Author Topic: Shadowrun - Chapter FIve - Welcome to the Sprawl (Read 220236 times)

Maxx · « **on:** »

WELCOME TO THE SPRAWL CHUMMER.

It's Seattle in the 2050s and I must say the old girl has looked better. Buildings are stained by the acid rain. Huge sections of the city have given way to slums. Nobody in their right mind goes to Puyallup or Redmond unless they are looking for trouble or trying to disappear.

They won't let you into other sections of the city unless you've got the right credentials. And above it all, the corporations look down, benevolent dictators that are trying to squeeze every single drop of value from what lies beneath their grasp. Their greatest asset and their greatest vulnerability are one and the same.

Those who run in the shadows control that last sliver of power. The corporations hate it but they can't live without it. The shadows are too useful to be ignored or destroyed. There is money to be made as well as fame. Just don't get too famous or somebody will be making their next score over your dead body....

Welcome to the sprawl, chummer. I hope you can stay alive.

LET THE GAMES BEGIN

Maxx · « **Reply #1 on:** »

August 13th 6:45 pm - The Rusty Nail

There was an young man sitting on a stool playing a guitar. for those close enough to hear him, the music was breathtaking, mesmerizing. To those near the bar or the pool tables, he was simply background noise. For those who could detect such things, a mystical aura hung around him. A thousand years ago, they might have called him a bard. In the modern parlance, he was a performance adept. Given the choice between the two terms, he would have preferred the older name. It sounded better. His real name was Paul but nobody ever called him anything but Stringer.

Maxx · « **Reply #2 on:** »

August 13th 6:46 pm - The Rusty Nail

The pool tables were surrounded by a crowd. A handful were paying attention to their own games but most were focused on one table where a pair of men were trading victories back and forth. They'd been playing for hours and victory seemed more based on how the break went than on any other factor.

There was a considerable amount of betting going on around the table. Neither player seemed to notice. They were far more intent on their own battle. Ultimate victory was going to belong to the one who's nerve held out the longest. The first one to crack was going to go down in a ball of flames.

Maxx · « **Reply #3 on:** »

August 13th 6:47 pm - The Rusty Nail

One man ruled over the chaos that swirled through the bar. He stood like a statue behind the bar, serving drinks with a practiced hand and listening to his patrons with an equally practiced ear. Pinned to his shirt was a faded name tag, where you could, in the right light and if you were close enough, learn that the man who called the Rusty Nail his own would answer to the name of Chester.

Maxx · « **Reply #4 on:** »

August 13th 6:48 pm - Outside The Rusty Nail

The parking lot of the bar had its own little clusters of people. If they knew who you were, there were people who could sell you just about anything or provide you with any kind of service you could imagine. The sellers of drugs and guns and other commodities generally kept to themselves, not mixing much with the merchants of services. There were men who would be more than willing to provide girls of any age, with few questions asked and at least one who would turn somebody into a corpse for the right amount of cash with even fewer questions asked.

Car thieves rubbed shoulders with cat burglars, occasionally swapping stories and advice on which tools to avoid or acquire. Mystical items were to be found and, if the buyer had the gift, they might actually find something that did exactly what it was claimed to do. Others who knew nothing of magic were likely to end up with a useless trinket that had been picked up a few days earlier at a yard sale or flea market.

Let the buyer beware. It was the unofficial motto of the Rusty Nail marketplace.

Micula · « **Reply #5 on:** »

OOC Posted with permission from Maxx

BIC

Keep going.. for fuck's sake keep going Alyss' feet pounded the cracked pavement as she raced through the barren wasteland. From behind and just out of sight, vehicles... old, decrepit, but still faster than her two legs thundered in a wide circle around the rubble. Her fingers crasped the small memory crystal as her breath came in ragged gasps.

Nearly there

The remnants of the road veered sharply to the right, but she kept going. Off the cracked pavement and down into the weed strewn jungle that had been a park.

"Alyss where are you?" Her headset crackled into life but she did not answer, she needed all her breath to keep running.

"Have you got it?" The voice was harsh, demanding. "Alyss..!" He called again, yet once again, she held her tongue. "answer me you fucking whore!"

Alyss dove into the cracked remains of an old drain and crouched low, had she been spotted? At least it was a standard street gang and not the other kind of trouble. She glanced at the crystal and then reached her fingers to the transmit switch.

"Would you mind keeping your fucking mouth shut when I'm not responding. If the company was running me I'd be a smear on the fucking ground by now."

"So what! I need that data.. and if you can't get it to me, you don't get paid."

"You'll get it, now shut the fuck up!" Alyss pushed the crystal into the small compartment concealed under her skin and shut off the communicator.

Glancing back into the sprawl, she turned up the juice on her earpiece, letting the noise filter through her brain. The gang was still running, but they weren't near her. Moving in a crouch she headed across the weed strewn landscape hoping to get to safety before someone else pegged her.

The glittering apartment of Kahlia Bentwhistle was packed, the party was in full swing and several guests had already passed out from some of the more potent entertainments. Kahlia herself was couched in her large four poster bed, mouth eagerly tasting the nectar of one girl as another pleasured her.

It was a celebration, a celebration of her five years in successful service and she planned to eke every ounce of enjoyment that the privileges this milestone had to offer. She moaned as the girl's tongue flicked eagerly over her clit and she buried her head between the other's legs, her mouth drinking the other girl's juices as she did so.

"K!" The wall communicator in the bedroom spoke once and dragged her from the pleasing sensations. Swearing, she pushed the girl's off and pulled a robe over her lithe form. Depressing the send switch, she adopted a polite expression and smiled as the face came into view.

"Sorry to bust your party darling!" The voice of her manager echoed over the plush furnishings. "But we have a problem. I want you back at the office right now!"

"Yes sir!" She said calmly, sweetly, her rich brown gaze still as she pretended her delight at being dragged from her party by the company.

"I'll be right there!" She shut of the communicator and swore. "Fuck the man, I swear he does it on purpose. I haven't had a good night in ages." She turned back to the bed and watched as the other two continued without her. "Get out of my fucking bed, get your fucking clothes on and sod off!" She called across to them. "If I'm not getting any.. you certainly ain't!"

Maxx · « **Reply #6 on:** »

Alyss caught the faintest whiff of smoke. The smell of a cigar drifted through the air. It wasn't difficult to tell that it was an expensive one. Somewhere nearby was someone with money. In this part of town, it meant they were either very lost, very stupid or very good at things that were very bad.

A few moments of careful looking let her know where the smoke was coming from. A battered Land Rover was pulled over beside one of the few still working street lights and the driver was looking under the hood. He was swearing to himself under his breath but otherwise didn't seem too concerned by his situation.

Micula · « **Reply #7 on:** »

Alyss hesitated for just a moment, glancing this way and that before she flicked her hair, changing it's colour from night black to bubblegum pink in an instant. Sliding the weapon out of sight she tugged at the various zips that made up her body armour and exposed acres of pale skin. A quick wipe with a wet wipe followed by the fastest application of make-up ever seen followed. After running her fingers through her hair, she adopted her slinkiest pose, placed her hand against her hip and sauntered across the rubble strewn street.

"You looking for something?" She asked, her voice a slow, sensual drawl, completely diffent from the businesslike tone she had used earlier. "You look lost darlin'!"

Maxx · « **Reply #8 on:** »

It was the fastest draw of the biggest pistol she'd ever seen. "Piss off," said a deep voice that still carried a slight hint of the deep south. The hand that held the weapon steady was still flesh but the speed with which he pulled the weapon could only mean the man was chipped and chipped hardcore. "Your too far off the beaten path to be a real hooker, so whatever you want, I'm not willing to give it."

Micula · « **Reply #9 on:** »

"Oh relax big guy!" Alyss responded with a bite of her original voice. "If I was going to smash in your cranium and make off with your wheels I'd have done it already." She raised an elegant eyebrow at the tools scattered by his feet.

"Though if that were my intention I doubt I'd get far with the mess that engines in!" Her eyes returned to his, knowing that his gaze would indicate his intent to shoot.

"So what did you do? Steal a corp motor only to find that the engine goes dead after 5K?"

Kahlia reached the boardroom and checked her appearance in the smoked glass walls before pressing her eye to the retinal scanner. The walnut door slid open silently and she walked through into the darkened room.

"Ahh Miss Bentwhistle, so sorry we broke up your party!" The voice came from one of the two suits at the end of the long table. "But we have a problem that only your special talents can deal with."

The older man pressed a switch and a hologram swam into view. "This is our lab facility in downtown. Twenty minutes ago, someone breached it and spirited out one of our prototypes. It goes without saying that a runner pulled the job, we want you to track and retreive."

Kahlia looked as the image played, showing the shadowy figure move through the corridors.

"Is that the best you could get?" She asked watching the hazy images.

"Unfortunately yes, they managed to crack the cameras and though they weren't knocked out, we can't clear that up. A team waits for you at the lab complex. Go through their information and then seek, locate and destroy."

Kahlia nodded, staring at the shadowy figure with interest before she pulled herself up and headed for the door.

Maxx · « **Reply #10 on:** »

"Does this look like a corpmobile?" the man asked. "Last time I checked it was Limo not Land Rover as the height of corporate chic. She just needs to be reminded who the boss is every now and then." He hadn't lowered the pistol. The barrel looked like it was chambered for shotgun shells at the very least. "You also might find cracking my cranium a little harder than you might think."

With one hand he closed the hood. "I'm guessing you need a ride. Cab fare starts at an even grand. People shoot at me, I add an extra zero and you pay for any ammunition I expend."

Micula · « **Reply #11 on:** »

Alyss nearly choked, a grand was extortion, but beggars couldn't be choosers and there wasn't any other transport waiting. She would usually make it out on foot, but Keller was impatient and the locals were stirred up so..

"you got a deal!" She said finally, looking at the other guy as she tugged at the zips on her outfit, re-doing her costume to the armoured kit it was. "So what's your name?"

Maxx · « **Reply #12 on:** »

"Bishop," the man answered, as if the single name told her everything she needed to know. "Hop in." He want kind enough to open the passenger door for her and when the interior light came on it revealed an oddly shaped bundle in the back seat, covered with what looked like a piece of carpet.

"Where to?" he asked, after he'd slipped into the driver's seat. He had holstered the massive pistol and now held out his hand.

Micula · « **Reply #13 on:** »

"Wirejam!" Alyss replied as she slid into the passenger seat and made herself more comfortable. She shook his hand, noting the strength in his knuckles.

go careful with this one she thought calmly as she settled herself. "And I need to get to the rusty Nail."

Maxx · « **Reply #14 on:** »

Bishop snickered. "Back door, front door or parking lot?" he asked. "Just out of curiosity, are those jokers trying to sneak up on us looking for you or are they just looking for trouble?"

There were six of them, all trying to stick to the same patch of shadows. They obviously weren't professionals. It didn't mean they weren't dangerous.

Micula · « **Reply #15 on:** »

"Well I don't recognise them!" Alyss replied as she removed her aries predator from its concealed holster.

"So I haven't invited them to party. They look like common or garden thugs. Gangs for hire." She glanced at the burly guy next to her. "Can we get out without playing with them?"

Maxx · « **Reply #16 on:** »

"That depends," Bishop said. "If they open fire, I have a professional obligation to shoot back and you end up with a much higher cab fare than you started with. I'll see what I can do about making them duck for cover while we drive off in a cloud of dust." He reached over the seat and pulled the carpet back.

In addition to the pair of LAW rockets lying on the floor, there was a large pile of plastique, in neat one kilo bricks. It was a very large pile. Bishop picked up a larger version of the pistol he'd pointed at Wirejam. It looked like it might have been an assault shotgun or some sort of roomsweeper. He grinned and opened the truck door.

"Hey assholes, how do you make Cajun idiot barbeque? With a grenade!" He didn't wait for the gang to respond, he just pulled the trigger and filled the street with the bright light of white phosphorous.

Wirejam could hear the screams even inside the car.

Micula · « **Reply #17 on:** »

"I'm seriously impressed Bishop!" Wirejam responded with an awed tone. "You've enough kit there to start your own personal war."

Her eyes scanned the streets, looking for survivors. Satisfied that none had survived the onslaught of flame, she settled back in the seat.

"No wonder you don't seem bothered about driving a rig like this on these streets!" She glanced at the rockets and checked out the plastique, making a mental note not to toss anything flammable into the back of the truck.

Maxx · « **Reply #18 on:** »

"Ain't no such thing as overkill," Bishop said, slipping the grenade launcher back into the back seat. "I admit using Willy Petes on street scum is pushing the limit but it was what I had loaded and they weren't worth changing clips for. It's a good thing that were that close. You wouldn't have wanted to pay for the mortar rounds or the rockets. As it is, your bill just went up by a hundred. WP rounds aren't cheap." He pulled away from the curb and from the smell of scorching flesh.

Micula · « **Reply #19 on:** »

"I figured!" Wirejam replied with a wry twist to her lips. "Remind me not to make you mad!" She glanced at the launcher again and whistled through her teeth. "You've gotta be good...." or very very bad "to afford all that hardware." She glanced over at his profile.

"You work solo? Or do you have a crew?"

Maxx · « **Reply #20 on:** »

Bishop shook his head. "I had a crew once. Whole damned company of them. We kicked ass and didn't bother with taking names. Stupid officer came in, thinking he knew his shit. Got the whole damned bunch of us shot to shit. They got a little upset when I tied him to the base flagpole and skinned him alive after I got out of the hospital. They got even more upset when I broke out of the stockade, killed six MPs and crossed the border with a truckload of munitions. 'Desertion', they called it. Fraggin' idiots."

Micula · « **Reply #21 on:** »

Wirejam listened quietly to the tirade, having heard the tale before. Experienced soldiers thrust into corp politics and laid on the altar of money.

"I hear ya!" She said softly, staring out at the neon lit, rain soaked street. "I don't have a crew either, trust can get you dead faster than a borg snipe!" She could feel the presence of the crystal within the hidden pocket and briefly wished she wasn't the only one responsible for getting it to her Johnson.

Kahlia moved through the doors and slid onto the back of the bike like an oil slick over water. Her clothing had altered, no longer the corp suit and manner, her hair was packed beneath the solid black of the helmet and the expensive armour was filled in all the right places. She had an idea, she had a direction now all she needed to do was track. She fired the kickstart and pressed the throttle, roaring into the dark streets like a raging demon. She would have the information back by sunup.

Maxx · « **Reply #22 on:** »

"Not if you find the right crew, sister," Bishop said, pulling another cigar from a small humidor that sat between the from seats. "The right crew makes all the difference."

Another bike slid into place behind Kahlia. She knew who it was without even looking. He was the only watchdog they ever sent to keep an eye on her because, despite his race's reputation for senseless violence, he was the exception. He might even be called cultured, even refined. He could be relied up for a surprisingly delicate touch, unless action was called for. In those rare cases where Kahlia needed help, he was more than willing to provide it, with a very big gun or a surprisingly agile mind.

He was called the Queen's Champion and he tried to live his life in a manner that lived up to that name. He would die protecting her and the corporate interests she represented, a rare trait for an ork.

Micula · « **Reply #23 on:** »

"It's just finding the right crew." Wirejam answered as she breathed the scent of cigar smoke, luxuriating briefly in the taste. A chime sounded in her ear and she tilted her head to one side, answering the internal call.

Wirejam.... news hot from the presses, you've picked up a hunter. Looks like you screwed it big style this time. Tap caught a late message hitting the stream at approximately 0100. They've scrambled a top class HK.. I hope you've got your running shoes on.

The voice stopped and the receiver fell silent. Hiding the nervous chuckle that threatened to overwhelm her, Alyss leant over and asked. "Can this rig go any faster?"

The sleek, black bike flowed through traffic like a live thing, its rider connected to it's chassis by more than limbs. Evidence at the plant had placed the assailant as leaving on foot and probably into the barrens. She weaved from the main expressway and entered the urban jungle, not indicating to the bike behind as she didn't need to. Her follower knew his route.

She eased the bike into cruise as she played the scene from the lab through her head. Assailant female, by look of the figure and size, exceptionally gifted by dint of her entry and exit. The lab boys didn't even realise they had an intruder until security informed them. Whoever had busted them open, was good. Even cleaned up, the camera image was distorted and fuzzy making the figure indistinct and unrecognisable. The code to the lab had been cracked manually and there was no matrix trace.

hmm a very good little girl she mused to herself as she watched the operation again.

"We have a potential!" Her headset flared into life as she eased back into riding. "Bunch of gangers vapourised in sector 15! Might be our gal or her buddies. Head that way!"

"On it!" She replied and pulled a sharp ninety degree turn to head down the right route and hopefully her prey.

Maxx · « **Reply #24 on:** »

"You suddenly need a bathroom?" Bishop asked. "Relax. If people are looking for you, if they don't have a reason to stop me, they won't. If they do, they will be in a world of hurt." The beat up truck moved along at a steady pace. It's speed would draw no undue attention but that didn't stop Bishop from pulling his pistol and laying it on the seat beside him.

The circle of ash where the white phosphorous grenade had gone off contained little besides the remains of four poor souls who had been given the chance to witness Hell first hand. There were two survivors, one who was too far gone even consider trying to interrogate and one who still had much of his own skin still intact. One arm and part of one leg had third degree burns but he was likely going to live.