The rest of the team was also new to one another, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It was true that teamwork could be a tad difficult when you didn't know each other, but rivalries weren't there to begin with. Just as the Troll grunted at Throven's remark about shooting at the end of the week Thomas just had to grin. Thomas thought of various uses for drones, although he wasn't a specialist on the subject. He couldn't wait until the real information came, and everything would become clear. And was it just him or was the Face flirting back at the kid? Nevermind that, mister Johnson began speaking. He even made a fancy powerpoint, something the street sam could appreciate. He talked about drones, security and engineers, which was all fine and dandy, but no specifics... So the team had a month to scout out the place, see when security was lowest, get in and get busy... And not in the fun way.

Finally, the first time team was working. The mission was pretty straight forward, but certainly no milk run... The drone looked quite the handful from the footage that Johnson provided. On top of that, the engineer could be quite the handful as well and he was guarded on top of that. Thomas took a drag of his cigarette sliding somewhat down in his chair and rested his head on the back of the seat. As Thomas exhaled the smoked the mage began to talk. Apparently the kid didn't have the stomach to pull the trigger, or his finger, when the time was there. The Elf appreciated the drone, he even whistled. Hope you're buying it dinner first, Thomas thought. Although this posed a problem, if this rigger extraordinaire was impressed, then the Big Dog was more than quite a handful... The rigger was positive he could override the security of the drone, he was talking about firewalls and stuff. "Say Elf, can't we just hit the drone with an EMP-dart. That aught to give you all the time you need, doesn't it?"

"Mister Johnson, if I may, could you give us a bit more specifics? We'll have to do our own surveillance, to be sure, but a man with your network and contacts, probably could give us at least some information about their security, maybe an old blueprint of the building?" All small things could help, if you knew what was where you could create a distraction easily. Even knowing if the company had it's own energysource or that they were part of a grid was useful information. If Johnson didn't have more information than he already disclosed their first priority should be getting Lei-Ne and the Elf in for some scouting? That would probably yield the highest amount of information. Thomas turned towards the mage, "Oh, and kid, could you quit dicking around with your water?" Not that he was annoyed, but it would be nice if the kid got his head in the game. "Red," turning his attention to the hacker, "if you know what type of digital securities KH is running you could probably disable a couple of things? Say, to let a rigger scout with a couple of drones?"

Thorin continued to smoke as he listened, his attention fixed on Mr Johnson as he explained the job. He raised his eyebrows as he watched the holographic image of this ‘Big Dog’ move around, easily dodging incoming fire whilst returning shots of its own. Thorin wasn’t particularly impressed, but then again he wasn’t that much of a fan of drones, having spent a small portion of time fighting against them on previous outings. Glancing over to the rigger he could see that Thovren seemed to be appreciating the hell out of it, a quiet whistle even escaping his lips. If their ‘expert’ thought that the drone was worthwhile, then that was good enough for him to trust in its value.

It seemed their mission was to be broken down into several objectives, the first and most important was obvious – get the drone’s blueprints from the corporation’s servers and wipe any remaining trace of them. Obviously without these blueprints they wouldn’t see a single Nuyen, and so it would be their main focus. Thorin didn’t know exactly how helpful he could be when it came to this part of the job, but he assumed that their new hacker friend Red Five would take the lead here. If she needed protection whilst she worked the server or even just getting out, then that’s where he would come in.

The second part of the job seemed like it could be more up his alley. Devon McIntosh, the designer of the drone was also an objective for them – and it also seemed like without dealing with him one way or another they wouldn’t be getting paid. He had apparently already refused offers to leave Koch-Huang and had informed them that someone was trying to get to him, and so in Thorin’s mind he was unlikely to accept any other offers of bribery that the team could offer him. That meant that unless their face Lei-Ne was something special, he was sure that only his own brand of intimidation would do the job. If that failed then he was sure that he could end the human’s life with little relative trouble, even if he did turn out to be under heavy guard. That being said Thorin knew that a bonus for bringing him out alive would be something he didn’t want to pass up without at least attempting it, and see using his retinal implants he took a snapshot of the man’s face.

The last stage of the mission involved the prototype of the drone itself, finding out if it still existed and then making sure that if it did, that Koch-Huang wouldn’t be able to use it to reverse engineer anything. Again Thorin was sure that the information about the prototype drone would be in their servers, so Red Five would be able to tell them if they needed to worry about this. Knowing how missions tend to go, Thorin decided it would be best to treat this one as a primary objective as well, as if they didn’t account for it you could be damn sure that the drone would still exist, and that it’d end up coming back to bite them in the ass.

For the entire mission they would have a month, plus ten thousand nuyen in advance for whatever they needed to get the job done. Six thousand nuyen each would be delivered upon completion of the job, he assumed providing they met the basic requirements of the job. Thorin thought for a few moments, watching as Old Soul began to manipulate his drink and create a tiny scale replica of the prototype drone as he spoke. Thorin nodded thoughtfully as he spoke of not wanting to dispose of the engineer, and after catching a few surprised looks from the others he added “I agree with him. No point in disposing of someone who is basically pure nuyen to us.” Even though he agreed for very different reasons, it made sense to him to rule out killing this Devon McIntosh, just from a financial standpoint. “The way I see it” Thorin began, taking another swig from his drink as he did “Is that this McIntosh guy may not willingly come out of there, let’s face it – we are being offered just shy of ¥50,000 because he wouldn’t play ball. So even if we gotta drag him out kicking and screaming the bonus has to be worth it?” he directed the end of his question at Mr Johnson before he added “That is unless you can get him out legitimately” turning his gaze to Lei-Ne.

As the others asked their questions he continued to listen and consider what was being said. The only other question he added once the others had spoken was “So these… optional objectives, how much bonus are we talkin for getting this McIntosh out alive, and how much for getting that drone prototype out in one piece? If it aint worth the trouble then a well-placed shot would deal with both problems in just a few moments, and we wouldn’t need to piss around trying to get them out.” As he finished speaking Old Soul’s little aqua-drone had rolled over to his side of the table, and with a smirk he extinguished the end of his cigarette on it before looking up at Mr Johnson, waiting for their answers.

Thovren tapped his cybernetic fingers on the table in a soft, repetitive pattern. Still staring at the hologram and focusing on all the small details he could, trying to find clues in its movements he could exploit, where its retaliation fire was coming from on its body. Even trying to find a jack port. "Well there are two problems with an EMP dart." He finally nad reluctantly tore his gaze away from the hologram and looked to the swordsman. "The first being that if this drone can dodge gunfire, there is simply no way it will let itself be hit by a slower moving projectile like your dart." His fingers continued their private tattoo on the tables surface. "The second issue can go either way. This is a prototype, which menas its relatively untested in extreme conditions and defence. But it is still very advanced. So it either has sophisticated enough wiring to withstand a common EMP charge and disperse the energy with ease." he reasoned and tilted his head slightly. "Or the more likely scenario is that Koch Huang has put no form of insulation or electrical surge protection into the machine save from the most basic and manditory for now. They probably want to ensure that no one could do just as your suggesting because hitting it with a sizable EM pulse will at best, singe the wiring and possibly damage some system or mobility." He let that sink for a few seconds before going to the final extreme. "Or at worst it will blow the cortex completely.... Personally I would rather not risk it. If I can catch it while it is in whatever sort of monitering chamber they keep it in when its not being tested that would be safest, but not likely. This thing probably doesn't have to recharge all to often. But We can't shoot it, and I wont risk overloading an untested machine."

When the troll mentioned shooting the drone his head sharply turned to regard him. To him that was simply heretical. "We will not be destroying this piece." he said firmly. "it could probably dodge your shot anyway if you hadn't noticed. If its armour plates don't absorb the blow." he gestured to the hologram again. "I can override its subscription. I just a little time." the last thing he wanted for for something this advanced to be destroyed. Before he had a chance to study it intently.

Roman started to grow rather bored of this talking. Mr. Johnson stated they had a month to finish the objective but he already wanted it done and over with. Watching his little ice drone wander around the table as the street samurai asked about old blueprints. It was a smart idea in which he was about to give the man praise before he snapped about Roman "dicking around". That got his blood boiling. At that point he wanted to set a soul trap underneath the samurai's seat and watch it launch him straight into the second floor. Giving a smirk as he imagined it before he noticed the other "muscle" put a cigarette out on his creation clearly unappreaciated of what he can bring to the table. Roman couldn't help but bust out laughing a slightly disturbing cackle. "156 people..." he muttered to himself. Watching as a few wondered what he was talking about.

Roman leaned forward and spoke a bit clearer. "156 people inside this club right now. The 6 of us plus Mr. Johnson makes seven. The 17 employees including the Orc, elf bartender, Mr. J's poker buddies, the 10 wandering security wandering the dance floor as well as the 2 men watching the security cameras. That leaves 131 patrons packed into a 1600 sqare feet club... a bit over your fire hazard safety regiment Mr. Johnson." Roman said sarcastically. Leaning back in his chair. "Now tell me you overgrown vending machine... who's dicking around?" Just then the sculpture evaporated ito the growing cloud of smoke above them. "I'm good with numbers and logical hypothesies, if you can find an old blueprint than I can estimate how many guards would be in place factoring in personal space, shift changes, and even personal hygene. I'm not your average spell slinger." Roman gave off a cocky attitude as he leaned a bit further back in his chair. A little too far back as he watched in slow motion as his head hit the faux wood floor with a audible thunk. (Reeeal smooth Roman) he thought to himself as he quickly righted his chair and sat back down with a beet red face.

Red glanced at Quicksilver and grinned. Her look wasn't exactly uncommon, but the street samurai looked like he might be an older brother of hers. She was glad he'd asked the mage to quit. Showing off like that, what an amateur. Quicksilver's question was a sensible one, and it deserved to be answered without snark.

"Koch-Huang's security system is probably off the grid, so I might not be able to access it remotely. If we can get close enough to the building, I can totally spoof a few commands long enough for Thovren here to get a drone or two in, maybe lay a fiberoptic tap. I hear he's good." She looked up at Mr. Johnson. "I'm in, but I agree: we're gonna need a blueprint of the complex. Do we need to pull some strings or can you help us out?"

⦿

Johnson nodded. "I will indeed be able to supply you with plans of the building. They are, as you suggest, not entirely up to date. Nonetheless, they should provide you with some vital information, among other things about the electrical system. Needless to say, my employers may not be held responsible for any incorrect information, and should you fail, any knowledge of your doings will be denied. Once you leave this room, you are on your own until your objective has been completed.

"The support we can provide will be so once you have all made a decision." Mr. Johnson produced a few small items from his left trouser pocket. "I have in my hand datachips containing the aforementioned plans to the Koch-Huang as well as a few other things my employers believe will be of benefit to you, and a DocWagon bracelet good for a month. Keep in mind that DocWagon medics are not always willing to enter corp grounds because of extraterritoriality."

✜

Red muttered a word of appreciation. DocWagon bracelets meant that whoever was paying them, they at least wanted them to keep breathing for long enough to get away and weren't just planning on looting their lifeless bodies.

She actually agreed with the troll. It would take a sizable bonus to make her not put a bullet in that drone. The same went for the engineer, actually. Getting out was gonna be the hardest part, and if she was gonna bring a killing machine and a civilian back out with them, it had better be worth it. The rigger seemed to be mostly interested in the drone itself. No way he was gonna leave it behind. She couldn't exactly blame him—it was a good-looking piece of machinery—but already she began to worry that his fascination with Big Dog might pose a serious risk to the mission and their lives. She decided to cut the discussion short.

"I don't care either way. But if we're extracting the drone and/or this McIntosh, Horns here isn't the only one who wants to know if it'll be worth it. Give us a figure."

⬔

For a second, the only sound heard was the soft static of the white noise generator. Then, Mr. Johnson spoke.

"I am afraid I am not authorized to provide you with an exact figure, but my employers have told me to assure you that if you are to successfully extract at least one of the assets, your salary will be more than doubled. I trust that is a satisfying answer?

"Now, a few of you have already given clear confirmation of your accepting this opportunity. Before we move on, I will have to ask the rest of you to either accept or decline. Take your time; the night is still young."

Done with his questions Thorin sat back in his chair and finished his drink in two quick gulps, placing the glass back on the table he gazed at the empty contents for a few moments before sliding the glass suggestively towards Mr Johnson. He listened to Thovren talk more about the drone and its technicalities. He seemed convinced that any attempts to destroy the drone or subdue it in any way other than his would be futile, and it seemed that it was too ‘advanced’ to be simply destroyed. If the rigger wants to deal with the prototype then let him, he figured dismissively. It wasn’t his area of expertise, but if recovering it would lead to a bonus then that was reason enough to let Thovren do his thing.

Suddenly Old Soul cackled, directing Thorin’s attention directly towards the young man.
“156 people?” he repeated, wondering what the hell the mage was talking about. As Old Soul leant forwards and systematically broke down and explained the number of occupants in the club Thorin had to admit that he was more than a little impressed initially. That was until the spell slinger fell backwards dramatically in his chair, crashing into the ground immediately after he finished establishing that he wasn’t some useless parlour magician. A short gruff laugh emanated from Thorin as he turned his attention back to the others. If Old Soul could back up his opinion of himself then he might actually be of some help he mused, also making another mental note as Red Five and Quicksilver started talking about ways to access the security systems.

Once Johnson had confirmed that he would provide plans of the building, along with a few other things, even a DocWagon thrown in - Thorin was pretty sure that he was going to accept the job. That kind of support on a mission meant that the people pulling the strings really wanted this thing to go down well, which only helped to tip the scales more in their direction. But then the sweet cherry on top, when he found out that just by recovering one of the two ‘optional’ targets would result in a significant pay boost he was certain he was in.

Taking a small metallic flask from one of his jacket pockets Thorin grinned savagely as he said “Oh I think I am definitely interested in this opportunity” before he took a swig from the small flask and added “If you got the nuyen, then you got the blueprints.”

The coffee was now almost gone, the caffeine had done it's job and business was going the way it was supposed to go. As the butt of the cigarette fell into the last bit of coffee a slight tsss sound gave Thomas the reassurance it was out. The samurai pushed the cup away and helped himself to a glass of water from a bottle on the table. During all this Throven had been talking about Thomas's idea of the EMP-dart. It was a shame really that it would not work, maybe they could get to the Big Dog before it was activated. The Troll made a good case of just plain old shooting the crap out of the bot. The Elf would however rather shoot the Troll than the drone... Fine, it's worth a lot and it is in your interest zone, Quicksilver thought. Thomas always saw bonus objectives as a means to get a little extra cash on the side. If there was time and opportunity of course, but after the Troll brought it up and Johnson said that their fee would double... Well, that was something else. The bonus objectives turned into extra main objectives, maybe Lei-Ne could get even more cash out of it. She would probably know the risks that were involved in taking an engineer and a not fully tested drone outside. That was a rather heavy, if you would, burden.

And then, all of a sudden, the kid snapped. His face turned rather dark and he started mumbling. What the..., but before Thomas could finish that thought the awakened started to explain. Something about the number of people in the club. Rather unique, Thomas thought, that could actually come in quite nice when put to good use. "Now tell me you overgrown vending machine... who's dicking around?", Old Soul baited. The samurai couldn't help but smile, maybe he underestimated the kid. As the mage continued to explain his thesis the muscle nodded. When the kid was finished he apparently couldn't handle the attention anymore and fell backwards, chair and all... The samurai inclined his head, "Way to go, kid, way to go..."

Back to business, the hacker thought the blueprint were a good idea and could probably get the Elf in, good. Johnson could supply said blueprint, his employers couldn't be held responsible for anything though. Thomas reacted with a short 'Of course.' The DocWagon bracelets were real handy as well. Lord knows the kid could use one. He might have a concussion, if he didn't have one already that is. The last question came from Johnson himself, were they all in? Thomas nodded once, "Mister Johnson, I'm with you. Let's round things up here and get started on the actual planning. I assume the less you know the better, right?"

Thovren was now thinking about ways to outsmart the drone when it came time for him to take over its systems. His mind also turned to his van and the drones he had inside his mobile workshop. They would need upgrades for this job. At least one of them would need a new weapon attachment. He breathed deeply and resumed his finger tattoo on the table. "I will be accepting this invitation." he said after a few moments just before the mage started rambling about something or other. He couldn't say he was paying to much attention beyond his personal thoughts until he heard a nice semi-hard 'thump' and looked over to see the man they would be entrusting with complex magical spells to protect them. Fall quite literally on his ass and head. 'Whatever god people were worshipping these days. he hoped they would be looking out for them, They were going to need it." he thought to himself.

Lei-Ne lived her life by watching people. Seeing how certain types interacted with each other. She mimicked them when she watched as a girl. Walked how they walked, talked like they talked, moved like they moved. The goal? To become them, or as close as she could. Later on she found the value of body language. If you mimic someone they tend to like you more, some effect on the subconscious level. The more you patterned yourself off your mark, the more easy going they'd be around you. In larger groups it was harder to find a pattern that prevailed through all the people. Especially when the group wasn't friends. When they were, they did pick up each other's movements and speech patterns. All fascinating really, what you'd discover through the art of watching people.

This group was fascinating. If they could put aside difference and come together, they just might accomplish something. Of course might was the operative word in that sentence. Lei-Ne sighed as Quicksilver and Old-Soul began to get into it with each other. Testosterone, one more reason she was glad to have been born a woman instead of a man. That, and she watched as Old-Soul made a Bee-line for the floor. She snorted once before turning away at the sight of his red face. Yes, fascinating indeed. She mentally calculated their chance of success just a little lower.

"Yes." Lei-Ne agreed with the street samurai. "Lets get a move on. While we're all still young."

As Old Soul picked himself up, Mr. Johnson made a point of addressing the others, mostly managing to maintain an air of professionalism. If he had something to say about the mage's stunt, he didn't.

"Excellent. I shall be leaving in a moment to let you converse among yourselves or leave, whatever you need, although I suggest you do not all leave at once. But first—"

The human made a final round of the table, placing a chip and a DocWagon bracelet in front of each runner. Finally, he placed a credstick next to the white noise generator.

"Included in the files on the datachips before you is the address of a safehouse, courtesy of my employers. I suggest you meet there tomorrow and use it as a hub for your work. Although its location and access points are strategically advantageous, I advise that you take standard precautions. I should think the ten thousand nuyen on the table will be of help to you.

"As I mentioned earlier, you will be on your own once you leave here. The commcode enclosed is the one to which you will be placing a call once your objectives have been completed. Someone other than I will take care of matters—my work begins and ends with briefing you."

Johnson began to make his way towards the door. His hand hovering by the touch pad, he turned, his features softening: "Koch-Huang are familiar with most of the established runner teams. I suspect they won't be expecting one put together for the occasion. I suggest you take some time to get to know each other; there may be overlaps in your skills that'll be to your advantage. Your task isn't easy, but I trust my employers have chosen the right people. I wish all of you the best of luck."

He tapped the touch pad once. The door opened, the melodic noise amplifying hundred fold. Without looking back he stepped out, black shirt quickly disappearing in the crowd.

★

Red tried to keep an eye on Mr. Johnson on the security cameras, but ended up shutting down the feeds with a sigh. "Yeah, he's gone."

"Okay," she continued while fingering the matte black datachip she'd been handed, "I'm gonna be the stuck up bitch from the get-go. Before you show up at the safehouse tomorrow, I' want you to go wherever you go to pick up burner 'links and get a new one. Just a cheap one like you usually do. Keep it in public mode and use that for your everyday needs. I don't want anyone getting picked up by Knight Errant for running restricted software."

She reached to the small of her back where her commlink was secured and slotted the datachip. Images, video clips and information, lots of information, appeared in her consciousness. She closed her eyes and smirked. That's the stuff. The mage might be a total dreakhead, and the rigger had a serious hard-on for that drone, but the data was pure. God damn was it pure. She mentally accessed the part about the safehouse, mapsoft information running through the fiberoptic cable into her cerebral cortex. As long as everything stayed connected, she'd know exactly where the safehouse was.

"Right, the safehouse is in Auburn, not too far from the Algona Hospital. Shouldn't be too hard to find. I hope everyone knows how to get there, preferably without falling on their asses?"

Thovren took the bracelet first. He palmed it and let it sit in his sybernetic hand, As if weighing it first before attaching to his biological wrist. He reached for the chip next and slipped it into his pocket. He would asses the data later either in his van or back in his home. For now he took one long look at everyone assembled around the table. Taking in faces and bearings before pushing his chair from the table and standing up. "Well, unless there is something that requires my immediate attention. I have work to do." he took one of the credsticks on the table. Presumably it gave acess to the collective fund. He had one or two tings in mind to buy for this mission. Mostly he made do with scrap metal or what he could find for cheap, which is why his robots lived so long. Their parts were easily replacable when damaged. He ran a hand through his Mohawk and made his way to the door.

It seemed like forever for Mr. Johnson to finish his speech and handed out the Docbracelets. Still partially embarassed from his tiny ego trip and fall, he reassured himself. (Its just a job like the others, they'll all be out of your life in a month anyway.) Roman thought to himself. Half these people only care about the cash and the other half was drooling over the droid. He never really took to what was so great about all the shiny and wires clumped together to mimic something that obviously looks like a dog or cat or even a human at times. In his opinion they are all inferior to the actual thing so why try? Either way he needed the money and the experience so instead of showing off like he did, he needs to watch and learn. The Samurai looked like a good choice to pay attention to, even if the man was a bit of a dick to him, he obviously survived this long somehow. The Asian woman as well.... Judging from what Mr. J said, anyone who can bring words to a gunfight and win is okay in his book, besides... she's probabbly used to eyes being on her anyway. The Hacker and Rigger obviously knew their stuff too but Roman would have a brain aneurism attempting to keep up with the lingo, and the troll... well the troll is just not to be fucked with case closed.

Roman (carefully) got out of his seat and gave a businessmans smile as he grabbed a bracelet and a data chip. "Guess I'll be needing that bracelet sooner than later huh?" He joked a bit arkwardly, trying to make up for his idiocy. Slipping both docbracelet and datachip in his pants pocket, there was no sense putting it on just yet and drawing attention by some junkie with a vicatin addiction to see it around his wrist. He took one of the credsticks and placed it in his shirt pocket before heading for the door. Before he opened it he turned around and addressed the remainder in the room. "Jus wanna say I'm glad I didn't get stuck with a bunch of junkie meatheads on this job because...honestly I have no choice but to take this job....so... thanks, I guess." Roman gave an attempt at a smile before he turned his head away from them and headed out the door. The meeting may be over but he's got a credstick full of creds and some information brokers to visit.

As he left the club he passed by the Orc bouncer and gave him a small punch to the shoulder to say goodbye. The orc retalliated with a left hook that could tip a moose, obviously unaware of his own strength. As he left he noticed quite the ugly van parked towards the back and sighed hoping that it wasn't one of their getaway vehicles. Msking his way not to far away Roman visited a handfull of other shady bars and clubs in the district looking for information on his sister. Six hours later and 1200 credits wasted, he still had nothing... Reina is still nowhere to be found, not even a trace. Whatever Aztechnology has done with (or to) her they didn't leave a trace. Pulling the datachip out of his pocket as he leaned against a concrete wall between the alley, he raised the chip into the smoggy moonlight and stared intently at the circuits. "Here's hoping you change my luck.."

Thorin grinned slightly as each of them accepted the offer one after another. It seemed things were definitely on. He picked up the data-chip and placed it into one of his pockets before glancing at Red Five as she spoke "Right, the safehouse is in Auburn, not too far from the Algona Hospital. Shouldn't be too hard to find. I hope everyone knows how to get there, preferably without falling on their asses?" she asked.

Thorin grinned again and responded with a brief glance at Old Soul “I’ll be there tomorrow bright and early… more or less” resisting the urge to poke more fun at the young mage as he took another drink from his flask. He shrugged as Thovren left the room, unable to think of anything that required his ‘attention’. Next to leave was Old Soul, a quick joke before a word of thanks - this caught Thorin’s interest, or rather the wording that he used, something about having no choice but to take the job making him wonder what he could be referring to, and made a mental note to ask about it sometime in the future.

With their business concluded for the evening Thorin considered what to do, realising that he didn’t really need to prepare anything beforehand. Glancing around the private room he considered remaining here for the evening seeing as the music was more than bearable when it was mostly inaudible to him, and the earlier card game had given him a want to gamble and drink the evening away. Looking at the remaining members he said “Well, I’m going to tell the barstaff to keep the drinks coming tonight, seeing as we have this lovely private room and all” before he stood and moved towards the doorway “if any of you want to join me then be my guests”.

Bracing his ears for the onslaught of terrible music he quickly left the room and made his way to the bar, shouting a few words at the bartender to get her attention. After explaining what he wanted and gesturing towards the room he made to move back towards the others but knocked into beautiful young human girl as he did – his bulk sending her crashing into the back of a pair of elven thugs who were clearly high as kites, the pair turning with aggressive snarls on their faces. A few moments and a few thrown punches later Thorin returned to the private room, girl closely in tow. She almost didn’t look old enough to be in a place like this, clearly in her late teens – however her lengthy blonde hair with several green coloured streaks, combined with her almost innocent gaze and neon facepaint was enough for Thorin to want to spend some time getting to know her. Their business was concluded so he was sure the others wouldn’t object to bringing an ‘outsider’ into the room, and if they did they could always go someplace else.

As he sat he gestured to Old Soul’s empty chair and the girl joined him, she looked a little perplexed after the sudden a swift incident outside, but already seemed to be taken with Thorin after he’d caved the first thug’s face in as soon as he grabbed the girl and started trying to grope her. A staff-member entered the room a few moments later with a tray filled with various drinks and placed them on the centre of the table, as they turned to leave Thorin said “Don’t forget to keep them coming” as he took out a packet of smokes and offered one to the girl before he laid them on the table. Thorin doubted Mr Johnson would return, but he wondered about his card playing buddies. Either way he was sure that he would enjoy himself this evening, and glancing over at Quicksilver he said gruffly “Hey Quickie, sticking around?” Turning his attention to the others he said “And what about you lovely ladies, will we be enjoying your company now our business is concluded?” his eyes lingered on Lei-Ne for a few moments longer before he looked away.

Lei-Ne looked at the bracelet. She frowned at it before poking it. She never got along well with technology. When she was satisfied something wouldn't go horribly wrong, she snapped it onto her wrist. It might have been obvious what it was to the right observer, but it did blend in rather nicely with her glittery ensemble. She looked up from her wrist when the hacker Red Five started barking orders. The corners of Lei-Ne's mouth twitched into a smile. When the woman finished there was silence. Then Thovren, the rigger, stood with a few words snatched a credstick and vanished out the same door as the Fixer. Within milliseconds Old-Soul was up babbling about the DocWagon and needing it before he too made his escape.

Lei-Ne looked at the hacker before nodding her head. "I can find it." Of course that was followed by an invitation to hang out longer. Something Lei-Ne had to decline. As much as she loved to party, she loved sleep more. She smiled at the Troll as he left before she too stood, palming the data chip. She grabbed her pink umbrella and made her way out of the room. Though there was the little dance at the door when the woman tried to get by. Thorin didn't actually leave the room for long, only long enough to get himself a drunk girl. Lei-Ne finally got past when the troll and girl moved further into the room.

When she was finally out, the loud music was a balm on her soul. The beat echoing in her body as she swam across the dance floor fluidly. There was still time enough to go home and get some sleep. She exited the bar and walked down the street towards the more busy street. On the corner she hailed a cab and got in. When they arrived at her apartment she paid the man and climbed the few flights to hers. She didn't take the lift. Being a jinx made her wary of things that could go wrong.

The rest of the night was pretty uneventful. She got a few hours of sleep and even woke up early enough to do some research on her own before she went to the safe house.

The idea to move on with the planning was not only to Thomas's taste apparently. Lei-Ne also wanted to get a move on, which was nice. Johnson gave the last few pointers to the group and divided the DocWagon bracelets as well as the datachips around. A couple of people already snapped on their bracelet and a few others put them away. Thomas's decided that it would be best to put the bracelet on immediately, because he wasn't too keen on these things and had the tendency to forget where he left them. The datachip he tucked away in his trench-coat that hung over the chair where he had sat earlier. Red asked if everyone could find the safehouse and incorporated a snide comment to Old Soul. "Yes, m'am, will do, without falling on my ass!", Thomas replied while lifting his glass in the magician's direction with a smile. The Elf was apparently busy, as they were often... He left, at which Thomas nodded in the Elf's direction, with the mage in tow. The kid tried to make a recovery with a joke. Thomas couldn't help but smile, he felt kind of sorry for the kid. Luckily not that much, so that was settled. The kid also expressed his 'gratitude', if you would, for the company as he had no choice. Shit, kid, nobody had an easy life, otherwise we wouldn't be here, the samurai thought. "See you tomorrow kid."

The Troll proposed to get more drinks in here and more drinks in the people in the room. "Doom! Could you get me some vodka? Neat?", the samurai answered. He would like a couple of more drinks. Too bad the credits were for the mission and not for getting hammered. As the Troll left the room Thomas turned his attention to the ladies and grinned. "My dear ladies," Thomas started with a hint on drama, "Would you please stay and keep the two of us company. Two gents drinking by themselves if no fair sight, but it could become a lot fairer with the lovely atmosphere of you around." Making a large arm gesture as he finished with a large grin. Before any of the two dames could react the Troll reentered the room with a series of drinks and some girl. The girl looked almost younger than some whiskeys on the tray. Thomas proceeded to reach over to the Troll's smokes and took one. I used to smoke this brand too... Nice, Doomstride, very nice. As Quicksilver lit the cigarette Lei-Ne excused herself with less words than Old Soul and left as well. So, it was the hacker, the Troll, the drunk teen and Thomas in the room. The invitation to stay for a bit and drink some was more than welcome. Thomas diverted his attention to the Troll and asked, "Punks?" The Troll nodded and began telling the story. When he was finished Thomas looked Red in her eyes, "Please stay, otherwise if have to beat up some kids as well, just to get a little attention." He hoped the two saw the humor in it as Quicksilver began to laugh. "I'll join you Troll. Let's see if we can get some cards in here! That way I can earn even more money." He baited.

Thovren walked out of the bar and eagerly down the alley to the familiarity and comfort of his workshop. He took a quick and habitualy paranoid look around him while keeping his cybernetic arm on his pistol grip. he still half expected a mugger or street junkie to try and jump him for a few credits. He quickly input the maglock code and hurried inside his van. He removed his mask and breathed in the air, it had the metallic scent mixed with a slight fume of lubrication and oils. And the light levels were far more reasonable. Almost pitch dark to a human but he loved them.
He tossed the credstick in his hands a few times, debating what it was specifically he needed. He would work on a list tonight. This to was slipped into his pocket and he gave a quick pat to his Doberman and jacked himself with the datachip. He was not as proficient as the hacker at sorting through the mass stream of data flowing through his brain. But he sifted through it as best he could. he stored the information into various files and subfiles. He liked to keep everything as organized as possible and that in itself was a process of some many minutes. He double checked the location of the safe house. Went over what few drone specifications that were provided, which were paltry to say the least. tried to find a good place in their perimeter to fly his dragonflies in. Windows to use, hallways to take, etc. He doubted any of it was current. They would have to hunt for this over the next month.
After nearly an our of reviewing and sorting data he removed the chip and sat in silence. Tapping the tabletop of his workbench with one robotic finger. There was nothing more to it for the day. He pulled up the collapsible stool and set it down in front of the work bench, un buckling his latest basketball sized flying drone on the table. He casually opened up one of the plates to expose the wires and programming. Reaching for a handful of tools he sighed in contentment. Now this was company he enjoyed.

The elf was out the door almost immediately. Not the chatty type, apparently. But Red got it. Sometimes machines were easier to deal with than people. He and Red might not think too differently.

Spellslinger made a comment about needing the DocWagon bracelet already. Maybe he wasn't a complete arrogant bastard after all. Red liked working with people who didn't take themselves too seriously, something she herself often struggled with. Of course, in their line of work, one had to toe a fine line between pride and integrity. The latter got you work, the former got you killed. And as he thanked them for not being meathead junkies, Red realized something. He's probably just a rookie. Wants to be treated like a pro. We'll get 'im whipped into shape.

Drinks were served. Doom brought a teen girl (well, at least someone looking like a teen girl; you never knew for sure these days) to the table. It was unprofessional, and frankly, sorta creepy, but Red actually wouldn't mind a drink. Lei-Ne left—a shame, Red would've liked to chat a little—and left only her, the muscle, and the drunk teen. She'd have to make sure the Troll didn't take her home, for about a dozen different reasons. If nothing else, that was a reason to stay.

She grabbed a Carlsberg from the table—synthahol, the taste of which she preferred to the real deal—and looked at the three people left at the table. Frag it, let's do this.

"Alright, let's get a game goin'." Red put on a fashionable pair of AR glasses, hooked them up to her burner commlink and started up a game of cards. Her vision flickered for a second as the glasses recognized her surroundings, and a deck of virtual cards appeared on the table. Slipping on her AR gloves, she began flicking around a single digital card. "Okay, chummers, we're playing standard Texas. You should've all gotten an invite, go ahead and accept it and we can get started." Once they accepted, the cards would also appear on their glasses or cybereyes or whatever tech they were rolling with. She took a sip of beer. This should be fun.

Thorin continued to grin as he grasped another drink and quickly drained the contents, making it practically the third in a row he’d necked. A buzz was quickly beginning to take hold of him, the familiar and glorious feeling causing his mood to soar. He was more than an experienced drinker, probably actually a borderline alcoholic – he’d gotten the art of riding a high down to a tee, being able to drink copious amounts whilst still being able to maintain control (more or less) of his actions. As Quicksilver asked about what had happened in the club Thorin smirked and began to tell the story, the girl also shot in several comments as he did. Turned out she was already pretty intoxicated, obviously having been in the club for some time, but they were getting along pretty well and so he occasionally lowered his voice and would murmur something to her causing her to either laugh or blush.

As the group began to play poker he started to ask about the others, probing here or there into things that had interested him about them. He kept things simple and didn’t probe too much, trying more so to get to know them than actually interrogating them. He already knew he liked Quicksilver, and was definitely looking forwards to seeing how he worked on the job. Red Five interested him, and he hoped he would get on with her. Thorin had always been interested in hacking and if she was as good as he figured she would be then he was definitely impressed.

Accepting the poker invite the cards visualised on the table before him, his cybereyes seamlessly integrating a heads-up display alongside which would display his hand amogst other things. He also had a number of programs which would calculate odds and on occasion tip the scales in his favour, but he disabled them – not wanting to use anything like that in tonight’s game that might ruin the fun. As they played he joked occasionally and continued to drink heavily, also practically chain-smoking as the night wore on. He made sure to keep talking to the girl as well, after all if he neglected her completely to play poker his chances wouldn’t be great. He played only slightly recklessly, the alcohol giving him a slight disposition to take risks. If it came to it he had some nuyen to lose, always having an almost considerable amount set aside for this gambling ventures. He just hoped the cards were on his side.

Red seemed to like both Doom and Quicksilver. Both were funny chums, and the troll was a good player, taking just the right amount of risks. Guy knows what he's doing. Of course, being at least twice her size, the drinks he was inhaling probably weren't doing much to affect his judgment. She and Quicksilver were holding their own, but nonetheless Red was glad they weren't playing for actual money; she was somewhat strapped for creds.

She'd been living in a pretty good Snohomish apartment on a spoofed lease, Matrix subscription and everything, until a couple months ago. Landlord figured it out somehow, and she had to lay low for a while, actually paying for food and shelter with good old untraceable certified cred. Hence the apartment in Redmond and the bland soy meals. She'd tried to seem like she'd graciously accepted the job, but in reality it had been the first work she'd seen in months. She didn't really have a choice.

As they played, the troll asked them all a series of questions. They were innocent enough in nature, but with the chick in the room, Red chose not to answer them in too much detail. She mentioned the move and that she was from FreeCal, but didn't specify the whens and whys. The kid had probably already figured out that they were criminals, though, so she happily talked about hacking.

"See, the Matrix is built on metaphors. That's what makes the library's node look like an actual old-school library in VR with every book representing a file and the Stuffer Shack's node actually look like a Stuffer Shack with aisles and everything. The cards we're seeing on the table are just a metaphor for a piece of information on the 'Trix. It all looks and feels different from node to node, but underneath it's mostly the same code. So the code for accessing an old news story in the library and for retrieving information about a product from the Shack are virtually identical. When you reach for a "book", your commlink translates that movement into requesting the file, which is then translated back into you holding the book. There's a tiny delay which doesn't mean much for your average user—when you and I are just surfing the 'Trix in regular VR—but if you're hotsimming, especially if you're somewhere you're not supposed to be, it's a good idea to learn what goes on underneath the graphics. Send and retrieve directly instead of waiting for the metaphors. That's part of the reason security hackers sculpt their own nodes; they have the advantage of being familiar with every object, movement and sound, while everyone else needs a little longer to figure the metaphor out. That's what you need reality filters for, or agents that don't care about metaphors, or simply spending a little time checking out the metaphot of the node you wanna access, familiarize yourself with everything. You learn to speak the language of the Matrix, you're way ahead of everyone else."

Fortunately, Red learned a bit about the others as well, like the fact that Doom used to be an enforcer. None of it seemed like vital information, but knowing her new teammates a bit better couldn't hurt. She also learned that the girl was way too drunk to be having consensual sex with anyone. Cute chick, but she'd better stick to flirting and playing poker tonight. Red made a note (both mental and digital—while Red was jacked in there was hardly a difference) to just have Doomstrider get her number. Frag her some other time.

Thomas accepted the invitation without hesitation. Too bad they weren't actually playing for money, that would have been great for him. Thomas was with his over 30 years of card playing experiencing quite the cardsharp. As Quicksilver sipped his vodka at a rapid pace a couple of hands had been played. Thomas felt the alcohol get to his brain and felt the buzz coming on. He slid down somewhat in his chair and exhaled slowly. The Elf barmaid came in with another round of drinks and Thomas happily accepted, as long as he didn't get too hammered everything would be alright. As Thomas lit another cigarette a new hand was being dealt and Red was explaining some things about the matrix, which was quite interesting. He had a hacker tell him some things about the matrix and the web before, but Thomas had almost stroked out due to all the techno babble. Luckily he could now understand most of what Red was saying. Still doesn't beat a katana though, he thought.

"I tried my hand at hacking one time," Thomas started, they were sharing stories weren't they? "I tried to get into a small company with a couple of programs a buddy of mine, who I didn't really like to begin with, had. Luckily I was using some of his equipment, which was traced... Back to him. So I got in, got traced, got done what had to be done, got out and got away scott free." Thomas grinned, adding, "So, that was my first and my last attempt." He laughed some more and then sighed... I have just been too lucky all my life, this will probably all turn to shit sooner or later. Thomas played with the thought to tell these people some more about his past. It was not as if Doom's date, let's call her his date, would remember any of it.Than again, Quicksilver wasn't a tearjerker... To hell with it! He didn't know if it was the booze or the atmosphere, but Thomas would at least give them something of a background on himself.

"My parents were fucked over by a company when I was a kid. I don't care which company as it doesn't matter anymore. They took out loans and got killed because of it, they were fools. Never write a check your ass can't cash. Anywho, they died, as did my two sisters, and I lived on the streets after that. I became an enforcer for a small syndicate and later quite the accomplished hit man, if I may say so. I started running this game after I got cut down, by Vortex, who had his ass handed to him after my improvements. So how did you guys get into this game?" Thom offered Red another beer, as an invite to talk, and won another hand. Let's see how these people came to be here...