[hr] [@Izurich] [b]Outside SatoCorp Site 05[/b], June 12th 2177, 21:54[/b], tick... tock... "Helpfully: medics are on their wa--". The tactical drone stuttered and rattled as Lenneth accelerated off against its last functioning parts. The buzzdrones dropped like sparking mosquitoes once the scorned hurricane of a woman was done with them, buzzing up what little luxury remained of the lounge. The HaLO module had triangulated the entry and exit holes of the sniper shots into a single point. And as she slid out of the shattered window with all systems overclocked, every actuator in Lenneth's body lined up millimeter by millimeter: shoulder, stock, barrel, and in the distance, that one square inch in that one window out of thousands. [i]Tick... Tock...[/i] Lenneth's internal countdown said. [b]Bang[/b]. And in the opposite Site 04 building, the cleaning bots would be having an unexpected start of the day mopping up red. "Status report!" barked a suit in SatoCorp Ops Control, data streams scrolling past on his cybernetic eyes. "Sniper's telemetry indicates termination, sir, target 'Ghost' is at large!" replied the security officer. The suit cursed. "Deploy cleanup now, we cannot afford to let this leak!" The way down in Neon-York is long. But near-terminal velocity doesn't need to be fatal when near-fully augmented and clever with it. With systems still overclocked, Lenneth scanned her options. Closest were other corporate rooftops and skycar platforms, then a maze of pipes and machinery that marked the beginning of the industrial sector. Both had plenty of cover and escape routes, and there were plenty of aerial worker-drones with minimal programming she could hijack for transport, or distractions. Lenneth knew it would be suicidal for any corporation to send non-NYSF armed forces into public no-man's land after the wars. But still, time would be of the essence: they would be scanner-sweeping the area before long, and with warning signs blaring in her mind, and alarms blaring in the distance, the question now was how she would hide, and where Lenneth would attempt to escape to once in the clear. [hr] [@Eviledd1984] [b]Black Sun Neurostim Den, June 12th 2177, 20:21[/b], tick... tock... The lanky man led Ben through the back corridors, which became more guarded as they went. Ben was met with silent stares, undoubtedly already alerted of his coming. After arriving at one of the back rooms, Ben's guide ushered him in, bowed to the room as he stepped in himself, and kept watch in silence next to the door, hand on his sidearm. There sat a woman waiting for him. "My brother tells me you wish to join the Pack." Straight to the point. "I wonder what brought a person of your [i]standing[/i] here. Tough times?" She said with a questioning tone of voice as she stood up, eyeing Ben up and down. She had the posture of a grizzled soldier. Her appearance hinted at some Japanese genetics, and she had a mole under one of her ultra high-end blue cybernetic eyes. Ben had seen a few men and women with similar appearances in the den, but this one was a veteran of the clones for sure, judging by the scars. Her right hand was almost entirely robotic save for a lone ring finger wearing their sigil ring - had she lost her fingers to some enemy corpo-soldier in the wars, or to the mob as punishments? "Jäger SA-2, Gretchen to my brothers and sisters." The woman introduced herself as, and shook Ben's hand with a vice-like grip. As she did, Ben felt a tiny needle shoot up his palm, drawing blood and tissue. When Gretchen pulled back her hand, she took the small blood sample from her robotic limb and plugged it into the terminal on the desk. Though her eyes were turned away, Ben knew they monitored and judged all his reactions and body language. Turning back from the terminal to face Ben, she clasped her hands and a small devious smile crept over her face. "You must understand our selection criteria for new associates are [i]very[/i] rigorous. [i]Blood demands loyalty[/i], after all. I will remind you it's not too late to turn back. Else, tell me: what will our background checks find when we trace your DNA, Mr... What was it again?" [hr] [@KazAlkemi] [b]Sprocket's Scraphouse, June 12th 2177, 15:55[/b], tick... tock... Sprocket's jaw clenched in a mix of nerves and anger. She leaned over the counter. "Listen, you drive a hard bargain, but you're not the usual thug that bastard Ratface sends out to do his errands for him. So I tell you what..." She pushed some buttons and a hologram popped up in front of her. With a swipe of her fingers she bounced it over to Zain. [i]Holo-Cloak: active camo nano-fabric. Not perfect, but in low-light environments it'll make you damn-near invisible. Combat Stims: muscle stims, reflex stims, pain inhibitors, all-in-1. Short duration, but good for a fight. Also good for other things, if you catch my drift... or so I've been told. Scrambler: for when you need to disappear from parts of the Extranet. Gets rid of traces of your PID and tracking data.[/i] But before Zain had the time to make a choice, Sprocket's eyes widened. "Time's up, Sprocket." A modulated voice, cold and calculated, came from the door. An angular helmet obscured his face, but his stance and nonchalance betrayed him as being a fellow bounty hunter, one Zain knew well. Servos humming with each step, his hand hovering over his gun, Varis Hark approached. He raised his gloved hand and activated a holographic display showing the bounty warrant. "You are wanted for illegal trade and suspicion of involvement in terror-related transactions. Surrender peacefully and cooperate, or be prepared to face the consequences." As Varis Hark passed Zain, his helmet tilted imperceptibly as if sizing him up. Without breaking stride, he murmured in a low, mechanical voice, "This doesn't concern you, Anders. Stick to your own bounties." Sprocket locked eyes with Zain, and the hologram started displaying her thought-messages. "You'll get the pick before I clean the camera-data and migrate the store, but I'm gonna need some help here." [hr] [@AwesomeZero5] [b]Somewhere in the Depths of the Lower City, June 12th 2177, 17:00[/b], tick... tock... "Still looking out for me, huh, Kit?" Virginia smiled. "Sleep's a luxury for people with my job I'm afraid, but I'll be alright, you know me and my supplements..." she said as she slid the chip into her own data-port augment. Her eyes glazed over for a second before she took it out again, data transfer complete, the chip now smoking as the meltdown command was triggered. "Well, well," she purred as she looked at Rizzo. "You reeled in a big one this time. Good job gentlemen, rewards will be handsome as always." Rizzo crossed his arms. "Get down to it, Virginia, we didn't dodge gangsters just to exchange pleasantries." Virginia shifted fully into her business persona. "There has been some interesting corporate maneuvering in the city recently. We suspect that elements of the top players are jockeying for control by using neural erasure to eliminate threats and maintain control within the ranks. And this..." she tapped her data ports "...gives us one piece of the puzze. They're planning a gala. Very secretive. Top functionaries, corporate security details, the whole deal. But more importantly, they've erased something from the data, there's a gap in the memories in here, and our client wants to know what it is. They've paid handsomely for our expertise in the discovery phase of this case." Virginia's eyes narrowed slightly. "It won't be easy," she mused, tapping her chin. "Getting in there, but it will be worth a whole lot of Bits. Or, if we play our cards right, it could secure us a few favors in high places, even a seat at the bargaining table." Almost hesitantly, she turned back to Kit. "We may need you once again. If you're not too busy living life on the edge..." [hr] [@Expendable] [b]Lower City Alley, June 20st 2177, 01:00[/b], tick... tock... Some weeks later, Niner found herself in a dim-lit alley in the Neon-York's Lower City's depths. In her time out of digital servitude, Dex's team had rigorously uploaded physical infiltration trainings and tested her to build on her digital skills. And now, her first mission had begun. The air was thick with anticipation, the smell of ozone, and the sound of hovercars humming in the distance. Her squadmate, callsign 'Rho', adjusted Niner's neural interface collar, and eyed the rundown warehouse across the street. Its facade may have been scarred with digital graffiti and broken windows slabbed with holographic ads, but they hid the inside of the facility from view almost [i]too[/i] well for it to be accidental. Niner saw a surveillance drone patrolling the area, and every now and again guards too heavily armed to be the mere squatters they pretended to be took a stroll outside. Intel suggested it was an unregistered fabricator lab used to produce high-end cybernetics for illegal operations. "Niner," Dex crackled over the comms, "Welcome to your first op. Stick to the mission parameters: infiltrate, gather any evidence you can find, communications or operational logs if possible. Get in, get out. Rho will help you. Good luck." Niner scanned the area and found some Extranet channels they could potentially use to listen in on and insert communications, and there were maintenance tunnels. Rho suggested she could try to physically infiltrate the building through a side entrance or the rooftop that seemed less guarded. Then a sudden noise came from inside the building, and they heard a guard approach. [hr] [color=918b8a][b]GM Actions and Prompts:[/b] [list] [*] [@Izurich]: Buzzdrones and Sniper both rolled -3 on Defend, and are taken out, gain +1 FP for choosing to exit the conflict. [*] [@Eviledd1984]: Gretchen Compels Ben's High Concept/Relationship Aspect, accept to gain +1 FP. [/list][/color] [hr]