bark, sensors beep, tired officers stop for cigarettes and soykaf. Under the glow of portable arc lights, the TLF and a contingent of ork and troll construction workers unfurl political banners, assemble a large stage, and are repeatedly stopped, frisked, and harassed by cops at every turn.

Two human rookie security guards have fun strip searching an entire ork family for "suspicious behavior" right in the open as punishment for hurling verbal insults. Press is prevented from being anywhere close to the grounds to witness. In fact, among competing security companies, an international war in Cal-Free, magical terrorist attacks in Denver, and the everyday 24 hour news cycle. Who's to say the press would care? They're just some ghetto orks after all. "Brother" Mouzone and, behind him, Connor watch from the sidelines and smolder.


Sun Oct 7

Two thousand eight hundred strong crowd of predominantly ork men and women fill the Denver fairgrounds, the whoosh of their voices coalescing into a singular call for metahuman rights, influence, and recognition in the plutocracy of Denver, and through that, a voice on the national stage.

The outdoor park area brims with a microcosm of factions- gangers, street corner preachers, working and unemployed, the young, the old. Drum circles bang out exotic rhythms, food stalls fill the air with the scent of fatty street food, KE provide strict security, and Falloon's private security guards weave throughout the crowd jacking anyone up with even a hint of malice. Placards wave like colorful coral in a sea of metahuman despair.

At the front towards a small outcropping of buildings with stages designed for performances wait the radical ork group the Tusk Liberation Front. Cameras surround them and broadcast the Soybeer Summit as it's being nicknamed by the media. Brother Mouzone sits at a table with a microphone, on the other side is none other than Jeremy Falloon.


News52 Broadcast:
Jim, we're looking at quite possibly a first for Jeremy Falloon, a soybeer! He's here at what's been nominally called by metahuman activists as a Call To Action for primarily the local 'ork' community and Warrens denizens. Pundits were astonished when the national and some say radical political group the Tusk Liberation Front made headlines having so shortly arrived here in Denver, and scored such a political win for their perceived discrimination. Denver TLF spokesman Reginald Mouzone is at the main stage awaiting what looks like a cue to engage in a televised discussion with Mr. Falloon in just a few short minutes.


Fifteen stories up The Gunman slowly rolls out of his thermal protected and urban camouflaged covering, banging his shin on an air duct. He checks for drift, compensates for the pull of gravity and rotation, mimetic architecture layouts unfold and realign themselves in his left eye. He breathes, and he observes, and he waits.


Enzo pumps his fist into the air chanting along with a large band of Horsemen from the Warrens. O-R-K IS A-OK!, 40 Acres And A Mule! All We Got Is J Bafoon! Some of the Horsemen get bored and start moshing. It starts a small melee, KE snaps off silenced rounds of rubber bullets knocking a few out. Enzo takes one in the chest and rolls onto the ground. He gasps and pushes himself to the front and gets a good look at Mouzone, Falloon, and half a dozen cameras. He's witnessing history this evening.


Street samurai Citan, a burly ork in a real ugly business suit, stands at arms on stage with Mouzone's trusted. Part of the agreement with Falloon's security was no weapons on stage. The man feels damn near naked, but he feels good being part of something powerful and he's gonna ride this one out to the big payoff. Citan does his best to look the part of bodyguard, for behind himis none other than metahuman activist Derek O'Neal- Ex-CalFree Ranger, tacit TLF supporter, a political player on the national stage, and the only human not with Falloon's entourage.


A night one and a regular elf attend an ork rally. It's not a joke though. Vollo and Laz work the perimeter like some buddy cop movie, checking for trouble. The two shadowrunners keep a low profile, watching for anything fishy. They don't see anything other than the sneers from a large majority of orks. Vollo catches a glass bottle before it hits Laz, they lose the crowd and head over towards friendlier faces- a small group of fellow elves……with ork boyfriends.

Knox, a local fixer, tends bar tonight at the low rent pool hall Falstaff's. He grumbles how his favorite employee, Carlos, never showed up only to appear on the trideo above the bar raging against race traitors.

Simon calls it a night and tucks into his coffin motel after a chat with a friend. He thought he might go, but then he didn't.


Double Tap's no stranger to political and when it can go bad. She never was a fan of the racist orks that dare claim to represent her too. Frag that noise. She pays off the right people and sneaks through the downtown core emerging a football field and a half away from the fairgrounds. She links together components that were hidden in her car and voila! Panther Assault Cannon. The faintest echoes of the crowd bounce off the surrounding buildings like waves. Double Tap clears an area and waits to see what happens and if she needs to do something about it.


Whiskey Slim watches from the crowd as his contact Jebediah, a southern baptist preacher, emcees the stage. ''I got the man the gig. He will remember the favor'', Whiskey brags to a pretty troll woman.

''Evening y'all!'', Jebediah announces into a microphone. A rush of voices hits back in response. Jebediah starts to say something about Jesus or something, but no one seems to care. Finally he gets to the meat, ''Well, we're here ain't we? The TLF sure have made good on their promises! More clapping, more yelling. ''We got Brother Mouzone here, and for the next-'', Jebediah looks at security off stage, ''For the next few…..minutes, Mr. Jeremy Falloon is gonna have a beer, and listen to what Mouzone's gots' to say, and then he's gonna say a few thing's to us! More clapping. More happy yelling.

Mouzone is eloquent, yet firm, in a 10 minute diatribe that rails against the state of the Warrens. He implicates the Corporate Court, Falloon, the CAS, and UCAS governments at the state of CalFree. Mouzone declares that Orktown should be considered a fully recognized legal zone of Denver at large. He is inspiring to some, disturbing to others.


Mouzone steps back and turns to Falloon. Metahuman pride fills the air. Racism too. National elections, the on-going CalFree war, racial tension in a city overwhelmed with magical terrorism. The last thing Denver needs is a race riot. It's synchronicity that Mouzone of all people, only now, could have had this opportunity. The two men shake firm hands. Connor, former President of the TLF, sits in the wings shaking with jealousy. This should be his, he paid in blood for this. Falloon whispers something in Mouzone's ear and….time…..slows……down.


The Gunman pulls the trigger. Two shots ring out, almost simultaneously.

Mouzone's head explodes like an over-ripe pumpkin. His tusks impale the floorboards. Mouzone goes down. Falloon goes down. Security is on top of the bodies, Mouzone's private bodyguard charges into the mass. KE opens a tide of ammo into the ork and he disappears into ribbons of meat and chrome. Derek O'Neal rips patches of his hair out simultaneously crying and laughing as he kneels in a puddle of blood. Who knows how many are watching this unfold all across the city tonight….


Small flameless explosions rock the front of the crowd and they start running in confusion. The quasi-peaceful crowd is now pure anarchy. Horsemen clear a swath for Metal Dave to get the hell out. Floodlights get shot out. Screams everywhere. Random bips of automatic gunfire illuminate pockets of metahumanity. Police sirens wail all across downtown. Trideo footage shows a pale and flopping Falloon being carried away off stage. The last image broad casted is Mouzone's headless body. Double Tap flees the scene leaving the Panther Assault Cannon on the roof, helo's are already swarming rooftops with lights. The Gunman, slightly confused, slips away into the night.

Before the night is out- Fifty dead, hundreds injured in stampeding crowds, another hundred are arrested.


Mon Oct 8

Conflicting news outlets are rampant and fast. Falloon Dead! Falloon Gravely Injured! Falloon In Hiding? Presidential contenders are weighing in and pointing fingers. Racial animus runs high and across the city anti-ork hate crimes are already up 25 percent.

Meanwhile, Orktown's gone on lockdown. Metal Dave holds an emergency gang meeting in a bombed out building, the consensus: Show no mercy to anyone non-ork and batten down the hatches.


Fri Oct 12

The media blackout starts to lessen: Slowly news reports coming in of lone gunman shooting Reginald "Brother" Mouzone and Jeremy Falloon with a single bullet, but there's talk of a greater conspiracy. All Falloon information is still on lockdown. Numerous sources claiming the man is already dead and on ice somewhere. Knight Errant and Lone Star are offering large nuyen for any credible information concerning witnesses and suspects. Everywhere, metahumans are getting stopped, questioned, and frisked. It's dangerous times in downtown Denver to be meta and a shadowrunner.
Connor Jones, wanted for questioning by Knight Errant and now TLF President in hiding, releases a statement on Shadowland voicing sympathy for all parties involved and hoping for the guilty to be found and punished.

Derek O'Neal, witness to the Denver Grounds Assassination, tells press he has "an announcement" coming, but still recovering from shrapnel wounds.


Scavenged mortar rounds and RPG's strafe the northern edge of Orktown. Fires erupt and burn down two buildings in the aftermath. Half a dozen orks get killed. Tir Llwen claims ignorance. Things get tense. An hour later, sniper fire takes out seven elven gang members at Unseelie Court. Orktown claims ignorance. Things get very tense, no one's talking, and now both races worry that the pot is close to boiling over.
-

Sun Oct 14

Seven-7, one of the most powerful, dangerous, and hard to get chemicals on the black market. On the border of Ork Town is a large jury rigged apartment complex filled with SINless metahuman orks and troll, locally known as the "Grok Apartments". Families, gang members, the working poor all co-mingle together like the proverbial melting pot.

Two canisters explode on the second and fourth floors. The effects…..cramping, double vision, nausea are near instantaneous. The dead stack against doors and hallways as they try to leave the gas, some jump out windows to their deaths below. Screams and gurgles rise to a crescendo, and then, in a matter of minutes it is over with nearly one hundred dead or dying. The survivors retch outside the Grok Apartments and dial on black market cellphones for help. Portions of The Demo Boyz and The Horsemen gangs arrive on scene alternately stealing anything off the dead and howling for revenge. The combined forces plow through the Warrens towards Silver Horns territory. The elven gang releases a torrent of barbed arrow tips and rifle fire.

Motorcycles explode, a Demo Boyz lets off a well placed assault cannon shot breaching a hole in the Silver Horns defense.

A full on race war just started in the Warrens and it could explode beyond these walls any day now.


Tue Oct 18

News52 Exclusive aired last night, but it wasn't the big hit the network had hoped for , but what can you expect during Combat Biking playoffs?
The recap: Falloon's reportedly went into surgery for a damaged shoulder- the result of a gone shot. Falloon still hasn't commented, perhaps looking to see which way the wind blows. News52 speculates the possibility of two shooters, but doesn't go further. KE and Lone Star have "strong leads". The Tusk Liberation Front's been branded an official "terrorist organization" by the press, despite the execution of it's presumed leader in front of thousands of people.
News52 interviews the suave and charming Derek O'Neal, metahuman activist and Cal Ranger Vet. He says his views have changed since "the incident". Denver's metahumanity population is tribal and war-like, "…..look what's going on in the Warrens." Sure, some are good people, but without strict laws…anarchy. Derek O'Neal submits a new bill to the Council allowing broad powers of search and seizure of "suspicious" individuals who belong to any "organized disobedient group". He reveals he's partnered with construction and lobbying firm Isaiah Group, and is offering to help "fix the Warrens issue."


Tue Oct 23

Caleb holds court in the basement of The Ragdoll with a small cadre of human street samurai watching over. The man's features bend in the light, a subtle hint of magic use. He connects to Command through a sat-linked cyberdeck with an encrypted transmission, filtered through an old school SQUID burst. »>Phase Two has been initiated, Phase One compromised with possible leak. I will see how to rectify and pivot for leverage. Standing by for next order.«<


Connor, newly re-elected leader of the few remaining and not in jail members of the TLF, pays a hefty smuggling fee and makes it back to Orktown under cover of darkness. Meanwhile Tir snipers manage to whack two of the political activists dumb enough to stand in the open as Orktown hunkers down for the evening.

Molotov cocktails blast a a scouting group of Elves on motorcycles. The Horsemen quickly raid the remaining supplies. Things are getting worse each night.


Trideo Commercial, inset are two suspicious and criminal looking male orks standing in front of a downtown apartment complex. A ghostly overlay of the Ork Freedom Rally, followed by piped in gunshot noises, screams, and a static image of Derek Falloon injured by a bullet.
The screen fades to black, "After a long day at work, do you need to worry about coming home?" a soft fatherly voice intones, "Support Proposition 87-B, tell your council person it's whats right. A better city, a safer city."

This message brought to you by The Freedom Committee of People For Safety.


Thu Oct 25

Downtown Denver. Gleaming towers overlook the expanse of the twinkling city. Far out at the edge, the chaos of the Warrens is a slight blip of shifting light. High above in a penthouse at a private dinner, certain interested parties with open ears and deep pockets nod at logical possibilities presented by one Derek ONeal. Better race relations, Inclusion of CalFree into Denver, possibilities of new treaty measures to take the Warrens off everyones hands in a profitable way. In one corner, Jeremy Falloon, his arm in a sling, but otherwise all healed up listens with a poker face. Derek ONeal wraps up his pitch with these parties when he gets a text and excuses himself for a moment. He smiles.


The fighting on the border of Orktown and Tir EXPLODES after a tension filled week. A pitched battle begins with a few potshots and quickly rises to a crescendo of rattling automatic weapons and yells. Home made molotovs and zip guns compete with sawed off shotguns, scoped rifles, hand to hand cybercombat. The Horsemen lead a charge on bikes through a hole in the Tir defenses. The Leafcutters swarm like white blood cells hoping to choke off any gained territory.


Meanwhile…..Enzo, ork decker and all around curious shadowrunner, has had some suspicions ever since the gas attack in Orktown. He works his contacts, and gets a clue the chemical was Seven-7. Nasty stuff. The decker jacks into the Matrix and leaves the meat behind. Hours later hes got a better idea of who could get access. The black market, sure, but someone with the resources, some advanced military knowledge, and access to pharmaceutical or chemical compound distributors could get their hands on Seven-7 on the legit.


Vollo, Confetti, and Slur a trio of shadowrunners and hardline elven supporters wont stand for this bulldrek. Vollo and Confetti set up a temporary base at Twilight, arming half a dozen more experienced Leafcutters with APDS filled machine pistols. The Horsemen get a break and roll in carving a path of destruction heading towards Twilight.


Quickly Slur summons a city spirit to conceal the Commando group and casts invisibility on Vollo and himself to watch his friends back, the drain is no match for courage and a dose of Psyche.
Vollo quickly coordinates a counter attack against the Horsemen, tucking into cover to shout commands . He snap fires into a pair of orks, their brains cobweb across each other. Vollo smiles.
Confetti rolls her shoulders and sets up a defensive position around Twilight. A group of berserker orks plow through Vollos offense ignoring bullets like rain drops. But these orks werent counting on Confettis skills as a bodyguard. Lightning fast she tussles with the berserkers in a flurry of punches and close fired shots. They go down and stay down. Confetti wipes blood from a massive wound across her abdomen, its bad, but shes alive. The fight is a near repeat of The Alamo. But the trio manage to hold the Twilight from take over. But at what cost?


Where there are gang wars there are casualties. Gangers, sure, but for something this big also the poor souls caught in the crossfire: the friends, the hangers-on, the hapless. Dill, Fray's charitable street doc contact, will be busy in the Rez. The dwarf street samurai spends the night in full armor helping the doc providing medical supplies, tending first aid and finally smuggling a dying elven boy missing most of his chest out of the Warrens. The dwarf won' t forget this night and Dill won't forget the help she got.


In another part of Denver, The Gunman makes his way to The Ragdoll. He went through a well known and very discreet decker to scope out buyers. Buyers for what? Verifiable bragging rights to who offed TLF President Brother Mouzone and injured Falloon. The Gunman made contact with a potential buyer with the handle "Caleb" who seemed more legit than most of the run of the mill supremacist types. Caleb wanted to meet somewhere off the Highway and this was the spot he picked. The Gunman waits across the street for some time, no obvious police presence and seems legitimate. He makes his way to the deal…..


Ork Town reaches a fever pitch of violence. El Croc is back and hes been jonesing for some murder. A full on race war just happens to be the prescription. Tonight he wears the old colors of the Sons of Sauron while fighting with the Horsemen, raiding supplies and being a juggernaut of destruction. He gets pinned down by targeted sniper fire thirteen stories above. On goes the Ruthenium cloak. Up goes the Croc to counter-attack. Tick Tick Tick. The monster of a man reaches a bombed out rooftop and eviscerates one sniper with a slew of lucky shots. The other attempts a parkour move to a new rooftop on the Tir side and falls to his death. Croc like.


Rex is a big, big dude with big, big cojones. The troll lumbers to the front lines of the battle for Twilight and- dual wielding Ares Alphas with grenade launchers, provides suppressive fire for retreating Horsemen fleeing Vollo's counter-attack. He stands in clear cover, steely eyed and calm as he mows down a cadre of Elf gangers foolish enough to see if Rex is still there. Finally, someone lobs a home made stun grenade lands at Rex's feet. He keeps firing unimpressed with the explosive. This one has enough force to actually cause him to pause firing his weapons. The Horsemen are very impressed and quickly pull Rex back to safety before they lose this asset as they set up defenses. Before the night is over, Rex has new admirers and a small concussion.


Skitter, a troll shaman with a name that fits, is in it for himself. He casts a spell to blend into the carnage and stealthily moves from dead body to dead body picking at carcasses and the detritus of battle for something worthwhile to take back to his bolthole. Guns, armor, phones, anything magical. He gathers what he can sprinting for safety as a shoot out breaks out around him.


The October Surprise goes down as one of the Warrens most violent nights in recent ghetto memory. What should have been a surprise attack from the Horsemen and company somehow broke into a pitched battle. Last minute guerrilla tactics from the Leafcutters and a group of shadowrunners managed to hold onto prized elven territory, but at a cost of almost 200 dead elven coalition members to a few dozen ork and trolls. Conversely, the pure violent blood lust coming from Orktown seemed to trump any strategic movements after the failed initial blitzkrieg. All over Orktown fighters are scrambling for new munitions and ammo to replace the nights depletion.

Elsewhere other criminal interests watch to see what happens next. Could they gain from this? For if this fighting continues, if these two races weaken and bleed each other enough, it could lead to internal conflicts….or worse, if this gang war continues too much longer. When is enough, enough?


Sun Oct 28

Denver Airport, Sun Oct 28 18:37:48 2072. As Jeremy Falloon sits in the airport's executive lounge enjoying the finest quality alcohol, he watches his plane fuels up for a trip to Seattle. A new trade initiative for the two city-states. Derek O'Neal stands by the tinted window chatting with Jeremy. "Frankly, Mr. Falloon, I think the situation is out of hand. Certain contacts of mine witnessed some of the events two nights ago, and they personally swore it's only a matter of time till this reaches our doorsteps."
Falloon, human sphinx, gives a glance to the activist, "I've heard your pitch Derek.Just as I told you before, I'll think on it. There's an election coming up, things are delicate, the Council mulling over this Isaiah Group recommendation. Just drop it." The men sit in silence for a moment. Something flashes and then there is no sound.


KSAF News in brief: » Reports are quickly coming in. A VTOL aircraft as hexploded on the Denver Airport tarmac, possibly the result of a suicide bomb attack (Cut to images of fire-trucks spraying down a plane, flashing lights everywhere). The VTOL aircraft is believed to have been designated for a flight that would have had Jeremy Falloon on board, however, he was unharmed and was not on board the plane at the time. However, two of his personal staff have been confirmed as being on the plane during the attack. Their names have not yet been released pending notification of kin. This is the second possible attempt on the councilman's life this month. Inside sources are speculating whether this may have been a result of extreme metahuman activists including recently branded terrorist organisation the "Tusk Liberation Front." More on this story, at 11.

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