Shadowrun Episode 1: Nine-Tenths

[TooManySecrets]

Shadowrun
Episode 1: Nine-Tenths


Your com rings. It's a request for an encrypted channel. You check the passcode and it's good - must be one of your former clients, though you don't recognize the com number.

"Mr. Archangel," says a voice on the other end. It's a husky sort of voice, the type that one would associate with a heavy smoker. Dry. You don't recognize it.

"I have a job for you. Where would you like to discuss it?"

[OverWilliam]

Archangel gave a look of surprise to the unfamiliar commcode requesting the encrypted comm channel. By habit, he glanced quickly around his surroundings before accepting. He had been walking though the local supermall, currently on the fourth floor, and had just walked out of a radioelectronics shop. He spotted an unoccupied bench off to the side and worked his way through the crosshatching traffic patterns and sat down. "Bunny, start recording," He muttered to Bunny, his semi-advanced Agent program that was always present in his commlink. In the small, square AR window in the corner of his vision, he saw the AR representation of his Agent's icon nod in ascent. Archangel answered.

"Mr. Archangel, I have a job for you. Where would you like to discuss it?"

Archangel smirked a little. "Well, new work is always a good thing, provided you pay well enough." He chuckled. This was unusual; usually job requests would come either through a Mercury dispatcher or a fixer that he had contacted himself. But he wasn't on duty with Mercury at that time, and he didn't recognize the caller, so it wasn't anyone he'd contacted looking for work previously. "I must admit, it's not often that work comes looking for me. Just as a matter of courtesy, might I inquire from whom you acquired my private commcode?" Archangel's tone was very pleasant and agreeable, but the question had two meanings. The first was obvious-- he did want to know from which contact this prospective employer had gotten the name 'Archangel' and the number at which he could be reached. But the second question, one that an amateur Mr. Johnson might miss, was asking for some measure of credentials before Archangel would agree to meet with him.

[TooManySecrets]

"You and your associate have started to get a name for yourselves," says the voice. "While this job falls a bit outside your usual purview, I thought that you would still be the best man for the job. I asked around and was able to get the comcode from a former client of yours. A Ms. Johnson. A few months ago, you helped her deliver a package of technical products to the harbor past a couple of aggressive buyers."

Whoever this guy is, he's played the game before. You remember the delivery: a package of experimental BTLs. A group of rent-a-thugs had tried to stop you, but you left them in the dust. You remember "Ms. Johnson", too. Cute brunette.

[OverWilliam]

"Ah." Archangel did remember that run; it was a highly unusual mission, but not at all an unpleasant one. As he recalled, the Ms. Johnson had insisted on speaking to the runner herself, an unusuality on the Mercury scene, but she paid well enough for it. Another thing-- she had explicitly told him what was to be in the package, and then insisted that he confirm that it was as it should be. Typically, Mercury offered multi-tiered Anonymity protection for its clients; it was a big selling point that the Runner would never know what it was that he delivered. "I remember who you're talking about. Nice girl. Cute, too. She probably played me for a fool, but I'm still none the wiser... and I'd let her pay me to do it again." Archangel laughed. "Actually I wouldn't mind another run with our Ms. J, and you can pass that along if you see her again before I do. But for now, I guess I'm stuck with you, eh?" Another casual laugh. Considering he's more of a Runner type, Archangel plays the Face unexpectedly well. "Well, that all sounds straight enough to me. Tell you what, there's this little club up-and-coming where I like to hang sometimes. Maybe you've heard of it-- it's called Infinity." 'Little club' and 'up-and-coming' being the understatements of the year, seeing as they happen to be applied to one of the most happening nightclubs of the decade. "You can head over there whenever you please. Tell them your name is Gabriel and that you're "here to meet with a kindred spirit." They'll know who you mean." This, of course, assumes that the Mr. Johnson can get into the nightclub, and secure one of the hottest, highest quality top-security meeting rooms in Seattle. "I'll swing by there sometime in the Single Digits tomorrow morning. Sound fair enough?"

[TooManySecrets]

"Infinity? Yes, I'm familiar with it. Make it 8:00am and I'll be there."

The voice chuckles. "Oh, and I'll tell Ms. Johnson you said 'hi'."

*click*

[OverWilliam]

Archangel smiled and closed the channel. "Heh." He sat there for a little while, thinking. "What do you think, Bunny?" He asked his Agent program, who to him was like her own person. "Hmm... You do need the work." Archangel laughed. This was true. Archangel stood up. "Well, I think I'm up for a ride before we get ready to meet our distinguished potential employer," He commented, keying the touch screen on his commlink and instantly sending the command to his state-of-the-art Thundercloud Contrail to meet him at the Mall's West entrance in 30 minutes. As he walked back into the constant stream of consumers and wage slaves around him, he blended perfectly into the crowd, just another somebody in a sea of nobodies, as he made his way across the Mall.

**********
7:30 AM, The Following Day
**********

Archangel pulled up to the main entrance of the nightclub Infinity. Typically parking was a nightmare, but after a while he had discovered the perfect spot for his treasured motorbike to wait for his return while he conducted his business (or pleasure) inside. The best part, it was its own valet. Archangel climbed off the bike and let it drive itself away, knowing that it would return with the push of a button, and walked up to the entrance.

Despite being a 'nightclub', Infinity and places like it were most often raising the roof all day and all night. Even in the wee hours of the morning when most of the Wageslaves needed to be leaving in order to get to work, in order to then pretend that they had merely overslept that morning, the lines were still huge to get in to the club. Many of the prospective partygoers looked like they'd been there for an hour or so already. Archangel walked right up past the line, on the other side of the velvet rope, and up to the Troll bouncer that was standing at the door. "Busy night, H'arleigh?" He asked the troll, who, like most people who worked in the nightclub, he was on a first-name basis with.

[TooManySecrets]

"Yeah"

H'arleigh was not the type to waste a sentence when a single, monosyllabic utterance would suffice.

He unhooks the velvet rope wordlessly and lets you in.

_/ _/ _/ _/ _/

Inside, Infinity is hopping. The air is misty (all those smoke machines) and laser lights play in intricate patterns. Center stage is a DJ hooked up like a spider in a web of electronic. The place is filled and has that sort of stifling heat that only so many people in close proximity can generate. The dance floor is an ocean of moving people, following a flow that's too complex for the eye.

Of course, the meatworld display is only part of the attraction. The augmented reality of Infinity is awash with all sorts of colors and buzz. It looks like a surrealist painter threw up and the entire thing flashes at a manic staccato. It's beautiful, in a way that can be appreciated by college-educated arts major and burned-out BTL addicts, though for much different reasons.

[OverWilliam]

While Archangel was neither of the above, his appreciation of the nightclub's atmosphere was on much the same level, by virtue of acquired taste if nothing else. Since about a year ago he'd begun frequenting the place quite often, and had come to understand the beat beneath the madness, the pulse behind the throbbing bass speakers. After enough black eyes and bruised limbs, one develops a sixth sense for the crowd's seemingly random movements, and Archangel slipped through with a familiarity that could only come from experience.

Moving up to the bar off to the side, Archangel called the Keep over. "What's up, Barrett?" He almost had to shout over the music, but the other man heard. "Somebody's here waiting to see me?"

[TooManySecrets]

Could you send me all the character info again? I can't find the thread. I'm pretty sure you had Barrett as a contact and described what he looked like. I'll change his appearance if needed.

Barrett was a big man. Long jagged scar on his face. He's told you that he got it when an unruly customer slashed him with a broken bottle a number of years ago, but you suspect that the real tale is a bit more colorful.

He nods at you. "Yeah, a suit came in just a few minutes ago. Got a whiskey sour on the rocks and I pointed him up to the suites."

He reaches under the bar and takes out an e-card. It has a blue infinity symbol on a white background on it.

"Number 7. Security as you wanted it, as usual."

"I'd be careful about this one," he says as he passes you the card. "He smells like money and influence. AAA-corps maybe. People like them tend to be ruthless. I'd hate a cleaner to be sent after you ... while you still have an outstanding tab." Despite the joke, Barrett's concern shows on his face.

[OverWilliam]

((I'll PM it to you. Barrett isn't the contact listed, though, so it's fine however you want to describe him. The people that work at Infinity would be friends and contacts of Candice's, so any little favors they do for him, like being on the 'Knows Somebody' list, are really done more for Candice rather than for him personally... though he is starting to get to know them better for himself. Once I get some Karma, I'm going to try adding 'Infinity Staff' as a lower rated Group contact (Runner Companion, p124).))

Archangel nodded and palmed the card. "Thanks, Barrett. I'm not sure what this guy's angle is either... he hasn't told me much at all. I'll be careful." He paused for a moment. "...How's Candy doing? Is she... um... well, is she... doing ok with everything...?" Awkward pause. "I... I hope she hasn't been... having to-- well... Nevermind." It was hard to ask the question, but Barrett already knew what he meant. Of course it wasn't easy to ask another man whether one's half sister was still moonlighting as a joygirl...

[TooManySecrets]

"Isn't what? Selling her body? You know I don't allow that sort of stuff in here. I run a clean ship and Candy's clean." He seems almost insulted that you would suggest that Infinity is anything but above board. He smiles though, to lessen the sting. "Don't worry. I'm looking out for her."

Barrett's blunt, but a good man. As far as you know. You still don't quite believe his story about the scar, but a man's allowed his privacy.

[OverWilliam]

Archangel nodded. "Ok, thanks Barrett. Take care, huh?" As though he had forgotten, Archangel then remembered the throbbing music and raving dancing around him. He moved off for the stairs, dodging an especially drunk Orc couple who seemed to be throwing random punches at people as a way of bonding with each other. What Barrett had said was somewhat reassuring... but all it meant was that nothing was happening that he knew about. Archangel already knew that Candy had been agreeing to 'meetings' with interested patrons from the club in the past. The fact that Barrett didn't seem to know about it just suggested to him that Candy had been discreet... which meant that it could still be happening, and Barrett was just in the dark.

Archangel muffled the conflicting doubts in his head for the time being. He decided to trust his half-sister for now... And turned his attention to the task at hand.

Finding the stairs, which were just as crowded with excited dancers, Archangel made his way up to the second level and to the high-sec rooms in the back. As he went, he looked down at the e-card he was given for the room. Blue. Interesting.

Infinity's high-sec rooms were all done in a single color scheme; as you progressed up the ROYGBIV 'rainbow scale' of colors, the higher the security of the room got... and the more expensive. Apparently this Johnson had deemed this run appropriate for a Blue room... Archangel frowned. He hadn't suspected it was overly serious until now, but with the combination of the Johnson's complete lack of details over the Commcall, Barrett's warning, and now this... "...I'm starting to get a bad feeling about this one, Bunny..." Though the Agent lacked the processing power (or the programming) to connect the same dots that he had, it was keyed to react to his emotional state, and so as he glanced at the AR overlay containing Bunny's icon, he saw her looking back at him with a concerned, somewhat nervous glance.

By the time Archangel found the correct room, the crowd had thinned out almost completely. Random dancers were not typically found all the way up here; first of all, there wasn't a very good view of the dance floor, and the music was somewhat muffled, so most patrons wouldn't want to be all the way back here. The other reason was that patrons with no real reason to be there were... Escorted back to the dance floor if they hung around acting suspicious for too long. Archangel waited a moment, just to make sure the area around him was clear, and then keyed the lock, opening the door and stepping inside...

[TooManySecrets]

((You wouldn't have happened to play Paranoia before, would yah?))

"Ah, Mr. Archangel. Please, come in"

Mr. Johnson is seated comfortably at the far end of the conference table, like he belongs there. No goons in monkeysuits, just him. Strange.

The man is probably in his early 60s. Hair greying in most places. His face is lined in a way that comes from a lifetime of stress. The suit he's wearing is custom cut. Expensive; probably costs more than you make in a month if not a year. It's also very traditional looking. The fashion is at least 50 years old. A pair of horn-rimmed glasses rest lightly on his nose.

He looks like somebody's grandfather. Or a mob boss. It's depressing that it's somehow become so hard to tell the difference.

Mr. Johnson motions to the chairs in front of him. "We have business to discuss," his voice like gravel.

[OverWilliam]

((No... why? After a quick Google search, if it's the color coding thing that's straight out of the manual (Runner Havens, p109).))

As Archangel entered the room, he absorbed all of the information about the Johnson and his (lack of) bodyguard detail with a single gestalten glance, magic-enhanced attention to detail absorbing every clue. When offered a seat, Archangel smiled cooly, then randomly picked a seat three seats down the conference table from the Johnson's. "We do indeed, starting with the basics. I'll say now, if it wasn't for our shared Contact, I would not have met with you at all given so little information, and if I was smarter than I am, I'd have wanted more than that. You understand the risk I'm taking here already-- I have no idea who you are." Despite his words, though, Archangel seemed completely at ease.

[TooManySecrets]

((Maybe that's where Runner Haven got it from. Paranoia is famous for using ROYGBIV for security clearance. Then again, Shadowrun has used ROYGBIV for node security before.))

"Then allow me to introduce myself. My name is Michael Pryor. I run Minoc Industries." He holds up a hand to forestall any questions. "I realize that it might not be standard procedure to use actual identities, but this job I'm hiring you for is completely legitimate. There's also no sensitive information that you might find while on this job that could damage me or Minoc Industries, so really all this 'Mr. Johnson' and cloak-and-dagger business is complete nonsense. I will, however, respect your right to anonymity if you wish it."

He looks at you directly in the eyes. "The job I'm hiring you to do is rather simple. My business partner has gone missing. I want you to find him."

[OverWilliam]

Archangel was taken aback by the sudden exposure of personal details, but his surprise led more into 'now we're getting somewhere' than 'what have I gotten myself into.' He glanced over at Bunny, who nodded-- she had already started a Matrix Search for the keywords 'Michael Pryor' and 'Minoc Industries.' Within only a few seconds relevant information began popping up on his AR overlay, with more streaming in as the Agent program found it.

"Well... that's something, then." He said carefully. Not that Archangel immediately believed the man's story, he knew better, but in spite of himself he wanted to. The first question that jumped into his head was why this Mr. John-- erm... this 'Michael Pryor' had picked him for a missing person trackdown. Or why he needed a Shadowrunner at all-- Lone Star would take the money just as discretely (or even more so) as a Runner would reasonably be expected to be, and with a lot less risk involved. But these could wait until he heard all of the details. "...You have my attention."

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]

EDIT: Oops...

[OverWilliam]

Let's try those rolls again...

Bunny's search rolls (Agent 3 + Browse 3):

Interval 1: [roll0] ** [1 hit]
Interval 2: [roll1] ** [2 hits]
Interval 3: [roll2] ** [3 hits]
Interval 4: [roll3] ** [2 hits]

Data Search (SR4, p219-220) is an Extended Test, with an interval of 1 Minute for full Matrix searches, against a threshold of your setting.

[TooManySecrets]

((I'll get full Data Search results to you a bit later))

"You're probably wondering why I'm being so open," he says, leaning back slightly. "And the answer is discretion. Lone Star is good at knocking down doors and, if you pay them enough, finding reasons to harass certain inconvenient people. Even if I made a task force of Lone Star officers sign non-disclosure agreements in triplicate, word would still get out to the wrong type of people; Lone Star is infiltrated top to bottom." He almost sounds disgusted as he says it.

The stuff you're getting over AR is that Minoc Industries is interested in nanotech. And, as far as you can tell, it's owned by Michael Pryor. There's a picture on the frontpage of Mr. Pryor and someone identified as Tycho Minoc handing over some sort of award to a bunch of kids for some reason. Publicity. They're all smiling, of course, for the photo op. The Mr. Pryor in the picture appears to be the Mr. Pryor in front of you.

"You see, my business partner is Tycho Minoc, son of the original owner of Minoc Industries, Alexander Minoc. 20 years ago I bought majority share of the company from Alexander, but I kept the kid on. He's good with publicity and we can still legitimately claim that it's a family-owned business."

Medical nanotech, specifically, though what "medical nanotech" curtails will take a bit more digging.

"Tycho's a good kid, but he's got some quasi-legal hobbies. Nothing that a bit of nuyen won't make disappear if he's caught and my lawyer's salaried so it doesn't matter to me how often we're in court. I'm worried that Tycho's hobbies got the better of him and he stepped in something that he shouldn't have."

From what you can see, Minoc Industries has a pretty much flawless record. You can't exactly read between the lines right now, since your attention is more on the client, but you save the information for later.

Mr. Pryor reaches below the desk and takes out a briefcase. You've learned from past experience that it's possible to hide a specialized SMG in a briefcase so you tense up a bit.

He takes out a dossier and slides it down to you.

"Inside you'll find all the information about Tycho Minoc that I have deemed relevant to your job. You'll also find a copy of his house's keycard." You flip open the dossier and sure enough a keycard is taped to one side. A cursory look shows the info seems relatively thorough. "In the event of Tycho's absence, I have power of attorney over his affairs so I give you permission to enter his house."

He takes out two sheets of heavy duty paper and slides them your way. "A standard non-disclosure agreement which states that you will not talk about what you find relating to Tycho Minoc or Minoc Industries while working for us during the contract period," he says by way of explanation. "The second sheet is a contract which states that you will attempt to find Tycho Minoc, alive or deceased, and then report the findings to me or a noted representative. The contract period extends from the moment you sign to when you find Tycho Minoc or 1 month, whichever comes first. In return, you'll receive ¥10,000 up front and ¥10,000 when you're through."

He smiles. "My lawyer is topnotch. He was able to find a loophole that let's you sign using an alias, if you wish. Took him a full night of hard work but that's why he gets paid the big bucks."

He continues to smile. "Since the contract is filled with legalese and I didn't want to include certain instructions, let me lay your job out for you. Find Tycho Minoc. If he's alive, good. If he's in trouble, I'll expect you to render as much help as you can, though you're not obligated to do so. If he's dead, you're to tell me and return anything that he has on him before I inform the authorities of his death. I suggest you don't leave any fingerprints. If he's dead and the cops have his body, you're to tell me and your obligation ends. You're not required to face down Lone Star."

"Any questions?" He spreads his arms in front of him in an open gesture.

[OverWilliam]

((Whenever's fine.))

Archangel fell silent for a moment, thinking things over. There were a lot of connections to make, even for his magically enhanced thought process. "...¥20,000." He mused out loud. Gradually enough, things started dropping into place.

"I don't see any other 'runners here. And you only have one set of contracts there, which means that's all you're expecting-- just me." Pause.

"¥20,000 is a pretty decent price-- you could pay two people with that, three for a low-key job like a Missing Person. Even better for a DoA. Even counting the extra discretion required." Pause. "...Put those two together, and it means that you really want this as quiet as possible-- fewer people in the know means fewer chances for word to get to the wrong ears. ...Or the other option, only dealing with one runner makes after the fact 'clean up' easier for you, in which case it would only cost you ¥10,000 all told." Nothing personal-- the suspicion keeps you young. And, with a touch of luck, not dead.

"The other thing is this 'contract' business. Corps don't deal in contracts with runners-- we break the 'Law' every day, what makes you think a Contract is going to be binding? The only reason you'd bring a contract to this meeting is because you want a paper trail. That contract isn't for me, it's for somebody else. Isn't it?" Archangel shook his head. "But, you've been rather unorthodox about this already. Considering how discreet you're acting like this needs to be, you're being very... divulging. But I know there's got to be something you're not telling me. Something big." Archangel thought for a few moments more.

Even despite the solid points he was making, though, and he could go even further with more time to reason, he still wanted to take the job at face-value. This Tycho Minoc sounded like a decent kid, and when Michael Pryor claimed that he didn't have anything to hide, Archangel honestly thought he was telling the truth.

It didn't help that they had the same name.

Deep breath. It was these kinds of decisions that got him in the most trouble. That didn't much change the fact that he kept making them. "Do you have a pen?"

[TooManySecrets]

Mr. Pryor smiles as he hands over an expensive black-with-gold-trim pen. "Ah, the legendary paranoia of Shadowrunners," he looks rueful, "I thought the contract would have reassured you, but I guess not."

"And you are right. I do want to keep this relatively low-key, but there needs to be a paper-trail as well. Imagine what would happen if Tycho's body washes up on the shore a week from now and there isn't any evidence that I even attempted to find him. That's the sort of scandal that our competitors could use to destroy Minoc Industries. It's not like the public especially trusts nanotech anyways so it wouldn't be all that hard."

He looks at you. "If your worried about being a deniable asset, go ahead and tell some of your friends at Mercury whatever information you deem necessary. As long as the info doesn't show up on the infonet, I could care less but my lawyer tends to be anal about nondisclosure. I won't tell him if you don't." He smiles a short little smile.

"Overall, the importance of any info you're going to find out is going to have a relatively short shelf-life in terms of useful. If you or anyone else tried to blackmail Minoc Industries, we'd just have to wait. We've weathered worst storms." Looking at the stress-lines creasing his face, you believe it.

"You're not only a talented courier, but you've proven that you can defend yourself in combat and, more importantly, that you know how to talk to people. If anybody knows where Tycho Minoc is, it's going to be one of his friends in those quasi-legal hobbies I told you about. They'll scatter if a suit like me or Lone Star tries to talk with them, but they'll talk to you."

[OverWilliam]

((Since I made that last post I remembered that Archangel has the Multi-tasking Adept power, which lets him concentrate on multiple, normally highly distracting things with perfect attention paid to each (so the bit about paying more attention to the Client than the AR feed wouldn't make sense-- he could pay complete attention to both). It's not too important and I don't think we need to change anything, but just so you are aware of it for future posts.))

Archangel accepted the pen, and then listened carefully to the rest of Pryor's explanation. It was true that having the co-owner and probable Heir Apparent of Minoc Industries was an extremely delicate position to be in, particularly if the company had competitors that were not above utilizing the shadier methods to gain the upper hand that Mr. Pryor seemed to prefer avoiding. It would be bad enough if they only tried to smear Minoc Industries' public image (and stock options); in a worst case scenario, an opposing corp could try to find the wayward owner themselves... and who could be sure what they would do with him then. Archangel nodded slowly as he thought. The contract... the keycard... the legal permissions straight from the CEO to begin investigating... this had to be done right if it was done at all, because were it done wrong the company could still take huge losses even if Tycho was returned safely.

Or, this could be a very elaborate, nearly flawless setup by a random Mr. Johnson with more experience and skill than Archangel could imagine. ...Somehow, that didn't seem like the case to Archangel.

"All right, I'll do it." Archangel said, signing the contracts without further hesitation. His mind was made up. "One more thing, though... after the one month, if I still havn't found Young Master Minoc... is that it? You stop looking?"

[TooManySecrets]

"No, but that's when your contract period will be up. We can renegotiate if necessary, but if Tycho isn't found within a month, I'll probably bring in Lone Star. Maybe even sooner, if circumstances warrant it."

Mr. Pryor takes the contract and nondisclosure agreement from you. He then pulls out a thin black gadget and pulls each of the papers through it. Reaching into his briefcase, he takes out two blank papers and pulls them through the gadget.

He hands over the two copies.

[OverWilliam]

Archangel accepted the contract copies, and also slid the dossier that Pryor had provided over to his side of the table, and opened it. As he carefully read through the dossier, he also scanned through the AR feed that Bunny was still compiling.

[If] the Dossier does not make mention of it, Archangel will ask, "If you suspect that Tycho's... debatably legal hobbies are involved in his disappearance, then I'll need more information on what those hobbies were."

Just setting up an infodump for ya... :smalltongue:

The Dossier and the AR feed are both getting an Observe In Detail action, which because of Multitasking (Street Magic, p178) are a Free action, of which I also get two per round because of the same power.

[TooManySecrets]

((Current year is 2072, by the by.))



FOR LONE STAR INTERNAL USE ONLY


IID 54-081C-7600
LBN 408E

Name: Tycho Minoc
Known Aliases: None
SIN: [REDACTED]
DOB: 03-12-2049

Last Known Residence: 1512 East Howell St., Apt-117

Appearance:

Race: H,W
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 180
Hair: Black
Eyes: Blue
Distinguishing Marks: None
Tattoos: None


Offense Record:

08-03-2066: Possession, Misdemeanor - FINED - C#058-31-1490
03-12-2067: Street Racing - FINED - C#043-1E-8181
07-05-2071: Possession, Misdemeanor - WARNING

Cross-Reference: Minoc Industries; G#[REDACTED]




[A general floor plan of Tycho Minoc's apartment. Looks ritzy.]




[A print-out of a news article talking about Tycho's inheritance of his father's share of the company. Excerpt below.]

[...] The elder Mr. Minoc has been well known in the business world for years, having struck a name for himself by his no-nonsense business sense and his ability to outperform his competitors. Despite having no previous business experience and having to raise the initial capital himself, Alexander Minoc was able to make Minoc Industries one of the leading innovators in medical nanotech. [...] 18 years ago, Alexander Minoc signed on Michael Pryor, already well-known for his freelance work, as a business partner. [...] In the press conference, Tycho Minoc promised to carry on his legacy of excellence and has announced that they will soon be starting a renewed research campaign. While Tycho Minoc did not explain what the focus of the research would be, inside sources suggest that it will be related to reconnecting damaged nervous tissue. [...]




Bunny doesn't seem to be able to find any new and/or startling information. What's she finding is mostly more in-depth, but all of the info seems to be pretty mundane. Either Minoc Industries is a legitimate, clean business or everyone involved in it is so good at keeping secrets that there isn't even a whisper of a rumor in the Matrix. It's possible - but once you start down that path of supremely paranoid thinking, there really isn't any end to it.

[OverWilliam]

Archangel pulled the keycard from the dossier, pocketed it, and then slid the rest back across the table back to Pryor. His copy of the contract and nondisclosure agreement he folded up and tucked into his coat pocket. He nodded. "Ok, everything looks solid enough. Assuming I learn or find something, how do you want me to contact you? Other than that, I'll be taking my advance payment and seeing you hopefully sometime sooner than a Month from now."

Archangel stood.

[TooManySecrets]

((Back again. Had more computer woes, but they're all fixed now. Permanently. Forever))

Mr. Pryor casually hands over a glossy black credstick. "¥10,000. Check if you wish. It's clean."

"As for contacting me, call the office. Probably goes against your grain, I know, but it's simple enough and my secretary is discrete. He'll be able to get in contact with me at any hour."

He stands as well, extending a hand to shake. "I look forward to hearing from you and, hopefully, Tycho as well."

[TooManySecrets]

_/ _/ _/ _/ _/

The arms dealer, a friend of a friend of Mr. FixIt (who's been with Mercury for a several months now), told you to meet him at some place on the outskirts of the Auburn district. It's majorly ghetto - dirty, sagging apartment buildings filled with people who can't find a way out of the hand that life dealt them - and the sort of place that cops don't like to frequent, at least if they value their life. You've got a sort of love-hate relationship with urban landscapes like this. On one hand, it's filled with pimps, pushers, thieves, and the victims they play on. One wrong step in the wrong place means that you could be going home in a ziplock bag. On the other hand, that's part of the thrill. Can't really say that you've lived until you've run across the rooftops, jumping from building to building, avoiding gunfire from a group of thugs.

You see the dealer before he sees you. Leaning against a white-panel van in a designer-knockoff Urban Brawl shirt, eyes hidden behind silvered aviators, he looks like the arms dealer extra in every vidshow you've ever seen. Mr. FixIt warned you that he's the type of person who thinks he's big-stuff, but in truth he's strictly low-level. But he has the hardware you need and he's trustworthy - as long as it's good for business. In short, dealing with him is a necessary evil.

Every so often he glances to the dilapidated apartment building behind him. Paranoid. Or he's got backup in case things get heavy.

[OverWilliam]

((I'm sorry, Secrets, I had a whole post written up yesterday morning buy my stupid computer ate it, and I've been rather slammed since. :smallfrown: I'll try and write it back up for you and then skip ahead to the Fixer.))

Archangel accepted the credstick with a nod, but checking the stick's RFID ARO for its current balance was as closely as he examined it. For the moment. "I don't typically like running with strings to tie me down, and any kind of schedule makes me chafe, but in this case I'll make a small exception. I've got some quick prep-work to take care of, but once that's out of the way I think I'll swing by the Tycho estate first. Just in case you need to let anyone know I'm coming." Archangel moved to the door with an easy stride. "Check you later," He said with a wink and a charmer grin as he disappeared back out into the throbbing atmosphere of the dance club.

_/ _/ _/ _/ _/

Archangel observed the dealer for a little while, noting body language and his general attitude for a short bit. While he had come to the meeting with the Johnson dressed in his 'business casual,' he had taken the opportunity after leaving the meeting and while waiting for a reply from Mr. FixIt to get decked out in his runner finery. The armored camouflage blurred him into the shadows of his chosen environment not quite as well as adaptive cammo might, but well enough to allow the extra protection that the bullet-resistant padding added. Strapped to the armored over-vest of the suit were the tools of his trade; few and streamlined, but each with a specific use. Said uses varied from piece to piece; deducing that of the knives strapped on at strategic locations wasn't hard, but the other devices ranged from RFID tag erasure, to detection of electronics, to detection of other people. This last one was the one that Archangel chose now; lifting the eyepiece that was hanging around his neck by its rubber headband, Archangel keyed the switch along the side that activated its Thermographic vision enhancement, held it to one eye over top of the goggles that he always wore underneath, and gave the entire area in front of him a quick examination, looking for clues that he should be aware of.

Archangel then stepped out of the shadows and walked, straightforward but not intentionally drawing attention to himself, toward the dealer. Both of his Commlinks were on Hidden mode-- it could typically be gotten away with in the Sprawls. Still, the direct approach was often the best in situations such as these. They both knew why he was here, there was no reason to startle the man by appearing suddenly from behind. "How's life treating you?" Archangel asked casually, waiting for the pre-agreed upon reply. It was just a formality, really, but it helped to break the ice.

[TooManySecrets]

((Don't worry about it.))

Say what you will about how they built things in the old days, but one thing you can't dispute is how thick they built their walls. You think that you caught a flash of heat at a window or two, but it was only momentary. Probably squatters. Probably. Of course, with those thick walls there could be an entire army inside the building and you wouldn't see them if they keep away from the windows.

The arms dealer doesn't even look at you. "Like a clockwork fraggin' orange." The "fraggin'" wasn't exactly part of the codephrase. "So," he turns and looks at you appraisingly past tinted sunglasses, "a little birdy told me that you need some clean hardware. If you've got the chop, then I've got the lead n' brass."

[OverWilliam]

Archangel grinned. "Fair enough. Here," He said, pulling a standard issue credstick from his pocket and flipping it through the air for the dealer to catch (or embarrass himself by not). "A ¥500 advance. I'm looking for a new pistol. Details depend on what you've got, but I'll pay a reasonable price for extra features. I've been told you're the guy, but I figured I'd see it for myself." He smiled conspiratorially, crossed his arms patiently, and waited to be shown the dealer's stock.

[TooManySecrets]

The dealer holds up his arms. "What you take me for? Somebody who doesn't keep an inventory around?" He walks over to the back of his van, opens it up (after giving it a whack with his hand to deal with a sticky latch), and then motions you over.

There's a blanket on the floor with visible lumps underneath. He flips the blanket over revealing his stock. Pistols, mostly, but also a few hunting rifles and shotguns.

"Now, this, my friend," he says, carefully picking up a sleek, black pistol, "is the weapon for you. The Walther Secura Kompakt." He flips it over, like he was displaying the gun in a showroom. "Point 45 caseless. 650 grams without a clip. Semi-automatic. Nine shots. Integrated Smartlink, already patched to firmware update 1.57. Serial's filed off. RFIDs are burnt. This baby's got firepower in a small, concealable package. Never been used in combat. Yours right now for 750 chop. I'll throw in three clips for free."

[OverWilliam]

Archanged nodded in appreciation. "A beut. May I?" He accepted the gun from the dealer, cycled the action a few times, then locked the slide back and examined the barrel. He tended to doubt that it was as virgin as the dealer claimed, but even so it had been immaculately maintained. "Mmhmm," He said, hefting the gun in his palm to get a feel for its weight and fit for his hand. With a quick thought and an instant instruction, his smartlink reached out to the pistol's internal system requesting synch up. As expected, the weapon responded requesting the encryption code to be permitted access to its Smartlink features, a code that would be withheld until after the sale was complete. Archangel thumbed the manual slide release, which sent the chamber slamming back closed with a smart snap. "Gotta give you props, my man, you know your stuff. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't mind acquiring a full-sized Walther Secura to match, Smartlink included of course. I don't suppose you have the two of them packaged together in a group discount...?" He flashed a smile. The guy was admittedly bigger in his own eyes than he was in person, but Archangel kinda liked him. The fact that he was well connected and useful, for a price, was bonus.

[TooManySecrets]

"Sure, why not? I like you, so let's see here..." He looks through his stock again and brings out another gun, slightly larger than the other one but in the same sleek style. "Here ya go. The Walther Secura. Fine weapon. This gun, plus the Kompakt, plus I'll throw in three clips for each, all for the fine price of thirteen-hundred."

He's obviously going to still make a profit off this sale, but it seems like a pretty good deal.

[OverWilliam]

Archangel held a smile, though his voice took on a business sort of tone. Not threatening or accusatory, but business all the same. "Wow, sounds like a pretty good deal... for one of us." Archangel laughed. "Well, it's your lucky day, my friend, as I don't have time to try haggling you down for long. I'll tell you what. This is my first time owning a subcompact, so I don't own a holster in that size. If you throw in one for the Kompakt, Concealable if you've got it, I'll take them both at face price." He had expected to pay a little extra for the convenience of getting them on short notice, and for a trunk dealer with exactly what he wanted, he actually wasn't inflating the value by that much. After all, the guy did need to turn a profit.

Archangel produced another credstick and withdrew its balance down to the remaining ¥800 that would seal the deal.

((Just a note on credsticks... if I understand them correctly, anybody can withdraw funds out of a credstick, but only a bank can encode the credits onto it, which ensures that the money is legit (or that's the theory, at least)?))

[TooManySecrets]

((Pretty much, yeah. I'll probably have to look up the specifics again, but that's pretty much it as I remember it. It's pretty much like a pre-paid credit card.))

"Then it's a deal."

The dealer hands over the Kompakt along with some clips. He then starts rummaging in the back of the van for the other stuff.

During this deal maybe one or two cars had passed by. Beat-up junkers driven by tired eye people, you hadn't really paid much attention to them. However, you pay a lot of attention to the one coming down the street right now: it's a Knight Errant cop car.

The dealer glances up and sees the law right after you do. He motions you to be still. Obviously, this isn't the first time a cop has come by.

"Well, well, well," says the man who languidly steps out of the car. "If I didn't know better, Ernie, I'd say that something illegal was going down." The man is blonde and well-toned, his form bulked by the light body armor all Knight Errants wear on duty.

"Oh, of course not Officer McMann. Scout's honor." The dealer grins, but there's no humor behind it. The cop returns the plastic smile as he walks over. "Of course."

"Ernie, seems that I've run into a little bit of an extermination problem."

The dealer looks wary. "What sort?"

"Rat problem. Some of them are as big as orcs." He doesn't stop grinning. Charming.

The arms dealer sighs and takes out a large-bore shotgun, looks at it wistfully, before handing it over. The cop examines it. Satisfied, he grunts and starts turning around. He looks at you meaningfully and grins. The message - keep your mouth shut - is pretty obvious. He starts back into his car. "I'll pay you later, Ernie."

"Of course. Dreklicker."

You let go of your breath. You didn't even realize that you had been holding it. It's not that you're afraid of corp law - you've had pretty of run-ins in the past - it's just that most of the time you've had a rooftop between them and you.

A few minutes later you're the proud owner of a set of nine-irons, holsters, and ammo.

_/ _/ _/ _/ _/

((Where to next?))

[OverWilliam]

Archangel witnessed the goings down silently, but with an air of amusemeny about him that betrayed his thoughts on seeing the self-important dealer get taken down a notch. "....Well," He said, once the beat cop had left, "It has been a pleasure dealing with you... Ernie, was it?" Archangel handed over the second credstick and checked his gear to ensure it was all as offered. He then tipped an imaginary hat to the somewhat deflated van-dealer and smiled. "Be seeing you." With that, he walked simply away from the scene, hands in pockets, disappearing quickly back into the ambiance with his aptly designed camouflage. With a tap of a touch screen, his bike awoke and growled to life, purring off to intersect with him and bear him to his next objective...

((I am indeed headed for Tycho's apartment. I don't know the layout-- is there a way to approach from the rooftops? Being an apartment, I assume that Tycho's pad is not the only one in the building, so it's not like a Mansion estate or anything set apart from the buildings around it by a courtyard or anything too extravagant like that, but the sort of clientele that would populate such a place would warrant (and pay for) increased security. It's kindof a guy thing, but Archangel wants to see if he could sneak into the place without being noticed, if he had to. If he gets caught he'll come clean with it, after all he does have written permission to be there, but if he can make it through without being noticed he'll do it. :smallbiggrin:))

[TooManySecrets]

((I'm sort of going ahead and bringing you right into the apartment. Not much use in dragging it out. If you want to add anything, just say where.))

Humanity evolved out of the plains of Africa. Wide and full of danger, the thing that they lacked was vertical height. It's only been for the last few thousand years that man has had to worry about danger from above. Perhaps that's why the roof access door was unlocked. Or perhaps it's because of the flaw in every security system: human laziness. You could put a camera on every street corner, but it won't prevent someone from playing the newest vidcon instead of paying attention.

You had left your bike a few block down the road in an alley and made your way up a fire escape. The wind had whipped through your hair with pleasurable intensity as you softly ran across the intervening roofs. You were a ninja. Your kung fu was strong.

The apartment building is in the nice part of town, the sort of place where a wealthy businessman who doesn't want the responsibilities of a house would live. The insides reflected that. Rich, dappled-green-colored carpets with that faint smell of ammonia. Textured, sky-blue wallpaper with cream-colored trim.

Tycho's apartment was room 1723. Corner of the building. You hesitantly put the keycard in the slot. For one, this might still all be a setup. Getting you arrested for B&E in a high-class apartment building would be a pretty roundabout way of slagging a guy's life, but you've pretty much given up trying to decipher how corps think. There was also number two, that whoever had pulled Tycho's disappearing act - if he actually was missing - was still here.

Beep. Click.

No alarm at least. Number one problem seems less and less likely. Now for problem two.

The door opens up to what appears to be a living room. Seems Tycho shares your love of the city as the room has floor-length windows with almost no space in between them. Double-paned with shades in-between. Expensive. Black-lacquered wooden floors. White leather, plump couches. Under a desk in the corner you can see a home terminal.

The entire place reeks of money. You probably don't make enough in a year to rent this place for even a month.

To your right is an open-air kitchen. To your left is a closed door. According to the floor plan, it's the bedroom.

http://img22.imageshack.us/img22/1384/apartmentfloorplan.png

((Hurray for image-editing programs!))

[OverWilliam]

Archanged uttered a low whistle as he entered the well-to-do co-CEO's private living quarters. "Not bad," He commented aloud, even though he really wasn't in the habit of talking to himself all the time. Just inside the door, he paused to finish the fine-tuning process of adjusting to his new holsters-- just a little tighter here and a little looser there, and everything fit together about perfect. The Kompakt's holster was a slim, but durable Concealable type, designed to hang just inside the small of the back and stay out of sight. The other holster, however, was exactly opposite in personality and disposition; being a Military-style Chest mounted design, the holster itself was crafted from a Kevlar composite and sat quite comfortably against the middle of Archangel's chest, slightly left of center. The design actually served two purposes; the pistol itself was extremely easy to access, even while in any number of sub-optimal positions that might make reaching all the way to one's hip holster impossible, but also the material of the holster itself was slightly bullet-resistant, adding an extra hand print-sized patch of protection right over the wearer's heart. In a real firefight it likely would only have minimal added benefit, but every little bit counts.

As he walked into the room and got a better look around, Archangel keyed his 'Link to search for the apartment's Central Network while he himself meanwhile looked for any indication at all, any hints concerning Tycho's disappearance or current location. What condition had it been left in? Did there seem to be clothing missing, indicating he'd planned to leave? Or did the place look like it'd been cleared out in a hurry? Did it look like he'd left things out or out of place to suggest he'd been intending to come back, but was prevented...? Of course he also looked for signs that the apartment had been disturbed in some other way-- had there been a struggle here? Had the apartment been searched, or worse, ransacked? Keeping his eyes open, Archangel makes his way through the apartment, trying to keep his guard up in case something unexpected happens...

((I don't know what exactly brought this up, but I thought I'd explain something about Archangel that I may have mis-represented earlier. Archangel is not overtly Paranoid, but he does tend that way sometimes. This doesn't come out of thinking that everyone is out to get him (he knows that everybody is out to get everybody else with equal drive, he's not special), it's just that he sees things for how they really are. This does sometimes get a little overboard with seeing things that aren't really there, but in general I'm trying to play him as just having a sharp Intuition when it comes to figuring out what's really going on.))

[TooManySecrets]

Tycho has a wireless connection up. It allows open access to the Matrix, but the computer itself is secured. Have to break in if you want to get access to his files. You don't notice any other wireless networks. Probably mesh in the walls and the node itself is hard-connected to the Matrix.

You do a quick survey of the living room and kitchen. Nothing out of place in the living room. Rather clean, but not cleaner-level clean. No indentation in the carpet, marks on the wall, or anything else like that that says that anything is missing. The kitchen is relatively well-stocked. Clean dishes in the dishwasher. So, at least you can say whatever happened didn't happen while he was in the middle of eating.

Next up is the bedroom. You lie flat against the wall, open the door slowly, and peek before bursting in, new gun in your hand - you've never had SWAT training, but you've seen enough vidshows. Nobody's home.

The bedroom lives up to the rest of the apartment. Deep red carpets. Plush bed. Big dresser and stand-up closet made out of high-quality faux wood. Bathroom's nice as well - marble countertops that almost look real, auto-flush toilet, shower with three nozzle attachments. There's a few hygenic products - toothpaste, razor, that sort of thing - still on the countertop, but it looks like they're the result of somebody haphazardly putting stuff away after just waking up rather than being interrupted mid-brush. The bed is made, but not suspiciously so.

All in all, it looks like he just stepped out for a short walk and just didn't come back. Whatever happened didn't happen here.

Why then did you have this really strange feeling that something is off?

It started as soon as you came in, at least you think so. It's so faint to almost be imperceptible, but it became stronger in the bedroom. It's just at the threshold of your senses. It's - something. It just feels off-kilter, like you've forgotten something at home or that you have somewhere you need to be. It's very hard to describe.

[OverWilliam]

Archangel frowned. Absently he keyed the ARO popup to request Guest access to the network, but his focus currently was on deciphering the confusing, but definite feeling he was getting from the room.

Archangel had known he was an Adept (though he hadn't known it by that name) since he was a little older than six, and because of it he remembered some things all the way back to when he was 1 1/2 with crystal detail. Magic was always a tricky thing, especially when it worked through you instead of from you. For a long time Archangel had thought that everyone could think and remember as well as he could. It had come as a surprise to him to learn that the way he thought about things, the way some stuff just seemed to make sense, even though he couldn't explain why, wasn't 'normal'. But over the years he'd come to depend on it. It was like trusting his own eyes.

So when something just 'seemed off' about Tycho's Appartment, Archangel knew better than to question the feeling. It just meant that he hadn't quite connected the invisible dots yet, but more importantly, that there were invisible dots here to connect. Seemingly disconnected bits of information that the 'normal' person wouldn't notice at all... Archangel focused his attention and ran his mind across the apartment again...

Do you want a Perception test? I don't have any ranks in Perception, but my Intuition is 4, and I have Multitasking so I can Observe In Detail as a free action. x3 per Initiative Pass, so long as I'm not in combat.

[TooManySecrets]

((Sure, go ahead and roll. Remember, defaulting is at -1 dice pool penalty. Might as well get a round's worth. No harm in it.))

[OverWilliam]

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

I'm also going to use one point of edge on whichever result is the highest.

[roll3]

These dice only qualify for Rule of Six.

[OverWilliam]

Rule of Six die:

[roll0]

[TooManySecrets]

You glance around, taking everything in at once, trying to hone in on where the disturbance is. A flicker. And there it is. Underneath the bed.

Hesitantly, you pick up the side of the cover sheets and glance underneath the bed, gun first. Amongst the dust bunnies you see what looks like a shoebox. You don't sense any magical trap or anything like that, but frag, you're not a full-blown mage. For all you know, magic traps don't even exist or that they're routinely impossible to detect.

Well, who wants to live forever?

You turn your head to the side, listening for anyone nearby, but it's quiet. You would hate for somebody to get the jump on you while you're messing around with whatever's in the box.

You reach out and touch the box. It didn't explode in a fiery explosion. So far, so good. You pull it out. It's a shoebox. You idly wonder whether you've stumbled across a mage's porn stash or something like that before you open the box up.

Well, Mr. Minoc, you've got quite the assortment of ... things. From what little you know of more traditional magic, you recognize these as fetishes, foci, or other assorted things that you know barely more than the layman does. From what you sense, you think that only a few of them are actually real, while the others are fakes. Maybe Tycho was trying to get his hands on some magic stuff but was fleeced for some fakes. Or maybe he knew exactly what he was doing and you're the one who can't tell the difference between real and fake.

So, Tycho Minoc was either a wannaba, a mage, or he was trying to acquire the magic stuff for someone else. Either way, you've got something to investigate.

Your commlink starts buzzing in your ear and Bunny flickers in and out of your peripheral vision. Seems she found something and is trying to get your attention.

Hope you don't mind me going further than telling you "Magic under the bed". It always sort of annoys me when people draw things out i.e. exactly one post per one action. I sort of doubt that you were planning on ignoring what was under the bed and instead going home for a nice cup of tea and forgetting all about this mess. If I ever gloss over something that you want to do in more detail, tell me and we can retcon.

[OverWilliam]

((Naah, that works perfectly for me. When it's obvious enough, go for it-- boring posts are the hardest ones to write. "Umm... I open it." Doesn't get much more boring than that. :smallwink:))

Archangel poked through the box with increasing interest. Now this was something... He didn't know exactly what yet, but it was definitely something. Archangel picked up each article from the box and looked each over carefully.

Some of the foci, as he supposed they were, actually emanated a bizarre sort of 'field' around them, almost like a Magnet he supposed, but reacting to the Magical energy that flowed through him instead of metal. Most of them were differing and uniquely individual flavors of 'tingly'; one made the air around it feel charged with static electricity; one of them was even painful to the touch, but the sensation was bizarrely instinctive, as though his physical nerves were not complaining, but some other sense. Even the ones that he did not feel anything special from got a careful once-over, and then were returned to the box just the way they had been when he found them.

When Bunny waved to get his attention, he glanced up, having just finished with the box (for now) anyway. "What did you find, Bunny? Show me."

((Remember that Bunny speaks, though only when she must, in small, bolded, Dim Gray.))

[TooManySecrets]

Your AR feed goes wild, flashing you images. Looks like Bunny found something on Minoc's computer.

It's maps of Seattle with a number of dots imposed upon them. Touching the dots brings up info, but it's in some sort of code or shorthand so you can't make much of them. More maps, all with those dots. There's not a lot of them, probably about half-a-dozen or so.

You recognize the location of one of the dots. You should, after all - it's right in this building. You zoom in and confirm your suspicions. As far as you can tell, the dot corresponds to the box under the bed.

Bunny comes onto the AR feed and taps at a number of dots between the maps. Most of the dots move around and most of them move out of Seattle after a while. Except for three. One is the box under the bed. It hasn't moved since a few days before Tycho went missing. There's two others. One is in a slum about 20 miles to south. The building it's in looks to be an abandoned warehouse or something. The dot hasn't moved for at least as long as the one under Tycho's bed. The other is relatively nearby, about 5 miles.

You swear when Bunny brings up the info about that one. It's a Knight Errant station. Ever since they pushed Lone Star mostly out of the city, they've been playing hardball to endear themselves to the public. If you want to get whatever's at that dot, it won't be easy. It was still moving around when Tycho was missing, which means that it might be nothing - or, it could be the reason Tycho went missing and the reason nobody's heard anything about Tycho was because whoever has him is looking for this box or whatever it is.

There's probably some more stuff on Tycho's computer. Though you generally trust Bunny's searching capabilities, she's not a true AI so she wouldn't be able to grok everything that a metahuman might.

[OverWilliam]

Archangel nodded. "Good job, Bunny," He commented, keying the ARO to store the information she'd found to his Commlink for later. "I think I'll come take a look around too." Bunny nodded. "Ok." She wasn't the type to get offended, after all.

Taking a seat on the incredibly expensive-looking couch (and admiring it for a moment) Archangel accessed the computer as well. A large AR window opened up, covering most of Archangel's field of vision-- actually, it seemed to curve all the way around in front of him, giving him an excellent, almost Panoramic view of the inside world. In front of him, his Icon appeared; it was similarly stylized to certain characters found in the Penultimate Fantasy trideogame series, but was unique and different from any of the published characters in the games. Platinum blonde hair spiked straight up and a pair of expensive-looking blue tinted sunglasses accented distinctly anime-esque facial features. A black long coat that tattered into apparent 'nothingness' at the tails was set against a pair of over-sized, Steel soled boots. Three or four belts circled his waist with no apparent purpose, but darn if they didn't look cool. With a pre-set login animation, Angel flipped out two slightly larger-than-life stainless-steel pistols, spinning around while flipping the weapons through an awesome-but-impractical Kata before returning them to their holsters at either hip. Angel then flicked up a gloved finger to his sunglasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose and striking a badass pose.

On his back, curled around one shoulder, was a single pure-white wing.

The meatspace Archangel grinned at the over-the-top antics of his alternate ego, and then keyed the ARO overlay to get a look around at the virtual landscaping. At his side, Bunny logged in shortly after him, hugging her stuffed animal close, though actually it was a dependent part of her own sculpting-- it wasn't going anywhere.

Just AR at the moment, but Archangel does have Trodes and can go VR if needed.

[TooManySecrets]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2q9h7gi6YPI

Tycho's node is a fantasy fortress. High-flying buttresses, stern looking white-washed walls, and a number of flags waving in the nonexistent breeze. Quite pretty, but also shelf-bought. Expensive, but it's pretty obvious that Tycho didn't place much stock in customizing Matrix appearance.

You pass through the unbarred and open gate to the central hub. The first place you go to is the message storage. It stands to reason that whatever Tycho is in involved with probably involved talking with people. Most of it is pretty uninteresting. From what you gathered Tycho had a minor sideline in moving stuff across borders. Nothing major. He was just a middleman with access, which meant that he took his cut of things passing by him. However, it seems like some of the stuff he was getting for himself.


I have your merchandise. Where would you like to meet?

-Big Snake Daddy


UCAS side. Millford park. Usual spot.

-Triple Crown


Had to talk my way through customs. Convinced them that the merchandise was souvenirs from some third-world hellhole. Thought you bribed them? This is going to cost you more.

-Big Snake Daddy


Did bribe them, but they got caught on unrelated charges by Knight Errant. Willing to pay extra cost. I need the fetishes.

-Triple Crown


This is big mojo. I'm willing to teach you how to use them for modest surcharge.

-Big Snake Daddy


No. I have to do this alone.

Going to meeting point now. Be seeing you.

-Triple Crown

The last message was dated a day before Tycho Minoc went missing. You still don't know the details of what Tycho was up to exactly, but it looks like you found the proverbial smoking gun.

You start going through the rest of Tycho's node. You check his programs, but there's nothing unusual - no hacking tech or anything like that. You also notice that there's nothing work related. Maybe he was even less involved with the running of the company than you were led to believe, or maybe he has a node at work.

And that's when you find it: a secure connection program, presumably for a direct connection to Minoc Industries' mainframes. Tycho didn't need to store a local copy of the data because he could access it at any time. It wouldn't take much effort to establish a connection to the mainframe. At the same time, you're not a hacker and Bunny is only a partial replacement. Plus, having a dead guy access the mainframe will probably trip a few alarm bells. Then again, if you're having any doubts about the reasoning behind your hire, this could be the only way to figure out the truth.

[OverWilliam]

((Awesome soundtrack, by the way... :smallwink:))

Archangel sat back against the couch, putting a finger to his lips thoughtfully. Whatever Tycho had gotten himself into, and therefore by extension whatever it was that he was about to have to follow Tycho into in order to pull him out, it was getting sticky fast. But then, such was to be expected.

When he spotted and identified the secure hyperlink directly to Minoc industries, Archangel could not deny the temptation to slip in and get a look around himself. However, in the end he decided against it. Perhaps he was just too paranoid to give the connection a try, merely trusting that appropriate safeguards were not in place... which they most likely would be. More likely, however, he just didn't feel the need. His employer had been only partially forthcoming, of that he was still confident. But... even though it probably wasn't a particularly safe position to take, Archangel believed the CEO's story well enough to make delving where he was not allowed to verify feel... inappropriate.

Some people, he knew, and those more skilled in the use of Computers than he, could leave themselves back doors into this same cyberspace, or even directly into the secure feed itself for perusal later. This was more tempting-- not only was it easier to justify (on the computer itself, anyway) as some kind of clue searching, but it was more likely to produce useful results when they were needed. The point was moot, however, as neither Archangel nor his Agent program had anywhere near the ability required by such a trick... much less pulling it off smoothly enough to go undetected.

Then, he had an idea. While there were many ways it could go wrong as well, he could hardly think of one that would not be helpful in some way. Archangel gave a shrug, and then re-immersed himself in the AR display.

Searching around a bit, Angel searched to find the login to Tycho's messenger with the screenname 'Triple Crown'... And tries to send a message to the mysterious 'Big Snake Daddy'.


Can't talk long. There have been... unforeseen consequences. Is there any news on what we talked about?
-Triple Crown

[TooManySecrets]

You didn't expect a response right away. While wireless communication is ubiquitous, most people still can't process multiple information streams at once. Plus, maybe this "Big Snake Daddy" is a bit of a luddite. He's a magician so it's possible.

You spend your time between looking through Tycho's computer and rechecking his apartment. While you've learned a bit more about what it's like being figurehead CEO, you don't get any more leads on where he might be. There's no info on his business anywhere and nothing that could be potentially blackmail-worthy (besides those mysterious dots and some probably illegal foci). You briefly entertain the notion that his apartement's been cleaned - in the "professional" sense of the word - but you decide against it. It doesn't make sense not to give the place a complete scrubdown. Why leave the magic, the correspondence, and the backdoor connection to a moderately rich and powerful company?

It's probably about 15 minutes later - sooner than you expected - when Tycho's message server gives a small notification of an incoming message.


yeah, I've got some news. Meet me at 365 Woodrow St. Weve got some things to discuss

-Big Snake Daddy

The address, you notice, is about 5 miles away from that dot in the slums. Interesting.

You're pulled out of your reverie by a knock on the door. "Mr. Minoc," says a gruff male voice, "is everything okay? Do you need anything?"

Crap.

[OverWilliam]

Archangel saved "Big Snake Daddy"'s address, as well as anything else that looked interesting or useful, to his own commlink and signed off. Then, with a few moments thought, he decided that whatever these foci were or whatever they did, it would be better for him to have them later than someone else. Swinging his backpack down, he was just finishing moving them over from the box when the knock came from the door.

Crap.

Without replying, on the off chance that the fact that Mr. Minoc was not at home (a true enough statement) may become apparent on its own, Archangel quickly moved toward the bedroom. As he hustled, he dug out a pair of gloves from his backpack's side pocket and pulled them on. It wasn't likely that the large pane windows in the main window were the opening type, but there was a better chance that the smaller one in the bedroom would slide open enough to let him escape. However, aware that a less desirable alternative may prove necessary, he flipped his Cougar Fineblade into one hand, ready to make his way out more forcefully should it be required.

[TooManySecrets]

((You might want to restate what you're doing. If the bathroom had windows, and they don't, they would open up to the hallway or somebody else's room. Check the map again and remember that the upper left part of the living room is the corner of the building. Sorry if that didn't come through the first time. And, FYI, the bedroom windows are also the large pane style - it's the future, so they have those fancy windows that darken if you run an electrical current through them))

[OverWilliam]

After taking an absurdly long time to think about his current situation, Archangel settled on a new course of action. Slipping the Cougar Fineblade back into its sheath, Archangel hurried back into the other room and dove behind the corner around the front door into the kitchen area and waited to see what the person on the other side of the door would do...

[TooManySecrets]

((Weird. My subscriptions didn't update...))

"Mr. Minoc, we're coming in," says the voice and you can here the distinctive sound of the maglock disengaging.

You can hear the sound of some people coming into the apartment. Two of them from the sound of it. From your vantage point, it looks like they're security guards. One of them is a bald-headed while the other has a tight buzzcut. Both of them have tasers drawn, though you can see pistol holsters on their belts.

Baldie starts checking out the bedroom while Buzzcut stays at the door.

"Whoever you are, come on out. We know you're here. You can't fool the motion sensor," you can hear Baldie say from inside the bedroom.

((EDIT: This also seems as good a time as any to say this: I'm a big proponent of cinematic combat. Now, normally, people don't do stuff like "I backflip over the guy and hit him in the head while in midair" because a) that's like 3 different rolls, each with their own chance for failure and if any fail the entire action fails, b) it's not directly mentioned in the rules which leads to c) GMs tending to set very high requirements for very little gain for cinematic actions. However, I've from the Paranoia school of GMing - if it's entertaining, it has a high chance of success. Now, whether fighting these guys is a good or bad thing is up to you, just know that it doesn't have to be a boring fight if you do fight them.))

[OverWilliam]

((Ok, so at this point if I want to surprise rush the guy at the door I'd make a Surprise Test (p.155) with a +3 dice modifier because I'm aware of him and he's not aware of me? And then I have to roll Initiative too, yes?))

Surprise Test: Init + 3
Opponent must meet or beat this number of successes to act on the first Initiative pass.
[roll0]

Initiative Test: React + Intuition
[roll1]

[OverWilliam]

((I'm going to spend a point of Edge to re-roll non-hits on that Initiative Test.))
Edge rerolls:
[roll0]

[OverWilliam]

((Triple post yay. :smallbiggrin: On some sites I'm on they'll let you add dice to a post... unfortunately, GiantITP requires a whole new post. :smallannoyed:))

Rule of 6 Dice:
[roll0]

EDIT: That makes for 2 hits on the Surprise Test, but 5 hits on the Initiative Test.

[TooManySecrets]

((Yeah, I really don't know why GiantITP doesn't allow additional rolls. Quite annoying))

Order:
Archangel
Baldie
Buzzcut

Baldie is surprised, but Buzzcut isn't.

Could you please repost a link to your character sheet? I'll put it in the first post.

[OverWilliam]

((Guh. Ok, let's do this.))

Trying to rely on an existential sense of timing, Archangel waited until the last possible second before exploding into motion all at once. Bursting around the corner as quickly as he could, he ploughed into the man blocking the door with as much force as possible, also taking the opportunity to deliver a shock-inducing uppercut to his jaw...

Ok, let's try this.

Running around the corner (p. 138) to make a Charge attack (p. 148, +2 dice pool for Melee attacks). I make an Attack to Knockdown action (p. 152). If my Melee attack hits (succeeds on the Opposed test of my attack vs the other guy's defense) then we compare my Strength + Net Hits on the opposed test vs his Body, if I win he's knocked over. :smalleek: :smallsigh: :smallbiggrin:

Ok, so my attack is Unarmed Combat (4) + Agility (5) + Charging bonus (2) = 11 dice.

[roll0]

5 hits, vs his Defense to hit; 5 + 3 Strength = 8 vs his Body to Knockdown.

A Melee attack is a Complex action, so that's the only thing I can do on that pass. On the second initiative pass (I get two from Improved Reflexes adept power :smallbiggrin:) if the first Knockdown failed I will try it again:

[roll1]

6 hits, vs his Defense to hit; 6 + 3 Strength = 9 vs his Body to Knockdown.

Otherwise, I will continue running out into the hall and toward the Roof exit.

[TooManySecrets]

((Personally, I think it's rather stupid that melee is a Complex Action. While I agree that melee combat is complicated, it doesn't take all that long to slug a guy in the kisser. Fencing this is not. For future reference, you can take a -2 penalty to the attack roll to do melee as a Simple Action.))

In one smooth motion, you run past Buzzcut and, just as he yelps in surprise, you ram your fist into his face. He goes down like a sack of potatoes. He'll probably have a pretty nice shiner, but he should be fine. Not that you check as you're too busy running down the hallway.

You decide to take the stairs as the possibility of being in a lockdowned elevator isn't particularly appealing to you. As the steel door closes behind you and you start pounding up the stairs, you think you can here yelling coming from behind you.

You only need to make it up a few flights of concrete stairs and you'll be on the roof, and from there you should be able to escape. Of course, if they have cameras and a few more guards, they might try to close off the roof exit. Not that you think they wouldn't close off the ground exit, but it's not like you have much choice.