Shadowrun: The Package (Game thread)

[FalloutJack]

Who says 'chummer'? Well, everybody, actually. It's part of the new-world slang. Null sweat, frag this drekhole, and so on. Of course, Demon was inflecting 'chummer' the way you would call someone a newbie or idiot, in this case. This is just an aside, as Demon is certainly not a mind-reader, but it is a point worth noting. As for the troll's actual thoughts, well...this other gunslinger guy was clearly a wasting the air by talking, because he had nothing to say. Thus, he was now ignored. For his sake, Demon hoped his skills were smarter than his mouth. Speaking of mouth, the scarred man had quite a big one himself, and presumptuous. Johnsons are PAID to sit there and deal with runners for a while. It's expected that they have questions to answer and stuff after the briefing.

Suffice to say, at least the Johnson himself was being courteous around here. The low-profile nature of the convoy made it necessary to contain their force among themselves. They won't have super reinforcements and quite possibly they may not call Knight's Errant in. Even still, jamming communications would be a necessity. With two deckers here, it should be possible, at least. The armored transports were, of course, armored...and therefore probably military. Now, as the Johnson left the room and the door shut, Demon stood up and the elf began to talk. However, as she did so, the troll pressed a few buttons on his comlink. The white noise jammer was now preventing transmissions, total blanket interference. He did so in case the room was bugged. You never know...

"According to the Johnson, this is an advanced prototype engine. Read as experimental, as expensive, and as extremely hard to just go monkeying around with, so my advice for taking it apart is NO. Or not unless there's no alternative. As for stopping then, the hows and whens and wheres should not be asked until we have all of the figures. So, our first order of business is..."

He picked up the data chip and handed it to Riley, who was both a decker and apparently on the ball.

"Ladies first."

 

[Gabanuka]

The Johnson left. He was paid to answer questions, not overhear plans. Question time was over.

Within a second of his departure the Brute got to his feet and addressed the group. His language and desire for control suggested something beyond the usual wall of troll flesh. He needed a new nickname. Mr Gray let him speak before cutting in.

'"All the figures" would include information on who I'm working with. The data on that chip is worthless unless we're able to do something with it. What's everyone bringing to the table here?'

 

[Knight Captain Kerr]

"You can call me Geist. Used to be Lone Star, Department of Robbery. Was my job to catch people like us and the skills I picked up didn't exactly go away. Investigation, talking to people, guns." said Riley deciding to introduce herself and her skill set. As she was talking she tried to hook up the chip to see what she could get off it. "Also a dab hand at decking, not the best in the world but, I manage." Riley added shrugging just before saying 'I manage.' Finally she decided to share her commlink info, if they were going to be working together they'd have to stay in contact.

 

[Spector29]

Springing off Riley's comment, Adam speaks up. "My name's Adam, or Spector if you're handle-inclined, and I suspect I'll be doing some heavy Matrix lifting. Spent half my childhood in the Matrix learning how to get into things I shouldn't, and half of it dreaming up new shiny bits to put in myself. First idea is some new eyes." Adam chuckled.

"If I might offer advice? Stick me in a room and forget about me, I'm skinnier than the Elf. THe SMG can help take the edge off in a fight, but I'm mainly around to make sure that Matrix-side runs smoothly as possible."

Adam also volunteered his Contact info. These didn't seem like bad people, yet.

 

[drmigit2]

After swirling his cocktail for a moment, Zadikiel leaned forth on his table. Everyone was discussing who they are, what they did, and whatnot. He kind of enjoyed keeping things a mystery, but it was not conducive to the group for him to do so. The less than stellar looking angel put his cocktail down for a moment, and smiled.

"My name is...well you all can call me Zadikiel. I have been brought on this mission to make sure that everyone makes it out alive. I am a doctor, you see, best in the business of keeping those of your nature alive. I myself will not be participating too heavily in armed combat, but I do have my tricks." Zadikiel had a devious grin as he leaned back in his chair and started sipping his cocktail again. He figured that would be enough said, for now.

 

[Terratina.]

Introductions... Windrunner hated introductions, they were monotonous and repetitive. And so, she keeps hers short and to the point.

"Windrunner. Shaman. Sky Father. Scouting. Magic. Astral."

Windrunner left it at that. Did they really need a primer on what a shaman could do? She assumed these people had been on 'run before, and had decent heads on their shoulders. Even if there were a few people who seemed to like the sound of their own voice. No riggers so far, though. They just could bring of their contacts, however.

Windrunner, on the other hand, was pretty much on her own in this. The Koshari wouldn't help with this one 'run.

 

[FalloutJack]

The old man was kind of irksome. Demon felt that he was either cynical by nature or because his face had seen a few too many bad ops in its time. Perhaps he'd worked with too many people like our mouthy gunslinger, all talk and no performance. Or perhaps he was just an asshole with a drekked-up face. We may never know. The way he seemed to want to be the one with the Big Man Pants was familiar, though. Plenty of 'personalities' like that in the world, usually in business or politics. Not something the troll was heavily knowledgeable in, but a runner deals with that kinda' person from time to time. This guy could've been a Johnson himself at one time, maybe. He had one thing wrong, though. A runner's skills could do something about anything if you were creative about it. A room full of meatosaurus rexes like himself could probably tear ass, carry the engine to a rented truck, and am-scray. A group of deckers and riggers could divert and screw the convoy up, put down their automated everything, and scrag the resistance in vehicle and drone combat. It's always a matter of doing what you CAN do and filling in the blanks as best you can. For instance, it wasn't looking like they had Riggers, so renting a truck was sounding good about now.

Nevertheless, the old guy had insisted on knowing who or what he was working for. He should've guessed half of them by looking already, though. Kind of irritating, but this part of the discussion was a case of El Shrug-O to Demon. Of course, it WAS eye-opening to find that the decker girl - Geist - was Ex-Lonestar. Boy, if anyone here was surprised by that...well...nevermind. Decking was not her specialty, it seems, but Demon was right in pegging the 'professional' in her, it seemed. 'Spector' was a squishy decker himself, of course, probably more into the net than Geist and declaring himself next to useless in meat-space. Never declare your weaknesses so outright. They'll know, already. Zadikiel caught his eye, stating that he was a doctor. Aha! So THAT'S what it was! The squirt-gun runners! Buncha guys making corporate stooges drop left and right! That made the news! Wonder what happened to them...? Well anyway, Zadikiel was obviously team medic, as blatently obvious to everyone that Windrunner was a shaman, most-likely a bird shaman. Demon looked around. It was him, the gunslinger, and the old man. Might as well be him.

"Well, I think it's very clear what I do here, but I'll play if you want. You call me Demon. I'm the mainline defense and the hard offense, the spear AND the shield. The heavy combat aspect of this operation will pretty much by my schtick, though there are a few other talents I have that'll come in handy."

He turned to Mr. Gray now.

"Well, that just leaves you, the elf, and obvious Gunslinger, and I'm having a devil of a time figuring you out. Why don't you share with the class now?"

 

[Gabanuka]

Geist, Spectre and Demon. Runners just love the supernatural when they're picking handles, even when you can run into the supernatural around the corner. Mr. Gray never had the luxury of picking a name; he was what he was.

'Mr. Gray'

In some rooms that would be enough, then again a few of these guys looked new to the shadows.

'I'm no Decker or Mage but I'll try my hand at anything else, give me a role and I'll make it fit. It also helps that everyone who's anyone in this city knows me or owes a favour. Guess that makes me a Face too.'

 

[Tortilla the Hun]

"I guess that just leaves me," said the Gunslinger, looking over each of his new co-workers. "The name's Russ. I'm good with guns. Put one in my hand, gimme a place ta point it, and I guarantee what I hit ain't gonna be troublesome no more, no siree. I also got the fastest set-a legs ever ta touch the dirt, so if ya need me ta be somewhere I'll be Johnny-on-the-spot. S'pose tha's all I got ta say about that. Now, Mr. Gray, I think I heard somethin' somewheres about ya. S'posed ta be pretty big. Very reliable. Guess we'll find out once the time comes. I tell ya though, one thing people definitely got right--got a real face fer radio right there, pal. I mean yeesh, looks like ya took a nose dive in a blender. I know I love me a good margarita, but I usually like to wait 'til it's done mixin'. But yeah, nice ta be workin' with a legend such a yaself."

 

[Gabanuka]

Gray gazed in turn at the other runners. An odd group.

'So we have no Riggers and little to no magic. We can work around the magic but we'll need a vehicle somewhere down the line. Needless to say I'm sure we all know a man with a van.'

Resting his elbows of the table Gray moved the tips of his loves finger together in a point.

As it stands our options are to somehow steal the engine before they move it or find a way to take it from the convoy. Preferably without the rest of the convoy noticing. So. What's everyone thinking?'

 

[Knight Captain Kerr]

"You don't need to be a rigger to drive a car. Be a lot less traffic if you did. Might not be as suited for high speed chases but we'll be fine. Sure at least one of us knows how to drive a truck." said Riley. Not having a rigger wasn't ideal, but it was hardly as mandatory as Mr Gray was making out. "No matter how much security is on the convoy the headquarters will have tonnes more and besides the information on the chip is for the route. Now the simplest plan would be to find a good spot on the route for an ambush, shoot anyone who tries to stop us stealing it and take the engine to the drop off point. Imagine we can come up with a better plan than that though. No matter what we'll have to decide if we're stealing their truck or finding a way to move the engine into one of our own."

 

[FalloutJack]

Mr. Gray seemed to have a very high opinion of himself, putting it mildly. Demon snerked when he said he also counted as a Face. Seriously, hhe might've been decent talker, but a Face is called that for more reasons than his wordplay. He's also presentable and cordial. By contrast, Mr. Gray was a walking trainwreck and kind of rude. The elf spoke up as we- WHOA! He just noticed the fangs. The elf had a bit of the orc in her, it seems. Well, that made more sense now, at least. Russ was, of course, a gunslinger, and the elf was a fighter and a facilitator. Interesting. Mr. Gray, playing at leader in a group of individuals, spoke up again.

"So we have no Riggers and little to no magic. We can work around the magic but we'll need a vehicle somewhere down the line. Needless to say I'm sure we all know a man with a van."

"Very easily, in fact."

Actually, it'd be easier for Fisheye to send them a pizza delivery van choking with 12 extra larges for them to hijack, but that was unimportant right now. Anyway, Mr. Gray proposed that they steal the target vehicle without the rest of the convoy noticing. Geist suggested a classic ambush maneuver. The scarface was asking for the opinions of others. Demon gave his.

"Alright, I think taking the engine without anyone noticing is impossible. If they're smart, they'll be on comms or even decks, talking to each other, eyeballing the other's position at the same time. The smart money's on them guarding the front and back of the target so they can't just lose track of it. If I had to plan it, I would say similar to Geist's, but a little different. They'll be expecting an attack. I say the non-descript van comes in for a little distraction. You give me a wheelman and a rear door to shoot out of, and I'll give you a focus for their attention while the rest of you combat types surprise the less-protected target. Hell, if the shaman's got a spirit or two on tap, we get 'em with a bit of magic on top of all that and a pair of deckers ought to keep any calls from going out."

You know, for a Troll, he seemed to know a damn lot about tactics and procedure in terms of any sort of battle engagement.

 

[drmigit2]

Zadikiel sighed audibly. He was out of alcohol, but worse was that this mission was full of nothing but smooth talkers and gunslingers. That was about the fastest way for a mission to turn itself over and die, along with anyone foolish enough to go in. Still, the pay was worth the risk here, and Zadikiel was particularly good at avoiding death. He shrugged and began to rifle through his own brain.

"So we have a bunch of people on comms, who want to keep this thing in one piece and going to the correct destination, who will absolutely report us for even going near their transport. The question then, is if they are truly the only ones who could feasibly ruin the operation, why not get them on our side?"

Zadikiel had a wide grin now. This was a test he had wanted to run for a very long time. DocWagon gave him access to so many different compounds and toys that he really had no limit to his options. This one, could be straight out of a movie.

 

[Gabanuka]

While the Troll seemed a touch sharper than his kin there was an air a violence about him which was very in theme. No matter how he put it his plan boiled down to 'I'll get a big gun and shoot at them. You guys shoot some other people. We'll see what happens.'

'Anything loud and we draw the attention of god knows how many guns. If you drive up to that convoy with a truck and a machine gun your face will have more lead in it than mine.'

He tapped the alloy around his left eye for emphasis before turning to the man-who-looked-like-a-dwarf-but-apparently-was-not-a-dwarf.

'If we're talkin' bribes then there's no way we can outpay NeoNet. Unless you have something sneakier on you mind.'

 

[drmigit2]

Zadekiel's grin got wider as he said slowly. "Has anyone here heard of Carcerans? They are these fun little delivery mechanisms for really anything the owner wishes. I like to use cyanide myself, but anything could work. When injected into the bloodstream, either through needles or maybe a bit of DMSO, they work based on a timer. When the timer expires, they release whatever it is I put inside them into the victim. If we can figure out who is driving the car, we can inject them with Carcerans and only offer the antidote if they go along with the plan. We could either get them with it before the mission, though they would not be allowed to learn that they have been injected until they begin driving. Or we could spray them during, though that might be more risky as they could freak out. Simply though, if they wish to get an antidote, they would have to be good boys and not tell on us."

Zadekiel then looked at the ceiling. "Getting that done, won't be my field though. I can make the stuff, and I can make the delivery mechanisms, I can even do the talking when we reveal it, but injecting or spraying these fellows, along with finding them, will not be my job."

 

[Terratina.]

The ball had started rolling with the planning, shame it hadn't got very far.

Windrunner listened as the ohers planned aloud. The dimmers chatted amongside themselves of ambushes, going in guns blazing, and something entirely more devious. It sounded like some sort of biological kink bomb. Windrunner didn't like it, to put it shortly. Collars or not, they were still people; still living, breathing, thinking beings. The meer thought of having steel in her skull was anathema to the shaman, let alone placing some strange thing inside someone else and that wasn't all! The runt of a man who had suggested it wasn't even going to do the brunt of the work. Making the material was one thing, sticking it inside the desired targets was quite another. However, if it meant mission success...

"A disgusting proposition." Windrunner commented and left it at that.

 

[drmigit2]

"A disgusting proposition."

"But an effective one." Zadikiel countered. "Killing these people is not what any of us really want, and this would give us a means to avoid murder. If you think threats are more disgusting than murder, then I am not sure where your logic comes. What we do have, is a lot of murder weapons and a few people who claim to be faces. Using those properly, we can still get the job done, but if we aren't careful we will simply get the attention of every mook with a gun for miles. I might be a good doctor, but I can't fix someone with a thousand dragonfire rounds in the brain."

Zadekiel looked around for a waitress, but they had left the room. He looked into his empty glass and sighed. He was going to need more alcohol.

 

[Terratina.]

"...If you think threats are more disgusting than murder, then I am not sure where your logic comes."

Someone was overreacting to a simple comment. Windrunner narrowed her eyes, of course the runt would be a bit mouthy. And of course the ork poser would cut in. She spoke of a different method, but all had their downsides. Corps had various ways to verify who was who and NeoNET would be no exception. SINs, implants... There were various leashes to keep workers loyal and efficient.

"Torture, not threats." She said, not bothering to bring up the fanatical glee with which the man mentioned the damn thing or replying to Robin. No point telling others what they should know, after all.