Untitled Shadowrun Story (Closed)

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Untitled Shadowrun Story (Closed)

Postby PoisonedDragon » Thu Mar 13, 2008 9:31 pm

Scypher took a deep swallow of his beer, lit a cigarette, took a long drag, then jacked in.

Diamonds on black velvet, glittering like stars in a night sky, each point connected to a multitude of others by glistening silver lines. The Matrix. The Global Telecommunications Grid. Each point represents a network, each network connected to others, sharing information, allowing people to access the things they need from anywhere in the world. Scypher floated gently above the stars, looking down. Connected, but not. He found it soothing, to sit there, looking down on the Matrix, connected to it at only the most basic of levels. He couldn't stay there long though, he was already late, and Karnage was not someone to keep waiting.

Scypher turned inward and fully connected, rushing fast to the access point, a Seattle Data Haven that gave Deckers like Scypher a safe place to access the Matrix. Quickly locating the exit node, Scypher left the Haven and connected quickly to the wider Seattle Grid. The grid was laid out much like the streets of the city, but cleaner. Karnage had chosen a secure server for the meeting, and it took Scypher a while to find it, so well was it hidden. The encryption would have taken a lesser hacker minutes to crack, but Scypher sliced through it in seconds and entered the server to find that Karnage was also late.

The server was a VR environment designed to look like a small boardroom, a couple of comfortable chairs grouped around a highly polished meeting table, the kind of environment Corps used for international meetings. Not Karnage's style at all. Scypher was immediately wary, and quickly referenced the message he had received, pulling it up so that it appeared in his field of vision. He replayed it several times and felt better. The message was clearly from Karnage, as evidenced by the other Decker's unique Avatar, and the fact that he used several references that only the two of them would know to prove his identity. Scypher sat in one of the chairs to wait.


Somewhere in the real world, Scypher's hand, only distantly connected to his mind, raised to his lips and he took a second drag off his smoke.

It wasn't long before Scypher's scanning software detected another Decker and alerted Scypher to their presence. Scypher queued his guard program and braced himself for an attacked. He didn't relax until Karnage's Avatar materialized in the simulated boardroom. Like Scypher's own Avatar, Karnage's was clear and distinct, almost indistinguishable from reality, a sign that both were using top of the line software and hardware. Scypher had never met Karnage in person, and so had no idea if the sleek Avatar he always used was an accurate representation, or if, like Scypher, Karnage used a manufactured persona to protect himself. Likely the latter.

The two looked at each other a long while, silently exchanging information to verify their identities, while simultaneously placing their strongest encryptions on the server to ensure their meeting would remain private. Once done, each smiled broadly and shook hands before sitting across from one another at the table.

Scypher, good to see you, so to speak. Its been way too long, staying out of trouble I hope?

Scypher nodded. As much as one can in this line of work.

Karnage laughed, leaning back in his chair. Good to hear. Listen up and listen well, cause I don't have alot of time.

Scypher gave Karnage his complete attention. I just finished this job, big deal, lots of heat, lots of cash, probably safest for everyone if I don't go into the details. Sufficed to say, I gotta disappear for a while.

Scypher inclined his head slightly. It happens sometimes, even to the best of us.

Right, well, the guy I was working for, he's likely to need another Decker, and soon. He did right by me, I came away with enough to retire if that's what I gotta do, so I figured I owe him. That means I can't leave him hanging to pick up some drek decker who's just gonna get caught or iced.

Scypher knew where this was leading. Very considerate of you.

So... I gave him your number.

I don't run shadows.

Bah! Don't give me that drek Scypher! We all do what we gotta do! You've run before, and you know as well as I do that you'll do it again. Why not now? Why not when there's some real cred to be had? When there's some serious work to do? This could be the challenge I know you've been looking for. Besides...

Scypher could feel it coming before Karnage even finished. ...you owe me.

It was all that needed to be said, and they both knew it. Fine, I'll do it.

Karnage nodded, then stood to leave. Both dropped their encryptions and moved toward the exit node. Karnage turned and looked at Scypher one last time. By the way. The Johnson. He knows me as Priest, and he's the only one who does, so that's how you'll know its him. Then he was gone.

Scypher exited the server just as Karnage's final script activated, trashing the node and erasing any sign of the server's existence, further assurance that no one would know about the meeting. Scypher could only wonder about all the precautions, but took the hint and quickly made his way back to his access node...


...and jacked out. He sat in the Haven, the dim light blurring his vision as he fought the disorientation of returning to reality. Looking down at the cigarette in his hand he estimated he had been jacked in for less than two minutes, even though it had seemed more like thirty. Even his beer was still cold. He finished his smoke and drank down his beer as the disorientation faded, then carefully packed up his various wires and data chips, carefully replacing the synth-flesh and metal panel that covered the deck built into his left cyberarm. His right arm was real, with only the minor modification of having a smartlink for his Fichetti pistol, but the left was well crafted, and looked almost real when the cover panel was in place. He rolled down his sleeve and stood to go, pulling on his leather trenchcoat.

The trip home was short and uneventful, Scypher's bike raced through the streets and within minutes was parked in the secured garage of the downtown highrise. Through manipulation of files in the Matrix, Scypher had several false identities that allowed him to live an undisturbed life. The apartment he had been using for the past several months was leased in the name Blake Silver, who beyond the legal documentation of his existence, didn't exist. The rent was always paid on time however, and no one had ever bothered to do enough checking on Blake Silver to discover the truth.

The apartment was large enough to suit Scypher's needs, with all the modern amenities, and a legal Matrix connection which Scypher would never actually use to connect to the Matrix. By the time Scypher walked through his front door, the vidphone was ringing.
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Re: Untitled Shadowrun Story (Closed)

Postby Thenician » Fri Mar 14, 2008 1:06 am

The vidphone flashed on to show a young woman with fair skin, light eyes, and auburn hair. The room was pitch black, except for the light of the vidphone.

"Eric?" The voice came through the speaker. "Is that you? I can't see you, I think there's something wrong with the connection."

"I'm here, Sarah." Eric replied from the darkness. "The connection's fine. I just have the lights off."

"Okay, that's not weird." She said sarcastically. "What gives?"

He thought for a moment, but after a few seconds he couldn't come up with a good enough excuse. He decided he would lie to her enough tonight, might as well use a little truth.

"Well, I had surgery earlier this week. Had some cyberware installed in my eyes, bright lights are still a bit uncomfortable."

"Ugh. Why would you do that? I don't want some half robot freak for a big brother."

"Half robot freak?" He chuckled slightly. "It's not quite that simple, besides I need it for work."

"Oh, how's that going by the way? Any problems with the merger with Ares?"

"No, everything's fine with that. But listen, that's not why I called." He paused for a second, running the line he rehearsed over in his mind again. "You might not have heard down there yet, but the past few days there's been a string of residential bombings in the area. So I want you to stay there with mom a while longer."

"Oh yeah, I did hear something about that. I saw it an the news just a little while ago."

"Yeah, they're saying it looks like the bomber is targetting only certain individuals, but just in case I'd rather you stay away from Seattle for a while. I'll call you in a few days if something changes."

"Fine, but remember to watch your own back too, okay?"

"I will." He said as he wandered to the window and peeked out. "But I have a long day at work tomorrow, so I have to get some rest."

"Alright, good night Eric."

"Good night Sarah."

The vidphone disconnected automatically when Sarah hung up at the other end, and then the vidphone company logo splashed on the screen before shutting off. Again the room was in total darkness. Still peeking out the window, Eric saw a black van pull up and park across the street from his house. He activated the thermographic vision implant he had installed and he could clearly see the glow of seven people inside the van. They were just sitting there though, a few made some hand gestures, but nothing he could understand.

So, they found me again so soon. He thought. I was hoping to be able to stick around here until tomorrow. Oh well. He continued watching the van for another minute, but they didn't move. There must be more coming.

The house was in no way designed to withstand a direct assault from any attacker that insisted on getting in. And Eric knew that if he could see them, they more than likely could see him.

He made his way casually to his garage and got into his armored BMW 9018. Unlike the house, the car was equipped with all kinds of high end security and performance upgrades. After starting the car, he activated his thermographic sight again, and saw another group of seven figures getting off from a van that parked behind the other one. At the same time, the first group stepped out of their van.

Time to go.

They didn't waste any time moving in on the house. A few moved around to the side, but most stayed against the wall while one set a charge on the garage door. After a few seconds, the one moved away and Eric knew to brace himself.

As soon as the charge detonated, Eric floored the gas and drove through the already gaping hole in the door, using the car's armored body to expand it just enough to fit through. At the same time, a few of the men were already moving in on the breach and were hit by the car. Those that werent struck immediately opened fire, but their rounds just bounced off.

Looking at the rear view display in the hud as he drove off, Eric reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a simple looking pen with a click top. He clicked it four times, and kept it pressed the last time. A few seconds later, a massive fireball erupted and swallowed the house whole, along with everything within twenty yards of the house.

"What a waste..." He saighed out loud, thowing the pen shaped detonator into his glove box.

As he drove away, he considered his next move. After the stunt he and Priest pulled on Ares, there was no way they'd leave him alone. Priest was lucky, Ares never suspected Eric had an accomplice. So that left Eric with all the heat. He was perfectly content to leave the megacorp alone, but he knew that they would follow him to his grave, so he had to make a move against them before they got too serious. Then he remembered the contact Priest gave him before they parted ways. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumbled scrap of paper with a name a phone number on it.

Ben Harmon, huh?

He activated the autopilot in the car and used the vidphone in the windshield HUD to call him. As it rang, he quickly shut off the video transmitter, sending audio only. It rang for a while, but finally there was an answer. Not surprisingly, Eric's vid display also showed text reading 'Voice Only'.

"Mr. Harmon?" He said. "My name is Tyler Morris. Our friend, Priest, tells me that you're good man to know. If you're not too busy right now, I'd like to meet you. I'll be in the Maelstrom Lounge downtown in thirty minutes. Meet me outside and we'll have a drink."

Eric waited a moment for an answer, but he knew he would get none. After hanging up, he programmed the autopilot to drive to the club while he checked his gear. He loaded a full clip into his Steyr TMP machinepistol and placed it in its holster behind his back. Even though the club checks weapons when going in, he couldn't be sure of anything would happen while waiting outside. Once done, he lit a cigarette and waited to be driven to his destination.

EDIT
Holy crap, that color is kinda annoying. I dont feel like changing it, but I'll use a different one from now on.
"I love stealin', I love takin' things."
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Re: Untitled Shadowrun Story (Closed)

Postby PoisonedDragon » Fri Mar 14, 2008 8:13 pm

Scypher closed the apartment door behind him, pausing just a moment to turn on the lights before moving across the room to his desk. The vidphone on his desk was still ringing, but Scypher did not answer it right away. Instead he took a few moments to flip a few switches on the vidphone's highly modified control panel. Security features kicked in, ensuring that the call would remain private, a necessary precaution in Scypher's line of work. As an added precaution, since he could not be sure who it was, Scypher deactivated his video transmitter. That done, Scypher answered the call, smiling a little when the screen flashed on, displaying a message of "Voice Only".

The voice that came out of the vidphone's speaker was cultured and educated, the kind of voice that Scypher associated with Corp Execs. "Mr. Harmon?" The voice asked, and Scypher had to keep from laughing at hearing the name. It was one Scypher hadn't used in years, and was one that very few people still knew. Thinking quickly, Scypher realized that Karnage was probably one of those few, and so it didn't take a genius to realize that this must be the Johnson that Karnage had referred to.

"My name is Tyler Morris. Our friend, Priest, tells me that you're good man to know. If you're not too busy right now, I'd like to meet you. I'll be in the Maelstrom Lounge downtown in thirty minutes. Meet me outside and we'll have a drink." Scypher was about to answer, but thought better of it, knowing that there was nothing that needed to be said. After a few seconds the call was disconnected.

Scypher knew the Maelstrom, a little club not far from his apartment downtown. On the surface it was just another club, a place for middle class workers to get a drink after a hard day. Like so many similar places however, the Maelstrom Lounge was actually a haven for those who ran shadows, a place where meetings could be safely held between the Johnsons and the "deniable assets" they were so fond of using for their dirty work.

Referencing the time display within his field of vision, one of the many cyber-modifications Scypher had, he decided he would walk to the bar instead of driving, it wasn't that far and he could be there in twenty minutes. He quickly checked his gear, the Fichetti pistol holstered under his arm, and the various technical paraphenalia in the interior pockets of his coat. Once he was sure that he wasn't forgetting anything, Scypher switched off the lights and left his apartment.

Nineteen minutes later, according to his time display, Scypher was walking up to the Maelstrom. The outside of the club was deserted, with the exception of the troll bouncer watching the door. The Johnson had said to meet outside, so Scypher lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall of the building to wait.

He was just finishing his smoke when a car pulled up, a beautiful BMW, and parked in the alley across the street from the club. The man who got out had a slim build, with spiky bleached blonde hair and a light tan. He was dressed nicely, wearing a leather jacket, white button up shirt and black slacks. The collar of his shirt was unbuttoned, and Scypher's keen cybereyes could clearly see the top of the man's body armor. Scypher could easily tell that this was the man he was waiting for. Crushing his smoke under his boot, Scypher pushed away from the wall as the man approached.

"Mr. Harmon?" Scypher nodded and motioned for the door to the club, indicating that he didn't want to speak out in the open. They moved toward the door, and were stopped by the bouncer who asked them to turn in their weapons. Scypher handed over his Fichetti and took the token the bouncer gave him so he could reclaim it as he left, then entered the club's dim interior. He moved quickly to a table in a corner and ordered a beer before lighting up a smoke.
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Re: Untitled Shadowrun Story (Closed)

Postby Thenician » Sun Mar 16, 2008 3:48 pm

Eric took a seat across the table and examined the dark interior of the lounge. The tables were far apart and the music was loud. After making sure that everyone within earshot was minding their own business, he leaned forward.

"I'll get straight to the point." Eric began, "A colleague of mine has a few things he's been meaning to give me. But, things being as they are these days, it's hard to find the time where both of us can get together."

He paused to pull out a cigarette and light it. While taking the first drag he looked directly into the man's eyes to see if he understood what he was saying. Even in the darkness of the club it wasn't hard to notice that his eyes were jet black, most likely cyber implants. Unlike Eric's eyes which were cosmetically crafted to look lifelike.

"Anyway, he told me that he left it for me at his workplace and I can go pick it up whenever I want. Unfortunately, I'm a very busy man. So I was hoping you'd be able to go pick it up for me." Eric stopped as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a datachip. Sliding it across the table, he continued. "Here's the address. My colleague said that the data I need is in a computer in the fourteenth floor. He also said that he doesn't need a copy, so just go ahead and delete it when you're done."

"When you finish, head down to the truck loading area in the basement. There's a truck there with a piece of machinery loaded on it that also belongs to me. You should be able to recognize it from the earlier data." Eric took a long pull of his cigarette and looked around again to make sure there wasn't anyone evesdropping. Satisfied that they were being ignored, he continued. "Now there might be some heavy lifting involved, so I got a couple of people to help out, if you're interested I'll call them and tell them to expect you. They should be getting ready to go soon."
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Re: Untitled Shadowrun Story (Closed)

Postby PoisonedDragon » Sun Mar 16, 2008 5:32 pm

Scypher sat and listened, smoking his cigarette in silence as the man across from him explained the job. From the first word Scypher was suspicious. There was no way that Karnage would have contacted him for a simple courier job. Which meant that the data was probably much more important than the Johnson was making it out to be. It was also more than likely that there would be more than one heavily armed person interested in stopping Scypher from acquiring it once he got into the building. That brought up another thought, and Scypher wondered how much security the software itself would have protecting it.

The mention of a truck, with a very vague description of "machinery" in it, set off more alarms in Scypher's head. No way this sort of pickup would be done at night, or without the presence of Corp security. Definitely a heist then. But of what? The mention of "heavy lifting" had Scypher thinking again of armed security guards and possibly worse. The whole thing stank of a setup, and Scypher was very close to pushing out his chair and walking out of the club without another word. Then he thought back to Karnage, to how much he owed the older Decker, and he realized that Karnage wouldn't set him up like this.

What then? Why all the deception regarding "colleagues" and "heavy lifting"? Scypher thought hard about that and could come up with only one answer. A test. There was clearly more to the deal than just this one file and piece of machinery. Much more. Else why would Karnage have contacted Scypher about it and not done it himself? Then he remembered Karnage's words. This could be the challenge I know you've been looking for.

The job was a test. Had to be. If Scypher succeeded, the Johnson would have something he clearly wanted, and he would also know that Scypher was good enough and trustworthy enough to continue working for him. If Scypher failed, well, the Johnson would be no worse of that he was before. His mind made up, Scypher stubbed out his smoke and fingered the datachip the Johnson had laid on the table. There were no markings on it to indicate what it might contain, but if even part of the Johnson's story was to be trusted, it contained the information he needed to locate the building, the correct terminal on the fourteenth floor, and the truck in the loading area. Scypher also had to assume it would contain some hint as to what files he would be looking for once he got into the terminal.

Scypher looked up after a few moments to realize that he had been quiet far too long, and the Johnson was looking across the table at him, expecting some kind of answer. "Fine, I'll do it." Scypher decided to play along with the man's story, but put just enough emphasis on the right words to make it clear he didn't believe a single word. "A courier job like this'll cost you twenty grand up front, with another twenty on delivery." The price was ridiculous for a courier job, for that kind of money the man could have hired an entire squad of Lone Star or Knight Errant to make the delivery. For a datasteal run, however, the price was just right.

"Deal. All the information you need is on that chip, including instructions for contacting me to make the delivery. Here's your advance, twenty thousand." He pulled two credsticks out of his jacket pocket and laid them on the table. Each had an LED display reading 10,000Â¥. Scypher picked them up and slipped them into and inside pocket of his coat, nodding his thanks.

"As for help with the heavy lifting, it would be very much appreciated. Have them meet me at the address in two hours, that will give me enough time to prepare." Scypher downed the rest of his beer and left the club, stopping briefly at the entrace to collect his Fichetti. He took a wandering route back to his apartment, ensuring that he wasn't followed. The trip back took him just under half an hour, leaving him with a little more than an hour and a half to make sure he had all the details. Sitting down in a comfortably worn chair, Scypher lit a smoke and pulled out the datachip, turning it over in his fingers as he had done at the bar.

Reaching into an inner pocket of his jacket, Scypher pulled out a small device about the size of a cell phone. Switching it on, Scypher stuck the chip into the side of the device and smoked in silence as the chip was scanned. The device couldn't actually read what was on the chip, Scypher always found it easier to examine data once it was loaded into his headware computer. The device merely scanned the contents of the chip to make sure there were no viruses or other nasty surprises waiting for anyone who tried to do just that. The device beeped three times, a message of "Clear" printed on its screen. Scypher removed the chip and switched it off before replacing it back in his pocket.

Taking another drag off his smoke, Scypher slotted the chip into a small port located just behind his right ear. The download took only seconds, and once downloaded to his headware it only took another few seconds for Scypher to examine all of the information. The target was a research facility on the outskirts of Seattle's Redmond Barrens, though the data did not contain any information on the facility's corporate affilitation. The data did, however, include a rough 3D model of the building, with particular attention paid to the fourteenth floor, where the terminal Scypher needed was supposedly located. The model did not include the terminal's exact location, but it did have the terminal's ID#, DGX-0876-49. The only information about the file itself was a keyword, "Project Gargoyle". The contact information for the Johnson was a phone number that Scypher quickly transferred to his address book.

Disengaging his headware computer, Scypher finished his cigarette and spent the next few minutes gathering anything he might need. He made sure he had extra clips for his Fichetti, as well as any electronic devices he might need for bypassing the building's security. He did a quick check of the software currently loaded into his cyberdeck, making sure that all the programs and scripts he might need were ready to be accessed quickly. Scypher thought long and hard, it had been a couple years since he had done a real run, and he just couldn't be sure he wasn't forgetting something. Shrugging it off Scypher left his apartment and made his way to the garage, mounted his bike and sped off to the meeting point.
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Re: Untitled Shadowrun Story (Closed)

Postby Thenician » Sun Mar 16, 2008 10:10 pm

Eric watched the decker as he walked away from the table and left the club. After finishing his cigarette, he got up and walked out too, stopping at the exit to recover his weapon. Once outside, Eric walked to his car and stood outside it. He looked it over, noticing all the dents and scratches caused by driving through a garage door and being shot at. Sighing loudly, he opened the door and sat inside.

After hesitating for a few minutes, Eric finally closed the door and started the car. Instead of pulling out of the alley by the Maelstrom Lounge though, he drove further in, parking the car behind the club and trying to line it up right against the wall. Once the car was in position, he reached under the steering column below his knees and felt around until he found a series of nine small buttons. He pushed a sequence of sixteen buttons until a slight beep came from the steering column. A moment later the steering wheel rose up, a keyboard slid out from under the dashboard, and the windshield HUD lit up. A window appeared on the display with a prompt asking for a password.

Eric typed in the password '834LLK-c/xq-GILGAM3SH', all the while thinking about how obsolete that method of data input was. After the password cleared, another window appeared with a prompt asking for a command.

'COMMAND AUTODESTRUCT -minutes=120 -countdown=off'

After confirming the command twice, the keyboard automatically slid back under the dashboard and the steering wheel dropped into place. A message window saying 'GOODBYE' flashed on the HUD before it shut off. Quickly, Eric got out of the car, pushing the button to unlatch the trunk before shutting the door behind him. From the trunk, he pulled out a heavy briefcase, then slammed the trunk shut.

Casually, Eric walked away from the alley next to the Maelstrom and crossed the street to a public vidphone at the corner. He stood in front of the terminal, as if he was about to use it, but pulled a cell phone from his pocket instead. He typed in the numbers for the 'heavy lifting' help, then typed a message.

Expect a third pair of hands. Move in 2 hours.
-Guardian Angel


After sending the message, Eric stuffed the phone back in his pocket, pulled out a credstick, and slid it into the slot of the vidphone terminal. As soon as it activated, he called for a taxi.
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Re: Untitled Shadowrun Story (Closed)

Postby PoisonedDragon » Mon Mar 17, 2008 1:53 pm

The funny thing was, Kiera was not that unhappy with the way her life had turned out. It was simply a comparison between the way things were, and the way they had been, that made it seem horribly depressing. Her early years had seemed so promising. Born to wealthy Human parents, Kiera had wanted for nothing as a child, and unlike most in similar situations, Kiera's parents had been thrilled that their daughter had been born an Elf. From a very young age it was clear that Kiera was Awakened, a term used to describe those few children born with magical talent, and her parents nurtured her gift. They hired tutors to teach her the basics before she was even in grade school, and by the time she was fifteen she had a mastery of magic that most mages never achieved in their whole lives.

Things only improved as she was accepted to MITT three years earlier than their normal eligibilty requirements dictated, and she attended the school full of hopes for the future. She was top of all her classes, excelling in all aspects of magic, but particularily interested in Alchemy and Enchanting. She was heavily praised by all her professors, and even won several national awards for her work in Spellcrafting and Enchanting. She was just a few short months from graduating with a full degree and honors when it all fell apart.

One of her professors, an old mage who was jealous of Kiera's ability, and filled with lust over her stunning beauty, tried to get her to go home with him. He implied that it would be good for her future career if she did, but clearly all he wanted was sex. She turned him down, and then everything started to go wrong. The professor she had refused was one of the most well-connected men in the magical community, and within a week of her refusal to sleep with him she was expelled from school, stripped of all her assets, and even declared SINless. In one fell swoop she had gone from magical protige to non-existent. She just barely managed to escape before being arrested for... something. She fled the UCAS and hid out wherever she could for as long as she could, finally settling down in Seattle's Redmond Barrens.

Her greatest pleasure came from the fact that nothing in her past had stripped her of the ability to use magic, and she had escaped before the UCAS government had been able to "tag" her, which made her a Free Spellcaster. She settled down in a run-down tenement with a number of other squatters, including a Troll named Rugburn who had become her best friend. With his help she had been able to gather the materials she needed to continue her craft, and between the two of them they had made the tenement one of the safest places in the Barrens, a safe haven for those with no other place to go. It had been Rugburn who had acquired the necessary ingredients and equipment to allow Kiera to manufacture the material Orialchum, with which she crafted several small charms which she then imbued with magical energies.

She had also used the material to craft herself a sword. Her father had been nuts about old weapons, particularily swords, and had insisted that Kiera learn how to use one to defend herself. He had spent long hours teaching her various styles, attacks and defenses, and those times spent with her father were among the happiest memories of her childhood. One sword clearly stood out in her memory, one her father had called a scimitar, was her favorite, and that was what she had designed. Being lighter and stronger than any other metal, Orialchum made fantastic weapons, and Kiera's scimitar was as sharp as a razor. She had set about learning all she could about fighting with it, even to the point where she paid a Decker to hack anything he could find on the subject and then convert it into a format she could read without cyberware.

Her training was long and hard, and Kiera hadn't even realized it had a focus until two years ago, when Rugburn had asked for her help. She knew that Rugburn was a Shadowrunner, and she jumped at the chance to pay him back for all that he had done for her. The run was easy, over before she knew it, but while she was doing it Kiera felt exhilerated. She loved it. The danger, the thrill of doing something so obviously illegal, made her feel more alive than she ever had in the past. Kiera had become a Shadowrunner. Despite all that had happened in her past, Kiera really wasn't that unhappy with the way it had all turned out.

A bump in the road snapped Kiera out of her reverie and she found herself, once again, in the passenger seat of Rugburn's... vehicle. There really was no other way to describe the monstrosity. It was huge, made of solid steel, and seemed to have been designed to transport military personnel. Still, Kiera had to admit, few other vehicles would have supported a Troll would was well over seven and a half feet tall. It wasn't particularily comfortable or stylish, but Kiera was just grateful that she didn't have to walk everywhere. Rugburn had found them another job, "A BIG ONE", he'd said, but then, that was the way Rugburn described every job. Kiera quickly checked her gear one more time, then looked ahead to see if they were anywhere near their destination.

"So, tell me again Ruggy, what kind of job is it?" Kiera grinned a little at the scowl on Rugburn's face, he hated it when she called him Ruggy. The two were good friends though, and he knew she was only teasing, especially since, at barely over half his size, Kiera wouldn't stand a chance if he decided to hit her.
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Re: Untitled Shadowrun Story (Closed)

Postby Thenician » Mon Mar 17, 2008 3:46 pm

The sound of rattling metal filled the vehicle's cabin. Loose tools and equipment banged against the interior armor plating. Even Rugburn's weapons were only hanging from one or two hooks along the sides of the cabin. Each time the armored vehicle turned or hit a bump in the road everything would clatter all at once and make a terrible noise. Even the vehicle's own body would whine with the strain of the slightest bumps. Though it had been customized, maintained, and restored quite well, nothing could change the fact that it was well over half a century old.

After diesel fuel became obsolete, it sat in a scrap yard near the Redmond Barrens just rusting away for over thirty years until Rugburn found it and decided to make a project out of it. Regardless of how much time and effort was put into the machine though, there's only su much that can be done without divine intervention. In the end, it requires daily maintenance to keep it running, and even so it's still a loud ugly metal monster.

"Well... the Johnson..." Rugburn said between clanks, "is this skinny chump... I met the other day."

He stopped talking as he turned into an alley behind a dingy looking pub and killed the engine. It was hard to tell while riding inside the beast just how loud it was until it suddenly went quiet.

"He says he needs a truck moved from this fancy buildin' out on the skirts of the Barrens, all the way down to the docks. Supposed to be a ship waitin' on pier twentyfour." Rugburn looked at the clock on the dashboard, it read 1:20 am. "So anyway, that job by itself woulda been easy. Problem is, that message we go an hour ago 'bout the third pair of hands. Supposed to mean that before takin' the truck, now we gotta play bodyguard for some chump decker too. So we gotta keep the heat off him for a while, and then still get out with the truck. That's gonna be a shitload harder with all that attention on us."

"Anyway, we're here." He said as he got up off the driver's seat and crouched in the back of the cabin. "We gotta wait an hour before this chump gets here, let's go get a drink."

Rugburn pounded a large panel with his fist that caused the rear hatch and ramp of the armored personnel carrier to open. He grabbed a long heavy coat that was laying on the floor near the hatch and put it on. It looked like something that had been dragged through hell and back. It was torn in many places, exposing the armor plates that lined it. Reaching into one of the many steel boxes that lined the inside of the cabin like shelves, he pulled out a big handful of shotgun shells and stuffed them in his coat pocket. Finally he grabbed a sawn off shotgun that hung from a hook near the ammo box and examined it.

"I'll come get the rest when it's time to go." He said as he stuffed the weapon into his other coat pocket.
"I love stealin', I love takin' things."
-Bender B. Rodriguez

"How 'bout I alter your face?"
-Thenician Dusk
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Re: Untitled Shadowrun Story (Closed)

Postby PoisonedDragon » Mon Mar 17, 2008 8:08 pm

Kiera couldn't help but feel a small twinge of disgust as Rugburn mentioned a Decker. Something about cyberware set her teeth on edge, and the headware that Decker's used was the worst. Rugburn parked his vehicle behind a small pub and grabbed some of his gear before descending out the rear hatch. Kiera followed, pausing as she got out to smooth out the wrinkles in her tight leather pants and check her hair. As Rugburn was closing the hatch of the carrier, Kiera was moving toward the door of the pub, quickly scanning up and down the street, but not seeing anyone.

The two entered the pub and sat together at an out of the way table, ordering drinks and settling down to wait. Even in such a run down place Kiera drew more than a few looks initially, but once they noticed the Troll sitting with her most looked away too quickly to be considered polite. Kiera mostly just sat quietly, sipping her drink while Rugburn complained almost non-stop about how he wasn't a babysitter and didn't want to be stuck watching over some "chump decker". Kiera didn't mind really, if Rugburn was right about how much this job would pay, Kiera would be able to afford to start assembling a Hermetic Library to help her research. With that on her mind and a smile on her lips, Kiera settled down to wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took Scypher nearly a full hour to find the pub he was looking for, mostly owing to the fact that he was not that familiar with the Redmond Barrens. He finally located it, a dingy little spot where people went when they needed to not be noticed. The instructions he had received were not very clear on who he was supposed to be looking for, except that they would answer to the name "Rugburn". Parking his bike in an alley across the street, Scypher approached the bar and entered. There weren't that many people in the bar, but any one of them could be the one he was looking for, and Scypher didn't particularily want to go up to each and ask if they were called Rugburn.

As it was, he didn't have to, the answer found him. Rather, he overheard something that put him on the right track. His enhanced cyberears allowed his to sort through the multitude of individual sounds, isolate one specific sound and then magnify it, all so quickly that he barely even noticed he was doing it. So when a classy female voice said, "Ruggy, would you calm down a little? he's not even late yet", Scypher quickly picked out the speaker, and had to fight to keep his eyes inside his head. The Elf woman who spoke was easily the most beautiful person Scypher had ever seen. Short and trim, she had a body that was almost too perfect for words, and her face was beautiful in a way that Scypher had never imagined was possible. Coupled with long, shimmering silver hair and startling violet eyes, Scypher was sure he would never see anyone quite like her again.

Scypher's attention slowly shifted to the Elf's companion, the one she had called "Ruggy", which Scypher was hoping was short for Rugburn. There sat the largest Troll that Scypher had ever seen, even sitting he was taller than Scypher, and he seemed to be made of solid muscle. It wasn't a stretch to bet that Scypher had found the "heavy lifter" the Johnson had referred to. Swallowing hard, Scypher made his way across the room slowly before sitting down across from the other two, who both fell silent and stared at him. Keeping his voice steady, Scypher recited the words that so many Shadowrunners knew and lived by when meeting with others of their kind they had never worked with before.

"Mr. Johnson sent me. For the delivery."

Across from him, Elf and Troll both visibly relaxed and nodded, then introduced themselves. Kiera and Rugburn. Scypher introduced himself as well, using his common handle with the other Shadowrunners in a way he never would have done with any others. The three discussed the job quickly, in hushed tones, Scypher filling them in on his part of the job, a supposedly simple hack to recover a valuable datafile. The building was close. In fact, the pub they were in had been selected specifically because it was so close, which meant they could leave their vehicles here and walk the rest of the way, then come back once they had made delivery of the truck. Scypher also received new information, as Rugburn stated that the truck was to be taken to Pier 24 at the docks when the job was done, where supposedly a ship was waiting for it.

Before they knew it, it was time to go. The three stood up and left the bar, then paused outside so that Rugburn could duck into the alley, saying that he needed to get some more of his gear. He came back after a few moments with some odd bulges in his pockets, and an Ares Antioch badly hidden under his coat. The three then set off on a path that would take them to the target, they moved quickly through the streets, arriving at their destination in just under ten minutes. The building was fairly secure, locked down for the night, but there was no fence, and didn't seem to be any guards outside. Scypher knew that didn't really mean much, but it was something.

They were approaching the glass front doors when Rugburn stopped Scypher by grabbing his shoulder, then the Troll nodded to Kiera. The woman stepped forward, her hands weaving intricately and her eyes rolling back in their sockets. She stood there, concentrating, a light wind seeming to swirl around her form, though the air was still. "No Astral Barriers, that's a good sign. Two Mages inside, but they are not yet aware of our presence." Her voice sounded hollow as she spoke, as if it came from far away. She turned back to the other two then and nodded.

Rugburn went first making his way up to the doors and pulling on them, only to find them locked. He took a few long steps back and leveled his grenade launcher at the doors. "Both of you stand back." He seemed to brace himself, but before he could fire Scypher moved to his side and stopped him. "Stop, there's a better way."

Scypher moved to the side of the doors and examined the Maglock. It was a fairly simple one, no intricate fingerprint or retinal scanner, just a cardlock and accompanying keypad. Reaching into an interior pocket of his jacket Scypher pulled out a sophisticated tool kit. Within seconds he had removed the lock's cover panel, revealing the circuitry within. The bypass was incredibly simple, so much so that Scypher was a little suspicious, and in less than a minute, a soft hiss and a short click told them that the door was unlocked. Scypher replaced the cover panel and put away his tools, then returned to the others, to find that Rugburn was already through the doors, with Kiera right behind him.

Rugburn had shouldered the Antioch and pulled a sawn-off shotgun out of a coat pocket, and was moving through the lobby cautiously, watching for any signs of armed guards. They were in a large foyer with only one exit other than the one they had just come through. A pair of doors directly ahead which presumably led to the lobby. Rugburn, in a move that was far more cautious than Scypher had ever seen a Troll make, inched up to the door, opened in a crack and looked through. He turned back to the other two, and made some hand gestures which Scypher was able to roughly interpret as: 1 in the centre, 2 on the left, 3 on the right. He then pointed to Kiera, motioning that she should go left, he motioned that he would go right, and motioned that Scypher should go straight in the middle. Scypher wasn't thrilled with the idea, but Rugburn clearly knew more about fighting, so he decided to trust the Troll's judgement.

Everything happened so fast, Rugburn ripped the doors open, almost fully off their hinges and went straight to the right, and Kiera, moving faster than anyone Scypher had ever seen, dashed left. Following Rugburn's instructions, Scypher went straight into the lobby, the guard in the centre was sitting at a desk, and seemed very slow to react. Scypher leveled his Fichetti just as the guard was standing, and shot once, the bullet taking the guard right in the forehead, and he dropped to the floor dead. Scypher could hear several loud reports from the right side of the room, and knew that Rugburn would be alright, but he turned to the left planning to give aid to Kiera should she need it.

As it turned out, she didn't need it. Before even entering the room Kiera had layered several spells upon herself, an Shield spell to deflect bullets sent her way, and a Speed charm to quicken her movements. She had crossed to the left side of the room before the guard even had a chance to react, and the first was dead within second, cut down by a few skilled slashes of her scimitar. The second actually managed to get his gun out and aim it at her before she turned her attention to him. He managed to get a shot off before she attacked, but the bullet ricocheted of thin air less than a foot from her face and she came on unhindered. Within seconds he too lay dead, and Scypher could not help but marvel at the sight.

Rugburn nodded his approval when he noticed that Scypher's guard was dead, and clapped him hard, too hard, on the back. "Nice work chummer! Guess yer not completely useless after all, huh deck-head?" Scypher scowled up at the Troll, but Rugburn was no longer paying attention to him, and had turned instead to look at Kiera, cleaning her scimitar on a dead guard's uniform before joining them at the guard desk.

"So, where to now?" she asked.

"Fourteen." Scypher replied, motioning to the elevators on the other side of the desk. "The Johnson says there's some files on one of the terminals that he needs."

"Fourteen it is then." Said Rugburn before moving quickly to the elevators and pushing the call button. Strangely, the elevators seemed designed to accomodate a Troll, for not only was the ceiling high enough that he could stand at full height without hitting his head, but was also wide enough that several other people could fit inside without being cramped. Once the three were inside and the doors had closed, Scypher pushed the button marked 14.
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